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roosterforme · 1 day

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Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning.

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

-----------------------

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched.

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

----------------------

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

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After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights.

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

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After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged.

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door.

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

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He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 day

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Double The Cravings*

a/n: this was a request by @cicicavill7 (sorry i didn't post the entire ask it was too long 😭😭😭😭😭)

Summary: you're very pregnant, and harry has to go to a fundraiser. you don't feel like eating because of your growing body, feeling insecure but harry's always there to take care of his pretty pregnant girl.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: smut, fluff. mentions of pregnancy, insecurities. p in v sex, sex while pregnant, creampie, aftercare, kissing.

"You look absolutely stunning, darling."

Harry's warm breath tickled the shell of your ear as his arms wound around your waist from behind. His large hands came to rest reverently on the swell of your pregnant belly, cradling the twins you were carrying.

You bit your lip, smoothing the silky fabric of your dress down self-consciously. While you didn't doubt Harry's sincerity, it was getting harder to feel confident about your changing body lately. Your cravings had been intense and unrelenting, and you felt like you were gaining more weight than a typical pregnancy.

"You really think so?" you asked, unable to mask the uncertainty in your tone as you examined your reflection again. "I feel like this dress is getting a bit snug..."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned you to face him, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Of course I think so. Have you looked at yourself? You're glowing, Y/N. Absolutely radiant carrying our babies."

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you right now, my pregnant little wife."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, ducking your head bashfully. It was getting more difficult to accept the compliments the further along you got. Your hormones were all over the place and you felt big and awkward rather than the radiant fertility goddess Harry seemed to see.

Sensing your reticence, Harry cupped your face in his large hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "I'm serious. You're so bloody gorgeous, Y/N, especially with this new lush, curvy figure of yours." His eyes burned with sincerity and...something darker as they raked over your body. "Gonna let me show you later just how much I appreciate these new assets?"

Despite your fluttering nerves, you felt desire curl low in your belly at the rumbling promise in his gravelly tone. Harry always had a way of making you feel utterly desirable and worshipped.

"If you insist," you murmured demurely, though you knew he could see the want simmering behind your eyes.

Harry groaned, ducking to capture your lips in a searing kiss. "Cheeky girl. You know I do." He punctuated his words with nibbling bites along your jaw. "Going to cherish every new inch of you, angel."

A fluttering in your stomach prevented you from getting too carried away. You placed a hand over Harry's where they still cradled your bump.

"Alright, alright, down boy," you giggled breathlessly. "We've got somewhere to be, remember? And these two are getting impatient."

Chuckling, Harry pressed one more smoldering kiss to the corner of your mouth before releasing you. "Fair point. Shall we, my pregnant goddess?"

With a wink, he offered his arm which you took with an eye roll and a fond smile. Despite your persisting insecurities, you felt reassured by his doting attention as you exited your bedroom.

This fancy fundraiser gala had been on your schedule for months, a can't-miss event Harry had been looking forward to all year. You'd been nervous about going, worried people would judge your ever-expanding figure. But Harry had been adamant that you were going to shine like the stunning, fertile vision you were. Now you were just hoping you could make it through without any embarrassing incidents.

Your breath caught as soon as you stepped into the opulent ballroom of the posh venue, immediately feeling underdressed and frumpy next to the glamour of the high society crowd milling about.

Harry, always in tune with your wavering confidence, leaned over to murmur in your ear. "Try to relax, love. You're the most beautiful woman in the room, and not a single person here holds a candle to you carrying my children."

You flushed at his ardent assurance, trying to calm your nerves as he led you toward the refreshments. Of course, not five minutes after arriving, the doubts began creeping back in.

All of the hors d'oeuvres being offered were deliciously unhealthy, aromas of rich foods and sharp spices assaulting your sensitive, pregnant senses. Your mouth watered just looking at the arrays of canapes, bruschetta, sliders, and mini quiches laid out enticingly.

But your hormonal self-consciousness quickly took over. You worried about stuffing your face and exploding right out of this tight dress, about people watching you pile food onto your plate and whispering behind your back. About looking sloppy and out of control.

So despite the intense cravings rumbling in your stomach, you shyly waved off the passing servers offering treats and settled for sipping some water and nibbling on a few breadsticks. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Harry frowning in concern, his brows drawing together as he watched you avoid most of the appetizers. But he didn't comment, simply squeezing your hand reassuringly and turning to engage in conversation with some donors.

As the evening wore on, your stomach was grumbling so loudly you feared passersby could hear it over the music and mingling voices. Your cravings were getting worse by the minute as you tried desperately to ignore mouthwatering aromas wafting all around. You pressed one palm against your belly, rubbing soothing circles as the babies kicked in protest.

"I know, I know," you whispered, feeling guilty already. You didn't want to deprive your little ones of anything, but the thought of stuffing yourself in front of all these judgemental rich folk had you paralyzed.

You jumped slightly at the feeling of a large hand settling over yours on your bump.

"Everything okay?" Harry ducked his head close, green eyes full of concern as he searched your face. "You've hardly eaten anything all night. Are you feeling ill?"

You bit your lip, averting your gaze briefly as you weighed whether or not to open up to him. After a beat, you decided there was no sense in hiding it; Harry could always see right through you anyway.

"No, it's not that exactly. It's just..." You sighed, gesturing vaguely around the ballroom. "I feel so out of place here. Like everyone's judging me for how big I've gotten already. If I gorge myself on all the food I want, I'll probably tip right over."

A soft, sad look flashed across Harry's face. "Oh, my sweet girl." He pulled you gently into his arms, stroking a soothing hand down your back. "Is that why you've barely touched your plate tonight? Because you're self-conscious?"

You nodded against his chest, comforted by his solid warmth and the faint whiff of his cologne amidst the richer scents of the food. "I know it's ridiculous. I should be listening to my body's needs, not worrying about stupid societal expectations. But I just...I feel huge already, and my cravings have been so intense this pregnancy. I'm scared if I give in, especially to this rich food, I'll get even bigger and--"

"Y/N." Harry pulled back, cupping your cheeks to force you to meet his suddenly intense gaze, brow furrowed sternly. "You listen to me right now, alright? That's nonsense and I won't hear another word about it."

You swallowed thickly at the fierceness in his expression, heat pooling in your belly at the hint of that commanding "dad" tone you'd come to crave during your pregnancy.

"You are...stunning. Incredible," Harry breathed, his warm hands drifting down to splay reverently over your belly, like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're absolutely glowing, every inch of you fuller and softer and just...exquisite."

His voice lowered to that rumbly timbre that could have you melting even at your horniest. "It's been a struggle to keep my hands off you as you fill out, love. Seeing you all lush and fertile like this..." He groaned softly, burning gaze raking over your body. "It's everything to me, and don't you dare deprive yourself or our babies with these silly hang ups."

You were panting softly by this point, squirming under his heated stare and the blunt weight of his words. Your arousal was a thick, heavy thing thrumming through your veins as Harry laid his desires out before you.

Harry's lips quirked in a heated, knowing smirk. He leaned in close, his plush mouth brushing the shell of your ear. "So I'm going to take you around this buffet...and pile both our plates high with anything and everything you've been craving, my insatiable girl."

A shudder rippled through you at the low, gravelly promise in his voice. Harry nipped at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back, satisfaction glinting in those emerald depths as he took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. He knew exactly how to unravel you.

"Then tonight, after we get home..." Harry's large hand drifted down to palm your lower belly, fingers splaying possessively. "I'm going to worship every new lush inch of you. Indulge my own cravings for this luxurious fertile body of yours."

You bit your lip on a small whimper, already aching for his touch. This man would be the absolute death of you.

Chuckling darkly, Harry slid his hand into yours and began leading you back towards the lavish buffet spread. Your cravings had reached a fever pitch between his heated words and the enticing aromas surrounding you. Hunger and arousal swirled dizzily within your core.

True to his promise, Harry loaded up two plates with every kind of indulgent treat - rich canapes dripping with cheese and pesto, crispy bacon-wrapped prawns, creamy mushroom vol-au-vents, and far too many miniature quiches and savory tarts to count. When you tried to protest the overflowing portions, he merely fixed you with a stern look until you subsided.

Finally, when not another morsel could be crammed on, Harry handed you your precarious tower of food with a soft smile.

"There we are, my perfect girl," he murmured, stroking a knuckle down your flushed cheek. "Now eat up for me, won't you? Gotta keep your strength up for later."

You swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry under the heated promise in those guileless green eyes. "Yes, Harry."

The next hour or so passed in a lush, sensual haze. You found a quiet corner to tuck yourselves into, allowing you to relax and satiate your fierce cravings under Harry's reverent, watchful gaze.

With each sinful bite, each savory indulgence on your tongue, you felt your nerves melting away, replaced by the most delicious anticipation. Especially when Harry's eyes would hungrily track the movement of your lips around each morsel, his large hands roaming possessively over the swell of your belly and newly full curves.

More than once, his deft fingers slipped a decadent bite past your lips, emerald gaze darkening in blatant lust each time you laved your tongue along the thick pads to clean away any lingering flavor.

By the time your second plate was nearly cleaned, a delicious lassitude had settled over your limbs. You were absolutely stuffed and sated, the fierce edge finally shorn off your hunger. You felt...content. Sexy, even, the way Harry's heated stare roved over your figure.

Sitting back with a small sound of satiation, you let your free hand drift down to caress your rounded belly. You could've sworn you felt the twins doing pleased little flips and kicks within, satisfied by your indulgence. You smiled tenderly, lifting your eyes to find Harry watching you with naked adoration glowing in his gaze.

"Look at you," he murmured reverently, using his thumb to gently wipe away a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth. "Positively radiant and plump, my gorgeous, well-fed queen."

Then, to your utter delight and arousal, he leaned over and pressed a lingering, openmouthed kiss to the swell of your stomach, humming in contentment. "We'll have to ensure we get you home soon...I have some urgent worshiping of my own to take care of."

By the time you finally tumbled through the door of your flat, lips swollen and gasping from the heated make-out session during the Uber ride, you were both achingly worked up.

No sooner had Harry kicked the door shut behind you than he was pressing you into the wall, large hands roaming greedily over your body. The sound of your muffled moan against his mouth only spurred him on, his grip tightening possessively on your hips.

When you finally parted, panting, his eyes were blown wide with sheer animal need. Harry wasted no time in shucking his jacket and tie, practically tearing apart the buttons of his shirt before moving on to divesting you of your clothes.

Your dress was peeled down over your curves and dropped unceremoniously to the floor in Harry's haste. Soon you were bare before him, the crisp air caressing your flushed, overheated skin and the delicious ache between your thighs.

Harry hissed out a breath, strong hands mapping the lush new terrain of your body with unbridled reverence. He swallowed hard enough for you to see his throat work convulsively.

"Fucking perfection," he grated roughly. His palms smoothed over the gentle swell of your belly, fingers splaying in wonder before sliding up to cup the full, sensitive weight of your tender breasts.

A strangled sound escaped your lips as he rolled the pebbled peaks between his fingertips, the jolt of sensation arrowing straight between your legs.

"Look at you, love," Harry crooned, nudging your thighs apart to slide one thick, muscular thigh between them. You cried out softly, canting your hips to ride the delicious friction provided by his leg. "All lush and fertile and utterly exquisite. Made to be lavished and cherished. To be devoured."

His mouth was on yours again, hot and wild and devouring you just as promised. You dimly felt him undoing his trousers, kicking them and his pants aside until he was finally as bare as you.

Then Harry was everywhere His huge hands spanned your back in a heated caress as his mouth mapped every new heavenly curve and swell of your body. His broad shoulders rippled between your splayed thighs, tongue swirling hotly over your peaked nipples until you were mewling. And still he paid reverence to your heavy, aching breasts and rounded belly, pressing fervent, worshipful kisses over every inch.

By the time the slick, insistent pressure of his cock nudged against your dripping entrance, you were already trembling all over, heat coiled impossibly tight in your core.

"Let me properly cherish you, my queen," Harry rumbled, the words a gravelly prayer as he slowly, achingly buried himself to the hilt within your welcoming heat. You both groaned in unison, your walls fluttering maddeningly around his thick length as he stretched and filled you completely.

That first slow drag nearly had you shattering right then and there. Each thick inch of Harry's cock glided along every perfectly swollen, sensitive inch of you as he thrust home, dragging against that sweetest spot inside over and over again.

His large hands cupped your ass, hips rolling in a torturously languid grind, burying himself deeper with every unhurried stroke. He was devouring you from the inside out, cherishing every silken inch, and the utter reverence in his gaze as he drank in your pleasure had you spiraling higher.

When one hand came up to cup the flushed, damp curve of your cheek, the tender intimacy of it nearly undid you.

"I love you," Harry breathed, mouth finding yours in a claiming, soul-deep kiss as his hips picked up their pace, driving into you with reckless abandon now. "All of you, every lush curve. My everything, my goddess, my gorgeous wife. Mine."

You were powerless against the tide of sensation and emotion Harry wrung from you, spiraling higher and quaking apart on a broken cry of his name. Your climax swamped you with blinding pleasure, pulling Harry right over that dizzying edge with you as your convulsive inner walls dragged him under.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck with a soul-deep groan, hips jerking erratically as he poured himself into you. You clung to him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to this world while wave after wave of bliss wracked your joined forms.

By the time the tremors finally began to ebb, you were both slumped bonelessly against the wall, sweaty and utterly spent. Harry shifted just enough to pull you more securely into his arms, face still buried in your neck as you both caught your breath.

Gradually, he began nuzzling soft, reverent kisses along the slope of your shoulder, across your collarbone, up the column of your neck. His large hands stroked soothingly over your back, your sides, cradling you close against his solid warmth.

"My everything," Harry murmured, the words a hushed vow against your overheated skin. "So incredible, so loved."

You hummed softly in contentment, nosing into the damp curls at his temple as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the lingering tremors shooting through your limbs, you felt completely at peace bundled in Harry's embrace.

One of his hands drifted down to settle over the swell of your belly, fingertips tracing idle patterns across the taut skin. "Thank you, darling," he said quietly. "For taking such wonderful care of our littles ones. For giving me this precious gift."

Tilting your head, you met his shining emerald gaze with a tender smile. "As if you need to thank me for that. This—" You placed your hand atop his, cradling the firm roundness. "This is our gift, H. One I'll never stop being grateful for."

Harry's face did that crinkly thing where his eyes squinted with the force of his smile. Leaning in, he brushed his lips sweetly, reverently across yours.

"I love you incredibly, Y/N. Every inch of you, always."

Those words, combined with the sheer depth of adoration in his gaze, had your heart turning over in your chest. You tucked yourself further into his solid frame, relishing his strength and the soothing drag of his fingers over your sated body.

"I love you too," you whispered. "More than anything."

You stayed like that for a long while, trading soft caresses and murmured endearments, until Harry insisted on getting you into a warm bath to relax properly. He drew the water himself while you waited on the plush bed, arranging the tray of sumptuous treats leftover from the gala.

When he emerged wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, you felt your breath catch at the sheer masculine beauty of him. Harry merely quirked an amused brow at your reaction before holding out one large hand.

"Shall we, gorgeous? I'll even feed you those petit fours you've been eyeing, if you'reopen to it."

You took his proffered hand with a giggle, allowing him to lead you to the ensuite bathroom where aromatic oils wafted through the air and the enormous tub awaited. Harry situated you between his legs, your back to his chest, before plucking one of the miniature chocolate cakes from the tray nearby.

He presented the treat before your lips with a soft, "Open up, darling," and you obliged with a smug grin. The rich sweetness melted over your tongue as you accepted each bite Harry slipped past your lips with careful reverence.

Eventually, you drifted off into a light doze, replete and cocooned in Harry's tender embrace. He continued soothing you with quiet praise and gentle caresses, not even bothering to rouse you until the bath water started to cool.

You awoke to Harry murmuring instructions to dry off and slip into some comfy pajamas. He watched you through hooded eyes as you complied, admiring the new softness and curves that pregnancy had gifted you. With a tender smile, he ushered you back toward the bedroom, already turned down and cozy.

As you snuggled beneath the plush duvet, Harry slid in behind you, his chest warm against your back and one large palm splaying over the firm swell of your belly. You sighed in pure contentment, feeling cherished and utterly adored.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," Harry rumbled, the words a quiet rumble against your nape. His thumb stroked soothing arcs over your stomach. "This new lush, fertile body of yours is utter perfection. I'll never stop worshipping it, worshipping you."

You bit your lip on a pleased smile, arching back against his solid frame. His free hand slid around to cup your breast, and you shivered at the careful, weighted touch.

"Let me take such good care of you both," he murmured, ducking his head to trail kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck as he cradled your heavy breast. "Make sure you stay well-fed in every way, satisfied, comfortable...like the goddesses you are."

With a blissful sigh, you melted fully into Harry's tender embrace. Every word, each featherlight caress was a balm to the lingering worries of your earlier self-consciousness. He adored this pregnancy body - round and soft and beautiful - and you knew he would move heaven and earth to ensure you felt utterly cherished and revered through it all.

Safe and loved in Harry's arms, you allowed your eyes to slip closed once more, reassured that whatever cravings or changes came next, you wouldn't face them alone. You'd meet them together.

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horatiocomehome · 3 days

Text

Hi my dream last night did something to me so here's a word dump I wrote immediately after waking up so I could get catharsis.

What if... instead of looping, Siffrin just came back to life?

~~~

You should've known it was too easy. No traps, only weak sadnesses, keys in relatively obvious places. It was so easy to get through the first floor.

But now there's a large sadness, and you've taken one hit too many.

As you fall to the ground you see your party close ranks in front of you. To protect you.

You see Bonnie, running up, with a crafted water.

Your vision is going dark.

There's a flicker, above Bonnie. It's…

The sadness it's arm above Bonnie it's attacking.

You tackle Bonnie. Something slams into your back.

You can't move anything except twitch your fingers you ca n't look up just at the floor

Bonnie's boots are there someone is screaming

You aren't g oing to make it.

You wanted more time w ith them you want to live you want t o stay with them you want to stay with them YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE YOU W ANT T O S T A Y W I T H TH

GAME OVER > continue > quit

You wake up from a deep sleep. You had a bad dream last night.

Someone's pulled the sheets up over your head. You toss them off.

Oh.

You aren't in your bed. You're back in your dream.

This is where you died.

It's quiet, now. No sadness. No party.

You look to the side, at the sheets you tossed off that weren't really sheets but your cloak, neatly draped over you where you were stretched out. Like a corpse.

Did you really die? But you're back here, so you couldn't have, right?

Maybe they gave you crafted water and it only just kicked in? But then where's the rest of your party?

There's a sickening certainty setting in to your gut.

You died, didn't you. And somehow you're back.

Your party left without you.

Good. They still need to kill the king.

Maybe… you can still catch up. You need to find them. You're okay! They'll be so happy to see you!

You stagger to your feet. You're a little light-headed, dizzy for a moment, then it passes. You put back on your cloak, grab your hat where it sits (right above where your head used to lie) and put it back on. Onwards you go.

There aren't any sadnesses, as you walk through the halls. Did they manage to defeat them all without you? Or was there some kind of reprieve after that large sadness?

You hope they got a bit of rest.

As you turn the corner, you see an open doorway, hear quiet voices coming through.

You don't know why you pause.

"—if we can't bring him with us, can't we bring him here at least?" you hear Mirabelle whisper, with a desperation that turns your stomach.

"I'm with Mira." Isa's voice is louder but still technically a whisper. He sounds so serious. "What if more sadnesses come? What if—"

You realize they're talking about your body. A shiver goes down your back.

"No." Odile's voice is steel in a way that makes you flinch. "We need to keep moving. We can't go back for them, or bring them with us. And sadnesses are just as likely to come here as that other room."

"BUT—" Mirabelle starts to protest.

You stop listening and force yourself to start moving forward. They don't have to fight! You're right here! You—

You freeze again as Bonnie walks through the doorway. They hug the wall as soon as they make it through the doorway, shooting a glance back over their shoulder before looking back down at the ground.

"Jus' need to make it to Dormont," they whisper so quiet you can barely hear. "I can do that. Just make it to Dormont. They'll all be fine."

They're sniffling as they shuffle along the wall towards you. Still not looking.

"I can make it back to Dormont. Then they won't worry about me and I won't hold them back like a crabbing baby and they'll be just fine and I'll freeze with all the other little kids and wait for them to—"

"Bonbon?" You ask.

They freeze, and turn towards you. Their eyes are dark and puffy.

When they lock eyes with you there's a beat and then they scream, terrified.

There's yelling from the other room. You ignore it. Your stomach is dropping like it's made of lead and you drop to your knees, stretching your arms wide. "Bonnie, no! See, look, I'm okay! I'm alright!"

They take a step back. "F-frin? Yyyou… died?"

"I got better!"

Bonnie tackles you into a hug and you don't have time to flinch as you fall back onto the tile floor, so you just wrap your arms around them. Over their head you see your other companions burst through the door, weapons at the ready.

"I HATE YOU," Bonnie is scream sobbing into your chest. "I HATE YOU I THOUHT YOU WERE DEAD YOU'RE A CRABBING IDIOT I HATE YOU."

Your heart twists but they're still holding you so tight, so you keep hugging them back. Your companions lower their weapons looking like they've seen a ghost.

Maybe they have.

You don't have time to think about it because then they're rushing in to hug you too, the warmth of their bodies pressing into yours, their tears dripping onto you—and you're crying as well, and even Odile, who hung back, has a glint on her cheek.

"I'm back," you say. Bonnie is still sobbing into your chest, but they've stopped yelling at you. "I'm alive. We're all going to be okay."

#isat #in stars and time #isat bonnie #isat siffrin #my writing #starry time #this fic brought to you by a dream where I died and bonnie was heartbroken but then I was just fine the next day #and I was going to tell bonnie BUT THEN I WOKE UP AND I WANTED CATHARSIS #so here

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aangelinakii · 3 days

Text

TALK.

— swimming... fountains?

summary : the two of you had been best friends since god knows when. maybe things turn out differently when you pull him in.

not proofread !

for as long as he could remember, dick grayson was utterly in love with you. from the way you held yourself, to the way you smiled at him, and down to the jokes you teased him with that he wouldn't let anyone else slide with.

ever since you were kids, you consumed his every thought. but what he didn't realise, was that you felt the same.

of course, it was a situation of miscommunication; simply just being too afraid to bring it up to the other, and not being able to read the hidden feelings of one another.

as nightwing, trained detective, dick knew how to read people. he could match a villain to their alter ego by simply passing them in the street on his way to grab a sub sandwich for lunch, but with you it was just different. maybe because it was a matter involving himself, as opposed to simply onlooking others. he felt conscious of his role in your life, and didn't want to manipulate things to follow his wishes.

put simply, he respected you immensely, and didn't want to force you into a situation he was scared you didn't want to be in. perhaps that was why you were better off as best friends.

on days neither of you had anything to do, you walked through the various parks of gotham, usually talking about how the past week had gone, or how the how many days that had passed between seeing each other had gone.

today, the two of you did just that. it was normal, nothing to be thought of it... right?

"i dunno, bruce has been stricter on us recently," dick chimed up in response to your question about his recent patrols. "so i don't really know what's going on."

pursing your lips, you gave a shrug. "even from when i've met him, he doesn't seem too lively. maybe he's just going through something."

"that's what i'm worried about."

and dick gave a sigh, one that held more weight than he was letting on. clearly this was something bigger than either of you two knew.

for a moment, you sized him up, watching as his eyes trained on the pebbly ground ahead. with the back of your hand, you nudged his arm, causing him to perk up.

"hey, how about we get some ice cream? maybe even sundaes from that shop on fourth?"

at this, his eyes lit up, stormy skies clearing with the reemergence of the sun, along with his charming smile. you knew he would be more than happy to, even if he didn't say so.

before you, the water fountain was approaching, with each step the two of you took. as it came up, you brought your foot onto the ledge, and began to walk along it.

as if like clockwork – because of the amount of times he had been with you as you walked along the fountain – dick held his hand out to your, soft palm up to the sky. in his field of work, it was a miracle he could keep his hands from getting calloused.

without having to think about it, you placed your hand in his, fitting like a puzzle piece; like a glove; lock and key.

"i already know what i'm going to get," dick piped up once again, his other hand snug in the pocket of his jeans. "rocky road, vanilla, and strawberry. maybe some butterscotch and marshmallows. i might gain a few, but i'll work it off tonight, anyway."

a laugh brushed past your lips, and you opened your mouth to reply. but any words about to escape slipped past without a sound, for your foot slipped. the fountain's ledge was slightly wet, probably from where a bird wanted a quick bath, or someone playing fetch with their dog actually threw the ball in and water splashed everywhere.

whatever it was that had happened, you were falling, no birds or dog toys could change that. and when you looked over at dick, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock, he was falling, too.

with a deafening splash! the two of you were splayed out in the water fountain, gasping at the chill, trying to push yourselves to sit up.

"oh my god!" you gasped, pushing your soaked hair out of your eyes, which were wide as they looked over at dick, who seemed just as shocked as you. "are you okay? i'm so sorry!"

"no, no, i'm fine," dick replied, running a hand through his raven hair, looking around at the situation as if not truly believing he was sitting in a water fountain, where literally anybody could walk past and find him. if he found any front pages with his photo on them, he would not be too happy.

on his knees, he waded over to you, and your eyes noticed the way his white shirt grew translucent in the water.

"you," he began. "are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?"

for a moment, you were worried maybe you were, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had deafened the pain, and you frantically moved to inspect if you still had all limbs.

opposite you, a chuckle brushed past dick's lips. "you look fine," he hummed. and when you looked up, his expression was soft; almost more stripped, more genuine, with the droplets of water lingering on his cheek and eyelashes.

"fine?" you repeated airily, the ghost of a disbelieving laugh running out with your breath. "like, i'm fine, or i don't look damaged?"

if you blinked, you would miss it. dick's blue eyes roamed your appearance briefly, the smile lingering at his lips. "yeah, you're fine," he replied casually.

he sat on his knees before you, not seeming to mind the cold water seeping through his clothes – which were probably more expensive than your rent – just smiling up at you, the chill causing a light flush to creep onto his cheeks. after a moment, his smile faltered, and he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"i want to talk to you about something."

you gave a laugh. "really? is this really the right time for that?" you questioned with a half-chuckle, eyes glancing around at the situation the two of you had found yourselves in; sitting pretty in a water fountain, where people were beginning to take notice. but hey ho, it was gotham; stranger things have happened.

dick paused, and, passing over a few beats, gave a bashful shrug. "i don't know. it might be. i don't think there would ever be a right time for this."

with a furrow of your brow, you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's up?" you hummed, repositioning yourself to sit more comfortably on your knees, the water rippling around you.

his mouth opened, readying to speak, but he looked away, seemingly thinking over his words, judging by that inquisitive glint in his eye. but he finally looked back at you.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?"

at his words, the corner of your mouth twitched, aching to hold back a smile. "yeah, of course. i appreciate you too, dick."

"like," he continued, chuckling softly, "i'm not even mad that you ruined my clothes by pulling me into a fountain in the middle of the park. seriously. not even mad at all. if you were tim, i would be holding your head under the water right now."

you gave a nod, eyes flickering to the side. "where is this going?"

dick exhaled through his nose, expression hardening as he looked over at you. "i think you're great. i think you're great when you fall into a water fountain and bring me with you; i think you're great when you send me a text before i go on patrol telling me to 'keep safe'. i think you're great when we go on walks, and when we go share an ice cream sundae, and when you remember my subway order—"

"how am i supposed to forget that you like your subway melts with way too many pickles to even be normal?"

and he laughed, that softness that you just adored shining through once more, causing you to crack a grin as well.

"what i'm saying..." dick began once his chuckle had trailed off, eyes gazing into the trickling stream pooling from the statue in the centre of the fountain. "i guess... maybe i wish we weren't friends."

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyebrows creased and your jaw dropped. "what– that doesn't make sense—"

"i'm in love with you, (y/n)," he finished, cutting off your confusion with barely a full sentence, his lips trembling. "okay? is that okay?"

how could you even reply to that?

noting your lack of response, dick continued to talk, trailing off awkwardly. he was ready for your years of friendship to be over.

"i just suppose we tell each other everything, and i kind of felt – i don't know – guilty that i was leaving this out. especially since it involves you. i know if you ever had a problem with me you would tell me, and the same for me with you, but i could never have a problem with you, i just thought it was the same sort of principle, i dunno—"

warmth clashing against the chill of the water, soft skin meeting soft skin. only for a moment. and it was over.

you pulled away, eyelids fluttering open to look at your best friend expectantly. best friends can't be best friends after this.

he felt for you the way you felt for him.

after every patrol, no matter how tired, he always made an effort to knock on the window of your bedroom, and bring by one of your favourite snacks, or even just to tell you about how it had gone; you adored it, the way he was so thoughtful. you thought he was just doing it because that's what best friends do.

he used to help you study for tests, and make sure you knew the content back to front before you went in.

some nights you would dance in the kitchen to your favourite oldies whilst cooking a dinner to watch in front of a good film; and it was those moments that you felt really connected him to you. but you thought it was just what best friends did.

as you looked up at him, lips thinning anxiously, dick's face softened, eyebrows upturning, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"you just... kissed me," he breathed, his breath fanning your tingling lips. "why did you just kiss me?"

"why do you think, doofus?" you scoffed playfully, bringing a hand to softly nudge his shoulder, despite the bashfulness evident on your face. "i think i'm in love with you, too."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc reactions #dc imagines #dc headcanons #dc universe #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #dick grayson imagines

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flowery-mess · 2 days

Text

Noah meeting you at your work (sales assistant in retail)

Noah is a tall man, that's a fact

And finding good fitting jeans for him is really hard

He always went to Zara or Bershka or any other basic clothes shop

He always managed to buy jeans that were at least his length, but had to tie them in the waist

So he decided that visiting a specialized shop with jeans, where someone would help him and he didn't have to try on 50 jeans he chose himself, is a great idea

So on his off day he went to his local mall and found a little jean shop

He noticed you straight away, he saw you talking with another man about what colors you have in the type of jeans he chose

He looked around for a bit, but then you approached him with a smile and 'hello, how can I help you?'

You asked, but you already knew what he's looking for

Well, he didn't know what he's looking for (because most men don't fucking know)

He just told you he need jeans that fit nicely and are long enough for him

You were thinking about slim fit, 30 or 31 in waist and 34 or 36 for length

You gave him few pieces to try

Every time your fingers touched his you felt something in your tummy

He kept staring at you, when you were explaining types of jeans you have

That means he didn't really listen what you were saying

When Noah went to try what you handed to him, you made your way behind the cash desk where your colleagues started making fun of your slight blushed cheeks and how you two looked at each other like teenagers

They were pressuring you into giving him your number or ask for his

But you found it unprofessional and were scared of rejection

You went to check with him if the size and type fits

When he came out of the fitting room with the jeans on, you felt something in your tummy (or maybe lower) again

He came in with sweatpants shorts so you didn't see his legs and ass before

But with those jeans hugging him in the right places you couldn't stop staring

To be honest you stare at everyone's ass when they try jeans, that's part of the job, but looking at this handsome man's ass felt embarrasing

He tried different sizes, types and colors and he chose three pairs to buy

You two kept smiling at each other and kept stealing glances

He paid and then left the shop

Your colleagues were making fun of you for the rest of the shift, because you kept day dreaming about Noah

You two were too lost in each others eyes that neither of you noticed that Noah gave you wrong size that he later paid for

He noticed it back home

And he was embarrased

He didn't know if he should come back and exchange it for the right items

He thought about it for a few days, but after he asked Jesse for the 10th time for an opinion Jesse said 'Mate if you don't go back there tomorrow, I will, and I'll make sure she never forgets who you are.'

Which meant he would go there and embarras the hell out of Noah

So the next day he came back like a little puppy

'I'm sorry I took the wrong size when I was here on Monday.'

You didn't mind that, you were happy he came on the day you were at work

You said no worries and helped him find the right size

This time your interaction was more smooth, with some small talk

When you did the exchange on your cash register, he apologized for the 10th time

And before you thought about what you're going to say, you said 'It's no problem, it happens, but if you insist on apologizing you can take me out.'

For a few seconds you both stood there like 🧍🏼‍♀️🧍🏽

'I'm so sorry, that was really inappropriate, I'm sorry.'

'If you insist on applogozing, you can let me take you out for dinner.' he used your words and turned the situation around with a smirk on his face

You said yes, also said 'I'm sorry' few more times

You two exchanged numbers and set up a date for your dinner

Your colleagues were laughing behind the corner at you interaction and then just said that at least you two will have a cute story for your kids

Taglist: @somewhere-diamond @reyadawn

You are the first ones that asked to be tagged in something I post, THANK YOU💗

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian band #jolly karlsson #nick folio #nick ruffilo #matt dierkes #noah sebastian headcannons #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian imagine

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wito-chan-bla-bla · 3 days

Text

You always knew that your husband would fulfill your every wish. He just loved you so, so much! He always listened to you and tried to make you happy. Sometimes you joked that he was obsessed with you, like a fanatic is obsessed with his god, but Satoru just smiled innocently at you and winked, playfully asking what you would do if it turned out to be true.

So when you asked him to participate in the "long role-playing game", he couldn't refuse you.

You had a vacation, but you didn't want to just go somewhere and relax. You wanted to have fun with your husband and maybe remember why you fell in love with him. Pretending to be strangers was too boring, so you remembered all the internet stories you read and suggested that Satoru pretend to be yandere.

"You can 'kidnap' me and keep me in one of your family's estates. You will play the role of someone who is obsessed with me and deeply in love, and I will try to escape and save myself, but in the end I will fall in love with you."

Satoru looked at you for a long time, then smiled and nodded. "That's a great idea, my dear!" You giggled at the way his heavenly eyes shone and said that he could kidnap you at any moment. Also more interesting!

When you woke up on a random day of your vacation not in your own bed, but in a completely unknown place, at first you were afraid. But then you quickly remembered that you suggested it yourself. In addition, Satoru appeared on the threshold of a chic bedroom, who crossed his arms over his chest, smiled sweetly at you and wished you a good morning.

"How did you sleep, my dear? Everything okay? I tried to move you as carefully as possible. Oh, please don't worry. This place... is now your eternal paradise. And you will be with me forever."

You could only giggle inwardly and try to pretend that you were scared. You were waiting for walks (that is, attempts to escape) in the fresh air, delicious food, lack of people and only your beautiful husband!

As you ran away from him through the forest, you could feel your heart beating harder and louder. Satoru played yandere so perfectly! As usual, he was perfect in everything.

He looked at you as if you were a goddess, the most precious thing in his life that he would kill anyone for. He treated you like a porcelain statue, as if he was afraid of breaking you. He was angry and crazy when you tried to escape, always catching you and whispering in your ear that you would never, ever leave him. He tried to get your love and promised that he would kill anyone who dared to approach you, steal you from him.

You almost believed it was real.

On the last day of your vacation, you were sitting at a table opposite Satoru, drinking tea and smiling contentedly. Your little "game" has come to a logical end: you have surrendered to your "maniac" and agreed to be his and only his. Satoru sat across from you and smiled broadly as he watched you eat the sweets he bought for you.

–It's been a good two weeks, – you put down your cup and stretched. – I'm kind of sorry that I'll have to go back to work soon…

–M? What are you talking about? I told you, you'll stay with me forever. And you agreed. What kind of work can we talk about?

–Satoru, stop messing around, – you tapped him on the forehead. – I told you, 'game over.' And we have discussed this many times. I'll go crazy with boredom if I don't work. Plus, I love what I do, so…

–What game, my dear? – Satoru smiled innocently at you. – Initially, there was no game.

You looked at your husband... and shuddered. He's been playing the maniac you're obsessed with so perfectly all this time... why does he keep doing it now, when you've already told him it's over?

–Satoru, this isn't funny, – you rolled your eyes. – By the way, where are we? I don't remember your family having an estate in the middle of the forest…

–This is my personal purchase. I did it as soon as I saw you.

–Uh, cute... probably? Did you want to give me a present or something?

You watched as Satoru slowly got up and walked around the table. He put his hands on the back of your chair, and you shivered all over. You knew, knew that your husband was just joking… B-but why were you suddenly afraid?

–I must admit, you should reward me for waiting so long, – Satoru leaned in close to your ear, and you could almost feel his smirk. – I've been waiting so, so long for this moment. I've watched these pathetic humans interact with you, how they waste your precious time... how they take you away from me.

–S-Satoru… I told you... "game over"…

–O-o-oh, my precious, – Gojo took a lock of your hair and pressed it to his nose, inhaling the scent. – You're completely wrong. It's just getting started…

You jumped up abruptly and spun around. Satoru looked at you with... hungry eyes. There was a creepy smile on his face that sent goosebumps all over your body, but now you didn't feel as excited as you did a week ago. Now your husband looked like a maniac... instead of trying to play the role of a maniac.

You took a couple of steps away from him and slammed into the table. Gojo chuckled and held out his hand in your direction. The ring glinted on his ring finger.

–What's the matter, dear? Didn't you like it when I acted like an obsessive, jealous animal? That's what we came here for. Oh, I'm so, so glad that you accept me for who I am…

He started moving towards you, but for some reason you couldn't stop your body. You couldn't think, you rushed to the door leading to the veranda and burst out. Your feet started to lead you towards the forest. You grabbed your phone and started tapping your finger on the screen, not knowing who you were going to call.

Satoru followed you out and looked at your retreating back. Over the rustle of branches, you heard his hysterical laughter, which made your insides freeze. You almost stopped and froze in place…

–My dear wife, do you think I won't find you the same way I did all the other times? Back then, I didn't even try, didn't even use my Six Eyes… And now... now that you're running away for real, the hunt should be real too, right?

You ran, you ran, you ran... you hoped to escape, somehow. Fortunately, so far you've been able to make a call, and you've taken the opportunity.

–Yes...?

–N-Nanami-san! I-I need help right now! S-Satoru is chasing me! I think there's something wrong with him! I need someone to know my location on the signal!..

You yelled when Gojo suddenly appeared in front of you. You turned around and started to run, but his big, strong arm wrapped around your waist and held you close, holding you firmly in place. He put his other hand over your mouth. Somehow, your phone is trapped between his ear and shoulder.

–Gojo-san?..

–Oh, I didn't think you'd address me so respectfully, Nanamin! It's so cute!..

–In general, I turned to your wife, do not even hope. Gojo, what's up? What was that?

–Oh, remember what I said about the little themed vacation that (Y/N) came up with? – Satoru said that like he wasn't holding you in his arms at the moment. You tried to resist, tried to scream, but the sorcerer was just too strong. – She got so used to being the 'victim' that she accidentally called you! I'm sorry if she distracted you from your important bread things. She wanted everything to be as close to reality as possible.

–Yes, I would also call someone if I was kidnapped… In any case, I don't want to know what the two of you are doing there. Say to her "hi" to for me. And also ask her not to call me with such "practical jokes". Realism is realism, but I might think that she was actually abducted by someone.

–Of course, of course! Bye-bye, Nanamin! I kiss you!..

–I didn't want to hear it.

As soon as Satoru took one hand away from you, you screamed. However, Kento didn't hear this because it was the first to disconnect from the call. Gojo silently put your phone back in his pocket.

You shivered all overas Satoru pulled you closer to him and leaned in close to your ear, his hot breath burning your temple.

–I couldn't stand having you around other people. I've waited so long to trap you… – Satoru kissed you on the cheek, then lifted your hand and kissed the ring on your finger. – Now only I can see your beautiful face, hear your angelic voice, and smell your divine fragrance… You'll be mine now. And that's what you've been dreaming about, isn't it? A normal person could not have imagined that they were being abducted by yandere.

You tried to resist, but you knew it was useless. Satoru easily hoisted you over his shoulder and carried you back towards the manor. Your own game... took you to the grave.

As you sat on the bed and tried to get as far away from Gojo lying on his side and smiling, you were horrified to remember every expression on his face, every movement, every word he said…

It was all true. Every threat to your family and friends, every promise to put you on a chain or put a collar on you, every word that Satoru is ready to destroy the whole world, if only you were near him… It was all true.

You always knew that your husband would fulfill your every wish. He just loved you so, so much! He always listened to you and tried to make you happy. But now you understood why this was happening. He was just luring you into a trap. He just wanted you to rely on him and him alone. He just wanted... to have you all to himself.

He will indeed grant you every wish... but not the one that concerned your desire to escape. This is now your new home. The home... right next to him and only to him.

#x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #fem!reader #gojo #satoru x reader #yandere!gojo #yandere #yandere!satoru

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bonesxbows · 2 days

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Surgery of a Hope (Astarion x Reader)

My Masterlist

Someone dared to try to lay a hand on you and Astarion finds out. He leaves Gale to comfort you while he goes and "takes care" of it. Or alternatively, Astarion is trying to show you he loves you in one of the only ways he knows how; by killing.

-WARNINGS- - mentions of sexual assault/assault (depending on how you look at it), but does not go into a lot of detail - crying/breakdown - trauma responses

If you have any triggers relating to assault or past assault please be careful reading this. I have not personally experienced what is written here but it is loosely based on trauma of my own and the goal was to write something to act as a comfort for myself and whoever else needs to read something like this. But please tread carefully, I didn't write this with the intent of triggering anyone.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy and I hope reading this can help someone else like writing it helped me :) Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

You sat on the ground inside your tent, nestled in the corner of the fabric, your knees pulled up to your chest. You were slowly rocking back and forth, replaying the traumatic events of the day in your head. Your body was present, but your mind was lost in its own little world, your eyes glassed over. You didn't notice Astarion barge into your tent, a bubble of excitement coming with him.

“Darling! I've been waiting all day to have a moment with you all to myself. I-” His sentence and his body stopped dead in their tracks when his eyes finally found you, a sad little ball of limbs shoved into the corner. His voice startled you out of your daze. He walked closer towards you and reached out a hand, but you jumped in response to him approaching and shuffled yourself deeper into the corner, as far away from him as you possibly could get. He frowned. He recognized your fear, he remembered acting like you were doing now once before and that worried him.

“Astarion, wait. I…wait. Please, don't come any closer.” You spilled out your words quickly. Your eyes were glued to his outstretched hand, wide like a gnoll staring down a wall of fire, and tears started to pool underneath them.

“What’s wrong my love?” He hated when you cried. He was getting better at learning how to comfort you but he still got nervous about making it worse. His frown deepened but he respected your request and instead knelt down where he was, keeping his distance from you.

“I…um…” you stumbled over your words, your mouth becoming dry and thick, like someone had shoved cotton down your throat. You tried to blink away the tears but they were now two hot waterfalls running down your face.

“It’s alright, you can tell me. What happened?” You looked like a scared animal and it reminded him too much of how he used to feel. He was concerned, but he was also angry. He had a feeling he already knew what had happened to you and the thought of him being right made him burn with rage inside. You took a shaky breath and did your best to speak coherently.

“Someone…um, someone tried to touch me earlier when we were in town. I…I tried to stop them, tried to fight them off. Some things were said and…and…” Your story ended there as the sobs racked your body aggressively. You buried your head in your arms, wrapping your hands around your shoulder to try to comfort yourself as you rocked back and forth, crying and screaming and sobbing loudly. Astarion swore he could feel his undead heart shatter. He could do nothing but sit there and watch as you poured out your emotions. He knew from experience that if he tried to comfort you it would only make the situation worse, but he felt helpless just sitting there and doing nothing. So he reached over and yanked your blanket off of your cot, folding it up haphazardly and placing it between the two of you, nudging your foot with the fabric, doing his best not to touch you.

You poked your head up slightly, eyeing him. You saw the blanket, your blanket, and how Astarion sat back on his heels, a comforting smile on his face. You unfurled a hand from your cocoon of limbs and reached forward slowly, grabbing the blanket tentatively, as if even the soft material would snap back at you as well. But it didn't, so you pulled it into your lap on top of your knees and buried your head into the comfort of it, sniffing the familiar scent of Astarion’s cologne that had rubbed off on it from his constant nights spent in your tent with you. You used a corner of it to wipe away your tears and tried to focus on steadying your breathing. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Astarion and he nodded his head.

“Do you think you can manage to remember who it was, my love? Can you tell me what they looked like?” he asked you softly. He wanted to reach out and grab your hand in his, but he stayed still for now. He would not touch you until you were ready and asked him to, no matter how much he wanted to. You began to shake your head furiously.

“No. Astarion, no. It was nothing, really. You don't need to do anything. It was my fault anywa-” He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Do not even finish that statement darling. None of this is your fault. None of it. Do you understand? Now, what did they look like?” his face was like stone, serious and deadly. It didn't scare you, not anymore at least, but you knew trying to argue with him at this point was futile. You were so confused and upset you did not know what the right thing to do was so you trusted Astarion and told him everything you could remember. You watched as he took off his jacket and moved closer to you. But he stopped just before he got too close.

“Is it alright if I touch you my sweet?” He asked before he did anything and you nodded, although slowly. He leaned forward to drape his jacket over your shoulders and pull it up over your neck. Your fingers fumbled at first but you grabbed it and pulled it as close to your skin as you could, relishing in the warmth and comfort radiating off of the velvet fabric.

“Stay here, alright? I’ll tell Gale to accompany you here inside of your tent so you don't have to be alone. I promise I’ll be back before morning.” He leaned forward again to kiss you gently on your forehead and you didn't jerk away this time. He smiled warmly at you but his ruby eyes shone with anger and malice. He began to stand up and head for the entry flap of your tent.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You jumped from surprise and began to reach for him but stopped abruptly when his jacket began to fall off of your shoulders and instead quickly grabbed it again and pulled it back up around you. You were afraid to be alone, even with Gale. You only felt safe around Astarion. Your sense of security was so shattered you were hesitant to trust anyone except him. He turned back around before he left.

“Promise me you'll stay here with Gale.” no, you wanted to go with him, wherever he was going. You wanted his warmth and to be in his arms with him by your side protecting you, no one else.

“But I-” he cut you off again. He was not looking for any arguments tonight.

“Promise me, my love.” there was no arguing with the look in his eyes and there was no changing his mind about whatever he had set his mind on doing. “I promise.” you choked out, trying not to cry again at the thought of him leaving you right now.

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can alright? Then I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.” You watched him leave, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to flow. You gripped his jacket even tighter and breathed in the smell of his cologne again, it was an even stronger scent on his jacket than on your blanket. A few moments after Astarion left Gale walked in, smiling sympathetically. He somehow juggled a bowl, two mugs, and a stack of books in his hands without dropping anything.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. You didn't give an answer and watched as he sat where Astarion once was just a minute ago and placed all of the things in his hands in front of him, between the two of you.

“We don't have to talk if you'd rather not. But I thought you might like a distraction while Astarion is away. My time is yours.” You looked at him and he looked sincere, but you were still a little wary. But this was Gale, someone who had stuck by your side from the very beginning and had been nothing but respectful and helpful ever since. You gazed over what he had brought with him, there was what appeared to be stew in the bowl and the two mugs were filled with tea and still steaming. The books were ones you recognized, titles you had once borrowed from him and had told him you had enjoyed immensely. Books that you knew, that were familiar, and there was comfort in familiarity. He knew this. Gale was your best friend, he was the second person to know just about everything about you. You were grateful that his memory was impeccable and that he had remembered all of your favorite things, especially at a time like now.

“What kind of soup is that?” you asked. The tears had subsided, for now. He was glad you were up to talking, it was going to be a long night for him if he had to sit here in silence the whole time.

“Vegetable and sausage. And that’s peppermint tea, with sugar, just how you like it. I've also brought your favorite books, but I can fetch something else if reading isn't up to your liking currently.” He stole a pillow from the pile off of your bed and propped himself up against the side of your tent, still an agreeable distance away from you. Astarion must have given him the details of your jumpiness and sensitivity to touch right now. You couldn't help but smile just a little.

“The books are alright for now, Gale. Thank you.” You reached forward for one of the mugs and chose one of the books from the stack as you did so.

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, alright? Im not going anywhere until Astarion gets back.” you nodded and took a sip from the mug, the tea warming your scratchy throat on the way down. You opened the book to the first page and Gale did the same with his own book.

Eventually the warm tea, familiar story, and comfort of Astarion’s scent lulled you into a sleep. Your body was exhausted from the day’s events and the extensive crying you had done earlier. Gale had stayed with you the entire night, within arms reach just in case you needed him, even when the rough ground began to irritate his old human body. He had even lit the candles in your tent after the sun had set just so you would not be in complete darkness if you woke up in the middle of the night.

You were never a heavy sleeper, but now you were even more anxious in your sleep after what had happened. A dull thud had woken you up and you heard the sound of water splashing. Your eyes fluttered open quickly but your heart calmed down when you saw the back of a familiar white shirt and white curls in the candlelight. Astarion had returned at some point, before morning just like he had promised, but his back was turned to you and he was knelt in front of your washing bucket.

“Astarion? Is that you?” you asked groggily. Your voice was thick with sleep but you were wide awake, grateful that he was back already.

“Go back to sleep darling, it’s alright.” he spoke sweetly to you like always, but he stayed with his back to you, working something onto the wash board inside the tub.

“Where have you been?” you sat up, blinking away the remaining sleep in your eyes and trying to focus on what he was doing. A part of you already had a guess of where he had been for the last few hours but you asked anyway, not wanting to believe what you knew was already true.

“No where you need to worry your pretty little head about, everything’s alright.” he told you, but you were too curious now to go back to sleep. Astarion hated chores, yet here he was scrubbing laundry in the middle of the night. You stood up quietly and padded over to him, still holding onto his jacket around your shoulders. You leaned over his shoulder and observed. He was holding on to a different white shirt than the one on his back currently, scrubbing furiously as the soapy water turned pink. Now that you were closer you also noticed the way the candlelight shined against black spots in his hair, a stark difference against his bleach white curls. You frowned slightly, accepting your previous conclusion as the truth now.

“Is that blood?” you asked. You already knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him.

“No.” he tried to deny the obvious, though he already knew you wouldn't believe the white lie.

“Astarion.” you said sternly, gently warning him to tell you the truth this time.

“Alright maybe it is. But the bastard deserved it.” he stopped scrubbing and so you sat down on the ground behind him. He turned to look at you, abandoning the shirt in the dirty water.

“What did you do?” your voice was calm. You didn't mind he had taken matters into his own hands, in fact you were secretly grateful.

“I taught him a much needed lesson my love. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again.” his lips turned up into his signature killer smile. He was proud of himself for the kill, as per usual. You wanted to thank him, say something, anything, to convey how relieved you felt, but the words got caught in your throat. His smile faltered a little when he noticed the pool of tears forming in your eyes, but he knew you were okay from the small smile that was stuck on your face.

He dunked his hands back into the water to wash the rest of the blood off and then dried them on his pants before outstretching a hand to you, silently asking for yours. You obliged, placing your hand in his. He brought it up to his face and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckle. You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up from his gesture, the smile on your face growing despite the tears that started to flood your face. You were safe. Even after all that had happened, you were safe with Astarion.

#my writings #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

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quinnylouhughesx43 · 11 hours

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𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝86

summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,

word count: 1.1k

authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺

Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.

As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.

"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.

The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.

That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.

"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.

"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."

The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.

As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.

The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.

“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.

While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.

As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.

He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.

“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.

#trevor zegras #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #nj devils fics #nj devils fluff #cay writes #requests📝#nhl writing #writblr #hockey fics #platonic!trevor zegras #nhl #hockey fic

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theamberfist · 2 days

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Leave it All on the Dance Floor! Part 5 | Alastor x Overlord! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord + Rosie

Description: The day of the long-awaited Overlord Gala has arrived, but when you feel too sick to attend, Alastor and Rosie make it their mission to pull you out of bed and onto the red carpet; for your own sake.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of torture) (final part of Leave it All on the Dance Floor!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Words: 3,745

"Where could they be?" Rosie questioned with concern in her voice as she glanced over at the clock in the middle of Pentagram City. "They're hardly ever this late for anything." Beside her, Alastor nodded in agreement.

"And I do doubt they would miss this event for anything." He added as his eyes narrowed, "Not when they seemed so eager to prove themselves better than that Velvet."

"Could something have happened to them?" Rosie asked now; her tone worried, "I'd hate to think about anybody else making moves on their territory today of all days!" Overlords didn't often threaten any of the three of you, given your strength and general intimidation, but that didn't mean the idea was impossible either.

"Had that been the case, I would have known." Alastor replied seriously. He always made sure to have a few eyes on the Swing Sector for your sake; after all, you were his best friend, along with Rosie! He had to make sure the rest of hell knew better than to threaten either of you in any way. Still, he couldn't help feeling slight concern over your current lateness.

The two overlords waited a few more minutes for you to arrive, hoping you'd show up and ease their worries eventually. But when you didn't, Rosie turned back to the Radio Demon with a frown.

"Something's gotta be up." She decided at last, "They wouldn't risk missing the gala after spending so much time making our looks for it; perhaps we should-"

"Sorry to interrupt!" A voice cut in suddenly and both overlord turned around to see a familiar-looking feline demon running in their direction. She seemed to be panting heavily and held a slip of paper in her hand. Upon recognizing her, Alastor immediately took on a more demonic form and grabbed her right off the ground.

"Where is your superior?" He demanded, though his voice was relatively calm as he stared the sinner down. She shook slightly with fear but held up the slip of paper in her hand anyway.

"T-they sent me to give you this!" Joan exclaimed, "Boss says they won't be attending the gala today but wanted to give their regards anyway."

"What do you mean they won't be attending?" Rosie questioned as Alastor dropped the cat and reverted back to his normal form. "They've been preparing for this event for months!" Joan panted from her place on the floor but pointed to the note Alastor now held.

"That should explain it," she said breathlessly. Rosie took a step closer to the Radio Demon so she could read over his shoulder. A few seconds passed as they looked over your note, which was sloppily written and to-the-point.

'Got sick. Not going to the gala. Have fun without me though; flip Velvet off.'

That definitely sounded like you but it didn't seem to be enough for Alastor, who looked up from the slip of paper with his eyes narrowed in your assistant's direction.

"They've fallen sick, have they?" He asked as she nodded quickly, "And tell me, did you and their other underlings make any attempt to prevent this from happening?" He was beginning to get scary again but luckily Rosie stepped in before Joan could be harmed. She knew he was just concerned about you but that these circumstances likely hadn't been brought about by the catlike demon.

"Now, Alastor, I'm sure she did all she could." Rosie told him as she looked towards Joan herself now, "Thank you for delivering the news to us, but I think we'd better go see your boss ourselves." At this, Joan immediately shook her head.

"N-no!" She exclaimed, "They specifically asked that no one be in their presence right now!"

"Well, I think it's safe to say that rule may not apply to us," Alastor replied as he immediately picked up his microphone-cane and began walking in the direction of your sector, "Especially on a day we were all meant to spend together!" Rosie nodded, following after him with a smile on her face.

"Thank you for delivering that message, sweetheart, but we can take it from here!" She informed Joan, who shrunk back in fear, knowing she couldn't stop the Radio Demon and cannibal overlord, but that you wouldn't exactly be happy to be plagued with visitors today, either. As a highly powerful overlord of hell, you rarely ever got sick, but when you did, it wasn't a pretty sight to behold.

..........

You sniffled, pulling the fluffy blankets covering your bed a little closer around yourself. A bucket lay on the floor beside your bed in case you needed to puke your guts up again and a box of tissues sat by your head. You honestly had never felt worse in your entire afterlife.

You couldn't help but wish for a second death as you lay there in your own little pile of sickness and sorrow. You'd been looking forward to today's gala so much, and you knew both Rosie and Alastor had been excited for it too; even if just because it meant you three could spend more time together. They didn't have as much personal stake in the event as you, but they were supportive nonetheless.

It briefly occurred to you that you should have sent more than just a note with Joan when she left. Though Alastor would have been understanding if the information had come straight from you, you knew firsthand how protective he could be over his friends. Hopefully, he hadn't given the poor cat-demon any trouble.

A knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts now and you groaned, raising the covers higher above your head. You'd told everyone you wanted to be left unbothered today. If someone had ignored your orders, you decided they'd be the next ones dancing until they collapsed as an example to the rest of your owned souls.

"Leave me alone to die!" You exclaimed when another knock sounded from the door. It clicked open a second later, though, as you groaned.

"Now now, as your dear friend, I could never allow you to die!" Alastor's voice exclaimed as he came into your room. You could hear another set of footsteps behind him, too. "At least, not again, that is."

"Why are you here?" You asked; your voice muffled by a pillow you'd placed over your face to block out the world. Your tone was exhausted but there was no hint of animosity in it as you addressed the Radio Demon.

"Why, to take you to the gala, of course!" He replied cheerfully and you heard him go over to the window by your bed, pushing the curtains open.

"I'm not going." You said from underneath the mountain of fluffy covers, "I'm sick and dying, Alastor."

"That's why we're here!" Rosie's familiar voice chirped from beside you and you groaned, rolling over so that you were laying face-down now.

"I can't even get peace on my deathbed." You grumbled, though neither of them could really understand what you were saying.

"Now now, you aren't dying!" Rosie assured you as she reached down and gently patted your back.

"And even if you are; all the more reason to make an impression at the gala first!" Alastor added as he went over and opened your other window now. You sighed, finally pushing yourself up and into a sitting position. The pillow that had been covering your face tumbled off the bed and Rosie bent down to pick it up as you turned to her.

"Look, I appreciate you guys coming by, but I'm really not up for this today," you told her finally, "You should just go without me."

"Nonsense!" Alastor exclaimed, coming over to where you two were sitting on your bed, "Darling, you have been preparing for this event for months; if you think there's a chance we would let you miss it now, you're quite mistaken!"

Rosie leaned in a little closer to you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. "I have a recipe that'll have you feeling better soon enough!" She assured you, "And I brought you a whole new makeup bag with all your favorite products from the emporium!" You softened at that and Alastor lay across the bed on your other side now, kicking his legs like a girl at a sleepover as he eyed you.

"That cat of yours has already gotten to work in the kitchen," he explained, "Now, all that's left is for us to get you looking perfect for the gala!"

"I really appreciate it, you two," you said with a sigh as you pulled your knees up to your chest, "But I can't even stand without getting dizzy right now and I look like absolute shit. Plus, won't the reporters notice that I sound sick? You can hear it in my voice!" You buried your head in your knees but it seemed the two overlords at your sides weren't ready to give up yet.

"Don't worry about your appearance; I'll work my magic!" Rosie assured you as she pointed to the makeup bag she'd left on your vanity nearby.

"I can do something about your voice," Alastor said, "And not to worry; should you feel like falling, I'll be sure to catch you in the nick of time!" You were a little touched to hear that but still felt hesitant as Rosie took both of your hands and helped you off the bed now.

"But what if I get you guys sick?" You asked, "And if you catch me, Al, people are going to start theorizing that we're dating again like last time."

Rosie dragged you across the room towards your bathroom as the Radio Demon stood now and adjusted his suit. "Then let them theorize!" He decided, "I certainly have no time to worry about the thoughts of the masses, and if I recall correctly, you saw sales to the boutique spike the last time we were rumored to be in a relationship, did you not?"

You paused. He had you there. The same had happened before when Rosie and you were seen having dinner together in the Swing Sector one night, too. And while you’d never been that interested in relationships, you supposed rumors about you and your close friends were better than ones about total strangers, considering a bit of gossip was unavoidable.

"And don't worry about us getting sick!" Rosie assured you, "Should that happen, you can pay me back with a good basket of livers; sound good?"

"...Fine." You sighed at last, making both overlords perk up. With that, Rosie pushed you into the bathroom to take a quick shower before going over to your closet to find your outfit for the evening. Being the overlord of the Swing Sector with your own popular boutique, your closet was gigantic. Every design you'd ever come up with could be found there; save for a few that you'd decided were now so out of style that they were dead to you.

Alastor followed her inside as they both began searching for your outfit. After ten minutes of walking through the rows and rows of clothes, the Radio Demon managed to locate it in a fancy display case near the back of your closet. Taking it out, he and Rosie returned to your room, where you were now waiting on your bed once again in an extremely soft, fancy-looking robe.

"Good, you're ready!" Rosie exclaimed as she went over to you, pulling you off the bed and over to the chair in front of your vanity.

"I still don't feel all that-" You began, only to pause immediately with a concerned look on your face. You glanced at Alastor, who seemed to realize what was happening because he immediately made his way over to your bed, grabbing the bucket that rested near it and handing it to you just in time for you to throw up.

"There, there," he said as he gently patted the crown of your head, "We'll have you feeling better in no time!" You didn't believe him but a moment later, one of your owned souls came in to take the no-longer-empty bucket away.

You turned around, letting Rosie get to work on your makeup so you'd at least look a little less close to a second death. You still weren't sure about doing this, but it seemed as if they'd left you no other choice.

While the cannibal overlord worked, the other, also cannibal overlord stayed nearby, creating something else using his own power. You couldn't see what it was, but after a moment, he seemed to finish it and came over to you.

"Here you are, darling." He spoke, placing the small item in your hands. It looked like a button, but upon further inspection, you realized it highly resembled the staff-microphone he always carried with its shape and the little eye in the middle.

"What's this?" You asked, glancing up at him but being sure not to move your head too much since Rosie was still working on your makeup.

"To mask your voice, my dear!" He explained, "I made it a button so you can wear it alongside your clothes tonight. This way, no one will realize how sick you actually sound!" You turned the object around, inspecting its design and color scheme with scrutinizing eyes. If you were going to be wearing it, you decided it had better match the rest of your look. And luckily, it seemed Alastor had accounted for exactly that, because the colors fit perfectly.

"Thank you." You smiled, "It's perfect." His grin only widened.

"Don't mention it! Anything for a friend, of course." Though having you speak with a radio filter all night would only further convince everyone you were in a relationship, he elected not to mention it for the sake of getting you to the gala.

A few minutes later, Joan entered the room just as Rosie was finishing your makeup. She held a tray in her hands with a steaming bowl that had a smell that was already making your mouth water; and you hadn't even seen what was in it yet. She set it by your vanity and then Rosie finished up the last bit of your makeup.

"There; you look perfect, honey!" She exclaimed as she took a step to the side so you could see your reflection in the mirror. And, just as she'd said, you did look perfect. She'd somehow managed to cover your sickly complexion while also accentuating your face in a way that made it almost seem like you were glowing.

"Wow..." You whispered before bringing a hand up to your mouth to cover the fit of coughs that left your lips.

"This soup should help with that," the overlord told you now as she began packing up the makeup she'd been using in order to clear the space. "I promise it's vegetarian!" Though, with her, that mostly just meant that no other sinners had been used to make the dish.

"Thank you, Rosie." You smiled as you reached for the soup and tried a sip. It turned out to be exactly what you needed right now after not eating at all these last twenty-four hours since you'd felt so horrible, and you easily began gobbling the food down. Meanwhile, Alastor moved to stand behind you as Rosie stepped away.

"Now, to do something about your hair." He spoke as he took products from your vanity and got to work. You let him do his thing; after all, Alastor was surprisingly good at doing hair; no matter the texture or length, and he'd styled yours many times before. He was always careful about it, too; never pulling too hard or harming your scalp in any way. Between him and Rosie, as well as your own design skills, you practically had a whole glam squad on your hands.

You finished your soup as Alastor worked on your hair, and then once he'd finally finished with it, he took a step back so you could inspect it. The style was beautiful, as expected, and you knew it would go perfectly with the outfit you'd made for the event. He really did have an eye for this sort of thing, didn't he?

"You know, if radio ever gets old for you, you could have a very fruitful career doing hair," You told him with a smile.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I believe working on anyone else's hair would become too tiresome too quickly." Alastor replied as he very carefully patted the top of your head; not misplacing a single strand of your hair. "So, I suppose you'll have to remain my only client."

"Works for me!" You replied more cheerfully now that you were feeling a little better. You were still sick, of course, but at least for now, you weren't about to immediately throw up or faint on them.

"Now, let's get you into these beautiful clothes!" Rosie said with a clap as she pulled you from your seat at the vanity. You let her drag you over to where the outfit had been laid out on your bed, taking a second to once again admire the glory of your work as the other two overlords headed for the door. "We'll be right out here waiting to see the finished look!" Rosie told you but then paused, "And if you feel as if you're going to collapse, please don't hesitate to call." You nodded, chuckling quietly as she closed the door to your room behind them.

Then you turned back to your clothes with a grin; excited to finally get to wear them for the event you'd been planning to for months.

Once you had the outfit on, you grabbed the button Alastor had given you and fastened it onto the front. It turned out to be a good accent piece, to your surprise, and even added to the look, rather than taking away from it. You went over to your vanity to check out your reflection before showing it to your friends.

Compared with how you'd been prior to their arrival, you looked like a new person. In fact, you might not have even been able to tell that you were feeling unwell, if not for the pounding in your head.

Finally, you went over to the door, pulling it open and stepping into the next room, where Rosie and Alastor were trying not to look like they'd been eagerly awaiting the sight of you this whole time.

As soon as her gaze landed on you, Rosie gasped. "You look gorgeous!" She exclaimed, immediately coming over to take your hands in hers, "I can't wait to read all about how you had the best look of the night in the paper tomorrow!" You giggled but thanked her, nonetheless. After all, if not for her help, you wouldn't even be attending the gala right now.

"Indeed, you look much more alive than before!" Alastor agreed, "I, for one, cannot wait to see the look on the V's' faces when we all enter the event together!" You grinned.

"Well then, I suppose we should get going!" Rosie spoke, "We're already quite late to the event, but what loser shows up on time to these things, anyway?" She took your hand again, pulling you along and right out of the boutique as you shouted for Joan to be the one left in charge. There, a car was already waiting to take you three to the gala. It was old-fashioned, looking as if it were from yours or Alastor's time, and you all filed in to attend the event.

The second your car pulled up, you could hear the shouts of reporters outside, along with the clicks of cameras attempting to snag photos of you.

"Ready?" Rosie asked and you nodded, still feeling a little nervous.

"Remember; we're right behind you!" Alastor said as you opened the car door and stepped out, immediately being bombarded with reporters, cameras, and a thousand eager questions. Your clothes seemed to gleam in the light; soaking it all in as you walked across the red carpet. One of the reporters, who seemed to work for Vox, called you over and you decided to humor him.

"Tell us, who made the outfit you're wearing tonight?" He asked curiously as you just smirked.

"Why, I did, of course!" You replied, not sounding the least bit sick thanks to Alastor's mini-microphone button. Instead, your voice was masked by the static of the radio. “And I made theirs, too." You pointed back at Alastor and Rosie, who were taking their own respective poses on the red carpet. The reporter said something else, appearing to be in awe, but by now you were done answering his questions and headed back towards the entrance of the venue.

There were a few photos snapped of you, Rosie, and Alastor all standing together in your respective outfits before they finally let you head inside. As you did so, Alastor subtly went to your side.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" He asked.

"A little dizzy, but otherwise, alright!" You whispered back as his smile widened.

"Wonderful!" He replied, "And it seems our present company has noticed your arrival." You followed his gaze to see the V's all sitting around a table inside; Velvet looking furious as she stared you down. You understood why too, seeing the outfit she had on. Compared to yours, it was extremely plain and even a bit unoriginal. You held your head a little higher at that revelation, knowing she wouldn't dare approach you tonight and risk having a camera snap a picture of you both for direct comparison.

Once again, you seemed to have won the fashion game. You followed Alastor and Rosie to a table of your own, where you finally plopped into a seat and accepted some appetizers from a waiter.

"I'm glad you managed to convince me to attend tonight," you admitted finally once things had wound down, "Though, I won't lie, I think I'm about to pass out." The room was spinning, and not because you'd drank any alcohol this time.

Luckily, Alastor managed to catch you in his arms before you fell out of your chair, just as he'd promised. An amused chuckle left his lips despite you being temporarily unconscious from the dizzy spell. "That's what friends are for, dear!" He said as Rosie nodded.

"And don't worry," she added with a kind smile, "We'll be sure to keep looking out for you."

..........

Bonus:

You stared down at the magazine in your hands; where a photo of Alastor holding your passed-out self in his arms was printed on the cover along with the words 'Radio Demo Back With Ex-Lover?!'

"I told you they were going to theorize!" You called to Alastor, who was preparing tea in the next room. “Since when did they start assuming we were ex’s, though?” All you heard was the sound of light chuckling before he came out and handed you a cup, sitting down next to you on the lush couch that rested on your balcony.

"If nothing else, it will be great for your business, dear!"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #Alastor x best friend reader #alastor best friend reader #best friend reader #Alastor x friend reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #platonic hazbin hotel #platonic alastor x reader #platonic hazbin hotel x reader #fanfic

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sizzleporkandmmm · 2 days

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GVF and crying!reader

warnings: just a touch of angst

Josh

You've had a terrible day.

From people pissing you off at work, to spilling your lunch on the floor, to the grocery store being out of the one thing you needed, the only thing you stopped for.

So when Josh called and said he'd be home late from the studio, you broke.

"That's fine, see you in a little bit baby," you said, willing your voice not to crack, wiping at your eyes. "Are you okay?" You heard Josh's voice crackled through the speaker, "Yeah," you sighed, not wanting to keep him any longer, "'M okay. I- uh. I'm gonna get started on dinner, Love you." your voice cracked on those last two words, and you hung up before he could say anything else.

You dropped your phone onto the couch cushion next to you, curling in on yourself, and allowing the tears to flow freely down your face. You let out a short sob, wanting nothing more than to be held by Josh, but he was working late, and you felt awful bothering him over something so trivial. So, you sat for what felt like years, hoping you'd be calm by the time Josh did get home.

Through your tears, you didn't hear the front door open, Josh's sudden presence going unnoticed until he spoke. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You jumped at his voice. "Josh?" you croaked, sniffling and wiping your face, "W- I thought you had to stay late?"

"You sounded so upset on the phone, I thought being here with you was more important."

You cracked at this confession, a fresh wave of tears pouring from your eyes. "I just had such an awful day, I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like you needed to come home," you stuttered out, burying your face in your hands.

You felt Josh's palms against your cheeks, "You are the love of my life, I want to be here when you have awful days, to hold you and make you feel better. I came home because I wanted to, because you're worth it." He said gently, eyes shining. You sniffled again, leaning into his touch, letting him hold you like you so desperately needed.

After you calmed down, tears finally stopping, you told Josh about your day, apologizing once more before he stopped you. "Babe, you are allowed to have bad days, do you know how many times you've made me feel better have a shitty day? So many times I've lost count! If me being here to hold you is what makes you feel better, then there's no where I'd rather be. Plus, Sam was getting on my damn nerves. So you really saved me," he teased, making you giggle. "There's that smile," he sighed, before moving to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Now, let's order thai food from that place down the street." he said, making you laugh and roll your eyes. How'd you ever get so lucky?

Jake

Jake wasn't one to have over the top emotions, he was a level headed man (most of the time). You were the polar opposite, you suppose that's what made you two perfect for each other. Balance was the thing of like, you know.

Though, you couldn't help but look back on the first time Jake saw you cry.

It was about 3 months after you had officially started dating, putting a label on it, you were his and he was yours. And with comfortability, came arguments. No one said love was easy.

Jake had been coming home late, coming home reeking of alcohol, not bothering to say hello, or even acknowledge your presence. It was a trend you were getting tired of, but when you brought it up to him, it was the same response. "I'm fine babe, you know how you get. Emotions are a little dramatic," He'd say, brushing you off, reacting only in the slightest.

And you'll admit, you were quick to anger, quick to react, really. But for the second week in a row of this behavior, it was really grating on you. You missed the man you met.

So one morning after he came home, smelling like the bar, you struck up a conversation.

"Jake, babe. I- I have to be honest, I'm a little worried about you," you started, voice soft. "Don't be," He said flippantly, not bothering to even glance at you. "Jake, please." You urged, finally catching his attention.

"Are you really that bothered about me going out, y/n? It's not that serious," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I don't want to start an argument-" you started.

"Fine, then let's just stop here."

"I just-"

"I said, stop."

"Jake-"

"Y/n, ENOUGH."

You gasped at his tone, tears making their way to your eyes. You willed them not to fall, worried at the reaction they'd get from your boyfriend. "I just... I miss you Jake. I-if there's anything I can do..." you trailed, voice wobbling.

He finally looked at you, noticing the way your eyes shined, tears threatening to spill. You blinked, allowing them to stream down your face, looking anywhere but his face.

"Y/n..." His voice was soft.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so. I try so hard to be good to you, and I'm fucking it up. I love you, so much. I- I was scared. I've never-" He paused, voice getting caught in his throat. He sniffled before continuing, "I've never felt this way for anyone before. I don't know... How to do this..." He shook his head, his own tears falling from his eyes.

"I want to be in this with you, Jake. I want all of you, not just what you pretend to be. I love you," you breathed, pulling his body into yours, feeling the way his tears wet the fabric of your shirt.

In that moment, your emotions were equal to each others, and you felt stronger in your relationship ever since that moment.

And you know, that when you cry, so does he. Because even though he doesn't show it, he feels just as deeply as you do. And that's why you two are meant for each other.

Daniel

Danny tended to be an emotional man despite his outward appearance.

He wasn't afraid to laugh or cry in front of you. He only really hid his emotions when he was infront of the crowd. Willing the tears of overwhelming pride not to fall.

You loved this about him, you loved the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, it made you feel like you could too. Still, you seldom cried, and even less so in front of others.

Watching him on stage always made you feel some type of way. But tonight, the first show of the tour, you were beside yourself. The way they all lit up, their smiles enough to light the stage by themselves.

It was a truly beautiful experience.

They went through the show with no mishaps, watching the boys pass out the roses, watching Danny toss his sticks into the crowd. The way the fans rallied around them was heart warming, and you were honored to be a part of it.

For some reason, as Danny exited the stage, you were overcome with the emotion of the show, all the joy, and excitement crashing down on you, tears springing up to your eyes. Danny rushed towards you, pulling you into his sweaty embrace. You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the sweat that dripped off his curls.

He pulled away to smack a kiss on your lips, "did you like the show?" he breathed, that toothy smile gracing his features. You took a deep breath, and gave him a watery smile.

"Babe what's wrong?" worry seeping into his tone, eyes searching yours for an answer.

"I'm just so proud of you," you whispered, voice cracking, "I- I don't know. I just- I love seeing you do what you love, it makes me happy."

He smiled at you, "So... Happy tears?" he asked.

You let out a watery laugh, and nodded, "Yeah, happy tears." You sniffled.

"Good, for a second I was worried I was gonna have to start groveling or something." He teased, making you scoff. "I'm glad you liked the show, babe." He said finally, leaning down to give you another soft kiss, and wiping the stray tears from your face.

Sam

Being clumsy and liking to hike wasn't a great combination. You've tripped over air before, and willingly going to a place full of rocks and holes isn't the best idea.

But you loved to hike! So you and Sam packed Rosie in the car and headed off.

The day started off fine, you taking Rosie and trucking ahead while Sam stayed back a few feet, he'd brought his film camera and wanted to get some photos of the day. So far, you'd made it through with nothing but a stumble, and you got a little too comfortable, a little too confident in your balancing abilities.

You handed Roses leash to Sam and jumped up onto a rock, "Careful, babe!" Sam warned, aiming his camera at you as you posed, capturing a few moments.

You clambered of the rock with no issues, throwing Sam a confident "I'm doing great." But that notion was short lived as you stepped in a slick spot of mud, and promptly met the ground. "Fuck!" you said out of surprise as you fell, the rocky ground cutting into your knees, stinging tears rising to your eyes.

Your ankle twinged as you shifted, "Ah shit, y/n. Don't move, babe," Sam fretted, not noticing your tears. You sniffled as you shifted, tears from pain and embarrassment finally falling, "Y/n? Are you crying? What hurts?" Sam said, kneeling in front of you, Rose rounding to lick you in the face. You sniffled and pushed her away gently. "I'm fine," you muttered, cheeks burning red. You don't know why you were embarrassed, this was a common occurrence, but combined with the pain and the distress of ruining the day.

Sam brushed the stray hairs from your face, "will you tell me why you're crying?" Sam asked, worry etched onto his features. You turned away from his gaze, tears still streaming. "Well. I guess I'll just have to cheer you up," He sighed, standing straight.

You arched your brow at him, "knock knock" he started, and you sighed. "Y/n. Knock. Knock." He insisted. You rolled your eyes, "Who's there?" you croaked. "Babe will ya get the door!" he called, grinning stupidly. You couldn't help but giggle, "That was so stupid, Sam."

"Ah but it made you smile, didn't it?" he sang, thrusting a hand towards you to help you up. You groaned as you stood, rolling your ankle a few times as you did so. "You sure you aren't hurt?" Sam asked, softness seeping into his tone.

You smiled at him, "Yeah, just a couple of scratches, my ankle hurts a bit too but I'll be okay. I was mostly embarrassed." You said with a blush.

"Oh well now that just won't do! We both know I'm the embarrassing one!" he scoffed, looking around. He spotted another hiker down the path a little ways, "Hold on." He said, mischievous glint in his eye.

You watched as he walked up to the hiker "'Scuse me, sir. I really had to go but I'm not sure if I did it quite right... Can you see if there are any stains on my shorts?" He said loudly, causing you to stifle a laugh as the fellow hiker grimaced and sped around him.

"Sam, you are ridiculous." you laughed, smile unwavering. "Well, yeah. I had to get even." He said seriously.

You rolled your eyes fondly, but you knew he'd do anything for you, and you'd do the same in return.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #danny wagner #danny gvf #sammy kiszka #jake kiszka #jake greta van fleet #daniel wagner #gvf fluff

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onpointedfeetandbrokendreams · 2 days

Text

Day 1 - DBDA Week

Day 1 of Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week: 10th-16th June by @dbdcentral

Prompt: Things Unsaid

Relationships: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Payne&Crystal Palace&Charles Rowland

Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff

TW: None

“Since this seems to be continuing,” Edwin said while motioning between him and Charles with his free hand. “I think I should tell you about what happened with the Cat King.”

Charles grimaced for a moment, before nodding encouragingly. Even if he appreciated the attempt at understanding silence, Edwin could practically hear the ‘so something did happen!’ in his eyes.

“He, well…” Edwin knew it had been his own conscious decision to start that particular conversation, but now that it was time to actually say the words, he couldn't find them. He exhaled a breath he didn't need. “He did try to get frisky with me.” He went for, remembering the word Charles had used at the time to describe the… ordeal.

“I knew it, that bastard,” Charles was moving to get up from the couch, to do what exactly, Edwin didn't know. It had been almost three years since the events of Port Townsend, it wouldn't make any sense for him to go there and find the Cat King after so long.

Edwin pulled with his left hand, where his fingers were already loosely entwined with Charles’, effectively stopping him from whatever revenge plan he was concocting.

“Nothing happened,” Edwin continued, his voice soft. “And it was nothing… non-consensual.” The words felt weird on his tongue, even if he knew he was using them correctly in the context, and it was the best way to convey the message without risk of misunderstandings.

Charles swallowed hard. “Does that mean you wanted something to happen?”

“I don’t think I knew what I wanted. It took me by surprise, because I thought those kinds of desires were never to be acknowledged. And seeing him touching me so carelessly, so freely. That was…” This time, Edwin wasn't sure what the right word could be. After some consideration, he ended with “interesting”.

“Hmm.”

Edwin tightened his grip on Charles’ fingers again. “You have nothing to worry about, I have never thought about him in that way since we left Port Townsend, and especially since, well… you know.”

It didn't seem to be enough for Charles, as he was still looking uneasy, insecure. Edwin wouldn't have it. A couple of months prior, he would never have dared to admit that to himself, let alone out loud, but considering how they were sitting across one another on the couch with their legs intertwined and Charles’ hand was caressing his knee with the same familiarity with which he would lean on his own, he felt a surge of boldness he had never thought he had in him and admitted:

“Now all of my fantasies are about you.”

Charles went incredibly still, his eyes lost focus, his hands froze in place.

“Is… something wrong?” Edwin tried to ask. He thought about moving away to give him some space, wondering if maybe he had gone too far with the implication. They had kissed multiple times but they had never talked about anything more physical. He didn’t know what to make of Charles’ reaction.

Before he could decide on a course of action, Crystal slammed the office door open.

She took a long look at the scene in front of her, then her gaze stopped pointedly on Edwin. “What happened? How did you break him?”

“I just said-” Edwin started explaining, but was brutally interrupted by Charles, who had finally found his voice back.

“It's nothing, I just needed a moment. You know, there's another case with an abusive father.” He said, like those words explained everything.

It had the desired effect, Edwin thought, because Crystal stopped the interrogation immediately, and draped herself over Charles - and consequently over Edwin’s legs, much to his disapproval - to comfort him.

Of course, Charles’ words did explain everything, or they would have, except there was no abusive father, and no case.

Edwin untangled himself from the other two trying not to push Crystal on the ground while doing so, and moved to look out the window.

After a while, when she decided Charles looked comfortable enough, Crystal followed him and sat at his desk. Edwin almost hated to admit to himself that nothing about the situation was bothering him: not Crystal hugging Charles, nor her taking his usual place at the desk. She was that much part of the agency that he trusted her completely, almost the same way he trusted Charles. Even if, of course, the relationships between the three of them had considerably shifted during the years.

It wasn’t until a day later that Charles and Edwin had a chance to be alone again, and Edwin was determined to keep asking questions until he understood exactly what had happened to Charles. He was in “full stubborn research mode”, as Crystal used to call it.

There was no need, though, because Charles started speaking as soon as they passed through the door:

“I’m sorry about… Making up a case yesterday, I was worried you would tell Crystal the truth.” He chuckled.

“I wouldn't have said exactly the same thing I said to you.”

“Yes, you would have.” Charles continued, his smile turning more affectionate. Edwin had to admit that he was probably right. He had just been so confused and maybe Crystal could help him understand.

“Did it upset you?” He asked. “What I said?”

Charles shook his head. “No, of course not, it was just… Unexpected.” He moved closer, encircling Edwin's waist with his arms, so close their noses were brushing against each other.

“Why? You didn't think that I could want-”

Before he could finish the sentence, Charles pressed a small kiss on his lips, effectively shutting it. He stepped away then, looking decidedly lighter than he had the previous day. “No, I just didn't expect you to be able to say it so… what word did you use? Freely.”

Charles grinned, and slumped on the couch, patting the place next to him in invitation. It was so easy to slot into Charles’ arms, resting his head on his shoulder, and entwining their hands. It almost seemed like they had done nothing else for forty years, instead of just a few months.

“What about before the Cat King?” Charles asked when they were settled, Edwin’s fingers playing with the hem of Charles’ sleeve. “Have you ever thought about us… Shagging?”

“No, I would never have dared to even dream of it.”

Charles moved a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the shorter hair at Edwin's nape.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that now,” he said after a while. “But I would like it too, one day.”

Edwin smiled, turning to nuzzle Charles' neck and pressing a kiss there at the base of his jaw. “Whenever you are ready, I will be here. We have literally forever to figure it out.”

#deadboydetectivesappreciationweek #dbdcentral #renewdeadboydetectives #dbda #payneland #edwin payne #crystal palace #charles rowland

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pantheresssy · 10 hours

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In The News (Art Donaldson/Reader)

Hi there!

First fic and also first smut in a long time! I didn’t remembered that it was so complicated to write, but I think that’s pretty good (not in the end tho). Hope u guys enjoy.

Summary: You make an article not very favorable to Tashi and Art's marriage, and he just has to show you how well they are; by fucking you while talking about how much he loves her.

warnings: smut, +18 only, kind of dom!art (even when it doesn’t look like that, power play, r is a smart bitch, quick fuck, and art talks about tashi less times than I expected.

The marriage of the two biggest tennis stars is on the verge of collapse! Art and Tashi Donaldson share only two things in common: their profession and a daughter, since love is not equal.

Tashi seems very unhappy with where she lives and, to escape, she hangs out in the middle of the night with a loser named Patrick Zweig to have something more.

May be Art losing his so loved wife?

And just like that his morning was ruined.

This article was the first of many that would come, Art was sure. With those words, he would become even more the center of attention, this time bringing the worst part of his marriage to the surface. Nothing but perfection was what Tashi taught him to show when it came to that union, with that matter, everything she took care of, even the smallest detail, fell apart. Everything would turn into a snowball because of a few words and a photo of her leaving in the middle of the night.

Even though he didn't want to see anything else, Art picked up his phone and quickly looked for the name signed. Y/n Y/l. The first to really bother him. He just had to take matters into his own hands.

That's how he ended up in front of the door of your house, ringing the bell without stopping.

When you opened it, the look of surprise on your face almost made him smile. You were prettier in person than in the photos on the internet, not that he would really care about that. "Sir. Donaldson, what a surprise."

He rested his shoulder on the hinge of the door and looked at you. He had a serious expression, but his eyes sparkled with something that you guessed was amusement. "I can say the same. The news earlier today were quite a shock to me, you know,"

"Oh, you read it." The shock weighed on your face. You were using it to confuse him and play innocent, and it might actually be working, if the way he moved was any indication. "I'm sorry you find out this way, but a good story just need to published."

He clenched his jaw and gave you a tight-lipped smile. "I understand that, but you might have misunderstood the real situation. And I would like to clarify things to you."

Your smile brightened. "An exclusive interview? This would be wonderful, Mr. Donaldson. Come in, please." He hummed and passed by you when you took a step back.

Art sat in an armchair facing you, with the coffee table being the only thing separating the two of you. "Tashi was trying to convince Patrick to let her be his trainer, no date's like you said."

"But she was trying to convince him at 2 am? It's quite a anormal time for a job meeting, don't you think?"

He wanted to rip out all the quick answers you had and throw them away before it led to a more tragic ending. You weren't worried about anything other than having something fresh to say and you would wrap him in a web until you pulled the answers out of his mouth. "She didn't want me to know about it. Him and I have a hard past."

You nodded understandably and looked at him with sad eyes. What is she doing. "I know. You took his girl, but not before he took her from you."

Frozen in place. That's how he was. Frozen and looking at with quite scared. Nobody knew about what happened in Stanford, he didn't have anyone to tell, nobody was paying attention to Art Donaldson. "And how you assume this?"

Your eyes shone as if he had made the one million question. "Nothing better than have a history from the ones who experienced everything." And when your smile became more malicious, he finally realized.

"Patrick were never good on telling things," He affirmed, trying to put the control back on his lap. "But the lies he tell must be pretty convincing."

You agreed. "They were, if you being here is an indication."

Art felt fucked. He didn't know how to convince you. You were a journalist, even when publishing those things. It was your job to check the facts and not being fooled easily.

So he appealed for his best quality; his seduction.

He wasn't by far the ultimate guy on flirting, but he could do one thing or other. And, if he was being honest, it wouldn't be the worst thing trying to do it with you. After all, you're a pretty, fucking bastard woman, who he just wanted to make take back your own words.

Art rested his elbows on his knees and placed his hands in fists under his chin. This way, he would look at you underneath. "You know how to do a pretty number out of people,"

Again, your smile. "I would be worried if I don't. This is my job, Mr. Donaldson."

"You're good at it," He corresponded your amusement and ran his eyes on you. The way you're sitting didn't let much to look for, but it was enough to make him flinch.

You got silent for a little, waiting for him to take the lead. When it didn't happen, you took the ball back. "Well, you never told me how you felt about you ex best friend going out with your wife."

He dismissed the question. "I didn’t because there's nothing to feel." It wasn't as convincing as he thought, but it was a will-do answer.

You got up and went to a table behind the couch you were sitting, giving him the opportunity to drop his shoulders and close his eyes. "I could be more convinced if you had told me that you already know and didn't care. Tashi doesn't love you, does she?"

And again, he was fucked. "Of course she does. She wouldn't be with me if she didn't." And he wanted to believe his own words.

"She can't play anymore, Mr. Donaldson, but you can."

A glass of whiskey is given to him and he took without thinking twice. The first sip burned his throat, but the second seemed softer than the look you're throwing in his direction. "She's not with me for it, Y/n. Trust me." The amount of times he had justified himself was getting out of his math.

You sit on the center table, mirroring his position so you would be closer to his face. "If she's not then why she didn't let you retire? To live the the peaceful and easy life you desire?"

Art blinked and took a deep breath while thinking about what you asked. It was a hard question since he knew the reason why, but he wouldn't let you win. "She wants to see me go higher,"

The laugh came out of you easily, so much that you didn't even made any effort to put it out. "You know I'm right, Mr. Donaldson. Just say it." His eyes locked with yours and he stopped breathing.

No second passed before he putted his lips on yours, letting the cup on the floor to wrap his hands on your neck. And for the first time he was happy to have something from your mouth.

You were pulling him by his shirt, bringing him up so you could take off his clothes without success. His breathing was hot against your check and he was devouring you as if you were the last meal he would have. Maybe you were, who knows.

The steps you took backward led you to the drinks table, where he pressed you back with his pelvis, making you feel how hard he was just for that little moment. "Mr. Donaldson,"

Art tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head back. You sucked on his lip as you were forced away from his mouth and he groaned. It was something low and hoarse that made you grin.

"I don't wanna waist no time." He whispered.

You pushed him away, not too much, and took your clothes off. First the shirt, the jeans, your bra and underwear. All of this under his eyes. "Won't take yours off?"

He quickly got as naked as you, giving you a pretty view of his trobbing cock. Art pushed you on the table, your ass beating against the tray with the drink bottles and shaking everything out of the place. You loved the silverware but at that moment your mind was running with the idea of him.

His lips were making their way to your breasts, his tongue flicking your nipple sending a shiver to your back. Your hands were os his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin leaving red trails on it's way. "I I underestimated you."

He squeezed your thighs, his thumb rubbing against the Inside. "Why?" His lips kissed your belly and he kept his way down.

"I thought you were Tashi's pretty doll, that she could control and play anytime." You pulled his hair when you felt his tongue close to your pussy. "But here you are, about to fuck me against my table,"

He only shaked his head in agreement, still more focused on what his mouth was doing. His arms went around your knees and opened your legs wider. "I love Tashi," He said and licked a line in your slit.

You closed your eyes and dropped you head behind, smiling. "You do?" A hum.

"I fuck her every day. Not him. She carries my ring, we have a daughter."

His fingers caressed your clit, his tongue now going inside your opening. The moan that came out of your mouth were the most pornographic you ever gave. "Then why you're here, Mr. Donaldson?"

Art left his spot making your hips clench with a sharp spasm. His lips quickly went to your neck, letting small kisses that burned like fire in each part of your body. "To tell how much we love each other."

Your hands went for his cock, "Do it then, tell me."

Art stepped between your legs and he let your hands guide him. Reaching your entrance, his cock twitched as he felt the heat, and his hips went forward with a impulse. He was against your g spot.

His noises were the best thing you've ever heard. "We've been together for years, no fights, never breaking up. But you just had to put something to make us fight, don’t you?”

Art's hips moved away and came back, knocking against yours making a loud noise. The table became unstable beneath you. "I have to give people a good run for their money, Donaldson."

You clenched around him, pulling him tigh. Art looked to were you both were together and stared to go faster. Your smell was in the air between you. "Tashi is my wife," He whispered in your ear. "The one I put a ring on."

Your hands went down to his ass, squeezing and help him with his moves. "And look were you are now."

He could feel the angry again. Not even when he was pounding on you hard you stopped the smart mouth. The way you always knew what to say to let him lost.

Trying to put you into silence, he grabbed your knees. Now, your back was against the wall.

“When I end with you, I’ll be back to her. I might fuck her just like i’m doing to you.” The pleasure in your face made him go harder.

You placed your hands in the table and stretched your back, giving him a better view of your breasts. You could feel him everywhere inside you. “Same position too, Mr. Donaldson?”

Art didn’t respond, just kept his rhythmic, feeling he could cum anytime soon. But he won’t do it before you, he wanted to see you underneath him looking well fucked and sweating. And he would.

Everything was becoming too much. His touch, his smell, the way he pounded on you, his moans. Art was a sign for the eyes, and him being so concentrated on not coming just did it all better. His frowned eyebrows gave him a tougher expression, ruined only by his blue shiny eyes. How good he looked that way.

Tashi was a lucky mother fucker.

Your teeth pulled his lips, chin and cheek. You were biting all the places you could reach, digging hard when you got into his neck. Art’s moans were full of pain, but they were also carried by lust. The sensations were getting stronger as the time goes, you could feel that you would come anytime, so you took your fingers to your clit. The moves were fast and tight, following his owns.

You were lost.

“Cum for me,” He said in your ear and you felt your body shiver. So you did it. You were higher than you expected, feeling the waves of your orgasm hit hard on you. The sensation got stronger when he came deeper inside you.

Art didn’t take long for get out of you, stepping back and watching you squirm with barely disguised satisfaction. Being mother fuckers was a couple thing, as you could see. “I was hoping to have an exclusive interview.”

Art smiled and helped you get down, “Wasn’t that better?”

You raised you eyebrows and shook your shoulders. Your clothes were everywhere on the floor, so you took them and started to get dressed again. “It might have been.”

And he was convinced that nothing would come out about his marriage again.

————————————-

After stealing his best friend’s girl and being cheated on, Art Donaldson wants to have the word time!

Not happy about Tashi sneaking in the middle of the night, he decided to give the pay back but in a different way: in the middle of the day! This time, who could possibly be this girl? Her best friend from Stanford time?

Hey!

This was a ride!! Hope it all went good! My english isn’t the best but I tried to do it without google translate every word since I really don’t trust it’s ways of doing it. Please I’m sorry if it all went a mess.

See u in the next one!

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x female reader #mention tashi x art #challengers #art donaldson

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thoughtsonhurtandcomfort · 3 days

Text

Shun the Light - Ch 21 - Second Chances

Masterlist

Author's Notes: this one got long! I guess Dante had a lot to say.

Content Warnings: werewolf whump, vampire whump, beaten, bruises, broken bones, thirst, hunger, exhaustion, poisoned, fever, stomach ache, drinking blood, angst, emotional whump, survivor's guilt

----

They stagger into the house moments before the sun appears on the horizon. Knowing they won't make it upstairs, Dante guides Matteo to the living room, where they collapse onto the couch side by side.

Dante's muscles burn from so much exertion after years of little use. His bruised face and ribs ache so badly. His mouth is swollen from pulling his fang out. He's never been so tired or so thirsty.

Well...maybe not never.

Beside him Matteo struggles to catch his breath. He looks awful, malnourished and worn down. Dante can't believe he's here, that he found him, that he was never that far away all this time.

It hurts a little to think that he was so close but didn't return. Would he rather be out in the woods alone than here? At the same time, Dante feels a stab of guilt for not looking harder for him, or trying harder to stop him in the first place. No wonder Matteo felt like a burden.

Matteo opens his eyes and catches Dante staring at him. He gives a weak little smile.

"We made it."

Dante relaxes a little. "Thank you. I don't think I could have walked all that way on my own."

Before you found me, I don't know if I would have cared.

Matteo turns towards him. "Can I take a look?"

Dante nods and lets Matteo unbutton his shirt. Matteo draws in a sharp breath as he takes in the dark bruising coating the lower half of Dante's torso, which took the brunt of the beating.

"That looks bad..."

"I think something is broken." Dante groans. "When I move I can feel it."

Matteo tilts Dante's chin up and leans close to take in the damage to his face, then examines his arms, which he used to try to shield himself. Dante lays still and savors the touch.

"What do I do?" Matteo asks. "Do you still have any medicine? Can you even take medicine?"

Dante sighs and shakes his head. "I can't. It doesn't do anything. I just...need to get something to drink..." He starts to stand.

Matteo gently stops him. He pulls off his hoodie, just a tank top underneath, and offers his arm.

"Here. Take mine."

The pulse lightly drumming beneath Matteo's skin beckons Dante closer. He trembles, trying to maintain control despite his gnawing hunger.

"I - I can't. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," Matteo insists. "You need it bad."

Dante takes his arm and strokes his thumb up and down over the veins of his inner wrist, but still resists biting. "When is the last time you ate?"

"...few days ago. I haven't had much of an appetite, that's all. I'll eat tomorrow. Promise."

There was no real point resisting. Dante does need this, and Matteo needs to sleep, and he can give him that.

It's a little difficult with just one fang, but Dante bites down and takes a tentative sip, not wanting to overdo it. He's about to take another, when the taste first hits him.

Dante quickly pulls away and spits Matteo's blood onto the floor. "Ugh!" He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and spits out more.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's bitter." Dante licks his lips and makes a face. "Something is wrong."

Matteo is much worse off than he has been letting on. Dante felt it early on but there was so much else to worry about that he tucked it away. But now it's so obvious - the flushed skin, the strained breathing, the way he rubs his stomach when he thinks Dante isn't looking. Not eating for days, when he has money for food now.

Before Matteo can argue, Dante presses a hand to his forehead. Whatever Matteo was about to say falls away on a sigh as he leans his face into the touch.

His skin is feverishly warm. Dante's hand trails down to cup his cheek. When he starts to pull away Matteo grasps his arm and keeps him there.

With his other hand Dante brushes some damp curls from Matteo's face.

"You're not well," he says softly.

Matteo closes his eyes. "The wolf, it...ate something. Some kind of berry. I got r-really sick for a while there."

"You still are."

"I'm fine." Matteo finally releases Dante's arm and stands, shaky on his feet. "You need blood. Is there some in the fridge?"

"Yes, but I can get it - "

Dante tries to stand too but pain shoots through his ribs and he drops back to the couch with a ragged cry.

"Let me," Matteo insists. He pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over Dante's lap as if it will pin him down and Dante has no choice but to give in.

While Matteo slowly makes his way to the kitchen, leaning on the wall for support, Dante leans back and gingerly feels over his side to assess the damage. He hopes he has enough blood in stock to heal this...

"Here."

He must have dozed off for a moment because suddenly Matteo is there again, holding out a jar of blood. A second one sits on the coffee table.

"Thank you." Dante takes the jar and drinks slowly.

Matteo drops down beside him, out of breath again. But at least he poured himself some water, which he chugs down in the blink of an eye then slumps against the cushions panting.

"So...is that why you were going to come back?" Dante asks between sips. "Because you were sick?"

Beside him Matteo gets a little tense. He must know what Dante is really asking: is that the only reason you were going to come back?

"That was part of it. But even before that, I really regretted leaving. Not just because living in a tent sucks. I got a tent, by the way. But it's not just any of that. I - I missed you."

Dante pauses mid-sip. He sets the glass down and turns to Matteo. "You did?"

"Well yeah. I like you, Dante. You know that, right?"

Dante's silence answers for him. Matteo frowns.

"I wouldn't be here if i didn't like you. I know we haven't known each other that long, but...really, you know me better than anyone back home. You know the worst thing about me and didn't reject me."

"You did the same for me," Dante reminds him.

Matteo smiles sheepishly. "Being a vampire isn't even close to the worst thing about you," he jokes. "You play chess and watch QVC. You're like my grandpa."

"I'm old enough to be your grandpa."

"Well you look great for your age." The tension has dissipated and Matteo is relaxed, curled up on his side with his head against the back of the couch, looking at Dante warmly.

Dante clears his throat. He picks up his jar and takes a few more sips of blood before speaking again.

"So you want to stay."

"Yeah. If...if that's okay."

"It is. I'd like that. I'm just...afraid."

Matteo's face falls. "Of me?"

"No! No. Not at all." He could laugh at the idea of being afraid of Matteo. The wolf, sure, but Matteo himself? Never. "I've, um. Been here alone for so long. It's weird having someone else here. I don't really know how to act sometimes. Or what to say. But I like it. And I'm afraid to get used to it."

"Me too," Matteo says. The warmth has returned to his expression, along with understanding. "I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe you'll get sick of me. Maybe the wolf will do something terrible, or get me killed. I don't know. I just know that...I was happier here with you than I have been in a long time. And someone once told me that happiness is in short supply, and we should stock up whenever we can. Or, it was something like that - "

Matteo trails off. Dante is left speechless.

Hearing his father's words echoed back to him from anyone else would feel blasphemous. But from Matteo it is as if for a moment his dad is speaking through him, telling Dante it's okay. It's okay to have something good. It's okay to be happy. Your mother and I gave everything for you to be happy.

All these years he has hated himself for surviving when everyone who ever loved him was gone. He searched for meaning in it and found nothing but pain. And then he stopped searching, or hoping, for anything.

Well if the universe won't offer up an answer, he can decide for himself. Maybe he survived so that this house would be empty and waiting for Matteo to find shelter. What would have become of him if it wasn't?

"Can I - can I just..."

He reaches for Matteo, who doesn't recoil or ask what he wants. Dante pulls him into a loose embrace and he sinks into it willingly, eagerly even. One of his warm hands comes to rest on the small of Dante's back, the other on his hip. He smiles into Dante's shoulder.

"Thank you," Dante whispers.

After a long moment he reluctantly lets go. Matteo obediently pulls away too, blinking drowsily. He covers a big yawn with his arm.

"Come on, let's get to bed."

"Bed," Matteo sighs. "That sounds amazing. Do you think we can get up the stairs though?"

"I think so. The drink is already helping - see?" He opens his shirt. There is still considerable bruising, but the broken bones are healing. The swelling around his eye has gone down and he opens his mouth to show Matteo the start of a new little fang poking through.

Matteo is visibly relieved. "Good. Take the rest up with you."

"And you bring more water. And a box of cookies."

Drinks and snacks in hand, the two trudge up the steps, using the railing for support. Matteo reaches the top first and opens the door to the spare room - his room. He takes it in with a look of pure gratitude.

Dante stands at the door to his own room and watches him. Just the day before he thought he would never see Matteo again. Now here he is, and they have another chance to see if they can be happy despite what they are.

Matteo turns and gives him a tired smile. "Goodnight. And...thanks. Again. I'm just going to keep thanking you, so get ready for that."

"Goodnight, Matteo." Dante leans against the door frame, his mouth turning up at the corners just a little. "I'll see you tonight."

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 3 days

Note

Hi,

could you please do a Hannibal fanfic next (or whenever you have time), where he is rrying to have a baby with the reader?They come home after a party held somewhere else, with him already being turned on after she wore a short/exposing dress the whole evening?(nsfw in the end?) If you are comfortable of course.

Hannibal X Reader: Temptation

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), cream pie, badly translated Italian, pet names, dirty talk, talk of killing, talk of pregnancy, annoying men (aka professor Sogliato), no use of y/n.

Word count: 2,8K

You could feel his cum on your skin. You wondered, not for the first time, if anyone else could see it running down your thigh. You wouldn’t be surprised if they could. Your dress didn't leave much to the imagination nor did it even begin to cover the length of your legs. You’d been worried about what Hannibal would think of your attire. A small part of you worried he’d find it offensive but that thought died down when you saw the way he looked at you. He kept his composure for about ten minutes before pulling you to the nearest bathroom and filling you to the brim with his seed.

You and Hannibal moved against the dance floor in perfect sink. His hands rested on your body in a gentle manner, one very different then the way they had just mere moments as he manhandled you onto the sink counter. You could still remember the feeling of him inside you.

Hannibal was a very secure man. He knew where the two of you stood in your relationship, as strange as that relationship was. You were his. That had become clear when you’d asked him to bring you to Florence with him. And now here you were, surrounded by men of artistic knowledge, with your arm clinging onto Hannibals. He hadn't been worried about your outfit when he’d first seen it. He knew it would call everyone's attention but that didn’t bother him. If anything it made him feel aroused. They all wanted you but he was the only one you had eyes for. That thought alone made his chest fill with pride.

“I wonder what they’re thinking.”

Hannibal looked over at you before turning to look at who you were referring. There was a group of men on the other side of the room staring at you. Hannibal took a sip of his wine, eyes boring into the men.

“They’re probably wondering about the color of your underwear.”

“Hannibal!”

You whisper screamed at him, your hand hitting him lightly in the chest. He gave you a grin, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You furrowed your brow at him in worry. He placed a kiss to your lips before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Don’t worry amore mio i won’t tell them.”

You let out a light laugh, turning your head to the side so you could whisper back to him.

“I doubt you remember the color seeing how desperate you were to push it aside.”

Hannibal licked his lips at your words. Images of you flashed into his mind. He remembered the feeling of your skin against his, the way your lips parted as a moan escaped them. He could feel the desire beginning to fill him once more.

“You’ll have to refresh my memory later then.”

“You are insatiable Hannibal.”

“Only for you my dear.”

You smiled up at Hannibal, tugging him into a tender kiss. A small cough caught your attention. You and Hannibal turned to look at where it had come from. A small scowl made its way onto your face as you realized who it was. You covered up your distaste quickly, not wanting to cause Hannibal any problems.

“Dr. Fell how wonderful of you to grace us with your presence. This must be the lovely Mrs. Fell.”

You watched the man's eyes rack over your body hungrily. Hannibal seemed to notice it as well, his eyes hardening. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to shift his attention back to you. Hannibal's eyes softened as he looked at you. You nodded your head at him, silently telling him you were here to support him. Hannibal took a breath in, his hand finding yours before he turned to look at the man talking to you.

“Professor Sogliato. I hope you enjoyed your evening.”

“I must say my mind has been… distracted.”

He punctuated the word with another look at you. You raised your head in a menacing manner. You could always trust Hannibal to avenge you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t fight your own battles.

“You must be a very weak man if the mere sight of a woman manages to distract you. And a married one at that.”

Professor Sogliato gave a small grin.

“I assure you that's not what I meant, Mrs. Fell. In fact your husband is the cause of my distraction. Or rather his abilities to translate are.”

“I’m not sure what you mean Professor. You are well aware of my husbands talents.”

“That is true Mrs.Fell. But it seems i’ve only heard of his talents in Medieval Italian. I do wonder if he possess knowledge in other areas. Would he be able to recognize Dante Alighieri if he had his eyes upon it?”

You could tell Hannibal was beginning to become angry but it didn't compare to the rage you felt inside. You were very protective of Hannibal. Just as he was protective of you. So this interaction was proving a challenge to you both.

“I assure you my husband's knowledge is quite extensive.”

“I apologize Mrs.Fell i did not mean to offend you. I’m sure a woman such as yourself would know how to pick a suitable partner.”

The professor moved to kiss your hand goodbye but you tugged it away. He looked up at you with a shocked expression for a moment before forcing himself to smile. He gave a small nod to Hannibal before spinning on his heels and beginning to walk away. You gazed up at Hannibal catching the way he watched the professors back.

“Hannibal not here. Later you can-”

Before you’d managed to finish your sentence Hannibal had started speaking. But to your surprise the words didn’t come out in english. You watched in awe as Hannibal began to recite Dante’s first sonnet. The room went silent as he spoke in near perfect Italian. A grin made its way onto your face as you noticed the shocked expression on Professor Sogliato's face. Once he finished the room burst into applause. Hannibal turned to look at you and you couldn’t help but give him a smile. He returned the gesture, his hand moving to wrap around your waist.

‘Bellissimo amore mio.”

“Grazie bella.”

Hannibal gave you a kiss before turning to look at the professor. He wanted to kill him but that would have to wait. At the moment what he really wanted was to leave this place.

“We must be going, Professor. It seems my wife is tired.”

Hannibal extended his forearm. You wrapped your arm around his before the two of you made your way out of the party.

You made your way back home in silence, just enjoying each others presence. Once you made it inside you turned your back to Hannibal.

“Help me out of this will you?”

Hannibal moved towards you, his hands smoothing over your skin as he helped you unzip your dress. He watched it pool onto the floor as your bare skin was revealed to him. You stepped out of the dress making your way over to the drink counter without so much as sparing him a glance. Hannibal knew what you were doing. You often got this way when he did something that pleased you.

“How are you planning on killing him?”

Hannibal observed you pour him a glass of his favorite drink before facing him. You gestured to the chair with your hand, silently telling him to sit. He did as you asked, removing his suit jacket before sitting down.

“I was thinking we could invite him to dinner. Not soon obviously. That would be too suspicious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, moving over to him at a slow pace. Hannibal drank in the sight of you. He took a mental note of the color of your underwear. You had been right when you’d said he didn’t know the shade. You gave him his drink, leaning down to kiss his lips before beginning to sink to your knees. Hannibal widened his legs, allowing you to sit between them.

“And then what would we do? Poison him?”

“No poison is too merciful. I was thinking something more painful.”

“I could always chop his tongue off. Make sure he nevers speaks again.”

Hannibal's hand froze at your words, the glass he’d been holding pausing mare inches from his lips. You gazed up at him, your hands resting on his thighs.

“You're sexy when you’re mad.”

“Thank you.”

Your hand moved over to his pant zipper tugging it down slowly. Hannibal took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving your frame.

“I got wet watching you talk in Italian.”

“È così cara?” (is that so dear?)

You smiled at Hannibal, your hand moving over his boxers. His breath hitched at the action, hips bucking forward slightly. You put your hand into his underwear feeling his skin for a moment before freeing his member.

“Feeling aroused Hannibal?”

“How could I not? After having to control myself all night.”

“Not all night.”

Hannibal laughed at your reminder.

“You looked too good in that dress. Had to remind you who you belong to.”

“Is that so?”

You stroked his dick gently, thumb moving over the head in a slow manner. Hannibal closed his eyes, his head moving to rest on the chair he was sitting in. He felt your tongue move over his dick, causing him to swallow dry. The moment your mouth engulfed his member he forgot about his drink, his hand moving to hold onto your hair. You let him guide your movements, bobbing up and down his dick in a steady pace. Your nose brushes against his meticulously groomed hairs, the friction making you want to sneeze. You pushed the feeling away, opting to focus on the way his dick felt against your tongue.

It had taken a while for you two to realize your feelings for each other were not marly due to your own loneliness. It was something more carnal than that. At the beginning of your stay the two of you slept in different beds, opting to keep up the farce only on the outside of the house. But soon the two of you started to give into your desires. And now you couldn’t think of it any other way. Hannibal missed Will and Abigail but now that he had you the emptiness inside his chest seemed to dull a bit. You weren’t scared of him, if anything you enjoyed knowing what he was capable of. It made you feel safe.

Hannibal grunted as you continued to move against him. He was starting to grow closer and closer to his orgasm but he didn’t want to spill into your mouth. He tugged your hair forcing you to remove your mouth from him. You groaned at the feeling of his finger on your scalp. You looked up at him, finding a look of pure hunger in his eyes. You knew what he wanted and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You got up from the floor moving towards the bedroom. Hannibal watched your ass sway as you moved away from him. Before you reached the doorframe you spun to look at him. You beckoned him to you with your finger. Hannibal did as you asked, rising from his seat and following you.

You crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself in a way that allowed Hannibal to see your clothed cunt. He sauntered into the room dick still proudly on display for you. He moved over to the edge of the bed, eyes moving over your body. You moved to unclasp your bra, throwing it at a nearby chair. You shimmed down the bed, making yourself comfortable. Hannibal's chest rose and fell as he stared at you. He looked like a lion prepared to pounce.

And that was exactly what he did.

He removed his clothes, allowing himself to become completely naked before climbing onto the bed. You widen your legs allowing him to slot himself between them. His hands move to your underwear finger grazing over the wet patch. You whined for him, biting your lip.

“So they were red.”

“Where? They still-”

His hands grabbed onto the lacy fabric, ripping it with ease. You let out a shocked yelp at the action.

“Hannibal why would-”

“They were in the way.”

You continued to gape up at him.

“Don’t worry I'll buy you a new pair.”

“You better.”

You wrapped your legs around Hannibal, slightly pulling him closer. He could tell you were becoming impatient but he really couldn’t blame you. He had left you wanting for more when the two of you had left that bathroom hours ago. He planned on making it up to you now. He dragged his dick over your pussy, teasing you for a moment before inching himself in. He didn’t bother thinking of putting a condom on. In fact he hadn't had to worry about that the last few months.

You see, a couple of months ago he’d proposed the idea of getting you pregnant and to his surprise you’d accepted. You knew his desire for a child came from his mourning for Abigail but it also came as a consequence of his love for you.

Playing husband and wife had made Hannibal realize how much he wanted to create a family of his own and you seemed like the perfect one to do it with. You understood him in ways he didn’t think were possible. You didn’t judge him for the way he was, in fact you embraced him fully. You didn't have his taste for meat but you didn’t deny him his desires. As long as he was always truthful you had no issue with his peculiar pallet.

You moaned out his name, causing him to focus on the present once more. He was moving in and out of you at a torturous pace. He liked to make it last as long as he could. The feeling of you against him is like a drug on its own. And the sounds you made. Oh, they were like a beautiful song only he got to hear. He watched your breasts move as he thrusted into you, an image of you nursing his child flashed into his mind causing him to speed up. You gasped at the sudden change of pace, hands gripping onto the muscles of his back. Hannibal felt you beginning to clench around him, making it harder for him to move in and out of your in the speed he wished. He dragged your leg up, one hand bracing against the bed frame.

“Hannibal….”

“Shh just a bit more amore.”

With that he began pistoling into you. Your head knocked against the pillows as your body jerked backwards due to his strength. You were a moaning mess beneath him, your nails clawing at his skin. Hannibal hissed as he felt you drew blood.

“I’m gonna-ah fuck- i’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.”

“I can’t Hannibal i-”

“Hold it. Just a little more. I promise.”

You nod at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hand moves to circle your clit. His grunts became louder as his orgasm started to creep up on him. Seconds before his orgasm washed over him he called out your name. You forced yourself to look at him , brows furrowing with your need to cum.

“Let go bella.”

That was all you needed. Your juices gushed over him as you came. With a low groan Hannibal came too. His seed filled you up in a satisfying manner. The two of you basked in the afterglow for a moment before moving. Hannibal pulled out of you, his hands moving to close your legs.

“Keep it in dear. Don’t waste a drop.”

“I won’t.”

He placed a kiss on your neck before rising from the bed. You buried yourself into the bed. A couple of moments later Hannibal joined you. He tugged your body into his. Your frames slot into each other like a perfect puzzle. Hannibal's arm wrapped around your waist, his hand moving to caress your stomach. It would stick this time. He knew it would.

And if it didn't?

Well then you’d just have to keep trying.

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