#I’m so busy it’s so maddening | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyfastcars · 3 months

Text

rumours about you | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re not necessarily happy regarding the announcement your family just made – about how you would be marrying one of their allies’ sons in order to unite forces and what not. You had multiple issues with your family making major decisions about your life just like that, but the main one was that you disliked the one they chose for you to marry. Lando. So you decided to confront him, thinking the two of you would work together and find a way to call off the wedding. But Lando has other plans.

Themes: arranged marriage, smut, explicit language, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies ish, degrading kink, dom!lando, slightly bratty!reader

“I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.”

When you showed up to his house – or mansion rather – earlier, his butler told you to wait for him in his study room. The butler also said that Lando would be home soon. You were not very patient at the moment given the unsteadiness of your life, so waiting for half an hour was driving you insane.

Had it not been for the multiple bookshelves to explore and inspect, you would’ve surely lost it.

Lando paused briefly at the doorway upon hearing the sound of your voice. Then he walked into the room in that arrogant manner of his, that maddening smile on his face, and shut the door behind him.

The bastard knew he looked good and he flaunted it always. Nice and muscular, that tailored, dark suit looked damn good on him. Little bit of facial hair, brown curls on his head and those damn pretty eyes. Not to mention those natural, extra long lashes that would make anyone jealous.

He smirked when he caught you checking him out. “Apologies,” He said, “But your future husband is a very busy man, you might wanna get used to it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the large desk, watching said future husband as he walked straight toward the mini bar and began making drinks. You noticed he grabbed two glasses so at least he was polite. But you weren’t here to have drinks and chit chat. So you got straight to it.

“I want you to call off the wedding.” You said.

“This is the third time we’re having this conversation.” Lando sent you a look before turning back to focus on the drinks. “And I’m asking you again, why would I do that?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment. You two had had this conversation twice already. And each time, Lando would just send you home without listening to what you had to say.

“Because…” You trailed off, then tried again, “Because we would be miserable together. I mean,” You chuckled humorlessly, “Marrying to unite forces? Really?” You sounded disgusted, “That’s so old fashioned.”

Lando finally walked away from his minibar with two drinks in his hands. He sipped on one and when he made it over to you, shamelessly letting his eyes roam all over your body before he handed you the other glass. You accepted it and took a sip as well. It was some kind of spiced whiskey, and you welcomed the burn.

He shrugged, sliding one hand into his pocket. “I see no problem with it,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes with his bluish green ones. “It’s been happening for decades in both our families. It’s made us strong, powerful, and wealthy.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, “Then go find someone else. I don’t want to marry you.”

Truth is, you’d known Lando and his family since you were a kid. Dinner parties, galas, birthdays, family vacations, he was always around. And you disliked him even as a child. He was too loud, too popular. Then he got older and got hot, then slept around like it was his job. The rumours that circulated around about him were… not very pleasant.

Lando raised an eyebrow at you. “Why not?” He teased. “I’m perfect.”

You gave him a fake smile and said, “I would rather marry someone who is less of a manwhore.”

He chuckled. “That just means I have more experience.” He stated, then leaned closer and whispered into your ear, “Experience that I can use to turn you into my perfect little wife. Both in and out of the bedroom.”

You scoffed, “You’re disgusting.”

“I’ve been called worse things, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Look just… call it off.”

He asked, “Why don’t you do it?”

“You think I haven’t tried? They won’t listen to me. They say I’m just throwing another tantrum. Like I’m some kind of child.” You stated, finishing your drink and leaning against the desk again. Lando stepped closer, invading your personal space, looking at you like you were some kind of oddity. “What are you doing?” You hissed.

He finished his drink and said, “Just thinking about how I’ll handle your tantrums in the future. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, I’m very good with brats.”

You should’ve known this would be useless. So instead of arguing, you said to him, “If we ever get married, I will never let you put a finger on me. You hear me?”

The asshole smiled like he was looking at a little puppy. “You’re cute when you try to stand your ground, princess.” He said in a lowered voice. “But we both know you’ll turn into a puddle the moment I touch you.”

Then his hands were on you, holding you by the waist as he pulled you into him. Chests pressing together, you were speechless for a moment as you stared into his pretty eyes. He smelt so good too.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Lando smirked, “What did you think you were doing, huh? Showing up at my house in a tiny little dress, asking me to call off the wedding, accusing me of being a whore too.” He chuckled. “You’re a mess, babygirl. Don’t you see it?” He asked. “A complete brat who needs some taming.”

He also noticed the way you clenched your thighs together, like you were craving friction down there.

“Don’t you see you need me?” His voice was softer now, and still condescending. He leaned in and whispered, his lips brushing against the side of your mouth as he did, “I can help. I can make you the most perfect wife for me. Obediently, polite,” He chuckled, “And dirty, but only for me. I’ll handle all your tantrums in private, and I’ll be so, so good to you.”

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your mouth at the sound of his words. They should’ve offended you, they would’ve if it wasn’t for the wetness gathering in your flimsy underwear.

He was so close, his lips just an inch away from your own. His scent was driving you insane. You knew whatever was gonna happen from now on would change everything. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to.

So when he brought his hand in between your legs and slid it up your dress, you let him. You let out a gasp when he cupped you down there, instinctively rubbing his fingers against your dripping wet folds.

Lando scoffed, “See? Told you you’d turn into a puddle.” You whimpered as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “Filthy, little brat.” He chuckled, then pushed your underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out a loud moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet.

“Please…” You begged.

“Please what?” He scoffed again as he slid a finger inside you and felt you clenching hard around him. “Still want me to call off the wedding?” He teased, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. “Answer me, what do you want? Hmm? You want to come like a good girl or do you want to be a haughty brat and cause a scene?”

He stroked you so perfectly, so slowly that it made you lose your mind. “Please, Lando…” You gasped.

He added another finger as he chuckled darkly. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Showing up here again and again, acting all tough and assertive. Thinking you can tell me what to do? Hmm? You think this is how it’s gonna work?” He pulled away a little to look at your pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you everything. I’ll worship your entire fucking existence. I’ll fuck you until you forget your own name. And in return all you have to do is be a good girl, and eventually, my wife. Yeah?”

You nodded a little too quickly. He laughed.

“No more of this call off the wedding nonsense. You hear me?”

You nodded again.

“Good girl. See? You’re learning already.” He removed his hands from in between your legs and said, “Get naked, and bend over my desk.”

As if under some kind of spell, you obeyed immediately. You took the dress off, then removed your underwear and dropped all your clothes into a little pile. You took one look at him and he pointed at the edge of the desk, so you did as he asked.

As your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head, you could hear him behind you as he took his suit jacket off and probably also rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt to his elbows.

Then you felt his hands on you again, rubbing up and down your sides, your hips, your back as he pressed his clothed erection against you from behind. Another whimper escaped your mouth when you felt it. Warm, and hard, rubbing against your wetness.

He bent down and whispered into your ear, his chest pressing lightly against your back, “You see how nice it feels when you’re obedient, baby?” He trailed his fingers down your spine and in between your legs again.

You squirmed under him, against the desk. Breathing heavily as he took his time and touched you like he was in no rush. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you, “Please… stop teasing me,” You sounded just as desperate as you were.

He kissed your ear, making you shiver just at the mere touch of his lips, before saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

The sound of him undoing his belt and lowering his zipper made your heart race. You felt his rough, but warm hands on your body again as he grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet because of course, he wanted to make you suffer some more.

“Are you gonna behave from now on?” He asked, sliding the tip of his cock up and down your slit, making you whine and cry out in desperation.

“Yes…” You whispered. “Yes, just please–,”

The sound of his hand slapping your thigh cut you off. Followed by a slight sting which made you squirm and whine some more. Lando’s voice was deeper now when he spoke, “What did I say about ordering me around? Hmm?”

You tried to push back into him but he pulled away chuckling each time you did. So finally you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl,” He whispered, slowly pushing inside you until he filled you up, feeling your walls tighten around him immediately. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel like fucking heaven.” He groaned, muttering under his breath as he fucked you with shallow thrusts.

Lando grabbed your wrists and pinned them down at your lower back, using it as leverage to fuck deeper into you, harder, faster. He laughed when you began whining even louder, mumbling incoherently as he fucked you.

“Sure you wanna give this up, baby?” He questioned, gradually building up his pace. “You sure you don’t want this little pussy to be full of me each night? For the rest of your life? Huh?”

The sound of of you two fucking was driving you insane.

“You’re gonna be addicted to this cock now, you’re gonna want it all the time.” He boasted. “But you can only have it when you’re a good girl, you hear me?”

His breathy moans, his raspy voice, your body bumping against the desk with each thrust, the sound of metal from his belt clinking together, it was all too much, too good.

“Please…” You whimpered, begging for more.

“Yeah? This is all you needed, isn’t it, baby? Acting like a disobedient brat, thinking you make the rules, all of it just because you needed to be fucked and put in your place, huh?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him.

You whined, “Lando… I–”

He cut you off quickly, “Hold it, don’t come yet.”

He thrust his cock harder into you, making your eyes water and your heart race. Then he just stopped, abruptly. Pulled out and pulled you up from the desk, turning you to face him.

“You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?” He grabbed you by the chin as he spoke, staring deep into your eyes. You could barely form a thought. Lando just scoffed and leaned in to kiss you, hard, before pulling away and saying, “Get down on your knees.”

Lust-drunk and under his spell, you did. You got down on your knees in front of him. You watched how he grabbed his cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth and said, “Now be a good girl, and suck.”

You opened your mouth wider as he slowly pushed himself deep into your mouth. He grabbed the back of your neck and gently guided you.

“That’s it. See? You’re learning already? That’s how a good wife sucks her husband’s cock,” He hissed in pleasure. You looked up and met his pretty eyes. He looked down at you like you belonged there, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth.

You felt his smooth skin along your tongue, tasting his precum as he groaned and hissed in pleasure. You whimpered, circling his tip with your tongue before sucking on it gently.

“Look at me.”

When you looked up at his handsome face, he said, “Fuck… you’re so beautiful, you know that? Come on now. Up.”

Lando had you sit on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck immediately, fingers sliding into his curly hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was a deep kiss again with him growling into your mouth with impatience.

He kissed his way down your neck as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease this time, making you gasp at how good he felt as he began fucking you.

“You feel that?” He asked, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed them further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “This cock can be all yours, baby.” He whispered, lips brushing against your own as he spoke. “You can have it anytime, all day, every day if you want.” He fucked you hard, fast and deep. Your body would’ve fallen on top of the desk had he not wrapped his arms around you to keep you close.

You moaned incessantly, not caring if his butler or housekeepers heard. “Lando …” You gasped, “I’m so close…” You whimpered.

He chuckled. “Are you now?” He teased. “Your little pussy feels so good… so fucking tight like it was made for me,” He whispered against your skin and you barely heard him given your heartbeats echoed in your ear, you were breathless, you wanted more.

You whined as you felt yourself getting so close to the edge again as he pounded into you relentlessly. You felt a familiar pressure in between your legs, all of it getting too much to handle.

“Lando, please,” You cried out, looking into his eyes and silently pleading. “Please, can I come?”

He smirked, feeling your walls clench violently around him. “See I told you I was very good with brats. Look at you no longer complaining, no longer whining about wanting to call off our wedding.” His voice sounded deeper when he spoke. Then he saw that look in your eyes, you were close to losing your mind so he finally said, “Come on then, baby. Come all over this cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You came with a loud cry of his name, walls clenching around him and milking him so perfectly that he followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh tightly and holding you close.

You rested your forehead on his shoulder as you both caught your breath. He wrapped his arms around your shaking body, caressing up and down your back while you held on to him like he was your everything.

“So?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. “Still want to call off the wedding?”

“I hate you.” You mumbled, voice muffled given you’d shoved your face into the crook of his neck. You hated how comforting his body heat was.

Lando chuckled. “Of course you do.” He taunted. Then leaning down to get closer to your ear he whispered, “Your pussy just strangled my cock so hard I’m pretty sure it left bruises on it. But sure, you hate me.”

You whined, squirmed a little because his words made a weird wave of pleasure wash over you.

Lando laughed and said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

#lando norris #lando norris smut #mob!lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

2K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

CW for ✨spice✨

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #open relationship trope

2K notes · View notes

champagnefountains · 2 months

Text

LUCIFER MAGNE – H.H

CHAPTER III (Finale) - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapters: I [x], II [x] Word count: 2.6k+ words (unedited) Genre/other tags: Angst with comfort. Good ending. Jealousy. Warnings: Cursing (of course). Gets a little bit heated towards the end, but nothing too explicit. Alastor being an asshole.

Much to your surprise, you found yourself enjoying Alastor’s company. When he wasn’t being the maddening person that he can be, he was actually quite pleasant to be around. After grabbing the items that Charlie had requested (which had all been teleported back to the hotel), Alastor convinced you to have a leisurely stroll around the outskirts of town. There, he introduced you to the many places he frequented, from the small, homey cafe he would always go to, to even the butchers where he purchases his premium meats. All the while, you tried to ignore the looks that you got from the surrounding residents – a mixture of fear and distaste were sent towards the radio-demon, whilst others stared at you in question, wondering who you may be and what you were doing with the Overlord.

Even though you weren’t in the mood to chat, Alastor was more than happy to fill in the silence, sharing a couple stories and cracking corny jokes here and there, which you had to admit were pretty funny. After an exhausting week, it made you realise how nice it was to actually smile and laugh again.

After a couple hours, you both made your way back to the hotel. All the while, Alastor had been recounting a narrative from his times in the living world which had taken a particularly hilarious turn, causing you both to chuckle aloud. You wiped the amused tear that escaped your eye as Alastor pushed through the front doors of the establishment.

“Oh, fuck no!” A familiar voice shouted from the distance, startling and causing you to flinch on the spot. Swiftly turning your head to the source of the ruckus, you were dumbfounded to see Lucifer himself, stomping his way towards your direction with a vexed expression. Behind him, you saw a distressed Charlie staggering towards him as Vaggie followed suit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you asshole!?” Lucifer growled, getting up close and personal with Alastor, whilst poking an accusatory finger against his chest. Before you could’ve reacted, you were then pulled back by the deer-demon, who draped an arm around your shoulders.

“Now, now, why the sudden hostility? I was only taking my darling [Name] out for a much needed breath of fresh air!” Alastor chimes, feigning innocence and batting his lashes. “I took it upon myself to look after her wellbeing. We’ve all been so worried since she’s just been so, so dispirited and blue lately…and I’m sure you know why that is, your highness.” The backhanded comment caused you to swiftly peer up at the Overlord, baffled by the harshness of his remark. But as you observe his ever-growing grin, it only then struck you, the sole purpose behind his kind display towards you.

Meanwhile, it had Lucifer fuming. Literally. “Why you little, piece of shit–” The King then grabbed Alastor by his dress-shirt, the fabric scorching under his touch, “who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Seeing the growing tension between the two men, Charlie immediately stepped forward. “Dad, stop it,” she sternly said, grabbing his wrist in warning. Lucifer was quick to shake the girl’s hand off, tightening his grip on Alastor’s shirt, “No, Charlie, I need to put this pompous asshole back in his place! It seems he doesn’t know basic courtesy, and how to keep out of other people’s business.”

Alastor chortles mockingly in response. “Oh, hoh? You speak of courtesy? I believe you should take your own advice, your highness, as you seem to lack consideration to those around you,” he pushed even further, all the while peering down at you from the corner of his eyes. Lucifer follows his line of sight, his eyes landing on the troubled expression etched on your face. His gaze softened for a brief moment, before hardening once more as he fixed his attention back to the Overlord.

“You better shut that damn trap of yours if you know what’s good for you,” Lucifer warns deeply. “Now, I’m merely sticking up for a dear pal of mine. So tell me, what exactly is so wrong about that?” Alastor shoots back, harshly flicking the man’s hand away. Tutting, he patted down his now-tattered suit, an eye twitching in mild annoyance.

“It is when you decide to overstep boundaries.” With a blink of an eye, Lucifer’s scleras suddenly switched over to a red hue, sending you into sudden caution. Alastor’s grin turned almost sinister at the challenging tone. “Perhaps it’s necessary to do so. After all, dear [Name] over here had a pleasant time. There was no harm done.”

The King gritted his teeth, his horns threatening to reveal themselves, “Oh, but that’s what you think. ‘Cause someone will be harmed if you decide to keep this shit up–”

“Lucifer, stop.” Almost instantaneously, the King’s fumes were extinguished as he turned his gaze towards you. He felt shame fill him to the core at the sight of your disappointed expression, glaring at him in disapproval. Baffled, he opened his mouth to speak, “[Name], I–”

“Don’t,” you sternly intervene, raising a hand to silence him. You then send a critical glance back at Alastor, forcibly pushing his arm off of you, “And you. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking of, pulling a stunt like this and using my vulnerability for your sick entertainment, but I expect you to apologise to Charlie and everyone else here for causing all this ruckus.” You ignored the way the radio-demon’s eyes rolled as you pushed through, stepping forward to grab Lucifer by the wrist, before dragging him along towards the staircase leading to your rooms. In doing so, you offer an apologetic look to your friends as you pass by the bar, who nodded back in silent understanding and awe.

The walk towards your shared room was painfully silent as the both of you dreaded the upcoming confrontation. As the number of your shared room came into view, you let go of Lucifer to wordlessly invite yourself inside. The King followed suit with hesitant steps, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Rubbing his arms self-consciously, his downcast eyes trailed up to you. You had plopped yourself down on the furthest side of the bed across the room, your back facing towards him and posture slumped over. Lucifer let out a shaky breath.

“...[Name], darling. I’m sorry,” he starts softly, nervously squeezing his hands into fists, “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. It was–It was childish of me. I didn’t mean to upset you–“

“Y’know, you’ve got some nerve acting the way you did…” you suddenly cut in, voice surprisingly faint but filled with melancholy, “...acting all resentful and jealous towards Alastor–who mind you, was actually just taking me out for a walk–when you yourself still seem to be preoccupied with your ex.” Lucifer grimaced at the venom laced in your tone. Ouch. Though it was deserving, he dejectedly thinks to himself.

“[Name], please, I-I can explain everything. I didn’t mean for tonight to go the way it did,” Lucifer pleaded whilst staring at the back of your head. He didn’t know whether his sincerity was effectively making its way through to you.

“Then what were you planning?” You say sharply, your voice raising a bit, “I…Lucifer, just please tell me what’s going on. Just tell me the truth.” Your eyes started to blur as a sob threatened to escape your throat. “Because I’m tired of this. I-I’m so tired of feeling so insecure, confused and lost, and I...I-I don’t even know what you want from me anymore.” You hang your head down low, hugging yourself tightly as the tears begin to pour out uncontrollably, “If…if you’re planning on breaking up with me, just go ahead and say it! I-I don't want to be waddling 'round like some–some idiot, waiting for you to–”

“No. Wha–[Name], no. Don’t even go there.” Lucifer said incredulously, immediately marching towards your side of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, reaching out to grab at your shaking hands. “That’s not why I’m here, okay? It’s not even remotely close to what I have to say. So please get that idea out of your head,” he reaffirms, while rubbing his thumbs against your hands in a reassuring manner. You decided to keep your gaze down, having no strength to look Lucifer in the eye, knowing fully well that you’d break even more if you were to do so. Your tiny gasps and hiccups were what filled the room, tearing the King’s heart bit by bit, with every second that passed. With no words spoken on your behalf, Lucifer took this as a cue to continue.

“[Name]…I’m sorry for upsetting you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I-I know I’ve got a lot of baggage, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you carry that burden with me. I…I did a lot of thinking during our time apart, and it made me realise how much of a fool I was–of how blind I was to what was in front of me. I took for granted your love and kindness. I-It wasn’t fair to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I-I truly didn't know what I was thinking, continuing to wear that ring. I came to terms and knew deep down for so long, even before we got together, that there wasn’t a possibility that Lilith and I would ever get together again. And yes, I do love Lilith. She’s been with me since the beginning of time and for most of eternity, and is the mother of my only child. Perhaps it was the memories that we shared that kept me hanging on for so long, I thought. She didn’t do anything wrong by me either…we just…sort of grew apart after a while. I-I don’t know why, but regardless…it hurt a lot. And even despite her absence now, I still do love her.”

At that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. His words were like a harsh punch to the gut. It was nauseating, and the room felt like it was caving in on you. Devastated, you attempted to pull yourself away to leave the room, but was forced to still as Lucifer reached up to cup a hand over your dampened cheek. He gently tugs your face upward, his eyes softening and staring deep into your crestfallen, reddened ones.

“But darling, it’s not the same anymore. It’s different now. And it’s because you changed that. Yes, Lilith will continue to be an important person in my life, there’s no doubt about it. But…it’s you, darling. I choose you. You mended and opened up my heart when I was a hundred-percent certain that I couldn’t for another soul again. Each second and moment I spent with you made me become so hopeful and excited for the future and whatever lies ahead of us. Alongside Charlie, you've made me the happiest I’ve ever been in so, so long. And it’s you who fortunately gave me a second chance in this life. I'm so grateful for you, and words can’t even express how much you mean to me. A-And I’m sorry it took a while for me to realise that, and for hurting you in the process.” Eyes closing, he leans in to press his forehead against yours.

“And yes, it might take a bit more time to put this all behind me, and I-I apologise. But…I’m finally ready to take that leap with you. My heart is yours for the taking–as long as you’ll have me, that is. And I-I don’t expect you to forgive me now–I wouldn’t even forgive myself either. But, if it’s space that you want and need, I’ll respect that. But just know that I love you. And I’m sorry if I made it seem that I don’t, or don’t show it enough. But believe me…I love you. I love you so damn much.”

The sincere confession left you speechless, feeling yourself practically melt into his hands like pudding. A sensation akin to relief crashed over you like a wave, finally hearing the words that you longed for, for over a week. With a broken sigh, you cupped a hand over his own, leaning in to bask in his touch. Your breath then hitched at the realisation that he had taken off his wedding ring, no longer feeling the cold metal against your skin – it was only his warmth alone that welcomed you. Your chest suddenly felt immensely full, overwhelmed by his love and affection, but also by the guilt that came for your previous words and actions that night. Your furrowed your brows, your tears clouding your vision once more, “Luci, I…I’m so sorry. I-I’m sorry for pushing you too much. I was being too selfish a-and I didn’t even stop to think about how you felt. I-I should’ve been more understanding and–”

Lucifer was quick to hush you, wiping your tears and shaking his head. “Darling, no. There’s no need for you to apologise, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong. And if anything, I needed that push.” He then leans in to press a lingering smooch on your forehead, “But I truly mean it when I say it, though. I do really love you. Being without you these past few days drove me insane–it’s crazy how much of an effect you have on me.” He tearfully chuckles.

A smile made its way up to your quivering lips, a blush dusting your cheeks from the sweet remark, “I love you too, Luci.”

Despite the wide grin that erupted on his face, it was humbled down by a tentative guise. “...Are we going to be okay?” He quietly asks, his eyes peering up at you in a hopeful manner. Your eyes softened at his uncertainty. Sniffling, you reach out and pull him into a hug, your face huddled into the crook of his neck. Lucifer was quick to return the gesture, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Mumbling a response into his neck, you say something incomprehensible, causing the man to chuckle softly into your hair. “Come on. Use your words, love,” he teased against your ear. You giggled, all the while nodding your head, “Y-Yeah…we’ll be okay.”

At that, Lucifer gently slowly pulled away, before leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. The King inhaled your whimpers as the kiss grew increasingly sensual and near-desperate, his hands beginning to wander down your waist. Lucifer then stood up from the ground, your lips remaining connected as he pushed you flat against the bed. Straddling your hips between his legs, his lips began to trail down your neck, biting and pecking at your feverish skin, all the while dragging his hands up your sides to pin your hands beside either side of your head. "Luci, please," you whined, feeling his sharp teeth graze above your pulse. He slowly made his way back up to meet you once more, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

Eventually, the both of you unwillingly parted for air, foreheads pressed together as you both took a brief moment to catch your breath. You both stared at each other lovingly, basking in each others' presence. “You’re perfect for me, my angel,” Lucifer whispers, softly pecking both your cheeks, your nose, then at your lips, “never forget that.”

It was clear that the both of you had some work to do, there was no question about that. He wasn’t as perfect as he made out to be, but neither were you. But since you have each other’s company, and with your newfound reconnection, you both knew that things will eventually turn out okay.

A/N: And that brings us to the very end! Thank you for reading and all the support you've shown for this mini-series! I'll now be focusing on requests~

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

2K notes · View notes

bruisedboys · 8 months

Note

can I request the prompt “95: sender cradles receiver’s face” with remus lupin? maybe him and shy!reader’s first kiss?

thank you for the request lovely! and I’m really sorry it took so long. hope this is okay angel 🤍

remus lupin x fem!reader

Remus looks at you like no one’s ever looked at you before. He looks at you and it’s like you’ve been struck by lightning.

“What?” You ask, still not used to how he looks at you like you’re made of gold. Your cheeks burn.

Remus tips his head to the side and drags his thumb across the space beneath your eye. Your heart skyrockets. You’re so unfamiliar with being touched in such a mindless way in such an insignificant spot. It feels like he’s got fire in his fingers when he does it.

“I’m not allowed to look at you?” Remus asks, frowning a frown that’s too deep to be real.

You huff, too flustered by his touching and his staring to do anything else. “You’re allowed,” you say quietly. “I’m just.” Shy? Nervous? So in love with him it freaks you out every time you think about it? “Never mind.”

Remus laughs softly and it sends what feels like a shockwave through your chest. He’s got the best laugh you’ve ever heard, all lovely and smooth like honey.

“You’re just what, babe?” He asks gently. In all the affection you’ve look away, eyes fixed on Remus’ knees, and he tilts you back up to look at him now, both hands on your face so you can’t escape. “Shy? You’ve got no reason to be. It’s just me.”

That’s kind of the point, you want to say. “Right,” you say instead. The word comes out sounding half-strangled though you don’t mean it to.

Remus smiles and pushes his hand backward to brush your hair away from your neck. He keeps his hand there, in the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“But,” he says, “if you want me to stop I will. Just say the word, pretty girl.”

In truth, you don’t want him to stop. He’s looking at you like he wants to kiss you and he’s close enough to actually kiss you. You bite the inside of your mouth and try to remember if you brushed your teeth before he came over.

“I, um. You don’t have to stop,” you say, words jumbled and your heart pumping hard. You did brush your teeth, you remember with a flood of relief. You do every time you see Remus, just in case. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Remus smiles and a wrinkle like a dimple appears in his cheek. It’s not quite a dimple but you like it better that way.

“I thought so,” he says. Not condescending, but not all together serious either. His smile makes the difference, teasing but still saccharine sweet.

You’re so busy staring at his lips you don’t notice how much closer he’s gotten in the past two seconds. He’s so close you could count his eyelashes. You look up at them, at his unfairly gorgeous brown eyes, the tiny scar running just beneath his eye, and try not to pass out.

He’s close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your lips when he says, “Do you want a kiss?”

You don’t have it in you to open your mouth and say an actual word. Instead you nod, past caring how desperate you look.

You get to see Remus’ pretty answering smile for about a half a second before it’s pressed to your mouth. He’s achingly gentle, his hand a steadying weight at the bottom of your neck, fingers curled round to brush the nape. His other hand stays at your cheek, pulling you into him carefully.

His lips on yours is a feeling you can’t describe. It’s exciting. It’s maddening. It makes you want more and makes you want to pull away for fear of going feral all at once. It’s a short kiss, compared to at least ones you’ve seen on TV, though you know those are staged and unrealistic. You’re happy anyway. And you’d probably die in Remus’ hands if he’d kissed you any longer.

You’re noticeably more breathless than Remus when he pulls away. You’d try to hide it but you’re too busy being frazzled.

“You okay?” He asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. He hooks a finger under your chin. He clocks the look on your face and his concern turns into teasing fast. “Woah. I’m not that bad at kissing, am I?”

You groan and tug yourself out of his grasp to hide your boiling hot face in your hands. It’s likely you’ll hide here for the rest of your life.

Remus laughs. “Oh, come on,” he protests, hands at your forearms and climbing. “Come out and I’ll give you another?”

Never mind.

#★ mal writes!#remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin blurbs #remus lupin drabbles #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin imagine

891 notes · View notes

dottedsilktie · 3 days

Text

Spring cleaning

Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint

You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March.

Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.

You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.

Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop, Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you.

You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider. You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy, it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.

He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze dart between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.

He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong voice, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.

can you tell i love domestic kento

#jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #gn reader #nanami fluff

394 notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 9 days

Note

Friday anon here-

Ugh! The implications of sub Vox in his canon time period are so delicious! It’s totally taboo, it would ruin him if it got out, so much shame and confusion and insecurity! He’d fight against it so hard but still somehow end up on his knees

He always thought he was such a strong man and now he’s trying to convince himself he doesn’t like it because that’s not how things are supposed to be! The man is supposed to take charge and he’s the man, isn’t he? This whole thing feels topsy turvy but it keeps happening and he keeps ending up breathless by the end of the night

It might be less maddening if you didn’t act so normal during the day but it’s business as usual, so professional that he could almost be convinced that it didn’t happen. But it did happen and it keeps happening and he’s in too deep now

What would people think if they knew?

The way I would so write an entire fic about this. But alas, i’m tired so take my fried up brain crumbs. Ugh but this with that assistant boss au you were talking about especially hits me.

But the level of insecurity that comes with every night is actually unimaginable. The way that you’re running the show isn’t right. He’s the man, and quite literally the man of the office as well. But you’re just so hard to resist when you speak to him as if you’re totally untouchable.

The embarrassment comes before, then he finds it impossible to keep while you work your magic, but the shame seeps in after you leave. He should feel weak, and he does. But you do your job and act as if it doesn’t even happen, so it’s undeniable that on a certain level he was still your boss. Just only in specific settings, he supposed.

He tried to justify it in his head; I mean, he’s keeping his worker happy, right? But he knew that was bullshit, before said worker was stroking his dick until he almost cried, he never was one to care about his employees needs.

You were so put together about the whole thing, absolutely rocking his world and then acting like it didn’t mean anything. It did mean something to Vox. It was so unconventional, and absolutely alarming when compared to the gender norms of the ‘man’ in a relationship.

So yes, he’d put up a fight, try to be domineering, but at a certain point it felt like he was just putting up a fight for the sake of putting up a fight. Not to win.

Because under your hands, he looses every ounce of power he has. He’s never felt anything like it, being a man of his status, he’s never not been given control or respect. But now he finds he’s craving your touch, your mean words, your—and here’s the worst part—validation. Shouldn’t you, his assistant, be craving his?

But your sessions never leave him competent enough to say anything. Whether it be after hours at work, in the supply closet in the office, or maybe a late night visit on a weekend. Your words had a habit of evoking an annoying amount of emotion out of him. When you’re too mean, which you are, he’s had to stop himself from crying. But when you’re uncharacteristically nice… well he has the same problem.

Other than immature fits of anger, he’s always had a particularly firm grasp on his emotions. But just as this grasp loosened around you, so swirled every illusion he’s ever had about the ‘right’ way for man and women to act, and not that he’s so concerned with morals, but boss and employee, as well.

And the thing is, he’s a very highly respected man around the office, so if it gets out that your fucking and how your fucking, he’s absolutely ruined. His reputation, the fear he evoked, all gone. He’d be a fucking joke. But that doesn’t stop him from begging for you every night.

Anyways, now I really wanna do a full fic with this like this idea has a hold over me oh my god. God, if you send me anons and asks about this idea tonight, i’ll start believing in you 🙌🙌

#well maybe not #anyways #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #dom reader

122 notes · View notes

m-writes-stories · 7 months

Text

The Kansas City Couple Pt 2

TAKES PLACE DURING TRAINING CAMP AND PRESEASON GAMES (JUNE-AUGUST 2023)

Word Count: 1117

Warnings: Car accident

Interviewer: We are back. It is training camp time. And we are only here with Y/N. Why isn’t Travis here?

Y/N: So during training camp, Travis stays on the Missouri Western State campus. So I only see him at practice. So I saw him yesterday morning but he stayed there. So I’ll see him again tomorrow morning at practice again.

Interviewer: So why do they stay on campus when they could just come back?

Y/N: So the 9:30-12 practice that community members can see isn’t the full practice. So they actually come back at 1 and practice for another 2 and a half hours. So it is easier for the players to just stay in the dorms on campus than it is to drive all the way home. They also normally do team bonding skills after practice. I know that this year there are 8 PS4s and like 6 X-Boxs. So they are most likely doing a huge madden tournament. Honestly it is good for them to have that time together as a team. I know a couple of years ago there was a lot of separation between the rookies and the vets as training camp. And now they stay at campus. It is really funny cause Pat (Patrick Mahomes) called me the other day and we were talking and he goes “you know that Trav leaves early every night from our Madden tournament to call you right?” and I was confused. He said “every night when he calls you, we are most likely playing Madden, and he just gets up and leaves. He normally comes back 30 minutes to an hour later.” Which is funny cause he is calling me right now, (Answers the phone). Hi Trav! “Hey baby, what are you doing?” I am filming the documentary. Can I call you back after like an hour? “Yeah that's fine I love you!” I love you too. That is normally not how our conversations go. But we need to film so he can wait. He probably wasn’t doing anything important anyway.

Interviewer: Is it hard not having Travis here?

Y/N: It definitely was in the beginning. But it is mostly normal now. I’m sorta used to it. I have been doing this for so long. You know literally since day 1. So since then it has been getting easier. I don’t know if it is 100% easy, but I am pretty much used to him not being here for basically 3 months straight. We call and text and facetime so often it is kind of like he is here. There are evenings when he isn’t playing Madden and I am just walking around the house with him on Facetime. And it is literally like he is at the house.

Interviewer: What do you think about the Podcast?

Y/N: The New Heights podcast. Um, it's fun. I think Travis has so much fun with it. I love that he gets to talk to Jason (Travis’s brother). They are both so busy during the season and this is something that they can do to stay close. Even in past years with having Tuesdays off, there wasn’t a lot of time for them to sit down and talk. And so now with the podcast they have a set time to not be bothered. Which actually rarely happens, they get interrupted a lot, between me and the girls. Something is interrupting them.

Interviewer: So we talked about this during the off season, that you and Travis were off and on throughout high school. And you mentioned that you were in a car accident your senior year. Can we talk about that?

Y/N: yeah for sure. We can talk about that. So yes I was in a car accident my senior year. In January of that year I was driving home from wrestling practice and I hit a very slick patch of the road and slid into the ditch. But the ditch happened to ot be super deep so I actually just rolled over the ditch and rolled my car like 6 times. This is funny but not at the same time. It was actually Travis that found me. So this was back before we had cell phones. But we lived pretty close to each other, and the plan was that after practice I was to go to his house for a family dinner type thing. Well it had gotten way past the time that I should have been at his house. So he told his parents that he was going to drive the normal route to school, which is the same for both of us, and he found my car.

Interviewer: So you said in the previous interview that the accident kind of put a barrier between you and Travis. May we ask why?

Y/N: So being a wrestler and a softball player, I was determined after the accident to get back to 100% health. And I kind of pushed myself harder than I should have and it took me a while to realize that. But during the first like 3 weeks after the accident, there were times that I felt Travis being too protective. He was really just trying to get me to rest and take it easy. And all I wanted to do was to get back to being 100%. So I decided around the beginning of February that it would be best if Travis and I took a break. So we did and in April when I was finally feeling like myself again we ended up getting back together. And we have been together since.

Interviewer: So with that being said we know you wrestled at the college level. Was there ever a time when you felt Travis cared more about football than you or your wrestling?

Y/N: We definitely had arguments about that throughout college. But it was never that I felt he didn’t care about me or my wrestling career. It was more that we had two completely different focuses for a good chunk of the school year that we had a hard time spending time together. There were fights where we said that our individual sport was more important. But at the end of the day we knew that wasn’t true and that the other person came first.

Interviewer: I know fans would love to have multiple episodes with just you but we are going to hopefully get Travis back in for an interview. Hopefully after the first preseason game. We would love to talk about how he is feeling. But we will have to make time to get him to sit down and talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I also want to say that my requests are open for Travis only right now. So go send in all your Travis Kelce one shot ideas,

Love you all, M

#m-writes-stories #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce

140 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

Maddening One, My Goddess (S.R.)

*Picture is not indicative of Reader's appearance.

Summary: Spencer hooked up with a goddess on February 13 and almost immediately comes to regret it when he attends a pre-planned Valentine's Day blind date.

Request: Spencer has a one night stand with a random woman but on valentines he's supposed to go on a blind date with one of Penelope's friends and it turns out it's the same woman Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff (16+ for sexual themes) Content Warning: Fade to black scene with sexual themes, alludes to sex, one night stand, Greek mythology, Reader as Aphrodite, second hand embarrassment, awkward dinners, kissing/making out Word Count: 4.85k

MASTERLIST

Many mistakes begin with a poorly timed question. There is no more obvious rendition of this tired trope than a book chosen at random from the romance section of a bookstore.

So often had it happened, where the hero seals his own fate by misunderstanding the weight of his words. Whether he had been the one asking or the one being asked, it always ended with tragedy reminiscent of the Greek Gods.

I knew I would be that hero from the moment I saw my heroine sitting lonely at the cafe on the corner. Her eyes, half-lidded but filled with yearning, remain affixed on the empty chair across from her.

The place was packed with busy bodies, but she seemed so still. It was as if an oil painting of Aphrodite had come to life and left her without her other.

Perhaps it was just the foolhardy romantic in me, but I found that a woman waiting for nothing to arrive was a bit too tragic with Valentine’s Day only one night away.

“Are you waiting for someone?” I had asked.

Those eyes that had been lost resurfaced. They’d turned to me with a dreamy sigh and a demure charade to hide the deviance hidden betwixt the words.

“No, I wasn’t,” she had purred, “but now I’m hoping you’ll ask me to stay.”

Who was I to deny Cupid’s arrow, no matter how poorly timed? Was it chauvinistic to want to save her from solitude when she was so clearly aware of her own tragedy? She had not been a woman who needed to be saved. But she had wanted someone to try.

Try, I had. We spoke until long past the flickering of shy streetlights. I’d watched the sun set behind her, casting its halo as her backdrop. The jealous star had burned twice as beautifully in an effort to outshine her. When it had finally accepted defeat and gave in to the night, she also had to take her leave.

It had only been a few hours. It was only a few hours before the day of the lovers’ feast. I’d spent the afternoon fantasizing about an alternate reality where I could let myself be consumed by her. I had trailed behind her, her Icarus chasing what felt both unattainable and inevitable.

When she had leaned forward to kiss me, wax wings turned to a puddle at my feet. I had been trapped in place, powerless to her as she kissed me again, and again, and again. I fell for her then, with no reservations.

The chilly February air had presented the perfect contrast to her warmth. Her scorching lips were still soft. I had felt the intensity growing stronger with each meeting of our lips. When she had shyly asked for entrance, I had given it without hesitation.

Like the fools in every Greek tragedy, we plummeted swiftly into the inferno of lust. Cupid had claimed another victim, but I hadn’t been able to find a reason to resist her.

It was inevitable, after all. Fated by Eros himself.

Yet I’d been surprised that she’d lingered when her had chariot arrived.

Still sporting that intoxicating stare, she had asked, “Are you coming?”

So many mistakes begin just like that.

“I-I just met you,” I’d answered honestly, “I’ve uh… I’ve never done this before.”

She’d tipped her head back and laughed. It had hurt less than I would have expected. How could it, when the sound had been so beautiful?

“Oh, honey, I know,” she’d giggled, “But don’t worry, I’ve done it enough for the both of us.”

The animal in me trembled as it puffed it’s chest at the taunt.

“Is that supposed to be attractive? Because it is,” I’d laughed.

It had been enough of a yes for her. She took my hand in hers and began leading me away from the remnants of wax wings that I no longer needed. Like them, I’d shed my insecurities in exchange for a promise of a bed less painfully empty.

“Really? Not worried about where you’ll end up on the rankings?” she’d snickered.

“Terrified, actually.”

She had paused before she could climb into the backseat. She’d turned to me with an overwhelming, paradoxical nature. Still somehow seeming shy, she’d tugged me forward until her lips ghosted over my ear.

“Good boy,” she’d whispered, “you’ll be on your best behavior, then.”

And I had tried. I’d tried with everything I had to please her any way that she would let me. We had remained tangled together from the moment we’d crossed the threshold to her hotel room until long after the clock had struck midnight.

She had been every bit as idyllic as I’d expected. My shy seductress with her eyes full of wonder and ambrosia spilling from her lips. I had worshipped her like Aphrodite herself, and like her devout followers, I felt no shame in my own humility.

But as the sun peeked through thin veils, I knew that reality had persisted. The jealous sun rose and shone brightly as it sought to reveal the aftermath of a night with a goddess.

I woke to an empty bed and the distant sound of the shower. The feeling of regret was nonexistent up until I heard the raucous reminder of exactly what day it has been.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

At first, I thought about ignoring the call. I considered the most cowardly option of not alerting Penelope Garcia of my indiscretions. If I simply didn’t answer, maybe it would spare me some of the humiliation.

Of course, that also risked her searching the location of my cell phone, which would take her approximately fifty five seconds to do. If she were to do that, I feared that the moment she discovered I was in a hotel room a couple blocks from my apartment, she might come kick my ass herself.

I knew I had to be brave. I had to tell Penelope the truth that, despite her kindness in finding some poor woman who would put up with me on Valentine’s Day, I had to cancel.

I had to cancel because I had made the truly heinous, foolish mistake of a one-night stand on February 13th.

Without allowing myself to dwell on my idiocy any longer, I picked up the phone and spoke as quickly and quietly as I could.

“Penelope, I have to cancel.”

“What?!” she shouted back.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to interject, but she shouted over me with a contained fury, “Reid, what the hell are you talking about? You can’t cancel, the date is tonight!”

When I didn’t answer, she continued—much louder— “It’s Valentine’s Day! The day of love, Cupid’s birthday, the holiest of Hallmark holidays, the day on which we agreed that you would come with me on a double date with a woman I very carefully chose specifically for you!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry just—.”

I stopped as soon as the shower had. The sweet sound of her humming in delight caused butterflies to roar in my chest before they were caught in the vortex of anxiety that was beginning to peak.

“I have to go,” I rushed, but she hasn’t understood.

“Damn right you do!”

“No! I meant I have to get off the phone. I can’t go tonight,” I repeated.

On the other end of the phone, Penelope remained blissfully unaware of my predicament.

“Reid, if you abandon me on my favorite day and leave me to pick up the pieces of this poor girl’s broken heart, I am never going to personally make sure that—!”

The door opened.

“I’ll call you back,” I said before hanging up.

Despite the obvious fear plastered on my face and coursing through my veins, my Aphrodite strolled past me with a wave of her hand.

“You’re bad at whispering,” she droned.

I hadn’t exactly been trying to, but I realized that actually just made me seem worse, so I didn’t dare correct her. Instead, I just watched her nonchalantly drop the towel from her naked body.

I was so distracted by her beauty in the morning light that I almost missed when she spoke again.

“Also, relax,” she sighed, “I already have plans today, so I’m not interested in whatever you were planning.”

Perhaps I had been wrong about how it would feel to be struck through the heart by Eros. I had thought it felt like sweet torture, but in that moment, any remnant of sweetness turned to bitter waves in my stomach.

“Oh, okay,” I muttered.

I’d tried—and failed—to hide my disappointment. In a way, I think she was doing the same.

I thought about saying something, anything to prolong my time with her. I looked at her again. Just the same as the day before, the sun hung behind her and made her appear like a vision from the heavens. She glanced at me over her shoulder as she tried to collect her clothing scattered on the floor.

I opened my mouth to ask her if she was sure she’d wanted me to leave when she still looked so tragic.

The words never made their way through my lips. They died on my tongue the second that she spoke.

“Do you need me to order you a cab?” she asked.

So many mistakes had started just like that.

The walk home to my apartment had been a grueling endeavor. Partially because of the vengeful wrath of Penelope Garcia in my ear, but mostly because I couldn’t help but feel that I’d made the most horrible mistake by accepting her invitation to leave.

It would have been rude to overstay my welcome, of course. But there was something about the way she’d looked at me as we had stood at her door.

I’d expected her to shut it in my face, but she hadn’t. In fact, before I had departed for likely the last time, she had taken the time to press a lingering kiss to my burning cheek.

“If you ever work up the nerve…” she’d whispered, “I’ll be waiting.”

The nerve for what, though? The question had haunted me the whole day. I feared it might haunt me forever.

But this had hardly been an opportune time and place to ponder and yearn for another woman. There, in a beautiful restaurant on Valentine’s Day, with two close friends and waiting on a woman whose heart I was fully prepared to break.

My own heart pounded with the anticipation of the disappointment. I carried my own heartbreak in a lead arrow that would surely drive everyone away.

I knew when she’d arrived because I could hear Penelope’s excitement from across the table. She nearly leapt from her chair to greet my date.

By contrast, my eyes stayed fixated on her feet. That was, until Penelope said something that seemed impossible.

“(Y/n),” she said so simply, as if it hadn’t been an earth-shattering revelation. “This is Spencer. Spencer, this is…”

My Aphrodite, my damsel, my greatest desire and my greatest regret. I stared at her with wide eyes and a dropped jaw that floundered rather than spoke.

“(Y/n),” I muttered when my mouth managed to make words.

She smiled.

Then, as if no part of this was strange or fateful, she continued, “It’s so nice to meet you, Spencer.”

Each step of her perfectly polished heels felt like a knife to my heart. When she took the seat beside me, her perfume hit me the same as her lips against my cheek that morning.

I was so stunned, I couldn’t even breathe. I was waiting for everyone to reveal that this had all been a twisted joke they were all in on.

She seemed so… calm. So prepared to pretend. I wondered how I’d ever thought of her as a damsel. If anything, in that moment, she was more of a villain.

The wrath of Aphrodite came with a quirk of her lips and her hand resting gently on my forearm.

“You know, Spencer…”

How cruel it was, the sound of my name on her lips at a time when I could not kiss them.

“Penelope told me you got cold feet this morning.”

“Uh,” I blabbered. My eyes darted up and down from her hand to her eyes.

I tried to find a way to pretend. It seemed so futile. From the corner of my eye, I saw Luke’s eyes expertly navigating the tumultuous waves between the two of us.

It would only take one poorly worded statement, one question, one answer—one mistake—and he would know the truth.

Assuming he hadn’t already.

“It’s nothing,” I said as confidently as I could, “I uh… It had nothing to do with you.”

Great job. Super convincing.

The bustling sounds of the restaurant felt overwhelming, but still nowhere near as deafening as the way she giggled under her breath. She took her time slowly dragging her hand down my arm until it finally fell away.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said with a sigh. “I would hate to have ruined such a wonderful evening.”

Of course, she hadn’t. I had. I had become so consumed with the weight of my feelings for her that the mask I would’ve worn was heavier than any lead arrow that Eros might craft.

Even when Penelope and Luke tried so hard to help her maintain the facade that any of this was normal, I remained stubbornly stuck to the truth.

There was a goddess beside me with revenge to exact on the man who thought himself worthy of worshipping her. And, my god, she knew how to make a man suffer and squirm beneath her heel.

She didn’t even need to touch me to make my body react. Her voice alone was enough to cause goosebumps to ripple over my skin. I nearly dropped my fork against the ceramic from the shock of her speaking so boldly.

“So, Spencer, what do you like to do for fun?”

“I don’t have fun,” I answered immediately.

Just like she had the night before, she tipped her head back and laughed. She bared her neck to me and I tried not to think about how it felt against my lips. I tried to drown out the memory of her calling my name with a trembling timbre.

“Really?” she said between chuckles, “So no crazy late nights with people you’ve just met?”

Instead of answering, I just stared at her as I took a long drink of water. I didn’t bother pleading with her because I knew it wouldn’t work. My gaze was not made of saccharine attempts to please her into showing me mercy. It was heavy and filled with the rocks now lining my stomach.

Underneath the table, hidden from prying eyes, that damned woman punished my insubordination by running her foot up my leg.

I jumped hard enough that I bashed my knee against the table. It backfired—or rather, worked exactly as she’d intended it to—when she took the opportunity to rest a warm, gentle palm against my thigh.

“Are you alright?” she asked, still smiling.

“Yes. A-And the answer to your question is… no. No, I-I don’t do that.”

Smooth.

Smooth like the supple skin of her thighs as she perched herself against my hips. Stinging like the drag of her nails down my back.

I had to stop picturing her naked when her hand was on my thigh.

From the other side of the table, Penelope and Luke broke free from each other and attempted to dissipate the awkwardness ensuing between my Aphrodite and I.

At least, I would like to think Penelope had good intentions. Then again, I had scorned her first thing in the morning while still laying in a hotel room with the most beautiful manifestation of God.

“He says that,” Penelope ushered with an excited and accusatory hand gesturing wildly to me, “but he’s definitely kissed both a movie star and a serial killer, so…”

Yeah. She was pissed.

“Garcia!” I pleaded because I thought she might show me mercy.

She didn’t.

“Stop being weird and I’ll stop saying embarrassing things. Like this one time—!”

Thankfully, though, Luke was familiar with the wrath of women and had no problem neutralizing both threats with a simple question.

“(Y/n),” he called, “what about you? What do you like to do?”

Unfortunately, poorly timed questions never boded well for me.

“Most of my time alone is spent at local places,” she answered.

The truth. The terrifying, dangerous truth.

“I meet the most interesting people,” she sighed.

I could feel it on my skin. Not literally, but figuratively. What I could feel literally, was the way she gripped my thigh tighter until her nails could make marks to match the others she left behind in her wake.

I nearly whimpered. I swallowed it with a bite of food that could never taste as good as her. I had abandoned all hope of Luke not figuring out what was happening. Judging by the shit-eating grin he sported, he had probably known from the moment she’d arrived.

I was in full blown damage control, and absolutely none of it was working.

She was, though. She was working so hard at ensuring my downfall would come swiftly and in the most embarrassing manner.

“For example, yesterday, I met the most beautiful man, and he…”

With a sigh of defeat and absolutely no self-preservation, I groaned, “I’m not going to like this story, am I?”

“Why?” she snickered. She had this glimmer in her eye as she removed her hand from my thigh. “Which part are you worried about?”

She’d won. She knew she had won.

Penelope’s patience snapped like a twig beneath a boulder.

“If one of you beautiful, infuriating people doesn’t explain to me what the hell is going on at my dinner table right now, I’m gonna lose it!”

That dastardly goddess turned to me and smiled. I stared at the ceiling and prayed for a miracle.

I got Luke instead.

“These two already know each other,” he explained very gracefully with a wave of his fork in our general direction. When Penelope still didn’t understand what he was saying, he clarified, “They know each other… very well.”

“Actually, we just met last night,” I corrected.

It had been in the spirit of my incessant need to ruin everything.

“That’s definitely not what he meant,” explained my Aphrodite, who had apparently decided to join in on the celebration of my descent into madness and debauchery.

“I know,” I sighed.

As soon as I looked at the woman beside me, I couldn’t help but drown in the residual feelings left behind from Cupid’s bow. I looked at her, dressed beautifully for what she must’ve thought was another man. I thought about how her beauty never waned, only altered in its theme.

She was still smiling. I wondered how much of it had been driven by her adversarial teasing. I would be lying if I said I’d hadn’t sensed the competitive spirit in her the day before.

After all, Aphrodite could be jealous and petty. She could be vindictive and clever and, when she wanted to be, she could be human. Those were the moments where I would love her the most. The quiet vulnerabilities and wordless exchanges in the middle of the modern warfare that was a double date with an established couple on Valentine’s Day.

I’m the midst of my internal monologue of adoration for the woman, I heard a sharp, scandalous gasp come from across the table.

Followed by a salacious whisper from my Aphrodite.

“Oops.”

“Spencer!” Penelope screeched in a failed whisper, “Why the hell would you sleep with someone the night before your very thoughtful friend sets you up on a blind date?!”

Before I could respond, the woman beside me held her hand to her chest in feigned disbelief as she sarcastically cried, “Really, how awful.”

I couldn’t help but voice the obvious, despite Luke warning me not to with a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Why are you only asking me?!”

Mistake.

As the only merciful one remaining, Luke chimed in with a desperate attempt to save me from being devoured for dessert.

“He’s got a point. Not sure I’m meant to believe he was the Casanova here.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Normally, it might wound my pride, but in that moment I was willing to slaughter the beast inside me for any freedom from my current, personally crafted hell.

“No offense, Reid,” Luke managed through his lighthearted laughter. Then, he turned to the beautiful goddess beside me and offered more bashfully, “A-And no offense to you, ma’am, you’re just uh… a little intimidating.”

To her, it was the highest compliment a man could give.

“Thank you,” she purred.

I took the concession and tried to wield it as both shield and sword.

“Yes! What Luke said!” I squeaked, instinctively leaning away from her when she swayed closer. As if proximity made her more powerful, because it did. I could practically feel the warmth emitting from her. I could smell the champagne on her breath as it mixed with her perfume. My olfactory organs failed me, clinging instead to the memory of her and the way it both calmed and excited me.

Snap out of it!

“She’s the one who asked me to go to her hotel room! Ask her!”

The accused raised her hand further to cover her treacherous lips and she mimicked Penelope’s gasp. Behind lithe fingers, I saw how she still smiled.

“You can’t just ask a woman why she has sex with someone, Spencer,” she chastised playfully, “I wouldn’t answer such an impertinent question anyway, I’m a proper lady.”

For the first time of the night, I laughed. It was a loud, bitter, uncontrollable sound immediately followed by something we both knew was true.

“Oh, you are not—!”

Unfortunately (and fortunately), I wasn’t able to finish the thought because Penelope’s clutch whacked the words out of me.

“Stop it!” she scolded before bringing it down on my head for a second time.

“Ow! Why are you hitting me?!” I whined.

“Don’t slut shame her!”

Fair point.

“You should only be so lucky!” she huffed.

Then, in the spirit of the continued chaos that had led to basically everyone in the room staring at us slack jawed and fascinated, Luke decided to throw all caution and good will to the wind.

“It seems like he was that lucky,” he chuckled.

It earned us two whacks each.

We looked at each other and tried to stifle the laughter. From beside me, I heard my partner in crime snickering along with us.

Worth it, I thought.

Worshipping her was always worth whatever punishment would come.

“You two— Ugh!” she groaned in disgust as she finally took her seat. Defeated, she stubbornly remained angry only at the two of us who really should have known better. “You have ruined my plans to make these two fall in love. I hope you’re happy.”

Raising a celebratory glass to perfectly painted lips, my Aphrodite smirked.

“I’m having a great time,” she said dreamily.

Then, to make it absolutely clear that she had only been teasing for the drama of it all, she cheekily whispered to me, “Had fun last night, too.”

Penelope watched the scene unfold with an apathy that was so unlike her. It was if her excitement from her plan having worked—albeit in an unexpected way—had canceled out her anger.

In the end, she had nothing left to say but, “You two deserve each other.”

I turned to the woman in question at the same time she turned to me. I was immediately caught in the inferno of lust and adoration in her eyes. The flames felt all consuming. The longer I looked at her, the harder I fell. If I hadn’t been sitting, I’m certain I would have fallen to my knees trembling.

She knew it, too. That’s why when she smiled, it was softer and more genuine than the rest.

“There are worse fates,” she hummed.

She would know. Aphrodite was familiar with the Fates.

I, on the other hand, was a mere mortal who had sacrificed almost everything he had. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, and an overwhelming desire to kiss the goddess hidden in plain sight, I had to test my torturer one more time.

“Does this mean I can leave now?” I asked.

That time when Penelope raised her hand towards me, it was firmly grasping a knife that was pointed straight at me.

“No, you’re going to sit here and be respectful and eat your damn cake!”

Just once more.

“… She started it.”

“Eat your damn food!”

So, we did. We ate our food with calmer heads. Throughout the meal, the distance between each half of the couples diminished. Eventually, I’d even managed to summon up the courage to accept a perfectly manicured hand resting against my palm.

That night ended in an eerily familiar way. Once Penelope and Luke had abandoned us in the night, only the two of us remained. The streetlights shone down on Aphrodite in a pathetic attempt at mirroring the relationship between the sun and the moon.

She just stood there, still tragic, still beautiful. She looked off at the blanket of darkness to find any sign of stars fighting against the man made mimicries of their wonder.

I wondered if her soul seemed so sad because she had missed laying alongside the universes. I had been so enraptured by the theory that when she addressed me, I’d jumped.

“So, Spencer…”

“I’m sorry,” I replied immediately. What for? It didn’t seem to matter. I had been sorry. I was sorry for not having asked to stay.

She laughed and my heart shivered at the sound. I watched how her whole body relaxed as the joy fell from her lips.

Don’t think about kissing her.

But oh, how I wanted to.

“Please, Spencer, that was the most entertaining Valentine’s date I’ve ever been on, by far,” she said between wonderful sounds, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Oh, good,” I strained nervously, “I had fun, too.”

A lie, but she already knew that.

“No, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

But we still could.

“What I was going to ask was…” she trailed off. She turned to reveal a wicked smile and provocative eyes that would forever render me helpless. “You are coming home with me, right?”

All the fight left me at once. I surrendered myself to her. My head and shoulders fell with a wave of relief.

“Oh, thank god, I thought you’d never ask.”

Thank Goddess, I corrected myself. But she had already known that, too.

“Were you really planning on leaving me alone on Valentine’s Day?” she teased. She swayed closer to me until the floral scent of sweetness felt almost suffocating. The intoxicating taste of ambrosia, the indulgence of her lips haunted me still.

I fought past the lowered inhibition and overwhelming lust to offer her a more genuine vulnerability.

“Well, I uh… I found someone else I wanted to spend the day with, but she kicked me out of her hotel room.”

She accepted the piece of my heart with a godlike grace. She took my hand in hers and rested a weary head against my shoulder.

It had been soft. There was no ulterior motive in the movement. She had simply wanted to be closer to me, and I had offered her a place to perch among the mortal coil.

I thought of how different it had been from that morning. Even more so, I thought of how it had been exactly like the night before.

“Did you know it was me?” I asked.

She wordlessly tilted her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes.

“I just figured you might’ve heard me say Penelope’s name.”

After a quiet, saturnine moment, she confessed in a whisper, “No, I didn’t.”

My heart sunk in my chest, if only for a moment. Like she was so loath to do, my Aphrodite willed her way into my heart and held it up with strong yet quivering hands.

“But I was hoping that you would ask me to stay.”

It was soft. It was fated. It was human.

That time, we opted not to take the chariot. Together we ventured through the concrete jungles and climbed Mount Olympus. We sought comfort in each other through the trials and tribulations that was our blasphemous feelings.

We worshipped each other in Eros’s name and never stopped to think about what would happen in the morning.

I realized that it was true that many mistakes began with a poorly timed question. But it was not the question itself, it was the timing that mattered most.

So when the time was perfect, when the sun served as her backdrop and the intoxication from Cupid’s bow had finally subsided, I would ask her again.

I would ask her to stay.

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Masterlist here!

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader

472 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 2 months

Note

it's ☃️ here again and I have more questions but reverb edition bc I love how 3 dimensional the characters are...

1. Now what is rapper!connie's true IDEALL type (if he actually has one). like he's immediately folding and falling to his knees because she's everything he wants type shit.

2. Do any of the pole assassins ladies swing the other way perchance...? IDK if you mentioned this but i'm getting a vibe...perchance.

3. What are mika and jean's favorite things about one another?

4. How would eren react to being posted on the shaderoom and having them get in his business? I recently saw a video of summer walker flipping the shaderoom off and I screamed 😭😭

5. IDK if you didn't go into detail but is sasha an influencer here as well or an artist?

6. Does eren like any other forms of art besides music/writing in this universe? I don't feel EJ is the type to like go walk a museum (or maybe he is) but I feel he definitely holds some appreciation for like visual arts yk??

7. Is influencer!y/n any good at games? I remember you mentioning him being a gamer and I had the idea of him teaching her to play madden or COD or some shit and her being sooo bad to the point where he gets a little upset bc no way you're this bad at the game.

once again that is all the questions my brain has come up with, until next time *fades off into background*

hello again, snowanon!! 🤍 I swear you always come with the best asks. I’m actually working on reverb right now so thanks for this! (sorry these took so long btw!)

1. now Connie isn’t the type of dude to discriminate when it comes to the ladies. He loves them all but he will undoubtedly fall in love (and maybe propose on the spot) for a tall women or BBW. he loves him a girl who’s taller than him or a plus size lady. I’d say his range is anywhere from Meg to Lizzo. But he really just a loves a woman who can make him laugh. Somebody he can clown with.

2. Yes 3/5 do in fact! 😭 our girl (y/n) is bisexual. Eren is honestly the only man she loves. Niesha is pansexual + Syrai is lesbian. Kelley and Brianne have only ever dated men but they’re not against the idea of being with a woman!

3. omg I literally love these two so much and I hadn’t had a chance to elaborate yet but Jean and Mika are each other’s saving graces, dramatic as it sounds. Jean helped Mika stand up for herself when she felt powerless and she helped him realize his dream and that he was worth more than being on the sidelines. I think Jean’s favorite thing about Mika is her determination and how smart she is. If she wants something done, nothing can stop her. She’s headstrong but she’s soft in the same turn. Not in a weak way or that she wants to be babied but she’s so compassionate and emotional about the things + people she loves. As for Mika, she loves how much of a natural leader Jean is. He’s dominating but in the best way possible. He knows she can handle her own business but she doesn’t have to when he’s around. She can be comfortable in her feminine energy without feeling weak. All in all, they just compliment one another so well!

4. LMAO! the day Eren ever ends up on the ShadeRoom, everybody’s getting their feelings hurt. 😭 what makes it so bad is that it would probably be for some dumb shit, like them trying to messy about he and (y/n)’s relationship and now he gotta cuss everybody and their family dog out :(

5. so the next few chapters are going to feature Sasha heavily but my baby is actually Mikasa’s assistant for the time being. Her ultimate goal is to do music, more so as like a country hip-hop artist. She’s basically mentoring under her and Jean both.

6. Eren does have a great appreciation for other art forms. He has a few unique and expensive paintings in his home and he himself loves to draw. Many of his tattoo pieces are artworks of his. He also enjoys stage plays, shockingly! (he’s really a theater kid cosplaying as a delinquent, don’t let him fool you 😭😭) but he enjoys reading from time to time as well.

7. okay listen! my sis be giving it her all to beat this man LMAO. Eren is so damn competitive that he can’t just play shit for fun, he makes everyone want to fight him. But the one game he does NAWT want to see her in is Tekken. That’s been her favorite series since she was a kid and she gives him the work every single time.

75 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 8 days

Text

TheGeneral!Series Part Three: Choices

Tagging: @kmc1989 @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 '@crimeshowjunkie @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @dizzybee03 @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @marshmallowflufffox @whateversomethingbruh @4everademigod @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis @silversprings-mp3 @sadboihours10101 @luckyladycreator2 @littlebadarielll @toheavenwmydrms @buckysteveloki-me @emma-dawson

Beau doesn’t sleep. Instead he lies awake next to you and fantasises about the ways in which he can murder General Klein and get away with it. Each one becomes increasingly more violent until the clock hits four am and he forces himself up and out of the sheets.

His body moves on automatic, putting the laundry into the machine, throwing away the trash, washing the dishes. It feels like he’s in a dream, a horrifying, maddening dream.

When you come out the bedroom, you’re clad his hoody, the one that he was wearing last night. He knows it brings you comfort so he doesn't say anything.

Last night was the first time you’d acknowledged what happened to you, the first time you’d talked about it. It had been like a dam breaking. All that rage, that hurt, that devastation it flooded out of you in a rush. You'd cried yourself to sleep, your entire body tucked against his.

Your hair is still damp from the shower, it falls loosely across your features as you slide into the stool across from him at the breakfast island, your chin coming to rest on your arms. He mirrors your posture, his eyes on yours.

“What do you want to do?” He asks you and you bury your face into your arms. “Ok, well you can’t do that forever.”

“I can.” You tell him and he smiles just a little because this behaviour, it’s the first glimpse he’s seen of the real you since arriving in Washington.

“Ok so we stay here and we do this forever.” He says softly. “Just me and you in this kitchen, fuck anybody else.”

You huff out a laugh and it is the sweetest sound.

You tilt you head up to look at him and he busies himself with putting the kettle on and withdrawing two mugs from the cupboard. He makes a note to go shopping later on because there’s barely any food in the cupboards, he guesses you’ve barely been out of the apartment since it happened. That and the anxiety would explain the weight you’ve lost.

“If I do this.” You say, fingers toying with the bracelet on your wrist. “Then everybody will know what he did to me, they’ll never look at me the same way.”

Beau sighs as he pours the water from the kettle into each of the mugs, he’s chosen chamomile tea, something to sooth both your nerves.

“If you don’t do this, you’re facing up to ten years confinement and you’re life falls apart in a different way.” He says frankly as he sets the mug down in front of you. “You can’t get the help you need, you have no job, everything else you’ve worked so hard for…”

He trails off because he worries that he’s being too harsh but the truth is you need to see the reality of this situation. This isn’t going away and the longer you try to ignore it, the worse it gets.

“I will support you whatever you choose to do.” He tells you, slipping back into the stool across from you. You wrap your hands around your mug, your gaze coming fixating on the steam as it emits from the liquid. “If you want to fight this I’m game, if it’s too much, then I’m here too. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“What I want is for none of this to have ever happened.” You tell him, your thumbs chasing over the floral pattern on the porcelain.

“But it did happen.” He says gently, his hands coming to rest on yours. “And we need to start dealing with that.”

“I know.” You say quietly, your eyes flickering up to meet his. “That’s why I need you to call Harm. I need him to come over and take my statement.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #beau cyclone simpson #beau cyclone simpson x reader #top gun maverick

42 notes · View notes

jerzwriter · 3 months

Text

A Tipsy Winter's Tale...

Oh, @annoyingmillenialnewbie! Just three words, and I knew exactly where I wanted to go with this! I hope it's what you hoped for as well! From this three-word ask.

Book: Crimes of Passion Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Rating: Teen Warning: Drinking Words: 995 Summary: When Trystan & Carolina take a tipsy stroll through a snowy Central Park, who will have to reel the other in? A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 9 Frostbite (almost)

Carolina was doing her best not to fall as she ran down a snowy slope in New York’s famed Central Park. Of course, ‘ran’ may have been a bit of an exaggeration. Given the snow and copious amounts of wine she had taken in that evening, stumbling may have been more accurate. But all things considered, it was miraculous that she was standing at all. The only thing more miraculous was that Trystan standing, too. Not only was he standing, but the man seemed to fly. No matter how hard Carolina tried, she could not keep up with him.

“Trystan Thorne!” she hollered before tripping over a cluster of snow-covered bushes. “Trystan, wait for me! Where are you going?”

But he was already far ahead, and her irritation was inching up along with the snow totals. Looking down at her feet, she cursed her decision to wear these shoes. Who is stupid enough to wear high heels when the forecast calls for snow?. She wondered as she debated what would be worse... frostbitten toes or not catching up to Trystan. In her state of inebriation, she believed that the latter would be a far worse fate. That’s how her red suede Steve Madden pumps ended up abandoned somewhere between the Bow Bridge and Bethesda Fountain. It would make several joggers wonder what the story was there as they zipped by in the morning, but for now, she was just worried about getting through tonight.

Exhaustion was setting in, and she slowed her pace from a run to a jog until she stalled with an exasperated groan. “Trystan! Please wait!”

It was please that did it. Even intoxicated, Trystan Thorne would stop the world if he felt his love needed assistance. Winded and with his cheeks red, he turned around to find her staggering behind.

“Come on, Carolina,” he pleaded. “Don’t you want to see the fountain?”

“The fountain? I’m a New Yorker, Trystan. I’ve seen the fountain a thousand times.”

“But not in the snow,” he simpered.

“Yes,” she laughed, finally coming within several yards of him. “Even in the snow.”

But just when she thought the wayward prince was within her reach, he took off on foot again.

“For the love of...” she took off after him. Her feet were freezing, but she wouldn’t realize that until sobriety reappeared, and if there was any doubt that that moment was still far off, it was erased when Trystan began climbing over the edge into the basin of the Bethesda Fountain.

“TRYSTAN!” She admonished, her patience all but gone. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I want to see the fountain!” he complained. “Why isn’t it on?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because it’s 30 degrees and snowing in January! That might have something to do with it!”

He continued his walk to the center of the fountain, almost near the Angel of the Waters statue, when he declared, “New Yorkers are weak! In Drakovia, the fountain would be on.”

“Yes,” Carolina rolled her eyes. “Drakovia is so tough that even its waters defy the laws of physics.”

But Trystan couldn't hear her; he was too busy frantically searching around the statue’s base. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The switch! To turn this on!”

“There is no switch! The fountain is not going on!”

Defiant, he stomped a foot. “Then I’ll make a fountain of my own!”

He reached down, grabbing as much freshly fallen snow as he could, and tossed it in the air. He ran in circles, slipping and falling throughout but constantly tossing snow as he did. A string of curses from the two languages she spoke fell from Carolina’s lips.

“¿Qué carajo es esto?” She swore as she hopped over the ledge and joined Trystan inside the fountain. “Trystan!” She huffed, bumbling through the snow. “Trystan! No! You have to stop! If you get arrested for this, it will reflect badly on the agency! Mafalda will kill you!”

Trystan’s eyes lit up, his lips curling into a mischievous grin when his Carolina was finally within arms reach.

“You’re right,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the ground. “If we’re going to sully the agency’s reputation, it should be for a much better reason than this!”

Landing on her back, Carolina attempted to jump back on her feet, but then she felt his weight up on her, his arms surrounding her, and just like that, the rest of the world disappeared. All that existed was the two of them, faces glowing in the dim moonlight, then his lips... his searing warm lips were on hers. She clutched his hair in her hands, pulling him in deeper, the heat between a direct contrast to the bitter cold they found themselves in. But when he started to tug at her buttoned coat, Carolina was ushered back to reality.

“OK, babe,” she giggled, pushing him away. “We’re both drunk, but thankfully, I’m sober enough to know that if we do it here, we’re going to lose our genitals to frostbite... and I think we might want to use them again in the future.”

“But Carolina,” he groaned. “This is on my bucket list?”

Carolina hopped onto her feet, extending her hand to help her disheveled lover up.

“Hon, if having sex in the Bethesda Fountain, in the snow, is on your sexual bucket list, we may need to revisit that list when we’re sober.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled. “Besides, I should take you home and warm you like the gentleman I am.”

“I'm not opposed to that,” she smiled, kissing him again.

With his arm draped over her shoulder, they began to make their way out of the fountain when Trystan noticed her bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

Carolina looked down in astonishment, then laughed. “Honestly, I don't remember!”

“Well, we can’t have this!” He said, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her in his arms.

“Trystan,” she giggled. “You can’t carry me the entire way home like this?”

“Wanna bet?” He grinned.

Carolina nuzzled her head, starting to pound ever so slightly into his neck. “They really shouldn’t let out alone, unsupervised. Don’t you agree?”

“Without question,” he grinned. “But where would the fun be in that.”

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #trystan thorne #trystan throne x mc #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play

63 notes · View notes

hyatoro · 11 months

Note

Hi hi! Sorry for not being specific enough about my rq for August's NSFW hcs! I read the rules again and can you please do nsfw hcs of august with a service dom!reader? Very heavy on praising and worshipping August's body,always reminding him he's beautiful and commenting on his pretty expressions when they're having sex <33

Hop this is specific enough :))

Also,can I go by AM Anon? Im always forgetting what emojis I use for anon and i think letters can work better for me 😭

All good. Glad you came back! And of course you can be AM Anon.

I’m going to focus on Post-story August for this since he’s that much more fun with his battle scars and all.

Augustine Carver

He was always built, but you could tell that he put on even more muscle during his time at war. The first time he strips for you he’s hesitant, knowing that such scars aren’t ideal for noble men like him.

He trusts you with his whole heart but that little voice nagging in the back of his head lingers y’know?

His obedience for you is up there however and it overpowers his hesitance when you tell him to undress for you.

His bedroom was familiar, having grown up his whole life there, but when you stand over him with your hungry eyes it’s like you took over his space entirely. Which he would absolutely arrange should you desire it.

August sits bare on the edge of his plush bed, eyes flickering towards the ground while he straightens his back.

Your precious boy is so nervous.

Whatever maddening voices that echo in his head, telling him to hurry and cover back up and hide his marred figure were instantly silenced when you cradled his face.

His wide and vulnerable eyes stare at you for further cues.

You simply kiss his forehead tenderly and then his lips. Okay. This was familiar territory. He could do this part. So he kisses you back just as softly, refusing to escalate this himself.

He swallows when you pull back and you tell him to scoot back onto the bed completely. He listens.

You then strip to the same level as him, not leaving him alone in this. And you crawl up to him, legs wrapped around his waist as you take one of his hands and kiss every finger, every knuckle, every callous his hands have.

His breathing gets heavy with emotion.

If you have your own scars from your own endeavors (training to delete the royal couple, etc, etc), he looks at them in mild wonder. You don’t stop him from tracing his hands on them either. It’s only fair. His touches are so soft you take his hand and rest it fully against your skin, reassuring him that you’re very much flesh and not glass.

And then you get to praising him for his efforts during the war, recounting all the stories you’ve gathered of him while he was away. You kiss and caress every single one of them with the same love and adoration as the last.

He’s not outright sobbing, but the steady flow of tears can’t be stopped as he basks in the warmth of your love.

When you tell him all the things you love about him and ask if he agrees he doesn’t say anything. That’s when you start to bully him. Nicely.

You’re loving on him so hard and he’s overwhelmed by your entire being as you ride him.

Augustine hides his face when you mention how pretty he is. His face bursts into flames, as if it wasn’t already red before, and practically whimpers as he hides. Of course you fix that immediately by pulling his arms away. And if you so wish you can even use your shadow magic to restrain his hands from hiding his face. The flushed and teary face on this big buff scarred man makes heat course through you. Fuck he’s so perfect and pretty for you.

You only release him when he promises not to hide, which is hard but he busies himself with touching you too. It’s grounding for him.

He wants to cum. Needs to cum. But you keep bringing him to the brink and back, edging him because he can’t find it in himself to agree with all the wonderful things you’ve said about him. It’s a mix of not believing them and being too shy. Of course he’s not accusing you of lying. He’s just. Well. His self esteem isn’t as high as it was before everything had happened. Before he felt unlovable up until you came back into his life.

He does eventually break, frantically crying out all the lovely things you’ve said about him as he begs to cum.

“I’m a good boy! I’m handsome and strong and I deserve so many good things! Please let me cum! Please please please please you said I was good right?! Please let me cum!”

Of course he is, so you do. His body tightens like a bowstring and he convulses as he comes, thanking you for everything.

His face is soaked with tears as he comes down from his high. When you dry his face for him he almost hides his face again, but he promised you so he keeps his hands by his side. You notice and chuckle, telling him that he doesn’t need to keep it up anymore, but also praising him for being so obedient.

Since you gave him the okay he turns his face and hides in his pillow as he calms down from the whole ordeal.

Your shadow magic flickers around the room and gathers things so you can clean the two of you up before snuggling under the covers.

He makes this face where he wants to say something, but instead just goes for it, burying himself into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. You hold him back, squeezing him as tight as you can before snuffing the candles with the shadows.

#Sub!yandere #dom!reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #dom reader #sub yandere #yandere oc #x reader #villainess isekai #villainess isekai oc #SecondMaleLead!Yandere #Augustine Carver #request #AM anon

182 notes · View notes

so-long-soldier-writes · 11 months

Text

Kinks & Cuddles

kol mikaelson x reader

summary: comforting kol after he faces his mother's rage

tags: hurt / comfort, mentions of abuse, cuddling, mild smut, mommy kink, blood drinking / sharing

word count: ~1.6k

note: this is inspired by a michael langdon fic i read years ago. i felt the kink fit kol, too. linked on my ao3 if i can track it down. also, i’m publishing this drunk :)

“Hello, love,” Klaus greets as you enter the mansion, “I assume Rebekah’s called you for the intervention?”

You nod, “is it bad this time?”

“One of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

You purse your lips, wondering how you’ll tackle it.

“Of course,” he continues, “we could just leave him like that. Eventually he’ll snap out of it and go on a killing spree to deal with his emotions instead.”

“No, I’ll get him better before it comes to that. It’ll be okay.”

“Alrighty then. Oh, but Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“He may be hungry. There’s bags in the fridge if you need.”

“Thank you, Klaus.”

“I’m only a phone call away if you need anything.”

After giving him a polite smile, you make your way up the stairs to Kol’s room.

Ever since you’ve started dating, you’ve become more involved in the Mikaelsons’ family business, which, unfortunately, includes their mother’s torment. It isn’t uncommon for the witch to punish them like children, no matter how old they are. Most of it is yelling, but there are times you’ve seen her be more physical, too. Elijah’s the only one who hasn’t been on the receiving end of her, but that’s because he’s never the troublemaker. And while he can often calm her down mid-argument, sometimes, his efforts are futile.

This is one of those times. Yesterday, Esther had gotten so angry at Kol that not even Elijah could stop her rage. You hadn’t been there, but his siblings recounted it to you. He had come back from The Mystic Grill a little drunk and the woman was furious, yelling about how he could’ve attacked someone and wouldn’t have been able to properly heal and compel the person away. Kol tried to defend that he wasn’t that drunk, but the defiance earned him a slap to the face. The boy gave up instantly, retreated to his room, and hadn’t been out since. As for their mother, she had left early in the morning, no note nor anything else. This unpredictability isn’t unusual for her, but it sure is maddening.

After Rebekah and Klaus had searched the entire mansion for their mother and found no trace, they called you. You have become sort of like a guardian angel to the family - saving them on multiple accounts, helping them through tough situations, and comforting them after episodes with their mother. Yes, it’s Kol that you’re dating, but you love the rest of them like siblings.

Their mother, of course, doesn’t know how close you are with the family. There’s no way she would allow it - not for someone to know the family secrets, nor for someone to love Kol the way you do. At the very least, she’d put a boundary spell around the house to prevent your entry; at the worst, she’d set out to kill you. The siblings wouldn’t put it past her.

“Kol?” You ask gently as you reach his door. He only groans, muffled by his pillow, in response. “It’s me, baby. Can I come in?”

“Fine.”

You’re just as quiet about turning the knob and sitting beside him on the bed. “Hey, you.” You brush your finger down his cheek. “You look quite cuddly.”

He doesn’t answer, opting to bury his head deeper into the pillow. His hair rests messily against it, and his eyes are closed. Strong arms keep it in place under his head, and the way that they’re flexed shows off his back muscles, which peek out from under the blanket.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. That’s fine. Is it okay that I sit with you?”

“Yes.”

“Mmkay, good boy.” You murmur, cuddling up beside him. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

He’s quiet for a minute, then asks, “who called?”

“Bex, this time. She’s worried about you.”

“It was her last time.”

“I remember that. And it was you that called me.”

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Why do you always come when we call?”

“Because I love you all,” you reply instantly. “You’re the family I never had. Except for you, though,” you boop his nose, “because I love you in a different way.”

“I love you, too. Hey, um… can you do that thing you were doing last time?”

“What thing?” You try to rack your brains to what you did last time you comforted your boyfriend.

“This.” He haphazardly moved a piece of your hair as an example.

“Ah! Yes, I certainly can.” Immediately, you reach up a hand and pull it through his hair, playing with the locks, and massaging his scalp.

“Thank you. Feels nice.”

“Good. I’m glad. You need anything else?”

“No, just cuddles.”

“Okay.” You smile. Before you know it, you’re both fast asleep.

◇◇◇◇

You’re not sure what woke you up, but some hours later, you’re disturbed from a deep sleep. One of your hands still rests in Kol’s hair, while the other lies under your own cheek. When you open your eyes, though, instead of him being at eye level with you, his head is ducked down to your breasts. Before you can ask anything, you sigh involuntarily as you feel your nipple being tugged between his teeth. His tongue is swirling around your breast, wetting it, and then releasing it to flop back to its sideways position. His head then dips to take it in his mouth again, repeating the process.

As soon as you come to your senses, you try to find your words. “Kol?”

No response.

“You okay, baby?” You run your hand back through his hair.

This seems to wake him up, quickly. He snaps out of an apparent trance, removes his mouth, and refuses to look at you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry, mommy. I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, there,” you hook a finger on his chin, “no apologies, you’re perfectly okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He finally looks up at you, “but I touched you without asking.”

“It’s okay, baby. In fact, I’m glad you found the comfort you needed. That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Not at all. Do you feel better?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Good. Good boy.” His body shivers at the praise. “Do you need-” You stop mid-sentence. “Did you call me ‘mommy’?”

His face pales. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” His head drops back to the sheets in embarrassment, “I don’t remember.”

“Kol…”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh, pumpkin, I could never hate you! Actually, I find it endearing.” He swallows hard enough that you hear it. “Did you mean it?”

His eyes narrow, “Mean it as in…?”

“As like… was that a slip of the tongue, or was it something you’ve wanted to say?”

“I…I…”

“It’s okay, Kol.”

“I meant it.” He wets his lips. “I just… every time you come help me after mother yells at me, you make me feel safe. Like how a mother should. I don’t know why exactly it makes me want to call you that, but… it does.”

You tilt his chin back up again, and this time he obeys, “to make you feel safe and to love you are all I want to do, Kol. And yes, those are jobs your mother should be fulfilling, too, but if she won’t, I’ll gladly take on both roles.”

“Wait, really? It doesn’t bother you?”

“Not at all. And you already know I love it when you suck on my breasts, baby. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you…”

“You can say it.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

“Of course,” you kiss his head, “mommy loves you. She’s here to take care of you. And, speaking of, are you hungry?”

Before he can answer, his grumbling stomach gives him away.

“Ah, so it seems.”

“I don’t want to go downstairs, yet. Please don’t make me.”

“Oh no, no, no, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you do anything, baby. I know what it’s like to be in that kind of headspace, and you really shouldn’t go down there until you’re out of it. Not only do I need to take care of you now, but I have first-hand felt the embarrassment of being in public while in a special headspace, and I don’t want you to go through that, okay? No, we’re gonna stay right here.”

He blinks up at you, wanting to cry at how thankful he is for your understanding, yet having no words to say about it. You catch onto this and kiss his forehead.

“Alright, baby, you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Mmkay, I want you to feed on me, okay?”

“Wait - no, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Kol. I trust you.”

“But-”

“You need to eat, Kol. And I’m not leaving you, nor letting you go down there. Now, come on.” You lift your wrist to his lips.

Slowly, he drags his teeth along your skin, still hesitant.

“Feed, sweetheart.”

He takes a deep breath, then finally pierces his fangs into your skin. You gasp at the feeling, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Good boy, keep going. Keep going.” You play with your hair as you encourage him. “Mommy’s got you. She trusts you.”

After about a minute, the color returns to his face, and he drinks with more confidence. Then, he stops, and immediately bites his own wrist to bring to your lips. You take it, watch your wound heal, and smile up at him.

“Do you feel better?”

“A lot better. Thank you, Y/N, for the blood. And for comforting me. And for loving me. And for, y’know, not making fun of me.”

“I would never make fun of you. Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Do you need anything else?”

“More cuddles?”

“I’d love to.”

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #tvd fanfiction #mommy k!nk

179 notes · View notes

roguelov · 2 years

Text

Consequences

Summary: For nearly half of a year, you had been in a romantic relationship with both Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, and Calliope, a Greek Muse. However, soon, a seed of doubt, insecurity, and jealousy blooms as the two past lovers grow closer and begin to neglect you. So, what will happen when you finally snap?

Word Count: ~3.5k

Reader: Afab!reader

Warning: Smut (edging, dirty talk, oral!receiving, fingering, light choking, possessiveness, minor praise kink), angst (jealousy and mentions of leaving) sprinkled in the beginning, fluff at the end

Note: It can be a part 2 for this, or just a standalone

I’m fine.

I love them each dearly. Nothing will ever change that.

Nothing.

But.

But, do they truly love you the same in return? Do they truly cherish you like you cherish them? Do they spend more time together when you are away? Don’t they share more secrets, share more memories? Do they love each other more -

This new sinister voice drilled question after question into your mind and waning sanity. It filled every crevice, void of love, with doubt and despair. Piece by piece, it sewed its control over you. It whispered its relentless questions, it showed you flashes of scenes and interactions in a new twisted light, it reminded you of the cruel truth.

The truth being: Calliope and Morpheus had a past. A complicated past, yes, but one that was built on a shared love. And although it may have ended messily, they wished to overcome and start again, start new.

With you.

Or you simply forgot that last crucial part.

The first couple of months were picture perfect. It was a new beginning with the two of them and you truly never felt happier, or more alive. With nights spent as a whole trio or with only one, and dates and outings do whatever the day brought. They showered you in affection, they whispered about their combined love, and with time they slowly revealed their shared past and all its secrets, good and bad.

You were thankful that they felt comfortable to do so. Honored, in a way. Yet, the comfort did not last long. Tiny, minuscule, storm clouds began to form over your head. And bit by bit, almost resentful of them, you pulled away. For some reason, they did not reach out farther. They did not pull you back from the edge, they did not see the pain behind your smile, they did not question as you grew more silent and reserved.

They did nothing.

You tried helplessly to push past it, tried to act as if this envious worm, rotten, bitter, and jealous, hasn’t made a residency in your heart.

But, it did.

In passing moments, whether it be in the Waking or the Dreaming, you only saw how they looked to each other. Like gravity they were drawn together, unable to stop it.

You laid awake in the dark, awfully quiet bedroom. Only with your spiraling thoughts to keep you company. It all played on repeat: every scene together, every moment from the beginning of the relationship to its entirety of the past months.

Do you think they are together right now? Do you think Calliope visits the Dreaming when you are away? What would they be doing? What would they be doing without you? Would they -

You flung your pillow at the wall. It didn’t sway or lessen any pain. You wanted objects to shatter, to shatter like how your heart began to crack. You gritted your teeth ready to rip out your hair. It was maddening.

They each have their own lives as do I. You told yourself. I’m busy, they’re busy. And - and -

You screamed.

Why couldn’t these feelings go away?

The storm clouds brewed and festered. A storm - no, a ravenous hurricane would make land soon. You simply hoped you were prepared for the inevitability consequences.

After a few weeks apart, all three of you were united once again. You should be happy, thrilled even, you should be smiling and laughing. Yet, all you could do was grit your teeth, about to crack them, and glower at Calliope and Morpheus.

In your apartment, in your living room, Calliope laid in Morpheus’s arms. Her back pressed into his chest with his arms carefully wrapped around her waist. All the while, you sat on a lone chair. Across the room, far, far away from them.

The tv played random movies all of which were distant static in your ringing ears. Your eyes focused solely on the two of them. You wanted to smile at their smiles, you wanted to laugh at their hushed whispers. You wanted, and wanted, and wanted -

“Does anyone need a drink ro anything?” You asked, nearly biting a hole on the inside of your cheek.

The pair shook their heads, saying their thanks, and stayed clasped in each other’s embrace.

You muttered ‘okay’ and hopped up desperately needing the space.

In your kitchen, you tugged on your hair begging why you felt this way. Why now? Why these constant horrid emotions and thoughts? Why did you clench your jaw at the sight of your two loves? Why did you dig your fingernails into your palm when they giggled together? Why did you want to scream when they shared a smile? Why, why, why -

Laughter, contagious and boisterous, echoed.

Your heart clenched.

Don’t. You’ll only make it worse for yourself. Don’t -

You peered out of the kitchen. Calliope, pressed into Morpheus’s chest, was laughing wholeheartedly throwing herself into him, while Morpheus chuckled lightly; he was more amused by Calliope’s outburst. Sounds, sweet hypnotic sounds, which should have brought a flutter in your heart only grated on your ears. Your face twisted as all the anger you had locked away started to break down the door.

Morpheus dropped his head down, whispering into Calliope’s ear. She laughed more, unable to stifle her giggles.

Red covered your vision.

How dare they.

It was as if you didn’t exist. They were more enraptured with each other than anything else. Almost as if you were nothing, nothing but a mere mortal - a pathetic ant to play with for these two worldly gods.

They clearly didn’t need you. Or want you.

Clearly, they didn’t care.

Jealousy was a wicked vile monster. Anger was her fiery insatiable friend. Together, the two had wound you up for weeks, spewing their truths, and now you could not push them back anymore.

“Am I interrupting?”

Calliope and Morpheus, smiling and cheerful, glanced over to you. You, however, did not share their same smile. Never did.

Calliope blinked, taken back by your seething glare. Sitting up, she turned, looking at you. “What’s the matter, my -“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Your lips twisted into a snarl. How dare she think she can sweeten me over?

Morpheus’s eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. What has stirred such a hateful reaction? He looked to Calliope only to find the same confusion.

“I don’t understand,” Morpheus stated. “What has caused such -“

“How can two gods - or a goddess and some cosmic being, be so dense? Are you not all seeing and all knowing? Or is that only for each other?”

A sliver of the truth hidden behind all your rage.

Calliope could not find the words. Her mouth gaped like a fish on land, shocked by this side of you.

Morpheus, however, responded more coolily, sternly. He slowly rose to his feet, tilting his head back. Summoning all of his regal prestige and power. “Will you tell us what afflicts you, or will you continue to throw a tantrum like a common child?”

“A child?” You gasped; your nails cut into your palm.

“Yes, a child.”

“Morpheus,” Calliope warned. “Let’s not do -“

“Says the being who has told stories of throwing tantrums throughout his entire existence.” You fired back.

Calliope instantly shot up, placing a hand on Morpheus’s chest. She looked at you, frowning. “You must stop this at once. I do not know where this has come from but it ends now.”

You heard none of it. Your eyes locked on her hand on his chest.

She chose him.

They chose each other.

“Well, clearly, you don’t need me,” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air. “I should probably go find someone else then!“

They tensed.

You continued on, fueled by your rage. “Find someone else to care for me and hold me and pleasure me in ways you two have not. Neither of you have even touched me in weeks.” Another truth. But, it was not necessarily their fault, because life had a habit of getting in the way. You simply wanted to hurt them. “Don’t worry, you guys stay here and enjoy yourself, I’ll go out and find someone else.”

The air shifted.

Your anger had spread. It infected.

You glared, wanting some reaction. However, they stood transfixed in place with blank stares. Huffing, you spun on your heel.

So, be it.

Instantly, you smacked into something and stumbled back. Your head snapped up to see Morpheus. His haunting blue eyes bore into you - through you into the deepest parts of you. Your lips thinned as you held his gaze.

He stepped forth.

Instinctively, you stepped back.

Into Calliope.

Her arms wrapped around your waist, trapping you. You tried to squirm free, but Morpheus cleared his throat. You froze. He reached out, with his forefinger and thumb, grabbing your chin and tilted your head back. “Oh no, sweet one,” he whispered, dangerously. “You will not be going anywhere.”

“Really?” You asked, defiantly.

Calliope chuckled in your ear, amused by your act. “Oh, yes.”

You scoffed.

Morpheus’s hands wrapped around your neck, dragging you closer. His lips brushed over yours. He enunciated each word, every syllable, sharply. “You. Are. Staying.”

Fear trickled down your spine, like a wet cloth it doused your fire. Or most of it.

Without warning, Calliope dragged you off. You stumbled, and still contemplated whether to fight back. Yet, as you peered over your shoulder, Morpheus glared unwaveringly at you. You swallowed and became a little more compliant.

In your bedroom, slightly disoriented and muddled with diminishing hateful emotions, Calliope pulled you into a searing kiss. Your knees nearly buckled. You instantly clung to her as she worked her spell over you. Her nimbly fingers grazed over your body, bringing goosebumps in their wake. She quickly discards all of your clothes in a fury, all the while she stayed fully clothed.

Your hands reached out to touch her, to remove her confining layers of clothing when her hands caught your wrists. You blinked, stunned. She simply smirked.

Arms, from behind, wrapped around your waist. Morphues dragged you backwards and down into the bed. With a soft ‘oof’, your back fell into his chest, while he rested on the headboard. Oddly, his clothes also remained on. His plain shirt, usually soft, itched and rubbed against your bare back. His firm arms tightened around your waist, locking you place. He dropped his head, and his lips ghosted over your shoulder. He barely touched you, and yet you complied, giving yourself over completely.

The fire from before, the anger and jealousy vanished, died out, as you were at their mercy, and you didn’t mind.

At least for now.

Calliope, however, remained at the end of the bed. Her soft hands danced over your legs. You peered down at her, nervous and giddy. She smiled sweetly, yet her eyes twinkled with sinister intentions. Her hands spread your legs apart. Her smile widened. You were dripping. Barely minutes in and you were already like this.

“My love,” she purred.

You shivered.

Dropping to her knees, she planted feather-like kisses on the inside of your thighs. You sighed dreamily, closing your eyes. Quickly, like a switch, her delicate kisses shifted, more sinful, more demanding. She nipped and bit, marking every inch - bruising you. You gasped, your legs jerked, but Calliope’s hands kept you firmly pressed into the bed.

“Calliope,” you moaned.

You didn't say it, but she knew what you wanted. And she allowed it.

Just for this moment.

Her mouth latched onto your dripping folds, lapping up everything.

You arched your back, but Morpheus’s arms kept you in place. You squirmed in his unshakable grasp.

He chuckled against your skin. “So needy.”

You whimpered.

His hands snaked up and cupped your breast. Your head fell back onto his shoulder. He kneaded and played with you, raising you higher and higher along with Calliope’s memorizing tongue.

Calliope hummed. Her nails dug into your thighs, marking half crescents into your already bruised skin. Your breath caught in your throat. Morpheus twisted your perked nipples. You mewled, squeezing your eyes in pleasure.

“How long has it been since we’ve been together?” Morpheus whispered in your ear. “How long since you’ve been touched?”

Your breath hitched.

He nipped at your neck. “Days? Weeks, as you supposedly claim?”

You couldn’t answer. And you weren’t sure if you should.

His hands traced up the valley of your breast and curled around your neck. He squeezed gently, just as Calliope hummed again.

It sent shockwaves through you.

Your mind was in a state of frenzy. Every nerve was on fire. Weeks. It had been weeks, and you were sensitive and desperate for them. Your walls tightened around Calliope’s tongue, a sure sign of your close end. You sighed, utterly at bliss and -

She instantly pulled away.

Your eyes shot open. “Calliope -“

Morpheus squeezed your neck and you groaned immediately shutting your mouth. He dropped his hand from your neck and wrapped his arms back around your waist. “No, not yet.”

“What? No, please,” you pleaded, bucking your hips.

“And why should we?” Calliope asked, crawling up to you. “We do not satisfy you as you say.”

“Well, I - uh -“

“So, why should you get the pleasure to come?” Morpheus cut you off. “We obviously have no clue as to what to do.” One of his hands crept down, tracing your body and cupped your sex. “We obviously do not know you or your body,” he murmured, and nibbled on your ear.

You whined.

Calliope touched your cheek, turning your head and attention on her. She gently stroked your cheek. As if to ease your worries, your pains. All of it was a sweet lie. She leaned in, her lips skimmed over your lips taunting you. You chased after them desperate. She smirked, unwilling to give you the satisfaction.

“We obviously do not know you, like how we do not know of this spot,” she dipped her head into the crook of your neck. Her breath fanned against your buzzing skin, making you shiver. “And how easily you become aroused by such a simple touch.”

“Or,” Morpheus’s thumb swiped across your swollen clit and you bit your lip, moaning, “how vocal you quickly become.”

Calliope cupped your breast and slowly rolled your nipple between her fingers. You arched your back. “Or how you love to be played with.”

Morpheus’s fingers slid into your folds, and slowly began to pump in and out. You hissed, whispering a string of curses under your breath. You grind your hips down, needing more. Morpheus chuckled darkly. “Or how your body always betrays you, and shows how truly desperate you are.”

Morpheus curled his fingers, beckoning you closer and closer, leading you to your edge. You moaned their names loudly and unabashedly.

They were right.

They knew you and your body well.

Morpheus smirked. He picked up his pace, absolutely relentless. The sound of your dripping sex and Morpheus’s skillful fingers rang in your ears. You whimpered. The feeling as before build and build. You clenched your thighs and nearly trapped Morpheus’s fingers.

But, he knew you, he knew your tells.

“Oh no,” he laughed once. He deliberately removed his fingers, soaked in your juices, and brought them up into the light as if to admire them. You whimpered, praying for relief. “Not yet, sweetness.”

“Morpheus -“

“Silence.”

Your mouth clamped shut, and your sex throbbed. His demanding aura was frightening, chilling, and it turned you on immensely.

Calliope chuckled, not oblivious of Morpheus’s effect on you. “Oh, my love, you will remember who you belong to.”

Your heart flipped, both excited and terrified.

“We will have you begging and pleading and even then we may not offer you relief,” Calliope explained. “But maybe if you only show us how good you are.”

“Correct, so we will have our fun,” Morpheus said lowly. “Do you understand?”

You nodded numbly.

“Good.” They both said as wicked smirks crossed their features.

Oh, yes, you were in trouble.

It was sweet punishment. The consequences to your actions.

Minutes bleed together.

Hours passed. Or so it seemed.

Each one of them had their turn with you - toying with you. They switched on and off, using their mouth and wicked tongue to their mind numbing fingers, and sometimes both. Each of them drew you so close to the edge. You could feel the ledge and was ready to fall into bliss, only to have them instantly pull away.

You whined and begged, repeating their names over and over like broken prayers. Yet, they only smirked and continued the torment all over again.

Calliope, now laying beside you, brushed the hairs sticking to your sweat covered forehead. “You are being so good for us.”

You whimpered, leaning into her soothing touch. “Please, I - I’m sorry for what I said.”

You have apologized a dozen times, but it did not sway them.

“We know,” she said softly. She looked down to Morpheus between your legs, who was watching the two of you. “What do you say, Oneiros? Do we continue or -?”

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. With droopy, hazy eyes, you slowly peered down at him. Your eyes begged for relief and forgiveness. Your breathed heavily through your swollen parted lips. Your chest, speckled with sweat, rose and fell rapidly.

It was obvious, you were spent.

He ran a single finger through your folds.

You arched your back, mumbling incoherent nonsense.

He glanced at Calliope. “I believe we’ve had enough fun, don’t you say?”

Calliope smiled. “Oh yes.”

Morpheus’s fingers, again, easily slid in. You instantly grinded down on them. His mouth took your clit and gently sucked on it as his fingers feverishly pumped into you.

He was merciless.

You cried out.

And given how long it has been going on, you were very close. Your walls fluttered down around his fingers pleading for release. He hummed, loudly.

You whined, arching your back. “Morpheus.”

“Oh, come, my sweet love,” Calliope cooed. “You have been so patient with us.”

Morphues swirled his tongue and curled his fingers.

And that alone was enough.

You clamped down in his fingers, seeing stars as you moaned out their names. Morpheus eagerly removed his fingers and lapped up your juices. You squirmed and cried out in utter bliss.

Morpheus pulled away, chin soaked, to see you breathless and face buried into the bed. Calliope smiled gently down at you stroking your hair, grounding you back to Earth. Morpheus swiftly walked off grabbing a wet cloth and returned to clean you up while Calliope whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Quickly, the both of them crawled into bed pulling the sheets up over all three of you. Facing Calliope, you hugged her, drawing her closer, feeling her warmth. She peppered your face in butterfly kisses, while Morpheus, from behind kissed your shoulder.

“You were so good for us,” Calliope whispered.

Yet, as they showered you with their love. An ache built in your heart. The events from early resurfaced and the dull reminder of hateful emotions. You sniffled, as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“Oh, my love,” Calliope cupped your face, whipping away the tears. “Were we too -“

“It’s not you,” you blubbered out.

Morpheus wrapped his arms around your waist, comforting you. “Talk to us, love.”

“I am so sorry,” you mumbled as your throat clenched. You said it multiple times throughout the night, but you needed them to know how immensely sorry and guilty you were. “I said such awful things and I let my emotions get the better of me and -“

“Shhhhh,” Calliope cooed. “All is forgiven, you needn’t worry.”

“But - but I -“

“We are all captive to our emotions, and we simply need to learn from our mistakes and move forward.”

Morpheus kissed the back of your neck. “You know of my past, you know I have let pride and anger consume me. But now I am actively trying to do better, as well all are. We may stumble but it is those around us who pick us up and encourage us to try again who truly help.”

You nodded. Your heart now alleviated from the sorrowful pains and aches.

“And you are not solely to blame,” Calliope whispered, stroking your cheek. “You were also right, we have neglected you. Our attention was pulled elsewhere, but we will try better.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t apologize. You have duties pertaining to the whole world, and I shouldn’t put you at blame for that.”

“And yet, we also have a duty to you,” Morpheus hummed.

“He is right,” Calliope stated. “We agreed to this, and we failed you. But, it is not a mistake we will make twice.”

“Agreed.”

You smiled softly. “Okay, let’s promise here for a new start and to do better in the future.”

“I promise.” Calliope kissed your forehead.

“As do I,” Morpheus kissed between your shoulder blades.

You leaned forward kissing Calliope’s cheek, and she blushed under the gesture. You grabbed Morpheus’s hand and brought it up to your lips kissing his knuckles. He smiled softly against your back. “I promise too,” you whispered.

#the sandman #the sandman smut #the sandman dream #calliope #dream of the endless #Morpheus #morpheus x reader #calliope x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #calliope x fem!reader #calliope x reader smut #morpheus x reader smut #Morpheus x reader x calliope #afab!reader #the sandman imagine #morpheus smut #calliope smut #smut

613 notes · View notes