#then i despise you :))) and i hope you fall over

[bhaalism]

pre vampirism stereotypical rich man astarion drabble with a fem reader in mind. power imbalance, fingering, secret hookups, literally master of the house and you're a servant, he's an asshole but I love him your honor.

"Sex in the drawing room is hardly proper." You seeth as he gives you a faux pout, rocking his hips to make his clothes erection press with aching firmness against the apex of your thighs. It's difficult to focus on the argument when your muscles are flexing like a tautly pulled string at the feeling of him.

"Don't be difficult, darling." The pout twists deeper but it doesn't escape you how his eyes are full of amusement as he lets out a groan, gripping your hips even tighter. Dizziness and wanting nearly knocks your mind off balance.

You wish you could say you despise him. You wish you could say this flippant behavior makes you hate him, but there's no winning against the Magistrate. It's even more insulting that he regularly lets you think you've got him right where you want him, only to find yourself both metaphorically and literally flat on your back in front of him.

It's part of what makes him so alluring, though. That and just how out of your reach he really is, showcased by these hidden trysts that make up the bulk of your relationship. If it could even be called that. It's also where the little seed of resentment inside you comes from, because it's a simple fact you two belong to completely different worlds and someone like you could never dream of belonging in the same room as him without a silver serving tray in your hands.

No matter how many times he lays with you that spot beside him will never belong to you.

Not for nothing you think faintly that someone should tell him no once in a while, it would be good for him. But that person certainly isn't you, not with his fingers prodding at your slick entrance and his other hand at the back of your neck sending wave after wave of goosebumps down your arms.

Not while his lips trace down from your jaw to the popped open and askew collar of your uniform, his teeth brushing against the tender flesh of your chest. Not while his fingers scissor and curl inside you and the heel of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit.

"Astarion-"

"Sir," He's quick to correct you with authority shot through his tone. It makes a sour taste curl over your tongue, sharp and vile. The division would always exist whether you're on his lap or fetching at his beck and call and what a blunder it is to forget yourself even in the midst of all this.

"Sir," you bite back, the word drenched in mockery but he's quick to cut you off with a firmer press of his palm against your clit making you moan obscenely, practically bouncing off the decorations in the drawing room.

All is forgotten as you chase your own high shamelessly in his lap, grinding your hips and nearly panting from how his lithe fingers coax you to the edge of orgasm so quickly. After all this time there's no one who could hope to play the instrument of your body even half as well as he does.

As you clench around his fingers you can feel the smug satisfaction rolling off of him in waves that coat your skin like a sheen of sweat actively forming. The air feels hot and dry, catching in your throat as you whimper shamelessly, too caught up in the way you feel pressure in your abdomen immediately releasing and rushing straight to your head.

As your body takes on a boneless feel the awareness of station and propriety slips out of your mind and you slump against his chest, nuzzling against the side of his neck while you try to get control of your harsh breathing.

If not for the afterglow you find yourself preening in perhaps you'd feel a twinge of sadness at the way his hands fall away from your back too fast, the way he quickly maneuvers you off himself to stand and straighten his clothes. The way he doesn't look at you as he speaks.

"Get yourself cleaned up, quickly. We're expecting guests during today's luncheon."

That earlier sourness returns with a vengeance, flooding your mouth as you feel embarrassment run hot beneath your skin, all too conscious of the way your chest is spilling out of your uniform, the way your hair is mussed in wild chunks, the sweat making your clothes stick to your back.

You don't say a word, biting your tongue as you watch him slip out of the door and presumably back down the hall to his office.

As you rise, fixing the buttons at your chest, you do your best to swallow down the venom you wish you could spit.

#i didn't wanna waste the idea so just posting it as a little like drabble thing idk #there may be more of this later i haven't decided #astarion #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #bg3 x female reader #bg3 smut #bg3 astarion

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Fall little Wendy bird fall - Chapter 1? (Please watch video first if you haven't seen it)

TW: Mentions of child death (I added Wendy's brothers in here just for extra angst)

Peter couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even look away. He wanted to. Needed to. But the shock prevented him from doing so. Tears fell down his cheeks as he saw her lifeless body atop of the rock. The blood flowing from her skull and painting the rock a sickeningly dark red color.  

“Wendy…” he wanted to scream it out but his throat…his body…he didn’t know what to do with himself. What was this feeling? What was it called? He was in so much pain but couldn’t describe it. 

His first and last true love…dead. Died the most horrific and tragic death without even knowing why. Hell, he doesn’t even know why. The other lost boys were being put on land by Tink and the other Faes. confused and scared they were. What the hell just happened?! 

Vidia was still holding him in the magical bubble, and she saw that hurt look in his eyes. The look of grief. The very first stage. She knows that feeling all too well. And she felt bad but…what had to be had to be done. And he’ll get over it soon enough…hopefully. 

All the boys were taken back to the treehouse to rest. They were explained the situation but…with lies and the half-truth.  

Tinkerbell and the others informed them that Wendy was going to take them to a horrible place. A place filled with monsters and people only wishing to harm them. Not only that, but she was going to make them forget the fairies. 

“She was going to hurt you and us. We couldn’t let that happen, we had to protect you.” Tinkerbell touched the cheek of nibs and wiped his tear away. 

As children do, they believed them. somewhat. There was a small feeling inside them that told them she was lying but they didn’t want to say anything. 

“Come on boys. It’s been a long day, how about a bedtime story? Afterwards, you sleep” Rosetta said softly. The boys always loved bedtime stories. One of their favorite things. 

The boys all cuddled in their signature sleep spot near the window. Peter was sat down next to the lost boys and let out of the bubble by Vidia. But he wasn’t mentally here right now. He was still picturing the lifeless body of his true love. The blood…that color. He for sure despised the color red now. 

Tears still ran down his cheeks as he sobbed. He hasn’t stopped crying since the incident. He didn’t even hear the cover story. Not that he would’ve believed it. Wendy was a kind soul. Peter noticed that. No lie would or will tarnish his perception of her. 

Tinkerbell noticed his mental absence and flew up to his face. She looked into his eyes. The once brown and hopeful ones were devoid of color. Barely a light brown. Tink knew she messed up with this one. 

She never experienced true love before so she couldn’t empathize with that part, but she did love her friends. She loved those friends of hers, but they all died the more children started to lessen their belief in them. 

She knew the feeling of grief very well so she could empathize with that. 

“Peter…come on now. Everything will be alright. Wendy was only trying to trick you” 

Don’t do it Tink!

“She didn’t love you, it wasn’t real” she tapped lightly on his nose as a small way to bring him to reality. 

Yep…she just had to say it. 

Peter had memories of him and Wendy having fun together. How she looked at him and made him laugh. How she made his brothers laugh and experience what having a mother was like. Even if it was small. 

Her kindness. Her gentleness. There’s no way that was a trick or a lie. 

“What?” he said quietly. His eyes zeroed in on her in less than a second. He stopped crying. 

“She didn’t love ya pete.” Rosetta flew up next to tink. Some part of her knew this was wrong but had to try to get him to understand. 

There it was again. That word, love. The way Wendy made him feel…there’s no way…

“We had to do it. There was no other choice” Vidia said with a stern tone but it was a little soft. 

They had to do it?! Why?! What reason could they have to kill AND lie on an innocent girl?!

“You…killed…her” Peter said slowly, his fists balled up. The rage was seeping through. One more wrong word and he might snap. 

Cubby sniffled and tugged at Peter’s short sleeve. “Tink said she was going to take us to a horrible place peter. The faes saved us”. Cubby wasn’t sure to really believe the fairies but…surely they wouldn’t hurt Wendy for no reason. 

Peter snapped his head over to Cubby. The look in his eye was evident that Peter was…not okay to say the least.

“What?!” He barked

Tink knew what was about to happen. Seems like he’s going to be hard to get through to. 

“Peter please! We did this for you, all of you” she flew up to his face again and looked into his eyes. Searching for any sign of him believing her. In an instant. In less than two seconds. Peter smacked her away from his face. Smacked her hard enough for her to hit the ground. 

“For me?! You did this for me?! You killed her! The only person that…that..that I LOVED! She was kind to me. Not a monster!” Peter seethed as he looked down at her. 

The other lost boys stood there in shock. Peter would never hurt Tink or her friends. Sure, he swatted her away when she was annoying but never a full pledged smack. Pete basically did the equivalent of smacking your aunt in the face. 

The other faes were shocked too but instantly got into action. Iridessa constrained Peter back with vines. Rosetta and Vidgia helped tinkerbell off the floor with concerned expressions. 

Peter squirmed and thrashed relentlessly. His rage boiling over big time the more he was tied up. 

“Let me go you monsters! You killers! Let me go, you bugs!” Peter tried to get away but he couldn’t. Some of the lost boys began to cry and hug Peter to calm him down.

“Peter stop!” screamed skunk

“Peter please” said nibs

The boy of discussion wasn’t listening to them at all. His main focus was tinkerbell and the other faes. Peter has never felt this much anger in his entire life…which is a long time. The color came back to eyes but it was the same color as Wendy’s blood but with a brighter more glowing hue. 

“I’ll kill you Tinkerbell if that’s the last thing I ever do!” Peter fumed as he still tried to get out of the vines that were wrapped around his arms and legs. Tinkerbell looked into his eyes. There was real truth and intent in them.

This made her angry, but she stayed composed. Vidia was about to smack Peter, but Tink flew up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Vidia, Rosetta, Iridessa…take the boys further up the tree. I need to have a talk with peter” 

The Faes did as she asked and took the boys out of sight. Rosetta was a little hesitant, so she added an extra layer of vines around him just in case, then she left with the others. 

Tink flew up to Peter’s face…and smacked him. Not as hard as she pushed Wendy but hard enough to leave some pain. It hurt. It really did. Tink wasn’t one for physical discipline, that was Vidia and Rosetta’s job but a lesson needed to be taught. 

Peter let tears fall down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the physical pain of the slap or the emotional pain of Wendy’s death. Either way, he was hurting. 

Her face was composed but eyebrows furrowed. “Peter…you know what happened to my kind. We died off one by one. Because little brats out there stopped believing in us. You and those boys were going to leave us behind and forget…I couldn’t have that.”

Peter's eyes widened at the realization. He forgot all about tink and the others while he was on that ship, the boys did too. But still…Wendy didn’t deserve that…wait..her brothers. Where were her brothers?! They were on the ship to…oh sweet neverland. 

“John…John and Michael. Where are they?!” Peter asked with fear but anger in his tone. 

Did this boy not hear her? Did he just blatantly ignore what she just said?! This angered Tink further. So much so that…she wasn’t mindful of what she’ll say

“Dead! Their dead peter! All three of them! They drowned and died just like their sister!” Tink yelled at him. And she regretted it as soon as she said it. The hurt look in Peter’s eyes was all it took for her heart to sink.

“No…no. You're lying…please tell me you're lying!” Peter begged as more tears left his eyes. 

Tinkerbell wanted to lie, to tell him all of it was some big joke. But how could she?  He already saw Wendy die and she already yelled that her brothers were dead. Wendy’s death was already an indication that she couldn’t even lie if she wanted to. 

Her silence was loud, loud enough for him to know the answer. The dam broke further and he bursted out in full uncontrollable sobs. It hurt Tinkerbell to see him like this but she had to do what she needed to do. 

“I hate you” Peter breathed out as he sobbed, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you, you monster!”

Those words shocked Tinkerbell. Off all things that was the last thing she would ever expect him to say to her. That hurt worse than the slap he gave her. No, she couldn’t show weakness. Not at a time like this. 

“You ungrateful little brat. I gave you this home! I gave you brothers and the chance to never grow up! You have every child's dream yet you dare speak to me that way?! I gave you everything” She reprimanded. 

“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE! You could’ve taken any other kid yet you took me! You ripped my life away once and did it again! I was going to have a life with-.” Peter felt sick as he saw the dead body of Wendy in his mind again. Not to mention her brothers bodies are at the bottom of the ocean by now “you took their life…you killed them”

How could he not see that this was not necessary?! 

“ We would’ve died if you left!” 

“You think we would’ve forgotten you?! We care about you as much as you do for us. How could we possibly forget you?!” Peter sobbed louder as the pain in his heart grew bigger each second. 

“Why didn’t you just come with us?” his voice was small and faint, the crying was making him lose his voice. 

Tinkerbell was caught off guard by that question. 

“What?” she didn’t need to ask him that. She understood the question very well-

“...you could’ve left with us…”

Tink didn’t think of that. Not at all. You mean to tell her she didn’t have to kill three innocent children? No, that’s not possible. 

No, all of it was for a reason. That’s final.

“You killed them” Peter repeated as his mind and heart continued to shatter into pieces. 

“well…I didn’t bring them here. The only person to blame here is you” more words she regretted as soon as they slipped out of her mouth. Did she really just say that?! Take it back, take it back!

“No wait I’m-”

“My fault...MY FAULT?!” Rage settled over Peter again as tears flowed. 

“No, Peter please”

“I just wanted to give them a better life YOU KILLED THEM YOU MURDERER!”

The argument went on back and forth until Peter refused to listen to anything she had to say. All words that came out of her mouth fell on deaf ears as he had one thing set on his mind. 

He wasn’t even looking her in the eye. Just at the floor as tears dropped onto it. He spoke his final words “....count your days Tinkerbell”

Tinkerbell stopped trying to get through to him. That was a threat. Not an empty one either. Tink decided it was best to leave Peter alone to cool off because right now he wasn’t in the right space to talk to. And she was a little bit scared of his presence. 

She flew out of the window and sat on top of a tree branch. 

“He’ll come around Tink, everything will be fine and go back to how things used to be” she told herself with a smile. She actually believed that. 

For the following days, weeks, and months, Peter wouldn't talk to any of the Faes. Hell, he wouldn't even speak. Not even to the lost boys.

He did a couple times, but to only tell them the fairies were lying to them. After that, Vidia banned the boys from ever going into Peter's room.

They were only allowed to visit him when it was feeding time. Peter wouldn't take food from the fairy girls, so the boys were the best way to ensure his health.

At these times one of the boys would be accompanied by a fairy to make sure Peter wouldn't tell any lies. Or put down any belief in them if he did manage to say something.

Tink was the only fairy who refused to see him. She couldn't bare seeing him in that condition. That pure hatred and intent to kill in his eyes.

It hurt all of the fairies honestly, to the very core of their being. It hurt to lie. It hurt to see the boys being unsure and skeptical around them. They never wanted none of this to happen. But it did...and they were paying for it internally everyday.

They didn't want to treat Peter as if he was some prisoner who did a heinous crime but if they let him go their lives would be at stake.

And Peter didn't know is that...he would remain in that room..,for a very long time.

-

To pixie hollow/Tinker bell fans I'm letting you know now that I only watched Pirate Fairy and Secret of the wings in the entire franchise. So, I don't know that much about the characters. I'm basing half of my knowledge off of the Peter Pan movie in 1953.

If you want to drop some info in my inbox, go ahead and if you have any questions drop them there too.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

#tinkerbell #disney fairies #iridessa #vidia #Rosetta #silvermist #fawn #Youtube #pixie hollow #au #FLWBF au #my asks are open

[god-of-fandoms]

Here it is - a scene from my familiar faces au! I hope you enjoy it!

Tw: cursing, eye trauma, mentions of arranged marriage

---

Nya grunts in pain as she's thrown to the floor for what seems like the fiftieth time tonight. Scrap N' Tap is always rough - she has her growing collection of scars to account for that - but tonight seems different. Colder, somehow, and so much harsher than ever before. Her ribs are bruised to hell and the blood filling her mouth indicates that she's lost a tooth. The chuckling of the crew slowly falls silent, and her blood begins to run cold as a shadow looms in front of her.

Of fucking course. Why else would the pirates stop holding back unless he wanted something?

"Oh, my dear," and FSM the way Nadakhan calls her that in his sickly sweet tone just makes her want to throw up, "I can tell you're tiring of all of this. Why don't you just give in and stop all this pain?"

Nya spits out a mouthful of blood (and what she's almost certain is one of her incisors) at the djinn. "For the last time, dickbag," she hisses at his disapproving glare, "I'm not wishing for shit."

Nadakhan sighs as he floats closer, ignoring her attempts to flinch back. One thing she’s learned since being stuck on the misfortune? The captain has no fucking sense of personal space. It’s a trait that makes her shiver with disgust, especially when conversation circles back to the reason theyre stuck in this tango.

Speaking of which…

“My crew have been searching day and night, and your friends are still nowhere to be found.” Nadakhan’s golden eyes steadily burn a hole into her soul. She looks away, favoring the sight of her blood dripping onto the deck over that of the djinn’s face. “It seems that they are particularly good at hiding where I cannot see. But, my dear, you’ll come to find-” he grabs Nya’s throat in a bruising grip, ripping a strangled gasp from between her teeth as she's choking again, she can't breathe she can't breathe she can't breathe - "I always find what I'm looking for eventually. The other ninja will be in my grasp within the month, and once I have them? They will know pain like nothing they have known before, I swear to you."

He throws her to the floor once again. Her bruised ribs cry out in agony, but the feeling of air entering her lungs again drowns out the now familiar pain. A calloused hand finds its way to her hair, twisting a loose strand, and once again Nya has to fight back the urge to vomit.

"It doesn't have to be that way if you could just tell me where to find them. I can be merciful, and while it cannot be denied that I used to despise you for destroying Djinjago, it was not your intention to do so. Ever since you joined us-" ha, joined as if my only other choice wasn't to let you have him - "I have found it harder to argue against your usefulness. You would make a brilliant pirate, my dear."

Nya gives the djinn no response other than a scoff. She would rather die a million times than to see the day she'd willingly take orders from this son of a bitch. He sighs and turns his back on her, floating towards the center of the Scrap N' Tap arena. She wishes she had a knife to plunge into his spine.

"Your friends would not need to suffer, either, as long as they agreed to cooperate as well. I could let you all help me in my rule over Ninjago. It is... unfortunate that your brother and the nindroid were too late for this deal, but once I have my Delara back and receive infinite wishes I could be persuaded to bring them back-"

"HIS NAME IS JAY, YOU BASTARD!"

Nadakhan freezes. The rest of the crew falls eerily silent as well. Nya has been in control of water long enough to know that this is what it feels like in the calm before a raging storm.

"What did you just say to me?" The djinn asks, his words knife sharp. He turns to face her once again, and shit he's fucking enraged. It takes everything in Nya to glare back at him when her brain is telling her it's not safe run away DANGER RUN-

"His name is Jay, not Delara. I don't give a shit that he looks like your dead fucking fiancee - they could be twins for all I care - that doesn't change the fact that he's his own person. Delara is dead, Captain, and I'd rather gouge out my own eye than let you marry him because you think it will bring her back."

Nadakhan's nostrils flare as he flies towards her, arm outstretched as if to hit her. Nya can't help it - she flinches away, squeezing her eyes shut as she waits for the blow to come.

It doesn't.

After a few tense seconds, she looks up again. Nadakhan floats there, a peaceful look across his face as if he hadn't appeared ready to end her fucking life a moment before. Has he somehow managed to calm himself down

"Let me get this straight, my dear," and nope, he's even more angry than he was before, if the way his words drip with icy venom are a hint of his current emotional state, "Despite what you say about your precious Jay, I'd know my beloved anywhere. He may go on believing that he is not her, but once I have him in my grasp - and I will have him - he'll be whoever I say he is. And once I wed him and gain infinite wishes, I will be able to bring back the soul of my beloved Delara from the departed realm. With her spirit in his body, we will be reunited at last!"

Nya has to actively fight her nausea as she looks at the djinn's dreamy expression. Pure unadulterated horror courses through her. She knew that the djinn wanted to marry Jay under the delusion that he was a reincarnation of his bitchass fiancee, but for him to blatantly admit that he didn't give a single shit about Jay's thoughts and feelings on the matter - to admit to his plan of letting Delara permanently possess his body??? - makes her actively sick.

"You're a monster," she gasps, and it only makes him grin sadistically. "Jay will never marry you! He'll fight back every step of the way, and so will I!"

"My dear, Jay doesn't get a choice. No matter what, I will wed him and we will rule Ninjago together. And as for you..." His grin only grows wider as he looks away from her to admire the gleaming metal of his hook. He gestures to Dogshank and before she knows it the beast of a woman is restraining her, and despite her struggling she won't budge. "You're very against this wedding, aren't you? In fact, if my memory hasn't betrayed me, I recall you saying you'd 'rather gouge out your own eye than let me marry him'.

Nya freezes. The djinn is getting closer, too close, and the way he's gazing at his hook sends a bolt of terror through her. "I - I didn't actually mean that!" she stutters as her efforts in struggling against Dogshank double in intensity. She's completely unable to move, however, and her breathing gets harder and faster as Nadakhan raises the curved blade to just above her left eye. He wouldn't really, would he?

Nadakhan pauses, golden eyes roaming over her terrified face with amusement. "You didn't?" He asks, faux disappointment drowning his voice. He begins to pull away his hook, and the sigh of relief she lets out is embarrassingly audible.

"I guess I'll just have to do it myself, then!"

The hook pierces her eye.

The pain is instant and blinding. it's so much worse than every other injury she's faced as a ninja. It courses through her veins, hot and heavy, with no sign of stopping.

The hook digs deeper and though she can't hear anything she knows she lets out a scream as she feels it tear through her eye, ripping through nerves and tissue. The pain whites out her brain, she can't think of anything else, she can't breathe, she can't see-

It feels like minutes of agony as the blade twists and digs through her eye socket, hell bent on causing as much pain as possible. It's working. She simultaneously can't feel anything but her eye and feels every inch of her body as all of her nerves echo with pure blinding excruciation.

Then the hook freezes, and she's only given a brief reprieve from the pain before it yanks out of her socket, taking her eye with it.

The blinding pain overwhelms her again as nerves are ripped from the space her eyeball occupied moments before. Through her ringing ears, she can hear someone screaming. A minute later, she realizes that those are her cries.

She's dropped unceremoniously to the floor by Dogshank, where she lies in a growing pool of her own blood. The pain is still coursing though her, but it slowly ebbs... along with her consciousness.

Through rapidly closing eyes - eye, she only has one now - she can see Nadakhan as he floats towards her crumpled form. He lifts her chin gently, seemingly admiring his handiwork. Not has never been this tired. At this point, the pain is set aside as her body shuts down. Nadakhan tuts at her visible exhaustion and wipes away her tears (when did she start crying? She can't bring herself to care).

"Poor girl," he mumbles, his mournful tone a sharp contrast to the (rapidly blurring) smirk on his face. "This wouldn't have had to happen if you had just told me what I wanted to know."

Fuck that. She gathers the last of her strength as she glares at him and rasps, "'m not tellin' you shit".

Nadakhan scowls, but it quickly turns into a self satisfied smile. "Even in a time like this, you still have your fire. Good. And as for you 'not telling me shit', I believe you now. But mark my words, my dear..."

Nya is drifting off; Nadakhan's voice is getting more and more muffled as she sinks into her exhaustion. The last thing she hears are the djinn's parting words to her.

"Jay and the rest of your friends will be mine eventually. In fact, I doubt I'll have to look much longer. I guarantee you that they'll come to me themselves."

---

SO DO WE LIKE IT

this took me a crazy short amount of time compared to most of my writing. I'll have to thank @tornoleander for that because I listened to the girl with one eye (Florence + the machine) like you mentioned when talking abt my au and DAMN it got me in the mindset for this like nothing else lemme tell you. If there were to be a ff!au playlist at some point that would definitely be on it (along with nothing by Emily autumn because that gives me serious jay and nadakhan vibes lol)

Im probably gonna edit this soon because I'm so tired and this is probably shit rn. Bear with me though the typos fam.

anyway I really hope you all like this! Your feedback is always important to me so tell me what you think.

as always, feel free to ask me anything about this fic! I'm always happy to answer your questions :D

Thanks for reading this! I hope it makes you more excited about this au.

Have a lovely day!

-Lee :)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lee’s fics #ninjago skybound #familiar faces au #ff!au #ff!nadakhan #ff!nya #ITS DONE YAYYYYY #low-key this is my favorite thing I've ever wrote #at least for now #stay tuned for more! #also the for all the support #it means a lot to me #love you all <3

[alexisomnias]

— "DO YOU THINK WE STAY TOGETHER IN EVERY UNIVERSE?" . . . | twst

⤷ their thoughts on eternal love

characters | overblot boys

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“i hope so…”

Riddle wishes he knew if you two were just as happy in another lifetime as this one. What if you hated each other? Despised? Fell out of love? What if you fall out of love in this one? Oh so many thoughts for just one person, one person he wants to love in every lifetime. How he hopes you love him like this in every universe, he can’t imagine one where he would despise you.

He looks over at you and smiles, "I'm quite happy with you in this one." your laugh and positive response has his heart throbbing, he takes a sip of his tea. 

Little does he notice are the beautiful white and red roses blossoming beside you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“I hope not.”

No lifetime is the same, what if in another one he got you killed? He could never live with himself if he would’ve. He cant imagine his life without you, but he hopes for you to never go the pain that is him, that you never have to work that hard just to be loved back again.

Leona shuts his eyes with a groan, "just be happy I love you in this one." you laugh shaking your head. He doesn’t open his eyes, keeping his head adverted, instead his tail wraps around your leg in a slow and precise motion, speaking in volumes.

two rogue cats pass by strutting next to you both. You point it out with a smile as Leona turns his head with a grunt.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“let’s not think about that.”

Azul immediately shuts down the thought, not because its a bad one, no in fact he’s excited by the idea, but its because he cannot confidently say yes. He isn’t the epitome of lovable, and he isnt exactly a catch… he also almost killed you.

In another universe, lifetime even, he could’ve killed you right then, over petty insecure reasons. Then you two would’ve never been able to share kisses and words of love. He can’t confidently say you’d love him in every universe and form. 

In the aquarium of the lounge two fishes of beautiful colors swim by you both side by side.

JAMIL VIPER

“No… I dont think so.”

Jamil says honestly. In another universe the chances of you meeting are very slim, neverless the chances of him avoiding killing you. He likes to think this is the luckiest universe he could have, but deep down he wonders if theres a universe where he loves you freely.

He’d like that, he thinks staring over at you, he’d like to love you free and unbound from the strains that keep him in the Scalding Sands. He’d like to love you in another universe, one where he’s free to love you how he wants, how you deserve.

Past the both of you, two beautiful snakes slither by, blending in with the gorgeous sands of Scarabia.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

“I love you in this one, thats all that matters.”

Vil isn’t as entertained at the idea of other universes as you are. He loves and thrives in this one, he’s happy enough in this world with you so he doesnt have to think about it. To him, no world can be better then this one, if they do exist.

Maybe, in other universes, you two havent even met, maybe your dating someone other then him, vice versa. But theres really no way for him to know, now, is there? Not that it matters to him. He’ll love you with his whole heart here by your side. 

Next to him, he smoothes is brush out on the pallet, the eyeshadow he takes from being “Husband” next to pallet “Wife”.

IDIA SHROUD

”you’re crazy…”

he spits out embarrassed. Your getting into the multiverse theories now too huh? twisttok got you too…. don’t get him wrong.. he’s not exactly… against the idea.. its just, you want to love him in other universes too..? Or are you just saying that too tease him… ugh! Don’t get him involved in this kind of theories!!

despite the insulting thoughts, the tips of his hair are pink and he’s resisting the urge to chew his finger nails in embarrassment. How embarrassing! Lets just!! Continue the game!! he urges, eyes adverted as you laugh, your avatars, a couple in the in game universe, run side by side.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

”I’d make sure of it.”

Malleus has no doubt you guys fall in love in every universe out there. He has so much love for you in this one alone he’s sure it could pass on to any alternate versions of him, and if there is one where he doesn’t he believes them to be an absolute disgrace to his name. 

If there was a universe where he didn’t love you, didnt want to spend the rest of your years by your side? His cool, large hands slip in with yours. A kiss planted on your forehead.

In the sky above you both, the moon and sun stare across the sky.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #suns pencil.

[bitten-fruit]

price….. in a.. a.. cowboy hat

girl... you have no idea what you have done to me with this ask. Cowboy Price!?? I had so much fun with this, I might even do a part 2! I'm sorry this took me so long - I really hope you like it!!! ♡

18+ mdni - cw: chasing, spanking - 3.2k words

John Price owns the ranch that neighbours your father's. You've got a habit of climbing the fence between them, snooping around Mr Price's property and leaving traces of your misbehaviour behind. This time, he catches you.

Here’s part 2!

Daddy had warned you about wandering onto Mr Price’s property. The lichen-coated fence that separated his land and your father’s spanned miles; carving through tall dry grass, through woods of oak and pine trees, over a bumbling shallow creek. It was easy enough to climb over, but there was one little gap in the barrier, where the splintering planks had fallen from their fastenings. Tucked under a towering cottonwood tree, hidden by the grass, it was easy to wander through as if it were more of your own land on the other side.

Mr Price was a reticent man. An arguably shadowy figure, who you might occasionally see on horseback up on the hilltops of his ranch, tan cattleman hat bowed as he surveyed his acreage. You had met him, once or twice, as a girl. Then, he was in his early twenties, tall and aloof. Eldest of three sons, all three of whom had enlisted and served, sent to fight a war whose nature you were oblivious to in your innocence. He had been absent for years, and once his father was taken by whatever cancer he chose not to treat, John was the only one of the three to return.

His father you had known, vaguely, only as a man that your father despised with an unwavering passion. Some daft rivalry, dating back long before you were born. Whatever enmity existed between old men had not quite been passed on to the last remaining son, it seemed – where there might have been out-and-out conflict, existed only cold disinterest.

Thus explained your intrigue. You found yourself strangely captivated by him, in a nosy sort of way, once he had finally come home. Suddenly bearded and jaded, no longer the bright-faced young man you had distantly remembered, he had picked up where his father had left off. He lived alone, as far as you were aware, in his inherited six-bedroom farmhouse, atop a five-thousand-acre piece of natural splendour. Don’t bother the man, daddy would tell you, he’s not our friend.

But you had always been at the mercy of your impish curiosity. You couldn’t help it. It was an impulse, a compulsion, to stick your fingers where they didn’t belong. You would habitually explore his acres when you came home from college. You’d peek into his empty old shacks, pet his mooing cattle, pick handfuls of wildflowers from his unkempt fields.

Sometimes you’d sneak into his stables. You’d coo at his horses, stroke their velvet snouts, feed them the flowers you had plucked with a smile. They had grown to like you, his sweet horses, you wished you could know their names. They probably liked you more than him, no doubt, the mysterious little neighbour that would sneak in at dusk and feed them treats.

But your most regular habit – one that had gotten you into trouble before – was your proclivity for picking bunches of glossy red cherries from his rows of fruiting cherry trees. The orchard was under-loved and weedy, but those glimmering little baubles of ruby were just too delightful to let fall to the grass and rot.

He had caught you, once, while your arms were stretched far above you, reaching among the droopy branches and floppy leaves to pick the brightest sun-ripened cherries. You had heard him yelling;

“Hey! I see you in there, missy!”

Lips stained red, slick with sweet juice, you gave him a puckish grin before you ran off like a rabbit and hopped back over the fence.

“There’ll be trouble next time I catch you over here, little lady,” he had roared after you, watching you clamber over the oaken planks, “You hear me?”

It didn’t stop you, of course, whatever threat he threw at you. If anything, it emboldened you. Now you meandered down the rows of cherry trees like they belonged to you, picking the prettiest ones, popping them behind your teeth and meticulously nibbling the flesh from the pit, spitting them into the grass as you moved onto the next.

You left a trail wherever you ventured. Little wet pits and green tooth-pick stalks in piles around the place; in stables, along pathways, among the cows. Sometimes you’d leave juicy red fingerprints on doorframes, on the planks of the fence, on horse snouts – perfectly incriminating.

Today was no different. You wandered in scuffing sandals along an old dirt road, green sprigs of grass almost covering it entirely. Some old route that settlers may have followed state to state, spotted occasionally with two-hundred-year-old milestones, ignored just enough to have been spared from crumbling to dust.

Shaded by a cottonwood, humming to yourself, you created a little tipi with your cherry stalks on the flat top of a mile marker. Balanced them carefully as you licked the fruity flesh from your teeth. And when a gentle breeze blew it over, scattering your creation, you leaned over the stone to pick them from the dry gravel around its base.

One, two, three, four…

At the familiar rumble of a truck trundling over dirt, you straighten your spine, palms resting on the edge of the milestone as you look over your shoulder. A dusty Chevy square-body had already coasted to a stop behind you, red paint faded and matte after a decade or two of proper use and neglect.

There he was, the enigmatic man, hanging his elbow out of the open window. Mr Price squinted through the glare of the afternoon sun, crow’s-feet pinching, eyes barely shaded by the cattleman he wore even inside his truck. Your throat bobbed with a swallow as you caught his eye; the flitter of adrenaline buzzed in your chest, toeing the line between nerves and excitement.

With a disapproving suck of his teeth, he grumbled at you, “What’d I tell you about catching you back here?”

Plucking the short skirt of your cotton dress downward, to cover where it had ridden up, you spun around to face him demurely.

“You said there’d be trouble,” you answered with a simper, shyly scratching the back of one hand with the fingernails of the other.

“Mhm,” he grunted in agreement, tapping the metal door with his palm. He flicked his head in gesture for you to make your way around to the passenger side. “Get in.”

A crease pulled between your brows as you frowned at him. “What for?”

“I’m takin’ you back to your daddy,” he barked, irate and impatient, “I’ve got some words for him, too.”

You absently kicked the rocky dirt with the heel of your sandal, pouting at him. “What words would those be?”

With a snort, he rocked his head to peer out of his windshield, then back to you. “To keep a fuckin’ handle on his daughter.”

“Don’t think there’s anything you could tell him that he hasn’t already tried,” you mumbled, attempting to subtly flick the handful of cherry stalks you had collected to the ground.

He chuckled at that, breathy and hoarse, a hint of frustration in his throat. “I believe that,” he scoffed, “c’mon. In. Don’t make me ask again.”

You chewed on your lip, squinting in challenge as you stood up straight. “Or what?”

Glowering at you for a moment, his nostrils flared in frustration, as he seemed to swallow what must have been an inappropriate retort. Instead, his arm retracted through his window, and following the thud of the handle he swung open the door with his forearm.

With a hop he landed in the dirt, dust rising from under his well-worn leather boots. You hadn’t seen him up close in as long as you could remember, and Christ, how he towered over you. It may well have been the looming shadow of his sizzling anger that made him seem so daunting, so delightfully thrilling. You felt the shiver of gooseflesh tingle down the nape of your neck as you tilted your head to look up at him, sheepishly watching his steady approach.

“You’ll be in more trouble than I will if you lay a hand on me,” you spat, with a faint curl in your lips, almost daring.

He gazed down the bridge of his nose at you, wearing a snide and thin smirk, curled under his dense beard. But as his gaze raked you up and down, his sneer shifted quickly into a pout of disapproval, eyes caught on your chest.

“Care to explain this?” He queried severely, wide hand reaching for you; you leaned back further against the milestone behind you as if it might evade him. With his fingers he pinched the cream linen of your blouse, and for a moment you feared he was peering down the gap - brazenly inspecting your bare breasts underneath.

But, no, he instead curled the fabric between his fingers to show you the bright red stain dribbled down the front of your dress.

Oops. Your gut reaction was to giggle, yet unsure whether to admit guilt or feign ignorance.

As you parted your lips to speak, his judging hand suddenly moved to your face; a hold of your chin with a thumb and hooked finger. Piercing glare glued to your lips, his eyes sunk into a defeated ire, shadowed under the brim of his cattleman.

Your tongue writhed behind your teeth, heart thumping in your throat; as he tilted your head up and to the side. He used his other thumb to wipe your bottom lip, pointedly slowly, from the corner to the centre.

“You’re a little thief,” he gritted, dropping your head and peering at the red smear of juice on the pad of his thumb. “Aren’t you.”

Were you scared of him? It was hard to distinguish your fluttering heartrate between terror and thrill – perhaps a touch of both. Because you didn’t know him. You couldn’t trust him. You had no basis to assume he wouldn’t club you with a closed fist and throw you in the back of his pickup. But you felt the tingle his touch left behind on your lip. You got stuck on his pinched blue eyes, the glare of the sun reflecting off your dress illuminating them like they glowed from within.

“No I’m not,” you muttered, readjusting your dress after he left creases in the low neckline.

“And a liar?” He scoffed, as he grabbed one of your wrists – lifting your hand to reveal the sticky burgundy juice under your fingernails, red drips dried in your palm. “You’re covered in evidence, missy.”

Snatching your hand from him, you crossed your arms in petulance. “It’s not stealing if you don’t use it.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” he snapped, hooking his hands onto his hips. “Now get in the goddamn truck.”

“I can walk home,” you grumbled, “you’re not the boss of me.”

Huffing in anger, he leaned forward – looming over you with a domineering lour. “While you’re trespassing on my property – yes I am.”

Glaring up at him from under your brow, you nibble at the inside of your lip as you pouted at him. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t go with you. Kidnap me?”

He tilted his head, shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got some rope in the truck,” he gruffly warned, “you gonna make me use it?”

Did you imagine the glint in his eye? Did you make up the lascivious quip in his tone? Whether or not it was dreamt, it plucked a coy smirk in your lips.

He was daring you, wasn’t he? Goading you to challenge him.

So with a glistening smile you reached for his cattleman hat – plucked it from his head, and swiftly placed it on your own. Too big to sit properly, you perched it on the back of your head so that you could still see out from under the brim.

“Hey!” He barked, lunging to snatch it back from you – but you bolted, kicking off your sandals, ducking under his arm and sprinting across the dirt road. Through the field of grass and dry wildflowers, you bounded like a deer. “Fuck’s sake.”

Holding his hat in place, you peeked over your shoulder in your escape, and he was swiftly in pursuit.

“God dammit, girl, you get back here!” He roared – already closing the distance. You hadn’t expected a man as bulky as him to sprint as fast as he was, charging after you like a grizzly.

You only giggled, leaping over fallen logs and stray planks of wood, weaving between the tall white oaks that littered his prairies.

“If you get so much as a dent in that hat I’ll fuckin’–”

“You’ll what?” You squealed through a grin, holding the skirt of your short dress in a fist against your hips, to allow your legs to sprint in full stride.

You heard him grunt, close to a growl, as he encroached on you. “You’ll be in big fuckin’ trouble!”

Breathless, panting, you failed to think of any witty response as you dashed towards one of the many stables on his expansive property – this one devoid of horses or livestock, simply a storage building for stacks of haybales and racks of tools. You’d perused it before. He might have found more discarded cherry pits in there.

He was behind you already, as you barrelled through the ajar stable door, stumbling into the centre of the dishevelled space. Illuminated only by the cracks of glowing sunlight that broke through gaps in the plywood boards, you stood amongst dust and scattered hay. You turned and faced the entrance, watching in anticipation as he steamed in after you.

Face burning red in fury and exasperation, he jabbed two angry fingers in your direction. “Give me the hat,” he ordered, throaty and severely – no longer joking.

But stubborn as you were, overly enjoying the needless chase, you were not going to capitulate that easily. You stood poised to dash, and with hunched shoulders, he prepared to hound after you.

“I like it,” you puffed, exhilarated, purposefully impudent. You pinched the brim, pulling it down with a disingenuous hat-tip. “It probably looks better on me.”

“Even if it does,” he chided through teeth, out of breath, “it’s not yours.”

You snickered girlishly, pursing your lips. “Maybe it should be.”

“Give it to me.” He thundered, hand outstretched, your heart flipped in your ribs at the sudden eruption of stern rage.

So you spun on the ball of your bare foot, before flitting hastily towards the rickety ladder that led up to the hayloft. Clambering up it like a spider, the old wood and rusted nails squealed in dispute of being used for likely the first time in decades.

But he was blindingly rapid in his chase, and before you made it even halfway up the ladder, his heaving forearm scooped around your waist, hooking you by the stomach.

“C’mere,” he growled through a clenched jaw, as he peeled you from the ladder; hoisting you like a small animal, holding your back to his chest with a constricting arm, leaving your feet dangling high off the ground.

You writhed and kicked, bucking like a goat, still holding his hat tightly to your head to prevent him from snatching it back from you. “Let go of me!” You squeaked, still giggling.

“No,” he snarled, “I’m taking my fuckin’ hat back, and then I’m taking you back to your daddy so he can knock some goddamn sense into you.”

You whinged, clutching his thick forearm in an effort to loosen his grip; nails digging into his bronzed and hairy skin, corded with veins bulged from the exertion of keeping you contained. His body burned like a furnace, pectorals stiffening underneath you as he flexed them, while he hauled you towards the exit.

“It’s just a hat,” you whined, “you’ve probably got heaps of them.”

Your obstinance was aimless – no particular interest in the hat, and no true understanding of why you fought so desperately to keep it. Maybe you just wanted to see how far you could push him. Wanted to see what would happen.

“It was my father’s,” he griped, anger approaching a boiling point as you continued to squirm around in his grip.

You groaned in dispute, still holding the leather cattleman tightly to your head. “Well he won’t be needing it, will he?”

That was a step over the line.

You knew it immediately, quick to bite your tongue after the words spat from your lips.

And his retaliation was sudden and severe; dragging you closer to the exit, he tossed you unceremoniously, almost tumbling down with you into the pile of block-shaped haybales that sat by the stable door. You landed face-down against the bale, winded, a squeak jumping from your chest with the impact; and his hat toppled from your head, rolling out of reach.

He kneeled beside you, with his forearm weighing against your lower back - you were flustered and confused by his haste. Skirt hitched up by the fall, he suddenly swung his free hand down with an open palm, smacking against the bare skin of your ass with a thunderous whack.

“Ah!” You squealed, a shriek, followed quickly by a breathless whine that slipped from your lungs outside of your control. The explosive clap rang in your ears, echoing within the bowels of the stables, loud and shrill. And the sting was sharp, hot and prickling like a brand, no doubt the raised outline of his hand was quick to form in your shivering skin.

A silence followed, pregnant and heavy, and you dared not move nor breathe too loudly – you inhaled and exhaled with trembling breaths, lips parted and wet, eyes wide as you stared into the packed hay.

He was dead quiet, too. Panting throatily, he kept you in place; grip of you not easing, though he stayed utterly still. You thought he might apologise, might express some remorse, might beg for you not to tell your father what he did. But he was silent. Like he had even surprised himself.

You tilted your head slowly, peering at him doe-eyed over your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, close to a whisper, dripping with pleading humiliation.

“For what?” He growled; his glower potently intimidating, a glimmer of voracity in his shadowy eyes, strained like he was suppressing greater hunger.

With a whine you turned your head back, facing ahead into the shack wall, you spoke quietly and nervously. “For taking your hat.”

Followed another swing of his arm, wide hand colliding with your rear in another deafening crack, forcing a laboured squeak from your chest. But there was something more than pain in your throat, wasn’t there? A whisper of thrill, a yelp of delight in your subsequent gasp.

And he must have heard it, took it as encouragement; as you felt the hand of his arm that pinned you down curl into a fist, balling the fabric of your dress tightly in his palm – lifting up the hem even further, you felt the cool air of the stable bite at your stinging skin as your ass was entirely exposed.

“Yeah?” He rumbled, gritting teeth, huffing like a beast. “What else?”

#bet his handprint is the size of a dinner plate #john price #call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price #cod fanfic #john price x you #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price smut

[wonbriiize]

bestfriend!Anton who puts you on his lap to give you affection, touches your hair, kisses you on the neck...being super clingy and fluffy :(

pairing; anton x reader

genre; fluff, best friends to lovers

note; i thought this was such a cute idea so i wrote something based on it.. hope u like it anon ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

listen to your heart

while working in retail isn’t all that horrible most of the time, you despise it over the holidays. everyone goes crazy as they search for last-minute christmas presents for their loved ones, friends or anyone else.

today was one of those days when everything was so annoying that you really thought about quitting your job right then and there.

luckily, your shift has ended and you are now on your way back home. you seem to be forgetting what a terrible day it has been so far as you imagine yourself curled up in your warm bed while drinking hot choco and watching your comfort movie.

“*y/n*, someone is waiting for you in your room,” your mom says after giving you a big hug when you arrive at home.

you‘re confused as to who it could be, until you recall that your best friend anton texted you saying he‘d drop by later as you were spamming him with messages about that one costumer who was extremely rude to you.

you run up the stairs to your room. you’re not so sure why you’re so eager to see anton, but you can’t help yourself. being with anton after a tiring day makes you feel at ease. he just has that effect on you.

“ohhh, slow down,” anton sits up on your bed. you can tell he made himself feel at home because just a second ago he was laying in your bed as if it was his own. “why are you running? is the rude customer after you?”

since you can’t tell anton that you hurried up to your room because of him, you just throw yourself on your bed. “no, i just really missed my bed. it has been an exhausting day.”

“and here i was hoping that you were running because you couldn’t wait to see me,” anton pouts, leaning back on your bed.

you’re right, you think. but i can’t let you know..

“well, apparently you were missing me because how are you at my house when i’m not even there?”

anton shrugs. “so what if i missed you, is it so wrong to miss your best friend?”

you’re shocked at how casually anton can say things like this. does he truly not realise how much of an impact his words have on you? it irritates you that he's saying these things and acting so dreamy when you're already trying to shake the thought that you like him — much more than you could ever imagine liking someone.

you sigh, laying down on your back. “i just really need to rest.”

“hey, come here,” anton pats next to him. “we can rest together.”

for a second, you’re not sure if you should really go and sit down next to him, because your feelings are all over the place today and you don’t know what could happen, but you push those thoughts aside and just go for it.

“you can lay your head on my lap. i will give you a head massage. i‘m a pro,” anton softly smiles at you.

god, he really isn’t making it easy to not fall in love with him, you sigh. your head is telling you not to do it, but for once in your life, you decide to listen to your heart instead.

you place your head gently on anton‘s lap. you’re afraid you won't be able to resist kissing anton if you open your eyes and see him staring down at you, hence why your eyes are closed.

anton starts massaging your head softly and you’re surprised at how good it actually feels.

“i didn’t expect you to be actually good at this,” you say.

“i told you i‘m a pro,” anton chuckles. hearing him giggle put a smile on your face and usually you would try to hide that, but right now, you’re just letting it happen.

“there it is,” anton whispers softly as he touches your cheek, causing you to open your eyes immediately.

“what?”

“your beautiful smile.”

you start laughing nervously. what’s his deal? why is he being extra sweet today?

“don’t say such things, anton.”

“why not?" his hand returns to your head, but instead of giving it a massage, he plays with your hair, twisting it around with his index finger.

“best friends don’t say that..” what you just said has a sad undertone, but you don’t care. maybe if anton knows that he’s kind of playing with your feelings, he will stop being like that.

anton shakes his head. “no, they don’t.. but here’s the thing, *y/n*..”

the sudden change in the atmosphere makes you nervous so you sit up. still close to anton, but there’s a little distance between the two of you now.

“i‘ve been trying to tell you for the longest time that i don’t want to be just best friends with you,” anton blurts out. “i thought it was obvious that i like you.”

world stop. anton likes me?

“but everytime i try to make a move you put me back in the friendzone, saying things like ‘best friends don’t do that..”

with a sincere expression of sadness that makes your heart hurt, anton glances down at his hands.

“i guess you really don’t like me in that way and i was just stupid to to think that-”

refusing to let anton continue, you take hold of his hand and place it directly over your heart.

“do you feel this?” you whisper.

anton nods unsure.

“my heart beats this fast everytime i‘m with you.”

“is that a good or a bad sign?” anton pulls his hand away and looks questionably at you.

his question makes you laugh. “of course it’s a good sign.. it means that you’re the reason why my heart feels so alive.”

“oh,” anton nods, a little smile forming on his face. “so you do like me.”

now it’s you who’s nodding.

just a while ago you didn’t want anton to know how you really feel about him because you were so afraid that the feeling was one-sided, but now that you know it’s mutual, you’re ready to take the initiative.

you slip closer to anton and sit down on his lap. first he’s surprised at your sudden move, but then you feel his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.

seconds later, your lips meet his. not only was your heart racing faster than before, but because your bodies were so close, you could literally feel anton‘s heart racing as well.

you weren't expecting it, but as anton plastered kisses all over your face and neck, things heated up quickly. you didn't want him to stop, but knowing that your parents could walk into your room at any point made you want to go slowly.

“maybe we should continue this when we are alone, like completely,” you whisper as anton was kissing your neck.

“hmmm,” kiss. “maybe..” kiss. “you‘re..” kiss. “right.”

he stops, looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

“this big smile looks good on you,” you put your arms around antons neck.

“and you know why i’m smiling like this? it’s because of you,” anton softly whispers before he plants another kiss on your lips.

#riize #riize imagines #riize fics #kpop #riize scenarios #riize drabbles #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize anton #anton lee #lee chanyoung #anton x reader #anton fluff #boyfriend anton #riize oneshots #riize short story #x reader #anton scenarios #sumi‘s requests ೀ

[evielmostdefinitely]

i need more about the wedding or the wedding press tour.

or smut on the train.

all of it. anything.

snow bride |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off the wedding night on the train before the press tour.

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub dynamics implied. oral fem receiving. pinvsex.

“Wait!” Corio called, hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. Your champagne soaked squeals had him grinning, hand slipping around the white material of your dress. 

“Corio,” You laughed, turning in his arms. “What are you doing?” Your eyes shone, love drunk and glassy with adoration, the high of the wedding, the reception still fresh. Your family, friends, other elitist members had waved you goodbye, with tight smiles and slithering hopes of joy for the newlyweds. 

“It’s tradition, my love.” Corio smiled. Alone, he was more generous with his affection. His hands moved, bending at the knees to hoist you, one arm under your knees, the other on your back, cradling you to his chest. 

You laughed, head tipping back, dizzy off the champagne that seemed to endlessly flow, drunk off the way Coriolanus held you while you danced. He moved into the threshold of the train’s carriage, the wafting scent of roses. Tigris and your other bridesmaids had taken the liberty of decorating the honeymoon carriage. Dozens of white roses, just like the ones from the ceremony, lined the carriage’s space. Dripping wax candles in their holders for a more romantic ambiance. A bottle of champagne and a signed card of well wishes on the plush bed, where Coriolanus set you down. 

You lay there, sprawled, the frill and pearls of your dress around you, veil fanning around your head like a halo. Coriolanus grinned over you, blonde curls fallen from his coiffed hair from the night. 

“How will this do? Hm, for the next two weeks?” Coriolanus reached his hand up, now bearing his own wedding ring, complimentary to your own. “Up to the Prima Donna’s standards?” 

The nickname you despised had you rolling your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. “It’s wonderful.” You hummed, blinking up at him. “Much nicer than what I expected.” 

“You didn’t think I’d put you in something like the tributes used to come on, did you?” Corio grinned, stroking your cheek bone affectionately. “Your father would have a noose around my neck before we ever made it to the train station.” 

“No,” You giggled, shaking your head, your hand falling gently on top of his. Rings rubbing, metal on metal. “I just… It’s nice. Feels like home.” Your now shared home with Coriolanus, you meant. A wedding present after the engagement from your father, before you moved into the Capitol’s Presidential Mansion. Always with fresh cut roses, burning candles, and soft fabrics that relaxed Corio. Made it entirely your own. 

“We’ll be back in no time, my darling.” Corio whispered, the pad of his thumb brushing over the soft rouge of your cheeks. “It will be a nice break. Nice to see all of Panem. You can see my work throughout the Districts.” 

“I can’t wait.” You hummed, lips pressing gently into the pad of his thumb. Coriolanus’ cock lurched, a jolt of excitement even at the simple tenderness of your touch. 

You watched his eyes darken, that primal need fell over him easily, lips curling in a sinister smile. His hands slithered up your arms, circling your wrist gently before he pounced, slotting his body over yours, lips pressed to yours. You loved when Coriolanus was passionate rather than powerful. When he’d kiss you like you were his lifeline, like the very thought of his lips not on yours would have him breaking apart. When he took time to explore every inch of your mouth, swallowing your breathy, needy whines, his tongue pushing past your teeth. 

You could feel his erection even through the layers of your dress, pushing into you, hips rolling and rubbing into your own. His hands anchored your wrists down, squeezing them tightly before releasing them, tangling in your hair and veil instead. 

“Corio,” You whined, the tug of your veil still pinned into your hair. “I- Let me take it off.” 

He didn’t seem to hear, or ignored you if he did. His lips trailing up and down the side of your jaw, pushing into the nape of your neck to inhale your scent, the perfume oil you dabbed yourself with before walking down the aisle- it drove Corionalus mad the entire ceremony. His hands tugged at the veil again just to hear you whine, covering his smirk by sucking a bruise into your skin. 

“Corio, please.” Your voice lilted, breathy with desperate pleasure. “Help me take it off.” 

His lips were swollen, blossoming red and plump, his tongue running over the bottom lip. Despite the glint in his eye, he pulled back, offering you a hand. The carriage was beginning to rumble, you could hear the whistles and shouts of the crowd bidding goodbye outside over the crack of fireworks illuminating the Capitol. 

Coriolanus pulled you up gently, a hand on your hip to steady you as the train started to glide. His hands squeezing the fat of your hips through the dress, gliding down your thighs, your claves to shove the fabric back up. 

“No,” You clicked, a huff of annoyance. “You have to undo the buttons.” 

“Oh.” Corio mocked, eyes cutting to yours in warning. “My apologies, Prima Donna. How dare I not know.” 

You huffed, brows furrowing into a sulking frown. “That’s not a very nice way to treat your wife on our wedding night.” You held the bedpost, his fingers trailing up your legs, squeezing over the fat of your ass- playfully or a warning, you weren’t sure. 

“You should be nice to me, Corio.” You turn, batting your eyes at him from over your shoulder. 

He lifted a brow- amused. Fingers hooking the buttons from their fastens, calloused hands ghosting down your spine, leaving you shivering. “I think I’m very nice to you.” Coriolanus declared. 

“You’re teasing me.” You frown, lip jutting partly for show- partly because you knew how much he loved it. 

“I haven’t even begun to tease you, my love.” Coriolanus’ tone dropped to a dark, husky octave that had you shivering, nails digging into the post of the bed. 

 “Corio,” You whimpered, breath caught in your throat. “Don’t be cruel. Be nice to me tonight. It’s our wedding night. No teasing.” 

Corio hummed, loud and dramatic, like he was truly thinking it over. Maybe he was. Maybe he was contemplating being so cruel and teasing you, a punishment for you daring to step out of line- so he could regain control. Or maybe he’d do the opposite, be so doting and ravenous of you, give you the attention you were requesting so you’d become desperate for it even more. Keep you in your place that way, desperate and ruined, only for him. 

Coriolanus pulled the fabric off your shoulders, with a tenderness that made your knees weak, delicately removing the dress from you until you were left bare. Standing before him in your wedding lingerie, a garter on your thigh that bore the same initials stitched as his handkerchief. It was a tradition from the old world, something people had forgotten about or let die out with so many other traditions, but you kept. It was sweet, to you, carrying a piece of him intimately to reveal later. 

Corio’s eyes never left your thigh, sinking slowly to his knees in front of you. His initials there, stitched in metallic red thread to the white silk fabric, tied to your thigh in place. “Do you like it?” You whispered, the flecks of the golden flames from the candles reflecting in his eyes. 

Coriolanus’ gaze lifted to yours, hands cupping the back of your thigh, just above the garter. “You did this?” 

“Well, I-I didn’t make it. I, uh, I had it made but it was my idea.” You blushed, heart hammering. “My grandmother used to tell us stories that her great grandmother did this. It was an Old World tradition, but-but I thought it was… endearing.” 

Coriolanus nodded, eyes flicking to yours, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips. “Endearing…” He hummed, pad of his thumb swiping over the fabric that covered your inner thigh. “Very endearing.” 

“You like it?” You squeaked, nails raking over his scalp, pushing the curls back so you could better see his face. 

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. You didn’t think he’d take to the garter over the lingerie the way he did. “I think you look wonderful with my name on you.” 

You blushed, hands raking through his hair. His fingers slipped over your panties, tugging them down slowly. Coriolanus undressed you, just as slowly and tantalizing as before, leaving you entirely bare in front of him- except for your ring and the garter. 

Corio had you pinned to the wall, hands anchored in on your hips, tongue lapping furiously at your clit, running through your folds. His eyes on you, holding your gaze, sharp squeezes to your hips when you’d tilt your head back and look away for too long. 

“Corio- oh!” You whined, pulling at his scalp, pulling him further and further into your sopping cunt. His mouth suckled at your clit. He was always so good at giving head- too good, you’d told him once, at the beginning of your relationship, though he’d never tell you who his past lovers were. 

“‘M gonna- ‘m gonna cum, Corio, please. I-I’m close, I’m so close.” You writhed under his touch, hips bucking and twisting. His hands held your firm against the wall, fingertip shaped bruises blossoming on your skin, eyes on yours, nearly challenging. 

Your fingers curled, nails digging into his scalp, yanking at the curls, moans and whimpers tumbling from your mouth as your vision blurred. You hoped the train's walls were soundproof from the other cabins. Corio would normally mock you for being so loud, tease you with a slanted grin. Thankfully, his mouth was still occupied on you, even as your legs shook and slid down the wall, further onto his face.

Your chest heaved, a sheen of sweat that accompanied your flush over your body. Corio grinned, pulling away, hands still holding you in place. His chin was dripping with your release, and he didn’t dare bother to wipe it away. Instead, he kissed you. Hand gripping your jaw firmly, snaking to the back of your head. It was filthy, him making you taste your own release on his tongue. 

“I want you,” Corio growled, a heaving breath between a rather harsh kiss. “To keep that on.” He muttered, and you knew he was talking about the garter. “And just that on for the remainder of the night, do you understand?” 

You nodded, a pathetic mewl trapped behind your teeth, nose brushing his. Corio’s thumb traced your bottom lip, brushing over the kiss bitten, swollen lip before slowly pressing his thumb in. You took the digit obediently, cheeks hollowing around his calloused finger, sucking lightly. Coriolanus’ cock throbbed at the sensation, at the sight of your rounded eyes on him, sucking at his finger. 

“If you want me to keep being nice to you,” Corio’s chin lifted, looking down at you in that authoritative way that made you throb, aching from the freshness of your last orgasm. “You keep that on. Make sure it doesn’t slip.” 

Coriolanus kept his word. He was nice to you the entire night, long into the morning when you settled into District One. Your legs wrapped around his waist, clawing at his back, pressing his head into your neck to feel closer to him. He covered you with sweet kisses, lips dragging along your cheeks, your jaw, feather light kisses that had you swooning. 

You were aching, linearly limping to the podium with Coriolanus, clutching his arm up the stairs, trying to hide your wince with every step. You’d spend the day in bed after that. Coriolanus would have orders to give, meetings- boring matters you were ok to miss. He’d spend his next night as a married man in the large bath tub with you, petals in the water, your legs on either side of his thighs making the water slosh over the side. 

Every time he heard it announced- Mr. and Mrs. Snow. He would beam with joy. That politician smile, dazzling and smug, holding your arm as you walked to the podium of each district.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x capitol!reader #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x you smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #young!coriolanus snow #tbosbas fic #tbosbas #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fic #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas smut #tbosas fanfiction #president snow #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x fem!reader smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader smut #young!coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles

[thee-horny-thicky]

Worship

A/N: This season has made me simp for both Akaza and Douma, so here's a smutty headcanon thing.

Akaza and Douma cannot stand each other. They’re complete opposites in almost every way, especially when it comes to their treatment of women. Akaza believes them to be untouchable, while Douma thinks that the most delectable flesh comes from beautiful young women.

However, they do have a single thing in common. Both men are huge fans of worshipping their partner’s body, in their own unique ways.

You see, both demon’s ideology steams from their adoration for women. Douma, being an egotistic hedonist, indulges his love for them by devouring their bodies, in my ways than one.

He enjoys making his partner feels good, as it's another way for his ego to be fed. Not only does he like their reactions, but he loves the taste of pussy. Yours in particular. He's a munch, your honor.

Getting a taste of your slick is a daily requirement, and when he's particularly desperate, he'll fall to his knees and pleasure you where you stand.

Given his sadistic streak, he adores blending pain and pleasure together. He’ll tie you up to make sure you can’t run from him, and when he’s feeling particularly cruel, he may blindfold you, so you won’t be able to guess his next move. The one thing he’ll never do, though, is gag you. He adores hearing your noises too much for that. He likes seeing you be pathetic, so he’s a huge fan of edging. He’ll play with you until you’re on the brink of orgasm, then stop his motions until you’re begging for him to let you cum. And once he does, he switches from edging to overstimulation. He’s a demon with stamina a human can only dream of, and he’ll keep going until you’re sobbing for him to stop. Often, you two are at it until the sun is peaking over the horizon.

And if you make him upset, he has an array of paddles and whips to spank you with.

On the flip side, Akaza despises the idea of inflicting pain onto women, making them completely off-limits when it comes to killing. When it comes to sex, he’ll treat you like the most precious thing in the world and draw orgasm after orgasm from you. He has a hard time expressing his emotions, so sex is his way of showing his love for you.

The only way he’ll taste a woman is when he goes down on her, and like any good munch, he’ll be licking and sucking for a while. His favorite way to eat you is when you’re resting on your forearms, ass propped in the air, and pussy on display. It gives him a great view of your glistening folds and throbbing clit, and when your pussy starts to get too sensitive from coming too many times, he’ll allow his tongue to venture to your ass. As taboo as it is, it makes you feel good, which is all he cares about. He doesn’t look like Sukuna for nothing.

Only when you’re well-prepared will he fuck you. He’s inhumanly large, and if you aren’t well-stretched and very lubricated, you have no hope of taking him. He’ll refuse to fuck you if your pussy isn’t dripping with your juices because God forbid that he hurts you.  There’s a reason those pants are baggy.  

Not only is his dick inhumane in size, but in appearance, too. His shaft has bulging veins and ridges that offer you some delicious stimulation. Instead of doming off, his cockhead is more of a pointed tip, providing you with an interesting sensation as he pounds into you. His unique additions make him even harder to take. But though the stretch may be a little painful, once you’re adjusted, he’ll have you drooling and cock drunk in no time ♥️

A/N: I might write a proper threesome with them because I'm down BAD 😩

#headcanon #headcanons #demon slayer #akaza smut #demon slayer akaza #akaza x y/n #akaza x reader #upper moons #doma #douma #douma x reader #douma headcanons #kny douma #akaza headcanons #kny akaza #douma smut #demon slayer smut #kny smut #munches #smut #smutty headcanons

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!

After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.

Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.

Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you

He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.

He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.

Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.

Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.

'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'

'Eddie, I-'

'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.

'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.

'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.

'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'

Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.

'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.

Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.

'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'

Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.

'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.

Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.

'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'

Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.

When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.

'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.

'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'

Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.

'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.

Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'

'It was pathetic.'

'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'

Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'

Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #idiot4idiot #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[imaginesmai]

The orange peel theory - Azriel

I saw this post by @marvelsmylife and I thought I would give it a try! I've seen also lots of couples doing this on TikTok, so here's my take on how Azriel would do it. Hope you like it!

Plot: the spring court is beautiful, oranges are beautiful, but there's nothing more beautiful than your mate.

You loved the Spring court, you really did. Unlike Cassian, who couldn’t even get out of his room without sneezing the life out of his body, you spent your time there walking through the beautiful gardens. No matter how terrible Tamlin was, how much you despised the meetings between courts – you loved the Spring court.

All your friends and family were busy that morning, most of them in said meeting. Rhys and Feyre had been the first ones to arrive, Cassian and Azriel following close. You had woken up to an empty bed and cold sheets, your mate’s training not keeping up with your late nights reading. Still, Azriel had left you a short note and a beautiful flower.

You would have spent the morning with Nesta, but she was busy with Elain preparing the last details of her wedding with Lucien. Mor and Amren had chosen to stay in Velaris, and that left you alone in those beautiful gardens.

Time flew by each time you stopped to look at a flower or insect, as you let your body soak the warm sun through the trees. You wouldn’t have noticed the morning rolling away if it wasn’t for your stomach rumbling angrily at you. Deciding leaving the gardens was too much of an effort, you looked around for something to eat.

The meeting would end soon, but you would remain for two days more. There were enough matters to discuss that the high lords needed more than one meeting. As soon as Azriel was free, he would come looking for you – and you didn’t want to waste any time eating when you could explore the beautiful court.

So, when you spotted the orange tree, you made your decision.

It was big enough that you had to step on a bench to grab the closest orange. Once you did, you couldn’t resist grabbing some more. Big and colorful, your mouth watered just at the sight. You ended up on your tiptoes, barely keeping balance, gathering the oranges between your chest and arm.

One of them rolled out of your grasp, but before it fell, shadows gathered around it and brought it back to the group. You smiled instantly, stretching slightly to take the last orange. You felt your body gravitating forward as the tips of your fingers barely grazed it, and just before you could fall over, warm hands rounded your waist.

You were lifted the missing inch and stabilized at the same time, shadows keeping your legs upright. After taking the orange, you barely had time to look at it before you were lowered to the ground, back meeting his hard chest.

“Aren’t you a little shabby for a thief?” Azriel whispered against your ear, holding you close. “Risking your life for a bunch of oranges?”

“Oh, like you would have left me fall” you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge of squirming away when his lips brushed your cheek.

“I could have been away”

“Still”

You turned around, your arms full of oranges, and met his hazel eyes. Azriel could have been miles away, in a different country, that you were sure his shadows would have found a way of keeping you from hurt, just as they always did. You knew it, he knew it, and there was no real concern under his words, just playful banter.

Politics, territorial business and high lords were hard for him, and you could guess the outcome of the meeting in the darkness under his eyes. Still, when you looked at him, they shone a little brighter, his lips curling upwards.

His wings blocked the sun from behind, but some rays peeked through and made him look even more divine than he already was. Only a few hours away, and you already missed him.

His arms circled your waist and he lowered himself until he could kiss you softly, erasing the memories of the previous meeting. He tasted like home, like safety, and you were ready to drop your treats and wrap yourself around your mate.

Barely two seconds into the kiss, it was broken by the loud sound of your stomach reclaiming you back to your previous task. Azriel tore away with raised eyebrows, and burst into a loud laugh at your rosy cheeks.

“It’s past lunch time, don’t judge me” you looked down to your arms. “Want an orange?”

“I would love nothing more than a stolen orange”

You didn’t need words when you were with him, not as you sat on the bench you had climbed on and Azriel took the oranges from your grasp. His dark leathers were a rough contrast with your soft dress, the scars on his hands contrary to your careful touch. He didn’t flinch like he used to when you wrapped your fingers around his, only smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

There was no other place you would rather be but on that bench with him, the sun and shadows creating a beautiful landscape full of flowers and colors.

Azriel took the last orange from you and easily peeled its roughness away. His nails were chipped and broken, but he managed to get the whole thing off and hand it to you in small pieces. You gladly let him put the first one in your mouth, happy with not moving a muscle away from him.

“I can do that” you raised a brow as you bit on the juicy fruit.

“And I can do it for you” he bit on the next piece, eyes dropping to your mouth.

You tried grabbing the rest of the orange from him, but he easily brushed you away. It was common for him to do that type of stuff – peeling an orange for you so your hands wouldn’t get dirty, doing your hair in the morning when you were too tired, putting food on your plate before his own.

Those little things had built a comfortable relationship during your years together. You cleaned the blood off his leather when he came back from a mission and he brought you flowers each Sunday. He folded your clothes in a neat pile to you after your bath and you helped him tie his boots when he was sore from training.

The birds chirped around you as he kept peeling oranges, handing you some pieces and eating the rest of them. You watched as he carefully removed the white striped that you always complained about, checking each piece before giving it to you.

“How was the meeting?” you tried eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.

“It was” he shrugged, plucking the last part of the peel before dividing the orange. “Tamlin growled at everything and everyone. Kallias stepped out in the middle of it. Beron and Eris”

“What of Beron and Eris?”

“They were… them”

You knew without words that Beron and Eris had been the worst part of it. Maybe, if it wasn’t for them, Azriel would enjoy the politics of those meetings. He would stand in that room with his wings wide and head high. But they always managed to find something to bring him down, to make him feel less than them. And you would have gladly punched them into the knowing they wouldn’t even get close to the man Azriel was.

Azriel didn’t elaborate the answer for a while, both of you eating quietly. Once he had peeled the fourth orange and you had refused the last part, he started plucking the crumbs from under his nails.

You hoisted your legs up to his own, and made yourself comfortable on his lap. The reaction of having your body close was instant, his muscles going lax and his shoulders dropping.

“Rhys thinks Eris will stick to his part of, you know” Azriel talked softly, as if his shadows wouldn’t inform him of any presence within twenty feet. “But when he’s with his father, with that… smile and attitude, I wish he wouldn’t. I just wish it was different”

“I know” you agreed, pressing your stained lips to his cheeks. “It will be soon”

He turned to look at you and you smiled as brightly and convincingly as you could. Working with Eris was worse than any type of meeting. Having him coming to Velaris, where your home was, and letting him know where the most precious part of him lived was hard enough. But watching him play his enemy in a room full of threats and knowing he knew those things was on a different level.

It broke your heart each time he came back from those meetings, each time his vulnerability became apparent and you could do nothing about it.

Just smile, stay by his side, and stick to the promise of not letting anything happen to any of you.

You tried changing the subject for his sake and yours, anything to make him smile again like a few minutes before. Brushing the sticky stain on his cheek, you mentioned something Nesta had talked about before.

“There is a theory, you know” you started, trying to bite the smile off your lips so he would take you seriously. “About males, and oranges, and peeling them”

“Likely a theory of one of your books” he teased, and when you didn’t confirm neither deny it, he chuckled. “Or Nesta’s. I don’t know which one is worse”

“The theory says, that if your partner peels oranges for you without asking or saying, they love and care about you” you repeated what Nesta had told you a few days ago. “Getting their hands dirty and not minding about it because they love their partners more”

“More than an orange’s peel?” Azriel smiled widely now. “After almost fifty years of relationship, I hope you too love me more than that”

“You’re missing the point”

“It’s a stupid theory”

It was because he did way more than peel oranges for you. And you did way more than change the subject to stupid theories so he would take his mind off the worries. If Azriel had to peel a thousand oranges for you, he would do it. If he was allergic to them, he would still do it.

There was little Azriel wouldn’t do for you. The basics of protecting you, of giving you his love and affection, were already set at the begging of your relationship. But as he thought of the stupid orange peel, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for you.

And he knew that there wasn’t.

“Let me guess” he tugged your legs closer and looked into your eyes with a deep frown of concentration. “Nesta told you about it, just as he has told you about the rest of stupid theories you have put to test. And she has also told Elain and Feyre, and you all have put it to test”

“You’re missing Mor” you smiled, knowing he would make the whole story perfectly.

“Rhys passed, for sure. Lucien too, though he would probably be a little wary and ask about it before doing it, because Elain doesn’t eat too many oranges” he guessed correctly, making you scoff a laugh. “And Cassian asked Nesta to peel his orange”

You burst into a laugh because, just like he had said, had happened.

As you tilted your head back, a ray of sun hit the side of your face and Azriel’s heart started beating a little faster. He would never not find you beautiful, but sometimes, it would hit him just how beautiful you were. How lucky he was, how perfect his mate was. The cauldron had made him wait, had made him suffer, and all of it was worthy from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“I love you” he smiled, Eris and Beron long gone from his mind. “Even if you’re a shaggy thief”

“I love you too”

Azriel closed his eyes and let the sun bake his skin. Having you in his arms always felt good, no matter where you were. Spring court, Velaris, your home. He could be lying in a battlefield with you in his arms, safe and sound, and it would feel like heaven.

The meeting had been shitty, and the two days left in that court would be too. But if enduring it and peeling oranges for you would get him that kind of peace, he was ready for it to last forever.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

#azriel #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #imaginemai #imaginesmai #one shot #imagine #imagine mai #imagines mai #x reader #fic #acotar #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger one shot #shadowsinger imagine #acotar imagine #acotar one shot #the orange peel theory

[bratzforchris]

Girl Dad ۰ ۪۪۫۫ · 🩰

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Just some girl dad!Johnnie headcanons because I have BAD baby fever rn and that picture of him does not help

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

🩰 at first, johnnie isn't so sure about being a parent, but he quickly falls in love with baby girl guilbert, even before she's born

🩰 when you're still pregnant with her and she starts to kick, johnnie loves to lay his hand on your tummy and feel her kicks and talk to her "hi baby girl! it's your daddy. i hope you can hear me. mommy and i are so excited to meet you...even though i'm kind of fucking terrified."

"johnnie, don't swear around the baby."

🩰 johnnie almost cries when she does the "newborn scrunch" on his chest for the first time in her little lamb onesie

🩰 twinkle twinkle little star? absolutely not. when johnnie puts your daughter to bed, it's the lullaby version of i'm not okay (i promise)

🩰 speaking of which, your daughter ends up loving all of "daddy's music" and asks to hear it on the car ride to school, which johnnie happily obliges

🩰 baby girl guilbert is holding a guitar by the time she's 5, and just like daddy, she excels at it

🩰 johnnie prides himself on being present for everything his daughter does. whereas the other dads despise going to ballet class, he loves it and always snaps cute photos and videos of his daughter in her little tutu

🩰 always doing daddy's makeup, and johnnie never washes it off right away, even if he does have purple lipstick on his eyelids

🩰 coloring in daddy's tattoos! johnnie will lay eagle style on the bed and let his little girl go wild with the markers, just like her own personal coloring book. sometimes, the markers aren't as washable as they seem, and he ends up walking around with a pink bat on his neck for a bit

🩰 speaking of which, he gets your and her names tattooed right over his heart

🩰 "daddy, do i look like a pretty princess?" "sweetie, you're the prettiest princess. daddy's beautiful girl."

🩰 learning how to do hair, just for her. it isn't long before johnnie is a master of intricate braids and has a bin full of bows and sparkly clips

🩰 even when she gets to be a teenager, johnnie makes a conscious effort to still be involved in her life. he goes with her to all of her favorite artist's concerts and asks about her crushes without being too prying <3

🩰 on her 18th birthday, johnnie and his not-so-little baby girl get matching daddy daughter tattoos

tags ♡: @aemrsy

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #jake webber fanfic #jake webber imagine #jake webber #jake webber smut #jake and johnnie #tara yummy #the tinas #youtube #youtubers #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #fanfic #girl dad #headcanons

[freedomfireflies]

Teach Me*

Summary: Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

You.

Word Count: 5.4k

“...I’m sorry, you need to what?”

“I need…” Harry repeats, “...to eat you out.”

You blink at the man standing alarmingly still in the hallway outside of your door. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Do you smoke crack?”

He smirks at the familiar joke before he’s brushing past you and striding into your apartment. “All right, fine. I just thought I’d ask.”

“Ask what?” you huff as you shut the door and face him. “I still don’t understand what it is you want.”

“I want to eat you out,” he says yet again as your expression falls flat. “Look I need…the practice.”

“Practice…”

“Practice.” He nods before flopping down onto the sofa. “You remember Tina, right?”

“Tall, hot, and out of your league?” you recall as you walk over to him. “Yes, I remember.”

He fights a smile. “Yeah, well…she agreed to let me take her out and I just…I want to make sure I’m prepared.”

“...prepared.”

“Prepared.” His eyes follow you as you take a seat beside him. “Come on, you know I don’t have a lot of experience with that shit, and I want to make sure I’m…you know, at least capable of making her come. And I have no other way to get…better.”

“Oh, so, naturally I’m your second-best option,” you snort playfully as you pull your knees to your chest. “But how would eating me out help you make her come? Not all girls like the same stuff, you know. Lesson number one.”

“Because I need someone to help me make my technique a little…smoother, I guess. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t so I know,” he explains, without a hint of embarrassment, and truthfully, you’re a little impressed.

Harry has always been…bold, you would say. Assertive, confident, borderline egotistical. He’s never had a problem making friends or getting a girlfriend, so learning that his sexual experience didn’t expand as far as you thought it did was kind of a surprise.

You do admire him for wanting to be good for her. In fact, the thought is almost sweet, although you have no idea where he got the idea to ask you.

Sure, you’re his best friend, but…that’s kind of fucking…weird. Right? You guys don’t do that. You don’t even like to hug.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip and look for the deception within his expression. He could be messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time and you certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

But there’s something…earnest in the way he speaks. In the way his eyes hold onto yours as he awaits your response, hopeful and desperate.

“So…wait, hold on.” You clear your throat and straighten up. “You…you honestly want…to eat me out…just to see if I like it?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he agrees as one shoulder bobs up in a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve got a few ideas on what to do, I just…I need someone—I need you—to tell me if it feels good or not. So I can practice and make sure she’ll like it.”

Your teeth begin to absentmindedly knaw on the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you have no idea how to feel about this. The request is outrageous and weird and it goes way past the duties of friendship.

But you’ve known him forever and you trust him and honestly? You feel a little bad for the guy.

Sure, the best way for him to get the practice he needs would be with her, but you know him. He doesn’t like to admit he doesn’t know something and he absolutely despises feeling unprepared. 

He’s a perfectionist.

And you are a little flattered that he feels safe enough with you to showcase his inexperience and that thought alone begins to wash your reservations away.

“So…all I’d have to do is just…sit here? And tell you yes or no?” you clarify, and he nods.

“Yeah. I won’t make you come, don’t worry. I know that’s…going a little farther than we need,” he says. “I just…wanna play with you a little.”

You smirk. “Wouldn’t not making me come defeat the purpose?”

He exhales a laugh as he leans back. “I just want to make sure I can. Besides, doesn’t it open up a bunch of emotions and shit? It attaches you to the person? I mean, do you really wanna live with the knowledge that you came because of me?”

“...no,” you admit. “Okay, that’s fair. So…if I agree…you’re not gonna drag this out, right? Just to annoy me?”

He chuckles again. “Well, I wanna make sure I’m doing it right…but no, I won’t drag it past that. I’ll stop whenever you want.”

Your fingers pull at a loose strand on your jeans. You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? “And if I say yes…how would we…I mean, what would we do?”

He thinks about this for only a moment, suggesting that he already came with a plan. Typical. “I guess we go somewhere you feel comfortable…we start slow. You tell me what you’re okay with, what you’re not okay with…and then I’ll just…get started.”

You look at him. Really look at him. He’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed considering the line he’s suggesting you both cross. A line you can never uncross.

And as you stare at those familiar features you’ve known for years…you feel your body exhale a deep breath. You’re doubtful, sure…but he’s always been rather exceptional at providing you comfort, just through a look alone.

Exactly like he is now.

His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he bumps his knuckles against your knee teasingly. “We don’t have to, Bee. I just…thought I’d ask.”

You roll your lips into your mouth as you hesitate, the familiar nickname calming you ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t…I’m not saying no, I just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“I know,” he agrees with a nod. “Look, just…forget I said anything. I’ll Google it, it’s fine. Let’s just watch Schitt’s Creek or something, yeah?”

With that, he turns toward the TV, grabs the remote, and begins to flip through the channels, leaving the conversation behind.

But you aren’t as quick to let the idea go. After all, he planted the seed, and now you’re starting to wonder. You’re starting to…accept.

Maybe things will be weird. And maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you used to be. But at least you’ll have helped him…? And that’s…something that friends do.

…right?

“I have never heard someone say so many wrong things…one after the other…consecutively…in a row,” David says to your right as Harry smiles and glances over to see if you’re listening.

But you’re not.

At least, not to David.

“Okay,” you murmur, quiet enough that it becomes lost beneath the next line on the show.

Harry, confused, raises a brow and begins to lower the volume. “Sorry, what?”

“Okay,” you repeat, a little more confidently than you had before. “Okay, I agree to your proposal. Just this once.”

He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nod. “What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m charitable. And cool, and a really good friend. So…don’t forget that the next time I ask you to buy the popcorn at the movie.”

His eyes roll but he laughs as he tosses the remote aside. “All right, that’s fair. Deal.”

You both go quiet.

Funny…for some reason, you thought agreeing would be all there was to it.

His eyes soften as he looks you over. “So…you’re in charge, okay? You just…tell me where you wanna go, what you’re comfortable with…whatever you want, yeah?”

You nod faintly before glancing toward your room. “Um…I guess we can do it on the bed. There’s probably more room, so it would be a little easier…I guess.”

He nods, too, before slowly moving for the edge of the couch. But he doesn’t stand until you do, eyeing you closely as if gauging your reaction.

You aren’t sure why you feel so…timid. You’re not exactly nervous, maybe just…apprehensive. But, it’s Harry, and he will always be the boy that got a blueberry stuck up his nose and snorted purple snot to you.

And it can’t get more embarrassing than that. 

He follows you into the bedroom. The same bedroom he’s seen a million times, although now, it’s like a completely different space.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you take a seat on the corner of the mattress, head tilting back as you look up at him expectantly. “Uh…now what?”

“You tell me,” he says softly, hands finding refuge in his pockets. “Where do you wanna be? Against the pillows? Might be more comfortable.”

You glance over your shoulder at the headboard. “Yeah, I guess that’s…a good idea.”

He smiles again, stepping back to allow you the room to crawl back. 

Once you’re in position and settled, he takes your spot on the edge of the bed. “Still good?”

You nod, arms resting atop your stomach, almost as if to hide yourself. “Yup.”

“Do you wanna pick a safeword?”

Your brows raise. “I mean…I think ‘stop’ will do just fine.”

He snorts his amusement. “Fair.”

Again, you both grow quiet, and you wish you could find your nerve. In the many years you two have known each other, not once have you ever been this shy. Or quiet. In fact, you don’t believe there’s ever been a second of silence between you, and you have no idea what to do with it.

He straightens up, taking the reins when he notices you don’t plan to. “Do you have your phone?”

Confused, you reach into your pocket and wiggle the cell phone free.

He nods. “Okay, I want you to pull up your favorite porn.”

Your lips part as you blink. “...I’m sorry, what now?”

"Well, I’m willing to bet you’re not exactly turned on right now, right?” he explains, nodding his chin at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “And I’m just thinking that might be a little harder to work with. For both of us.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. You’re about as dry as the Sahara desert, so you admit defeat and swipe up on your screen.

Now, while you and him have both exchanged some of your favorite videos before, pulling up one now…in front of him…feels like a whole new ballgame.

You quickly readjust the volume before looking for the ones you know normally do the trick, refusing to sneak a glance at the man now scooting a bit closer to you. 

But you do hear him smile. “Find it?”

Your eyes land on the familiar thumbnail you’ve seen a hundred times before as you whisper, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he hums, hands coming to rest near your outstretched legs. “Can I take your jeans off? Just your jeans.”

You peek out from around the screen of your phone, catching the curious but hopeful look on his face. “...sure.”

He nods his understanding before shifting closer so he can reach for your zipper to guide it down.

You debate watching him but choose instead to click play on the video and force your attention elsewhere. Maybe this will go smoother if you just…don’t look at him. 

Ever.

You feel the air hit your legs as his fingers curl around the fabric at your hips to pull it down. He’s deliberate, making sure he doesn’t accidentally graze something he’s not supposed to (ironically enough), but you appreciate the gesture. 

He gently tugs the material down to your ankles before effortlessly tossing it aside, and you feel yourself swallow.

This isn’t your first time, so you thought you’d know what to expect. But you don’t know what to expect from him. He seems to have a plan (thank God), and you catch the way he eyes your underwear before he glances up at you.

“Ready?” he murmurs, the cadence of his voice rather reassuring. “I’ll just play with you a bit for now, yeah?”

Again, you swallow thickly, forcing the nerves aside. “Yeah, go.”

And from that point on, you decide to proceed with a more clinical mindset. This is practice, exactly like he said. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you, and once it’s over, you doubt you’ll ever mention it again.

It’s just practice.

A cunt is a cunt, a tongue is a tongue, a hand is a hand. Doesn’t matter who they belong to. Pleasure is pleasure, and that’s all there is to it.

You return your attention to your phone as the bed dips, signaling that he’s getting himself into position. You wonder what he means when he says he wants to play with you, and you also wonder if he’ll actually be any good.

But before you can worry that you’ll have to tell him that he’s terrible…he touches you.

You feel his palm, gently smoothing up your right leg, slowly but with purpose. Your breath hitches as you blink at the images flashing across the screen in front of you. You have no idea if you’ll be able to get out of your own head long enough to feel turned on, but you don’t worry about it quite yet.

Then…you feel his thumb.

Your entire body goes still as the pad of his finger brushes down the front of your underwear, right over your clit. There’s just enough pressure to capture your attention but not so much that it feels uncomfortable.

Your chest deflates with a deep breath as you begin to move your focus from the porn to him.

He does it again, a little harder this time around. It’s teasing, almost. Exactly like he said it would be. He’s simply playing with your body and seeing how it reacts. And every time you twitch or your legs begin to tense, you hear him smile, as if making a mental note of it.

For a few minutes, this is all he does. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric in slow but teasing patterns, pressing and sometimes circling as you feel an ache begin to form.

The sounds coming from your phone are successful in urging your body to bend to such salacious intentions. You can feel your muscles unwind as your mind begins to release those doubtful premonitions.

With a flutter of your lashes, you move your phone to the side so you can get a glimpse of the boy between your legs.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that or he pretends not to. And for a moment, you aren’t sure what to make of the sight before you. Harry, your best friend, in a staring contest with your cunt and you want to be put off…but you’re not. 

“How’s that?” he murmurs after a moment, his other hand softly stroking the skin of your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart.

Your voice betrays you as you breathe, “Good.”

He looks up. Smiles. “Noted.”

He does it some more, thumbing over your clit before pressing into it and guiding it in a circle. You squirm each time, the faintest of whimpers getting stuck in the back of your throat. 

He seems proud, and you almost want to be annoyed, but you just don’t have the mental capacity to be in this moment.

Maybe when it’s over.

And then, he does something you hadn’t expected.

He dips down…and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. Not too close but not too far, and as he does, his eyes find yours.

Shit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you whisper quickly, hips subtly bucking up. “I’m…I think I’m good now.”

His brow raises as he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to whine. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I mean, if you are.”

“I am,” he says, glancing back down at your waist. “Yeah, I am.”

So you nod, and anxiously await his next move.

He reaches again for your body, and you want to sigh with relief as he slips his fingers under the band of your underwear to peel it down. 

The cool air is rather chilling and it’s then that you’re made aware of the mess already forming between your thighs. You knew you’d begun to enjoy yourself but you’re surprised by just how much. 

Whether that was because of him or because of the video…you don’t exactly know.

Once the lace has been flicked to the side, he readjusts onto his knees and formulates a plan.

He makes you wait. Watch. Watch as he once again takes your legs in his hands to guide them apart and settle between them.

Watch as he outstretches his palm so he can run it along your hip before moving lower.

Watch as he takes his thumb and brings it back to your clit which is now exposed to his skin.

And the contact is sinful. You’re worked up enough that the immediate connection makes your head drop back, and while you’d like to be embarrassed…you just don’t care.

He drags it down. Down. Presses, rubs, and dips into the wetness that waits for him.

He’s concentrated, and the look on his face is rather adorable. He’s learning. Studying. Observing each and every reaction you offer him as he continues to tease you.

Once in a while, he’ll venture a glance up, perhaps for approval, and you’ll nod quickly. Then, he’ll return to the task at hand as he looks for new ways to make you gasp.

He slides the tip of his finger in without warning and when you whimper, he stills and raises his brow.

You can tell he was aiming for the element of surprise, choosing not to warn you in order to receive this very response, but he’s not sure if that was a sound of approval or unease, so you rush to clarify.

“No, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s fine, it’s good.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, it’s good. Go.”

Encouraged, he pushes in. He’s still wary of your enjoyment but he seems to focus more on the movement of his hand than your expressions. And that’s all right with you. You’re happy to simply sit and…judge. Which is what he’s asked you to do, and you plan to uphold your end of the deal.

He stops when he’s reached his knuckle, finger curling slightly before he’s gently pulling back. He repeats the action a time or two more and the fullness that accompanies the stretch is quite enjoyable.

Your eyes move to the ceiling as you fight the urge to watch him. You’re not that comfortable yet and perhaps watching him would ruin the fun. So, for now, you stare at the white paint above you as he begins to pump his hand a bit faster.

When he adds a second finger, you gasp, and he uses this as leverage to expand his search.

And you know exactly what he’s looking for, the crease between his brows indicative of his captivation.

But just when you’re getting ready to offer some help, he drives in and curls up until the tips of his fingers brush against that particular point of ecstasy.

You inhale a sharp breath and writhe away, faintly panting, “Shit…that.”

Intrigued, he perks up, although he doesn’t relax his pace. “That?”

He does it again and your eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…mhm.”

A smile dances across his lips as he scoots a little closer to watch his own hand as he repeats the action.

You begin to slump down the mattress, limbs turning to jello as he guides your body up toward that familiar ledge, and you hear him hum his approval.

“Good,” he murmurs, you assume in an attempt to soothe you. “Very good, m’proud of you. Seem to be doing really well.”

You stumble over a scoff. “Yeah, well…so are you.”

The grin grows. “Still doing okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper when his thumb ghosts over your clit. “Yeah, I…fuck. I’m…is this all you’re gonna do…then? I thought…I thought you wanted…to…with…the other…”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is coherent but he seems to understand. “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if you were ready.”

“I am,” you correct quickly. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. You can…you’re good. Just do it.”

He dips his head down but doesn’t quite connect as he continues to watch you carefully. “Bee?”

“...wha—shit—what?”

“Thank you.”

Your eyes roll playfully, although perhaps that’s just from the pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m a fucking saint. Just…fucking do it, okay?”

So…he does.

Those lips you used to stare at move down to your clit and he brushes his mouth over your body for just a moment before you see his tongue.

He takes a moment to decide exactly what he wants to do before he’s pressing that tongue into you and dragging it up from his hand.

You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take much more for you to arch off the bed in search of that feeling. He’s hardly done anything but your head is rolling back across the pillow as your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you.

He nips at you gently, continuing to pump your arousal in and out as it coats his hand, and your mind instantly falls completely blank.

The sounds…god, the sounds. The sound of you, the sound of him, the sound of your body falling apart beneath him.

He’s good. He’s very good, and you almost wonder if he was lying about his inexperience. There’s no way he learned this from porn…at least, you can’t see how. But, he is a perfectionist. Maybe it just comes naturally to him.

“Awfully quiet up there,” you hear him say, and the vibration of the deep tone of voice sparks a chill down your spine. “That bad?”

No! you want to scream but you simply shake your head. “It’s…it’s good. You’re…this is great. This is all…you know…standard…good…stuff.”

When he smiles, your cheeks grow hot. “Guess I have a good teacher.”

“Please,” you huff, pressing your palm to your forehead. “You always—god, always know what you’re doing. I had nothing to do with it.”

He shrugs as his eyes flick across the mess in front of him. “Had more to do with it than you think.”

He dives back in, licking a stripe up before driving his fingers in further. And there’s so much happening. So much that it makes you crazy. There’s him, and there’s you, and there’s that reminder of need that continues to grow. You can’t focus in on any one thing, and honestly...you’re okay with that. 

When he sucks you into his mouth, you have to fight the urge to grab onto him, twisting the duvet around your knuckles as you reel. 

“Don’t,” he mumbles, and you work to figure out what he’s referring to. Did you do something wrong? “Don’t grab the blanket. Grab me.”

You blink down at him. “I’m…no, it’s fine. I was just—”

“Bee, I’m not asking,” he interrupts, rather resolutely. “You wanna do it, so do it. Promise, I don’t mind.”

You certainly aren’t a stranger to this more…authoritative side of him. Although now, you might even…like it? At least, in this context.

“Come on,” he repeats, pulling back only to shoot you a stern look. “She will. And it’ll show me what you like. Don’t be a pussy, just do it. You won’t hurt me.”

And you almost want to fight him, but he’s right, and you can’t argue that. 

So, the moment he returns to his focused work, you reach for those chocolate brown curls and give them a nice tug.

He makes a noise of approval that nearly kills you, lapping at your folds like he’s depraved and you’re his only remedy.

Tina is gonna love it.

He finds a certain rhythm that you respond to well and zeros in. His cheeks hollow every time he sucks on you only to quickly pop off as he presses his tongue beside his fingers. 

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he seems to like it, his other hand grasping onto your thigh so hard you imagine it’ll bruise.

And for just a moment, you actually don’t mind. You concede to the satisfaction he’s offering and you indulge in it. You find gratification in the fact that you accepted and you even decide that maybe…this was a good idea.

“Are you close?” he asks once your whimpers scale up an octave.

You nod quickly. “Yes…yeah, I’m…yeah.”

“Good,” he muses proudly before he’s suddenly removing his hand from your body and pulling away.

You nearly disappear through the mattress as you choke on a dejected whine and look down at him. “What…what happened?”

He breathes out a laugh as he settles onto his knees. “Nothing, I’m just keeping my word.”

His word.

Right.

“You…oh,” you whisper, fighting your disappointment. “Yeah. Well…that was…you did good. That was all…you know, very well done. She’ll like it, you’ll be fine.”

He seems pleased with your approval before his eyes begin to narrow in thought. He watches you haphazardly reach for a throw blanket to cover yourself, but just as you’re getting ready to toss it over your legs, he snatches onto your wrist.

You both still as he studies you. “Bee?”

“...what?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you want to ask me…then ask me.”

You blink. “What…what do you mean?”

With his hold still on your arm, he leans closer. “Bee…we agreed, yeah? M’trying to be a good student, but I can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches the closer he gets. “Har, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do you wanna come?”

Well…shit. “I…” You begin to shift nervously under his pointed stare. “I was just…”

His expression softens although there’s a hint of smugness swimming behind his smile. “Do you want me…to make you come?” he clarifies as your stomach twists into a knot.

Feigning exasperation, you huff a stray hair from your eye. “Well, what do you think? Obviously nobody likes being edged.”

He’s amused as he begins to lower back down, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Then what do you need to do?”

You huff again, shooting a quick glare his way as you watch him drop his gaze to your sensitive cunt. “Harry…come on.”

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. “Nope, that’s not it.”

You open your mouth, a quippy remark locked and loaded, but right before you can use it…he puckers his lips and blows on your clit.

Your muscles recoil and your throat seems to close up as you pull against his hold. “You fucking asshole, you did that on purpose.”

“Obviously.” He tosses you a wink. “You wanna try again?”

No, I wanna kill you, you think but don’t say. “Harry…please.”

You briefly notice the way his eyelashes flutter at the sound of his name but he doesn’t comment on it. “Please what?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, Bee, you can do it.”

“I just…I…this isn’t…”

“Almost there, that’s it. Be a good girl and ask me.”

Oh, that sadistic fucker. You’d berate him for such a nickname if it didn’t turn you on so goddamn much, especially with the state you're in. You might even wanna hear it again and truth be told, the thought blows your mind.

You swallow a shaky breath. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“...please make me come.”

A wide smile bursts across his face. “Attagirl.”

And with that…he continues.

You’re thrust back up the precipice of pleasure as he slips three fingers into your aching, dripping cunt. 

And it’s purposeful and practiced and he’s such a liar because he knows exactly what he’s doing, at least to you, and you want to smack him.

But you also want to grab onto his hair and his arm and every inch of his body and never let go because he’s so good for making you feel this way. The best friend you could ever have and why on Earth didn’t you guys try this earlier?

Each curl, each twist, each push in. You feel so full and he feels so good and it’s only his hand and then suddenly…it’s his mouth, too.

And the moment he presses his tongue against you, you lose it. You roll your hips against his face, and lift your back from the bed, and drop your mouth open as a desperate moan falls free.

And it goes, and goes, and goes. Stronger and longer than any other one you’ve ever had and this time, you think it really does kill you.

But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’ve begun to settle. He pushes against the sensitive nerves until tears spring to your eyes. He teases and he tortures and he demands a second orgasm out of you before you can even fight it.

This time, he grabs onto your hips, one hand on either side, to lift you and place you where he wants.

And he tastes you. Savors you on his tongue as if this is for his enjoyment, not yours.

And you look down at him, and you see the flush in his cheeks, and the messy way his hair falls into his eyes, and the veins in his arms as he holds you.

And you lose it. Completely and utterly and permanently.

You disappear into your own head for a moment until his ministrations relax and he slowly—very slowly—begins to let go.

As you fight to catch your breath, you watch him run his thumb across his lip. He’s going to wipe you away, you imagine, but then, to your surprise, he sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he notices you watching, he raises a brow. “Want some?”

And you can only lay there and stare at him, dumbfounded and blissed-out

He laughs to himself when he notices the spacey expression on your face, moving to hover over your body until he’s only inches away. “Can I try something else?”

“What?” you ask breathlessly.

He smiles. “Kissing you.”

Your eyes widen. “...why?”

He shrugs. “I mean, it’s only polite after something like that, no? Like…a parting gift.”

Your eyes narrow. “How sweet. No, really, that was so romantic. Don’t stop, give me another compliment—”

He presses his lips to yours. And it’s rushed and it’s messy and it’s the perfect parting gift.

It’s him.

And you don’t mind that.

You both grin when he pulls back, chuckling to yourselves as he flops over onto the bed beside you.

He helps you toss the blanket over your legs before he’s turning onto his side, head in his hand as he studies you. “All right, Teach. What do you say?”

You pretend to think. “Well…your dirty talk could use some work.”

He smirks. “Okay.”

“And your incessant need to make me spell it out lost you a few points.”

“Sure, sure.”

“But, overall…that was really good,” you admit, and he beams. “Like…better than I expected, and I kind of think you lied about not knowing what to do.”

He shakes his head playfully as he glances off into your room. “Good to know you had so much faith in me.”

“Oh, I didn’t. Not even a little.”

He snorts. “Well, I meant what I said. I only knew what to do because of you.”

“Yeah right. I didn’t tell you any of that.”

“You did,” he argues, turning his attention back to you. “Not with words, no. But with the sounds you made. The way your breath would catch or the way you’d squirm. Or when your nose would crinkle up ’cause you were trying really hard not to like it.”

Shit…had he noticed that? “I…okay, in my defense…I like almost anything. And I wanted to make you work for it.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah.”

He rolls over onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. “All right, well…I still appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

“Fuck off,” he groans. “I mean it, Bee. I was honestly…okay, don’t fucking laugh, but…I was kind of nervous about it. About whether or not she’d like it. Whether or not you’d like it, and…I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad it was you because…you know. It’s you. And I always feel better around you.”

You work to restrain your smile as you look up at the fan spinning above you. “I feel better around you, too.”

He hums.

“Especially after that. I mean…that was good,” you add and he shakes his head again. “She’s gonna love it.”

He turns to you. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.” You meet his eye. “Really, Har, you have nothing to worry about. She’ll show you what she likes just like I did. You know what to do, you just have to listen. And then…you can call me and tell me all about it.”

“Deal,” he agrees eagerly, sticking his pinky between you.

You take it and squeeze. “And I already know what next week's lesson is gonna be.”

Amused, he says, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

You grin.

“How To Eat Ass 101.”

Next part:

~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist (with all the other parts plus extras!)

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #best friend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #smut #oneshot #imagine #harry styles concept #harry and bee

[magewritesstories]

[ ᴊᴇꜱꜱ ᴍᴀʀɪᴀɴᴏ ] ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

summary: Luke doesn’t understand where Jess’s sudden motivation to do well in school is coming from TW: none note: i love him sm, but it’s a pretty short fic

“I’m leaving!”

Luke looked up, astonished at the sight that greeted him. Jess stood in the doorway of the diner, with a book bag slung across his shoulder, headed towards the library.

This had been happening for about two weeks now. Every Wednesday at 15:45 on the dot his nephew— his school despising nephew— had been leaving to go to the Stars Hollow Library

The older brunet had made sure that he was actually going to the library and not off to Walmart to pick up some extra shifts.

Jess made his way across the townsquare towards the local library. Everyone who knew the boy in the slightest would know he had no business there— his habit of annotating books meant he couldn’t borrow any, and he despised the quiet— so why was Jess Mariano going to the Stars Hollow Library?

The answer was very simple; Jess had a crush.

You were always there. Sitting in a faraway corner, of the library, working on homework or reading for an assignment. 

A few weeks ago he’d gathered the courage to walk up to you when you were reading Wuthering Heights. He was surprised when you remembered him from your english and biology classes (mostly because he was rarely there.)

You were sitting in your usual spot when Jess arrived. It was a small wooden desk, with enough place for two people. The edges of the table were worn, just like the fabric of the pillows on the chairs. There was small yellow-light over the table that blinked every now and then.

The black-haired boy made his way over to the table, letting his bag fall onto the floor with a loud thump. 

The sudden sound made you look up from your math assignment, “Oh, Jess, hey,” You gave him a bright smile, “Didn’t think you were gonna make it today.”

“Oh please, I am nothing if not consistent,” He quipped as he tried to ignore the feeling of his heart hammering against his chest.

You rolled your eyes, “They only thing you’re consistent in is bailing, Mariano.” Jess shrugged, “Doesn’t really matter what it’s in, I am consistent.”

“I heard you missed the math quiz yesterday?” You asked, turning back to your homework, “And I missed you in english.”

The teen shrugged, grabbing his books, “I had some stuff to do.” You raised an eyebrow, “Stuff?”

“Yeah, stuff.”

“Well, you missed Ms Bledel handing out our assignment,” You continued. Another thing Jess loved about being around; you didn’t push too hard on things that weren’t your business.

You handed him a copy of your notes, “It’s a two person assignment, and since you weren’t there I made sure we were paired up— so you better not choose next week thursday to be consistent.”

Jess laughed, taking the papers, “I make no promises.”

It was a busy day in the diner when you stormed in. Jess was refilling Rory’s cup of coffee, when the bell rang and you shouted his name.

He looked up in surprise, along with Luke and Rory. “I got an A!” You shouted, running over to him. The black-haired boy wrapped his arms around you in surprise when you jumped towards him, “Thank you!”

You were referring to the fact that he’d helped you with the english assignment and you’d gotten an A for it— which was practically unachievable since Ms Bledel never gave A’s.

Jess rolled his eyes, hoping that the tinge of red on his cheeks wasn’t obvious, “It’s not a big deal,” He shrugged as you pulled away.

“It’s a huge deal,” You countered, “She never gives out A’s, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an A for english in my life.”

Rory, who was watching the scene amusedly, nodded along, “Yeah, even I haven’t gotten an A in her class before.”

Having heard the commotion Luke walked over to the three teens, “I heard someone got an A?” You nodded, proudly holding up your’s and Jess’s copy of the assignment— bit with a red A on them.

“Oh this is so going on the fridge,” Luke smirked, which made the black-haired boy groan, “Please don’t...”

You giggled slightly at the scene in front of you, before realising you had other places to be. “I have to go,” You said, “But I’ll see you at the library tomorrow?”

That’s when it clicked in Luke’s head; the sudden motivation to do well in school had nothing to do with his threats of kicking Jess out if he failed, it was simple puppy love.

The brunet watched in amusement as his nephew’s eyes followed you all the way to the end of the street.

You had become Jess’s motivation.

word count → 782 words links → gilmore girls masterlist

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fanfic #jess mariano headcanons #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls fanfic

[minimallyminnie]

Hi! Sorry I haven’t been writing lately! Hopes this makes up for it!

Gn reader, Nightbringer timeframe so you are their attendant, uhhh a bit dark with some of them (Levi, Satan, Twins)

How you show the brothers you care about them even if they don’t remember you.

Lucifer

Though he stays in his room all the time, he does get up to do his daily things outside.

That being said, those days were rare when you could only hear the same album and small hics coming from his room

You remember the album from your time frame, he told you once

You were drinking tea with him and he told you how it was Lilith’s favorite album to play when she was happy

It hurt to see him not go to the table and eat.

So once Beel is out of sight in the kitchen, you go inside, make a plate of dinner and fill up a cup of hot tea for him

You knock twice on the door and set the food down next to the door, covered with foil and sticky note that says

“Lucifer, you should eat more. -[MC]”

You know he’s there when you come back to sweep the hallways and see an empty plate with a cup on top.

You only take the dishes in silent content and wash them in the kitchen.

Happy knowing that Lucifer at least ate.

Lucifer, in his room is working diligently on paperwork. He doesn’t need an…attendant to take care of him.

He’s capable damn it!

He can’t say he’s not capable. His pride doesn’t allow him. To be weak. To ask for help. To apologize.

His pride…has hurt his brothers. Has hurt them so many times. It’s best if he just stays inside and not hurt anyone.

He can’t let them suffer from his problems anymore, that’s how they ended up here.

He hears footsteps outside and is alert instantly, wondering if his brothers need something or if they’re asking for him to eat dinner with them or if they’re complaining about what so ever

But when he hears a gentle clink on the floor outside his room and the footsteps retreating, he knows that it’s you.

Lucifer waits for the footsteps to no longer be heard before he cracks open the door and sees a plate and a glass. He picks them up and locks the door again.

He sees the small sticky note on it and somehow in his cold and closed off heart, his heart warms at the note

He brushes it off before eating and drinking the entire thing, leaving it outside the door where it was previously in a pristine manner.

Now even if you are just an attendant, he won’t try to make your job harder than it is.

Somehow a part of him calls out to him that he just cares about you.

Mammon

His obsession with greed and Grimm has turned up to the max when he got turned into a demon

That being said, since he’s so busy trying to take care of his brothers who are falling apart day by day, he forgets to take a break

Anytime that you tell him, he’ll laugh it off and asks if you think he’s that weak

…you know he’s not weak.

The pain from losing his baby sister, how his brothers are crumbling, Lucifer not coming out of his room, this new home, his new body and wings, his virtue turning to a sin.

A sin that’s going to eventually cause everyone he loves to hate him. He despises his sin of Greed. It’s twisted, it’s malicious, it’s…awful.

Mammon can’t take it anymore but he still endures it for his family.

Just like in your time where he’s being berated left and right. You fall for him all over again.

One day, Mammon forgets to leave his door locked leaving you to come in and sneakily turn off his alarm clock before going back to Cocytus Hall

You do all his tasks for the morning once you get the to the HoL, telling the brothers that he’s just tired today (and he is, not that you’re lying)

When he wakes up and panics, you manage to calm him down explaining how he needed rest and that you’re taking a break. He calms down but then he sees you with a tray of cold tea and…two bowls of spicy ramen?

Hell Soy Sauce Flavored Cup Ramen??

He’s never heard of that before, sorta scary…but you said it was a treat from yourself

He picks up his chopsticks and takes a bite.

It does taste spicy and he chugs the tea while you’re laughing at his expression

But he looks at your smiling face and he thinks about how warm he feels inside, not knowing if it’s the ramen or you

He takes another bite and starts talking with you about how you knew about these noodles

“A close friend of mine shared some with me a few times.” He’s a bit jealous of this “close friend” but he still eats the ramen

Huh. He feels a lot better today than the past few months he’s been in the Devildom….

He thinks he finally has a favorite food now.

Leviathan

When he landed in the Devildom, he didn’t know why he was even there anymore

He was made for war and bloodshed against demons

Now he’s become what he sworn to kill

What…what’s out there for him anymore?

The days where he wakes up and gets out of bed feeling awful as can be are the hardest.

He has to show everyone how awful he feels and looks today.

He hates the stares he gets from his brother when they think he’s not looking for looking like he just rolled out of bed.

He hates his wings, his tail, his personality, how awkward he is, he wants his long and flowing robes back that made him confident like Lucifer was

He knows his younger brothers are suffering even more than him. He knows how much Satan feels like he doesn’t belong in their family. If he were just braver or if Satan was just mellower, he would take care of him like how Mammon did for him. But he’s a coward. He’s jealous of how well Mammon can handle things, how he can adjust so damn fast.

He hates himself

On one of the days you’re adjusting the pictures around the HoL after one of Satan and Belphegor’s fights, you hear a small voice from Levi’s room

Going closer, you hear me him say how he wanted to try this new game out that’s hot on the market but he can’t get the time to. When you peek in to see who’s he talking to, there’s a sheep plushie that you gave to the brothers to share and talk to.

New game….hmm you had extra Grimm right? Mammon didn’t steal any this week either!

You zap your phone out and quickly order the game. It didn’t make a huge dent in your account considering the amount of jobs you’ve taken during the free time you have

The next day, you knock on Levi’s door with an excuse to ask him for help on one of the Ruri Chan levels

When he opens the door, he sees a wrapped item in your hand which you promptly give him

“Consider it a gift for not leaving your tiny figurine accessories around the floor.” And then you walked away

Levi shuts his door and opens the gift nervously

He gapes at the game, how did you know he wanted this game?! Did you hear him??!

Levi will have to thank you tomorrow after he finishes the first part of the game first!

He wonders if he has to go to the doctor later though since his stomach is doing flips left and right…

Satan

It does take a while for Satan to properly put his comfort and trust in you

But it does somehow happen.

He’s lashing out at everyone and everything left and right

But he doesn’t know why it makes him angry.

He hates the looks on his brothers the people he lives with faces

Their faces…it scares him but his own pride refuses to acknowledge the fear

But when he sees your face…you never seem scared or upset at him.

Always…cheerful and somehow nostalgic even though you never met him before Mammon managed to catch you

He tries to push you away, tries to make his pain and internalizes that he’s a monster. A mistake that was only created by accident.

But.

You never stray away.

Shouldn’t an attendant rationalize their situation?!

Even if he lives in the same house, he could kill you more than any of the others!

But anytime he’s actually in his room, you’re always knocking.

You’re patient with him.

You’ve always been patient with him unless he actually does something messed up.

You don’t see him as a monster or Lucifer’s little copy. You see him as him.

His favorite thing of the day when you’re working is just going in his room during your breaks (which he memorized) and waiting for you

You knock and he opens the door. You always wait for him.

“Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

He always nods and lets you in

You end up talking about mundane things, you seem to know or find out things he might actually like!

You’re really smart and scary too but he won’t say that of course

He likes that you understand him. He’s not all that alone in this hellhole.

He just likes talking to you without being judged or interrupted. You don’t do those, you just listen to him.

And really, that’s the most amazing thing that someone can do for him.

…No you’re really the most amazing person that’s done this for him.

Asmodeus

Oh as if you aren’t his gift already!

Jokes aside, he is wary of you

You just dropped in and now you’re their attendant?!

Unbelievable! But of course he’s not going to say that in front of Lucifer and Diavolo!

Good heavens devildom, that would be his death wish!

He frequently looks up at the heavy clouds over the Devildom

He knows the sun never rises but, he wishes just one more time he’d be able to see the perfect sunrise and sunset before he got thrown here

Here where he looks like a freak.

Where he was praised and celebrated for his beautiful pearly white wings and his gorgeous robes. Where he had a damned amazing smile that lit up a room. Where is now gone. Permanently

He cries every-time he looks past a mirror or a reflection of himself

He has ugly ugly pointed horns that twist, hearts that look like they dripped down on his arm, and four short wings that don’t even look have as gorgeous as his old ones did.

He’s almost broken every mirror in the house he’s come by when he has thoughts like these. Mammon asked you while Asmo was crying one day to just make anything that looked remotely shiny, matte. Desperate to stop his younger brother’s tears.

(And you did. He figured out it was you and Mammon later and thanked both of by taking you two out for drinks. He starts to get used to one mirror at a time.)

He hates how his sin causes him to lust after everyone. He hates it. He can’t bear the pain in his heart when he meets someone who just wants to be friendly and he immediately thinks about how to bed them.

He just wants normal thoughts for once. Not all the lust addled thoughts that never quiet down.

He feels like an…item. Used for one night stands when he actually succeeds in bedding them and never again. Regret following him every time. Spiraling in his bed all alone.

Well, until you came.

He pounces on you with words filled with sweet and honey like words

But you know him.

You gently let him down each time but you let him do it to you everyday

Every day is another compliment, pick up line, or flirting act. He actually managed to stop going to parties after shooting all his lust willpower against you!

Did you plan this?! Oh sweetie~♡!He should’ve known! ♡

He’s…not upset though. He’s happy. No more being an item for demons or magic users anymore…he can…use his lines on you.

You…you don’t shame him or get embarrassed of them

(not even when they’re ultra lusty! Are you used to it already…? Did you hear them from someone somehow?!)

You don’t scorn him or look at him in disgust.

No. You don’t do any of those things even though he told you of the horrible things he’s done and how much he misses his appearance in the Celestial Realm.

Instead, you always surprise him and you smile and laugh at his daily routine with you. Even playing along with his antics sometimes.

“Haha! U + I = 69? Well I must be 59 since you’re a 10!”

And you smile.

A beautiful soul and creature called him a 10/10.

You called him beautiful.

When you walk away to subdue the brothers from arguing again, his eyes glaze over with tears.

His brothers had told him yes, and they mean a lot. But for someone who didn’t know him like his brothers and still saw beauty in a twisted angel like him…

His lust for you turned into something else.

Beelzebub

Everyday. Every single day. He dreams of the same thing that he doesn’t think it’s a nightmare anymore.

He sees Lilith die in Belphie’s arms, bleeding and beaten.

He sees Belphie look at him with despair and emptiness asking him why, why didn’t he save her? Why didn’t he save his baby sister? Why, why, why?

He wakes up with cold sweat at the same time every morning and tries to eat something from the pantry

But once he grabs something, a voice whispers to him. A voice that sounds like Lilith.

“Why didn’t you save me? Why, why, why? You should’ve died and left Belphie and I to live. I loved you and you left me to die by myself. Why Beelzebub? Why?”

Sometimes, when he looks at you, he sees Lilith there. Standing with a terrified and confused look. He knows you aren’t her but you…you somehow have that warmth that she had, intensified.

Beelzebub’s guilt and regret always stays with him. Any time he eats, he tastes despair on the tip of his tongue to the back of his throat

He saved Belphie…but his baby sister. The one who everyone, especially him was supposed to protect and fight for…

Died. Died alone. Died falling in pain.

(Lucifer almosts knocks on his door sometimes at night when he hears him but stops just an inch before. He cannot. He has to keep his lips shut.)

Everyday. Carrying the weight of his sister’s death around his neck. One day, he wonders if the weight will carry him instead.

He hates his sin. How he wants and wants and wants and takes and takes and takes and then when he cannot get it

He ruins.

He tore down Mammon’s wall, made all of Satan’s bookshelves fall on the floor, broke a huge piece of Asmodeus’s bathtub, and caused one of Levi’s figurines to snap in half. Just because he was the avatar of gluttony.

He hates it.

He hates it even more when he almost clawed you across your neck because he smelled candy in your pocket when he was desperate

You…you didn’t seem to be scared though.

(You already knew how he was.)

You were startled when he almost hit you but you just put down the cleaning towel down and took out the pieces of candy from your pocket and just gave it to him

He was incredibly confused on why you didn’t scream, or cry, or even get angry at him

“Just ask me next time, I always have some sort of candy or snack on me. Besides, I can cook for you too.”

He’s amazed at the fact that you just offered to cook for him

And when he wakes up from his nightmare again, you’re in the kitchen. Cooking some pancakes

He just sits down after he washes his face and his hands and watches you from the counter

When you’re done, you just give it to him on the plate with a lot of fruits and some whipped cream. It towered as high as his head even without the berries and cream.

His eyes just sparkle and his mouth gapes at the sight

He devours the delicious cakes in a minute and looks up at you to see if you’re upset about your hard work just disappearing like that

But you just smile at him and offer him some more.

Beelzebub doesn’t see Lilith anymore. Not even hearing her voice or her touch. He can feel her…no your warmth radiating from you.

He can feel some heat go to his face as he nods

Beel would be forever grateful for the break you’ve given him from his torment

Belphegor

Being the youngest means you really don’t have a say in anything you do

He followed Beel who followed Mammon who then followed Lucifer

He loved Lucifer but…

His sister…died

The one thing that he wished for was for his family to not perish

And he lost his sister.

With the anguish and grief upon him, he wonders how she’d be alive

If Lucifer hadn’t went against their father, she would’ve had a peaceful death…

If Beelzebub hadn’t saved him, she would still be alive…

No. It’s his fault.

He introduced her into the human realm. He killed her. He killed her.

It’s all his fault from the start.

He shouldn’t have went off with her to the realm of mortals

He should’ve just said no to her even with her puppy eyes

A piece of his heart is empty and dead from his sister’s death

She’s gone and it’s because of him.

He should’ve died that day.

He rather sleep and indulge in his sin as everytime he sleeps, he dreams of his whole family being together.

He curls up around his pillow, not allowing anyone, not even Beel to wake him up until he is needed.

Belphie promises to himself to protect his family. No matter what he does or kills.

…he sees how Beel looks at you though.

How he feels some sort of familiarity like…

Beel told him before how your presence felt like Lilith’s warmth.

And he was right. But it quickly turned into a bitter and regretful reminder for him.

He can’t stand to feel Lilith anymore. Not when she isn’t here.

But he feels a sort of warmth when you vacuum around him with a silent spell on the machine. He can see through his cracked opened eyes how cautious you are of him sleeping on the ground in his room

You…you even take his blanket and drape it over him gently.

And then go about your day.

This happens anytime he’s sleeping on the floor somewhere. Outside, inside, the planetarium…anywhere

And you always bring back the blanket he sleeps with no matter what.

He asks you why you do this when you could just leave him alone

“I don’t want you to get sick or cold when you sleep. It disturbs you and makes your dreams really difficult.”

…

Wow…you really do care that much.

He just falls asleep again afterwards when you drape it over him

But this time, the dreams of his family eventually add you in it, by his side laughing freely…

He wonders why Lilith never regretted falling in love with a creature that wasn’t an angel until he met you.

Uh so for Asmodeus’s, I know he looks in the mirror but I kinda hc him to completely break down when he would see his reflection right after becoming a demon? I mean change yk?

As always, thank you for reading!

#minniemoots #mindlessclow #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me! #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #x reader #obey me nightbringer #angst #hurt/comfort #gn reader #obey me

[earthtooz]

in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks. 

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship. 

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now. 

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.” 

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?” 

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you. 

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack. 

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.” 

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up. 

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!” 

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?” 

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does. 

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#CUTIE KAZUHA :(( #earthtooz: genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff

[astonmartingf]

FALLING FOR YOU ; MV1

max verstappen x reader

. . . in his own little way, max finds the solutions to his problems not without a little help from his friends and ends up giving you the confession of a lifetime

amgf yeah... there's this, just fluff. i won't be as active this week because of exams and research but this is prime time of my impulsive ideas so either i can milk this opportunity to write every single day, or avoid this app for the remainder of the week. enjoy 👍

Max strives for stability. 

He enjoys the same routine that consists of jogging at eight am, early morning workout by nine am, brunch, a few rounds of sim racing, stopping by for a few phone calls and online meetings. If he isn’t expected to fly anywhere else he’d have his usual afternoon snack, play with his cats, more sim racing from six to eight pm, dinner with his team, reviewing data and notes, an hour for his own leisure— mostly sim racing, before heading to bed at one am.

Whatever happens in between is usually one of Lando’s plans in an attempt to spice things up in his life. Whether it’s going to the movies, buying ice cream at the convenience store down the street, or playing padel. Max is very much thankful for his friends.

Max also strives for the best.

He takes pride in his skills in racing and acknowledges his talent, and flaws. Honing them like a sharp knife through whetstones, he polishes himself and cuts through the defenses of the grid. He is a World Champion for a reason, and with a great car and team behind him, he knows they’ll get far. Max is very much thankful for the trust his team set upon him.

Max hates uncertainty. 

Well- hate is too strong of a word and dislike would be too weak for his opinions. 

Max despises uncertainty.

Especially when there’s you- the current root of all his “problems”. Despite his tendency to be blunt and straightforward statements, uncertainty always left a distasteful feeling in his mouth. 

Realizing that his wavering feelings for you have now shattered the routine he built to perfection. Long gone are sleeping on time and hello to staying up with you crowding his thoughts. Head full of the lingering scent of your perfume and the same voice playing in his head.

Max hated it. He despised how you orbit around his mind, bouncing through the walls of the gray matter inside his skull. He often catches himself smiling at the thought of you- before a bitter scowl fills his face and an incredulous and slightly constipated look pasted on his face.

But that was the least of his worries, such feelings could be fixed (a term he used to convince himself these are temporary). It’s not that Max doesn’t believe in relationships or think it’s nothing but a distraction, deep inside he’s aware that he craves affection. It’s the vague emotions clouding his heart making him think twice.

Then again, Max is thankful for his friends. 

“What did you say?” Lando squinted his eyes in the hopes to hear his words clearly. With a blank look- almost as if he put on a mask void of emotions Max spoke once more.

“Do I like YN?” 

The rest tilted their head to the side, in confusion. “D-did you perhaps ask us. . . if- if you like someone?” George, asked once more to make sure of his words, sighing in disbelief.

“It’s not just someone, it’s YN.” Max pushed the question once more and glanced at everyone on the table.

The silence was deafening. Max’ statement was too loud and too quiet at the same time, no one spoke and they left each other contemplating on the next words he will say.

“I need help. How do I know I like YN?” Collective gasps were heard throughout and one by one they slowly left the group of friends on the table leaving Max with Lando and George.

“How about we sleep over your question and. . .think— think about it you know?” Lando, the first to talk regarding the revelation that their stoic friend has now developed feelings for someone.

“Sleep? I hardly get any sleep these nights. I want to confirm my feelings now so I can finally sleep peacefully.” 

That’s when the pair noticed the bags under his eyes, mostly due to the lack of sleep like he said. Lando took a glance at George and started to talk telepathically at each other.

George sighs before pushing Max from his seat, “You see Max these feelings can’t be confirmed in a night, these requ-”

“It’s been weeks, George, I can’t lose sleep over such a trivial matter.” Max retorted with a firm stance using his lack of sleep as a front to confirm his feelings.

“Okay, first of all feelings are not a trivial matter. They are valid, and whatever is going on in your head about YN shouldn’t be taken lightly. Not because we’re curious but because we care about your emotional well being.” Lando spoke in a serious voice which only added on to Max’ confusion.

Feelings are not a big deal, at least not for him.

“And we're curious as to why you like YN.” George chimed as he followed the pair outside the room.

“Yes we’re curious but now how about I give you some romance books that you can study and read. Only you can confirm your feelings Max, let’s stop by my room and I’ll give you books you can read and next week- next week we’ll talk about this matter again.”

Lando now sounds like a mom scolding his child for misbehaving, dragging the latter to his room and sending him off with a tower of romance books.

Max is smart, he can understand such concepts by himself.

Feeling accomplished, Lando glanced at George smirking at him before walking away with Max to his apartment.

Max on the other hand went inside his room and began to bury himself in the books he brought along. “If I’m not sleeping at least I get my feelings in line.”

One chapter. And another turns to five and in the blink of an eye a week has passed. Max returned to his routine but instead of sleeping at one he pushed it to an even later hour to make time for reading which helped him sleep.

The first nights were hard, after finishing a chapter of the book he finds himself falling asleep and now you appear to become more vivid in his mind. Invading his dreams as romantic scenarios play on repeat while Max mindlessly sleeps which results in him waking up flustered and warm.

Passing by you on the paddock became frequent; it's as if the universe has its way to bring you together. Now everywhere Max looked there was you, in the corner of his sight you occupied a chunk of his thoughts and as much as he hated to admit he found himself anticipating your presence.

By the end of the week you managed to invade his thoughts and heart which only strengthened his theory and confirmed his feelings for you. With no time to waste, Max went to look for you. The second practice was over, he’s telling you what you’re doing to him.

With new found information from the team about your whereabouts, Max made his way to the hospitality locating where you’re assigned he opens the door abruptly to see you preparing food. You stand straight feeling the intimidating aura around him, you watch him exhale a sigh of relief before talking a large step in your direction. On instinct you back away giving him space, every step Max takes is a step backward from you.

Unknowingly your feet hit the corner of the marble countertop and like a cliché scene Max remembers from the books he’s been reading you stumble backwards.

Max is a racer for a reason, and with swift reflexes he managed to catch your fall and brought you up to your feet. “You should watch where you’re going. I don’t want you falling just like how I fell for you.”

Silence. Complete, utter silence from the both of you paired with the low buzz of the booming air conditioner right near you. You blink your eyes incredulously, “What?”

“I mean. . . I do want you to fall for me, it would be sad to find out that my feelings are one-sided. But I mean my words YN.”

You adjust your posture and back away. “What are the words Max? About me falling to the ground or you. . . you f- falling for me?” Your voice thins out at the end unsure of what you just heard.

“Both. I don’t want you to fall, it’s dangerous just like how you did to me. You enamored me with those charms, I just want to know how you did it.” Max spoke with the most bored and plain looking face he could muster up. His palms were sweating inside his pockets in extreme nervousness.

“Is this- is this your confession perhaps?” You try to piece things together, like the subtle clues Lando and George have been leaving out of nowhere.

“Yes. This is my confession.” Max blurts out as sweat drips from the side of his forehead. And just as he was losing hope from this failed confession your bubbly laugh bursts the silence in the air.

“You know, you need to work on your confession more. That was unlike any other, but I understand what you mean. Do you want me to fall for you, Maxie?” 

Max stares at you and you don't miss the soft gaze he set upon you. You note the light blush spread around the apples of his cheeks as his eyes light up the moment you called his name. The once awkward silent air was now filled with a warm feeling that spread all over your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.

“I do. I fell for you, I like you, and I want to mean something to you.”

His way with words caught you off guard, Max Verstappen, who would’ve thought. You smile at him, this time it’s you walking towards his direction.

Max stiffened at the proximity between the two of you, his feet stuck to the floor preventing him from backing away. Your face gets closer to his and all the thoughts clouding his mind have been wiped away.

You face him and whisper something in his ear before walking away towards the kitchen at the back, legs shaking and breaths heavy. 

Taking a moment to himself Max meditates in an attempt to calm his bouncing heart, legs shaking as if they ran a hundred miles, and his mind whirring into different ideas and possibilities.

Max never falls- literally and figuratively.

Yet you managed to be the root of all his problems. The person who made him fall, there was no doubt that Max fell and will still be falling for you.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine