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#and plonked himself on top of me
steine-druff · 2 years
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‼‼ ATTENTION ‼‼
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‼‼ HIM ‼‼
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xxblairexxss · 9 months
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Pick me up (Part 1)
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff
Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.
I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!
✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne
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“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.
The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.
“Hello…?”
“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.
“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.
You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”
“Yes, please.”
“Baby!” You cried out.
“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.
You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”
“What do you mean you don’t know?!”
“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.
“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.
You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”
“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”
“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”
He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.
“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.
“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”
“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.
“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”
“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.
“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.
“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.
“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”
“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.
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gojo-mochi · 5 months
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“C’mon baby show me that you care.”
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CW: Shanks is your dad’s friend in this au. Modern!AU. Fem!Reader. Toxic!Shanks. Age gap (Reader is in first year of College 20s and Shanks is about 40s), Degradation, dubcon, spanking, fingering, P/V, toxic coercion, manipulation. Slight voyeurism. Sex on top of a car. Nicknames (Baby and sweetie)
A/N: I um don't know what to say. Haha - hi? *twirls hair* I was listening to Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo while I posted this hah
WC:4.3k
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You first met Shanks at a family barbeque, he was an old friend of your dad but he didn’t really look that old to you. Sure he had some stubble going on but his hair showed no signs of graying or another like that. When your dad began to introduce you to him, you first noticed the scarring over his eye, he catches you staring and winks at you. “Careful, look too long and you might end up falling for me.” Your face turned as red as his hair at that moment, your dad didn’t seem to take it seriously as he laughed and smacked Shanks’s back, “Ah, still up to your old tricks huh, Shanks?” Shanks laughed back, finally saying hello to you properly. You wished that you paid more attention to your dad’s words at that time…
Months passed before you saw Shanks again, this time you found him with a woman wrapped around his arm, walking into the cafe you were already sitting at. You didn’t pay him much attention and focused back on your lecture notes, scribbling down notes after notes, lost in your studying when Shanks plonked down on the seat across from you. He gave you a wide grin and a wave of his hand, “Yo! Y/N, right? Long time no see!” You were a bit startled but pleasantly surprised that he remembered you. You tucked some hair behind your ear as you greeted him, “Ah that’s me. Your name was Shanks?” 
His eyes glinted as he leaned over closer to you, “Aw come on now, don’t tell me you forgot about little ol’ me that quickly?” He got really close to your personal space, placing a hand over your notebook even, making you focus solely on him. He stares at you for a couple of seconds, “Oh wow, you've gotten prettier since the last time I saw you? What’s your secret, hmm, baby?” That pet name he used went straight to your head, making you stutter as you try to think of what to say, Shanks chuckles, bringing his hand to softly pat your blushing cheeks. “Trade secret? I won’t tell if you don’t~” He winked, and his words were not lost on you, as he stood up to take the open seat directly next to you now.
Knocking your thighs together as he absentmindedly picks up your notebook and flips thru your notes. “Wow, smart and pretty, aren't cha?” He casually placed a hand on your thigh, his pinky faintly touching the hem of your skirt. “Hard to find girls like you nowadays…” He murmurs like he was talking to himself, you fidget under his touch, feeling hotness bubble up inside of you. “Um, Mister Shanks, can I have my notes back? I have an exam I need to study for.” He gasps dramatically, “Mister Shanks? I thought we were closer than that, baby.” He squeezes your thigh and lets go of it in the next second, placing your notebook back down, and getting up. You thought he was getting ready to leave but he took your phone from you and put his number in, throwing it back to you with a carefree smile, “If you ever need any help with your notes or anything else. Be sure to call me, ok, baby?” 
He finally leaves you after that, assumingly back to that woman he came in with but you didn’t bother to check as your heart and mind was reeling from that interaction with him. That night you stared at the number saved on your phone under the contact ‘Shanks <3’, you didn’t text him that night. You didn’t text him at all actually, chalking his actions up to it all being some sort of game to him. You were more focused on your studies at the moment, you couldn’t be roped up in some random older guy’s scheme. So more months pass, you did well in your studies and even found yourself a boyfriend! Forgetting all about Shanks during that time. 
Shanks did come over though, more often during this period, he and your dad started hanging out more so he was invited to some family dinners. He didn’t do much except for the occasional touches and multiple winks. He asks you about your studies and stuff you like at the dinner table. You try not to blush a lot when he talks to you, but he makes it hard from how he focuses his attention on you. Giving follow-up questions, remembering things you told him from the previous dinner, and even giving you small gifts from time to time. You were slowly warming up to his charms, falling for all his honeyed words and alluring touches. 
It was supposed to be another nice family dinner with Shanks again this week, something that you look forward to. But tonight as you walked into your home, you slammed the door behind you and walked straight to your room without a word. Your parents came to check up on you, knocking on your door and asking if everything was alright, but you shooed them off saying that everything was fine. But, everything was not fine, you just found out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for months now, you just confronted him earlier that day and broke up, so all the pain and emotions were crashing down on you. 
You buried your head under your pillow as you wailed and cried your little heart out, you heard the door creak open but mumbled “Go away.” to whoever came in. They didn’t seem to listen though as you felt your bed dip and a soothing hand start to rub at your back. You angrily shot up to yell at them, “I told you to go away!”, tears blurring your vision you could still see that this was not your parents but Shanks who came in to soothe you. His hand is still on your back as you gape at him, “Easy there, sweetie.” You threw your pillow at him, smacking him right in the face, you felt a little bit bad seeing him just take the hit full on without even dodging or taking his hand away. 
He grabbed the pillow and placed it by your side, “Feel better?” his hand continued to rub circles on your shoulders, lessening the tension you first felt when he came in. His tone was so soft and sweet, that your walls were melting bit by bit and you threw yourself on to him this time. Clutching at his shirt, bawling your heart out, spilling tears and all the things your ex-boyfriend ever did to you. His shirt was getting wet but he didn’t seem to care, pulling you in closer to sit on his lap as he tucks his chin on your head and envelops his arms around you. His scent invaded your nose, a musky and spicy cologne that he always wore, it made your head spin a bit. 
His hand weaves through your hair, petting it gently as he cooed to you, listening quietly to your woes. As your voice gets more hoarse later on, falling to whimpers and burbles, he leans back, cupping your face in his hands. You shake your head, trying to cover your face from him seeing it. “Aw, come on now, baby. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” He slowly takes your hand into his, and tilt your chin up to face him. You knew you looked like a mess right now, you felt like a mess right now. But as soon as Shanks saw your face, he gave you a long smooch on your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks, lingering on each kiss a bit longer than the last. 
“There’s my girl, that guy doesn’t know what he lost.”  
His stubble tickles you a bit with each kiss he places on you, making you feel almost giddy on the inside. His words and action were stirring something inside of you, making you do something that you wish you could take back. You surge forward, planting your lips on his, even going as far to poke your tongue out at him. “Mmpf!” Shanks was shocked at this sudden intrusion, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth sloppily, tasting a strange mixture of mint and something bitter, remembering that he usually likes to sips wine at the table. He pushes you away once your hand goes to paw at his bulge. 
Hands gripping down on your shoulders as he stares at you, wide eyes, lips parted and a bit swollen and shiny with your lipgloss smeared all over it. You teared up again, blubbering out an apology as shame filled your gut. “I-I’m really sorry, oh my fucking god, what’s the hell wrong with me? I-” Shanks holds your tear stricken face in his hands and wipes away the oncoming tears, shushing you gently, “It’s alright, haha, I’m not mad that a cute girl like you decided to come on to me, to be honest. But, tell me, sweetie, is this something you really want?” His tone got deeper, laced with something that made your stomach churn.
Shanks leans in to kiss you on the lips again, tracing your bottom lips with his tongue tenderly. Pulling away and chuckling as you whine, hands clutching on his shirt, eyes begging for more. “Now, now, your parents are still worried, waiting in the kitchen, I don’t think you want them to come in here and find us like this, now would we?” His hands travel down your chest, squeezing at them for a bit, before unbuttoning your jeans, his fingers dancing on the edge of your panties. “Don’t worry though, baby, after all, I did promise your parents that I’d help you. But only if you can beg me for it, can you do that for me?” 
His fingers dip inside your panties, feeling the wetness that was already forming, his tone changed again when he asked, “Can you say ‘Please make me feel good, Shanks?’”  You hiccup the words he wanted out, feeling your mind start to get hazy from his actions already, his other hand leads your head down onto his shoulder. “Good girl, now try to be quiet for me, alright?” He didn’t spare another second after asking that, his fingers moving quickly inside of you, plunging in with such precision that you felt an orgasm building fast already. You bit down on his shoulder as the almost shocking orgasm washed over you, muffle your screams and moans. 
Shanks fingers left you, making you clench around nothing, feeling utterly empty, he laughs outright when you whine. His digits poking at your lips, as you obediently opened your mouth to lick them clean. After you were done, he pats your head and gives you one last kiss, “I have to go now, sweetie. Be a good girl and try not to worry your parents, yeah?” When you tug at his shirt and ask him to stay, his face changes into a disappointed one. “I thought I told you to be a good girl, yeah? You can handle the night without me, can’t you? You’re a big girl, sweetie.” He sighs out, making you drop his shirt and shrinks back into yourself with a soft “Sorry..” escaping your lips.
His mood instantly changes upon seeing you so docile, cupping your chin up and pressing a heated kiss on your lips, with a promise of, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon, sweetie. I’ll be sure to show you what a real man is.” And with that, he left, closing your bedroom door behind him. You try to strain your ears to catch the words he was saying to your parents but they were too far away for you to make any sense of it. You crawled back in your bed, too tired to clean up or change, opting to just throw away your jeans, rubbing your thighs together as the slick in between started to feel uncomfortable. Sleep that night came fast but it was not peaceful, you tossed and turned, your mind replaying your breakup with your ex and what happened with Shanks in your bedroom. You didn’t know what to feel about it or the words he said to you. 
Shanks disappeared for a couple of weeks after that incident, you asked your dad once when he was coming over for dinner again but your dad just shrugged saying that Shanks seemed to be busy. Bitterness bubbles up in your heart, Shanks was just like those other guys, he didn’t care about you. You pushed down any feelings of attachment or affection for him, that was until, one day after you were done with class and was walking home. A red mustang pulled up right beside you, the window rolled down and Shanks winked at you from the driver seat.  
You didn’t know if you wanted to cry from happiness or anger at this point, you chose anger seeing at how casually he greeted you like nothing happened. “The hell do you want?” You spat out, eyebrows furrowed in, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Shanks got out of the car and came to embrace you, strong arms trapping you in his hold. The tears came out as you smack and hit at his chest, venting out your frustrations at him. Your meager attacks barely did any damage to him apart from the sparse grunts. Once you exhausted your strength and your body limped on to Shanks, him rubbing those same damning circles on your back that always seem to calm you down. 
Your cries settled down to barely audible whimpers and Shanks usher you in his car. You slump down in the passenger seat and he buckles you in, getting in the driver seat soon after. You lean your head on the window, watching the scenery pass you by, silently cursing yourself for being so easy. You should be more mad at him, curse him out more, hit him more, but when Shanks’ hand comes to squeeze your thigh and he gives that charming smile, your heart shoves your rational mind out of the way. 
“Why did you leave?”
Shanks turns down the radio, glancing at you, “What was that, baby?” You dry swallowed, feeling your throat burn a bit, he’s still using that nickname on you. “You left, without a word. You left me alone, after what happened, I mean, I thought that…” You trail off, pressing your head against the window, feeling childish for voicing out your feelings to a man almost twice your age. Shanks let out a hum, his hand on your thigh started to trace small circles and a repeating pattern on it. It was almost hypnotic the way he does it, you immediately felt your body calming down from his touch alone. 
“Sorry, something came up for me, and I got super busy. I wanted to contact you, but I don’t have your number, remember? And it’s not like I can contact your dad and be like ‘Hey, can you tell your cute daughter who I fingered bang in your house that I’ll be busy for a couple of weeks?’” 
You swat at his shoulder, with no malice or anger this time, giggling as you do so. “Shanks!” He sticks out his tongue at you as a retort. “I really am sorry, baby. That’s why I’m taking you somewhere special tonight.” You sink back in your seat, fiddling with your hands a bit. “Where are we going?” Shanks turns to look at you for a second, winking, “Somewhere special, I promise you’ll love it.” That ‘somewhere special’ turned out to be on top of a hill, overlooking the city. Far away enough from the light pollution so that the night sky shone like diamonds above the two of you. 
Shanks took your hand and led you out of the car to view the sights, “Pretty, isn’t it?” His hand slid down to your back, you scoff and cross your arms, “If you’re gonna say ‘But it is not as pretty as you’ I’m gonna leave.” Shanks laugh heartily at that, squeezing your waist and pulling you in his side. “Is that what boys your age say?” You chewed on your lips for a bit, thinking of what to say. “Why does that matter to you?” You felt a little bit smug for only a couple of seconds as Shanks pinned your back to the front of his mustang. Easily lifting you up and pushing you back on the hood, forcing his knee to come right in the middle of your skirt. 
He nipped at your neck as his sultry voice murmured out, “Cause I believe that I promised that I would show you what a real man is, isn’t that right?” Your hands clawed at his back, as his knee started to nudge under your skirt, rubbing a wet spot on your panties. “Wait-here? What if someone sees us?” Your nails dig in a bit as he replaces his knee with his hand instead, sucking in a heavy breath at feeling how drench you already gotten. “No one comes up here besides me and I think you like the idea of getting caught, don’t you? Daddy’s precious little girl is a needy slut, isn’t she?”
You liked to think that you were better than this, to let some older man degrade you and fuck you out in the open. Haven’t you learned your lesson from your last ex and hearing all those stories fuck boys and frat boys around campus. Shanks exude the same kind of energy those guys have, confident, arrogant, charming, all wrapped in a hot package with red hair and clean stubble. Speaking of ‘packages’ you wonder if Shanks can back all his talk, as Shanks’ hand expertly began to plunge in and you of you in a swift pace. Your thighs shakes and tense up, as your moans and whimpers fill the night air.
Shanks bit down on your neck hard enough to leave a painful mark on it, you hiss in pain, clawing even deeper on his back. The sudden pain with his increasing pace made you reach your peak hard, legs spasming out, ankles locking in behind his back. His hands roughly pull up your skirt and rip open your blouse, a few buttons breaking off in the action. Tugging down your bra and latching a mouth on your nub. Biting at one and tweaking the other one with his hand, it was painful to say the least, you tried to tell Shanks just as much but he just replied with; “Hah? You can take it, can’t you? You’re a big girl. Smart, pretty, more mature than the other sluts at your campus, right?” 
He wasted no time, sliding your panties to the side, you didn’t even realize that he got his cock out and was already slapping it against your sensitive bud. You flinch and try to crawl away, pushing yourself further back on the hood of the car, but Shanks shakes his head and makes a disappointed noise at you. “You’re really going to do this now? Tch, looks like I was wrong about you after all.” He didn’t make a move to pull you back in, just leaning back and shaking his head once more as he looked down at you with a disapproving glare. “Guess, I’ll just take you back home.” 
Your heart leaped into your throat, your stomach twisted into a pit of anguish, you grabbed Shanks’ wrist and yelled. “Wait! No, I’m ok now! I just-I just was surprised, but I want to do this, I swear-please don’t leave me again.” Your tears welled up again as you blubbered on pleas for Shanks to stay. Shanks yanks you forward, bringing you chest to chest with him, “You really want this?” You nod frantically, Shanks smiles at that, wiping away your fat tears with the back of his hand. “You know what to say then, right? Tell me how much you want my cock, sweetie.” 
You nod again, gulping down shakily, “I want it, I want your cock to fuck me, please, Shanks, please.” Shanks gripped your chin forcefully, applying pressure as his eyes darken over when he stared down at you. “Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl now and listen?” “Yes, yes, please, I’ll be good for you, I’m a good girl for you, Shanks.” Shanks growls, releasing your chin and twisting your body around so your back is now to him, as he bends you over the hood of his car. “Good, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna get punished for what you did earlier.” 
You didn’t really know what you did that warrant a punishment but you were too afraid to get on Shanks’ bad side again and make him leave so you complied. Hands scrambling to find purchase on the slippery surface of the car’s hood as you got spanked. You cried in pain, begging for him to go a bit softer but he answered you with another spank, “Take your punishment like a big girl.” Smack! Smack! Your legs barely were able to keep you up at this point, being pushed aside by Shanks’ knees as he positioned himself behind your entrance, his bulbous head gliding over your folds twice. 
Collecting some of your arousal on his tip before he started pushing it in, the stinging pain combined with the pain of being stretched out almost made you pass out but you held on. Shanks lets out a hefty sigh as he fully bottoms out inside of you, hands reaching over to play with your clit to give you some relief as he angles his hips back and slam into you. Over and over again, wet plaps sounded in the air mixed along with his grunts and your soft whimpers and moans. His other hand holds on to your hips firmly, pulling you back on his cock as you bounce off with each smack.
Whether it was because Shanks was a good fuck, the pain and exhaustion of everything before, or a combination of all, you felt another orgasm coming on quick. Your stomach coiled up but your lips couldn’t form any words to let Shanks know that you were about to burst. But he felt it though, from how much your cunt started to tighten up around him. 
“That’s it, baby, take it, take my cock in that slutty pussy of yours.”
He starts to go faster.
Plaps Plaps Plaps
“Not such a fuckin bitch, anymore, aren’t cha? Just needed to get fucked and you’re behaving well, again.”
Plaps Plaps Plaps Plaps
“Nghh, fuck, good girl, such a good pussy for me, fuck, I love you.”
And with that being said, you released the coil in your stomach, squirting all over his cock, as Shanks groaned and pulled out, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you down on your knees in front of him. “Open.” He grasped open your chin, tapping his cock on your cheek until your tongue lolled out, spurts of hot white cum covered your face and mouth. He lets go so you could swallow down the bitter substance. After a few seconds of panting from the both of you, Shanks leaves you for a bit, as you hear the sound of his car door opening and rustling, Shanks comes back with a bag. 
Grabbing some towels and wipes from the bag, he starts to clean you up, gently and lovingly, all the while praising you for your effort. Your mind was in turmoil after this sudden switch, your thoughts went back to what he said before. “I love you.” You wondered if he really did mean that, “There, all cleaned up, you did a great job, baby.” He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead and helped you on your feet, ushering you in the passenger seat once more. You slumped in the chair, inhaling the crisp clean of his air freshener and the leather seats. 
“Now, where do you like to shop for clothes, baby?” You tilt your head at his question, making him chuckle; “What? I can’t let you go back home looking like that, now can I? Don’t worry though, I’ll pay for everything, just let me know what you want and where to go, sweetie.” He started up the car and began heading back down the hill. Turning the radio on on a nice volume, as the two of you rode in silence for most of the time. You look over to him alot, with fear, confusion, admiration, love, lust, and so many other emotions swirling around inside of you. 
You needed answers but you didn’t know what questions you should ask first. Do you really love me? What was that about? Do you do this to other girls too? Why did you hurt me? What am I to you? However the only question that you ended up asking Shanks that night was; “Can I see you again soon?” Shanks looks at you, with that charming smile of his, and brushes his hand on your cheek; “Of course, baby, I’m not letting you go that easily.”
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nvoirs · 1 year
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maybe just cute and giggly sex with re2 leon please?🥹 cus im so soft for re2 leon fr i have another heart just for him. (also love!!!! your writing!!!❤️)
HELLO?? THIS IS SO CUTE! Love you to anon ♡
~~~
Lazy days with Leon were your absolute favourite. Just lying on the couch cuddled up watching some cooking show and pointing at the dish being made telling Leon you guys should try making it yourselves. His hands slipped under your loose fitted t-shirt cupping your soft breasts and massaging them. You let out a warble moan followed by a giggle as you felt Leon leave a smatter of kisses on your sensitive neck as he pressed himself into your back.
“Leon stop- you know I'm ticklish there!” Thrashing around your giggles increased in volume, a few stray tears left your eyes from the intense tickling session. 
A short gasp released itself from deep within your throat when you felt Leon squeeze your nipples.
“So sensitive.” He whispered into your ear seductively. You couldn't take him seriously and burst out laughing.
“No way Leon Kennedy does it again with the dirty talk.” He gawked at you looking offended, “But it worked didn't it?” You hummed picking yourself up off the coach, smoothing your ruffled t-shirt down.
 “It would work better on my nice soft bed.” He rolled his eyes, “You mean our bed.” 
“Hey! I literally sleep on it more than you.” You clicked your fingers in his face as you sauntered to your shared bedroom. Leon followed in suit, plonking his body on the mattress beside you, his hand resting underneath his chin admiring you. The infatuation he held of you was high, you always looked so ravishing in his eyes that he hadn’t even realised your consistent blabbering.
“Leon, are you even listening to me? You're looking at me like I’m candy.” you chuckled, twirling a piece of hair around your index finger, you weren’t even doing anything remotely seductive but Leon couldn’t help himself.
“You're my candy.” his luminous eyes seemed to shimmer brighter as he crawled on top of you, caging you between his broad, muscular arms.
“You seriously get me so worked up, I’m fucking hard it’s your fault.”
Momentarily gasping you clutched a hand to your beating heart.
“My fault? How rude but maybe I could help.” You purred pushing his heavy arm aside, and sliding out from beneath him. He looked at you quizzically but he figured out pretty quick what you wanted.
A flurry of clothes is what you could describe what happened next. Not that you were even wearing much, no wonder Leon was turned on by your skimpy shorts and thin t-shirt. Your nipples poking through ought to bring you shame, but you just loved the way Leon couldn't control himself.
You slid yourself onto his throbbing cock, and you both exhaled from the divine pleasure you both felt.
“So tight, your always so tight.” Leon squinted observing the view in front of him. Your naked back was on display, the golden chain of the anniversary gift Leon gifted you clear in view. He could see your front side in the wardrobe mirror and it did things to him.
Lips all puffy and swollen from consistent making out, markings adorned your skin reddish and purple combined. He had matching ones on his collarbone, and he chuckled when he thought about you begging to mark him up.
“I'd start moving if I were you.” He squeezed the flesh of your backside making you jolt upwards. "Or do you need a little help doll?”
“Doll? since when have you ever called me that.” You chided. “Leon I wanna see your face, I can't see it.” You pouted.
“Fine, but turn around without getting of baby.” Shocks ran through your body, and you let out a wanton moan fall passed your o shaped lips as you slowly turned to see Leon.
“Welcome home.” He said rolling his eyes.
“Thanks.” Without warning you began to bounce a top of him, causing him to release a string of curses squishing the flesh of your hips between his skilled fingers.
“Hmm yeah, can you not go faster?”
You scoffed glaring at him before pinching his cheek.
“You'll cum in a matter of seconds if I do.” You grinned, grinding yourself against his fat cock as it twitched inside of you.
“Sorry, but your such a stuck up princess.” He groaned, he grabbed you by the waist and began to push you down on him faster reaching so deep inside of you he was surely touching your cervix.
“F-fuck Leon.” Your hand dropped from his shoulders, as he continued his rapid actions your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
“Doesn't matter how fast fuck- I cum, It's going to be inside you regardless baby.”
You smiled at those words, your mouth opening and closing but no words flowing through.
“Gonna cum, doll?” You smirked at the new found petname, but nodded vigoursly.
“Cum for me then, C'mon now I know you can do it.” A particulary load moan erruputed from the midst of your throat. Choked sobs of Leon's name emmiting between your plush lips as you came all over him.
“That's a good girl, now my turn now.”
He pushed you onto your back, the welcoming softness of the pillows helping you come down from the euphoric high.
Your legs shook as Leon continously rutted inside of you taking the lead.
“Leon! S'to much.” You wailed, he grabbed your left hand intertwining his fingers between yours before swiftly placing a sweet kiss on you thigh before carrying on.
“I know baby, I know but I'm just so darn close just a little more please?” His whines had your heart melting, as you squeezed his hand comfortingly.
He got the message as he lifted your legs penetrating impossibly deeper inside of you. Releasing his warm load deep inside he allowed your legs to slip out of his hands, both of your panting and raspy breathing mixed together as he slowly pulled out watching his seed ooze out of your clenched pussy.
Pushing it back in with his fingers your small mewls made him utterly full with pride as he layed down beside your naked body. Trailing a finger upon your shoulder blade and dragging it down to reach your puckered lips.
You turned onto your side, your noses touching as you softly giggled warming Leon's heart.
“So cute.” He wrapped his arms around you, laying his head between your tits making you squeak.
“Leon!”
“What? They make great pillows.”
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wzrd-wheezes · 4 months
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The Engagement Arrangement - Sirius Black x Reader/James Potter x Reader.
Hey!!! Can I request an arranged engagement with James because they grew up in wealthy families and they're close friends but as she gets to know the boys better Sirius falls in love with her? Mutual pining with obstacles with be the death of me.
AN: after actual months of writing this fic, it's finally finished. I posted the first part of it months ago but decided to finish the fic and repost it as a complete work. i'm so fucking proud of this and i really hope you enjoy it. this is the longest thing i've ever written so please please please give it a reblog and let me know what you think. ily <3
Contains: some angst, a lot of fluff, pining, swearing and just general good times haha. enjoy!
9k words
The engine of the car hummed quietly causing the window to vibrate as Y/N rested her head against the glass. She fiddled with the hem of her dress as she gazed out of the window, the trees a blur of red and orange as they whizzed past. 
“Will you stop fiddling with your dress!” Y/N’s mother snapped, whipping her head around to glare at her daughter, “I won’t have you at the Potter’s house with your dress all creased, what will they think of us!?” 
Y/N only murmured in response, barely paying attention to her mother’s nagging as she smoothed her dress out. The car pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway outside of the Potter’s manor. The autumn sunlight beat down on the vast lawns and bounced off of the ornate windows, casting patterns on the driveway. She sighed as she got out of the car, mentally preparing herself for the afternoon at the Potter’s.  
Coming to the Potter’s house for lunch wasn’t a frequent occurrence, yet every time their car pulled up outside, Y/N filled with dread. The lunches were alarmingly boring with her parents talking tirelessly with Mr and Mrs Potter. The Potter’s had a son, who Y/N was yet to meet as he attended a boarding school. Y/N’s mother had explained to her that James had been sent to boarding school as he was rather unruly, and they were trying to get him to settle down. However, now that he, like Y/N was 18, had finished school and returned home. 
Mrs Potter greeted them graciously at the front door, giving her parents a hug and Y/N a squeeze on the shoulder. She led them into the sitting room and began to bustle around making tea. Y/N perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to avoid crumpling her dress and infuriating her mother again. Just as she had done in the car, Y/N stared out of the window, her eyes drifting over the garden that seemed to sprawl for miles. Leaves floated down from the trees, landing in a pile on the floor before being dispersed by the soft breeze.  
“Nice of you to finally join us, Son.” Mr Potter spoke, easy smile resting on his face. Y/N was pulled out of her daydream, her eyes darting towards the door where a young man was standing, leaning lazily against the door frame. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, the top button of his shirt undone and his dark curls falling messily into his eyes. 
“Mr and Mrs L/N.” he nodded, “Nice to see you both again.” 
“Ah, James.” Y/N’s father exclaimed, “It’s been a while! You must have grown a good few feet taller since we last saw you.” 
“My career as a dwarf never really took off so I decided to just let it go.” James joked, earning himself a disapproving look from both of his parents. 
“James,” Y/N’s mother swiftly interjected, “You haven’t met our daughter, Y/N. She’s just finished school as well. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.” 
“Nice to meet you,” James grinned, stepping into the room and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say. Her mother harshly nudged her leg, urging her to reply. 
“Yeah. You as well.” 
James plonked himself in the armchair in front of the window that Y/N was previously looking out of. She frowned slightly, annoyed that he was obstructing not only the view but also the distraction from the torturously boring conversation that their parents were having. The two teenagers sat silently, every so often glancing up at each other. One time, James rolled his eyes and mimed putting a gun to his head, Y/N had to try her best to stifle a laugh. Clearly, she didn’t try hard enough as she was shot another one of her mother’s infamous disapproving looks. 
“James, dear, why don’t you go and show Y/N around the gardens while we talk? We have some important business to discuss, and it will be terribly boring for you both.” James’ mother suggested. Y/N let out a sigh of relief and eagerly stood up, grabbing her jacket from the coat stand. 
For the first few moments, they didn’t speak a word to each other, just silently making their way through the hall towards the large front door, buttoning up their coats as they walked. It was only when they were out of earshot that James finally spoke. 
“I didn’t think it was possible to die of boredom, but I genuinely think I was close.” He said dramatically.  
“We were only sat in there for half an hour.” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.  
“Yet it felt like an eternity.” 
James pushed open the front door and they were greeted by the crisp autumn air. Their breaths clouded in the chill, damp air and they both wrapped their coats a little tighter around themselves.  
“What d’you reckon they’re talking about?” Y/N asked, “What’s so important that we can’t be there to hear them discuss it?” James shrugged, staring up at the cloudless sky. 
“Who knows? Probably just boring adult stuff. I tend to just tune it out whenever they start speaking.” Despite his nonchalant response, there was a hint of wistfulness in his expression. It was almost as if the thought of having a genuine adult conversation with his parents seemed utterly foreign and unappealing to him. 
“They’re probably just sat moaning about us.” Y/N laughed, “That’s what adults do when they get together, isn’t it? Moan about their children?” 
“Nah, not my mum and dad. They genuinely think the sun shines out of my arse.” James chuckled. 
“Didn’t they ship you off to boarding school because you were too ‘unruly’” Y/N said, making air quotes with her fingers. James’ cheeks flushed at her comment and he let out an awkward chuckle. 
“Yeah, that was a bit of an exaggeration on mum and dad’s behalf. They made it sound like I was some feral child. In reality, I was just a normal kid who liked to have fun.” 
Y/N felt a bit guilty for poking fun at him about the boarding school ordeal. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, despite how flippantly he brushed it off. 
“They didn’t have to be so dramatic,” James continued, “But it’s all in the past now. I’m back home and everything’s fine,” He shrugged, the smile returning to his face. Y/N wasn’t quite so sure how accurate that statement one. 
They chatted as they walked through the gardens, comparing their school experiences, talking about their upbringings and their parents. Y/N felt sad that James had been away for the majority of their childhood, it would have made the many dinners with their parents a lot less painful if she had had someone her own age there to speak to.  
 The more time that Y/N spent in James’s company, the more she realised just how much they had in common. They had similar senses of humour, enjoyed engaging in sarcastic banter and had a mutual disdain for the social niceties that dominated their families’ get-together. For his part, James enjoyed speaking with Y/N as well. Unlike with the adults in his life, he didn’t have to keep up an exhausting façade. He could be frank with her and didn’t have to worry about offending her with his snarky wit. 
The conversation turned back to the topic of their schooling. Y/N described her school life and her friends, while James told stories of pranking students and teacher alike, and generally being a nuisance. James had a twinkle in his eye as he recounted some of his more mischievous antics. It was clear that he had no regrets and was, in fact, quite proud of all the trouble he had gotten into over the years.  
“I’m pretty sure I was on my last chance before they got rid of me,” he admitted as they walked back to the house, “In our final year, my friends and I were planning to pull a big stunt during exam week, it would have definitely gotten us kicked out. Only, my friend Peter ended up talking us out of it in the end. Probably for the best.” As he finished speaking a hint of regret crossed his face. 
When they finally returned to the house, having been gone a good hour or so, they found their parents still sat in the same spot they were in before they had left. It looked as though time had stood still while they were outside. 
“Ah, there you two are! We were just about to send someone out to find you! We really need to talk to you both, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down for a moment.” Mrs Potter smiled. James sighed inwardly and shot Y/N an apologetic look. Just when he had been enjoying himself, their parents’ demands had sent him back to reality.  
“We’ve been discussing the future,” Y/N’s father began, “And now you have both finished school we believe it’s time to start making preparations for the future.”  
Y/N and James both leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued by what their parents had to say. James let out a nervous chuckle, not sure what Y/N’s father meant by that.  
“Preparations for the future?” he repeated, turning to look at his own father, “What do you mean? Like, getting involved in the family business or something?” 
“Not particularly.” James’s father said. 
“You’re both intelligent, young individuals with bright futures ahead of you. The pair of you both come from good families, and we think it’s time that the two of you started settling down.” Y/N’s mother explained. 
Both Y/N and James sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to try and figure out exactly what their parents were talking about.  
“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” James asked, not wanting to believe it, “You’re seriously suggesting that at the ripe old age of 18, we get married to each other?” The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully formed the thought. 
“That’s ridiculous!” Y/N exclaimed, “You can’t just arrange our romance like we’re some sort of commodity. That’s absurd!”  The notion of being forced into a relationship with James with utterly foreign to her, especially since they had only met mere hours ago. Mrs Potter looked at them both with a stern expression. 
“This isn’t something that we’ve considered lightly.” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument, “We believe that the two of you will make a wonderful couple, and with time may even grow to love each other.” 
“There is much more than that to our proposal,” James’s father said solemnly, “It’s not just about romance. In this particular case, settling down is more about stability.” 
James and Y/N just stared at each other, feeling the full weight of their parents’ decision bearing down on their shoulders.  
“But what about what we want?” James snapped, gesturing to the two of them. 
“At the end of the day, this isn’t about what you want.” Mr Potter shook his head, “This is about your families and their futures, not just your own selfish desires.” 
The statement hit both of them hard, and for a moment, the two teenagers were completely stunned. Their own family was more important than their own happiness, their own dreams. The harsh reality of their situation slowly began to sink in, and the weight out the responsibility felt nearly too heavy for them to bear. 
James paced back and forth across his spacious bedroom, seemingly unable to settle in one place. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to wrestle with the situation that they had been forced into. Y/N was watching him, lounged on the edge of his bed with a mug of tea in her hand. 
It had been a few days since their parents had broken the news to them and they had since decided that it would be a good idea for Y/N to move in with the Potter’s. It was as if her parents couldn’t wait to get her out quick enough and had all of her things boxed up in a matter of hours. 
“What do you think of all this?” he finally asked, stopping in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. 
“Are you joking?” she scoffed, “You have to be joking. ‘Settling down’. Are you serious?” She sat so that she was upright, putting her mug down on the bedside table.  
“Are our parents mad? Have they actually lost it? Who proposes something like that to teenagers these days?” She could barely hide her incredulity. 
James sighed, feeling like his head was going to explode from a sudden rush of confusion and emotions. It felt so surreal, like this was some kind of elaborate joke that their parents were just waiting to reveal the punchline of.  
“I mean, you seem great and all and sure, we get along well enough, but is that really a solid basis for deciding to spend the rest of our lives together?” He raked a hand through his unruly hair. In his mind, there was no possible way they could make this situation work. 
“If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it would be hilariously tragic,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to ease the onset of a headache. 
“My friends are supposed to be visiting for a few weeks.” James said, sitting down on his bed, “I suppose they’ll make me cancel now you’re here. Y’know, with them wanting us to spend time together and all.” 
Y/N shook her head, feeling a surge of sympathy for James. He’d mentioned earlier how much he was looking forward to seeing his friends again and she couldn’t help but imagine how disappointed he would be if he had to cancel on them.  
“That’s a pain.” she said, “If it was up to me, I’d leave you alone to do whatever you like. I mean, fuck it, why not just let them come over anyway? If we’re getting married then I’m going to have to meet your friends eventually.” a sort of half-smile crossed her face as she looked at James. 
“Really?” he asked, turning to face her, “You wouldn’t mind if they still came over?” 
“Not at all!” 
“Wicked.” James grinned, “I’ll have to try and convince mum now.” 
Somehow, James managed to convince his mother to allow his friends to stay and they arrived a few days later. w fresh faces around. The two boys bounded down the driveway and tackled James into a somewhat clumsy hug, lanky adolescent limbs all over the place. James laughed and greeted his friends fondly.  
“So, this is the future wife then?” one of James’s friends grinned as he introduced them, “I’m Sirius. Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry that you have to marry this prat.” 
“Not as sorry as I am.” Y/N mused. Sirius was just as tall as James but had a slightly more slender build. His dark hair falling straight down to his jawline, unlike James’s messy curls.   
“It’s a rough deal, I’ll admit.” The other one said. He was taller than both James and Sirius and awkwardly held a hand out for Y/N to shake as he introduced himself, “I’m Remus, by the way.” 
“Thanks for the condolences.” she laughed, “I’m Y/N.” 
James seemed to loosen up a bit now that his friends were here. Y/N had barely seen him smile the last few days. He’d spent the majority of his time moping around the house trying to come up with a plan to get them both out of this mess. 
They decided to go and explore the surrounding countryside, the boys were keen to show Y/N the places that they had gone when they were growing up. James had said he felt too cooped up in the house, like they were constantly being watched by his parents and was eager to get out.  
They meandered around the grounds of Potter Manor, the boys occasionally sharing anecdotes about the summers that they used to spend at the Potter’s. Sirius pointed out the tree that James fell from when he broke his arm when he they were 12. The boys all looked at it fondly like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.   
Sirius and Remus, much like James, were charming and playful and Y/N was pleased with how well they managed to mesh with her sense of humour. She realised, over the course of the afternoon, that Sirius had a particular way of speaking that made her heart flutter. There was something about it, deep, silky and rich like melted chocolate. A certain kind of gentleness to the way his voice carried that felt like he could make whoever he was speaking to feel as if they were the centre of his attention.  Y/N felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she tried to push the thoughts of Sirius from her mind.   
As the sunlight began to fade into the afternoon sky, the group made their way back to the manor. Y/N knew that they would soon be sitting down for dinner, but she wasn’t quite ready for their afternoon to be over quite yet. She had gotten to know the boys better and was having fun hearing the stories of their school days. The idea of going back to an awkward dinner with James’s parents was unsettling. 
Dinner was a bit of a bust; James’s parents were once again preaching the joys of settling down young and the importance of family and tradition. James seemed to be trying his best to get through the meal without any trouble, occasionally shooting an apologetic look at Y/N. Sirius and Remus sat awkwardly opposite them, doing their best to dodge the Potter’s invasive questions about when they themselves would get married. 
Every so often, Sirius would nudge Y/N’s foot with his own under the table. It first started when Mrs Potter made a comment about wedding dresses, but as dinner went on, it became more and more frequent. He would tap his foot against hers, then when she would look up at him he would pull a face or wink at her. She tried her best to focus her attention on the food in front of her, but it was hard not to be distracted by Sirius’s constant prodding under the table. The gesture felt flirty, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t help but look back at him every time they made contact.  
The first time that Y/N and Sirius were alone together was a few nights later when Y/N got up in the middle of night to get a drink. She was restless and unable to sleep, still not used to the unfamiliar house that she was now living in.   
Sirius was already in the kitchen when she got in there, hoisted up on the kitchen counter, dimly lit from the small stream of moonlight that shone in from outside. 
“Mrs Potter will kill you if she sees you sitting up there.” Y/N whispered. Sirius snapped his head round to look at her, clearly not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. 
“Let her try.” he said, not seeming too worried about the potential consequences of his behaviour. He stayed put on the counter, looking down at Y/N with a mischievous grin.   
“On your head be it.” she shrugged, grinning at him, “What are you doing up so late anyway?” 
“Couldn’t sleep.” he shifted his legs so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the counter, “What about you? Doing a bit of late-night wedding planning? 
Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. She had spent so much time over the last few days trying to resist his playful flirting, but he was making it increasingly difficult. With every smile and joke, she felt herself warming up to him. 
“Oh, of course,” she scoffed, “I was just about to draw up the first draft of our wedding invitation.” 
“Well, if you need a hand writing them out then I’ll have you know that I have lovely penmanship.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Y/N said, “But I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far.” 
“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked gently, his face becoming more sombre. 
“I mean, James is lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to marry him, and he doesn’t want to marry me.” 
Sirius just nodded, for once in his life at a loss for what to say. Y/N crossed the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She pulled herself up onto the other counter, opposite Sirius. 
“Y’know, I nearly ended up marrying my own cousin once,” He said bluntly. Y/N spluttered, nearly spitting her drink out. “You think yours and James’s families are mental? You should try meeting mine.” 
Wait, what?” she asked, looking at him in disbelief.  
“Yep. Old fashioned family traditions. Similar situation to you and James. They wanted me to settle down and get married and move out of the family home.” he said, “Guess that’s one thing we have in common then. Our fucked up families.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Sirius’s crassness, but she felt a sense of validation knowing that someone else knew exactly what she was going through. 
“Yeah, I guess it is,” she said with a small smile, “So, what happened? How did you get out of the marriage?”  
“I ran away. Came to live with the Potter’s for a few weeks until school started again. I didn’t tell them exactly why of course. James and Remus knew and obviously thought it was hilarious.” his smile quickly faltered, “Haven’t seen my parents since.” 
“Well, I’m glad you escaped.” Y/N said softly. She could see that the situation with his parents was still very raw and painful for him, as much as he tried to brush it off. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
They stayed in the kitchen chatting for hours. Y/N told Sirius about her childhood and her school years and he exchanged stories about his childhood before he ran away. They only realised how much time had passed when a small chink of sunlight streamed through the window.  
“Shit. I didn’t realise the time.” Y/N gasped, hastily standing up. 
“Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?” Sirius grinned, he slid off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her, “I’ll see you in a bit.” 
His comment made her face flush and she hoped that he hadn’t noticed it in the dim early morning light. She quickly composed herself and nodded at Sirius. 
“See you,” she said, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 
Y/N and James seldom spent any time alone together with Sirius and Remus staying at the Potters. Secretly, she was grateful, it was nice to have a bit of a buffer between her and James sometimes, his two friends seemed to make the whole ordeal a lot less awkward.   
“Are you busy?” James asked, suddenly appearing at her side in the kitchen the next morning. She hadn’t even heard him walk over. His voice caught her off-guard, and she jumped slightly, turning back to face him. 
“No, why? Is everything okay?”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” he said quickly, “Everything is fine. I just wanted to...talk. To you.” James’s tone was more solemn than normal, his thick, dark eyebrows knitted together seriously. 
A long moment of silence passed between them before Y/N eventually nodded and followed James. He led her upstairs towards his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. He gestured for Y/N to take a seat but remained standing himself. Her eyes widened in anticipation as he took a deep breath.  
“I’m not really sure what the best way to tell you this is so I’m just going to come out and say it.” he began, “I overheard mum and dad speaking last night and well... they’ve set a date for the wedding.” 
Y/N felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She had been enjoying the lull in the situation and felt like she had momentarily forgotten that anything had been wrong. James’s words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling completely stunned.  
“W-what? When?” 
“Next month.” James said with a pained expression, “It’s fast, but it seems like it’s the only way to satisfy our parents. They’ve set a date, so... I guess it’s happening.” 
He crossed the room to sit next to Y/N on the bed. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. Y/N looked down at their intertwined fingers, it was the first time that they had ever really touched each other. She was suddenly painfully aware of how close James’s body was to hers. They were sitting side by side, their legs touching and their hands together. A wave of heat washed over her, and she forced herself to meet James’s gaze.   
James, for his part, was trying very hard to keep his emotions in check as well. He grabbed Y/N’s hand without really thinking about what he was doing, in his head it just felt like it was the right thing to do. He held her gaze for a moment before finally speaking again. 
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. Y/N nodded slowly, unable to look away from him. She looked down at their hands again, her lips parted slightly as she searched her head for words.  
“I don’t know...” she finally said, “I don’t know how to feel.” 
“I understand.” he nodded in acknowledgment, “This isn’t what either of us wanted.” He paused for a moment, releasing her hand from his and raking his fingers through his curls.  
“I know the situation is shit and I know that we haven’t spent a lot of time together.” he continued, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I mean, like... as a person. I don’t know, maybe if we got to know each other a little better it’ll all be okay.” 
Y/N was taken aback by the way that James spoke so openly and honestly about his feelings. He didn’t sound like the angry person he was the first time they spoke about their marriage. This side of him was entirely different and she liked it. Despite everything that was going on, she felt strangely comforted by the way he was speaking so candidly. 
“I feel the same way. I suppose we don’t really have another option, do we?” said smiled sadly, “I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m sure we can get through this together.”  
“We can always divorce, eh?” James chuckled. Y/N let out a laugh, caught off guard by the way James quickly slipped back into his normal jovial self. 
Over the next few days, Y/N spent most of her time avoiding James’s parents, in hopes that if they put off seeing them for long enough, they might just forget about the wedding all together. The four of them would try and spend as much of the day as they could outside of the house, often wandering down into the town or to the pub. Y/N’s late night conversations with Sirius had become a staple of her stay with the Potter’s and she found herself looking forward to their nightly rituals more over the next few days. She had quickly got used to sneaking down to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Their conversations had become increasingly more intimate, though for some reason, she still hadn’t broken the news to him about the date of the wedding.  
That night, she met up with Sirius after everyone else had gone to bed, slipping out of her room and making her way down to the kitchen. The house was silent and still, and she felt a rush of excitement as she laid her eyes on Sirius, him staring back at her with a wide grin.  
“I was wondering when you’d be joining me.” Sirius said calmly. Y/N returned the smile, taking a seat on the counter. Though, tonight, she strayed from her usual spot on the opposite side of the kitchen and sat next time him. 
“You’re quite predictable, you know?” she teased, “the last three nights you’ve been in the kitchen, maybe you ought to start changing it up a little.”  
She adjusted her position on the counter, trying to make herself more comfortable. Sirius smiled back playfully and for a moment, they just sat in companionable silence. Just as it had happened earlier with James, Y/N noticed the way that Sirius’s knee was touching hers. Although, this time she didn’t feel the need to yank it away, she just let it rest against hers.  
“James told me the news.” Sirius stated, “It’s shit.” 
“Yep.” Y/N laughed at his bluntness, “In less than a month I’ll be a married woman.” 
“You don’t like him very much, do you?” 
“It’s not that I don’t like him – I think any girl would be lucky to have him. I mean, he’s lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off. 
“You just don’t like him like that.” Sirius finished for her.  
Y/N hummed in response, her eyes trailing down to where their knees were touching and then back up to Sirius’s eyes. He was looking straight back at her, as if his eyes were searching hers for exactly how she was feeling. The moment felt charged, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. She knew he was waiting for her to say something and she was quickly overcome by a wave of self-consciousness that left her unable to speak.  
After what felt like an eternity, Sirius’s hand inched its way over until it was hovering over her knee. Slowly, but surely, his fingers placed themselves over her own.  The heat between their two bodies was almost unbearable. She could feel her heart racing and she was almost certain that if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear it. Her fingers instinctively tightened around his. 
“I just really don’t know what to do.” she found her voice after a moment, looking up at him.  
Once again, his eyes locked with hers for a moment before they fluttered shut, his body angling towards hers, head tipped down and his lips brushing against her own. Instinctively, his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb stroking across the softness of her cheek. After a moment, she pulled away, her focus on his lips for a fleeting moment before forcing herself to look away. She felt like she had just been electrocuted, feeling dizzy with the rush of emotions. Sirius, for a few moments, looked like he was too stunned to speak. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and quickly drew his away. 
“I should go.” he said, sliding down from the counter. He barely looked at her before swiftly making his way out of the kitchen. Y/N didn’t move, just stared after him as he left, her hands stayed where they were on the counter, her fingertips still tingling from Sirius’s touch. 
They managed to avoid each other for the rest of the week, their brief moment of intimacy being pushed to the back of both of their minds. Y/N was doing her best to avoid thinking about Sirius, and Sirius was trying his best to avoid thinking about Y/N.  
James had spent an awful lot of time by her side over the last few days, and while she appreciated the distraction, every time James spoke to her she got a horrible sick feeling in her stomach. She felt like her heart was being ripped into two, feeling torn between her attraction to Sirius and her engagement to James. 
You’ve seemed off the last few days, is everything alright?” James asked one afternoon as they were sat together in the living room. Y/N looked up from the book that was resting on her lap. 
“I’m fine.” she said, “How come you haven’t gone out with the others?”  
“Remus wanted to go to the pub and I didn’t fancy it.” he shrugged.  
“You’re not just staying here for me, are you?”  
“No.” James laughed, “Not just staying here for you, no. But I would like to be spending time with you.” 
Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked back down at her book, trying to avoid James’s gaze.  
“I’ll be spending a lot of time with you for the rest of my life. Might as well start getting used to it.” he grinned.  
“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” James asked after a few moments of silence. 
“Go ahead.” 
“I was just wondering, if we hadn’t been forced into this whole engagement thing, how do you think you would feel about me?” 
Y/N froze, uncertain of what she should say. She wanted to be honest with him but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Her mind flicked back to the conversation she had had with Sirius and the kiss they had shared. 
“I...” she started hesitantly, her eyes still avoiding James, “It’s hard, isn’t it? Maybe if we had met in another situation it would be different but...” 
“You don’t have to lie to me,” James said, his voice gentle, “I know that none of this was how it was supposed to happen and I know that there are a lot of things about this situation that you don't like, but I think that we could still be happy together.” 
She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the guilt that suddenly washed over her. Even if they had met under different circumstances, she still wasn’t entirely sure that things would have worked out between them. She just didn’t see James like that. She had tried to ignore it at first, but to her, it just felt like it was a fact that there was no romantic tension between them. But, to say that would be heartbreaking, so instead, she just stayed silent. 
“Y’know, Sirius said I’m mad.” James sighed and Y/N looked at him quizzically, “He thinks I’m daft for trying to find a way out of this marriage. Said I’d be lucky to have a girl as good as you.” 
“He did?” 
“Yeah, he thinks you’re great.” James moved to look at her properly, taking the book from her lap, closing it and placing it on the table so that she was forced to give him her full attention.  
Y/N immediately felt nervous as she met James’s gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, feeling even more vulnerable no that there was no escape. She was forced to look directly at James with no distractions. 
“He’s right as well. Although, don’t tell him I said that because the smug bastard would never let me live it down.” James chuckled. He moved his hand to cup her chin, shifting her face to look at him, “You are great. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re gorgeous. I mean, if the circumstances were different then I feel like-” 
“James, don’t-” 
Before she could finish her sentence, James had leaned forward, his lips colliding with hers. Y/N let out a gasp of surprise. She felt his hand tangling into her hair, the other moving down to her waist. It was like she was stuck, just sat there, allowing James to kiss her. Her body was completely overtaken by confusion.  
“What the fuck.” a voice spoke. 
Both of their heads snapped around to the doorway. Sirius was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, Remus at his side. Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Y/N quickly pulled away from James, sinking back into her seat. 
“Ah, so this is what you two get up to when we’re not around.” Remus grinned, “No wonder you didn’t want to come to the pub with us.” 
James’s face flushed red and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, smiling nervously. A hot wave of embarrassment flushed over Y/N and her eyes frantically flicked between James and Sirius. Sirius’s expression didn’t change, and for the first time, she noticed a certain edge to his stare. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything at all, but he kept his eyes locked on her. 
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry with herself for letting the kiss happen or embarrassed at the fact that they had been caught. She looked back over to Sirius, his jaw was clenched and any trace of the usual playfulness in his eyes had gone. Without saying anything, Sirius walked away and they heard the faint slamming of his bedroom door.  
“What’s his problem?” James asked.  
“Dunno,” Remus shrugged, “He’s had a few pints. You know what he gets like.” 
That night, Sirius didn’t show at their usual meeting place in the kitchen. Y/N sat and waited patiently, hoping that he would turn up so that she could explain herself to him. She wanted to tell him that it was James that kissed her, that it meant absolutely nothing to her. Her heart sank as the morning light started to stream into the kitchen and she realised that Sirius wasn’t coming.  
For days, the only time that Y/N would see Sirius was when they ran into each other at the table during meals or on the stairs. Sirius avoided her eyes when they passed each other, not even giving her a chance to speak to her before disappearing. She didn’t know what to do. She kept trying to catch his eye whenever she saw him, willing him to look at her, wanting to explain everything. But, every time, she felt as though her words would be meaningless.  
She didn’t even want to see James now. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she would avoid him and go out of her way to prevent being alone with him. It wasn’t James’s fault, and deep-down Y/N knew that.  
One night, as Y/N was on her way upstairs to bed, she ran into Sirius. He was on his way out, taking his coat off the hook in the hallway when she suddenly caught a glimpse of him. She tensed up as he looked at her, scared of what he was going to say, but all he seemed to do was stare, that same cold expression that he wore when he saw her and James kiss.  
Before she could say anything, Sirius turned around, slid on his coat and walked out of the house. Y/N watched him walk away, managing to stop the front door before it slammed shut behind him. Not even bothering to put her coat on, she slipped on her shoes and hastily followed him up the driveway. 
“What are you doing out here? Go back inside, you’ve not even got a coat on. You’ll freeze.” Sirius said bluntly when she managed to catch up to him. 
“I don’t care.” Y/N pressed, “Will you please just speak to me? You’ve been avoiding me for days!” 
“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t feel like speaking to you after I walked in on you kissing my best mate.” 
“I’m engaged to him!” 
“You told me you didn’t love him!” 
“I don’t!” 
“Then why did you kiss him?” 
They were stood facing each other now. The chilly night air nipped at Y/N’s bare skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. She could feel frustrated tears stinging her eyes and she fought hard to hold them in. 
“He kissed me.” Y/N’s voice came out strained, “I wish he didn’t. God, I wish he didn’t. I don’t know why he did it. It just happened. I don’t know – maybe he just wanted to see if there was anything there.” 
“And was there?” Sirius asked, his eyes still cold. 
“Not on my part, no.” Y/N admitted, “Not like there was when you kissed me.” 
Sirius stopped at that. His eyes locked on hers, his expression softening for the very first time. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his frown eased.  
“You mean, the kiss with me really meant something to you?” 
Y/N nodded; a shy smile crept over her face as she thought back to their kiss. The way that Sirius’s lips had felt so different to James’s. Softer, more passionate, it had just felt right in that moment. 
“Of course it meant something to me. I thought it had to you as well,” her smiled faltered for a second, “but then after you left straight away and you avoided me for days. I thought you regretted it. Then the kiss with James happened and...” 
“I did regret it. I regretted it because you’re engaged to my best friend and I'm the bloody fool that decided to fall in love with you.” Sirius’s brows furrowed, “I just felt like I fucked up. God, you’re getting married.” 
Sirius raked a hand through his hair, his head tipped back. He looked up towards the sky, the inky, dark night sprinkled with stars. He sighed and then looked back at her. 
“I just wish we could have met under a different circumstance.” he said sadly, “without everything being so complicated.” 
“Me too.” 
She couldn’t help the aching feeling in her heart. Feeling as if the world was so cruel to throw them together this way. His eyes locked on hers, a deep well of sadness in them. 
“We should go back inside; you’ll catch your death out here.” Sirius said, placing a hand on her arm and trying to guide her back to the house. 
“Where were you going anyway?” she asked, “When you walked out?” 
“God knows.” 
They walked back to the house in silence, the only sound being the creaky stairs as they made their way back to their bedrooms. She could feel the tension in the air, like they both wanted to say something but couldn’t. When they reached the top of the stairs, without saying anything, Sirius placed a gentle hand on her cheek and turned her to face him. 
Gently, Sirius pulled her towards him, sliding one arm around her body so her chest was just brushing against his. His other hand moved up to cup the back of her neck, his fingertips brushing gently against her skin. He pulled her in closer and she tipped her head back to look at him, their lips just inches away from each other. 
He didn’t wait a second longer. His lips found hers, pressing against them as he kissed her deeply. One hand slid down to rest on her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her body flush against his.  
For the first time that night, Y/N wasn’t thinking about all the complications, she was just basking in the moment, happy to feel the electricity between them once again. The kiss was much longer than their last, much more passionate. Y/N ran her fingers through Sirius’s hair. Every inch of her was pulled towards him, desperate to cling onto him. She wanted it to last forever, her arms wrapped around his neck, his body melted against her own, her lips on his. She would have given anything for time to stand still. 
All too soon, the kiss ended. Sirius’s lips moved away from hers. Their breathing was loud in the silence. The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity, both refusing to look away. 
“What do we do now?” Y/N asked softly. 
Sirius paused before answering, his eyes flicking back down to her lips. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but no words came out. Instead, he just tilted his head down and kissed her again, sweetly this time. 
“I’ll do whatever it takes if it means I get to do that again.” Sirius whispered, his lips still touching hers. 
“But what about James?”  
Her question brought them both crashing back to reality. Sirius let out a deep exhale as he looked away.  
“Let me worry about that.”  
James was in the kitchen the next morning when Y/N went to get breakfast. Much like herself, he was an early riser and was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. The golden glow of the sunlight lit up the room, bathing James in its warmth.  
“Morning.” he smiled, looking up at her. His voice was still thick with sleep and his curls were falling messily over his forehead. 
Y/N smiled back despite her stomach churning with anxiety. She had spent most of the night unable to sleep, replaying last night’s events in her mind. Despite James being completely oblivious to what was happening with Sirius, she could barely stomach being in the same room as him. 
James kicked the chair out that was opposite from him, gesturing for her to take a seat. She wanted to refuse, to distance herself from him as much as possible, but she couldn’t.  
“You’ve been avoiding me.” James addressed. She felt her heart immediately drop. Her eyes darted across the room, looking anywhere but back at him. 
“I could say the same.” she retorted. James raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back in his seat. 
“You kissed me.” The words had fallen from her mouth before she had even realised what she was saying.  
“I did.” An amused smile tugged on his lips. Y/N’s stomach heaved at the way he was acting so casually about it. 
“Why did you do it?” 
“To see if we both felt anything.” he shrugged. 
“And did you?”  
“Would it matter if I did?” 
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He was acting so nonchalant, and it was driving her insane. James just chuckled, amused by her reaction. 
“Let’s suppose I did feel something. Would that affect anything?” he probed. 
Y/N looked away from him again, she was speechless. Her head was reeling from everything that was going on, all the conflicting emotions. A few weeks ago her and James were planning away for them to get out of the engagement, and then he kissed her and now, he seemed unfazed by the whole situation. 
“It wouldn’t.” he answered for her, “Because you didn’t feel anything.”  
For a moment, the whole world seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened, shocked at how blunt he was being with her. She couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t felt anything. He was right and she hated that. 
“Fine.” she admitted, feeling her throat clench up, the words just barely forcing themselves out, “I didn’t feel anything. What were you expecting? That you would kiss me and-” 
“That there would be fireworks and we would both realise that we were actually madly in love with each other?” James said dryly, “I’m not stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting.”  
Y/N sighed and rested her head in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything that had just been said.  
“I’m a good kisser, right?” he teased, breaking the silence, “I mean, you have to give me that. It wasn’t completely awful, was it?” 
“No, it wasn’t completely awful.” Y/N cracked a smiled for the first time that morning. The atmosphere between them felt lighter. She felt herself relax a little, her smile growing wider. It was nice to be able to laugh a little, even if it was due to the awkwardness of the situation. 
“Did you sort everything out with Sirius?”  
“What?” Y/N spluttered, nearly choking on the intake of breath. 
“C’mon, I’m not thick.” he smiled, “All this ‘you’d be daft not to marry her’ nonsense. He couldn’t make it any more obvious.” 
Y/N’s heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, the blood pumping through her body as she tried to think of a way to get her out of speaking about Sirius. 
“I didn’t... we didn’t... nothing happened.” she stumbled over her words. It was clear that she was terrible liar because she only managed to keep it up for a few seconds before she let out a massive sigh. 
“You’re the worst liar I have ever met, you know that?” James laughed.  
She sighed again, realising that she had no choice but to come clean. James was right – he wasn’t stupid and his suspicions were spot on. 
“Fine.” she groaned, “We kissed. Twice actually. We’ve met up a few nights, down here and we just chatted and-” 
“You like him.” James said. 
“I like him.”  
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both of them just stewing in the silence. Y/N tapped her fingers anxiously on the table, trying to think of something to say. 
“I’m sorry.” she decided on. 
“Don’t be sorry.” 
Y/N felt completely lost. He didn’t seem angry, or disappointed. He seemed almost understanding and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She looked up at him, slightly surprised by his reaction. 
“You don’t care?” she asked incredulously. 
“Nope.” he smiled, “I think I always knew this would happen eventually. I never really believed in the arrangement. I mean, you’re great and I do like you but I don’t really want to marry you and you don’t want to marry me either. So what difference does it make that you like someone else?” 
“But your parents have booked the wedding.” 
“Fuck the wedding. I don’t care.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Our parents care more about the wedding than we ever could. They’ll get over it. They’ll find someone else for me to marry.” he finished with a laugh. 
Y/N felt like all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she could breathe properly again for the first time in weeks. James was being so mature about the whole situation. She had been worrying for absolutely no reason, convinced that her entire world was about to come crashing down. 
“So, what do we tell our parents?” she asked. 
“Let me figure that out.” James said sitting up straight, “I’ll speak with both sets of parents, and we’ll see where it goes from there. In the meantime, just act normal. They don’t think that there’s anything wrong.” 
Y/N distracted herself while James was speaking to their parents by making her way up to Sirius’s room. She knocked gingerly on his door. He didn’t answer for a few moments but then she heard a shuffling sound and the door creaked open. 
Sirius looked like he had just woken up, his jet black hair slightly tussled but still perfect looking, plaid pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips. Y/N found herself staring at him for a second to long, her eyes scanning over his shirtless torso, taking in the sprinkling of tattoos that she hadn’t seen before. 
“Are you going to come in or are you just going to stare at me all day?” a cocky smirk spread across his lips. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter his room and shut the door behind her. He leaned back against his bed, his eyes wandering over her, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was watching her as well.  
Neither of them spoke as they drank each other in. Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time all the little details. The posters that had be messily taped to the wall, the stacks of books by his bed, even the smell of the room, all the subtle hints of him. 
“I told James.” she said, breaking the silence. 
“It’s a bit early to be dropping bombshells like that.” his mouth was curling up at the corner. 
“We don’t all sleep in ‘til noon,” she teased. Sirius just rolled his eyes at her. 
“D’you think I slept at all last night?” he nudged her, “How did he take it?” 
“Better than I expected, actually. He said he knew something was going on between us anyway. Said you spoke... highly of me.” she said, choosing her words carefully. 
“Oh, yeah?” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes sparkling mischievously “What did he say?” 
“That you said he’s daft not to marry me.” 
Sirius snorted in amusement, leaning back on the bed and crossing his arms. 
“I was that obvious, was I?” he laughed, “I guess he’s not as thick as I thought he was.” 
“I think it was more obvious when you stormed off when you walked in on him kissing me.” she joked. The pair of them laughed at the thought of Sirius’s dramatic exit. “He didn’t seem bothered at all. I mean, we both agreed that this engagement was stupid. It’s just an excuse for our parents to get involved in our lives. There’s no real reason for us to get married.” 
“So, what now?” he rested one of his hands on her thigh, “the marriage is off, I’m assuming. So, what’s the plan – we run away into the sunset together?” 
“In a perfect world, I would love to do just that, but we both know it’s not going to be that easy.” her smile faded slightly, “James is breaking the news to our parents. God knows what he’s going to tell them.”  
“Well, I suppose we just have to wait and see.” 
He pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her properly for the first time. She felt like she melted into him, simply just existing in his arms. Sirius rand a hand down her arm, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, letting it linger for a few seconds. 
Every sense of her body seemed to come alive all at once. The scent of his skin mingling with the like smell of his cologne, the sound of his breath and the feel of his gentle touch running over her skin. She felt herself get lost in the moment, forgetting the past and ignoring the future. For now, she felt content. 
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cal-flakes · 10 months
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iI have an idea if you'd like to write this. So I was thinking maybe the reader and Rafe are fuck buddies and they get into a fight, and then they have hate sex and then maybe in the morning, the reader wants to leave but Rafe wants more time with her
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╰┈➤ hateful sex with rafe
warnings: very nsfw, degradation, choking, swearing, fluff at the end.
summary: could friends with benefits be something more?
the click of her heels was drowned out by the obnoxious, drunk looks scattered around the house. her chest heaved as she stomped through the house, making her way to the main balcony.
shoving the door open, y/n stepped over to the couch outside, plonking down on it in a huff.
“hey y/n! long time no see!” a voice called. with a reserved smile, she turned to face it. “hey top, yeah it’s been a while” she laughed awkwardly. the last thing she wanted was to be sat there with topper thornton, but what she really wanted wasn’t up for grabs.
“so where’ve you been? are you still with rafe?” he asked, sincerity in his words. y/n threw her head back in a laugh, resting her hand on his leg. “you are so funny topper! i was never with rafe..”
his eyebrows raised, leaning into her touch. “oh? i thought you guys were together, my bad” he whispered in her ear, smirking. “no, he couldn’t give me what i wanted..” she grinned, moving closer.
“what’s that?” a growl snapped from beside her, looking up, her eyes widened in feigned shock.
“oh nothing, me and top were just talking..” she spoke in a sly tone. topper froze slightly as he felt rafe’s eyes narrow in on him. “come on y/n” rafe spat, yanking her out of the chair. the grip on her arm leaving a red ring in its absence.
y/n stumbled in her heels as rafe pulled her through the house, watching as his jaw clenched in frustration.
she hasn’t had the chance to say bye to topper before she was shoved through a doorway. “what the fuck rafe!” she shouted, taking in her whereabouts.
slamming the door behind him, he stalked towards her, pinning her against the wall by her throat.
“the fuck are you doing out there huh?” he yelled back, hot breath blanketing her face. a sly smirk appeared on her lips.
“wouldn’t you like to know..” she mocked him. rafe seethed as he held her, nose to nose. “i don’t know why you care anyways, what happened to your whore?” she teased, loving the affect her words were having on him.
“oh-oh that’s what this is about? you weren’t getting the attention you wanted?” he stuttered furiously, his forearm flexing as he tightened the grip on her neck.
her silence only enraged him further, keeping his hold on her as he pushed her over to the bed, face down.
“you’re so desperate for attention you go to my bestfriend, huh? you little slut” he sneered, undoing his belt behind her.
butterflies erupted in her stomach, his hurtful word were music to her ears, only increasing the wetness spreading between her legs.
rafe pulled her dress up, bunching it around her waist, revealing her bare. a hard smack to her backside had her gasping, longing for more as she clenched around nothing.
a hand reached around to circle her clit as another tangled itself in her hair, pulling her back up against him. “fuck..” she whimpered.
“shut the fuck up, you’re lucky if i even let you cum” he whispered, reaching further to push a finger through her folds. his hot breath sent tingles down her spine.
her walls clenched around his ring clad fingers as he pumped them, moaning loudly at his fast pace.
“what the fuck did i tell you?” rafe removed his fingers suddenly, earning a needy whine.
pushing her back down, he kicked her legs apart, opening her up for him.
“is this what you want? you want my cock you needy bitch?” he teased, brushed the tip against her.
nodding furiously, she whined into the sheets, desperately looking for something to hold onto.
noticing this, he made quick work of pinning her hands behind her back before burying himself inside of her. y/n had no time to adjust to his size, her mouth agape as her ruined her from behind.
“next time, you come and get me. i don’t care who i’m with or where i am. you’re mine y/n, and you better fucking remember that” he growled, timing his thrusts with each syllable.
the coil in her stomach turned tighter and tighter as he let his anger roll through her. “rafe! rafe i-im gonna-” he cut her off, rubbing his thumb against her clit, pulling her closer to the edge.
“i’m with you baby, cum for me..” he spoke breathlessly, putting all of his effort into the last few thrusts.
her nails scratched against the sheet, pulling a few threads out as release washed over her. the muscles in her legs strained as rafe’s fingers dug into her fingers, filling her completely.
he collapsed on top of her, running his fingers along her spine softly, causing her to flinch at the ticklish spots.
his arm around her waist tightened when she struggled against him, attempting to shimmy out from underneath him.
“rafe, what are you doing?” she questioned, brows furrowed.
“stay” he slurred into the pillow, tiredness setting in. “what?”
“i said stay y/n, i want you to stay” he spoke up, turning slightly to look at her.
“you want me to stay?” she smiled, a content glint in her eyes.
“you’re mine y/n, of course i want you to stay..” he grumbled, almost as if she was supposed to know this.
rafe never wanted her to stay, in fact he was always the first to leave. over time she picked up on this, although it hurt her, she suppressed the warm feelings for the sake of what they had already.
rafe asking her to stay had her heart pacing, threatening to unlock the box she kept her feelings in.
“but you never want me to stay?” she continued her interrogation, attempting to avoid false promises.
“i want you to stay here with me from now on, you’re mine and m’gonna make sure everyone knows it..”
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foreficfandom · 3 months
Text
POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (ch. 3 - "Taking Notes")
(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader) (AO3)
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As far as the wider population of hell was concerned, Alastor disappeared after the Extermination with his tail between his legs. Vox made sure his viewers didn’t forget it, showing the footage of Alastor’s prone body no less than eight times over the course of four days. By the time the hotel was newly renovated, the Radio Demon being back in hiding was old news. 
Hell’s populace was cynical and jaded. They took the news in stride, aware that as far as anyone knew, Alastor was right around the corner, seconds away from a new murderous streak. But danger was always right around the corner. Distinctions between dangers mattered less if the outcomes were always a guarantee. 
Alastor didn’t plan on laying low for long. The angelic energy still festering in his chest prompted great pain whenever he used his dark magic. It took several days for it to completely dissipate, and it left scars that occasionally twinged with phantom jolts. Akin to nerve damage after burns. 
He didn’t let you see the wound in full. You had offered to speed up its healing, but he would rather defenestrate himself than show you his bare chest. However, he was quickly allowing himself more casual dress within your private presence, a remainder of typical ‘30’s societal norms. If a gentleman made a friend, he could remove his hat, gloves, and jacket. If it was a close friend or family, he could be shirtless if needed, when out of the public eye. 
Like when you and he made plans to further plot in his room, and you had arrived to Alastor in his pants, shoes, a belt, and a white sleeveless undershirt - what would be called a tank top. He was using a flat iron, freshly heated from his fireplace, carefully pulling and pushing it upon a dampened shirt spread tightly across an ironing board. You could now appreciate his limber, bare arms and collarbone, which were lightly haired with a gradient coat, colored more darkly further towards his hands. He had only the slightest muscle bulk, mostly in his forearms, and only due to a deficit of body fat to cushion it.
“Couldn’t you just magic your wardrobe clean and pressed?” You teased, closing the door. 
“Of course I could, my dear. But nothing beats a job done by your own hand!” 
Cleverly spoken. After all, Alastor’s magic weren’t extensions of his own will, but of his jailers. You approached the opposite side of the ironing board, the slight steam of sizzling water reminiscent of a little sauna. 
“So, Alastor. I’m sure you’ve agonized over every fine detail of your deal. You should know that there’s limited chance your creditor would see any more advantages to take.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Alastor said, continuing his ironing, “so I’m going to take this opportunity to play kitten. Let’s pretend that plonk Adam managed to lodge a real stinker into me, and despite my best efforts, it’s hindered my abilities pathetically! I couldn’t shatter a stemware if I tried!”
He placed his hand on his chest as if a fainting damsel, the hot iron held aloft. You noticed with amusement that his elk-down has replaced his armpit hair, leaving it smooth like a child’s.
“And so Alastor would take drastic measures to be powerful once more? Anybody lucky enough to know you would certainly expect the Radio Demon’d be desperate to get his arsenal back.”
“Precisely! I will swallow my pride and put on a great show. Soon enough, it’ll get their attention.”
You took a second to ponder. “Beings like them believe their indentured souls are largely grateful for their gifts, and not chomping at the bit to reverse it all. They’re arrogant like that. After all, you certainly owe a lot to their influence.”
Alastor looked like he was about to refute your words with his bitter resentment, but considered a second further and went back to his chores.
“Well, I suppose they haven’t been all cruel. As a mortal man, I knew I was protected by forces unseen. I believe I am still being protected.”
“In more ways than one. Do you have any clue how many illnesses you dodged while eating your victims? They even debated on whether to let the listeria permanently damage your large intestinal tract. They settled on just the temporary infection.”
“What’s listeria?”
“A bacterial parasite. Causes loose stool, vomiting, and fever, and can resolve itself after a couple of weeks. First discovered in the late 1920’s, but wouldn’t be in everyone’s medical books until World War II. You got it from the back-alley surgeon.”
“Is that what that was? I was throwing back Ostrex for days. I swear I had never been more ill.” Alastor shifted his shirt so that he could iron the left sleeve. The fabric sizzled anew. “Well, aside from when I watched Way Down East to see what the fuss was about. That wretched Porter Strong gives me strong retches, all right!” He cackled alongside a canned studio laugh track.
“How shall we advertise your weak state? You wouldn’t want to roam Hell’s streets like you used to.”
“That’s where I’m hoping you can come in. You, with your millennia of experience.” He gave you a sly eye, smiling as ever but you could see the pointed daggers. 
You crossed your arms with an exhale. “Actually, I do have some ideas. Simply put, we fake a new competitor of yours, and let them run far more rampant than you’d normally allow.”
You knew men like Alastor. If he could allow it, the spotlight would never leave him.
Stimulating the opposite would be a tell-tale sign that the Radio Demon was indisposed. 
Alastor narrowed his eyes, as if reading your mind. “And who would this new competitor be?”
“Me, of course. Like you’d trust anybody else to be in on it.”
Every Overlord was once an unassuming sinner soul. It would be an on-going process, but with careful pretense you could convincingly step into the shoes of Overlord. 
Your avenue would have to be something that threatened Alastor’s specific audience, not just another jumpstart with a seat at the table. Dread Vox would be a good comparison. You’d just take a leaf from his book and aim for the media masses. 
And as a content creator, you wouldn’t have to bother with physical territory, which decreased the risk of encountering physical confrontations. You didn’t want to play-act some street scuffle with an Alastor forcing himself to feign weakness. He probably couldn’t bring himself to play act meek in-person. It would be hard enough to have him remain out of the public eye - or rather, public ears.
“The longer I go uncontested by you, the more suspicious it’ll seem. Before long, your creditor will get the hint.”
Alastor gave a “Hmm” of consideration, finishing up his ironing. His smile was small, but unpained. 
After a minute of silence, spent watching Alastor hang his laundry in careful sets and whisk away the ironing set with a snap of his fingers, he turned to you, lips curled ever upwards. 
“Very well. We will cultivate the rise of a new Overlord. Together.”
— 
The next day was a slow, but relaxing affair for the hotel. After finishing your administration duties, you enjoyed catching up with Niffty on gossip, before lounging in the parlor with Angel Dust, who had been carefully pampering himself since morning. He was fresh out of his perfumed bath, fur conditioned and silky, and asked for your help in applying a fresh manicure. An endeavor made harder considering that he had eight hands. 
The television screen popped and sizzled as Alastor entered from the hall, apparently deciding to pay the two of you a visit.
“Aww damn it, Kelsey was just about to reveal her deep, dark secret,” Angel Dust whined. The television’s audio finally stabilized and revealed the cast utterly distraught over whatever the step-daughter had confessed to. “Could you maybe cool your anti-TV thing if you’re gonna crash my soap time?”
“Why, it’s hardly something I can control.” Alastor threw his hands and eyes upwards in disregard. 
“You know, back in Alastor’s day, entire families sat to listen to the radio just like we do with television,” you smiled demurely at the two of them. 
“Yeah, well, ‘back in his day,’” Angel mocked your tone, “they also brewed poisonous moonshine in toilets, ate banged-up cans of brown windsor soup every other day, and probably had more cases of TB than kids to die from it. I died in nineteen-fucking-forty, I know the low-down. Hell, I think nonna remembered the actual Civil War.”
Unlike Alastor, Angel Dust was a sinner who found little trouble adjusting to modern technology. Many of the sinner souls who died young embraced things like internet and electric cars, whether they died during the 20th century, or the 17th. 
Cultures of the living found their way downstairs with little delay. Nobody was sure why, but some suspected it was because all technological progress can be considered sinful. You knew it was because earth and hell - and heaven, and purgatory, and all sapient souls - existed as one simultaneously. If Segways existed both physically and within mortal awareness, then so shall it be in hell. Certainly, Segways would not escape the mortal consciousness without great effort. 
“Well, back in your day, housewives could only earn money in Tupperware pyramid schemes, children didn’t learn about evolution in school, and everyone was obsessed with Spam,” you teased. 
You had told everyone you died mere years ago. True, there was a tangible generational gap between you, Angel Dust, and Alastor, all of you could feel it, but in your case it was much more … complicated.  
Angel took your needling in stride. “Eh, at least we had toothpaste. I heard that Great Depression suckers only bothered with charcoal dust, like, once a week.”
At that, you smirked at Alastor, who you’ve teased about his unfortunately-yellow maw more than once. It would have been normal for his time, and the fact that he’d only ever had to pull two would actually be considered impressive. 
But you were a being that greatly valued hygiene. Something to do with your heightened senses picking up on every stray molecule that builds on the body, but you privately joked that it was because ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’. 
“Now, now, my dainty friend,” An approaching Alastor made a point to mimic Angel’s delicately elevated fingers, reminiscent of a wilting flower, “the future may look greener on the other side, but sometimes, olden days were the golden days. Why heck, one could claim that not much has progressed at all! Look out the window there, and tell me you don’t see the same rampant crime and barbarity, no matter the perpetrators from my century, or not! In fact,” Angel pulled a face as Alastor entered one of his long-winded rambles, always intending to (and unfortunately usually succeeding) in dominating the room, “I declare that mankind’s one constant has been its depravity. Always the same distasteful impulses.”
“And mankind’s moralities are never constant?” you offered. 
“Oh please,” Angel said simultaneously as Alastor’s “Goodness, no!” 
“Back when I was a kid, people thought left-handedness wasn’t Jesus-fearing. People sure don’t think so, now,” Angel continued. 
“And whatever’s casting humans to hell evolves just as its victims do. When’s the last time you saw some pitiful gilly drop down here solely for premarital relations? ‘Twas the case just some fifty years ago.” 
Angel snorted. “Yeah, if abstinence awarded you points, I’m waaaay off the mark. And, well, it don’t seem like it for certain, but for all I know, it’s still in heaven’s rulebook.”
“Hah, if only that was the case,” you threw a none-too-subtle look towards Alastor, who returned with a slow, absolutely withering glare.
Of course, Angel Dust noticed. “Whoa, Alastor man, you died a virgin? But you were probably, like, forty.” 
“Oh hardly,” Alastor sardonically hissed through his teeth. You didn’t point out that he died a mere two years from the mark, not something you’d call ‘hardly’. 
“Well, hey, if your abstinence wasn’t enough to get you upstairs, then that’d be free reign to let wild down here, wouldn’t it?” Angel Dust smiled. “You probably had lotsa old-timey fans when you first arrived. Wouldn’t be a shock if you have lotsa admirers today, too. Pick up a dame from the speakeasy for a nightcap over at your place? Or let some knockout daddy plow you in the bathroom?”
A vein popped in Alastor’s temple. You ducked over Angel’s half-painted hand to hide a grin. If it were anyone else, you would have felt sympathy for the teasing. But, in your opinion, any little blow to Alastor’s inflated ego was always warranted whenever one managed to get their hands on them.
“Can’t say I’ve ever bothered with any of … that , I’m afraid.” 
Angel Dust looked incredulously at Alastor. “Never? Even in hell? Never done the vertical tango? The hankity-spankity?” 
“Not every man is as covetous as you, my fellow.” Alastor leaned on his cane with both hands, his posture as rim-rod stiff as a telephone pole. You watched his torment in amusement. 
“Huh. Goes to show you never know what’s goin’ on underneath it all,” Angel Dust nonchalantly concluded with a thump back onto the cushions. He returned to his bottle of varnish. 
“I expect you to be prompt for supper this time!” Alastor exited the foyer but called over his shoulder. “I won’t be taking a still-wet manicure as an excuse again!”
He didn’t pause in his application. “Yeah, sheesh. Like what’s he gonna do? Send me to bed without food?” 
You finished applying on Angel’s third hand, and moved to the fourth. “You want to make the rules, then you’ll have to be in charge of the cooking for once.”
“Not gonna happen! Don’t think I’ve stepped in front of a stove since I was a kid. Well, aside from the prop ones in a movie or two. Frilly apron and everything. Why’s he always the chef, anyways? Not like Charlie’s ever made a Thanksgiving turkey for us.”
“Ask him, not me.” Alastor didn’t make meals every day, so if the hotel’s residents didn’t expect a meal from him, then you were all due to fend for yourselves that evening. Most, like Vaggie and Husk, visited the cheap eateries in the neighborhood. Some defaulted to leftovers, or frozen pre-packaged meals (Niffty was especially fond of those).  You and Charlie didn’t have to eat every day, though you kept up the facade of mortality. For the longest time, you were the only one brave enough to eat the leftovers from Alastor’s midnight stress-cooking. 
“You know, I could see Charlie trying to cook for us, her poor suffering lambs.” Angel was finishing up the delicate white strips on each nail tip, done in one or two practiced strokes. You intentionally numbed your proficiency and took much longer to draw a passable line. “But she’s a princess, so maybe she has no idea how to cook anything. Probably for the best she hasn’t tried, then.”
A moment of silence, then Angel piped up once more. “Speaking o’ Charlie, she apparently got some hot letter in the mail this morning, and’s rushed out the door. Haven’t seen her since.”
“Oh? Have any idea why?”
“No idea. I was at the bar with a hair of the dog, and heard Charlie make a big fuss before rushin’ out. Took the letter with her. Sounded important, but couldn’t tell if it was a happy important, or a nasty important.”
You gave a ‘hmm’. “And what about the king? Have you seen him around?”
“Nope. Guy’s been gone since yesterday evening, but that’s nothing unusual these past days, is it? You ask me, something’s brewin’ with the bigwigs up top. The royals, I mean.”
The Goetia Royalty. A long-winded line of hell-borne beings, some of them older than hell itself. For the most part, they kept out of the public eye, intent on living their privileged life with as little interruptions as possible. 
“I hope that Charlie doesn’t get handed more trouble,” you said. “She’s busy enough as it is.”
Angel just shrugged. “Hey, she wanted to start this whole redemption project to begin with. She can deal with it.” You knew he meant it as a compliment. “I mean, I don’t envy her pressure. More and more shit’s been pilin’ on her shoulders these months. And she’s not gonna be unloading any of the responsibilities if she can help it, that wouldn’t match up with her vision, would it? Princess Of Hell, finally doin’ something productive for a change. Prob’ for the best, since lightening her load’ll probably do in the spine of whatever sucker volunteers. All pressure’s heavy at the best of times.”
You sighed in sympathy. “Tell me about it. You never expect to be the cause of a black hole.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Did you get any hints where Charlie went off to?”
“No. If she’s not back until supper, Alastor’ll probably throw a fit. He loves her fawning whenever she sits down to his cooking.”
You made a mental note to text Vaggie if Charlie doesn’t make it back before sundown. Whatever trouble was brewing, it would likely affect your and Alastor’s plans. You couldn’t risk too many interlacing threads getting tangled.
“You could always start a ‘podcast’ series. I detest them less than most modern medias. I may even give yours a listen!”
“Podcasts may be a successful culture, but I fear it wouldn’t be aggressive enough,” you said to Alastor, both of you sat across one of the small tables dotting the hotel study, an open notebook and pen in front of you. “It’s gotta be something people obsess over. Something that earns a lot of money and eats up a lot of time. Something unrepentantly mainstream.”
“Oh, with your charisma, I’m sure you could be a trailblazer in making any media a mainstream mainstay,” Alastor alliterated. He took a sip from his mug of lightly-brewed coffee, more akin to a tea, to avoid over-exciting himself this late in the afternoon. 
You sighed tired, crossing out ‘popstar’ and ‘idol musical group’. Too short-lived to make a successful Overlord career out of it. Alastor’s flattery had a ring of truth, you could theoretically manipulate any field you’d end up in, but you didn’t want to make this any harder than it needed to be. 
He had finished up the last touches on his pulled pork recipe before leaving it to stew in the kitchen, and tracked you down out of curiosity. It was just the two of you in the study for now, but you kept one eye open in case someone else decided to pay a visit. 
You hovered your pen over ‘celebrity surgeon’, just about to ask if Alastor could turn down the volume of the big band he was blaring obnoxiously, before you sensed two pairs of footsteps approach. The two of you turned to Husk and Vaggie strolling in.
“Oh joy, you’re here,” Husk groused sarcastically. It had not gone unnoticed that Alastor had spent the last few days wandering around the hotel more often than he usually did, rather than couching himself in the secluded corners.
“Now, is that any way to greet your friends?” With a crank, Alastor snapped his head to an unnatural 30°. Vaggie, who had grown a modicum more tolerant of the guy, didn’t take the opportunity to needle him, and proceeded to guide Husk to a specific bookshelf in the far corner. She traced her finger along the spines, then pulled out a small hardcover and held it out for Husk.
“Here. From Kuomintang To Kraft Mac: A Brief Timeline Of Events From 1950 - 1970 ”, Vaggie said, handing the book over. “We’re missing the next volume, but Charlie can order it.”
“It’s fine. Thanks.” Husk opened and browsed the first few pages. You could see Leviathan's symbol printed on the opening cover. One of the official hell-produced encyclopedias that detailed living events for the sake of its sinner residents. 
Alastor didn’t hesitate to milk the opportunity. “Why, Husker, my good man! Are you feeling a scholarly bent? I wasn’t aware you knew which end to open a book from!”
“We were talking about hot sauces,” Vaggie allowed herself a small grin at Husk’ dramatic eyeroll. “I know you like using the tabasco pepper-based ones, but Husk was just telling me that he missed the sweeter, pulpy pastes from his time spent across the sea. I said that the world has slowly come around to spices from all over the world.”
“Back in my day, you were lucky to find a dusty bottle of Trappey’s at the mart. I’m surprised America embraced hot spice at all,” Husk added. He spared a glance at the rest of the encyclopedia collection, which boasted a recollection from prehistoric civilization to the rise of the internet. Some of the volumes were depressingly wrinkled and worn, and more than one was absent. 
Alastor didn’t respond, instead rested his chin on the back of his hands, smiling peacefully at the space over Husk’s shoulder. You knew he was thinking of his mortal days, too, when most people made their own bottled sauces from a summer pepper harvest, acidifying mashed jalapeño and cayenne in vinegar and salt, sealing the repurposed cola bottle with cork and wax. It wasn’t until the ‘50’s when hot pepper sauces started appearing in most American recipe books, and it would take a further 30 years before international cuisines reached proper globalization. 
It was nice to see Vaggie and Husk getting along. And perhaps the both of them were learning to tolerate Alastor a bit more. 
Still, both of them eyed Alastor with a distasteful eye, which didn’t phase him in the slightest. Husk, in particular, would rather he spend as little time around the man as possible. Before Alastor forced him to work for the hotel, Husk almost never had contact with the man. You were sure he missed those days dearly. 
The same sentiment wasn’t quite shared by Alastor, who didn’t hold Husk in high regard, but enjoyed his company well enough. And he’ll put up with Vaggie’s ire to a surprisingly high degree. 
“Vaggie, do you know where Charlie is? I heard she left this morning, and it’s almost dinnertime,” you asked. 
Vaggie’s expression turned slightly pensive, and she averted her eyes. “She’s … meeting with old friends. It’s complicated.”
“Royalty issues?” Husk asked. 
“Sorta like that. She should be back soon,” Vaggie assured, but you didn’t miss the subtle glance she threw towards her phone, sitting in her skirt pocket. 
“What kind of friends keep a busy woman for so long? It must be important ,” Alastor said, emphasizing the last word with an oily grin. Vaggie shot him a warning glance. She had far from forgotten the deal he had convinced Charlie to make. 
“Like I said, it’s a royalty issue. Those types of friends aren’t ones you can risk losing. Aren’t you an Overlord? You should relate to the whole, ‘high-society’ sort of thing.”
“Oh, Vaggie dear,” Alastor flapped a hand dismissively, “I haven’t bothered with the ins-and-outs of hell’s Overlord dog-eat-dog kerfuffle in years! You see new faces come and go like the wind. I may enjoy the company of a select few that share a spot at the table, but not for power. For their conversation! For their fun! For keeping up with me on the dance floor, hah!”
“Like Overlord Rosie?” You asked, and he affirmed, “Precisely!”
“You know,” Husk was still scanning over the encyclopedia, speaking to the air as if on an aside, “I heard from a certain little spider that you’re still as lady-less as freshly fallen snow.”
Vaggie raised an eyebrow as Alastor’s smile turned downwards. “And your point?”
“Just sayin’. You got all your lady friends, what’s stopping you?” Husk met Alastor’s unamused glare with a little smirk. 
“Well, it just so happens that my friends tend to be women. They bring the best out in me!”
It didn’t take a genius to understand Alastor’s personal preferences in friends. The lively and prevaricative Niffty, the gregarious and wayward Mimzy, the cordial and extroverted Rosie. This was in comparison to those that annoy him; the prickly Vaggie. The invasive Angel Dust. Charlie, herself, must have drawn Alastor’s affections by virtue of simply being jovial. He loved to see smiles and loved to hear them sing. 
Not being a man would also score a couple points in the ‘friends’ column. And speak of the devil, Alastor piped up; “And men? Brutes, much of them, graceless.” 
Vaggie pointed out that he was a man, which apparently was the expected set-up for his prepared joke, “I need no reminder! After all, I find myself shouldering the burden of being proper gentlemanly to compensate for those who aren’t! Ah, the days when men at least did things like start a conversation with a proper greeting, and ended with a proper ‘goodbye’. I do miss when evocation was a schooling curriculum. Husk! Recite!” He pointed his cane at Husk, who gave a long suffering groan. 
“I have no idea what that means.” 
“Exactly! Did your teacher ever have you recite The Lady of Shallot , or at least See Spot Run ? Come, old fellow, give me hope that the art of spoken word hasn’t been completely lost.”
To your surprise, Husk rose to the bait with, “Tôi đéo quan tâm.”
It was a clever blow. Alastor was skilled, but he knew no second language fluently. His Louisiana Creole was dreadful. His pride taken a blow, Alastor’s grin twitched, but he pulled himself back together with a twirl of his cane. 
“Ah, like a dock sailor. Impressively worldly. But as brutish as an ox.”
The chatter went on, but you focused on your notes. Alastor was exaggerating, plenty of modern people knew public speaking, especially the entertainers. Any television figure worth their salt made sure their audience could follow along not just with clarity, but with enjoyment. News anchors, game show hosts, social media vloggers, podcast narrators, video game streamers -
Streamers . Scheduled broadcasts of live commentary. Responding to the audience in real time. Recorded in a set location. Commonly arranged by genre content. Earning thousands of dollars every year. Even sponsorships were comparably as invasive as a bugle for Edgeworth Cigarettes from during the golden age of radio. 
You wrote with vigor. Streaming would require an expensive set-up if you wanted to cultivate the proper attention. Studio lights, audio recording, multiple high-definition cameras and mounts, a backdrop, not to mention the software.
Your spacious hotel quarters would do, once you got proper acoustic foam wall panels. And luckily, Alastor’s presence in the hotel made for a very powerful modem, to his annoyance. The internet speed here is wild. 
Would you focus on video games? Viral challenges? Conspiracy theories and social drama? Offer adult content? The most successful streamers usually have one main focus, although the more famous one got, the more they could branch without risking alienating their audience. 
And once you establish your place within the internet world, you’d start to ask for more and more money from your adoring fans. Some wouldn’t be able to pay. So you’d offer a deal , instead. Plenty of people have committed to worse for the sake of their idols.
To become one of the top Overlords, you’d have to total a soul count in the five-hundreds, at the very least. Owning actual real estate would also help -shareholding a business or two, or maybe you’d develop a brand from the bottom up.
To grow from niche interest to mainstream name, you’ll make and distribute products. You’ll cultivate entertaining drama with other media personalities with the intent of going viral. You’d be on friendly terms with Alastor’s enemies, and make vague threats towards his friends. 
Alastor turned from the others to see what you were so excited about. He couldn’t quite read your handwriting upside down, but he could tell that you had hit a revelation. 
“Ah, but poor Charlie! I hope her ‘friends’ at least have the good manners to serve dinner, because she certainly won’t be arriving on time for ours! Come now, my good people, to the dining room! Husk, bring out the Austrian Riesling, it’ll pair nicely with the pork.”
“Why are we drinking good wine with barbecue?” you heard him grumble as Alastor managed to usher him and Vaggie out. You finished your notes with a flourish, stuffed your notebook away, and jogged after them. 
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w2soneshots · 9 days
Note
Can you make a oneshot about how Simon or woud be when We Are on Are periods and they have to go out and my pads and tampong
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Period -W2S/Miniminter
Words: 0.3k+
Warnings: none just fluff.
In which the boys take care of you while you’re on your period.
a/n: thank you for all of your lovely requests! I love writing them🫶🏼 I hope this is what you were thinking and you enjoy💞
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W2S:
“How you doing?” Harry asked after he kicked his shoes off and dropped his backpack by the front door. “I’m ok. Did filming go okay?” I asked referring to the long shoot he had today. “Yea I’m actually really excited to see the final edit.” He answered before plonking himself down on the couch next to me. He scanned his eyes over my frame, curled up in a ball with a blanket wrapped around my body. Shuffling closer to me I unravelled myself and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight then placed his large, warm hand under my pyjama top and onto the base of my stomach, slightly reliving my uncomfortable cramps. I sighed contently “thank you.” He answered with a soft kiss to my temple then used his free hand to gently stroke my hair.
Miniminter:
“Simon?” I stepped out of his bathroom. “Yea babe?” He looked up from his phone. “I just started my period and I- I didn’t bring anything with me.” I said nervously. We’ve only been dating for around 3 months so haven’t really had that many conversations about anything to do with my monthly cycle. He stood from the bed “do you feel ok?” He asked, placing his hands on my cheeks. I leaned into his touch “yea.” I replied quietly. “Good. I’ll run out and grab you some stuff.” He said walking back over to the bed and grabbing his phone. “Oh Si, you don’t have to.” He shook his head “I’ll be back in 15.” He said with a light smile.
He came back almost exactly 15 minutes later with an array of different sanitary products, saying “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked”, along with a bar of dairy milk chocolate and popcorn. “Wanna watch a movie in bed?” He asked. I smiled “you’re so cute.”
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cas-kingdom · 10 months
Note
For drabble requests will you write
“If I have to tell you again, I won’t be this nice.” And “I can do whatever I want!”
With The Vampire Diaries or Chicago Fire pretty please? 😊
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"Aw, seriously?"
Stefan groaned as he walked through the front door of the manor to find you in the exact place he had left you. Pausing for a moment to collect himself so he didn't grow too exasperated at your ignorance, he tilted his head up to the ceiling, shut his eyes, and clenched his fists at his side.
"Y/N," he said eventually, turning towards the couch. When you didn't answer, your head bobbing along to something he couldn't hear, he sighed and walked towards you. "Y/N." Again, nothing, so he flicked the back of your head. "Y/N Salvatore, if I have to tell you again, I won't be this nice."
You sighed and pulled your headphones off, whipping your head around to face your brother. “What? I was listening to a true crime podcast and it was just getting good." As your brother sighed and walked over to the bookcase, you crossed your legs beneath you and followed him with your eyes. “Honestly, I'm pretty sure it was a vampire that killed the garbageman.”
Stefan was unamused. He took books from the case and put it in a backpack. “We’re gonna be late for school.”
You scowled. “Not this again.”
“What do you mean, ‘not this again’? I wasn’t kidding when I said I enrolled us, Y/N.”
“Well, that was stupid of you." When Stefan turned to give you a look, you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. "Why do we have to go to school, Stefan? We’re vampires.”
“Which means we need to blend in." Stefan picked up a second backpack and filled it with just as many books. You'd only been in Mystic Falls a week but Stefan had decided that school enrollment was better than sitting around. He'd attended many schools over his lifetime but you had always backed out, preferring to live your long, vampire existence in the presence of books and writing and art. This time, though, he'd taken the decision for the both of you. He knew you'd be staying at the boarding house for longer than you'd stayed in any other of your homes, and he knew you would have to make it look real.
You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. With a sigh, Stefan put the bags down and walked towards you. He uncrossed your arms and held your hands in his, ensuring you couldn't escape his gaze. "Please," he said gently. "For me. For your favourite big brother."
You rolled your eyes but the hint of a smile pulled at your lips anyway. "I didn't have a lot of choice in picking favourites," you reminded him. Stefan breathed a short laugh as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I know it won't be easy," he said, "but I promise it'll be for the best. You need socialisation...friends. Soon enough you'll get bored of me and then you won't know what to do with yourself."
"I won't get bored of you," you said, leaning in to rest your forehead on your brother's chest. "But okay. I'll go to school. But I want you to know I'm not happy about it."
Stefan shut his eyes in silent relief. You were the perfect mix of your brothers, which made you a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't honestly known how the day would end, but he was glad things seemed to be going in the right direction.
"I hear you, babe," he said with a kiss to the top of your head. He pulled away and nudged you in the direction of the stairs. "Go get ready."
You spun on your heel and plonked yourself down on the couch once more to finish your podcast. "I'm always ready."
TVD Masterpost
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ven-on-trial · 1 year
Text
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Ascending Heaven
Aki Hayakawa x AFAB!Reader x Angel Devil
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warnings: MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, afab!reader (reader has breasts & a vagina), they/them pronouns for reader, unlabelled poly relationship, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, praise, handjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, masturbation, reader on top & bottom, smoking, mentions of death
wc: 4.0k
summary: "It has never seemed right to exclude Angel from the sex that you have, but he always insists that it isn’t worth the risk of skin-to-skin contact. Always finds an excuse to leave before you can convince him to stay. And it makes sense, sure, but it doesn’t stop the fact that there is always a void missing from the carnal activities you partake in."
this is the first full smutfic i've posted so uhh i will apologise in advance if the smut itself is a little janky in places im still not entirely used to writing it lmfao. also i swear they are protected but it is 5am i have worked on this for 9hrs straight and i do not have the energy to edit a mention in pls forgive me ;-;
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Smoke lingers in the air as Aki passes his cigarette across to you between two lithe fingers, stretched out languidly across his bed whilst you sit propped up with plump pillows against the headboard. 
He has long since taken down his hair, allowing the shoulder-length black strands to fall loose across his shoulders and frame his face. You think he looks much prettier like this, more unwound and destressed, like the burden of existence has abandoned him for just a moment. 
Seeing him so unashamedly himself in these late evening encounters ignites something within your soul, something tepid but sturdy, like the early flickering embers of a roaring fire. Like a hearth, nestled in the centre of a grand living room, its small yet radiant heat enough to warm the entire space. And when he leans his head back, smiles, and lets out an unbridled amused chuckle, you know you’re lucky enough to be seeing him at his most comfortable. 
Though he is still in his work clothes, blazer left by the front door already, with his shirt untucked and the first few buttons popped open, it looks like he has found a new sense of freedom within the four walls of this room. With you, and with the man who sits comfortably in the armchair on the far side of the room, eyes on you as he waits for you to pass across the cigarette. 
Angel Devil is something all of his own entirely. He is still fully dressed, not a single crease out of place in his attire, as he rests his head lazily atop his arms, long lashes batting at you in such an enticing way that it is a wonder you haven’t risen from your spot and plonked yourself in his lap already. 
His wings are tucked up flat behind his back, angled just right with how he has bent forwards so that they aren’t being squished against the chair. They flex subconsciously with each rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, almost like they’ve a life of their own separately to him. 
Angel is, you think, so very deserving of his namesake. Ethereal and otherworldly as he smiles fondly at you, the dim light of the bedside lamp reflecting off his halo and casting faint golden slivers across the bed and the walls. It is like he is trying to illuminate yours and Aki’s resting forms from where he sits, gentle kisses of light heavensent, his own personal rendition of an embrace. 
There is no name given to the situation that the three of you have found yourselves in, though there certainly are plenty if you were to sit and think about it. It’s fairer that way, you decided early on, to each of you. After all, the Public Safety Division isn’t exactly the place one works when they want to maintain lasting relationships with other people. 
And yet you always find yourselves in each others’ company of a night. 
Sometimes it’s just two of you, if someone is unlucky enough to have to work late. But more often than not it is all three, sitting together like this in Aki’s bedroom, passing cigarettes between each other as if it were utter blasphemy to each nurse your own. 
Perhaps it is something about the intimacy of the action, the indirect kiss (as childish as Aki might deign to tell you it is), and the bond of trust that comes with directly sharing the little nicotine sticks like this. Whatever it is, it is tinged with a fervent emotion, an unfathomable longing that brings you back to one another night after night. The desire to be whole, maybe, to fill the void that lingers within the shell of your heart. 
And it is this same intangible desire that has Aki bringing a fallow hand to your cheek and pulling you to him when you return to the bed, pressing kisses to you with all the same admiration as a hoarder with their grandest treasure. His lips pass against you like static, a pleasant tingling sensation that blossoms out from the point of impact and ripples across your skin. 
It is so very easy to fall into a rhythm when you kiss, senses heightened by sheer virtue of touching one another, the culmination of the past few weeks of teasing and flirting finally coming to fruition now that you have the chance to have one another like this. 
Angel finishes the smoke you’ve just given him, stubs it out on the little ashtray he’s kept on one of the chair arms. “I can go,” he offers, causing you to lift your head and turn to him, “if you want to… carry this on?”
But you are reluctant as he says this, and a shared glance with Aki tells you that he is as well. It has never seemed right to exclude Angel from the sex that you have, but he always insists that it isn’t worth the risk of skin-to-skin contact. Always finds an excuse to leave before you can convince him to stay. And it makes sense, sure, but it doesn’t stop the fact that there is always a void missing from the carnal activities you partake in.
“You don’t have to leave,” Aki says. “We don’t have to do anything if it’s going to make you uncomfortable, or make you go home.”
“I know it helps you unwind,” Angel pouts, rising to his feet. Of course, thinking of your wellbeing no matter how much he’ll insist he doesn’t really care. “And I can’t get involved anyway, so why stay?”
“Angel, darling, why don’t you tell us how you want us?” you suggest, fidgeting against the plush sheets beneath you. “This way you can be a part of it too. It’s not fair to ask you to leave, after all.”
It takes a moment for Angel to respond, the wires in his brain short-circuiting at your proposal. He’s frozen in stasis at first between standing and sitting, hands still gripping the arms of the chair in mid-lift. His gaze flickers between you and Aki, both of whom look back expectantly as you await an answer. The reality of your proposition seems to be sinking in as his mouth opens and closes, words forming but not quite escaping.
And then he sits. And then he speaks. 
“On top,” he says hesitantly. “I want you to be on top of him.”
Obediently, Aki moves to lay beside you, fingertips lingering against your waist to coax you into straddling him. 
After a few airy laughs whilst you fumble and reposition yourself on his lap, you are at last sat the way that Angel has directed. Aki’s cock strains in his trousers and presses against your clothed pussy as he reaches up to claim your lips, rubbing in just the right way to catch your breath in your throat. 
Aki steals the hitched air from you, swallowing it as he kisses you hard, hastily unbuttoning your shirt and pushing it off your shoulders. You shrug it off the rest of the way, tossing it to some imageless void on the far side of the room, reaching down to unzip Aki’s trousers as he grinds urgently against you. 
“Is this… good for you?” you check with Angel, resting your head upon Aki’s shoulder as he works at unclasping your bra. He is watching with wide eyes, blown-out pupils, and a wavering breath. Giving you a furtive nod in response in lieu of verbal coherency, you take his actions as a sign to continue and lean back on Aki’s lap, tenderly pulling his cock free from his boxers. “Okay, let me know if you want us to stop. That goes to both of you, of course.”
Aki’s warm breath fans against your cheeks heavily in anticipation as his eyes close and his chest heaves. Your hand finds his dick readily and he rises to your touch as you grip him, a needy whine slipping from parted lips. He falls into a responsive acquiescence easily whilst in your hands, pliable like putty, and the quiet moans that spill from him sound so pretty as they roll down his chin. 
“Tell me, Aki,” Angel hums, confidence finding him now as he folds one leg elegantly across the other, leaning back in the chair, “how does it feel with them touching you?”
“Good,” Aki pants, “feels so good.”
“You can give him more than that, my love,” you urge, kissing along the side of Aki’s neck. “What exactly feels good?”
Accented by a particularly loud gasp as you squeeze the base of Aki’s cock, he murmurs, “feels good when you do that, when you’re rough with me, please.”
“Good boy,” you say, pressing another kiss for praise. His nails dig into your shoulderblades as you stroke him, the slight biting pain keeping you grounded. 
With your full attention on Aki now, him reverent and hot beneath your wandering hands, you can hear Angel shifting to your right. It must be just as torturous to him, watching his partners engaging with one another’s bodies and being unable to join in, as it is for the pair of you missing out on the chance to touch him in turn. 
His direction is indulgent, selfish, urging you to shift whenever you get a little too into the moment, just so he can get the best view possible. But it is worth it, to feel him there with you in any regard. And Aki is even more responsive tonight than when you fuck alone, as though the sensation of being watched and commanded has heightened his senses and elevated him into a separate state of bliss. 
There is something about the three of you occupying this space together, even if you weren’t currently hazed with carnal desire, that feels like you have sequestered yourselves away in a personal segment of paradise. Nobody can encroach on your privacy here, no public safety offices, no death, no destruction, no annoyingly endearing not-quite-explicitly adopted teenagers. The weight of reality has lifted from your shoulders as though it has evaporated into the air around you, still present, but now negligible here. 
“Fuck,” Aki moans, dragging the tips of his fingers against your flesh as he reaches for your clit, desperate to hold as much of you as he can every step of the way. Your movements jolt as the sweet friction of his gently circling thumb wracks through your body, and you swear that the room starts to spin when you rock against him to encourage him to press in deeper. 
As the first orgasm of the night hits you, it is steady, building up like a stream of bubbles and bursting in billowing swells. Aki’s cum spills out onto your stomach and you press your forehead to his as you both ride out the last few thrusts of your climax, peppering feathery kisses to the tip of his nose. 
“Do you want us to do anything else?” Aki asks to Angel, absently running his hand across your shoulder as you come down from your high.
“Could you… eat them out?” Angel suggests. You can see how his wings twitch in anticipation, as does his cock, at the thought, and it brings the heat pooling back to your pelvis already.
Aki’s attention turns to you- “you okay with that?”- and when you nod eagerly, situating yourself on your back and spreading your thighs invitingly, he laughs at your enthusiasm. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
You’re already soaked from earlier, your sweet pussy glistening in the light as Aki grasps onto your hips and settles between your thighs. His tongue is so hot when it presses against you, runs through your folds and laps at your clit. Fingers threading through his hair, your head falls against the pillows, crying out when his tongue dips inside you. 
Aki eats you out with practice, with fervour, taking breaks to nip across the expanse of your thighs until they are squeezing either side of his head and you are quietly urging him to continue, to stay right there and to keep doing that, just like that, good boy.
“Make a mess for us,” Angel commands, voice soft and light and so pretty as it breaks through the symphony of your moans and Aki’s gentle hums of affirmation echoing as praise against your dripping cunt. 
It is all you need to spill over the edge for a second time, crying out incoherently as this orgasm hits you harder and with far much more sensitivity. Your clit aches through the aftershocks, cunt clenching at the sudden lack of friction. 
“Fuck,” you say, tone imbued with a giggle as the last throbs of pleasure ebb and flow from your body. “I hope you guys don’t want to do anything else tonight, I don’t think I can take it.”
“Sure you can,” Aki taunts playfully, leaning in close to steal a kiss. “Just one more?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you laugh harder, squealing as he continues to smother your face in kisses. 
“What about if it’s for Angel?” Aki says, gently turning your head to face the devil in question. You exchange a glance with him, drinking in the blissed out but certainly not sated expression that glimmers in his eyes, as Aki whispers against your ear. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint our sweet boy when he’s been so patient with us, would you?”
“Okay,” you hum in agreement, “for Angel. That okay, baby?”
Angel perks up as you call across to him and voices his approval, readjusting his position on the armchair to get comfortable once more. 
There is a quiet moment as Aki positions himself over you, one hand cradling your cheek and the other steady on your hip, where those gentle glimmering reflections from Angel’s halo paint the room once more. You are bathed in gold for several seconds, which stretch into endless hours as your breaths intermingle in the space between you, chests rising and falling in sync.
Angel may not be able to physically touch either of you right now but it is more obvious in these few seconds than it has been all evening that he is so intrinsically tangled into your lovemaking tonight. When Aki pushes into you, it is Angel’s name you gasp into his shoulder, and if you were not so drowned out in the pleasure of feeling full, you would have heard the same name tumble from Aki’s lips in turn. 
You are so used to the sensation of Aki by now that you could map his body blind, but there is something new in the mix tonight and it leaves everything feeling so much fresher, as though you’ve been dropped back into unchartered territory and told to make your way out again. It is thrilling, addictive even, to feel Aki, to revel in the warmth of his body against yours and the familiar sound of his hips slapping against your own, whilst hearing another voice in the mix, another set of frantic breaths and another scent that mixes with the familiar smell of your usual sex and turns it into something so much more.
“Does that feel good?” Angel pipes up airily, earning muffled groans of satisfaction in response as you find a steady rhythm to match Aki’s thrusts and your cunt starts to clench around his cock. He beckons your attention with a lilting call of your name. “How does it feel to be so stuffed with Aki’s cock?”
“Angel,” you whine, fingers digging into the firm curve of Aki’s ass to draw him deeper within you, to feel every single inch of him as he fucks you, “stop teasing.”
“What do you think I could do if I were there too?” he continues, paying no mind to your half-hearted protests. “Maybe I’d take your ass whilst Aki fucks you… or you could have my dick in your mouth. Perhaps I’d fuck Aki whilst he fucks you- oh, you both seem to like that one.”
Despite his words, Angel is just as flushed and dishevelled as the pair of you, his own hand tightly fisting his dick and his hair a mess cascading across his shoulders as he slumps heavily into the armchair he occupies. 
He garners more confidence in the heat of the moment, becoming more vocal, as though he has to babble out every thought in his mind whilst he unravels. And you certainly can’t say you mind it, as each word brings you closer to the edge, brings Aki closer, hot breaths mingling as you dip in to steal a kiss, and another, and a third whilst he fucks into you. 
Aki’s cock pulses as his thrusts falter, as he kisses you with such unbridled vigour that the air is stolen entirely from your lungs for the second time tonight and you feel lightheaded when your third orgasm of the night finally comes crashing over you in waves. Your body feels electric, alive, like every single nerve is awake and feeling absolutely every single sensation coursing through you. 
In your ears and the base of your neck, you feel your own heartbeat thudding. 
Aki takes your face so tenderly in his large hands as you come down from your high, placing sloppy haphazard lips to your forehead and nose and chin. 
As your head lulls to the side, you see Angel with parted lips and flushed cheeks, hand still resting atop his softening cock and cum painting his chest as he watches you fondly. You smile across at him and the little quirk of his lips in response is enough to sate you before Aki steals your attention once more. 
“I’m gonna get some stuff to clean us up, okay?”
“Mmh,” you nod slowly, “okay.”
With the bed to yourself, you spread your arms out and stretch your muscles to realign yourself in the wake of your previous activity. Getting comfortable in the middle of the pillows, you turn to Angel again. 
“Was this good for you?” you ask quietly. “I mean… I know it can’t be the same as the real thing, but did it help?”
“It did,” he says. “It was better than I thought it could be.” 
“I’m glad,” you say. “We've wanted to find a way for you to join us in this for so long.”
“I’ve wanted that, too,” Angel agrees, stretching out his wings and groaning under the exertion. “You both look so pretty when you’re fucking like that, you know.”
Giggling, you toss one of the throw pillows across at him- “don’t say that! -” but he catches it easily and cradles it to his chest as he laughs back at you. 
He looks adorable like this, cheeks and nose still pink, even his chest dusted lightly with red, and sweat making the shorter strands of hair on his forehead cling to the skin. Pillow clutched against him like a lifeline, tight in his grasp as though he's trying to substitute it for something else. 
"I want to touch you so badly," he complains, sighing as he collapses back into the chair again. "You think Aki will be up for another round?" 
"Not tonight," the man in question replies smoothly, tossing a spare towel across the room. Angel doesn't catch this one as easily, the fabric instead thwacking him square in the face and skewing over his head. "We've got work in the morning." 
The pout Angel gives as an attempt to convince Aki otherwise fails to win out, whilst Aki attentively cleans you up. He runs a warm damp washcloth across you to wipe away the cum staining your cunt and stomach, patting your thighs to encourage you to spread open again for him. "C'mon, the quicker I do this the sooner we can all cuddle." 
Which has Angel practically scrambling to clean himself up in turn, getting up and heading to the chest of drawers by the window to rummage through Aki's old shirts. A looser one procured for himself, one he slit holes for his wings in long ago, lays folded neatly on the top and he hangs it across his forearm as he digs around for another one for you. 
"Ooh, that one!" you declare as you spot your favourite, a baggy old thing that was already several sizes too large for Aki when he first got it, and you catch it when Angel tosses it across to you. You lose yourself in the soft cotton fabric as you wrestle it over your head, but eventually it is on and you finish up your bedtime outfit with the bottoms you brought with you. 
Aki has since settled into bed beside you, arms around your middle and drawing you close into him. It’s far easier to lay yourself wholly against Aki, with no worries about how you’re positioned. His chest is broad and comfortable, pectorals like pillows as you nestle against them, and his thick arms squeeze you gently whenever you shift, like he’s reassuring you that he’s still there. 
And although it is a little more awkward to situate Angel, you choose to be the one closest to him when you lay like this in case of accidents. After an argument following the discovery of Aki’s remaining lifespan, you had decided that it was less risky to situate you in between the pair of them. You had the chance to have a much longer life ahead of you, more to get away with on the very unlikely chance that Angel would sap something from you as you all sleep. 
Angel gets to bury his head into your chest this way, though, embracing you as fully as he can manage, with his mouth in the perfect vicinity to press grateful kisses against your clothed collarbone and along the slope of your breasts as you allow sleep to take hold of your weary forms. Loose strands of fine pink hair tickle your chin as you resist the urge to kiss atop it- just in case- and you lean your own head back into Aki’s chest as he runs his hand idly along Angel’s covered shoulder. 
You’re sandwiched between the two of them, really. A physical buffer, a conduit of the tender affection that passes through the veins of all three bodies like a live electric current, like the three of you, when kept together, are a complete circuit pulsing with something far beyond any of your comprehension.
And yet none of you could ask for more as the early hours of the morning draw near and the city lights filter beneath the thick blackout curtains, a subtle reminder that the return of the life you’ve spent the evening avoiding approaches ever nearer with each passing second. 
You’ll wake in the morning to Angel somewhere across the other side of the room, having shifted impossibly in the night and practically flung himself off the bed. Aki will have risen before you and left to make breakfast for the pair of you, and for the insatiable teens that will almost certainly be the cause of your awakening in the first place. The bed will be yours alone for those first few solitary minutes of the day, before you finally have to force yourself from your reverie and face the world. 
But it is home. 
And it is enough. 
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hells-plaid-angel · 2 years
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In theory, if Cas ever did realise he was in love with Dean pre-deal with The Empty and actually decided to shoot his shot, I’d imagine a string of hilarity and miscommunication would ensue. There’s no way Cas would try to flirt with Dean if he thought it’d be received badly, but every now and again, Dean gives him just enough hope he thinks maybe it’s possible Dean likes him back. 
Say Cas shows up unexpectedly and Dean’s doing their movie night alone since Cas was away,  on some plot-relevant side quest. Cas arrives back unannounced because it’s movie night and what he’s doing can wait a day. Dean’s too thick to realise Cas has come back for him, and royally puts his foot in his mouth by asking why Cas is there, making the angel feel like he shouldn’t be because the course of true love never did run smoothly and when given the opportunity Dean will screw himself over when it comes to affection. 
Cas isn’t sure where they stand and wonders if he should stay and watch the film or leave. After awkwardly standing beside Dean’s armchair, watching the screen for longer than what would be deemed socially acceptable, Dean lets out a huff and says, ‘Just sit down,’ meaning, of course, for Cas to sit beside him in what Dean’s deemed ‘Cas armchair’. Cas takes Dean’s words literally and plonks down on the arm of Dean’s chair, smacking their shoulders together and settling in. 
The thing is, Dean lets him. He might grumble, but he doesn’t get Cas to move. He’s had a long night, having also returned from a hunt hours before and he’s beat. Before Cas knows it, Dean’s face is smooshed up against his shoulder and he’s open-mouthed snoring. Cas still thinks he’s the most beautiful human he’s ever seen and is in awe because Dean’s being vulnerable with him. He knows the man has trouble sleeping, plagued by dreams of Hell and hunts. Cas knows Dean doesn’t sleep with just anyone, even when he has casual sex, he rarely stays long after the act, so Cas looks down at the sleeping man and for the first time he thinks, ‘maybe’. Maybe Dean likes him back. He has no idea what to do with that possibility. He sits there quietly for the rest of the night because Dean’s an angry sleeper (like a bear) and Cas isn’t going to wake him up. 
He decides to tread lightly and toy with the idea of trying to flirt with Dean, without overtly flirting with Dean. He has no idea how to do this. After all his years on earth, there are still a lot of things that confuse him. While he and Dean are on a hunt sometime later, they pull over to a gas station. When Dean’s paying Cas mindlessly flips through the magazine stumbling on some shitty Cosmopolitan article about romance and flirting. They mention one way to show you are interested in someone is by showing curiosity in their likes and dislikes. 
So for the rest of the journey, Cas becomes almost insufferable with questions. He knows Dean’s top 13 favourite Led Zeppelin songs, but is Led Zeppelin Dean’s favourite band? What are Dean’s top 13 favourite bands? What is Dean’s favourite number? Does he have a favourite colour? Why is that his favourite colour? He rattles off questions for the entirety of their 14-hour trip cross country and Dean is confused as hell but decides to humour Cas because he does love talking about bands and movies, plus it’s not like anyone’s ever taken so much of an interest in him. 
Sometime towards the end of the trip, Dean realises he has no clue what Cas’ favourite anything is- do angels even have favourites? Wasn’t that meant to be the whole thing  about angels? All men are created equal and all that. Still, Dean asks. For the most part, Cas doesn’t have answers. He’s not sure who his favourite band is, though he can hesitantly say a few songs he likes better than others. It’s like they discover his favourite things together, unearthing them. Cas says with conviction his favourite colour is green and when Dean asks why he simply says, ‘Because it reminds me of you,’ and moves on. Dean goes silent for a long time after that but Cas is still left thinking that maybe Dean could love him. After all, he showed interest in Cas’ likes and dislikes as the magazine suggested. 
Something Cas learned from Dean’s movies was that humans showed affection through nicknames, strange terms of endearment that reminded them of sugary foods or woodland animals. Dean reminded Cas of neither, so he was unsure what kind of word to use to show his affection. Dean shortened his name. Perhaps this was his way of using a term of endearment, maybe Cas had missed some sign and should have given Dean a nickname of his own.  In the end, he settles for something in his mother tongue, because he’s better at expressing himself in Enochian. 
He uses a word for Dean which is both very intense and oddly specific, something that translates roughly to ‘Evergreen lover, formed of star ash’. Like a golden retriever, after having the stilted cacophony of consonants and vowels thrown in his direction for long enough Dean simply shrugs his shoulders and answers to the name. I’m talking a name that trembles like a sub-bass and causes stray dogs to howl and Dean just looks up of a morning from his bowl of Fruit Loops and goes, ‘oh yeah that’s me. Mornin’ Sunshine’. Bonus points if others around him know exactly what the name means, other angels, demons, maybe even Sam when he gets curious and looks through the bunker’s archives for an Enochian Dictionary. 
After all this, Cas is no closer to working out if Dean harbours affection towards him or not. So after some exasperated brainstorming, Cas decides to meet Dean where he’s at and attempts to express affection the way he knows Dean does. He cooks Dean’s breakfast and makes his coffee every morning because Dean expresses his love through security, caring for others and he especially loves food. It should be noted the bacon is burnt, the egg is raw and the coffee tastes like dishwater, but each morning Dean gives Cas a goofy, lopsided grin and thanks him. He’s grateful, Cas realises but he still has no idea if Dean’s in love with him. 
With his one last-ditch effort, Cas decides to try physical touch. Dean’s a tactile creature. He loves touch. So Cas tries to give it to him. He rests his hand on his shoulder or his side as he walks past Dean. If they are parting ways Cas pulls Dean into a hug. He’s stunned at first, but he lets it happen and even gets used to it after a while, so Cas gets more brazen. He wraps his foot around Dean’s ankle when they sit together at the map table. He pushes his palm into Dean’s when they’re sitting alone in their armchairs for movie night and that’s what finally pushes Dean over the edge. 
“Look man, I know you’re not human and you don’t get how stuff works but you can’t do junk like that. It’ll give people the wrong idea,” Dean would warn because his self-loathing, self-deprecating, still very closeted self would never in a million years dare to let himself think Cas knows what he’s doing.
“And what is the wrong idea?” Cas would ask. 
“You know, dude. That you like me. More than a friend like me,” Dean would explain and Cas would give him the most world-wearied, withering look and  sigh, “That is very much the idea I’ve been trying to get across,” He’d explain. 
And Dean would need about an hour for his brain to stop short-circuiting, long enough for him to reply, 
“Oh.” 
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lino-nyangi · 2 years
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think. minho finding you asleep on your bed or dozing or just on your phone in the middle of the day and he just. plonks himself onto you. full body. refuses to move. wiggles around and makes himself comfortable there. falls asleep and his little face is so soft and open as his breaths puff out onto your chest. : )
no no no i'm gonna cry where do I sign up for this. minho is a plonker and no one can change my mind. i was actually writing something very similar so I'm just gonna incorporate it here.
soft cuddly minho thoughts;
because it's his birthday and i love him more than love itself.
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🍮 suggested bgm: i swear i'll never leave again - keshi
warnings: just absolute devastation. tissues may come in handy 🤧 you'll want to hold a minho in your arms forever. mentions of hickeys and oral fixation but in a purely non sexual way!!
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sleepy minho is a snuggly cuddle bug and i think we should talk about it.
the way his heavy eyelids flutter shut as he holds you, or you hold him. doesn't matter in minho's book as long as he gets to be close to you. and i mean so close. him spooning you, you letting him rest his head on your chest or shoulder, cuddling face to face with your legs tangled, plush lips smushed against one another, him laying face down on your belly with his arms around your waist. it doesn't matter.
in this case he just. lays his entire body on top of you. you let out a strangled whine that's a bit exaggerated, as if you're being squished to death, at the sudden weighted blanket service you never asked for.
he doesn't move, except for fidgeting slightly to find the most comfortable position. and you don't complain. it's like when a cat chooses to loaf on your lap for an indefinite amount of time. moving is illegal. you're the chosen one.
"well hello there, big boy" you coo, wrapping your arms around him and he squishes his face against your chest. maybe, just maybe, trying to tell you that today, he wants to be your smol boy.
you kiss the top of his head, scratching shortly at his scalp and his bones turn into butter at the touch.
minho hums softly in content, breath steadying against your chest and eyelids fluttering shut.
he'd keep snuggling up until he's able to nuzzle his face impossibly close in the crook of your neck, pouty lips pecking the skin every so lightly, barely even moving. he takes a deep breath, inhales your scent then hums.
sleepy minho hums a lot. and it's the softest thing ever. almost every other exhale is a hum, like a cat purring. his voice low and husky from being sleepy by still soft because he's next to you. and you make him soft.
on rare occasions, he would be especially snuggly and in need of comfort that he has to hug you close to him while he sleeps, his lips against the base of your neck, subconsciously sucking on the skin. very lightly. almost like an oral fixation thing he does to calm him down. the next morning you would wake up with terrible looking hickeys around that area, ones that were left with the most innocent intentions possible.
would whisper tiny inaudible "honey"s & "love you"s, muffled by your skin.
you're not moving away from his hold, if you try to do so he'll just pull you even tighter.
"stay with me."
"min, i need to use the bathroom"
"no you don't,
don't leave, even to the bathroom,
please."
"i'm not going anywhere, baby." you whisper back reassuringly and he hums in content, pecking your skin.
"forever?"
"forever, min." you smile, "where would i go, the mall?" you joke and you hear him chuckle for the first time that day, his mind finally at ease.
"i only have you, you know that. i'll never leave. you'll be sick of me."
"i'll never be sick of you." he hugs you tighter
"good, i'm planning to stay anyway. you're stuck with me for life."
"perfect."
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youhideastar · 4 months
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Deastar’s 5 Most Re-Read Fics of Last Year
My New Year’s resolution was to rec more, so I’m starting with my 5 most re-read fics of the past year!
1 and 2: Blooded Crown and Misethere by Astolat (The Witcher)
Look, I don’t even go here. I’m not even in this fandom. I first read these before the TV show had come out, and let me tell you, it made said TV show very disappointing. But I have re-read these two fics (they’re not related to each other but they’re similar enough that I’ve grouped them together) probably 10 times each over the years. I absolutely fucking love their twisty-ass plots. I love the “what if Wolverine and Machiavelli fell in love” takes on the characters. I love the combination of humor and deadly serious political shit going down. I have a problem and it’s that I can’t stop reading these fics and probably never will.
3: i’ll be your girl by plonk (The Untamed/MDZS, ~30K)
This fic is everything. It’s funny. It will make your heart sore and tender. It has smoking hot sex scene after smoking hot sex scene. It’s pining while fucking (top three trope for me!). It has the absolute most ridiculous premise, and then executes it beyond your wildest dreams, never losing sight of how ridiculous it is. Said premise: Wei Ying seduces Lan Zhan, who he thinks is straight, while dressed up as Britney Spears for Halloween. They continue to hook up, with Wei Ying in a series of themed seasonal drag outfits, while Wei Ying falls in doomed love with a straight guy (or so he thinks), and Lan Zhan tries to figure out what the hell is going on but is too gone on Wei Ying to stop. My all-time comfort object fic.
4: All Old Things Are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (@thefeelswhale) (The Untamed/MDZS, ~52K)
This fic is WAY too long to be a habitual re-read, but that never stops me. “Full-time necromancer and part-time cam boy, Wei Wuxian, finds himself unexpectedly homeless. An enthusiastic patron comes to his rescue. Conversely: Immortal Cultivator Lan Wangji has been waiting a long time for his deceased husband to be reincarnated again. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that this is how it would go.” It is SO satisfying to watch Wei Wuxian slowly lower his (very reasonably raised!) guard and let Lan Wangji take care of him; in many fics, that trope ends up stripping away Wei Wuxian’s inherent badassery, but not here: this Wei Wuxian is so smart and capable and tough as nails, oooh, I like him so much!!! And it does not hurt that the numerous, exquisite sex scenes feature a delightful blend of (a) my favorite all-time kinks and (b) stuff that is not on my usual menu but that magically rocks my world as applied to these characters in this story.
5. This Tornado Loves You by FeelsForBreakfast (@rabbitcrimes) (The Untamed/MDZS, ~9K)
Want to get way, way up close with Lan Zhan’s brain while he realizes that his ferality about Wei Ying does, in fact, go up to eleven? This is the fic for you. I can’t do better than the author’s own summary: “Hanguang-jun is dating a mild mannered, non-cultivator named Wei Wuxian. The Yiling Laozu rolls up to a nighthunt on a motorbike, no relation at all to the previous statement.” This author’s Lan Zhan/Lan Wangji voice is so fucking good, it makes me mad. And SO FUNNY – I have read these jokes probably a dozen times and they STILL make me laugh out loud. The awesome modern cultivation worldbuilding is so casually done that you sleep on how good it is. Finally, this fic is tagged “you will say ‘Yiling Laozu hot’ or your money back,” and let me tell you: you are NOT getting your money back.
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thefireintheshadow · 17 days
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“Always gotta show up where I am, huh?” Joel teased, eyes glittering with amusement. “So obsessed with me.”
Etho rolled his eyes, but there was a smile in his voice. “I was invited. You’re the one that followed me here.”
“I was invited too-”
“You were both invited, jeez,” Gem huffed as she emerged from her fishing hut. “Gosh, Scar was right, you two need to get a room.”
Etho blushed, cheeks pinking over the top of his mask, and it was so cute that she didn’t feel even a little bad about her jab.
“Come down to my storage room,” she said, heading down the stairs to her underwater storage area. She had just finished decorating, and she wanted to show it off – plus privacy was a perk.
“This is a nice room,” Joel said as he trailed in behind Etho. “You giving us a room?”
Etho groaned under his breath, rubbing his forehead and leaning against the glass separating them from the water.
Gem pretended to think it over for a moment. “I mean, if you guys want to fuck it out in here… as long as you don’t mind me watching.” She hopped up on a chest she’d forgotten, leaning back on her hands and swinging her legs. She allowed herself the guilty pleasure of enjoying Etho’s deepening blush. Even the tips of his ears turned red.
But Joel was blushing too, and there was something so charming about Joel when he was flustered. He talked a big game but underneath he was a softie. Plus Gem was very good friends with his wife – and knew just how hard the Etho obsession ran.
Not like Gem could fault him for it. She was better at being cool about it, but she was an Ethogirl, through and through.
“So, what d’you need, Gem?” Joel finally broke the silence, clearing his throat. “You didn’t bring us here to kill us, right?”
“No, no, I’m not red, yet,” she said, and now it was her turn to be nervous. “I, um... When you guys finished Double Life, Pearl told me a lot.”
Both men groaned.
“Blummin’ heck,” Joel muttered, and plonked himself down on the bottom stairs.
“In visceral detail, “Gem continued. “What the Boat Boys were like.”
“Is this some kind of intervention?” Etho asked, eyeing Joel accusingly.
“No,” Gem replied, raising her palms. “Though my offer still stands. No, I...” She took a deep breath and let out a shaky laugh. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You guys were just rotting my brain.”
Joel cocked a brow, his goofy grin returning, that feigned bravado. “Did you bring us here because you’re obsessed with us?”
Gem looked at the ceiling. “God,” she murmured. “Why’d it have to be Joel?”
“You tell me, princess,” he said with a wink, and Etho groaned again but Gem shivered at the nickname. She had to just spit it out.
“I have had a very particular fantasy in my head for a long time,” she began. “I thought about talking to you during Secret Life but everything was so chaotic and the tasks and stuff… but now we’re in a unique situation with Demise and...”
Etho was staring at her. This expression was no longer flustered. He looked intrigued. That was a good sign. Joel didn’t fill the silence with any snarking, which was a first.
“I suppose I have a request... if you’re interested, of course.”
[read on ao3]
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wzrd-wheezes · 2 months
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Sirius Black taking you back to his dorm after you got really drunk at the club, helping you into bed, but he almost forgets one important thing. He helps you take your makeup off.
AN - sorry that this took me a little while to get around to. I haven't written anything for Sirius for a little while so I'm a bit rusty. I hope you enjoy <3
Sirius fought as he tried to usher Y/N up the staircase, his destination - a mere stones throw away, seemed impossibly distant. Y/N’s flailing limbs and erratic movements made the task increasingly more difficult. He steadied her with one hand gently against the small of her back, determined to stop her from tumbling back down the stairs.  
As they finally reached the top, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that they had made it without any mishaps. He plonked Y/N down on his bed and she sat looking up at him with a lopsided grin.  
“What am I going to do with you, eh?” Sirius asked, smiling at her.  
“We’re in your room.” she stated, looking around, eyes wide.  
“Well observed. Pissed out of your mind but still as sharp as ever.” he laughed.  
“Your room is pretty.” her gaze drifted to the posters on his wall and the lights that twinkled lowly. It was so stereotypically Sirius; an amalgamation of all of his interests, chaotically thrown together but still looking perfect. “How come we’re here? Did I lose my keys again?”  
Sirius shook his head and chuckled, sitting down next to her on the bed as she frantically looked through her bag.  
“No, you didn’t lose your keys again. I just didn’t fancy you going home on your own when you’re like this. Besides, my place is closer to town.” he explained. “Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” 
“When I’m like what?” She looked at him with an accusatory expression.  
“Drunk. Now, drink that water or else your head will be pounding in the morning.” Sirius said sternly. 
Y/N rolled her eyes at him, her movements a bit unsteady as she reached for the glass of water Sirius had placed on his bedside table. With a sloppy grin, she chugged down the water, spilling a few drops in the process. Sirius rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a t-shirt and offering it to her. She blinked at him with a puzzled look on her face. 
“For you to sleep in.” he smiled, “Don’t want you wrecking your dress.” 
“You’re so kind. Looking after me like this.” She beamed up at him, her eyes glassy and smile lopsided.  
“Just trying to be a good host,” he smirked, helping her steady herself as she slipped on his t-shirt and wriggled out of her dress.  
“Well, you’re succeeding.” she declared, her words punctuated by a hiccup. With a gentle laugh, Sirius guided her back into his bed and tucked the covers around her.  
He had barely made it to the door when he paused, a sudden realisation hitting him. With a soft curse under his breath, he turned on his heel and doubled back on himself. 
“Back so soon?” Y/N grinned. 
“Forgot something important. Can’t let you sleep with your makeup on.”  
He perched on the bed, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle of makeup remover. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as he slowly wiped away the smudged mascara under her eyes. 
“I’m so happy.” murmured, smile still plastered on her face. 
“Enjoy it while it lasts. I can’t imagine tomorrow's hangover will be as pleasant,” Sirius chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face before heading over to switch the lights off, “G’night, love. Give me a shout if you wake up and need anything.”  
Y/N didn’t reply. She had already drifted off to sleep. 
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buckgasms · 2 years
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"Bunny & Clyde" The Bet
Sooooo y'all really like the previous Bunny and Clyde and my heart is so full ❤️ we are all sluts and I'm so fucking happy about it 😭
So I did another one... Hope you like it 😘
Warnings: Mob Bucky, Bunny is still cray, possessive Bucky, Is dancing for dolla a warning? Rough sex, cock warming, fingering, squirting..
Also dayum jlo
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You arrived at the club with Bucky in his fancy car. You had spent most of the journey straddling his lap, grinding against him as his hands smoothed over your body, his tongue explored your mouth. You both took turns biting and nipping at each other, your petulant attempt at dominance arousing and infuriating him all at once.
When the car came to a stop you were both breathless and horny. You pressed your forehead to his. "Urgh why did you have to work tonight? We could have gone to bed nice and early?" You pouted and wiggled your hips as he chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I've gotta make money Bunny, keep you in those pretty dresses and shoes you like so much." You giggled and rolled your eyes, tugging at his shirt, "how much money is worth missing an early night with me?" He pulled you in for another kiss before moving to open the car door. "25 grand for one meeting ain't bad huh baby?"
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You dragged your heels as he lead you into the club and although you greeted everyone with a happy face, you weren't satisfied in the slightest.
When you reached Bucky's office you plonked yourself down in his chair and put your shoes up on his desk. Natasha who had joined you, and Bucky eyed you with amusement as you sat there pouting. "What's the matter Bunny?" Bucky asked, leaning on his desk to look at you. You paused for a moment and shrugged, "I can make 25 grand in a night.... It's nothing worth getting out of bed for... In my opinion." You shrugged again and looked at Natasha for support and she laughed, agreeing that Bucky was an idiot and perched on the arm of the seat, stroking your hair, making your purr at her. "I wouldn't leave any bed you were in, little Zayka." Bucky scowled and you smiled.
"I bet I can make more money than you tonight" you giggled at him and he frowned at you. Since you'd been his girl you hadn't been dancing because he was a jealous possessive man and you loved it. You spread your legs wider as you watched his face and Natasha chuckled behind you. "If I make more money than you tonight, I get your money and can do whatever I like with you all night long..." Bucky cocked an eyebrow, "and I get the same if I win?" You giggled, nodding as his eyes flicked to your heat and back to your devilish face. After a moment, and a big huff, he agreed.
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You kissed him goodbye as his guest arrived and rushed to the changing rooms to find yourself something to dance in and somewhere to top up your makeup.
You were greeted with hugs and squeals when your former colleagues saw you walk in and you explained your challenge against Bucky. Luckily one girl hadn't shown up so there was a slot on the main stage free for you to take in two hours time. That gave you time to work the crowd, offer some private dancers and earn some cold hard cash and beat Bucky.
You had never worked your ass so much in your life. You were the epitome of sexy as you floated through the club, bringing drinks, providing private dances and being the biggest flirt you could be, your sole focus to beat Bucky's grand total. It was a club full of rich and generous types, but you did worry you might have bitten off a bit more than you could chew when you'd finished your fourth private dance before your big number.
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You gave Natasha your tips to take care of while you changed and get yourself ready. As she sat at the bar and counted out your impressive stash of cash, Bucky joined her behind the bar and helped himself to a whisky. "How's my girl doing?" He said looking for you in the crowd, frustrated he couldn't see you immediately. "She's picked up ten grand" Natasha sounded impressed as she stacked up the cash as the music started pounding. "And I reckon she's about to pick up significantly more..."
You swayed onto stage as the cutest, sluttiness bunny anyone has ever seen. You wore a pretty pink lingerie set, sky high heels, some cute bunny ears and a little cotton tail, which no one could quite work out how it was staying in place.
You lip synced to your favourite dancing song, waving at some of your 'favourites' before your eyes caught Bucky's.
You twirled and spun around the pole and shook your body for the crowd as they whooped and cheered and threw cash onto the stage. Bucky stalked up to the stage and took a seat in front on you, and you couldn't help but giggle at his frowny face. The rest of the crowd didn't seem to realise who he was so they kept cheering and throwing money down as you spun round the pole before crawling along the floor towards him. You spun around giving him a perfect view of the bunny tail and how soaked you were at him watching you. Your dance finished with you laying in a pool of money, the crowd whooping and cheering as the lights went down. You glanced at Bucky who was clapping and stood up and leaned over you, slipping a note into your lacy bra and pressing a possessive kiss to your lips.
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You sat in Bucky's lap, his fingers dipping into your folds and playing with you as Natasha counted up your money. He was whispering all the things he was going to do to you because there was no way you'd beaten him. He was praising what a pretty bunny you were. How jealous he was that everyone had seen his Bunny dancing. You had promised him that no one had laid a hand on his Bunny and how you had been a good girl all night long.
He captured your lips in a soft kiss before Natasha slammed down your money on the table. "I'm amazed Bunny, I don't think I've seen a girl take this much cash in one night....ever." You bit your lip before smiling shyly at her, not being able to stop wiggling your bottom against Bucky's crotch. He rubbed your thighs and squeezed your tummy when Natasha got ready to make the announcement.
"Grand total.... $24,984..." She looked disappointed for you as you stared at her and gaped. "Are you sure Natty?" You whined and slumped back against Bucky as he pressed a kiss of commiseration to your cheek. Natasha nodded and stacked up the money and leaned over the desk to pinch your chin. "But you did amazing little Zayka" she cooed before leaving the office for Bucky to collect his winnings.
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An hour later you were home, back in bed, sat on Bucky's cock, he held you up by the throat as he fucked upwards slowly, mostly just forcing you to keep his cock warm for a moment, while he caught his breath.
Your pussy was throbbing and puffy from him previously making a claim to it, still furious at the idea of someone else even looking at your cunt. He had gagged you with your little cotton tail and your cheeks were soaked with tears.
"Imagine thinking you could beat me Bunny? What a stupid little cockslut you are... I'm the boss Bun Bun, let me try and help you remember hmm?"
He rolled you over, trapping your under his big body and he fucked you without mercy, your cotton tail gag falling from your mouth and you wailed, your hands clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and making him growl as you pressed harder and harder.
He pulled back, still pounding into you and you squealed. He squeezed your breasts and then placed a slap you your cheek. "Don't come Bunny. Hold it for me pretty baby, or I'll paint your ass red you hear me?"
You cried and moaned but squeezed your eyes shut and tried to think about anything other than how fucking good you felt. "Please Bucky, please.... Can't wait....please, please" you begged but he just pulled out and left you writhing in delicious agony.
"Oh hush bunny" he mocked,"don't be a sore loser..." You pouted before watching him sink two fingers into your folds and jerking. You screamed and clawed at him until he whispered "Come little slut" and you did, squirting over his arm and crying out his name. You couldn't twitching as he let go and leaned over you.
"That's my pretty bunny, got another couple in ya?"
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