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jadeslashes · 2 years

Text

🕸 being stalked by them.

includes: patrick bateman, charles lee ray, tiffany valentine, jason voorhees, michael myers, pinhead, jennifer check, freddy krueger, jackson rippner, stu macher, billy loomis.

warnings: includes nsfw, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. minors please dni.

tw: stalking, nsfw references, mention of dead animals [in jason voorhees’ section].

🪓﹒PATRICK BATEMAN ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he's incredibly calm, collected and calculated about it

honestly most of the time you'd just think when you cross paths with him that he's just Some Attractive Guy

and any time he makes a comment about how you look, or even says something that you think he shouldn't know about you, you pass it off as just him being observant and charming

wouldn't be shocked if he had a couple pages of notes about you

and if you ever got a little too close to finding out what he was actually doing, he'd know to lay off a little (and if anything, insult you like he tends to do to throw you off the scent a bit)

every time he's watching you he's thinking about all the things he wants to do to you, he'd get lost in his own thoughts staring at you until you moved out of his sight

by the time he asks you to go on a formal date with him, you can tell he's a little strange, but you don't know how long he's been planning this exact date with you or how much he knows about you

🛠﹒CHARLES LEE RAY ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he would be horribly possessive over you, anyone who comes too close has pretty much unknowingly held a gun to their own head

he's ruthless about it too, he doesn't care who they are or how close you were with them, they're getting killed off as soon as possible because his goal is for you to have no one but him to rely on

he'd be doing everything he possibly could to get you in a weakened mental state, so that you'd be more malleable and easier to manipulate

and if he can't be your one and only, he's just going to have to kill you too ig

🖤﹒TIFFANY VALENTINE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

to be fair, she didn't expect herself to become infatuated with you

she hardly even realized how obsessed she'd become before she was already trying to figure out how to make you hers <3

however unlike most, she wouldn't stalk you before trying to talk to you and flirting with you

you'd be going on dates, spending time with her and getting to know her

and all the while she'd be collecting information, never wanting to be away from you because she's just that into you

🕸﹒JASON VOORHEES ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he's the stalker you should be terrified for your life over, and he's not subtle

you won't know who he is, but you'll know that there's something wrong, someone watching you, someone playing these fucked up games with you

he'd leave dead animals in your yard from time to time, and do a lot of things to mess with your head, create anxiety until your every move is filled with complete dread of what you might find next or what might happen if you leave your house

and he's not stalking you with the intent of charming you and dating you, he's stalking you with the intent of taking you, eventually he just wouldn't be able to help himself, he'd need to have you <3

🔪﹒MICHAEL MYERS ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he's your very typical, almost basic stalker

the hiding in the shadows type who's always watching you from their hiding spot unseen

is he watching you because he's planning to harm you or because he wants to learn about and observe you, maybe even protect you? who knows <3

he knows your schedule and knows where you'll be at any given point in the day pretty much all the time

he'd leave things for you in places where he knows you'll find them, he'll take things like your jewelry, books, or clothes and leave them somewhere else

i could see him having a small notebook full of notes about you scribbled in his messy handwriting too <3

i don't know if he'd ever make himself known to you, but he might eventually leave a trace, a hint of himself behind to give you a glimpse of who he is

⛓﹒PINHEAD ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

the moment you open the lament configuration, there's no getting rid of them

they can appear at will where they want to, and they'll use this to their advantage

no one escapes the cenobites, and you're certainly no exception <3

while the cenobites' main goal is usually to defile and tear apart people's souls, that's not quite pinhead's goal with you

they'd want to keep you around longer, make this torture last

and considering they are completely neutral and never have feelings of any kind towards their victims, you should feel pretty special for the hold you've managed to have on pinhead

you'd never be able to sleep knowing what you might wake up to in your room

and obviously you'd never be able to tell anyone, who's going to believe you when you tell them a cenobite is stalking you and trying to torture you for their own enjoyment? good luck trying to explain what a cenobite even is without sounding completely insane

there's absolutely no getting out of it, you're stuck playing this cat and mouse game with pinhead until they decide your time is up

🩸﹒JENNIFER CHECK ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

you would have absolutely no idea, i mean who would ever believe that jennifer check of all people was a stalker?

but little does anyone know, she stalks you extensively, she's literally obsessed with you

she knows all of your socials and lurks them often, knows your schedule, knows what car you drive, knows who all of your friends are

if she found out you were going to a party this saturday, you bet your ass she'd be there. if she heard you were going to the mall with your friends right this second, she'd drop everything and make annita go to the mall with her so she could try to find you

she's much smoother about it than most because she's not the silently stare at you type, she'll come up and talk to you outright

so when she starts to flirt with you and asks you to do things with her, you think she just likes you, you don't ever question for a minute how she knows so much about you or why she already knows where your house is or anything like that

also honestly? her jealousy is insane, the urge to get rid of anyone that got too close to you would be strong to the point she might not even be able to control it

💭﹒FREDDY KRUEGER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

obviously he shows up in your dreams constantly

however unlike with his other victims, his goal isn't necessarily to kill you

whenever he chases you in your dreams he taunts you with fear tactics and tricks

occasionally you'd wake up with little scratches from his blades, which would almost be his way of claiming you, letting you know that he's there, that he's real

and the fact that no one would believe you about your dream demon hurting you in the waking, physical world? that makes it even better for him, he loves to see how he's driving you insane

he'd appear in your dreams every night to the point that it'd become more comforting to you than nightmarish, maybe even eventually you'd stop running away from him

and by then, if you ever didn't dream about him it'd be discomforting, it'd almost upset you

which wasn't even his goal, but he's definitely very happy with the outcome

even the little scratches would start to be a comfort to you, because it means that he's there

🛩﹒JACKSON RIPPNER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

you probably vaguely know him actually

not super well, to you he's just a guy you pass when you walk around the park like you usually do on fridays, or the guy you see sometimes at the one grocery store you always go to

you've had conversations in passing with him, and you'd never have a clue how much he knows about you or how many times he's watched you unseen

he picks up on every little detail, things you might not even notice about yourself

and when he finally starts really talking to you, using his charm and flirting a little, you're absolutely astonished at how well you and him seem to click

and you have no clue that it's only because he's stalked you for god knows how long <3

🥩﹒STU MACHER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he probably isn't very sly about it, i think you'd catch onto it pretty quickly

but just because he isn't slick doesn't mean it doesn't freak you out

whenever you go to school you're worried about seeing him, and somehow he always seems to be way closer to you than he should be

and he's such a starer, you could catch him staring and he wouldn't even stop or try to look away

and the worst part is that no matter how creeped out you get, no matter how many too-strange-to-be-a-coincidence things happen, no one believes you when you try to tell them

that's because he's just such a loud, charismatic guy that everyone seems to enjoy

and because of that, you're pretty much trapped

📞﹒BILLY LOOMIS ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

it all starts with those taunting, random phone calls

they'd start out few and far between

you'd just get a random phone call one night, have a very short, strange conversation with whoever was on the other line, then hang up and that'd be the end of it

until it happened again, and it was the same voice as the last time

each conversation, things would get more and more personal

and when you finally decided to hang up, not put up with this stranger's bullshit games anymore, that's when things would get real

that's when the phone calls would turn into him describing your clothing, the room you're in, and each move you make

he'd have you in total fear, under his complete control <3

6K notes · View notes

blooming-violets · 1 year

Note

For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace.

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend.

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her.

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand.

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents.

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!””

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else.

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you.

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?”

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.”

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.”

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking.

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked.

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.”

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?”

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence.

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at.

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight.

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet.

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile.

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing.

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal.

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…”

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.”

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer.

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you.

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies.

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there.

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second.

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused.

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him.

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross.

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!”

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.”

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up.

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers.

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes.

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.”

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city.

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound.

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.”

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you.

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you.

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core.

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken.

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both.

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party.

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile.

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him.

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended.

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile.

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air.

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more.

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you.

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable.

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face.

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves.

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited.

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger.

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers.

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.”

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression.

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you.

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire.

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker.

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too.

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh.

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker.

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life.

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing.

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him.

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?”

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.”

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes.

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath.

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it.

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.”

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter.

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate.

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell.

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details.

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear.

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?”

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod.

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead.

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap.

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him.

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear.

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to.

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you.

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side.

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace.

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.”

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself.

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you.

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak.

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax.

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched.

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.”

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright.

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance.

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed.

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans.

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss.

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway.

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?”

#tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut #andrew garfield #spiderman #tasm fic #peter parker fic #blooming violets #blooming violets fic #not so innocent

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callme-holly · 3 months

Note

HEY HI HELLO!! I was wondering if you havent already, do johnny or darry headcannons? BTW I LUV UR WRITING SM 🫶🏻

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - okay, I freaking love Darry so much but I struggled so hard writing this. omg I also want to apologise bc I didn't realise how many mistakes were on my last post like I audibly gasped when I looked. anyway, hope ya'll enjoy this lmao!! asks are still open for requests - I'm done with exams for a few weeks so I can finally start working on things more!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 644 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

He is such a gentleman, omg, I can't even

If you need something done, this man will do it for you with no hesitation. You’re important to him, and he wants to make sure you know that.

He’s probably not overly affectionate unless you two are completely alone. Once the gang had caught you both cuddling on the couch, and they had teased him for weeks afterwards.

In public, he’ll hold your hand and give you the occasional kiss, but nothing too extreme. He likes to keep your moments together private; they mean a lot to him, and he’s not just going to give the people around you the pleasure of seeing him so vulnerable.

At night, he’ll definitely hold you close while you two sleep.

He’s like a furnace, so who needs blankets when you’ve got Darry to keep you warm?

Arguments don’t happen often between the two of you, but when they do, they’re usually pretty bad. Give him a few hours to cool off, and then he’ll be holding you from behind and mumbling muffled apologies into your ear as he peppers your neck with small kisses.

Lots of massages and baths together. He works a lot, and his muscles are almost always tense, so having that time to relax and wind down with you is just what he needs.

He’s not the overly jealous type. Sure, if he thinks someone is getting a little too friendly with you, he’ll come up and try to take you away from them, but he isn’t going to stop you from interacting with someone completely just because he can’t control himself.

Date nights aren’t very common. In between work and taking care of his brothers, Darry doesn’t get much free time, but when he does, you best believe he is spending it with you, showing you how much he loves and appreciates you.

He’ll take you to dinner or for a drive in his truck just to get away from the house for a little while.

Sitting in his lap while he reads the paper!!

The gang, mainly Dallas and Two-Bit, refers to you as “mom and dad,” and it honestly drives you both insane.

“Look, I’m just sayin’, you’ve got that whole ‘nurturing, responsible, and slightly annoyed at my antics’ vibe going on.” “Well, if you keep up with those antics, you might find yourself sleeping outside for the night.” “Oh, come on, mom, you wouldn’t do that to your favourite child, would you?” “For the last time, Dallas, you are not my child. And if you were, you certainly wouldn’t be my favourite.”

Sodapop and Ponyboy love you. Like they love you. They will cling to you the second they meet you, and you’ll never be able to get rid of them.

I’m not even going to pretend he doesn’t have a picture of you in his wallet. He does, and he’s proud of it.

WEARING HIS SHIRTS!!!!

Constantly complimenting each other. Not a day will go by where he hasn’t complimented you at least ten times. He just needs you to know how perfect you are.

You stopped him from yelling at Ponyboy so much.

When you first brought it up, you definitely argued for a little while about the subject. He just wants what's best for his brother, and you telling him that he needs to lay off is probably going to spark something defensive within him.

He doesn't say ‘I love you’ very often, usually whispering it late into the night or early in the morning when you two are laying in bed and tangled with each other, but he always ensures that you know how much he cares and appreciates you.

Needless to say, Darry will not let you go away feeling unloved.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#darry curtis x reader #darry curtis #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagine #darry curtis imagine #darrel curtis #the outsiders preferences #the outsiders 1983

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dirtyvulture · 2 months

Text

Dear Diary

*Set in the Darkest Knight AU*

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4459

Summary: Natasha embraces her new life as an X-Men.

AN: I'm back with a little one shot. :) Enjoy!

December 6, 2023

Dear Diary,

Is that an appropriate way to start one of these? I’ve never kept a diary or a journal before. But Marie gave me this cute little notebook and said writing stuff down helps clear her mind, so I don’t think there’s any harm in giving it a shot. They would never let us have something like this in the Red Room. Too much evidence lying around for someone to stumble upon. Should I put a lock on this? Y/N wouldn’t snoop around to read this, would she? Well, I guess if she is–leave my diary alone, you big dummy!

The professor said the Red Room soldiers and Widows are coming tomorrow. This is all my fault. I’ve put these good people and innocent children in danger. Earlier, we went to help the kids pack their bags and board the buses. I’m not sure if Y/N has any kids of her own (or ever did at all), but I can tell she really cares about them. Although she was not happy with some of the excessive luggage some of them were bringing. No one would tell me where they’re sending the kids, but I overheard Ororo mention something about a private resort they had to buy out.

I still don’t quite understand why these people are willing to sacrifice so much for me. I’m basically a stranger to them. I have nothing to give them in return if they ask. Maybe they’ll finally throw me out when they realize how worthless I am. That’s what I really deserve. Not these warm clothes, the home-cooked meals, and this roof over my head. And I definitely don’t deserve the kindness and care Y/N has shown me. I really like her, but I’m afraid she’ll leave me when she realizes how boring and inexperienced I am.

Oh, I think she’s coming out of the shower now. I’ll continue this later.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 15, 2023

Dear Diary,

It’s weird how life goes back to normal so fast here. The Red Room soldiers and Widows were here not even a week ago, tearing down doors and blasting out windows, and everything is already repaired and the students are back at it like nothing happened.

A lot of them are excited to go back to their homes and families for the holiday. But a lot of them will also be staying at the mansion, because their families won’t accept them or they just don’t have any home to go back to. The professor asked Y/N to help plan some holiday games so the kids staying don’t get too bored or lonely. She’s acting like it’s the dumbest assignment he’s ever given her, but I’ve seen her spending all her free time ordering presents and decorations (with the professor’s credit card, of course), so I know she takes it very seriously and the kids are going to love whatever she comes up with.

I’m really glad I get to spend Christmas here. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually been able to celebrate it with people I love. I feel so welcomed here and no one looks at me like I’m any different, when I come from a past where there’s red all over my ledger. Sometimes I’m surprised anyone even lets me be around these kids alone, but some of them have powers that even make Y/N nervous, and I think they know they can trust me.

It’ll take some more time before I can be fully comfortable here, but it’s really starting to grow on me and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 25, 2023

Natasha wakes up alone. She looks around the bedroom, in case you might be on the floor doing push-ups or in the bathroom showering, but the room is completely empty. Her heartbeat picks up as she jumps out of bed, afraid that you’ve left her, when she notices a note on the desk.

Downstairs making breakfast. Come join when you’re up - Y/N

She relaxes immediately, touched how you made sure to let her know in advance where you would be. She quickly washes up and puts on a robe, then hurries downstairs to a chaotic mess of torn gift wrapping, screaming children, and flashing new toys. She steps into the kitchen, where you are wearing a flowered apron and are threatening Marie with a spatula.

“Stop, those aren’t ready–Marie!” You swat at her hands as she swipes for a pancake.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Nat!” Marie says, moving your attention away from her as your girlfriend appears.

“Merry Christmas, Marie.” Natasha gives the girl a hug, not missing the folded pancake in her hand.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” you say next, waiting for her to come over. “I made a special plate for you. It’s over here so the kids don’t get into it.” You point to a foil-covered plate off to the side of the stove. Natasha goes to investigate, peeling back the foil to find the plate fully-loaded with two different types of pancakes, one next to a little container of jam and honey, and the other still steaming and garnished with flecks of green onion. There’s even a bowl of grainy buckwheat porridge. Her heart soars at the sight of her favorite native breakfast. With a delighted squeal, she throws herself into your arms.

“Thankyou thankyou thankyou,” she choruses, squeezing you tightly as you rub her back.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

At this point, you shoo everyone out of the kitchen to finish the preparations. Natasha joins Marie in the dining hall, helping set up the plates and silverware. She watches with great curiosity as Kitty tries getting Peter to step under the mistletoe she hung above the doorway, and then is distracted when Jean and Scott come down for breakfast.

“Y/N cooks Christmas breakfast for us every year,” Jean explains to Natasha. “The kids always look forward to it.”

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott yells into the kitchen. “Keep the walnuts away from my food, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Natasha hears you dismissively respond.

“Scott’s allergic,” Jean whispers to her. “Now there’s no proof how, but he ended up with a plateful of them last year and I almost had to take him to the hospital. Needless to say, it was an eventful Christmas.”

Natasha giggles to herself, already having a feeling she knows exactly how those walnuts got on Scott’s plate.

Everyone finds a seat at the table, the empty one next to Natasha reserved for you. You finally emerge from the kitchen, no longer in the flowered apron but one of your classic checkerboard flannels. You’re carrying an impressive tower of pancakes in one hand and a pan filled half and half with bacon and sausage in the other. The students break out in appreciation and applause as Bobby scoots aside some dishes to make room for the last trays.

“Don’t take more than you can finish,” you remind the kids, going around the table to sit next to Natasha and presenting her with her special plate. “And uh, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that other stuff.” You raise your apple cider in a toast and everyone follows your lead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Y/N,” Ororo says, clinking her glass to yours. The students erupt with more thanks before they start reaching for the food, passing around the mountainous plate of pancakes, scooping whole fried eggs onto each other’s plates.

“Thanks again, babe,” Natasha says, putting her hand on your thigh as she leans over to kiss you on the cheek.

“You should try it first before thanking me,” you tease, still not used to all the praise. You were just trying to be a good partner, and it was somewhat of a Christmas tradition for you to cook breakfast for all the students who stayed at the mansion over break. You didn’t mind it at all, in fact you really did enjoy spending time in the kitchen and it made you feel good to take care of others.

Natasha leaves her hand on your knee as she eats, and eventually you put your hand on top of hers comfortingly. Neither of you engage much in conversation as you eat and listen, happy with the company. Once all of the food has been finished, Ororo rounds up the students to help clean everything before they can continue opening presents.

Kitty gets you a Johnny Cash vinyl record. Marie and Bobby got you a variety pack of exotic flavors of jerky, including alligator, ostrich, and buffalo. Storm gives you and Natasha tickets to a weekend getaway at a Canadian resort. Jean and Scott also throw in a joint gift of a new set of winter bedsheets. You are very thankful for the presents and pile them neatly by your feet, when Natasha pulls out a box and puts it on your lap. Inside is a familiar-looking flannel shirt.

“It’s a brand new one,” Natasha says. “To replace all the ones I steal from your closet,” Natasha says.

“Thanks,” you say, putting your arm around her to pull her closer so you can kiss her cheek. “This one is from me.” You hand her a very small box.

Natasha opens it delicately and gasps when she sees what you’ve given her. It’s a wooden ring, carved a little roughly around the edges with little turquoise-colored gems pressed into the outside.

“Did you make this?” Natasha asks, running her finger over the gems.

“Uh, yeah.” You’re suddenly nervous that she doesn’t like it. Woodworking was not your finest hobby, despite your decades to fine-tune the skill, but you preferred to build vast structures and furniture. Tiny little pieces of jewelry were extremely difficult to handle, but hopefully it was worth the numerous cuts and splinters you gave yourself.

Natasha slips it on her right ring finger–a perfect fit. Maybe you needed to give yourself more credit for your handiwork.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, holding her hand up to admire the ring. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Natasha snuggles closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder while you sit back and watch everyone else finish opening their gifts.

***********************************************************************

The rest of the day is busy but productive. Natasha has never felt happier watching the students competitively decorate gingerbread houses, then go outside and play in the snow. You don’t join in anymore, preferring to watch from the side. You’re already wearing the flannel Natasha got for you and Natasha gazes at you adoringly from afar. Despite the differences the two of you had from time to time, she hasn’t loved another person the way she loves you. But sometimes she worries that you don’t feel the same way.

You still don’t talk very much, hardly opening up about your past the way Natasha has spilled about hers. Although you seem mostly content at the mansion, Natasha can tell you’re still adjusting to being around so many people. The life of solitude in the cabin in the woods had clearly been more your style, and she feels guilty for dragging you away from that. But as much as she would love to spend all day with you cozied up in a cabin you built with your own hands, it wasn’t a realistic option. Not with all the threats and dangers that could come her way.

Which is why it was so important to Natasha that the Red Room be dealt with, as soon as possible.

She didn’t like how dismissive you got every time she brought it up, but she understood why. You had found your domestic bliss and didn’t want to let it go anytime soon. She wasn’t going to blame you. But she wished you would actually listen to her instead of shutting her down all the time. She would figure out how to broach the topic with you eventually, but today was not that day.

After a quiet dinner, which is basically just warmed up leftovers from breakfast, Natasha finds you sitting by yourself on the couch in front of a dying fire. Most of the students had retired to their rooms, exhausted by the day’s festivities. Natasha sits next to you, leaning her shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi.” You offer her your hand and she clasps onto it, threading her fingers with yours. You smile when you see the wooden ring on her finger. It looks perfect on her. “Did you have fun today?” you ask.

“It was the best Christmas I ever had,” she replies. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.”

Natasha is tired, but there’s still one more thing she wants to do with you. She rests her hand on your thigh, subtly at first, then she slowly starts to stroke your leg, her fingers barely perceptible through your jeans. You ignore her and her movements become bolder, creeping towards the inside of your thigh now and squeezing it lightly.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally ask. Natasha has always been a little more shy when it comes to asking for intimacy with you. But you were patient with her and never pressured her, and that encouraged her to have the confidence to ask if you were in the mood–even if she didn’t always do it with words.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she says, leaning forward until her lips almost touch yours. “I still have one more present to give you.”

“Oh, do you now?” you ask, trying to kiss her but she pulls away.

“You have to come upstairs,” she repeats, offering you her hand as she stands up.

“All right, all right.” Your knees creak as you push off the couch, taking Natasha’s hand and following her upstairs. You can hear her heartbeat pounding with excitement or maybe that’s…yours? You hope everyone else has gone to sleep by now, otherwise they wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

Back in the privacy of the bedroom, you let Natasha lead you to the bed and you sit down on the edge with her climbing onto your lap.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her hands locking around the back of your neck.

“Of course,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. Your arms circle her waist to hold her securely in place. Her breath fans over your face and her heartbeat pumps at an almost alarmingly quick rate.

“I want you,” she says, rocking her hips against your thighs. “I want you to take me.”

“How do you want me?” you ask, before she presses her lips roughly to yours, her fingers digging into your neck. Her arousal spikes and so does yours. You open your mouth when she licks your lips to deepen the kiss. She tastes like vanilla and cookies and you instinctively pull her closer to you, wanting to devour her until the morning.

Natasha grabs the collar of your flannel, pulling apart the top buttons and running her hands down your chest and abs. Your skin burns where she touches you and you nip lightly on her bottom lip when she rests her hands on the buckle of your belt.

“I want to taste you,” you pant, hoping your request doesn’t come across as too greedy. Natasha has to fight down her thrill of excitement at your suggestion, wondering how you knew exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t even take the time to agree with you, instead hurriedly stripping off her clothes to show you how eager she is. You take off the flannel, setting it aside with reverence, then removing your undershirt and jeans. Natasha tackles you back on the bed, your thigh fitting between her legs and you feel the heat from her center rubbing against you.

“You’re so wet for me,” you say, holding her hips again and guiding her up until she’s hovering over your chest. “My good girl.”

“Your good girl,” Natasha reiterates, grabbing onto the headboard for support before she positions herself over your face. The scent of her arousal is almost overwhelming to you, and you waste no time bringing your arms over her thighs to pull her down. Natasha whines when your mouth makes contact with her slick center, your tongue slipping into her and coating with her juices.

Natasha moans, grinding down so you can enter her deeper. Your arms tighten to prevent her from moving too much; you want to do things at your own pace. Her taste is so intoxicating and addictive, you could lie here forever eating her out. Natasha grips the headboard tighter, struggling to rock against your face for more friction, but you won’t let her. She whines in desperation, the noises music to your ears. Your tongue dips into her again before tracing up to her clit, flicking against it and Natasha grinds down harder on your chin, gasping and moaning.

“Y/N,” she begs. “Y/N, please.”

You stop, pulling away from her far enough to say, “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” she repeats, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I got you.” As much as you love teasing her, this is not the time. You knew Natasha could sometimes be insecure about your relationship with her. But you had no regrets in choosing to be with her and loved her so much. You would never miss an opportunity to show her, either.

You loosen your arms around her so she has some freedom to move and Natasha quickly adjusts herself until she’s comfortable. When she settles back down on your face again, you find her clit and wrap your lips around it, rewarded with a long, drawn-out moan. Natasha rolls her hips to help you find a good rhythm. You feel her thighs tremble and more of her slick spills onto your tongue.

“Oh, god. Oh fuck, Y/N,” she whimpers, the headboard flexing dangerously from how hard she’s holding onto it.

Your stomach practically burns from how aroused you are with Natasha riding your face, and you’re hoping she’ll help you relieve some of the tension once you make her finish. You’ve held out as long as you could, and you can tell Natasha is ready to fall over the edge. Your tongue rests on her clit again, swiping upwards in a straight line, then dragging down at a diagonal angle, then going back up.

Your tongue moves in an inverted V next, drawing an imaginary bar between them.

You lick down her clit once more, then swipe perpendicular.

Natasha is panting and shaking, completely unaware that you’re trying to spell her name on her with your tongue. One of her hands has left the headboard and is holding tightly onto your hair in an attempt to guide you, but your own plan is already in action.

She doesn’t make it the next A, her back arching and thighs clamping around your head as she finally cums. You don’t let a drop of it go to waste, lapping at her sensitive folds until she’s whimpering and trying to pull your head away. Natasha lifts herself off your face with a contented sigh, turning herself away from the headboard now, but you’re not quite done with her yet.

You pull her back down on your face and she falls forward with her hands on your chest.

“Did I say you could go anywhere?” you grumble playfully.

“Y/N,” Natasha giggles.

“Can I have one more, darling?” you ask, and she responds by sitting back on your face. But now Natasha is the one with other ideas, as she eyes the veins on your flexing abdomen that disappear behind the band of your underwear. You feel her hands run across your stomach and your breath hitches when she tugs down your underwear.

“Nat, what are you–oh, shit.” Now it’s your turn to gasp and moan when Natasha leans over and places her mouth on your dripping center. You completely lose focus of what you were doing, instinctively spreading your legs open further to give her better access. “Fuck baby, oh fuck,” you whine, your head dropping back on the pillow.

“Did I say you could stop?” Natasha teases, turning your own words back against you. It takes a monumental effort, but you calm yourself enough to put your mouth to work again. Natasha almost soaks herself when she realizes how turned on you’ve gotten just from eating her out. Now she has only one mission in mind: make you cum before she does a second time. But you’re refusing to make it easy for her, and Natasha is already dangerously close despite having finished mere minutes ago. She knows she has to hurry, but judging from the tremble in your thighs, you’re closer than you’re letting on.

Natasha’s tongue circles your clit and she can feel you panting against her, your own efforts faltering in their rhythm. She pushes back against your face to remind you of what you promised her. Your fingers dig into the curve of her ass and you feel her breasts rubbing against your abs. Her mouth is so hot and wet and perfect on you, making you lose your breath every time her tongue touches you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you whimper, feeling like you’re losing control of yourself. You’re not even sure if what you’re doing to her anymore is working because all you can think about is the throbbing in your lower stomach that begs to be released. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue lashes at your clit and she struggles and fails to push down on your thighs to keep you grounded. “Nat, I can’t,” you warn, a little embarrassed at how fast you’re ready to release.

“It’s okay,” you hear Natasha say, “Cum for me, baby.”

White floods your vision and all the muscles in your body tighten as you spill into her mouth, a moan catching in your throat. Your head spins in a rush of endorphins and you’re practically convulsing underneath Natasha when you finally come down from your high. She purrs in delight at her success, gently squeezing at your thighs. And as much as you want to flip her around and press her head against your chest, you still do owe her.

Natasha’s second orgasm is a little more subdued but just as pleasurable. She bites the inside of your thigh to quiet the noise of her moan and you almost cum again. But once she finds the strength to move, Natasha crawls back up to you, nuzzling the side of your head and kissing you. Normally, you could go several rounds without even stopping for a break, but you’re unusually exhausted today. Maybe it was from waking up at four o’clock to work on breakfast for everyone or making sure that the Christmas activities throughout the day ran smoothly.

Natasha rests her head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat and you rub her shoulder, tilting your head down to breathe in the faded scent of her shampoo.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***********************************************************************

January 2, 2024

Dear Diary,

Professor Xavier called me personally to his office today. I was really nervous that I was in trouble for something. I’m still not sure how I feel about his mind-reading thing. I try to keep my thoughts in check when he’s around, but I think that makes it seem like I’m hiding something. But other than that, he’s only ever been polite and respectful to me, and I can tell Y/N really looks up to him as a mentor and father figure.

He told me he has a lead on where the Red Room could be and asked if I still want to pursue them. Of course I do, but I know Y/N isn’t happy about it. I thought she would understand more. I know she’s got her own past that she hasn’t told me the entirety of yet (not that she’s required to), but she’s told a few stories so I know her situation is similar enough to mine. I wish she was more supportive instead of trying to talk me out of it, but I know she’s worried too. She doesn’t want me rushing back into danger and I totally get that. But I just…I can’t stay here and be cared for and protected and loved when there are so many of my sisters still being held against their will and forced into doing horrible things.

Luckily, the professor seems more understanding of things. But I don’t want him or anyone else here risking their lives for me. If I have to go alone, I will. I don’t know if I can do it alone, though. I’m sure Y/N will insist on tagging along no matter what. I just hope she doesn’t get too grumpy about the whole thing.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

January 4, 2024

Dear Diary,

I still haven’t told Y/N what the professor told me 2 days ago (assuming she hasn’t already gone through my diary and read about it here). I tried to mention it after dinner, but I could tell as soon as I let the “R” word slip she was not paying attention to the conversation anymore. I don’t want my frustration to build up, so I’ll probably have to be straightforward about it, which isn’t easy.

I know the professor can hear all of my thoughts, so I wonder if he’s going to get tired of them and just talk to Y/N himself. But probably not. This is my problem to handle. I’ll find the courage somehow to deal with it.

I just hope it doesn’t cause Y/N to look down on me for this. I’m already nervous that I’m constantly annoying her, and if she gets fed up enough and kicks me out I will literally have nowhere to go and at that point, I’d welcome back the Red Room with open arms. That probably seems a little dramatic, but I really don’t want to risk losing the best person that ever came into my life. I have Y/N to thank for everything I have here, and I think most people in my position would call me crazy for trying to make any changes to my situation.

But I’m not like most people. And I have to do what I think is right, even if others try to stop me.

I’ll bring it up to Y/N later again. Maybe if I catch her in a good mood she’ll be more receptive to the idea. Wishing luck to my future self.

Love,

Nat

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AN: Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

Multipart sequel in the works!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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nyctophiliq · 3 months

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FREE PALESTINE, FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA !

i have refrained from making this post, both for the reason of not wanting to be ridiculed as a "know it all" and because i thought people in this day and age, where we have the internet to do almost the impossible would conclude to themselves that helping is now not an impossible thing.

but here we are.

i feel like a lot of you out there, who might not have a following, or has a big following but doesn’t post has completely ignore the important aspects of the internet that they claim to be using.

i sense that none of you above want to acknowledge that there is a world outside of your tumblr, because why would you? the sole purpose of you coming here was to get away from the real life around you, to have something to ground yourself with instead of having to face the dark, gruesome troubles that you are having but all i see is hiding, not dealing. now that that real life is with you on your dashboard, talking about people dying of bombs, slaughter, hunger, and dehydration is taking away the sense of escape that you came here to seek. and by no means i am defending you, silent creatures, i am dragging you by the collar of your shirt through the mud for your inhumane actions.

it shows how some of you cherish life, wanting it to be as perfect as possible- going to therapists to deal with your trauma, going to the store to not starve, enjoying the police and military of a secure country that has fallen into your hand by the right of your birth. you say you are depressed and not well, voice your concerns about how some people neglect to even think about your mental health because the person dismissing your problems could be only a horrible person in turn.

how does it not hurt to see other people in pain, being hurt on purpose and not thing that “i should maybe do something, i wouldn’t wanna be in the place they are, wouldn’t wanna be going through what they are”. to see you holler about your right to a better life, a good mental health is outragious. you believe in your right to have that why can’t you believe that other people deserve it too?

how can you go a day without talking about, or at least acknowledging in your own words that what you have gone through- all that trauma, that abuse, being cut up, and spit at- can’t be as bad or twice as bad for other people? of course we can talk about our problems, we can say that we are struggling but we have to at least have the decency to say that we are not the only ones.

telling yourself that someone else is in bigger trouble than you won’t help you, ignoring your pain for somebody else’s doesn’t make yours go away but it can make you realize that somehow there has to be a way through it- going to a therapist to work on your issues for example. a lot of you don’t understand that the life you have, the life you love and cherish despite how horrible it might have been before others want to have it too? the relief of being able to say “shit happened, but i got through it”, to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to have a family, friends, siblings, and people around them, to have their own religion, background, city of birth that brings them closer as a community, to have somewhere to belong.

our world has been so easy, we don’t have to go to war to help, we don’t have to spend money to help- we only need our voice, that simple click, and the reblog to let others out there know that this is not okay and that people are fighting for them, to have them hope for another day, to have them endure for a brighter future.

in this day and age we have become so pleasantly blissed by the “bystander affect”, letting everything slip by because “hells, it’s easier to be like this than actually do something”. it shows how many of you are fighting, how many of you accepted defeat, how many of you still have hope.

and i mean all offense.

FREE PALESTINE, FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA !

#🍃 — moss rambles !

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satrs · 11 months

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𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨.

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; you two just divorced but he can't find peace with the fact of letting you go.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Michael Kaiser x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 2.1k

ᴛᴀɢꜱ; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! angst. fluff. hurt to comfort. oral (fem! revieving)

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ having an intense kaiser brainrot rn. I'm tired so sorryyy if it seems rushed aaaa

It was all over.

With a simple and quick swing of his hand, he was the one to complete the divorce papers, feeling bitter at the feeling.

He noticed your demeanor relaxing at that, clearly irritated by your action. Why do you seem so relieved? Did you really anticipate this moment that much? Was he really the person you painted him to be?

He knew that he made mistakes, grave ones even. But there is nothing that couldn’t have been prevented by a serious talk between the both of you.

But you were just so over his antics, leaving you alone for nights on end, not answering your calls, and making you worry about him- just overall not giving you the attention and love he once did at the beginning of your marriage.

Of course, you knew that he had a lot to do as a professional soccer player, but not being able to spend the little free time he had with his wife? That’s just ridiculous.

And to be honest, looking back at it, he didn’t really recognize your pleas and worries- until it was too late.

„Y/N don’t you think we can still talk about this? I know I was an asshole but we can still work things out.“ You scoffed at his pleas, taking ahold of the signed divorce documents before turning on your heels to walk out of the room, not sparing him another glance.

„You wanna talk things out now? After I tried so many times? We're done, Kaiser. That’s where your stubborn head is bringing you.“ He gritted his teeth at the sound of his last name, not daring to say another word, watching you walk out of his sight as he felt his heart sink.

He lost you. The one and only person he loved and cared for. His lovely wife. Why did he let things come so far? Why did he not listen to you and talked about your troubles? Why. Why. Why. The only word filling his mind.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Every day after the incident when he stepped into your once-shared home, a wave of coldness wrapped around him as he felt how lonely it was without you here.

You would usually greet him with tons of kisses, a bright smile on your face regardless of his sour expression, trying to cheer him up with food, a movie marathon, cuddles, or sometimes, mind-numbing head.

He plopped down onto the couch, sadness washing over him as he let out a shallow breath. Oh, how he missed cuddling with you, kissing you, touching you.

He just now realized the consequences of his reckless actions. He realized that you had slipped through his fingers. His head fell into his hands, fingers brushing through his hair in frustration.

He can’t believe it. And he doesn’t want to. Don’t you know that he needs you? Loves you? You knew how hard he would be before entering the relationship, knowing his nature. So why would you give up on him- on the both of you so fast?

Did you find someone new while he was gone and overseas? Was that the reason for your quick decision? He felt sick in the stomach at the thought of someone other than him by your side. He couldn’t stand the thought, face growing bitter.

His head soon came up into view, low eyes gazing around the empty room. He couldn’t let you go, not in the wildest of his dreams could he imagine you away from him. So he knew what he had to do.

His body moved on its own, strolling into the bathroom to take a quick shower, cooling off from his steaming thoughts.

He will get you back at any cost. He will prove to you that he is still the same Michael you became fond of, the one you dedicated your life to by the vow around your finger.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

The doorbell rang and he swiftly moved to open it. But as he saw who was standing at the doorstep, he felt his heart sink into his pants. "H-hey. How're you doing?" Your eyes halted right at the towel wrapped around his hip, torso bare for your eyes to see, blue rose tattoo still how you had in your memory, the inc decorating his toned figure. Then your gaze lifted to his face, hair damp and still wet from the shower, some waterdrops gliding down his neck, his wedding ring still attached to his finger.

You got back to yourself, pushing past him and ignoring his caring questioning. You just wanted to get the rest of your clothes, that's it. No need for small talk or anything else. He is no longer your husband, so you shouldn't feel obliged to answer him, or do anything for him.

But as you made your way through the place you once called home, you noticed how messy the place was. Of course, it would be, since he was barely at home, who would clean up the mess? You found yourself mouth open, close to questioning Michael about - this. And about his well-being. Even if you didn't want to admit it to yourself, deep down you really missed him those past weeks.

You missed his presence, and the feeling of his lips on yours whenever he came home, or the way his hands caressed your hips, asking you what was on the menu today. And you also missed those special intimate moments with him, when the both of you were so vulnerable for one another, moans and groans filling the bedroom as you gave each other your whole.

"Please Y/N, let's talk. It's been a few weeks and I really miss you." Careful steps approached your figure as you stood in front of your closet, picking out what you came for. "I just came to get my clothes. Like I said last time, there is nothing to talk about."

You purposely kept your back turned to him because you knew- you knew the moment you would turn around and look into those eyes of his, you would give in.

"Baby please," he began, hand softly placed on your shoulder, causing your movements to halt. "I miss you." His hand traveled down your arm, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you felt his hands intertwining with yours.

You promptly turned around, shoving his hand off of yours, heart filling with guilt at your action. "Don't you baby me." But you had to. It was over and the both of you had to move on.

Your furious eyes soon turned soft at your thoughts, eyes sparkling guilt inside them as you felt your eye sting, tears threatening to escape. He noticed, his hand flying up to your face to hold it, thumb stroking your cheek and making a mental note as you leaned into his touch. As he saw your hand ball into fists he noticed that you to still had your wedding ring on.

He pulled you towards his chest, your tears now flowing down with no way of stopping, taking out all your frustration and anger that you build up over the past years on him. "You're an asshole. Never once did you want to talk but now? Now after everything is done?"

He cooed at you, trying to stop your tears. He hated seeing you cry and he hated it even more that he was the reason for it. "I know. I'm sorry. Please just give me one more chance. I will prove it to you."

Your teary eyes stared up at him, sniffling as you inspected his face for any reaction. As you noticed the painful and guilty look on his face you made your decision. Your arms flew around his neck, lips attacking his, surprised gasp leaving his mouth before he leaned into the feeling.

God you missed this so much. Him, his lips, everything that was about him and him only- Michael. You softly moaned into his mouth as you leaned into the feeling you've missed for so long, one leg wrapped around his hip as the towel slightly loosened around it.

He himself couldn't think straight anymore, groans escaping his lips as he felt your lower region press up against his. He swiftly took ahold of your rear, lifting you up and moving to your once shared bed, intending on proving himself to you. He had to show you how sorry he was and how much he really loved you, all the pain and sorrow he had caused for you shall disappear.

He carefully lays you down, as if you were made out of glass, towel around his hips now long forgotten as he hovered above you, lips back on yours again. His hands traveled over every part of your body, not leaving one single spot unnoticed.

"Stop teasing", you whined in frustration, earning a low chuckle from the man above you. "I'm sorry baby. Just missed you so much." His fingers made quick work to your pants, finding their way into your panties, a soft sigh passed your lips.

Michael's lips attacked your neck, hot and wet tongue attacking your skin as his hand worked wonders in your panties. "So beautiful." His other hand sneaked under your shirt and bra, softly fondling your breasts. "My beautiful wife." You subconsciously moved into his touch, moans escaping your lips at his words.

His mouth moved down your neck, littering wet kisses onto your stomach, stopping with his face right over your clothed heat. "Love you. So much. Never letting you go." He growled at the sight of the wet patch visible on your panties, impatiently tearing the small cloth from your body, taking in the sight of your glistening heat.

You let out a cry of pleasure and tangled your fingers into his hair as you felt his mouth on your pussy lips, tongue drawing what seemed to be hearts on your puffy clit. The odd but familiar feeling caused a shiver to run down your spine, toes curling in euphoria.

The grip on his hair tightened as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. There was no way to deny it- you really did miss your husband. And the wonders his tongue worked inside of you too.

"J-just like that Micha' fuck." Your mind was clouded in pleasure, unable to keep a straight mind. The man moaned, no- whimpered into your heat at the sound of the nickname rolling off your tongue. He was determined to fill your whole body with pleasure, ignoring his throbbing cock as he moved his hand under your shirt to get ahold of your soft tits. "Give it to me. All of it." His growl against your folds threw you over the edge, loud moan erupting from your throat as your thighs clenched tightly around his head, nearly suffocating him.

You were panting as you came down from your anticipated high, meanwhile, Kaiser crawled back up, close to your face now as he caught his breath. "Please baby," he began, hand creeping up to hold your face, eyes full of love and devotion as he looked at you. "let's try again. I'll make up for every second we lost."

You hesitated, shying away from his touch as your lips formed a thin line. "You won't regret it Y/N. I swear to you from the bottom of my heart that we'll go back to how it used to be. Don't you want that too, baby? Like the good old days?"

Your eyes met his, gaze wandering between his features, admiring his beauty. Of course, you wanted to. You really did. Another try wouldn't hurt, right? Maybe you did overdo it with the divorce. All in all, the both of you had your wrongs to correct, no one was in innocent.

Looking back to it, both of you did overcome so many burdens and struggles. So who would say you couldn't manage this?

You let out a sigh as you came to your conclusion. "Okay." Your simple word caused the man's eyes above you to light up, he quickly embraced you in a tight hug as he lifted you up and spun the both of you around, peppering you with lots of kisses as you giggled at his action. He then threw the both of you onto the bed, laying next to you as he drew shapes onto your hip, a lovestruck expression painting his face. "Stay?"

His question caused you to look at him, soft smile on your lips. You nodded, getting up on your elbows as the man raised an eyebrow at you when you straddled his lap, flashing him a sly smirk. "Nonono, I'm fine you don't need to-" Your lips against his cut his words off, sigh escaping his lips. Your still needy cunt was seated right on top of his hard length, your movements causing him to lowly moan as he held your hips in an attempt to stop you.

"You don't seriously think I'll leave you like that Micha'?" Your question was rather rhetorical. "Let me go next with making it up to you, 'kay?"

And how could he refuse his loving wife when she sat ontop of him so cutely, hips needily grinding onto him?

"I'm all yours."

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴮᴸᴸᴷ #michael kaiser smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #bllk michael kaiser #blue lock #blue lock x female reader #michael kaiser blue lock #blue lock manga #bllk #michael kaiser #kaiser michael #need me a michael in my life #x reader

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pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Search & Rescue (Chapter 1)

Lo’ak x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: Cursing, hints at depression, heavy drinking, mentions of sex, a lot of sexual tension, fluff.

Synopsis: Lo’ak has a bit of a reputation that he’s been trying so hard to break out of. He just needs the right girl to come and rescue him. Looks like he found her tonight.

For the best experience, listen to Ozone by Chase Atlantic

“Damn, this party is live tonight.” Lo’ak chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. He stood next to Neteyam and his mate, as they cuddled up next to each other by the drink table.

“Mhm.” Neteyam hummed, completely focused on his mate before bending down to give her a kiss, and she obliged ofcourse. Lo’ak snapped his head at them in complete disgust.

“Booo! Get a fucking room!” Lo’ak leaned over, shouting into Neteyams ear. Neteyam detached his lips from his mate, giving lo’ak a death stare.

“Go find some business. Better yet, go find a NICE girl. Moms sick of the whores you bring home.” Neteyam spat, turning his mate in his arms, bringing her back into his embrace.

“I’m not thinking about a mate right now, bro. I’m just…scoping the land.” He smirked, watching a group of girls walk past him.

“Hi, ladies.” He spoke in his melodic tone, eyeing them up and down with his predatory gaze. “Hey, lo’ak.” They all giggled, speaking in unison. He watched them walk away, burning wholes in their backsides, making sure he didn’t miss anything.

“And that’s exactly what you DONT want to bring home. Haven’t you fucked ALL of those girls?” Neteyam asked, swaying his mate back and forth.

“So? What’s your point?” Lo’ak asked, taking another sip of his drink, looking out into the crowd. “My point is, that’s toxic. Find ONE girl!” Neteyam chuckled, picking his drink up from behind him to take a sip.

“I think I’ve given myself too much of a reputation. She wouldn’t give me a chance even if I tried.” Lo’ak spoke but immediately regretted it. No one knew that he actually did have his eyes set on someone in particular.

“SHE? Oh my eywa! Who? Give me all the details!” Neteyam’s mate spoke excitedly, so happy that lo’ak had a clue of who he wanted to spend his life with.

“gIVe mE AlL tHe deTAilS!…absolutely not. You talk too much!” Lo’ak joked, chuckling as he unintentionally blew his cover, staring directly at you, dancing with your friends in the crowd. All of those girls, and he only saw you. It’s like everyone else disappeared. Everything about you made his heart pound. Especially tonight. You must’ve just taken your braids out right before arriving. Your hair was curly, flowing down your back just how he liked. You wore cloths woven with beautiful crystals, a little more revealing than usual.

You had a thigh band on that matched your outfit. And all lo’ak could think about was pulling it down your leg with his teeth. Ripping your cloths off to reveal your beautiful body. Nuzzling his head into your gorgeous hair, to rid the scent of any other girl left on him. He wanted to be saved, rescued from his continuous cycle. He just couldn’t seem to find the right girl who would take him seriously as a mate. But he knew that was his own fault, he built this reputation for himself, and it was hard to break it down.

“You’re so obvious IDIOT!” Neteyam’s mate laughed, snapping him out of his trance.

“Huh? W-What are you going on about now?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, not being able to look away from you, not even for a second.

“Ohhh y/n, huh? Now that’s the definition of a nice girl. And she’s one of the best warriors in training. She’d be good for you.” Neteyam spoke, smiling before planting a kiss on his mates head.

“Yeah, but will I be good for her is the question. I-I don’t wanna fuck it up with her. I CAN’T fuck it up with her. Shes different bro. The “bring home to mom” type you were talking about earlier. She’s so fucking sweet too. Strong, intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous. Why the fuck would she choose me? I’m a trouble maker, an outcast. And shes…..perfect.” Lo’ak confessed before downing the rest of his drink, grabbing the bottle from behind him to fill his cup to the top.

“Lo’ak having…FEELINGS??? Oh my eywa!” Neteyam spoke sarcastically. “How about you just go talk to h-“ Neteyam started before stopping abruptly.

“I’m not going over there! Not until I’m full of alcohol to calm me the fuck d-“ lo’ak started, turning around to be met with you, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

“Hey, lo’ak.” You spoke with your sweet voice, smiling up at him. He was completely stunned, First time he was speechless when it came to girls. He looked down at you, completely tranced by your beauty.

“Hi…” he said emotionless, too focused on getting lost in your eyes. He wanted to drown in them, wanted you to trap him so he wouldn’t have to keep living his life recklessly.

Neteyam and his mate looked at eachother with a lighthearted smile before turning back to the beautiful scene infront of them. Lo’ak….falling in love.

“Well, since you’re in the way. Think you can pour me a drink?” You asked jokingly, nudging your head to the table behind him.

“Umm..i-I uhh-“ he stuttered, tail wagging aggressively behind him, giving away his true feelings without a single word. You giggled, hiding your face with your hand. He shook his head, snapping out of your hypnotic gaze.

“I-im sorry. Umm, sure! Sure, I can pour you a drink.” He spoke in a low tone, grabbing your hand bringing you closer to the table before he turned around to look at the drinks.

“Which one did you want, pretty girl?” He spoke with a small smile, glancing at you before looking back down at the options. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname. Sure, he might’ve called other girls pretty, and you knew that. But it didn’t take away from the fact that he was talking to YOU in this moment.

“Uhhh, whatever is in your cup.” You said, taking the cup out of his hand. “Can I actually just…have yours?” You asked innocently, looking into his eyes. He watched you intently, eyebrow cocked with a light grin.

“You don’t even know what it is, y/n. Taste it first, see if you like it.” He chuckled, untwisting the bottle of the same drink, pouring himself another cup.

“I trust you…” you spoke with a smile, making lo’ak whip his head back to you. He watched you down the drink, small drips flowing out the corner of your mouth, trickling all the way down your chest. You slammed the cup down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“See? I trust you.” You giggled. And just like that, you had him in a trance for the 3rd time tonight. He eyed you up and down, bringing his cup to his mouth, taking a sip before setting it back on the table. He faced you, stepping dangerously close, but you didn’t move. Just stared up into his eyes.

“You’ve got alittle something right here. May I?” He asked, holding his thumb out to wipe your neck. You nodded, not even a word needed to be said. The tension between you two was undeniable. He wrapped his hand around your neck very gently, using his thumb to wipe the access alcohol off of you. You two stared into each others eyes the entire time. Hearts beating in sync as he stepped an inch closer. He detached his hand from your neck, licking his thumb clean.

“Much better.” He spoke in a melodic tone, rattling your eardrums just right. And there you were, falling for his charm just like every other girl. You snapped out of it, crossing your arms, looking up at him with an all-knowing glare.

“No.” Was all you said, shaking your head. “No?” He asked, tilting his head, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I won’t be another one of your one night stands. I refuse!” You raised your voice, pushing him in the chest with a single finger.

“It’s not like that, I swear.” He spoke softly, blinking back tears. His heart sank that you believed he just wanted one thing from you. He couldn’t blame you, but he wished you would just hear him out.

“Yes it is! What? Trying to seduce me or something? Like you do with all the others?” You asked angrily. “I’m not that kind of girl.” You spat, mean mugging him.

“I-I know you’re not that kind of girl, y/n. I wasn’t trying to seduce you or anything like that, I swear. I- I just…like you a lot. I can’t help myself around you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambled, trying his best to convince you that he didn’t mean anything by his actions.

“Suuuure! And I’m supposed to believe you, right? I know you, lo’ak. I know all of your little tricks. And IM NOT FALLING FOR THEM! Got it?” You snapped, gesturing angrily with your hands. He sighed, staring down at you in defeat.

“I get it, y/n.” He spoke in a defeated tone. Ears flat, as he shifted his head down to the ground, blinking back tears again before standing to face you. Your expression softened slightly, watching a single tear fall to the ground before he quickly wiped his eyes.

“Lo’ak?” You asked in shock, reaching up to grab the side of his cheek. He grabbed your wrist gently, placing your hand back to your side.

“No, you’re right. It’s my fault for giving you that impression. I don’t blame you.” He smiled weakly, his puffy eyes telling a different story.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” You said in a apologetic tone, caressing his strong arm. He shook his head, sniffling as if he was sick.

“It’s fine. I’ve gotta go.” He fake smiled, grabbing the entire bottle of alcohol before walking off. “Wait! LO’AK I-“ you shouted, watching him walk off through the crowd of people. You sighed, shutting your eyes tightly before opening them to see Neteyam and his mate in shock.

“What’s wrong with him? Didn’t know he had feelings to hurt.” You spoke in a defeated tone, watching lo’ak drown himself in alcohol from across the forest.

“He has feelings. He just doesn’t know how to express them verbally. Everything is very…physical with him. I don’t think he meant to make you uncomfortable.” Neteyam explained, watching his brother down an entire bottle of alcohol.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like this before, with any other girl. I think he really likes you, y/n. He just needs alittle guidance, that’s all.” Neteyam’s mate spoke, leaning her head back on his chest, shooting you a lighthearted smile.

Did he really like you? Even his brother and his mate said so. They wouldn’t steer you wrong. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like lo’ak too. It’s just the other girls that you had a problem with. There were so many too. You couldn’t compete with that, and you didn’t want to.

The party started to die down, and people started to leave. As the crowd left piece by piece, you saw lo’ak sitting in the corner, still gripping the empty alcohol bottle. His head was hung to the ground as he massaged his forehead, as if he had a headache, or deep in thought. You hesitated, but walked over to him.

“Hey.” You broke the silence, standing infront of him. His head shot up at you immediately, giving you his undivided attention.

“Hey.” He shot you a drunk smile, before throwing his head back down to the ground. You bit your lip in contemplation, trying to think of something else to say. Nothing came to mind. Instead, you held your hand out for him, waiting for him to grab it. He looked at your hand before his eye contact trailed up to your kind expression. “w-what’s this for?” He slurred, pointing to your hand in confusion. You sighed, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“You’re drunk, let me walk you home.” You spoke sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to grab your hand. He sighed, feeling so helpless in this moment. He was supposed to be walking YOU home, not the other way around. He didn’t deserve you. He grabbed your hand, standing up lazily.

“Thank you, y/n. Really.” He spoke in an exhausted tone. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder to maintain some kind of balance. Even though his vision was blurry.

“No problem, lo’ak. Let’s get out of here.” You chuckled, wrapping your arm around his waist, making your way to his hut.

The walk to his hut was mostly silent, minus the times you two stopped so he could throw up. And you were right there with him, holding his hair up, and patting his back. He’d apologize that you had to see him like that, and you’d just wipe his mouth with the napkins you brung specifically for this reason.

When you finally got to his hut, you weren’t surprised at the mess. You walked over the bottle cans, and empty alcohol bottles to lay him down on his cot.

“You ok?” You asked, pushing a strand of hair off of his sweaty forehead. Smiling down at him as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “Mhm.” He hummed, smiling at you drunkenly as his eyes opened and closed lazily.

“Get some sleep, ok?” You spoke softly, caressing his cheek. You turned around, taking in the filthy room around you.

“You know, you should really clean up, lo’ak.” You said sternly, picking up all of the empty cans on his floor, throwing them in the trash bag by the door. Then you proceeded to fold his loincloths, placing them in the drawer nice and neatly. He rolled over just to watch you clean his hut. No girl had ever done that for him, not that they should. But it was nice of you to do. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it by himself, it overwhelmed him. And he rarely spent time in his hut because the mess made him feel worse about himself. So to watch you clean it for him, helped him in ways he couldn’t even explain if he had the time to.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He shook his head in disappointment at himself, feeling more defeated than he ever has.

“Don’t worry about it, I wanted to.” You smiled, closing his drawer before dusting your hands off. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.” You said, nodding your head as you made your way to his hut door. Every step felt like a knife to the heart, because he wanted nothing more than for you to stay with him.

“Y/n?” He muttered, but loud enough for you to hear. You stopped in your tracks, hoping that this would be the moment he asked you to stay, just so you could monitor him for the night. You turned back to him. “Yes?” You asked, voice full of hope. He hesitated, but it was now or never, and he chose now.

“Stay with me? I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll even sleep on the floor, and let you have the cot just….please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. You closed the hut door, walking over to his cot, bending down to become eye level with him.

“You’ve got something comfortable for me to wear?” You asked sarcastically with a lighthearted smile. He chuckled, sitting up on the edge of the bed before standing to his full height. He walked over to the drawer and picked out an oversized T-shirt, bringing it over to you.

“Let me guess. From the lab, huh?” You asked with a small chuckle, grabbing the shirt out of his hands. He smiled down at you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “How many girls have worn THIS one?” You asked, stepping dangerously close to him. So close that your breasts laid against his stomach. Eyebrow cocked as you untied your loincloth, letting it drop to the ground. Yet and still, he kept his eyes glued on yours, not even attempting to look at your naked body.

“None. I’ve been saving it.” He said In his same melodic tone. You tilted your head as if he was bullshitting you. You untied your top, but it stayed in place between you and lo’aks embrace.

“Oh yeah? Saving it for what?” You asked in a sarcastic tone, backing up slightly to let your top fall. He licked his lips, still keeping his eyes locked on yours, like the gentlemen he was learning to be. “For my future mate. So go ahead and put it on already.” He whispered, holding your chin with his finger.

His future mate? You didn’t even know lo’ak wished to be mated the way he tossed girls around. Who knew it would be you that could possibly change him?

“I’m not fucking you, lo’ak.” You tilted your head, with a small smirk. His eyes narrowed, letting your chin go.

“I wasn’t planning on fucking you either.” He titled his head, a smirk creeping across his face. You were almost offended. What did he mean by that?

“Sooo, you don’t want to fuck me?” You asked confused. He chuckled, stepping alittle closer, If that was even possible.

“Never said that.” He responded. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, with a devilish smirk. You almost gave in right there, but you had a feeling this was one of his games. And if you were being honest, you understood why so many girls fell for it.

“Yes- I MEAN…NO!….NO! NO! NO!” You shouted, pushing him away slightly. Pulling his shirt onto your body. He laughed, watching you scramble in-front of him.

“Suuure.” He said sarcastically, brushing past you to get back on his cot, getting comfortable. He patted the cot, signaling for you to come lay next to him. You walked over, climbing into the cot, facing him.

“To be completely clear, you didn’t want to fuck, right?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you. “LO’AK!” You shouted, your voice muffled by his broad chest. He laughed, caressing your back.

“I joke, I joke!” He chuckled, shutting his eyes. “Lo’ak?” You asked, wiggling in his embrace to get more comfortable. “Yes, y/n?” He smiled, holding you a little closer to him.

“What are we doing?” You asked hesitantly. He kissed the top of your head, drawing circles in your lower back.

“We’re sleeping. Get some rest. Let’s talk in the morning.” He responded, sighing before shutting his eyes once more. You smiled into his chest, planting a small kiss.

“Goodnight, lo’ak.” You whispered before drifting off to sleep. “Goodnight, y/n.” He spoke in a deep voice, before drifting off to sleep as well, faster than he’s ever had, finally finding that comfort he’d been searching for all along.

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar loak #loak headcanons #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak smut #loak sully #loak #loak x you #loak x tsireya #loak imagine #loak fluff #loak angst #loak fic #loak fanfiction

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sleepingdeath-light · 3 months

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relationship hcs ; lucifer morningstar

requested by ; mod / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; lucifer morningstar

outline ; “dating headcanons for lucifer”

note ; this may be a touch out of character as i’ve never written for him before, but hopefully you’re all able to enjoy this piece either way ^^

warning(s) ; brief mentions to canon angst and one mildly suggestive bit, but mostly fluff!

after having a several thousand year long marriage fall apart on him and experiencing a strained relationship with his only child for a good number of years after that, it’s only natural that lucifer would struggle with letting himself fall in love and move on — both because he doesn’t want to risk pushing charlie away and because, well, despite being the prince of pride he has a lot of issues relating to his past and he’s worried about messing things up and losing someone else he loves

that’s not to say that courting the king of hell is impossible, far from it in fact, but that you just need to be patient with him — let him move at his own pace, he’s been out of the dating game for a while after all (if you could ever even consider him as being ‘in it’ at all given the unique circumstances under which he met his first wife)

despite being the embodiment of ‘pride’, he does deal with a great deal of insecurity and anxiety — about everything from his parenting to his creations to his relationship with you and even far beyond that — so any kind of verbal reassurance or praise will go a long way with him and will always be received with a great deal of warmth and gratitude

whisper about how much you love him as you hold him in your arms late in the evenings or early in the mornings, when you’re laying in bed and half asleep — making sure that you’re starting and ending each day on a positive, private, warm note no matter what happens between the ‘now’ and ‘then’

gush about his latest invention as you visit him in his workshop, commenting excitedly at each new feature and animatedly gesturing towards his whole collection of creations with nothing but genuine enthusiasm and awe written across your features — make sure he knows that his craftsmanship and efforts will never go unnoticed or unappreciated by you so long as he wants you by his side

encourage him to take those leaps of faith that he’d otherwise be too jaded or anxious to take on his own: hold his hand and help him find the strength to call up his daughter just to chat and give them their privacy once he’s back in his element and fully engaged with the conversation, give him a pep-talk before his latest meeting with heaven and their new emissary and promise that you’re only a text or call away if it gets too much for him (he’s never taken up your offer, but the promise always helps to calm his nerves), and just be there to push him forwards as his partner and be there to catch him if things don’t go his way

praise him for all of the features you love until his face is tinged a beautiful shade of red, his wings are all fluffed up, and he’s too flustered to even look you in the eye — compliment the angelic and the demonic, the human and inhuman, make sure there’s no doubt left in his mind that you’re completely and utterly infatuated with him in body, mind, and soul

oh and make no mistake this gentleman gives as good as he gets and he could easily spend days at a time talking about every little thing about you that he adores, every minor habit or quirk that most people wouldn’t even notice that makes his whole day that much brighter — there’s no room for any self doubt or self hatred when you’re in a relationship with this fallen angel because he loves you so deeply, so wholly, that you’ll inevitably start to love yourself that bit more through him

it’s extremely important to him that you get to know charlie and that she approves of your relationship — his daughter is his world, his everything, and as much as he adores you, he will not risk pushing her away again for any reason (as much as it would kill him inside to have to walk away from you)

that being said, charlie will inevitably end up really liking you and making an effort to get to know this person who her dad talks about all the time, making it abundantly clear that she approves of you and would be happy to have you in her life as her dad’s partner — and maybe another parental figure in her life depending on how things go, how your relationship with her evolves, and whether you prefer to be her ‘step parent’ or just her friend who happens to be dating her dad (she doesn’t mind either way, she just wants him to be happy)

between his angelic powers, extreme wealth, and prominent status in hell, lucifer is more than capable of spoiling you completely rotten — like as long as you’re with him, you’ll never want or need for anything as long as it’s within his abilities to get for you (whether that’s something more traditional like jewellery, clothes, books, or food, or something more niche and related to something you’re interested in, like a tool to help you engage in a hobby or a specific item you’ve been looking for to add to your collection)

he’s also not above just outright making you things as gifts — of course there are his ducks which he’s more than happy to share with you, but he’s also a pretty good cook and will make you breakfast in bed as a treat or as a way to cheer you up if you’ve been having a rough time

on a related note, this man goes all out for your anniversaries and on your birthday — he just… really loves being able to take care of you, that’s all

and despite all of that he still keeps each and every gift and card you give him — has a whole drawer dedicated to your letters and your gifts are scattered around the palace, with particularly sentimental items being kept in his bedroom and workshop

there are two pictures that he keeps on him at all times: one of him and charlie taken shortly after he helped rebuild the hotel and settled into his personal room there, and another of the two of you taken on your first anniversary of a couple — he regularly takes them out to help keep him motivated throughout the day, especially if his day has been rather draining for one reason or another

he’s extremely physically affectionate and gives the most amazing hugs — he uses his arms and his wings to hold you close and keep you warm and when you’re laying down it’s extremely easy for you to just fall asleep in his arms if you don’t make a conscious effort to stay awake and in the moment with him

his kisses can go a couple of different ways depending on his mood and the setting you’re in:

he can be gentlemanly and chaste if you’re in a formal setting or otherwise somewhere that requires him to uphold a certain image — limiting himself to brief pecks on the back of your hand, your cheeks, or your knuckles if he’s feeling especially bold (doing enough to show that you’re his partner but not enough that his ‘kingly’ persona is threatened)

he can also be very sweet and playful if you’re at home or around close friends and family — peppering kisses along your neck and jawline, kissing your lips and cheeks whilst brushing his fingers along your ticklish spots, nuzzling his ‘nose’ against yours before kissing you, etc. (showing affection in ways that are enough to make you laugh and lean into him, but not enough that he’d be making your loved ones uncomfortable by being a bit too intimate)

last but not least, he can also be passionate and intense when the two of you are alone and he’s practically aching to feel your lips on his — wet, open mouthed kisses against your lips, trailing slow kisses from the inside of your wrists up your arm whilst looking you in the eye, trailing his lips down your throat and alternating between kissing and playfully biting at your skin (nipping and marking at your pulse point every time without fail), trailing his mouth lower and lower until you’re so frustrated all you can do is pull him up by his collar and crash your lips against his own (making sure that you know that you’re desired as well as loved whilst also being a bit playful about getting what he wants from you)

he always makes sure that he’s able to spend some quality time with you each day beyond just your sleeping hours — whether that means planning a proper date, meeting up for lunch between meetings, or stopping by wherever you are at the time via teleportation just to check in and make sure everything’s okay

lucifer has a wide variety of pet names that he uses with you — this includes the classics like ‘sweetheart’, ‘angel’, and ‘love’, as well as some more personalised ones like ‘duckie’, and more humorous ones that he comes up with on the spot to make you laugh and smile — and he loves any nickname that you ascribe to him no matter how ridiculous other people may find them

more than happy to show you off to all of hell as his beloved partner and their future monarch that will be reigning by his side one day — he’s more than capable of defending you from any threats himself and the palace is well protected so he has absolutely no reservations about making it known to every demon and sinner that you belong to him, and that he belongs to you

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #fluff #fluff hcs #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel lucifer fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

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mysadcorner · 10 months

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Sebastian Michaelis x Reader x Claude Faustus Headcanons

-Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

Masterlist Navigation

• Both demons obsessed over you - potential mate situation - Both Sebastian and Claude would have realised their attachment towards you very early on, since they’re both very quick and are dragged towards you by something their demon qualities only allow. It would be hard to accept that the other demon is also potentially drawn towards you (especially if it’s a “mate” kind of situation) but dragging you away from the other would be virtually impossible.

• If you’re a normal human then the situation would be even worse for you than if you had been a demon surrounded by Sebastian and Claude. You get put in harms way quite often at the beginning of their attachment towards you due to how much they fight, but after realising that they don’t want you hurt they’ll keep their disagreements private or send sarcastic comments and glares to each other when you’re around.

• If the two of them do decide to share their time with you, this would end with a lot of difficulty. An official timetable would have to be made between them so that no time is unfairly stolen (which would result in practically a war) and they’d hate the thought of you spending time with the other demon when you’re apart from them.

• Both Sebastian and Claude do not get along with each other, and unfortunately their division over you only fuels this. They probably wouldn’t be able to stand each other, and hold thoughts of stealing you away from the other demon in a way that was willingly so that the other has no basis to argue.

• It’s always going to be a competition as to who can treat you better, and this probably will never end even if they do come to a mutual form of mild respect. They both hate the thought of the other giving you better treatment, so if anything this results in you being absolutely pampered (more than their respective lords) if you ignore their bickering.

• Alois is more likely to get involved, rather than Ciel, as they would be more than happy for Claude and Sebastian to get along. Not only does that seem to make Claude more manageable, but it also means that there is more company within the manor and they’re able to interact with someone completely new on a regular basis. Almost like a free friend.

• Once the two of them are forced to be around one another for your sake, they’ll gradually become more accustomed to each other. They wouldn’t do this willingly though, it would most likely be Alois’ intervention which keeps the tree of you in close proximity for a long time until they come to a mutual agreement about their behaviour.

• After this it would be much easier for Sebastian and Claude to share their time with you, since they had gotten used to being around each other and interacting with you simultaneously without any problems which gradually got rid of how much they despised each other. Ciel wouldn’t want to constantly be around Alois though, so Sebastian wouldn’t often come to their manor leaving you to be shared amongst both households until they’re reading for public outings with you.

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stickyspeckledlight · 2 months

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Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]

The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.

Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)

Ao3

The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.

But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.

Chat: Limits

"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."

Chat: Lovely Things

“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.

Chat: Change

“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”

Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People

“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”

How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.

They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.

Chat: Willful Ignorance

“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”

But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.

#yandere #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #Topaz #Dr Ratio #hsr dr ratio #dr veritas ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio hsr #hsr aventurine #hsr topaz #topaz hsr #honkai star rail #Destroyed Onset #Yandere aventurine x reader

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salty-croissants · 6 months

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this is extremely unnecessarily long, but if it's okay, can I request separate hcs for Bullfrog and Rayman (+ Ramon if it's cool) with a touch-starved, easily flustered and insecure yet passionate fem!reader (who can also REALLY kick ass or speak up when others have messed with the ones she loves) as their friend / s/o (who might or might not be on the spectrum, likes to rant or infodump a LOT about medias that she likes such as games, shows or horror media, who also loves drawing herself with the ones she loves and giving them small things randomly in a way to make them feel better, like snacks, drawings of them, or even something they thought of getting beforehand) ?

Thank you for the request !

Don’t worry , the length was okay ! Since it was very detailed it was fun to work with it :D

Hope it turned out okay !

Details : use of female reader ;

established relationships ;

no warnings needed , other than a bit of a suggestive line in Ramon’s part

Bullfrog 💚

Bullfrog is a very loving boyfriend , so when you tell him you’re touch-starved he is going to make it his mission to shower you with affection all the time …

And when I mean all the time , I’m being very serious :

as soon as you wake up , he’s going to cuddle you as long as he can ;

you’re both going somewhere , either a mission or just doing something outside ? He will be holding your hand the whole time ;

you had a bad day or are feeling tired ? You better believe Bullfrog is going to be holding you in his arms the whole time to help you feel better …

Yeah , no force of nature is going to stop him from displaying his love for you , so … yep , better be ready !

If you ever feel insecure about yourself or your relationship , Bullfrog is quick to solve any of your doubts …

< I don’t know … what if you really would be better off with somebody else instead of - >

< y/n , chérie , you’re the only one for me .

Nobody else will ever able to make me feel this way , how could I possibly want to leave someone who is beautiful in every way ? >

He is in love with all the drawings you make featuring the two of you together , and he holds onto each one of them very dearly …

They have been made by his beloved just for him after all , so Bullfrog is going to cherish them forever .

He also carries some of them with him when he goes on very dangerous missions , keeping them carefully folded in his pocket : he really does think that having a symbol of your love for him by his side will bring him good luck .

As always , Bullfrog is always so happy to listen to you talking about all of your various interests , and it’s not rare for him to start getting into them thanks to you .

< Would it be okay to watch that series finale tonight ? It’s completely fine if you’re busy - >

< Non , that would be wonderful mon amour ! We don’t have any more missions left , and besides I’m really curious to see what will happen after that cliffhanger ! >

The way he supports your passion always brings a smile on your face … which is what Bullfrog strives for every day : to see you as happy as you can be ://)

Rayman 🧡

Since he is often very busy with his shows , Rayman can’t always be around to give you affection … but you can be sure that as soon as he comes home to you he will not be letting you go for hours .

< Oh y/n … I missed you so much , I’ve been looking forward to this all day … >

Those sweet little moments he gets to spend with you are more valuable to him than anything else , and Rayman loves to demonstrate it by showering you with kisses , enjoying your adorable reactions to them .

< Aw , you look so cute when you’re blushing honey ~ >

< Pfft - stooop ~ >

Indeed … if you’re someone that gets flustered easily you better prepare yourself , because this man will be complimenting you and every little thing you do at all times .

Rayman really just wants you to know that you’re the most important person in his life , the one who saved him from a life of loneliness … he really wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you were gone .

However , there are also ways to fluster him instead :

for example if you ever were to stand up for him when somebody is being a douchebag about his species , Rayman will be completely head over heels for you …

< y/n , thank you for what you said back there …

It really meant a lot . >

< No need to thank me , Ray ! I couldn’t just stand there and let that random guy say all that stuff about you … what kind of girlfriend would let that slide ? >

< Heh … you’re amazing sweetie .

I love you so much ~ >

Similarly to Bullfrog , Rayman definitely keeps all the drawings you make for him , hanging them in his office : no matter what anyone’s opinion is , the art made by his sweetheart will all stay right there on the walls , and that’s final .

He will also be gushing about it to anyone who asks …

< Oh , that ? My beautiful y/n made it for me … isn’t she just so talented ? >

Rayman remembers all of your interests in full detail , and sometimes he likes to surprise you by buying you gifts related to them , or even more …

< *gasp* oh my god - is that a ticket for that movie I really wanted to watch ? >

< It sure is ! Looks like the Directors haven’t scheduled anything for tomorrow , so I was thinking we could go watch it today … does that sound good ? >

< It sounds perfect ! Thank you my love , thank you so much ! ~ >

< It’s the least I could do for you , darling … I just want to see you smile , that’s all that matters to me . >

Ramon 🖤

After everything that’s happened , Ramon has definitely become a lot more protective of you , which means he will be by your side pretty much all the time :

holding you close to him and feeling your warmth calms him down , so if you’re touch starved it’s an absolute win .

… tough sometimes he might get a bit too attached .

< Ram , honey , I have to go to the bathroom … could you , you know … let me get up for a second ? >

< Hmmpf … >

< Pretty please ? ~ >

< Okay okay … just … come back soon . >

< I will , don’t worry . >

Knowing how easy it is to make you flustered , Ramon is definitely going to have a fun time just sneaking behind you and start whispering sweet nothings in your ear , using that deep , raspy voice that he knows will make your whole face turn red …

< You look so pretty , y/n … sometimes I could just eat you up …

I might do just that , actually ~ >

The way you blush is just so cute … Ramon can’t help but want to see that lovely face of yours every day .

Ramon likes to sit next to you while you draw , silently watching you and all the little expressions you make when you’re focused …

Every piece you make that features him will be kept somewhere safe , maybe something close to an album , so that he’ll be able to look at it whenever you’re away or if he’s not having the best day : seeing such a sincere display of your love for him never fails to bring him joy , and it makes him even more determined to keep you safe no matter what .

While he likes to stay quiet when you discuss about your interest , Ramon is going to remember every little thing you tell him , and this gets demonstrated when the two of you are watching either a series or a movie you like .

< Hm , that’s the character we saw at the beginning , right ? The one that you mentioned we’d see yesterday ? >

< Oh - you remember I told you that ? >

< Mhm , I always remember everything say to me … I love listening to you . >

< Hehe … thank you , Ramon …

I love you ~ >

< Love you too , y/n … and I’ll love you always ~ >

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #bullfrog x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #rayman #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #female reader

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

What types my favourite Game Of Thrones characters would fall for

Includes Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne Of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tormund Giantsbane

————————————————————————

Robb Stark:

Robin Stark is 100% the person to fall for personality rather than looks. And something he has always admired, is someone with a creative mind. In the North, there is a lot of pessimism and realism. There isn’t much room for glee, daydreaming and imagination. So when he first meets you in one of the garden, writing away in your own notebook filled with words of your own worlds and thoughts, he is intrigued. Of course, you are adamant about talking about your work, let alone show it. But Robb is patient. He spends every single day talking to you, entertaining you and even accompanying you on walks. This man is completely gone for you. So, when you ultimately decide to give him a sneak peek, his entire face lights up. And your writing? It’s insane. He needs a library filled with your books right now. He is constantly asking about new ideas, even offering some, though they’re usually a tad bit….dark. But he tries! Will absolutely brag about it to others. He knows you don’t like to show everyone, but he will definitely let others know that his significant other can write. Don’t ever shut up about your ideas and prompts. This man wants to hear all of them. Every single one, even the late night cold sweat dream ones.

——

Sansa Stark:

Sansa can be rough around the edges. And who is to blame her after all she’s been dragged through? She needs someone who will look at things the kinder way, yet be decisive. Someone who can make interest out of the best of their heart. Sansa deals with issues from a neutral perspective, unless it is something close to her. But she can use a compassionate look at things. Then, all the same, she needs a supporting shoulder constantly. Someone who is able to slightly alter her decisions, but still let her do the main thing. If she wishes to have someone punished, they will. But all in good due. When the sun sets, she can let her guard down and rant about all the issues on her mind. She needs a confidential person for that, and who better than you? A comforting hand, a loving embrace, a gentle kiss. A good nice rest in the arms of those she loves most.

——

Jon Snow:

Jon has humour. He does. It’s hidden, but he does. And we saw how he was with Ygritte. Make him laugh in any way, and his heart can - and will - skip a beat. Whether it is because you are clumsy, childish, mischievous, or simply hilarious. He adores you. Something like you in the North is rare, and he plans on treasuring it for as long as he can. And when there is a day you won’t be laughing or trying to make others laugh, he grows concerned so quickly. It’s all fun and jokes until you stop laughing. All over you, constantly. Hiding you under his robe, standing in front of you the entire time, shooting you reassuring glances and smiles, reaching for your arm often to check if you’re still there. He does it. It’s those little gestures that grow so endearing, that you cannot help but smile at him. And that’s honestly all he needs.

——

Oberyn Martell:

Give him a charismatic partner. Someone who teases him back twice as hard, returns his pick up lines and messes with him from time to time. Play around with him and tug on his heart strings just a little too tight. He loves it. Playful smiles, far-off winking, stares at each other from the other side of the room. He was taken with you when your eyes first met his. He immediately knew there was this something about you. He’ll introduce you to others constantly, even if you are not around. You don’t know he does this, but he is so enamoured with you, he wants to announce it to everyone, even though that might not always be as clever. You’re being under protection the entire time, even from a distance. He has to make sure you are safe, constantly. If something were to happen to you, he’d never forgive himself.

——

Margaery Tyrell:

Margaery is a very artistic person. She grow up with artists all around her, and though she is somewhat skilled herself, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t admire the others. You’d have met in her home castle, working on one of your pieces when she simply walks in. Initially, she had the rooms mixed up, but she remained once she found your projects. She was a princess: you couldn’t tell her to get out. Of a room. Of a palace. Which her family owns. She starts taking immediately, apologising for entering the wrong room, but then moving on to your works decorating the walls. It is a whole different technique than she is used to, and it is somewhat entrancing. She’ll ask for inspiration, motivation and all those things, genuinely curious about your manner of working. From that day, she shows up twice a day, once with lunch, once without anything. Those talks made her fall for you at first; not your art, not your looks - though that was a win -, but you passion about your hobbies and career. And seeing you so motivated about her, awes her so much.

——

Brienne Of Tarth:

BIG STRONG WOMAN GOES WHOOSH. But when big strong woman sees compassionate and kind significant other, she grows all soft. She’ll do anything to grab your attention, though she will be hesitant at first. She has dealed with a lot of prejudice and harmful words throughout her life, and she fears you will reject her. Deep down, she knows you wouldn’t. You couldn’t even harm a fly. But she’s insecure. Yet, the second you choose to talk to her after seeing her countless attempts, she freezes completely. You’re actually talking to her? Thoughts everywhere. No words whatsoever. You observe her when she’s training, stay by her side when she is travelling, and offer to clean her wounds after fights. And it’s so intimate and endearing, and Brienne grows so flustered of it every single time. There will never be a day she wouldn’t. Big strong woman turns into mush.

——

Daenerys Targaryen:

Daenerys is definitely the person who is interested in all kinds of cultures and arts. And what better way to introduce those to her than to write music about it? You’d accompany her on her journey to Westeros, offering entertainment and music on the ships and walks. Whether you can sing or play an instrument, it doesn’t matter to her. But when she first met you on that square, trying to earn a little bit of money for your family, she immediately offered shelter and food. And ever since, you have been with her. You’ll be sitting on your bed, creating your own musical piece, and she’ll simply join you, her hand resting on your lap as a silent encouragement, and - if possible - her head on your shoulder, staring out of the windows in simple bliss. After everything she’s been through and is going through, you are her rock; her one place she can be safe and let go for a short moment.

——

Tormund Giantsbane:

Ironically enough, I’d think he’d go really well with someone incredibly stubborn. Someone who is set to do things their own way and will do anything to get it. He falls head over heels for looks primarily, but the confidence you radiate in your speech and actions actually stuns him. You go against him or Jon? He isn’t insulted. Kind of turned on, which he wouldn’t admit to you. Jon knows all about it though. But you can, weirdly enough, intimidate him. You’re so sure of yourself, it makes him doubt himself. Surely you wouldn’t need someone like him? It is not that he gets insecure about it, not at all, he simply hesitates his attitude towards you. The last thing he wants is for you to grow pissed at him and never look at him again. He couldn’t live with that. Once you two do get together, it is like fire and fire. Usually, that would be a bad thing, but your playful banter, teasing looks and general breathtaking combination is something to actually die for.

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literaryavenger · 5 months

Text

Broken - final part

Summary: The wait for Bucky's trial is finally over.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: this is the last part of this story! I had originally planned on making it much longer but I honestly didn't have many ideas to go on, so I decided to use the ideas I did have and end it there. So here it is, hope you like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

Slowly you start to forgive the team, starting with Peter that came to you one afternoon handing you some flowers and a teddy bear as an apology and making your heart melt. How can you stay mad at such a sweet boy?

After about a month you're back on speaking terms with everyone, except Steve and Tony.

For some reason you can't get over the fact that they started the whole civil war and were the ones to decide to cut you out of it.

Everyone tried to make you see things from their side, even Thor and Bruce that were back from New Asgard along with Loki, who couldn’t care less about the whole situation but kind of enjoyed the chaos.

After that night with Bucky’s nightmare you talked more about pretty much any subject, and he came to you everytime he needed comfort.

Bucky also isn't able to keep his hands to himself anymore, not that you mind, a feat that did not go unnoticed by the team.

You never miss the knowing looks they give each other every time Bucky hugs you or randomly grabs your hand.

Even though you couldn't bring yourself to forgive Steve yet, you start being around him more and more especially after Bucky asked you to start coming with him to his meetings with Fury.

The closer it gets to his hearing, the more touchy Bucky seems to be with you, as if his hands on you is the only thing that keeps him grounded to reality.

The day before his hearing Bucky can't get himself away from you, following you everywhere since you woke up in the same bed, a thing that started to happen more and more every time he had a nightmare.

Some nights going as far as going to sleep directly in your room without even stepping foot in his.

Steve bides his time the whole day, trying to choose his moment, which came in the early afternoon when you left Bucky on Scott's floor with Cassie while you went to yours to get some Pop Tarts for Cassie since, not surprisingly, Thor finished the ones in their kitchen.

Scott thought that spending time with Cassie, which Bucky has come to be very fond of, would help the super soldier take his mind off the trial, and he was right.

When you get to your floor, and Steve sees you're alone, he doesn't think twice about approaching you.

He's speaking before you even have a chance to realize what's happening. "Listen, I know we’re not in the best terms right now, but I want to talk to you about Bucky."

As much as you want to ignore him you know he really cares about his best friend. And since he’s been nothing but respectful of your decision to avoid him, you think that him actively seeking you out means this is important.

So you nod at him to go on and, with a relief sigh that you're actually gonna listen to him, he does. "Here’s the thing, we both know Bucky’s been through a lot…" he starts, choosing his words carefully as to not give his best friend away completely.

"He’s been doing so much better, and even I realize that’s largely thanks to you." you’re about to protest, but he raises his hand to stop you. "It is. We all see how he is when you’re around, but you don’t see how he is while you’re away on missions. He’s like a puppy just waiting for you to come back, brooding away everytime someone that isn’t you walks through the door."

You can tell he’s trying very hard not to smile as he thinks about it, but fails miserably, before shaking his head a little and getting back on track.

"Anyway, my point is you’re important to him. Tomorrow is gonna be a really hard day for Bucky and I want to thank you for being there for him. Not just for the trial, but for everything I know you do for him. And, I realize it might not be my place to say but, as the only family Buck has left, I feel like I have to tell you: please be careful with him. After everything he’s been through the last thing he needs is to get his heart broken."

Steve knows maybe he said a little too much, but he needs to know Bucky's in good hands. Even if he does trust you with his life, he also wants to know he can trust you with his best friend’s heart.

He doesn't expect you to answer, your face staying neutral the whole time he spoke, and he's about to turn away when you basically throw yourself at him, giving him the tightest hug he’s had since you started avoiding him.

All you can think about was how glad you are that Bucky has someone who cares about him as much as Steve does.

Now more than ever you can see Steve’s reasons behind his choices, how he was motivated by his love for a guy he sees as a brother, the only family he has left.

You get it, you truly do, but seeing it makes you almost cry on Bucky’s behalf.

"I promise you the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him." is all you say as you let go, a wordless understanding between you both that you forgive him.

You grab the pop tarts you came here for and go back to an awaiting Bucky and Cassie, who are wearing tiaras and giggling making your heart melt.

The rest of the day goes fast and soon you’re getting into bed with Bucky, not wanting to sleep by himself tonight.

"Hey," he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I just want to say, in case things go wrong tomorrow-"

"Don’t say that, Buck." you interrupt him. "Everything’s gonna be okay, and you’ll come home a free man." you say firmly.

"Doll, we both know there’s a very real chance that I’ll be found guilty and sent back to the Raft. If that happens, I don’t think I’d be able to live without you knowing this…"

Before he can say anything else, you put your hand on his mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Don’t say anything, please. You can tell me tomorrow, after we come back home together."

You can tell he’s trying really hard to hold himself back, but eventually he agrees and you take your hand away, getting more comfortable in his arms and falling asleep in each other’s embrace for what Bucky prays won’t be the last time.

The next morning comes and Bucky’s a bundle of nerves, so worried that time seems to go by in a flash.

Suddenly he’s in a courtroom, asking the judge to please repeat his rouling one more time.

A full pardon.

He can’t believe it. Yes, he has to go to court mandated therapy and has a probation period to go through with the team, but still.

Now he feels like time’s going in slow motion, all he can see it’s you as he turns to your seat next to him. You hug him with tears in your eyes as you tell him how proud you are of him and that you knew he was gonna be okay.

Somehow, you made it real for him. Hearing you acknowledge it makes him believe it and then he’s crying too, not able to hold back.

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, making you let go of each other and turn to him, a smile so big on his face that you can see all his stupidly perfect teeth.

You all finally get home and, as soon as you enter the living room on your shared floor, you hear a chorus of “congratulations!” followed by loud noises and confetti falling everywhere.

You’re as shocked as Bucky and, as you turn to Steve you see a surprised look on his face too, which turns confused when he looks at you mirroring his own reaction, the same question in the tip of both of your tongues.

But before you can ask each other, Bucky beats you both to it.

"Did you do this for me?" he's amazed, overjoyed and then as confused as you when you both shake your heads no.

Then the mystery is revealed.

"I did it." All three of you are shocked when you turn around to the voice, thinking you were imagining it, to find a very real Tony Stark standing in front of you, the rest of the team behind him.

"You did this?" you have to make sure you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I did. I’m amazing, get over it." And with that Tony walks away towards the bar. There he is.

You turn to Bucky and Steve and since all they do is stare at you, you just shrug and go to join the rest of the team in celebration, the super soldiers right behind you.

You joke and laugh and dance all together for hours, until eventually you find yourselves sitting scattered around the living room, various conversations going at the same time.

You're sitting on Bucky’s lap, his arms around you and your head on his chest as he jokes with Steve and Sam when you notice Tony going behind the bar, where nobody else is.

You feel the need to follow him so you kiss Bucky in the cheek and tap his arms twice signaling him to let go of you. When he does, somewhat reluctantly, you get up and walk after Tony.

You lean on the bar, crossing your arms in front of your chest. But before you can say anything he speaks, not even bothering to turn around.

"Don’t need to thank me, Cyborg deserves it.- You roll your eyes at the nickname, but decide to let it go for the time being.

"So what, you’re his biggest fan now?" You know you were kind of pushing it, but you just need to know what changed.

He turns around and you get ready for him to yell at you again, but instead he smiles in a way that was too sweet not to be genuine. Yep, Tony Stark is full of surprises.

"I’m not. But I see the way he looks at you." you raise your eyebrow at him.

"How does he look at me?"

"It's the same way I look at Pepper." He answers without skipping a beat. "I know he knows he's not good enough for you, but I can see he's trying to be. That's all I could ask for." he shrugs and turns back around.

You know he means it, as much of a genius as he is, even he couldn’t come up with a lie like that, that fast.

You stare at the back of his head while he works on his drink, both of you thinking of a way to approach the next subject the right way.

When he turns back to you he puts a glass in front of you, your favorite drink in it, and takes a sip of his own drink. After a few more moments of silence, he decides to speak first.

"I’m sorry. For keeping the whole war thing from you and for how I treated Barnes. I had a lot of time to think about it, I read all the Hydra reports we found on him, I rewatched the footage… I can see now it really was out of his control. I shouldn’t have blamed him for something he had no way of stopping. And I shouldn’t have kept something so big from you. I really am sorry."

You’re glad he finally sees things the way you do, but you can’t help yourself as you say "I appreciate it, and I forgive you, but I’m not the one you have to apologize to."

"Trust me, I know." he sighs. "Pepper already gave me the speech…" he says sheepishly.

God, you love that woman.

He makes his way around the bar and stops in front of you.

He gives you a hug and whispers in your ear. "I’m doing this for you, too. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me and I need you to know I meant everything I just said.-"

You’re a little confused at what he’s talking about until he lets go of you and walks towards the couch where Buck’s still talking to Sam and Steve.

"Bucky," he starts, and the room goes silent "I just want you to know that I’m sorry for blaming you for my parents’ death. And it’s not just because the government believes you’re innocent, after everything I’ve learned about your situation the past month I can’t not believe you were a victim and still call myself a genius. I also read some of dad’s old journals from when he worked with the Howling Commandos... You guys were friends. I realize you wouldn’t have hurt him if you had a choice. And I’m also sorry for the name calling, Terminator."

You roll your eyes with a smile at his last sentence while the others snickered at the nickname.

You go to stand next to Tony and wrap your arm around his waist and, when he wraps his around your shoulders and looks down at you, you gave him a squeeze, letting him know you're grateful to him for doing this.

You look at Bucky who doesn’t quite know what to say so you let go of Tony and make your way to sit back down on his lap, his arms going around your waist automatically. That seems to snap him out of it.

"Thank you, Tony. You don’t have to apologize, I understand why you were angry, but I appreciate it. Howard was a good man, he didn’t deserve an end like that." Tony doesn't say anything back, merely nodding and going to sit next to Pepper.

Well, that’s a start.

Everyone goes back to their own conversations and you turn back to Bucky, who's already looking up at you.

"Thank you." he says low enough so only you can hear.

"I didn’t do anything, it was all him. I told you, anyone with a functioning brain can see that you’re a good person." you tell him with a smile.

He smiles back at you, holding you tighter as you lay your head back on his shoulder while looking at your friends talking and laughing amongst each other. You're happy that things are back to normal, with the added bonus of Bucky finally being completely free.

The party eventually ends and the living room slowly empties out, the last people remaining being you, Bucky and Steve.

"Well, I’m going to sleep. You guys should too, today’s been a long day." Steve says, giving Bucky one last pat on the shoulder and, with a smile to the both of you, he gets up and leaves.

You’re sitting in a comfortable silence, not really feeling the need to get up just yet, when you feel Bucky leave a soft kiss against your shoulder, which makes you sit up a little straighter and turn to look at him, your arms going around his neck.

"We still have a conversation to finish… Are you gonna let me talk now?" He's much more confident than he was last night and you nod, curiosity now taking over you.

"Great… I’m just gonna get to the point. I like you, doll. The longer I spend time with you, the more I feel like myself. I feel at peace, like the last 70 years never happened because I know that’s not what you see when you look at me. You’ve never been scared of me, never looked at me like I was a monster. You spend time with me because you want to, not because you have to. You don’t mind having me around even when we don’t talk and all I do is look at you. You comfort me when I’m sad, calm me down when I have a panic attack and hold me until I fall asleep after I have a nightmare. You never judge me or make me feel guilty or like I’m too much, and you never push me to talk about anything, you’re always patient and let me take my time. I truly appreciate everything you do for me and I need you to know that. And to be clear, when I say I like you I mean it in the ‘I’d like to take you out on a date’ way."

You’re almost crying now, your heart melting as you look at an expectant Bucky. You honestly have no words to reply, so you do the only thing you can think of.

You lean down and kiss him softly, feeling him kiss you back almost right away, his lips are so soft you almost moan into the kiss. After a few moments you pull away, forehead resting against his.

"I really hope that means you like me back." he says with a goofy smile, making you giggle.

"Yes, I like you too." you gave him another kiss. "You make me feel seen. You make me feel important. You make me feel safe. I love spending time with you and having you close. And I’d love to go on a date with you."

This time he’s the one to initiate the kiss and you can’t help but smile into it. Suddenly he gets up, picking you up bridal style and making you squeal in surprise.

He laughs at your face while he takes you both to your room, where he lays you gently on the bed.

"I could’ve walked, you know." You tell him while chuckling.

"I know." he answers before basically lying on top of you while you laugh, smile seared onto his face.

You hang onto each other as you fall asleep, more than glad to have found the other and both silently planning your future together.

Bonus part

Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes @ordelixx

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