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obsessiveimpulses · 4 months

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Sleepless Nights

summary: yuuta cant stop thinking about you

cw: masturbation, somnophilia , choking, pervert yuuta , cumplay?

an: srry if u couldn't tell by now i clearly have a thing for guys masturbating (is that even a thing .. well is now ig)

☆°•

Everyone had always wondered why Yuuta looked so tired all the time. His big puppy eyes were slightly swollen with deep purple bags resting right beneath his lower lashes.

Everyone always wondered... but you knew why. And the reason? It was much more sinister than the simple lie he gave, "Oh... my mind is always racing before bed."

It was late at night, and you were already fast asleep nestled close to Yuuta. His body just grazed yours as the summer heat lingered in the air.

The heat was no bother for Yuuta though - his thoughts were somewhere else. His lie of "too many things to think about to sleep" was sort of true. He just couldn't stop thinking about fucking you.

You laid there so beautiful to him, your mouth was ajar a little bit of drool seeped out. It made him so happy that no one else got to see this cute vulnerable side of you just him, only him. His eyes gazed down your body starting from your soft lips and followed down your neck. Marks from last night claiming your body trailed down your neck and finally ended in your collarbones.

His eyes trailed further following the curve of your back leading right down to your soft plush ass. He sighed. His view was blocked by your soft cotton panties, and his eyes glistened with hunger as he noticed the lace trimming. He imagined himself crawling over on top of you. Slowly peeling your panties down to reveal your bare butt he would massage your shiny skin with his mouth. His wet spit would remain giving you a glossy look.

Before he knew it, he was softly rutting against the mattress. Small moans poured from his lips. His teeth pierced his bottom lip as he tried to keep quiet; a metallic taste filled his mouth.

Trying to not be loud he covered his mouth with his hand. He wouldn't want to wake his princess from her slumber - no matter how much he'd desire to plow down deep into you. He would never want to corrupt you with his perversion. His ruts became rougher as he became more desperate for your touch. He imagined it was your thighs he was rutting into.

How strange it felt craving for your lust when you were right there. But he couldn't ever tell you how much of a pervert he was. How hard his cock got from just looking at your soft thighs. How much precum spilled from his cock just thinking about the way your hair framed your face as you slept. How could he have such perverted thoughts while you slept peacefully next to him?

He rutted against the bed his dark blue briefs covering his pale cock adding a layer of friction between himself and the rough mattress. His face contorted, furrowing his eyebrows in pleasure, if only you could see him now. How lewd he must look with his hand covering his mouth as he grinded himself against the soft mattress.

The thrill of getting caught rushed into his head. If only you opened your eyes now to see the lewd image beside you. How submissive he must look so desperate for you. You'd make him beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for you to fuck him.

As he grew closer to the edge, his ruts became rougher and harder, almost as though he was trying to fuck a hole into the mattress. He wanted his flesh against your flesh like a fucking animal.

The hand covering his mouth stifled his moans. Although it made it hard to breathe, he enjoyed it. The slight dizzy feeling it gave him made him feel euphoric as his orgasm drew closer. He thought to himself; perhaps he should do this to you so you could feel as good as him. He imagined his long cold fingers around your neck, watching as your face turned red in pleasure. The fabric against his cock became too much for him as the warm feeling grew into a tingle going up the spine of his cock.

His cock throbbed with the visceral overwhelming building of pressure. He wanted, no, needed to cum right now as his eyes rested upon your lips. The world dampened around him as recurring jolts of pleasure ran in and out of his cock. His moans became loud despite the muffling of his hand as he cried out for sweet release. His cock twitched as streams of white seeped out; it began staining his briefs. Beautiful whines and moans sang from his lips, only to become muffled by his hand clasping his face. He continued softly humping the bed, riding out his orgasm as his cock softened.

Slowly, he removed his hand from his mouth. Small pants escaped his mouth followed by winces due to his sensitive cock being brushed against the mattress from his movements. He reached down and scooped his cum up onto his fingers. Proudly, he inspected his cum drenched fingers before lifting them up to your mouth. He gently pushed the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Instinctively, you softly sucked his fingers. Fuck... even unconsciously you knew how to please Yuuta.

His cock hardened once again. Fuck no wonder I can't sleep, he thought.

And so with the bed shaking, the bitter taste in your mouth in the mornings, and the constant morning woods Yuuta had, how couldn't you know?

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angelltheninth · 7 months

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A Few More Minutes and Then Some More

Pairing: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano x FemReader

Tags: fluff, cuddles, sharing a bed, cuddles, making out, lazy day, domestic fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Flufftober Day 8: Rainy Day

A/N: I was really looking forward to this flufftober piece, hope you enjoy!

Rainy days weren't that bad of a thing to you, if anything it was an excuse to stay in bed for a little while longer and be lazy for the day. You couldn't think of a better day to spend inside and you couldn't think of a better person to spend it then your boyfriend. If only he would answer your phone calls. Hopefully he's not in some kind of trouble again, or worse in a hospital again.

No, if he was you would have gotten a call already, you're in his emergency contacts after all. Mikey was probably just busy hanging out with his friends, not getting into trouble this time around. Yeah right! He's always getting into some kind of trouble.

Regardless you knew he would be visiting sometime today, he promised. While you got dressed for the day you kept looking over at your phone, waiting for a call or a text, but you were in and out of the bathroom and still nothing. What could he be doing on a rainy day like this that required so much attention? "Am I needy?" Yes, you probably were and it was Mikey's fault for spoiling you.

The rest of your morning routine went without a phone call too. You were right in the middle of making yourself breakfast when there was a series of quick knocks on the door.

You didn't bother to look who it was, it could only be one person. Although you weren't expecting to see Mikey standing in the hallways soaked to the bone.

"You gonna let me in or do I need to ask nicely?" He turned his head up a little to meet your eyes, his hands suspiciously hiding in the pockets of his pants and the top of his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. "Need a kiss for payment?"

Yes, but not right now, "Get in here already." When he passed by you he left little puddles in his wake, the rain draining down his clothes. He looked like he'd been in the rain for a while, there's no way he could have gotten this soaked just from walking to here, it's not even raining that hard yet.

Granted Mikey didn't seem to be shivering at all, which again begs the question, if f he's running to hot he can't feel the cold rain, what the hell has he been up to. "Something in here smells good. What you making babe?" He was careful when running his hand through his hair to get it off his face, he didn't want to splash any more rain around. Mikey turned to you a little smile on his face and beckoned you closer.

"Just bacon and eggs. If you called me I would have made you something too." You approached him while paying mind to the water. When you were close enough he made a move to pull you closer, "Ah-ah, nope. I'm not kissing you like that." You pressed your hand against his face and steered him in the direction of the bathroom, "Go take a bath before you make yourself sick!" Mikey was durable, but he wasn't gonna win a fight against Mother Nature.

"Wanna join me? I might need a little... extra something to warm me up in all the right places." He made a slight hip thrusting motion that he knew would only get him an eyeroll but it was more then worth a try in his opinion. Luckily he turned around just in time not to see your face getting hotter then...

"Shit! My breakfast!" You rushed back into the kitchen, saving your breakfast, mostly anyway.

The water in the shower kept distracting you as you ate. There was a slight urge to take Mikey up on his offer and join him but today was meant to be a lazy day. The next day? Maybe not so lazy.

Mikey though seemed hellbent on making it not a lazy day for either of you as he came out of the bathroom bare-chested and grinning happily. That wasn't what drew your attention though, "Your fists, you were in a fight after all." They were covered in bruises and not it was clear to you why he kept them in his pockets. Right as you noticed he showed them back in, shrugging like it was no big deal, "Nope, not today Mikey, let me have a look."

You took his hands in yours and looked at the little red bruises on his knuckles. The skin was scratched, splintered in various formds of healing but red around, probably due to the hot water he used to take the shower. If he needed to get his fists this banged up the it must have been quite the fight.

Mikey used to hide his injuries from you a lot more when you were only friends, and when you first began dating. Lately he seems to enjoy it when you treat them. At least the smaller ones.

"You should…"

"See the other guys? Yeah, I'm sure they've got it worse." You rubbed your thumbs over the injured knuckles, careful not to press down and make it uncomfortable for him.

Mikey shook his head, another smirk thrown your way, "I wanted to say give me something to wear but if you want me to tell you about the guys I beat up I can. I'm sure it's gonna be a fun story for a nap." You felt heat spreading across your face as you looked down his chest and abs, where little drops of water dripped down into the waistline of his pants. "Then again, maybe you want me more naked."

"Y-You're spending way too much time around Draken!" Or maybe he was finally opening up to you more. After all he's known Draken for longer. "Anyway, today is a lazy rainy day. None of that for you." None of you either but you could keep that to yourself. "Let's get you to bed, you look like you need to sit down and rest." Mikey didn't protest, he just smiled at you and pulled you into his lap when you showed him to the bed. "Mikey! What did I just say?" There was nowhere to go with his arms pulling you against his chest and more importantly his big grin enticing you to get even closer.

When you were close enough he stole a kiss, or two, or three from you. Well, is it really stealing if you give them away so easily.

"Not fair." You rubbed your nose against his and brushed his hair off his forehead, "Your hair is still wet. You really want to catch that cold huh?" Your hands reached for the blanket and draped it around his shoulders, looking very much like he did when he wore his jacket.

"No, just want you close to me. It's better when it's like this." He pulled you down with him, arms around your back and lips against yours, tongue asking for and being granted access to your mouth so easily. "That's better."

You put your whole weight on him, which to him wasn't hard to support, he's been in many brawls where most were taller, heavier and stronger then him and he still came out on top. Right now though he wants you to be on top of him, warming him up with your body, sinking in between his legs and pressing your breasts against his chest, so god damn soft, almost feels like a dream to him.

One hand moved down to your thigh, fingers dancing as far down as he could reach, then slowly back up and snapping the band of your pants against your skin. The sudden sting made your hips buck against his, definitely feeling a little more then you thought you would.

"Pervert." You kissed the word against his neck, leaving red lipstick marks there, marking him as he marked you so many times before. Mikey didn't comment, he didn't push for anything more then kissing, despite what you could so clearly feel down bellow. He seemed too tired to actually go through with what his body wanted. "Sleep, you little hothead."

"In a minute." His voice was already so groggy, his eyelids heavy and breathing evening out, along with yours, "Want to hold you a bit more." You nodded and leaned your head on his chest and sighed when he pulled the blanked from behind his back and on top of the both you, "Don't want you catching a cold either."

He came all this way to see you, after a fight and during rainfall nonetheless, all so he could have an excuse to shower and cuddle at your place. But you couldn't be all that mad at him. Behind that hard, tough guy exterior he really did have a heart of gold. And that heartbeat of his, right in your ear, just so happened to put you to sleep better then simple rain ever could.

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mysmuttyy · 3 months

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REALISATION

summary: mattheo and y/n are enemies, but he has a nightmare that makes his realise he loves her.

⚠️: death, crying, confessions, fluff

Pink: y/n | Red: mattheo.

Monday Morning.

Voices echoed around the room. The voices were heard in front of him, behind him, but not beside him. For the first time in three years, her seat remained empty, chair tucked under the desk- Just like she left it. Mattheo felt odd not having her there, but slowly, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that she’d show up any second.

The class dragged on, the doors opened and closed, but she never walked in. It was like this for the rest of the day, no one had seen her.

His overthinking won and his anxiety set in, the echo of his footsteps following him down the quiet hallways. With a mumble of the password, the doors swung open, allowing him access. The curly haired boy wasted no time in hurrying up those steps, rushing toward her bedroom. His veiny hand clutches onto the handle, knees buckling once his dark eyes spot her limp body lying in a pool of her own blood.

The whole world stops, and he feels a shooting pain coarse throughout his entire body, heart shattering into a million pieces, every ounce of happiness he possessed fading away.

People arrived and he somehow gained the strength to get up, stumbling toward the phone booth, tears streaming down his face as he dialled in her mothers number. Her sweet voice was heard on the other side, sounding just like y/n’s. He felt his heart break all over again, as this mother cried on the other side of the phone, repeatedly asking for him to be joking.

Mrs Drew, y/n’s mother, choked on her cries as she informed Mattheo about y/n’s feelings for him. She was in love with him. That’s all it took for him to fully break down, knees dropping to the floor, loud sobs filling the booth.

“I’m so sorry!” The boy cried, begging for her mothers forgiveness. She cried back, telling him never to apologise.

Monday Morning.

The great hall doors sprung open, slamming into the walls. Everybody turned to look, watching as Mattheo Riddles dark eyes scanned the crowded room. Y/n stared at the man who hated her, noticing a change in his demeanour. Today, he didn’t seem unbothered like usual, he actually seemed to be very bothered.

Once their eyes locked, he smiled, a sweet, genuine smile, one that made butterflies swarm her stomach. Her cheeks flushed red, a smile she couldn’t hide forming across her nervous face. Mattheo Riddle walked down from the doors, heading toward her. She watched, eyes following his figure, melting when his hand cupped her cheek.

Mattheo pulled her up from her chair, holding her gently, leaning in until their lips smashed together. Everything changed in that moment, there was no more darkness, it was colourful. The two felt their souls had finally come together, accepting that their meant for each other.

She pulled away from his touch, quick to question what was going on. That’s when he confessed to not only her, but the whole of Hogwarts too. “Y/n, I’m so in love with you.” He told her, holding her so tightly, too afraid to let go.

The girl giggled before him, making his heart do a backflip.

A/N; this is my first fluff, no hate pls 😂😂 also, i haven’t gone over it bc I’m too lazy n half asleep so, ignore any spelling mistakes! thank you for all the support, i love you all.

ps: i need smut ideas, send them thru xoxoxo

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aemondavenue · 11 months

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desolate: part ii {aemond targaryen x reader}

word count: 2.6k

parts: one | two

warnings: 18+. smut. angst. proceed with caution.

note: all grammar mistakes are my own. this is a part 2, but will not be too confusing if you haven't read part 1. thank you for reading <3

Aemond blinked awake as the morning sun peeked through the curtains of his chambers. His sleep was usually short and interrupted as his constant edge made him easy to wake. Not last night, though, with you beside him. Within himself he couldn't make out why.

He thought about the last time he slept in the company of someone else, a woman. He cringed into himself when he realized it was his mother. The time was years ago. He was a smaller, younger. He had a spell of nerve pain during dinner and fled to his room. Alicent followed not far behind him. Where he would usually slam the door shut and lock it behind him, he neglected to then. With his hand cradling the left side of his face, he begged her, yelled at her, to leave. He was glad that she didn’t. She drew shapes on his palm until he fell asleep. He woke up to her still in his room asleep in the chair beside his bed. He apologized to her that morning. She told him not to, not for that.

He shook the thought out of his head and instead focused on how he couldn’t witness the sunrise this morning as he usually did. He slept for longer than usual. He turned his head down to finally look at you bundled beside him, back still to his chest.

Your words from last night racked through his mind as he studied the side of your face. He thought about the reasons why you would want more attention from him. He didn’t think himself good company to keep, not good enough for someone like you. Yet, here you were.

Shortly after his waking, you awoke as well. Still admiring you, he saw you begin to stir in your sleep. Shit.

When he saw your eyes begin to flutter open, he instinctively pretended to be sleeping again and then slowly blinked and opened his eye as if he were waking with you. You shift beside him and he sees you looking up at him.

“You stayed,” you smile lightly.

“Yes,” he responds, “However, Criston is expecting me in the training yard.”

Your face falls.

“Uh- but I’m sure he can wait,” he sputters trying to fix his misspeaking.

You roll your eyes and push his arm off of you.

“You have not one romantic bone in your body, husband,” you lift yourself from the bed and stand up, “don’t let me stop you from going about your day.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Stay with me.”

“Well, I have plans with Helaena, so it seems we’re both busy,” you move to the window to open his curtains. He uses his hand to shield his eye from the brightness.

“I can cancel on him and I’ll clear my meetings for the day,” he says to you.

“Very sweet, but no need as I will not be canceling my plans for you, husband,” you respond as you begin to make your way to the door.

“Will you be back here tonight?” he calls out behind you.

“We’ll see,” you respond with your back to him as you exit the room, the door closing behind you.

The only semblance left of you was your scent in his sheets.

── •

Later that night on his way back to his chambers, Aemond stops himself from the urge to go to your room and ask you to sleep with him again that night. He did not want to rush you. He moves on his path to his own room.

Once he enters, he is surprised to see you on his bed.

He stops in his tracks.

“Should I see myself out?” you tilt your head at him with a glint in your eyes.

“Of course not,” he responds and you notice his eye raking your body. You were wearing a white linen night gown tonight. Lace detailing decorated your neck line.

He moves to undress himself and get ready for bed.

“I can help you,” you jump up from the bed and approach him. You push his own hands away from his belt buckle and unclamp it for him. You focus on the individual notches on his tunic as he looks at you. Once you notice his gaze, you hold yours with his.

“Are you doing this because you want to fuck?” he chimes.

“You can interpret this however you want, husband-“

Without hesitation, he grabbed your waist, turned you around, and bent you over the bed so your stomach hit the mattress. You could feel him lift your gown until-

“Wait! Hold on!” you chime in, pushing yourself from the bed and turning to him, “be gentle at first!”

“Why? That is not effective.”

“Yes it is! It is about feeling everything.”

“I’m not good at gentle.”

“I could teach you.” you huff out of breath.

“And where did you learn about gentle sex?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Where did you learn about sex in general, husband?”

His face falls for a moment, “This isn’t about me.”

“But I-”

“Tell me how you want me to make love to you as you say.”

“... Well, I do enjoy reading.”

“You do.”

“I have read in the novels that we have the option to undress each other first,” your eyes avert away towards the conclusion of your sentence.

“Oh. Are those the kinds of texts you've been reading all this time?” there was amusement in his expression now.

“Wha- No!”

He throws his now unbuckled tunic to the nearest chair and begins fumbling your gown, “I am not judging you. Arms up,” You did as you were told and he pulls your gown over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.

“Okay,” you move to grab his hand and pull him to the bed, you both sit on the edge of it.

“This is the part where … you kiss me and touch me softly,” you then closed your eyes and waited intently for him to make the next move.

He nodded, though, you couldn’t see him. A small smile crept on his face. He didn’t know what part of you to take in first: the silliness of the sight of you waiting for him with puckered lips or the hardness of your exposed nipples. He licked his lower lip in anticipation.

His hand reached to turn your face towards him, press your mouth in a kiss. Then your a kiss to your chin. Then your neck. Then your collar bone. He pulled away for a moment to meet your eyes with his.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered.

He pulled you in for a harder kiss this time before guiding you further onto the mattress and positioning himself between your legs. He continued his trek of planting kisses all across your chest. The feel of his lips in tandem with his breath on your torso made you shudder.

His mouth moves to your breast and pauses there before suckling on the flesh, then on your nipple. You gasp at the sensitivity. For a moment he stays there and then shifts to give attention to your other breast. You reach your hand to run your fingers through his silver mane. You couldn’t tell who was more pleased in that moment: you or him. You smiled as a content hum escaped his lip. Undoubtedly, it was him.

You could feel his hands pull at the hem of your underwear. He only unlatched from your chest as way to better free you from your garments. He threw them out of view. You saw him sit for a moment to take in the view of you. He caught sight of your glistening center.

“Look how ready you are for me,” he says under his breathe.

You nod.

“Tell what they do next in those stories your read, my eager girl,” he teases.

You nudge him with the side of your foot and he laughs.

“Do you touch yourself while reading these novels, eager girl? Who do you imagine in place of your hands?” he says as he drags both palms along your inner thighs.

“Please,” you manage to say.

“Please what?”

“Touch me more.”

“Where?” he tilts his head.

“You know where,” you urge him.

“I’m afraid I don’t-“

You grab his hand from your though move it closer to your center.

“Ohhh, you mean here,” he taps your aching cunt and you hiss.

His traces his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness along with it. He pulls his fingers away to examine the dampness you’ve left on his fingers. Your jaw drops slightly as you watch him bring them to his mouth, licking them clean. He hums at the flavor.

You watch as he adjusts himself onto his stomach and leans his head onto your inner thigh. Then he looks at you.

“May I taste you?” he says.

Mouth still partially hung open you respond with a breathless, “Yes.”

He proceeds with a long drag of his tongue across your cunt. He collects the wetness at your opening and gathers it to your clit. He rotates between swirling his tongue and suckling on the bud, eliciting moans from you pouting mouth. You grab at the sheets beneath you.

His tongues coaxes whimpers to escape your mouth as he continues his attack on your clit. Periodically moving back to your core to collect the nectar he has extracted out of you. He treated it as his prize. His reward for making you feel so good. You would blush at the joy he is deriving from this act if you weren’t so lost in the bounds of your own pleasure. Your clawing at the sheets and bucking hips into his face only came to him as greater signs to keep going.

He groaned into your cunt. He basked feel of your fingers entangling in his hair, tugging at his tresses whenever his nose bumped your bundle of nerves in that perfect way. He ignored the painful throb of his cock and bucked hip hips to relieve the pressure.

“I love making you feel good, my love, give it to me please,” he briefly pulled away before continuing to coax your peek out of you.

His tongue continued to lap at your cunt. He was diligent. Desperate for you to finish on his face. You barely heard his encouragements as your head rolled back deep into the pillow. Your back arched offed the bed as your legs flailed beside the sides of his head, overwhelmed with pleasure. He kept you pinned to that position for him as that rush of heat surged from your center and the through your whole body. Culminating, in a moan from you that echoed off the back wall of his chamber.

He pulled away, lips puffy and eyes glazed over. He sat back up on his legs and looks down at the now prominent outline in his pants. He looks at you still in recovery from your orgasm and reckons you’ve had enough. He begins to crawl to lay beside you.

“You’re done?” you pout at him.

“I reckon that you are finished, my love,” he smiles at you.

“I’m not not without you. I want you to finish too.”

“You think you can take me now?” he questions.

“Yes I can,” you nod at him and try to look more composed.

He finally removes the rest of his garments. You try not to react as he releases himself from his trousers. This wasn’t his first time revealing himself to you, but you still found it awe inducing how he managed to fit you.

He adjusted himself between your legs. He grabbed ahold of himself and teased his cock at your entrance. You were still sensitive from the work from his mouth. He dragged himself along your slit until eventually sliding himself in. Both of your jaws dropped in unison.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “so ready for me.”

His pace starts with a slow rhythm. With hooded eyes he makes sure you’re adjusting to him nicely. He revels in every single sound his thrusts elicit from your lips. You pull him in to kiss you, muffling your own moans with his mouth. He feeds on them. The pace was torturous for him, but you were right, he somehow felt more of you this way.

Aemond moved his hand to massage the meat of your thigh. Then lifting it over his shoulder for a deeper penetration. You gasped at the fuller feeling. Your pleasure drowned out the tinges of pain that came from the new angle. You clawed at his back in desperation. The feel of your nails digging into his skin prompted his thrusts to become more harsh. He groaned in your ear, you knew for sure he wanted to go faster.

“You can give me more. I’ll take anything you give me,” you whimpered in his ear.

He wasted no time. His thrusts became sharp and unrelenting. His hips colliding with yours at a rapid velocity. Again and again sheathed himself deeply inside you. His pelvis bumping against your already swollen clit. Your moans drowned out his occasional grunts into your neck.

He then sat straight up making sure to keep his cock buried inside you. He gripped your hips and moved them in tandem with his thrusts. His groans became less strangled and more desperate you knew he was chasing his own orgasm. You didn’t think you could meet him there, some how he knew.

“Need you to hold on for me, Issa jorrāelagon.”

“I can’t it’s too much, not again,” you protested, but you didn’t want him to stop.

“On my cock this time, please? For me?” he begged.

His thrusts in this position persistently hit that same spot inside you. He moved his hand to where his pelvis met your clit and began to work at your nub with his thumb. You knew you weren’t gonna last for him as your legs began to shake beside him. He gripped your waist harder with his other hand and you could feel him losing his rhythm, but his strokes became more cruel.

Your weeps halted as your breath caught in your throat. Your climax overtook you violently. You shoved his hand away from your clit. Your pleasure was harrowing. Your mind couldn’t take it, but your body betrayed you.

He rode out your orgasm in a chase with his own. His groans became more shallow. His hips were ruthless and his mouth hung agape. You both yelped in sync as he came so hard you saw white. HIs final thrusts, as he now held himself above you, were sloppy. He was ensuring you were taking all the seed he had to offer you.

He then collapsed onto your chest, cock still sheathed inside of you.

“You think a baby will lay this time?” you chimed.

You felt his cock twitch inside you at your words.

“Don’t go getting me worked up again, wife,” he voices, “but yes, I think it will and if not we will try and try again,” you could feel him grin against you.

You giggle and run your palm over his back. He eventually releases himself from you, but continues to lay his head on your chest. You two stay like this for a while before he interrupts the silence.

“I’d like to be in your company more from now on if you wouldn’t mind,” he mentions.

“I’ll allow it,” you say and he laughs at your response.

He laid like that with his head resting on your chest for the rest of the night. You would fall asleep before him and he followed soon after content with the sound of your beating heart coaxing him to sleep.

── •

tag list: @castellomargot @svtansdaddyx @brie-annwyl

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen imagine

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mydear-corinthian · 1 month

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Dirty Little Thoughts || Michael Gray

Synopsis: You and Michael can't control thinking about all the dirtiest thoughts you can think of each other. Pairing: Michael Gray x reader Warnings: SMUT (18+), dirty talk, breeding kink, p in v Notes: Rushed, not proofread, there will be grammatical errors. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

SMUT AHEAD

Your marriage to Michael Gray was the riskiest thing you had ever done. You understood how filthy, frightening, and menacing the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders were because you were born and raised in Birmingham. Michael appears to be a browbeat, tough, or frightening, and he is, but only when it comes to business. He was the complete opposite of himself. He was the nicest husband you could have, kind and caring..

You noticed that it was almost 6:00 PM when you looked at the clock. Since the party begins at 7:00, you still have time to get ready. It didn't take long for your blue silk dress to slip on. The dress flawlessly follows your curves. Shortly after, you arranged your hair and applied three quick strokes of the perfume Michael had given you while he was traveling in the US. Your lips were painted crimson lipstick, and your ears were adorned with gold earrings.

While touching up, Michael opened the door. He was already prepared. He was wearing his suit with his dark blue vest. His hair was styled the usual yet he looked even hotter. "You ready, love?" he asked. Grabbing your hips with his palms, making you close to him. His face brightened as he breathed in your perfume's fragrance. He wrapped his arms around your back and kissed your neck carefully, all the way up to your collarbone. You said with a low laugh, "Yes, I am."

Your body twisted so that you were facing him. His neck was found by your hands. You put your arms up against it and brought your lips together. The kiss was gentle, soft, and passionate until the kiss went deeper, steamy, and messy.

"My beautiful beautiful beautiful wife," Michael said in the middle of the kiss, his arm gripping your hips tighter.

Both of you craved for more, more than this but both of you knew you still needed to do something. You let go of the kiss. Both of you breathing heavily, trying to catch your breaths from the quick make-out session. "You look good but I prefer you taking it off." Chuckling, you said, "Mhm, but we still have a party to attend. We don't want to be late, do we?"

"Alright then. Let's go, love."

You both arrived on time for the party. Everyone was already at the venue, waiting for the party to start. The family was complete and Charlie's friends from school were there too. Polly noticed you and Michael arriving. She drew a breath from her long, black cigarette, closed it between her fingers, and released the toxic smoke. Polly approached you and greeted you both.

"Mum." Michael greeted, giving both of her cheeks a kiss. "Mrs. Gray." you shook her hands before giving her a short warm hug which thankfully, she accepted.

"Make yourselves comfortable. I'll just call Tommy," she said. Polly gave you both a smile before leaving the two of you alone.

A waiter bringing a full tray of champagne passed by and offered you both a drink. You took two glasses, giving one to Michael and one to yourself. You took a sip of your champagne and looked around. You were startled when you heard Michael mutter something to you while you felt a hot breath on the side of your neck.

"God, (y/n). I just want to fuck you already."

You nearly spitted your drink out of embarrassment. But you also wish you could do the same to Michael. It didn't help at all that your mind was racing with images of Michael taking you, praising you, and fucking you. You want to taste him right now, you want to kiss him on the spot.

You had a deep desire for him,

you can't control it anymore.

"Michael .. I can't take it anymore.." you begged. Your eyes pleading, your hands roam around his chest, caressing it with your fingers. He whispered again in your ear, "Let's go. I know a room." He took your arm and dragged you to the second floor of the house. Tommy's house was not a joke- it was big. You felt like there were thousands of rooms inside the house. Michael noticed there weren't any guests or family members on the second floor, making him drag you and open a door on the last room of the floor.

Once the both of you entered the room, he locked it immediately. He grabbed your face harshly, his lips meeting yours. You stumbled back until you felt the wall on your back. You grabbed his hair, crumpling it. The kiss was messy, fast, and hungry. Both of you want and are so eager for each other's taste. You felt pleasured but you were still craving for more. You want to take him. Claim him. Make you his. "More Michael, please," you pleaded. "You're lucky I want more too."

Michael carried you in bridal style before placing you gently on the bed. The making-out continued even on the bed. "You won't be needing this." he removes your blue gown quickly, leaving you in your undergarments. His lips went lower and lower with every kiss. His lips found your neck, kissing and sucking it harshly, enough to mark you.

You arched your back in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. Your hands gripped his hair tighter. He continued kissing you until he was kissing your inner thigh. Your slick found his finger, rubbing his finger into yours slowly, feeling how wet you were down there. "Very wet for me, huh?" he commented. You gasped, "Michael, please .. I need you," His hand unbuckled his leather belt and removed his trousers, tossing it on the floor. The huge bulge can be seen from his undergarment. He, then, removes his undergarment, leaving him with nothing on but his top. Michael aligned his shaft to your entrance, giving it a nice brush before pushing himself inside you.

He was massive. Your walls were stretching on the size of his shaft. You moaned out loud and he immediately covered your mouth with his palm, shushing you. He pulled out slowly before pushing back in again. This pace remained for a few thrusts before his pace became faster and faster.

"Oh god!" you moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets, curling them with your fingers.

The pleasure was immeasurable. His cock was driving you insane. Your eyes rolled in pleasure, arching your back.

"What a good girl. Taking my cock so well." Michael praised. His hands grab both of your arms and place in above you. Your arms were locked by his hand. You felt nothing but ecstasy. Your breasts bounce with every thrust he makes. Your mouth lets out a series of nasty moans. His cock hitting every spot there was inside you.

"D-don't stop!"

His pace fastened and fastened. Feeling a knot in your stomach, you knew you were close. Your walls clenched his huge shaft. He knew you were close. "I'm so - so close, Michael. 'Gonna cum," He didn't stop, he just kept on going. Abusing your pussy with his dick. His cock twitched inside of you, he was close too.

"Take all of it, love. Take me," he said in between thrusts. He let out groans and moans. His head rolled backward. Your grip on the sheets was so tight, that the bedsheet crumpled. You finally came, moaning his name out loud. A few more sloppy thrusts were made before he came inside of you. His body collapsed on top of you, he was still inside you. You felt his hot liquid inside you.

After a few seconds, he pulled out. His cum dripped inside your hole.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Michael."

You looked at the clock, it was 5 minutes before 6:00 PM. "Oh shit. The party's going to start." The both of you quickly wore your clothes again, fixing the bed right away before leaving the room. Polly noticed you and Michael going down the stairs. She curiously asked what happened and you just replied, "I was just having very serious period cramps, Polly. No need to worry."

THE END

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #michael gray #michael gray x reader #x reader #peaky blinder x reader #finn cole #thomas shelby #michael gray smut

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wwr-afterdark · 11 months

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Lightning struck outside the large windows, illuminating the figure outside briefly. A man, disheveled and dirty, stood outside the pristine little house. He hoped he wouldn't make too bad a mess! Oh, his darling would be so cross with him then. The man stumbled to the door, stepping inside with a shuffle and a happy hum.

"Darling? I'm home!" He loudly called out, but the house stayed quiet. A light in the kitchen drew him there, now what would they be doing in there so late? "Going for a late night snack, dearest? I know you do love your sweets." A loud clap of thunder shook the house just as he heard their quiet gasp. Oh, had they hoped to keep it a secret? Silly him!

With a muddy squelch he moved toward the kitchen entrance, smiling wide when he saw them. They looked different-or did they? It was all so hard to remember. He’d been gone so long, after all. Poor dear must have been so lonely. Even now they look gaunt, haunted even!

“My dearest, how I’ve missed you!” He made a move to step forward and nearly collapsed as his back made an uncomfortable pop! He laughed it off, despite the grimace that crossed their face. “Oh dear, it seems I’m still a little stiff. No matter, it’s nothing a hug from my adorable darling won’t fix!” He wasn’t deterred when they backed away, choosing to move and close the gap between them instead.

His lovely, playful spouse then decided to run, dodging around the kitchen counters to rush past him. They didn’t make it far, however, as he moved quicker than they expected to grab their arm. With a few sickening pops and clicks, his once stiff arms pulled them into a tight hug.

“Now, now, dearest,” he cooed as they struggled. “Calm yourself, it’s only your husband! You act as if I’m a stranger.”

His name is Fletcher Valentine, goes by Fletch (Flesh)

Loves you dearly, you are his spouse after all! Appears when you take in a strange antique ring. Shows up at night, dragging his creaking body into your home and begging for your kiss.

Should you not kiss him before he fully decomposes, he’ll disappear and return the next night until you get rid of the ring.

If you do kiss him, he will reform to a stable state-essentially living as a zombie or vampire without the need to feed. He will not leave your side.

He’s a loving husband! Whatever you want, it’s yours. Unless it’s prolonged alone time.

He is aware that he’s dead, but not that his former wife is. He believes wholeheartedly that the one with the ring has always been his spouse.

His former wife killed him for the money, but she strangely disappeared shortly after his death. His attendant took care of his estate, and his descendants continue to aid their lovesick master.

#yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #my art #walf writes #ft fletch #pose practice with walf

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optimizche · 2 years

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Missing (Part 7) [Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon]

Warning: Smut, fluff, angst.

Even though it snowed outside, you felt like you were being burned from the inside out. Heat smouldered through you, torturously curling into your belly, drawing out pained and desperate moans from you. Fingers trembling, they caressed the scalp of the dark haired Prince who was kneeling before you, his face buried, almost reverently, into the space between your legs.

"Jace, please…" You moaned, wanting to squirm away from his relentless ministrations yet unable to do so as he held your hips down with surprising strength. He licked into you, groaning appreciatively at the taste of your arousal, ensuring he drank every drop he was able to coax out of you. It colored your cheeks an alluring rose, the way your cunt wept so copiously for him.

Shuddering into the thin and worn mattress under you, your back arched as you climbed the peak he had already brought you to twice.

"It's alright, my darling," he murmured against you between gasps. "Let go for me, I'll catch you…"

Tears sprang into your eyes at the strain of trying to remain quiet, turning your head and pressing your mouth into the mattress to muffle your moans. It felt dizzying, the pleasure swelling so rapidly inside you that you felt like you were going to break into pieces.

"Jace, oh my…"

Even in the midst of this feverish storm, you felt the Prince gently pulling your hands away from his hair, lacing his fingers through yours and holding your hands down upon the bed. Keeping you grounded to him even as you shattered with a sob.

He led you through the blinding ecstasy, his hands never leaving yours, pinning them to the bed, even as he continued to work his mouth against you in kitten licks. Trying to prolong the euphoria.

Once you returned to him with a quiet whimper, you tugged at his hands with whatever strength remained in you, silently begging him to become one with you.

He climbed the length of your body with a path of kisses strewn across your bare, flushed skin until he was looking into your eyes with a warmth that drew your breath away.

Had I always been so blind to his love for me, you wondered, running your thumb across his lip to wipe away the traces of your wetness.

At your touch, Jacaerys closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if he were steadying himself.

"I know that you will never be able to love me the way you loved him," he said, pressing his lips into your palm. "But if I continue to keep denying myself from giving in to what you awaken in me, I'll die."

"Shhh…" you hushed him with a kiss, struck by his tenderness and care. "I need you, Jace. Inside me, please."

Feeling him slip into you, inch after glorious inch, felt indescribable. The two of you forcing yourselves to keep your eyes open and on each other. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, drawing him all the way in with just a twinge of pain as he breached past your barrier. Your maidenhead.

Tears flooded into your eyes at the sensation of fullness, at how you felt like you were being split into two in the most exquisite way.

He stilled almost immediately, sensing the tension in your muscles. Bringing his forehead against yours, he urged you to breathe with him, hands running through your now undone hair.

"Gods, you feel like a dream, my darling…" he said, mesmerized.

It enthralled you, the rush of heat that seared through you when he gently withdrew before surging back in. It made you break contact with his intent gaze, the pleasure forcing you to cave in. Head falling back against the thin pillow beneath you, your eyes fluttered shut and you felt him bury his face into the curve of your neck as he found his rhythm.

Sedate and languid, he kept going, mumbling words of adoration and praise into your ear. Telling you how much he wanted you, wanted this. How much he loved you…

In the midst of it all, you wished to tell him that you loved him too, but it felt like something was weighing down your tongue, constricting around your throat. Reducing you to quiet moans and faint gasps. Running your hands across his shoulders and through his hair, you held him against you, your own hips rising to meet his thrusts. Chasing the intoxicating ecstasy.

"J-Jacaerys… I…"

"I know," he responded, his voice a gentle lullaby. "I know, sweetness."

It went on, for minutes or hours, you could not tell, your bodies intertwining ever so intimately and familiarly that you were left wondering of the depths of his yearning for you. It overwhelmed you, the way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he worshipped you, the way he always knew what you needed, that you fell into a trance. Feeling your entire being become consumed by fire. For once, you truly understood how glorious it felt to be desired by someone.

Toes curling into the sheets, you arched against him, approaching the last crescendo with startling rapidity. He throbbed within your aching walls, now pushing into you with a breathtaking sense of urgency and want. Arrested and crazed by the desires he had evoked in you, you begged him to just let you come.

"Gods be good, where…?" he asked, rising from your neck, sounding just as wrecked as you were.

"Inside me. I want to feel you…" you sighed.

You broke against him first, nails digging into the sinew of his arms, drawing him to his own completion mere moments after, moaning into his ear at the sensation of him spilling over and over into your velvety walls.

After, you lay against him, your bodies covered by his cloak to shield you from the cold.

You looked at him with glazed eyes, swollen lips parted as you tried to regain your breath, fingers tracing aimlessly along his arms, revelling in his warmth.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his hand gently combing through your hair, sweeping it away from your face. "I'd kill for you, my darling. I'd die for you."

"Jacaerys…"

"When we win back the Iron Throne, I want you to be by my side when it passes to me in time," he said.

"I will be by your side, Jace…"

"…as my Queen Consort," he finished and the weight of the true meaning of his words took a moment to sink in.

Eyes wide, you placed your fingers upon his lips, shaking your head. "I couldn't possibly- You have no idea what you speak of."

He grasped your wrist, pulling you closer to him. "I know what I am saying, what I am asking of you," he uttered, his voice so calm and tranquil against your ear that you wanted to melt into it. "I am aware that he still lingers in your heart. Even if you do regret this in the morning and never want to look upon me again, all I want you to know that I will never hurt you like he did. I would rather die than forsake you. Just, promise me... You'll consider it."

"I promise, Jace," you said, pressing your lips to his shoulder, before leaning your head against it, wrapping your arms around him. "I just…" you trailed off and you knew that he understood you, like he always did.

I just need some time… To let go of him.

"Sleep now, my darling," he said, his chin brushing against your crown as he drew you into his embrace. "I'll wake you before dawn so that we can head back to the castle."

You hummed against his shoulder, sinking into a sleep so peaceful that you forgot to even dream, let alone stay awake and think about him…

For the first time in more than a decade, Aemond Targaryen felt the pain return. The searing agony he had felt at Driftmark, when the dagger's steel had forever stolen away half his sight.

Staggering, tears brimmed in his other eye, his knees buckling under the intensity of the pain he felt writhing around the sapphire in place of his eye. The leather of his eye patch felt suffocating and chafed against the smarting scar and the exiled Prince ripped it away. Cupping his lost eye in his palm, Aemond clenched down on his jaw to prevent himself from crying out from the phantom pain.

It was in that precise moment that he heard Helaena's voice scream at him:

The remedy is obscured in frost, enwreathed in darkened flames…

Seconds later, his mind deciphered the meaning of the words in startling succession.

Frost? Winterfell.

Darkened flames? Jacaerys Velaryon. A dark haired dragonrider.

The remedy? You…

Helaena's last words were leading him to you, he realized, bile rising in his throat.

"Help me, Gods…"

He felt a similar, rivalling agony burst through his chest, the sight of you intertwined with that bastard Strong playing repeatedly behind his closed eyes. His fingers twitched with the urge of wanting to grab his longsword and plunging it to the hilt inside that bastard's heart for touching you the way he had done.

How dare he… How could you…

Seven Hells, is this what you had been suffering from since he had left you for Vhagar at Driftmark? Is this the pain that you had endured for all these years in silence?

Was this the heartbreak that had made you turn against your childhood friend?

If that was the case, for just a brief moment, Aemond understood you. He understood what had motivated your hand to write those letters that had gotten him exiled.

If this was the pain you carried within you for years, the same pain that now made him want to burn the world to the ground, Aemond understood you.

He had come to Winterfell hoping to find you. Hoping to hear the confession from your lips, in your own voice. He had wanted you to admit that you had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

He hadn't wanted to hurt you, he hadn't wanted revenge for what you had done. He simply wanted you to confess the truth. He did not even expect an apology, for he himself had never apologized to you for what he had done.

Perhaps he had hoped that hearing you confess would have given him an odd sense of peace. A sense of closure. Helping him to move on with his life and leaving you alone to move on with yours.

But you had taken the knife you had already stabbed into him with those letters and cruelly twisted it into him, again and again, by allowing Jacaerys to…

Aemond shuddered and shivered under the sheer intensity of the pain that blistered through him. His emotions were a maelstrom of rage, agony and bitter jealousy. It spread like poison through his veins, piercing infinite needles into his heart. Now he was learning what you felt when you came to know the truth of his relationship with Helaena, the truth about Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It felt like every beat of his heart sent a roar of dragonfire coursing through him, leaving a trail of despair and destruction in its wake.

"Punish me," he wept, tears now flooding down his cheek, becoming one with the snow on the ground. "Gods, punish me for what I've done but don't… Don't…"

Don't take her away from me so cruelly. Don't let her move forward with that whelp when I need her so.

He cried and cried, the pain never subsiding. Only growing.

Growing with a series of recognition of all he had lost.

His eye.

His mother.

His sister.

His children.

His dragon.

But last and most important of all, he had lost you.

It crushed him, the cognizance of his biggest mistake.

A broken laugh burst through Aemond's pressed lips.

You foolish boy, he scolded himself. His younger self. Look at what you've done.

For what wrong had you done? Nothing. You had been the one to defend him against his brother's and nephews' cruel japes. You had protected him from his mother's scoldings when he snuck into the Dragonpit for the umpteenth time. You had been by his side, guiding him with a gentle patience through his studies, teaching him where he struggled with his lessons. And if, in your innocence, you had ended up losing your heart to him, he should have held onto it. Protected it and cherished it just as earnestly as you had protected and cherished him.

Instead he had spat on your feelings with his arrogance and greed for power. He had taken your heart and crushed it into splinters with his own hands. It was only fair that you decided to run away. It was his utter stupidity to assume, just like everyone else, that you were dead. He should've tried to look for you, he should've not let you go, he should've…

A maniacal laughing fit took over him in the midst of his agonized tears.

This is the pain she has lived through for all these years, you idiot, he chastised himself. And you are going mad within minutes of feeling it? Can you even blame her for doing what she did to you?

He laughed and cried, all at the same time. Crazed with the torment.

For the briefest moment, as he lay curled on the snow covered ground, Aemond saw a vision of you emerging from the cabin…

..you saw him lying on the ground, in pain and rushed toward him. Gathering him in your arms, you kissed him, healing the anguish he felt in his heart. Erasing the heartbreak. You asked him to take you away from this war, away from everything. You told him that it was him and only him you had ever loved. He took your hand in his and flew with you on the back of your dragon to King's Landing to free Vhagar. Once she was free, the two of you took to the skies, flying far beyond Westeros and even the Free Cities to make a life of your own. He took you to be his wife in the custom of Old Valyria and the two of you lived to have a family of your own. Maybe a son and a daughter each? And you watched each other grow old together…

His maddened laughing fit ceased as he found himself suddenly struggling to breathe under the strain he felt in his chest.

He had lost his last chance at happiness. He had lost his purpose.

And now he had nowhere to go.

Nothing to live for.

The remedy is obscured by frost, enwreathed in darkened flames.

The words echoed in his mind in an endless chant. Somehow, Helaena had known that you were in Winterfell, known that you were going to give yourself to Jacaerys. And she had warned Aemond of this, but for what?

To prevent his heartbreak?

To make things right with you?

To bring you back to him?

To bring you back to him…

You thought you heard someone laughing, the sound awakening you from your sleep with a start.

Emerging from your place of rest against Jace's shoulder, you looked up to find his eyes shut.

He was sleeping so soundly, his handsome face a picture of absolute calm. If your younger self had any inkling of how much he had loved you, your life would have turned out to be so different.

Instead of wasting all the time you had on dreaming of Aemond's affections, perhaps you would have had something real to hold on to. Jacaerys' love would have kept your heart whole, not broken right through the middle as it had now become.

You would be betrothed to the oldest son of Queen Rhaenyra, perhaps married with a child on the way even. That life would have been so beautiful and almost dreamlike.

But in a way, you were thankful for what you went through. It helped you the person you were today: a proficient healer, a dragonrider and someone highly trained in the arts of combat, governance and diplomacy.

Looking at the man who lay asleep beside you, you felt your heart soften. The perpetual pain that you woke up to when you ever did manage to get some sleep felt somewhat eased. For the first time in a long time, you felt a ray of hope.

Exactly like the early morning sun that was just beginning to creep up the horizon.

Fuck.

"Jace…" you kissed him, before whispering his name in his ear, trying to wake him up. "The castle, we need to-"

"Mmmh," he pouted, his arm wrapping around your waist just in time to stop you as you made an attempt to rise from the bed. "Let's stay here forever."

"Lord Stark's men must be looking for us!" you insisted and it was hearing this that finally made his eyes open.

He released you with a defeated sigh, watching you stand and walk over to where your clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

"You look so good bent over like that."

"Jacaerys!" you exclaimed at his ribald comment before being overtaken by a bout of laughter. "Get dressed, you insatiable beast!" you giggled, throwing his crumpled doublet at him.

"Fine," he finally acquiesed with a grin, devilry dancing in his eyes. "But after we get back to the castle…" he waggled his brows at you suggestively.

"And what excuse will we give the Starks?" you asked, attempting to lace up the back of your dress.

Jace watched you struggle, before rolling his eyes and walking over to help fasten your dress. "We'll say that you fell ill."

"And we left the castle because I fell ill?" you countered.

"If Lord Stark presses us with too many questions, I'm commanding Vermax to burn him down," he mumbled petulantly.

"Jace!"

"Okay, okay, I won't," he tittered.

Once you both were dressed and sufficiently presentable, you started your walk back to the castle, hand in hand.

It felt incredible, happiness, true happiness, slowly taking root in your barren heart as you saw dawn break across the sky.

However, just as the two of you neared the Winterfell castle, you felt the deafening screech from the skies. It was unmistakable.

A dragon.

You panicked, knowing that Vermax and Aquerion rested safely within the walls of Winterfell's castle, where you had left them.

Looking up, you could see in the early morning sky, an immense golden dragon soaring toward the castle.

Your astonishment came to a sudden halt as recognition came and you spoke in unison with Jace, just as he squeezed your hand.

"Sunfyre."

Author's note: Your comments, suggestions and reblogs make my day! I hope you liked this chapter and please stay tuned for more! ❤️

Part 8

#smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd #house of the dragon #angst #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x helaena #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys

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xieni-logs · 9 months

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hello!! could i request Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan and Gepard with a chronically ill s/o? just some fluff and comfort :)

thank you!! have a lovely day <3

HSR x chronically ill!Reader

includes: Blade, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng

a/n: hii!! I’m not sure what type of chronic illness you wanted the reader to have so each character has a different chronically ill reader, I hope that’s ok! blade's was kind of self-indulgent because i got arthritis (though no where as severe as the reader's is depicted) im so sorry if some of the illnesses arent 100% accurate word count: 1.4k (in total)

Blade x Reader with rheumatoid arthritis

: ̗̀➛ you were diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis in every joint in your body. this meant that the pain in your joints would only get worse with time. of course, you had your good and bad days. on good days, the pain was minimal, to the point you wouldn't feel a thing. but on bad days, the pain in your shoulders made it difficult to carry bags, lift things, and particular bad days made it near impossible to get even changed. somedays, the pain in your hips were uneven and made you limp. Blade didn't really understand it at first; you were fine one day and looked terrible the next. it took him a while but he eventually understood that your arthritis came and went.

: ̗̀➛ one particular bad day, you could only lay down, feeling uncomfortable in your own body, a constant spike of pain present. breathing felt difficult, and you felt yourself tearing up just trying to sit up. the minutes it takes to even sit up right felt more like hours. sometimes, the pain killers wouldn't work as they should, and unfortunately, this was one of those days.

: ̗̀➛ Blade enters your room and you quickly turn your head to face him, and immediately regret it due to the pain. he knows it's one of those bad days; your eyes watery, the awkward position you were sitting in, and the look on your face just begging him to make the pain go away. it's difficult for him to comfort you with words so he goes to get some heating pads, food for you to eat, etc... anything he can really. he'll hold you close, minimal movements, letting you lay on him. in the silence between you two, he can't help but wish that at the very least, you could achieve the eternal peace he was chasing after.

Gepard x Reader with asthma

: ̗̀➛ as the captain of the silvermane guards, he has to keep fit and he’d like you, his lover, to at least do some morning runs with him. he knows that you have asthma, but he didn’t think a morning brisk would do anything awful. as long as you managed your symptoms, it was all fine! there usually arent any problems either, to the point your inhaler was often forgotten at home during these runs.

: ̗̀➛ unfortunately, perhaps you were trying to go faster for Gepard knowing he usually slowed down for you or something but you were definitely pushing yourself more than you could handle. your breaths drew short, not enough oxygen getting to you leaving you lightheaded as you continued to run. Gepard ran a bit in front of you, or at least he did. you watched as the distance between you and him grew farther and farther, and your running got slower until it came to a halt. leaning against a wall, you tried to catch your breath but you honestly couldn’t tell if you were breathing at all. the pain coming from your chest felt like too much, you had a hard time pushing air in and out of your lungs.

: ̗̀➛ Gepard ran back, retracing his steps, when he saw you were no longer with him. he found you hunched over, leaning against a wall, looking like you were hyperventilating. rushing to your side, he quickly recognizes that you were having an asthma attack. scooping you into his arm, he quickly runs back to your home. he may look calm due to the fact he is able to hide his fears, he’s a captain after all, but he’s panicking on the inside. the way home is blurry; you aren’t focused on what’s happening around you, only feeling your chest going up and down yet it didn’t feel like you were breathing. it felt as if there was something blocking your airway, causing everything to feel sort of stuck. Gepard grabs your inhaler and shakes it, before giving it to you. the effects don’t happen immediately which worried Gepard, but you eventually were able to breath, at least a little. he takes you to a hospital to get checked up immediately after. it’s when you’re getting checked does the realization that he came so close to losing you sink in. Gepard is clingier the week after that; holding your hands more (even when he’s working), kissing you almost every chance he gets, holding you before bed, etc… he’ll never forget to bring your inhaler on your morning runs after that.

Jing Yuan x Reader with diabetes

: ̗̀➛ low blood sugar is more than being shaky; no matter how long you’ve been diabetic, you’ll never get used to the god awful feeling of dread that occurs. Jing Yuan cares about your health, and he’s got the books and notes to prove it. usually, diabetes doesn’t get in the way of your life besides watching what you eat, having to keep fit, but it’s manageable.

: ̗̀➛ certain occasions like today, unfortunately, you wake up to a shaky feeling crawling up your body. it was early morning, Jing Yuan slept looking peaceful by your side. you forced yourself up and reached over to the meter as quietly as you could. after loading the strip into the device, you pricked your finger- a feeling you will never like. the number 40 glowed on the screen, glaring at you. you knew you had to wake Jing Yuan up because you really didn’t think you could go anywhere feeling like this. you felt awful nudging him awake, interrupting his sleep. all you have to do is show Jing Yuan the 40 and he’s beelining to the kitchen for some juice. when you finish drinking the juice, Jing Yuan holds; your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you.

: ̗̀➛ your apologies to Jing Yuan for waking him fall to deaf ears as he’s rebutting everything you’re saying. many “nothing to be sorry about”s and “it’s not your fault”s could be heard. 15 minutes later, you prick your finger and show Jing Yuan a glowing 97. he goes to grab you a sandwich and after you finish eating, you two go back to bed. you lean on his shoulder, his hand cradling the side of your head, his chin laid on the top of your head, the two of you drift back to sleep holding each other.

Dan Heng x Reader with osteoporosis

: ̗̀➛ the path of the Trailblaze was not one without danger and Dan Heng was afraid you’d to be hurt in the crossfire though. you were diagnosed with osteopenia which eventually led to osteoporosis, which meant your bones were brittle. you hated it, this meant you were a liability to the astral express when trailblazing and often had to sit out during anything that had the slightest bit of danger. once, you asked if you could just have March’s shield on you at all times but even that proved ineffective in the long run.

: ̗̀➛ today, the astral express crew was visiting Herta for the Trailblazer to check out the simulated universe. Dan Heng quickly finished off the enemy before rushing to your side. it looked terrible, your arm was bent out of place and you couldn’t find it in yourself to say a thing. when you tried to move, a dreadful grinding sound occurred which made you nauseous. Dan Heng alerted the rest of the express crew before they all brought you to the medical department. thankfully, it wasn’t anything irreversible but throughout the treatment, you couldn’t help but feel like a big burden, getting hurt easily.

: ̗̀➛ once everything is fine and all you needed was time to heal, Dan Heng pulled you into a tight hug, whispering a few “thank god you’re fine”s and a “i was so worried.” usually you’d love his clingier side but it felt like pity. and god, it made you feel awful. no one else on the express would get hurt as easily as you. you push Dan Heng away, feeling terrible that you were such a burden, you quickly brief over how you feel. he grabs your wrist, looking you straight in your eyes, and loudly stated every reason you were not a burden because of your osteoporosis. from how you could take care of yourself to helping the express in ways non-physical like talking your way into less community service when the astral express crashed into a stadium. Dan Heng pulled you into a hug saying one last time, “you aren’t a burden.”

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64yrsold · 9 months

Text

ACHES 18. november

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (17)

I was always waiting, now. My phone was always nearby, in case he called. He’d always text me when he landed, just with the name of the city he was in, “Bucharest.”, “Paris (again).”, “Singapore.”. I’d look up the time distance between us, and predict when he would call. I lived by his schedule, now. It was only a half life, but better than a life without him.

It was around the time he usually called, and I was ready. I kept a bottle of his wine by the couch, sipping it as we talked, so that by the time we hung up, the edges of my vision would crawl inwards, and I would fall asleep on the couch. No missing him, no heartache or emptiness when his voice didn’t fill my head any longer. Just restless, ugly sleep, until I was too thirsty and sore to sleep any longer. I would dream we were together, his thumb in the middle of my lower lip, then wake up with a sob stuck in my throat. I’d skip my thumb over the stupid scar on my hip, reminding myself we were real. And we had been together before.

If I woke up in the morning, I made myself eggs with cherry tomatoes, and plain toast. I would sip my coffee and look out the window. If I woke up in the afternoon, I would sit on the balcony with a glass of water and sunbathe. I didn’t think about much when I woke up. I just felt the edges of the hole around my heart.

Then, I would take my walk. I’d see my mother briefly, and tell her about my dreams. Then I’d cut citrus with Jenna at the bar, and beg her to tell me about her shift the prior evening. The way she dryly recounted ridiculous stories made me shake with laughter, until she sent me home so she could open the bar. I’d get two coffees on the way home, and sit on the couch until he called. I’d toss his full, cold cup in the morning.

“Hi Matty,” I said, smiling into my fist. I curled into the phone at my ear, waiting for his usual response.

“Sweetheart,” he drew out the word in his sing-song smiling tone. It was a relief, a praise, a sigh. It was my name.

“Easy day?” I asked, as I always did.

“Very easy. Amazing, actually.” He laughed, “The crowd was nice. Enthusiastic.”

“Must feel nice. The attentiveness.” I sipped from my glass.

“Mm,” he hummed into his glass. “Sure.”

“Have I said how happy I am for you?”

“I know, darling.” Something rustled in the background. He was probably getting into bed. “And tell me about your day.”

“Not much to say,” I filled my glass. “Bit lonely today. But I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

“Three months I’ve been gone,” he whispered. “It’s alright to be lonely.”

“Yeah,” was all I managed. It was always hard not to cry when he was so sweet, and so far away.

“You want your surprise?”

I laughed, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’m surprised you haven't found it yet,” he coughed. “You were always so curious about my notebooks.”

I gasped, “What do you mean?”

“Did you go through them?” he asked, “I always assumed you looked through them when I showered.”

I paused, picking at my cuticles. “I wanted to.”

“Well, sweetheart, I’m going to bed a bit early. But check my bedside table.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, jittery with anticipation.

“Goodnight, darling. Love you, love you.” “Love you.”

And he was gone. I wasn’t even buzzed, so his absence spilled inkily from my chest to my hands. It was a rush of cold in a warm room. The steel wind after rain.

I got up, bumping my knee into the coffee table. My wine glass toppled over, shattering and bleeding over the hardwood floors. I cursed, but was too curious about his surprise to care.

I sat on his side of my bed, rubbing my knee. My fingers were still, waiting for permission to open his drawer. I closed my eyes, and pulled it open quickly. The only thing inside was his black Moleskine.

I took it out, running my fingers over the edges of the soft cover. The silky pages. I winced, realizing how much of him was this notebook. It was always with him. Seeing it made me crave his lips on my cheek. His fingerprints were still barely visible on the black cover.

I opened it. The first page was blank, but the next had three words, scrawled in his always-panicked, busy handwriting.

For you, sweetheart.

I dragged my fingers over the etched paper, and I could hear the scratch of his pen. I turned the page.

I met you. You kissed me. We are lonely.

I smirked, reminiscing about the blackout.

You’ve been in my head all day. You said so many honest, drunken words. About your parents, about your life. I can’t wait to meet you. The diamonds in the bracelet are real. I’m sorry I lied.

“Fuck you,” I laughed, glancing at the starry bracelet that was always on my wrist. I knew they were real. I flipped to the next page.

You’re so beautiful today. I’m obsessed with your voice, your humor. And you laugh so easily. I know it’s new, and I know it’s infatuation, but I can’t stop thinking about your mouth and my skin. I feel you all the time. I wonder what your apartment is like. I saw you watching me from the window.

I closed my eyes, tears wetting my cheeks. I couldn’t read this today. I quickly rifled through the pages, seeing how many he had written in. He had completely filled the notebook. Each page seemed to be a day. I shook my head, ready to put the notebook back in his drawer, when a small slip of paper slid out from the pages. I picked it up. The front of it read November, in his script. I turned it over.

When pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don’t worry, darling

I’m here with you.

-> next (19)

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #aches

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foxy-eva · 2 years

Text

Baby Fever

Summary: Ever since they decided to try for a baby, Spencer and his wife can’t get enough of each other

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Request by anon: Established Relationship, Having a Baby (Build-a-Blurb Celebration)

Content Warnings: (18+, Minors DNI!), trying for a baby, dom/sub undertones (Softdom!Spencer, Sub!Reader), breeding kink, praise kink, thigh grinding, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 1k

Masterlist

The tingling sensation inside your chest became almost unbearable as you were waiting for Spencer to get home from work. Impatiently you were pacing up and down the bedroom, excited to see your husband for the first time after six days apart. You assumed that he was aware that it wasn’t just your heart that longed for him but also your body, more than ready to finally have him near.

When you heard him coming through the front door and hurrying up the stairs, you let out a sigh of relief. He stepped through the bedroom door to find you in nothing but a set of lingerie. You stepped towards him to pull him into your arms.

“Finally! I couldn’t wait for you to come home,” you mumbled into the fabric of his clothes.

Your hands were quick to find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them as Spencer looked at you with a smug grin.

“I can see that,” he chuckled.

His hands found the bare skin of your waist, ghosting over your body that begged to be touched. He leaned down to kiss you and you didn’t waste any time to show him how much you wanted him. He smiled into the kiss at your eagerness and moved with you until he could gently push you onto the bed.

You lay down on the mattress, waiting for him to join you. He took his time to take off his clothes, his eyes roaming over your body while he licked his lips. Heat was rushing through you and you could already feel the lace of your panties getting damp.

Pressing your thighs together, you tried to soothe the pressure that was building up in your center, already burning for his touch. He noticed what you were doing and raised his eyebrows as a warning sign.

“Please,” you whispered as a reminder of how much you needed him.

“You look so pretty, all dressed up for me,” he cooed. “How could I ever say no to you?”

He joined you on the bed and let his hands wander over your body, exploring every curve and dip as if it was the first time. With his lips against yours, you melted into him while pressing your skin against his. He separated your legs with his thigh and pressed it against your core, a whimper escaping your throat at the sudden friction.

“Show me how much you want me,” he ordered.

He was looking at you with lust-filled eyes as you started to grind your center against his leg. Your hands found his shoulder to hold onto him as you steadily moved your hips until the pleasure became almost unbearable. There was no way for you to hold back the moans and sighs escaping your throat.

Right before you got too close to your breaking point, he kissed your cheek and shifted his position while purring, “That’s my good girl.”

Your heat ached for more friction but his praise made up for the loss of contact. He started kissing down your neck and reached behind your back to rid you of your bra. When he found your breasts, he nipped and licked the sensitive skin until you started to feel lightheaded.

He found his destination between your legs and started trailing kisses along the lace of your underwear. The fabric was soaked by your arousal and you were certain that he could taste you even with this barrier still in place. When he pushed it aside with two of his fingers, you started to get desperate to feel him inside you.

“Please, Spencer. I need you.”

“Can’t wait for me to fill you up, huh?” He chuckled before he let his fingers glide into you with ease.

His tongue drew circles over your most sensitive spot until your body started trembling under his touch. With a steady rhythm he pushed his digits into you but slowed down after a couple of moments to sit up between your legs.

His eyes found yours when he demanded, “Tell me what you want.”

With half-lidded eyes you looked at him, already lost in the pleasure, “Fuck me.”

He retracted his hand, denying you any contact despite your whimpers.

“Tell me what you really want.”

You hesitated to answer him, staring at him like a doe caught in headlights. Your cheeks were glowing while you contemplated your response.

“I want you to get me pregnant,” you finally answered.

“Yeah?” He groaned as he pulled your panties down. “I want that too. More than anything.”

As he leaned over you, you reached between your bodies to guide him into your waiting heat. With more force than you had anticipated he started thrusting into you, not wasting any more time to guide you both into a state of pure bliss. He tilted his head to look down to where your bodies were joined.

“Look how well you take me,” he groaned. “It’s as if your body was made for me.”

With your arms and legs around his body, you brought him impossibly close, letting him find his home inside your embrace. Your whole body clung onto him as if your life depended on it, your chests pressed together for your hearts to get in touch just like the rest of you did.

When he noticed the telltale signs of your impending climax, he found your lips in a hasty kiss as he guided you through your high. Your walls tightened as you pulsated around his hardness, pushing him over the edge together with you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as you felt him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your neck as he lazily kissed along your skin.

You hummed chipper before you purred, “I love you more.”

He lay down on the mattress beside you to let his palm glide over your stomach, whispering, “We’ll have a baby soon.”

The thought that you had the ability to create life with him was almost overwhelming. With a tremble in your voice you responded, “I can’t wait to carry your child.”

I wrote this as part of my Build-a-Blurb Celebration! Let me know what you think - Feedback helps me stay motivated to write more fics and your comments mean the world to me!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @delicatespencer @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @reidsmilf @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @airconsbeswag @conniesanchor @jordierama @reaux02

Join my taglist here

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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riddle-me-ri · 8 months

Note

Well, now I want to see the reaction of different versions of Johnny (Scarecrow) to the death of his S/O...

a/n: so the angst continues lol. I'm dealing with a lot of social anxiety that makes me wanna die so it just felt fitting to carry on lmao. The Mad Hatters are next 💙

Content Warning: death mentions, implied violence, and some blood/gore mentions, and heavy angst.

The Scarecrows React to Reader Dying in Their Arms

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

Jonathan has long thought to be void of emotions.

You being the only person that made him feel anything.

When your body fell, Jon’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

Despite his injured leg, he immediately falls to his knees to try and treat your wounds.

He’s panting, his heart pounding, as he shakes his head in disbelief.

Fear…fear overcame him like he’s never known…even more than when he faced his own near death.

Jon tried to stop the bleeding, tried to relieve your pain.

Fear…despair…guilt…

Jonathan went from being void of emotion to…suffocatingly overwhelmed with them.

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow:

Jonathan is in denial.

However, as he watched blood flow out from your wound, your body withering in pain.

Jon is dragged back to the harsh reality.

He attempts to calm you down, he understands it hurts, but you’re losing blood.

Jonathan barely makes out your faint voice telling him you love him.

He’s unsure how to respond as if reciprocating the sentiment will cement your fate.

Jon did tell you he loved you, but soon after begged you to hold on, and reassured you would be okay…

Even though he knew deep down it’s a lie.

BTAS Scarecrow:

No…no, no, no, NO!

Jonathan rushes to your air, the bullet still ringing in his ear.

He cried, screamed for help from anyone as he cradled you into his arms.

Jon removed his mask and tried to put pressure on the wound.

He shushed you as you began whimpering, he told you to try and relax and breathe. Help is on the way…

Jon continued to say reassuring things to you, but he can’t tell if it’s more for you or himself.

Jonathan was always scared it would come to this.

His worst nightmare…to lose you…became a reality.

TNBA Scarecrow:

Everything moved in slow motion.

The knife sheathed into your chest, you fell to your knees after the knife was roughly torn out of you.

Jonathan’s first thought is to douse the assailant with fear toxin–show them fear–

But he saw you quickly losing blood as your face grew pale and decided against it.

Jon’s mind began racing–no way to contact help, too far out to make it to a hospital.

He still wanted to refuse the inevitable, that you are dying.

For your last remaining moments, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible.

You slowly faded away to Jonathan telling you he loves you and that he’s gravely sorry.

Fear State Scarecrow:

You weren’t supposed to be there.

Jonathan was in the midst of his most potent toxin yet.

And you were hit head first with it when you walked in and he thought he had the door locked.

Jon tried to calm you down as your heart continued to pound–wanting to leap from your chest.

You were panting, choking on the very air you breathed, every breath turning into a scream–

Until your heart stopped altogether and the room got quiet.

Jonathan is shocked as you fall lifelessly into his arms.

Now it was his turn to live out his worst fear.

Year One Scarecrow:

Jonathan was panicking.

He fought between leaving you to get help or staying with you to tend to your wounds.

He decides to stay until he can get you stable enough to find help or find a way to call for help.

Jonathan doesn't want to admit it but the situation looks dire.

He tried to stay strong for you, not show any sign of weakness.

But there was no denying you were dying, it hurt even more to admit there was nothing he could do about it.

Jon refused to let you see him cry though. He continued to comfort you and reassured you until the end.

When your eyes closed and you drew your last breath was when he finally broke down.

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

As you tried to hold in your blood, you heard Jonathan’s mortified screams.

Jonathan held you bridal style in his lap as he tried to stop the bleeding and prop your head.

He steadily muttered the words "no, no, please…" and "please don't leave me…"

Jonathan looked around. For any signs of another figure.

For the time Batman stalked him, why couldn't it have been tonight?

Jonathan continued checking your pulse, his actions more frantic as your pulse got weaker.

It didn't take long for him to start sniffling despite how hard he tried to look strong for you.

He can't help but feel like he had this coming for a long time, he just wished it was him instead of you.

Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo Scarecrow:

Jonathan doesn't want to believe what he just saw.

But when you weakly croaked at his name and reached out for him–

Jonathan knew he had to stay with you, despite the instinct to run and get help.

His stern voice was laced with softness as he told you that you were okay and he was there and wasn't going to leave.

Jon tried to begin tending to your injuries as much as he could but you were fading fast.

He wasn't one to give up so easily, but he also knew the logistics that you weren't going to make it.

Jon kissed your temple and cheek as you slowly drew your last breath.

He just wanted to make sure you knew in the end how precious you were to him.

Harley Quinn:TAS Scarecrow:

Jonathan’s voice cracked as he cried out your name.

This-this wasn’t supposed to happen!

He doesn't even try to hide his horror as he drops to his knees beside you.

Jon is almost scared to touch or hold you, worried that he might hurt you more.

He choked on his own tears as he saw the color slowly drain from your face.

He does find the courage to gently prop you against his chest and rub your arm in a soothing motion.

Jon shook his head, verbally beating himself up over what happened.

Before Jon finally gave into his tears, you used the remainder of your energy to tell him you loved him and it wasn't his fault.

#ri writes #arkhamverse scarecrow x reader #nolanverse scarecrow x reader #murphy scarecrow x reader #btas scarecrow x reader #tnba scarecrow x reader #fear state scarecrow x reader #year one scarecrow x reader #masters of fear scarecrow x reader #happy halloween scooby-doo scarecrow x reader #hhsd scarecrow x reader #harley quinn the animated series scarecrow x reader #hqtas scarecrow x reader

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birdiewriteslit · 1 year

Note

i love everything you write so so much! 🫶💗would you consider writing more for warren? maybe a pt 2 to the engagement or honestly literally anything, i just love him but not a lot of people write for him LOL

yeah, i can totally do that! the lack of djats fanfics is criminal lol (also sorry it took a bit to respond. i’m still recovering and i had this queued to post yesterday and it just like didn’t?? so i’m begging with tumblr for that)

“summer wedding”

warren rhodes x fem!reader

part 2 to “engagement”

disclaimer last time i went to a wedding i was five years old so i’m making shit up also i don’t care if it doesn’t fit the show timeline bc i can’t be bothered to do research

kinda short and not proofread

You glanced anxiously out the open window. Gray clouds were beginning to fill the sky as the breeze picked up. You fidgeted with the ring on your finger while watching the waves become rougher.

“Would you sit still?” Camila said, trying to effectively braid your hair.

“Do you think it’s gonna rain?” You asked, still staring outside.

Camila turned her head to look at Karen for support, who sat on your bed. “Probably,” she said.

“Karen!” Camila scolded.

“What? I’m being honest.” She smoothed out her silk dress that matched Camila’s. “This is nice bedding, by the way. I really love what you’ve done with this place. Thank God he couldn’t convince you to live on that boat.”

You ended your staring contest with the ocean and met her eyes in the vanity mirror. “I compromised with a house on the water. It’s beautiful, but I am deathly afraid of hurricanes.”

“Well that’s unfortunate because it looks like one is upon us,” Karen said, reaching over to the nightstand for the champagne bottle. She refilled her glass and sipped it, looking smug.

“Are you drunk already?” Camila asked, a bit annoyed. “The wedding starts in an hour.”

“I sure hope not. You two are the only bridesmaids who are currently here. Not sure where Daisy is,” you said worriedly.

“She’ll show up later,” Camila assured, not sounding too confident herself. “And I’m not a bridesmaid, I’m the maid of honor.” She tied your hair off with a white ribbon and smiled proudly at you in the mirror.

Karen stood up from the bed and bent down to hug you from behind. She rested her head on your shoulder. “You look so beautiful, Y/n.”

You let a breathy laugh escape your lips as they drew into a wide smile. You brought your hand up to rest on her forearm. “Thank you, both of you. I’m so happy you’re here.” You felt your eyes well up unexpectedly.

Camila was quick to bring a tissue to your face. “Don’t go crying on us now,” she said, kneeling down to dab it under your eyes. “You know we’ll cry too.”

You laughed through your nose and smiled broadly. “I know.”

Karen pulled her arms away from your body to pat your shoulders. “Shall we get the dress?”

Camila nodded with excitement and rushed to the bathroom where your dress was hanging up. Karen followed close behind.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You sniffled and wiped your nose with the tissue Camila left in your hand. God, you were so emotional.

Three weeks ago, Warren was proposing to you on the beach, and now you were going to marry him in the same spot. It felt like a dream. None of this felt real, but all of it was happening.

Karen and Camila came back to the room, Karen holding the dress, and Camila holding onto Daisy’s arm.

“Daisy!” you exclaimed. “You’re here.” You stood from your seat and pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, I’m here. What? Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

You grimaced. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No, I really don’t.”

Karen laid the dress out on your bed. Camila took Daisy’s dress off of the hanger and left the room with the other two women, closing the door behind them.

You removed your clothes and slipped into your wedding dress. The sleeves were long and were draped off the shoulders. The flowing skirt billowed onto the floor.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. “Camila!” you called.

She came rushing in seconds later. “What? Is something wrong?” A hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God. It’s so perfect.”

She grabbed your hands and whirled you around so she could take in the dress. “You are the most beautiful bride,” she said after a moment of studying the white fabric.

Her bright smile matched your own as she said, “Let’s go get you hitched.”

——————

The ceremony was better than you could have imagined. It was small, with only immediate family and close friends attending.

Chairs were set up on the beach in front of your new house. It was windy, but the breeze wasn’t chilling. You were still a bit concerned about the possibility of rain.

The moment you saw Warren down that aisle all your worries floated away. He looked astonishing in that white suit. He grinned at you like he knew you were nervous. He was too, but there was no doubt in his mind he was making the right decision when he saw you in that dress.

You said “I do” on the same sand he asked you to marry him on. The priest barely finished pronouncing you husband and wife before Warren was kissing you with a ferocity that made your knees weak.

You were overwhelmed with happiness during the reception. You almost burst into tears when Eddie and Camila gave their speeches.

Everyone was dancing around your backyard under the soft light of the lanterns decorating the sky.

It was so beautiful. Everything was perfect, and you were beyond ready to start the rest of your life with your husband.

#birdiewriteslit #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones #daisy jones x reader #djats #warren rhodes #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones fanfic #dj&ts #warrenrojas #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes fanfiction #warren rojas #warrenrhodes #camila dunne #karen sirko

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darkwitch1999 · 3 months

Text

A Random Headcanon: Why Marc Anciel Should Never Have Coffee Part II☕🚫

The madness continues, everyone! Enjoy this wild ride!

Collège Françoise Dupont: Hallways

(Marc storms down the school hallways, narrowly avoiding crashing into bystanders or metal poles, and desperately trying to escape the red-haired artist that was on his tail.)

Nathaniel: (yells out) Marc Anciel, hand over that coffee this instant!

Marc: (hisses at the artist as he continues running) NO! IT’S MINE! I NEED IT!

Nathaniel: You don’t need any more coffee, Marc! You need sleep!

Marc: I’LL SLEEP WHEN I’M DEAD!!!

Nathaniel: Which will be soon if he keeps drinking that coffee like it’s water. Marc, please-...(Marc starts hissing at him again) Stop hissing at me already!

(Nathaniel kept running after Marc, who was surprisingly even faster than he usually was. It was no secret that Marc was already more athletically gifted with his feet than Nathaniel. Heck, Marc didn’t even need the caffeine adrenaline boost to outrun Nathaniel on any other day. However, Nathaniel knew that if he could somehow get the “jump on Marc”, he would have the advantage. Utilizing a quick rush of energy and pushing himself to run faster, Nathaniel was able to catch up to Marc enough to pounce on the writer and try to hold him down while reaching for the cup in his hand. The writer then begins to thrash and struggle wildly as he tries to escape the artist’s hold while keeping his coffee out of the redhead’s reach.)

Marc: GET OFF OF ME! LET GO OF ME! LET GO, NATH! (hisses)

Nathaniel: Okay, he’s seriously got to knock it off with the hissing. I’m sorry, Marc, but I’m doing this for your own good!

(Nathaniel struggles to keep his hold on his frantic partner. He had almost forgotten how it was last time to wrestle the coffee away from Marc. Marc wasn’t that much stronger than Nathaniel in terms of upper-body strength, but that adrenaline rush was making it difficult for Nathaniel to keep Marc pinned down long enough for him to snatch the coffee away from him. He was kind of hoping that the fact that he weighed slightly more than Marc would at least give him some advantage over the writer, but so far it was not working out the way he had hoped.)

Marc: (frantically begs) Nath, please! I swear, I’ll stop tomorrow! I won’t drink it anymore after today! Please, just let me have this today!

(Nathaniel then starts to gain the upper hand as he shifts his body weight forward to help pin down Marc’s upper body, including his free hand that was securely clutched around his coffee cup. Nathaniel begins reaching his hand closer and closer to the blue tumbler cup.)

Nathaniel: I don’t think so, Marc! You are going to stop right here and now!

(As Nathaniel’s hand drew closer to the forbidden drink, Marc’s mind began to frantically race with ideas of how he could possibly escape. Nathaniel’s arm was close enough that Marc could just bite it or bash his head against his chin, and then break free while his partner’s hold on him was weakened as he writhed in pain, but Marc detested the fact that idea would even cross his mind. Even in his erratic state, Marc would never want to try to hurt Nathaniel. He then thought about pretending that Nathaniel was hurting him too much, but he knew that plan wouldn’t have worked either. After all, he pulled that same trick on Nathaniel once before and the writer knew that Nathaniel wasn’t gullible enough to fall for the same trick twice. Time was running out and his options were limited. As Nathaniel’s fingers finally touched the cup, Marc decided to resort to the only trick that he could think of.)

Marc: (feigns shock and panic) OH SHIT! AN AKUMA!!!!

Nathaniel: (shocked) WHAT?!

(Nathaniel’s fingers came to a halt and he immediately started jerking his head around, looking for any dark, malicious butterflies. With his partner distracted and his hold on Marc weakened, the writer was able to turn the tables on the artist and throw him off of his body as he sprang up onto his feet. Without wasting any time for Nathaniel to recover from the shock, Marc immediately took off in the opposite direction. Nathaniel mentally cursed himself for falling for the writer’s trick.)

Nathaniel: Curse my paranoia of daily evil butterfly attacks!

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

Collège Françoise Dupont: Courtyard

(The comic book duo’s chase continued in the school’s courtyard. As Marc ran down the stairs with Nathaniel hot on his trail and yelling at the writer to stop, the students from both Miss. Bustier’s and Ms. Mendeleiev’s classes watched this scene in bewilderment. Many of them were confused and concerned as to why Nathaniel was chasing Marc around the school as well as why the writer’s appearance looked so disheveled.)

Nathaniel: (shouts to the others around him) STOP HIM! SOMEBODY GRAB HIM!

Marc: DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! EVERYTHING HE SAYS IS A LIE!

Chloé: (snickers to Sabrina) Trouble in paradise, I presume?

Marc: (flips the bird as he continues to avoid Nathaniel) Fuck you, Chloé, you “Walking One-Dimensional Possibly Bleach Blonde Regina George Stereotype”!

(Everyone in the courtyard gasped, not only shocked by the fact that Marc had just cussed but also by the devastating burn he just inflicted on Chloé. The blonde bitch would have retorted if she weren’t rendered speechless by the writer’s uncharacteristic roast or if the writer wasn’t running around in zigzags trying to avoid his partner. Deciding to get to the bottom of what was going on, Ivan got in the middle of the duo as he tried to help de-escalate the situation.)

Ivan: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa! Hey guys, what’s going on?

Nathaniel: (points his finger at Marc) Marc has coffee!

(Everyone’s attention immediately turned to Marc, his eyes frantically shifting all over the place as he tried to find an escape route.)

Marinette: Wait…What?!

Mirelle: Marc has coffee?!

Aurore: Oh no!

Jean: (rubs his arm nervously) Not again…

Alya: This is so not good…

Nino: Who gave Marc coffee?

(As many of the students started voicing their concerns, there were also a few students who voiced their confusion on this new revelation.)

Noelle: (flabbergasted) Wait, this is why “No Coffee for Marc”? I know he wasn’t allowed to have it, but this is why?!

Juleka (mumbles to Noelle) His moms won’t let him have any because the caffeine worsens his anxiety and gives him panic attacks.

Max: (whispers to Noelle) While Marc never consumes large quantities of caffeine regularly, he does have a small history of sneaking the beverage whenever he is faced with more work than he can handle and tries to do it all in one sitting. And well, let’s just say that Marc’s anxiety plus overwork stress multiplied by large consumption of caffeine tends to cause his behavior to become-...

Noelle: Batshit crazy?

Max: I was going to say “erratic”, but I suppose that is another way of putting it.

Zoé: (confused) Wait, so this has happened before?

Jean: (cringes as he starts backing away slowly) Oh yeah, you weren’t here that last time….(continues rubbing his arm).

Devin: (looks at Jean with a raised eyebrow) Why are backing away? Are you-...wait, are you seriously afraid right now? You’re scared of Ancie-....er I mean Marc?

Jean: Well of course I am! You didn’t see what happened last time, either! The last time Marc went crazy on caffeine and we tried to take the coffee away from him, he bit my arm!

Devin: (rolls his eyes in disbelief) You people are acting like fools. This is Marc we are talking about. Do you really expect me to believe he becomes this unstable whenever he drinks a little caffeine?

Nathaniel: (calls out) He’s had five cups of coffee!

(Many of the students gasped again, even Devin looked taken aback.)

Devin: Well, damn. Never mind then.

Rose: (shocked) Five cups of coffee?

Mylène: That can’t be good for his anxiety! He could be on the verge of a panic attack!

Kim: Wait, so that’s his fifth cup of coffee?!

Nathaniel: Sixth.

Marc: (starts fast-talking frantically) He’s lying, guys! Don’t believe him! C’mon, Nath doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s talking crazy! I swear, this isn’t coffee!

Nathaniel: (smirks) Swear on your little brother’s life?

Marc: (stomps his foot in frustration) Damn it, Nath! Stop bringing my family into this! That’s just low!

Nino: So that is coffee.

Marc: (pulls the cup closer to his chest protectively) Okay, yes! But it’s not mine, I swear! I’m just holding it for a friend!

Nathaniel: (raises an eyebrow) Oh really? (turns to the two classes in the courtyard) Anyone who asked Marc to hold onto their coffee for them, please raise your hand.

(As expected, no one from either of the two classes put their hand up. A few of them made comments confirming that they did not ask the writer to hold onto their coffee for them. All eyes fell onto Marc, who was becoming increasingly nervous and unraveled.)

Nathaniel: So, who’s lying now?

Marc: (starts backing up slowly) No! That’s not what I meant. I-I…I was talking about a different friend! Y-Yeah…that’s right! You guys don’t know them! T-They went to my old school and-...

Nathaniel: (crosses his arms) Okay, now we know that’s an obvious lie! We all know that you don’t have any friends who went to that school with you!

Noelle: (clears her throat) Ahem…

Nathaniel: I mean except for her, but my point still stands!

Adrien: (holds his hands up in a placating gesture as he takes a few slow steps towards Marc) Marc, please just let us help you.

Nino: Make this easier for yourself. Put down the coffee and kick it over to us.

Ivan: We don’t want you getting hurt, Marc. We just want to help you.

Marinette: Whatever it is that’s been stressing you out, I’m sure we can help you together if we just talk about it.

Mylène: Please, you need to calm down.

Marc: Calm down…calm down?! You’re saying that I need to calm down?! I’M COMPLETELY CALM!!!! (his hands start to anxiously dig at his hair) I’ve never felt more calm in my life! If anyone needs to calm down it's all of you people!

(Almost everyone took a step back after Marc’s outburst. They were hesitant as to what they should do next. They knew that in his caffeine-fueled state of mind, Marc wouldn’t listen to reason so easily. While they could have ganged up on him and pinned him down with their numbers advantage, many of them were hesitant to do so knowing from experience how viciously Marc fights back with the adrenaline boost in his system. Meanwhile, Marc was desperately trying to think of a plan to escape. The writer knew that if he made any attempt to run now, the others would give chase and most certainly catch up to him. He made that mistake the last time and was easily overpowered by the numbers advantage that his friends had over him despite his best efforts to fight back. Additionally, Marc also knew that attempting another akuma “fake-out” was out as well. Even if he might have been able to fool about half of his friends with the distraction, he knew that the other half wouldn’t be so easily fooled, especially Nathaniel who has already fallen for that trick once today. As Marc’s eyes searched frantically around the courtyard for an escape route and his mind raced to try to think of his next move, he failed to notice that Kim was sneaking up behind him. Before he even had a chance to realize it, Kim tackled Marc to the ground and snatched his cup out of his hand. Kim then quickly stood up off of Marc while he was still disoriented from being tackled to the ground. He didn’t want to risk a repeat of what happened last time with Jean.)

Kim: (throws the cup) Rose, catch!

(The sweet blonde in pink caught the cup in her arms. Her eyes blinked nervously from the uncertainty of what she should do next.)

Kim: (shouts to Rose) Rose, quickly! The bathroom!

(Kim motioned his hand in the direction of the nearest girls’ bathroom. Realization then struck Rose as she understood why Kim had thrown the cup at her. Rose was the closest towards the direction of the bathrooms and there was enough distance between her and Marc that she would be able to get a good head start. Additionally, if she sprinted to the girls' bathroom and reached it before Marc could catch up to her, she knew that Marc would never follow her inside the girls’ bathroom no matter how desperately he wanted his coffee back. However before Rose could take off, her attention immediately fell on Marc when she heard the sounds of the writer getting up on his feet. A look of panic grew on the boy’s face as his eyes fell on his coffee cup now in the hands of someone else. Rose felt a pang of guilt as she saw the panicked look on her friend’s face. She felt conflicted; she knew that the caffeinated beverage in her hands was causing him to suffer but she also knew how emotionally distressed the writer would become when she dumped his coffee. Unfortunately, her hesitation opened an opportunity for Marc to try to play on her sympathies.)

Marc: (puts on his best “innocent” smile and speaks frantically) H-Hey…Rose…l-let’s not do anything c-crazy here. C’mon, y-you don’t really want to do this…

(The hesitation on Rose’s face was projecting. The pain that shone through the emerald green eyes of the writer made the sweet blonde feel even more conflicted. Even though she knew that the right thing to do was to get rid of the coffee for Marc’s sake, she couldn’t stand to see her friend suffering emotionally.)

Marc: (gives Rose a pleading look) L-Look, Rose, please! I’m sorry about lying to you and everyone else earlier! I swear Rose, I’ll stop drinking coffee after today, and starting tomorrow I swear I’ll never even think about drinking coffee ever again! Please, just let me have that last cup of coffee. C’mon…what’s the harm in just one more cup anyway? I swear, I can handle it…please Rose….

Marinette: Don’t listen to him, Rose! We all know he’s just trying to bargain by making promises that he’ll never keep!

Ivan: Marc’s lying, Rose! He’s trying to deceive you!

Max: A 100% percent certainty!

Marc: (pleadingly looks at Rose) Rose…c’mon, it’s me! You know you can trust me…

Mylène: You’ve seen this with us before, Rose! Marc can’t be trusted in this state of mind!

Aurore: He’ll say anything to get what he wants!

Noelle: (exclaims in shock) Okay, seriously! How many times has this happened before?!

Jean: Not that many. Only a couple of times. (winces at the memories) But even that much is one too many.

(Rose was feeling so conflicted that it was becoming overwhelming. Marc was practically on his knees pleading his heart out for the sweet blonde to return his coffee while everyone else was urging for her to run away with the coffee and to ignore the desperate pleas of their writer friend. It was becoming too much to bear! She could feel the pressure crushing her! Rose had to make a decision! Straightening her posture and composure, Rose took a deep breath in and breathed out. The courtyard became eerily quiet as the crowd anxiously awaited the sweet blonde’s decision.)

Rose: (immediately sprints towards the girls’ bathroom) I’M SORRY, MARC!

Marc: (eyes filled with panic) What-...NO! ROSE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!! (Starts running after the sweet blonde)

Nino: (yells out) Somebody, grab him!

Kim: I’m on it!

(As Kim tries to grab a hold of Marc, the writer then turns to the muscular teen and hisses at him, shocking not only Kim but almost everyone else present in the courtyard. The writer used this opportunity of momentary confusion to escape the courtyard and run after Rose. Kim and many of the others stood flabbergasted in silence at what had just happened.)

Kim: (in shock) D-Did…Did Marc just hiss at me? You guys heard it too, right? It wasn’t just me?

Nathaniel: (nods in confirmation) Yeah, he’s been doing that to me too. I honestly don’t know why he keeps hissing at people.

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

Collège Françoise Dupont: Outside the Girls’ Bathroom

(At last after what felt like running a marathon, Rose had reached the safety of the girls’ bathroom. The forbidden zone for boys that even Marc wouldn’t dare to cross. She immediately opened the door and threw it closed just as Marc finally caught up to her. Marc sank to his knees in horror as the door slammed shut. His precious coffee was beyond his reach from this point and he couldn’t do anything to save it. He pounded on the door furiously as he pleaded with Rose to desperately appeal to her sympathy.)

Marc: (bangs on the door, his voice laced with panic and desperation) ROSE! ROSE, PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS! ROSE PLEASE! I NEED IT, ROSE! PLEASE!

(Marc began to hear the sounds of liquid being poured out as if Rose was pouring his coffee out in either the sink or the toilet. He was running out of time! Marc pounded on the door louder and his pleas became more desperate.)

Marc: (tears begin to fill his eyes and his voice starts to break) ROSE, PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I’LL DO YOUR ENGLISH HOMEWORK! I’LL GIVE YOU MY GLITTER EYESHADOW! YOU CAN HAVE ANY ONE OF MY PLUSHIES! YOU CAN HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO FROM ME! JUST PLEASE STOP!!!!! ROSE! I’M BEGGING YOU!!!!!

(As much as Marc’s pleas pained Rose to hear, they fell on deaf ears. The deed was done. And the sound of the toilet flushing immediately made Marc’s blood run cold. The writer fell into despair as he cried in agony as if the world around him was burning down around him.)

Marc: (wails in agony) NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! MY COOOOFFFFFFFEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

(Marc’s body slowly slid down the bathroom door as he broke down into tears. He curled himself into a sobbing, trembling ball. The trauma of losing his precious coffee replayed over and over in his mind. As the writer lay against the cold floor sobbing, he saw the familiar shoes of his partner standing in his sights. The distraught writer looked up to see the face of the redheaded artist, whose turquoise eyes were looking down at the writer. Nathaniel then began to sit down with his legs crisscrossed, his arms opened, and awaiting for Marc. Without any hesitation, Marc immediately embraced his partner, his sobs becoming increased and muffled as he burrowed his face into the artist’s shirt. Nathaniel then began to rub comforting circles on the writer’s back and speak comforting words.)

Nathaniel: (shushing as he rubs Marc’s back) Shh. Shh. Shh. Shhhh. I know Marc. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you all the help you’ll need and we’ll get through this together. Everything’s going to be okay now.

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

Well, there you have it. THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER GIVE MARC COFFEE!!!!

Also to clarify a few things:

This headcanon takes place when Monarch is active, so unfortunately Alix isn't around to help out with the "Marc Coffee" situation, which sucks for everyone else since she was MVP the last time they had to take the coffee away from Marc.

Noelle and Devin are my OCs for those of you who don't already know and they are part of my miraculous fanfiction universe. Noelle and Marc went to the same school together before they transferred at different points during the school year, and if you want to learn more about Noelle, I'll have the link to my fanfiction that provides insight into her backstory at the end of the post. Devin is more of a "standoffish" personality and while he's been attending Collège Françoise Dupont since the first year of junior high, he prefers to distance himself from literally everyone as much as possible and thus wouldn't know why Marc can't have coffee. He also has a habit of calling his fellow students by their last names, but I plan on that being a habit that he tries to break after the events of Icelator, which is why he corrected himself when he almost called Marc "Anciel". Another fun fact about this guy, he never called Jean Duparc by his last name and always refers to him by his first name for some "unknown reason". 😏

Well, that's just about all I have to say. If anyone wants me to clarify anything else or has any other questions, just write them in the comments or ask on my Tumblr page. With that being said, I'm out. 🚪

Link to my fanfic:

@artzychic27 @nerd-chocolate @andromeda612 @username8746489 @princessbutterflysposts @lady0lunamoon @imsparky2002

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my-writings-and-musings · 1 year

Note

I keep thinking about a human whose just very shy and nervous, rather reclusive and doesn't feel fully comfortable around most people, or bots

But the one bot they absolutely adore? Trust with their life? The one bot that truly makes them feel safe and secure, for as long as he's around? Their safety net?

Whirl

For some reason, the human is just so so so incredably attached to Whirl, if they don't have anything to do, they're usually in his tits cockpit, either talking to him about the most random nonsense, or just relaxing

No one knows why or how, it just happened

Whirl would do anything for his little human

For some reason Whirl also stands out to me as being the most likely to adopt any liaison, especially one who needs a little help feeling comfortable or safe. He's like an emotional support animal but thirty feet tall and capable of lots of violence, though perhaps that's what makes him so good at the job? Either way, I fully agree anon! I wrote a little something inspired by this <3

You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs as your blood pounded in your ears like a drum, so that even tucked away in your little hiding space there was just too much noise. It had started with a busy night at Swerve's, where you'd tried so hard to push yourself to be okay for a single evening only to find yourself overwhelmed as always... Were your body not throbbing from overstimulation you'd have been quite worried about running off like you had.

The rumble of encroaching footsteps made you throw your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut, your heart beating quickly enough to feel as if it might burst from between your ribs at any given moment. Despite being well hidden beneath a piece of furniture, the bot continued to close in on your hiding spot, making you want to scream when only a whisper could be uttered through your clenched teeth.

"Please, leave me alone..." you begged, hoping that whoever had wandered in would turn around and leave you be. It was nothing personal, it was all just too much, and you couldn't breathe at the thought of more attention. They all meant well, but there was nothing any of them could do to save you from the overwhelming terror clutching your chest like a vice. Tears burned your closed eyes as the bot drew ever nearer and the rushing in your ears became a cacophony of oppressive noise. "Please..."

A familiar warm yellow glow covered your entire body, compelling you to open your eyes to find a single optic peeking into your hiding spot.

"There you are." Whirl said matter of factly, cutting through the thick static of your panic and extending the tip of a claw into the narrow space. "Looks cramped in there. Wanna come on out?"

Sniffling, you grabbed a hold of him even though you were perfectly capable of crawling out yourself. Just having him near cooled the heat of your panic, though the rush of emotions that followed were far from pleasant, and you found fresh tears dripping down your cheeks as you came back into the open. Quite accustomed to the typical drop in your mood after these incidents, the big bot merely cupped his claws and extended them to you.

"I figured it be best if I found you first, a few bots are out looking for you." he explained gently, allowing you to secure yourself in his grasp before he lifted you to his chassis. You barely heard him as you wept, freeing all the terrible feelings that had swarmed inside of you. Whirl popped open his cockpit to reveal the little nest of blankets he'd made just for you, and he helped you get settled in silence before a tender claw tucked you in and he spoke again. "I'll let them know you're okay, and we can hang out for now, alright?"

Words failed you as the comfort of your safe space soothed you to the very core of your being, calming your haggard breaths into soft sighs. It was more or less impossible to be scared with the big bot literally all around you, as if you were secured within a warm embrace every time you settled down in his cockpit. A careful claw brushed by your hair to encourage you to close your eyes, and you felt Whirl begin to move as he sealed the hatch over you, his voice just audible as he placed a protective servo over the glass.

"You're okay, I'll make sure of it."

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lostlight #idw #tf #ll #human reader #self insert #whirl #whirl mtmte #idw whirl #liaisons

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 7 months

Text

"Mistress"

Pairing: Varda X Eönwë | Location: Ilmarin

Themes: Smut (Lemon/Graphic)

Word count: 1.5k words

Summary: Varda and Eönwë act out a proposition she puts to him after he admits to wanting her.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

Eönwë could not move, no matter how much he wanted to. And he yearned to do so—to run his hands over her naked flesh and bask in the glory that was her.

That was not to be. Varda wanted him bound, hands and feet both, and he agreed. She wanted him to obey her in all things during the act, and he still agreed. His wings rustled, unleashing a riot of unbridled lust when Varda brushed her hands over silken feathers.

"So soft," Varda pondered in wonder. "And yet, strong enough to carry you through the highest clouds and the strongest of winds, taking you to places few others could go."

His wings were indeed soft and strong. And so sensitive that the smallest touch was enough to send waves of rapture crashing over him. Eönwë let out a lusty whine when Varda brushed her hands over his feathers a second time, then a third. Heat surged through him even as queenly fingers glided over the tops of vivid blue-green wings. Varda laughed, the sweet sound of it rippling across the chamber.

"Is my little herald unraveling already?" She teased, this time running her hands over his arms, his wrists, his fingers. Hardened muscles tremble beneath her palms.

Eönwë sighed, for he was indeed close to unraveling beneath her. Time had passed by in a blissful haze as he lay like this, bound and prone, his cock already sheathed in her warmth. Varda had taunted and toyed with him, strumming him like a harp, and there was nothing he could do in return, nothing to give her pleasure. His queen refused to move, no matter how much he pleaded for her to do so. It was agony of the most acute kind, to not be able to lose himself in her completely.

"I am, mistress." Eönwë writhed against the bed, sighing wistfully when Varda ghosted her hand over his cheek.

How the queen enjoyed being called mistress! Varda had heard countless titles and countless epithets from the lips of more supplicants than she could care to count, but the way Eönwë called her mistress, his voice dripping with profound veneration, appealed to her baser nature in a way the others could not. It roused her even more. She shifted just a little. The delicious friction that came with it was too much; it almost sent Eönwë over the edge. He writhed again and his length sank a little deeper, filling her even more. Varda moaned. She fought to regain her sense of control.

Not yet, she told herself. I must hold out a little longer.

"Poor little herald," she began, tilting her head and studying him keenly. She marveled at how glorious he looked when bathed in the starlight that streamed through wide, arched windows. Eönwë was fantasy made flesh, all lean muscle and luscious lips, and lustrous black hair. "Unable to touch me or even move, unable to do much but yield to my will. Tell me, do you wish for me to put an end to your misery?"

Eönwë groaned under his breath when her thumb drifted over his lower lip. "Yes, my mistress. Please. Oh, please, yes."

"Open!" Varda ordered with barely a second thought.

His lips parted at her command. Eönwë shivered when her thumb dipped into the warmth of his mouth and pressed down on his tongue. Elated, he brought his lips around it, gently sucking down on her finger, his eyes fixed on hers the entire time. Shimmering gray eyes now burned like they had been set ablaze, their light flickering like the stars themselves. Varda cried out despite herself, engulfed by the white-hot sparks that rushed through her in furious response.

"Clever little herald." She purred and drew back. "You are making me forget myself.”

Eönwë pouted. “While I be denied even more as punishment?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” A slow smile worked its way across her face, softening the regal air around her. “We must see.”

Her smile was now as radiant as her eyes. His breath hitched at the sight, for he found her to be even more glorious than before. Her hair dazzled, as if a thousand tiny stars were hidden within each strand. Her fana gleamed as if lit from within. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld, and he declared it so.

Varda laughed again and said, "I should say flattery would get you nowhere, sweet herald, but in this instance, I have decided to make an exception."

She rolled her hips, slowly and gently, delighting in how quickly Eönwë’s vivid eyes closed. Varda leaned forward and dipped her head, capturing his lips with hers. He moaned again, this time when her tongue brushed against his lips. The sharp sting of nails raking down his chest when his mouth opened beneath hers was barely felt.

"Mistress…" was all he could say. Varda kissed him even harder for it. His shudders and quickening gasps were intoxicating. It was all she had hoped for and more, ever since she first set her eyes on him many an age ago.

Had it been so long? Perhaps that was the case, but it did not feel that way. And Varda had her dreams to keep her occupied, the chief of them always filled with the Elder King’s herald. Such visions were haunted by the image of her having her way with him, never the other way around. Varda had even spent many a delightful moment pleasuring herself by thinking of him and how his strong arms and his beautiful wings would wrap around her. And when Eönwë finally mustered his courage and confessed the depths of his desire for her, Varda listened to him and put forth a proposition after he finished. She would gladly give all of herself to him, she had said, but her consent came with a condition. Just one. When he pressed, she went on to say she was his queen and was to be treated as such even while they were abed. She was to lead, not him. Ever the one in command, Eönwë’s curiosity had piqued at the notion of letting another command him.

"This is new to me, mistress," he replied after a moment's reflection, "but I accept your terms."

Varda had been well pleased with his reply. Now he was here, in her bed and beneath her and inside her, keening wantonly into her mouth.

Eönwë took a deep breath of air when she pulled away. His lips were bruised and swollen by the time she straightened herself and began riding him, her hand sliding over to curl around his throat.

"Yes?" Varda questioned.

"Please," Eönwë pleaded without shame. His hands gripped the silken ties that bound his wrists, his talon-nails digging into the soft fabric. A hand as soft as silk gripped his neck, guiding the very air he breathed. It tightened and released, leaving him lightheaded, weak, desperate to surrender. He opened his eyes, drinking in the sight of his queen heaving over him, her head thrown back, her hair swaying from side to side, her mouth parted in silent cries. All he could do was watch this bewitching scene, his toes curling when heat and tension pooled in his belly.

"More, mistress!" he cried. "There mistress! There! Oh —"

Varda brought herself down harder and faster, her grip around Eönwë’s throat tightening each time she sank down on his cock. Now she was filled with a craving to have his hands caressing her, gripping her, her hips, bringing her down even harder.

The next time, she tells herself. There is a soft rip. Eönwë nearly ripped into the wisps that bound him. She tuts, leans down, and clasps his hands. They are now pinned against the featherbed. Her fingers knit around his, her hair brushes over tingling skin. Eönwë moves and thrusts his hips, trying to match her rhythm for rhythm.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Varda releases him and rises again, her own fana vibrating, as if electrified. She touches herself. Eönwë watches, his eyes clouded with lust and greed. She sees it.

“If I give you the freedom to do so, will you ruin me?”

“In every way possible, mistress.”

It excites Varda even more. Now she is relentless, frantic, wanton. She shook, then drowned in the rapture that rose to consume her. Her fana still rose and fell, not stopping until she heard her name fill the air like a sob, and Eönwë emptied himself inside of her. She collapses against him, still pulsating from the aftershocks that gripped her. Eönwë sighs, satisfied and replete. He barely feels the weight of his queen. His wings rustle beneath him, then stop. He says not a word until Varda opens her eyes and rises to her knees. She smiles at him. He smiles back at her, his eyes mirroring the deep satisfaction he sees. What happened between them was more wondrous than anything he could have dreamed of, and he wondered, What else does his queen have in store for him?

"Stay like that a little longer," Varda gently insists. "Just a little longer, my sweet herald, and I will release you. I hunger to see how well you take me with nothing to hold you back.”

Tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @cilil

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