#feel like those tags are a little too heavy for this post but better to be safe ig
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Office Hours - Chapter Eleven
Summary:
You and Astarion have a little check-in about your preferences.
Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6.1k
Tags/Warnings: mentions of many, many different kinks, slightly less than ideal kink negotiation, choking, blood drinking, fingering, rough sex, honestly all the standard stuff at this point
I swear I'm not doing this intentionally, but I'm finally posting chapter 11 when the draft for chapter 12 is up on my Kofi. Eventually I'll get my shit back on schedule.
As always, the professor screenshot is from @zipzoomzaria.
Read it on AO3 ~ Masterlist
The sky outside your living room window is streaked with orange and purple from the nearly set sun. Lying on your couch with your feet propped up on the coffee table, you open an incognito tab on your phone. No sense in ruining your algorithm. You search ‘BDSM checklist’ and click on the first result, an extensive PDF that looks relatively promising. You’re trying to not be judgmental, but as you scroll through the list you’re plagued with thoughts ranging from “Wait, that’s a kink? Isn’t that just standard?” to “People are actually into that?” to “Oh. Oh.”
Your eyes scan down the list. There are just so many options that you hadn’t considered.
Bondage – light: yes. Bondage – heavy: maybe? Bondage – all day/multi day: definitely not. Collars – worn in private: absolutely. Collars – worn in public: …maybe?
You picture yourself walking around with Astarion in public with a collar on. Maybe not something so explicit as a dog collar, but like a little choker? Just for you and him? The thought sends a small thrill up your spine. You keep scrolling.
Fetishes: boot worship, cock worship, corsets… sure. Cross dressing? The image of Astarion wearing lacy lingerie and giving you a come hither stare over his glasses brings a light flush to your cheeks.
You open up your text messages and stare at your sparse conversation with him. The picture of His Majesty chewing on The 48 Laws of Power is still prominent, making you smile. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, but you have no idea what to say. Come over so we can compare kinks? I want to tell you in explicit detail all of the depraved things I want you to do to me? You drop your head back on the couch and stare at your ceiling for a few minutes while you try to sort through your thoughts. Better to be simple and direct, right? After a heavy sigh, you type:
-Do you have plans tonight? Do you want to come over?
You pause before hitting send, suddenly unsure. Why is this the thing giving you anxiety? It’s still hard to be so forthright with him while every instinct screams at you to play it cool. With another huff you clench your jaw and hit send.
You put your phone face down on the couch next to you so you’re not tempted to stare at it. You start to feel antsy without anything for your hands to do and your eyes trace the dents in your worn down popsocket. The seconds stretch on for what feels like hours, and you’re convinced that you’ve said the wrong thing. That he’s changed his mind and decided that you’re not worth the effort after all.
Finally you hear the soft hum of your phone buzz, and you frantically flip it over to read his answer.
-I’d love to. Shall I bring anything? A leash, perhaps?
You giggle and squeal and press your thighs together all at once. You settle back on the couch and tuck your feet beneath you, smiling like a schoolgirl with a crush. An apt comparison, honestly.
-Not yet, but maybe one of those fancy expensive wines.
Your heart thrums as your eyes dart around your apartment, making sure it isn’t too messy. You generally keep it fairly tidy, although compared to Astarion’s place yours is downright spotless. The briefest image flashes through your mind of the two of you living together before you internally scold yourself. Absolutely not, it’s way too soon for those thoughts.
Your phone buzzes again, and you look over at it, surprised.
-You’re still my favorite vintage, darling. 🤍🩸
If someone had been around to hear the noise you just made, you would’ve vehemently denied it.
***
You nearly jump out of your skin when you finally hear the knock on the door. You quickly check your hair in the mirror before opening it, and there he is, looking as dashing as ever in a lavender button down and forest green trousers. His collar is undone just enough to get a peek of the delicate silver chains resting on his collarbone, and his sleeves are rolled up, showing off his sinewy forearms. You take the bottle from his hand, your fingers lingering on his wrist momentarily, and gesture for him to come inside. You put the wine down on the counter and turn back to him as he slips his hands around your waist, his cool hands resting on the skin of your lower back below your crop top. You stand on your toes and loop your arms around his neck, gently pressing your lips to his.
“Hi,” you murmur with a shy smile.
“Hi,” he repeats, resting his forehead against yours. You pull away reluctantly and open the cabinets to take out glasses for wine. Astarion glances down at your socked feet and then over to your shoe rack by the door.
“Oh, erm… would you like me to remove my shoes?” he asks, uncertainty apparent in his voice.
“Oh!” You didn’t consider that he probably hasn’t spent much time in other people’s spaces, and you don’t want to push him outside his comfort zone. “Well, uh… you don’t have to, I guess.” He studies your expression and frowns.
“I feel as though you’d like me to,” he says carefully, and then before you can respond, he walks over to the shoe rack and slips off his shoes, placing them neatly on top of the rack.
“Thanks,” you mumble, and he crosses back to you and kisses your temple. You linger in his scent for a moment longer before turning toward your tablet resting on your kitchen island. You unlock the screen and pull up the checklist you had been perusing earlier, then slide it over to him to look at.
“So in the spirit of, you know, being on the same page about things,” you tell him as you pull out your kitschy pirate-shaped corkscrew, “I wanted to look at a list of like, things to try, and I dunno, talk about it.” You don’t know why you’re so nervous about this. You certainly don’t have much experience with being so explicit about your desires, preferring instead to rely on nonverbal communication with partners. Which, in retrospect, might explain more than a few disappointing experiences.
Astarion brushes your hair back from your neck and lightly runs his nose along your ear, eliciting a shiver. “You wouldn’t just rather have a repeat of the evening at the bowling alley?” You lean your head back into him for a moment, savoring his touch, before steeling yourself and pulling away.
“No, we should actually talk about it,” you sigh heavily, barely able to keep the disappointment out of your voice.
“Having a conversation, how novel,” he says with that high-pitched giggle you find so very charming. You pour generous servings of wine and take a long sip before settling yourself onto a barstool.
“So they split it into different categories, and then there are a lot of subcategories,” you explain, trying to be chill about it and only mostly succeeding.
“People can get very specific about their wants, it’s true,” he agrees sagely, and you’re suddenly reminded of his centuries of experience over you. You try not to let that make you feel even more insecure than you already do.
“Right. So um… blindfolds, light bondage, chains.” You make little check marks next to the ones you’re interested in with your tablet pen.
“Collars, I believe you articulated something along those lines,” he smiles at you salaciously, and you take a deep sip of your wine to hide your embarrassment. He places his hand on your lower back reassuringly, and you muster the resolve to continue scanning down the list.
“Various cuffs sound good to me, although I’m not sure if I know what ‘handcuff style’ means,” you say, putting the pen to your lips in thought.
“May I?” he asks, holding out his hands to indicate that he’s asking for permission to demonstrate it on you. You nod and slip off the barstool, and in an instant he has you spun around and your wrists pinned together behind your back. He’s gentle enough, but uses just the right amount of force to make you gasp. “Do you like that?” His voice is low in your ear and your heart threatens to leap out of your chest.
“I, uh… think you can surmise the answer to that,” you tease a little breathlessly, and the puff of air from his chuckle tickles your neck.
“Perhaps, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that I want to hear you say it.” He punctuates the sentence by tightening the grip on your hands ever so slightly.
“Then yes, I do.” The words come out a little strained but he deems your answer satisfactory. He releases your wrists and you turn back to him to see him with an incredibly smug grin. You playfully shove his face and return to the list, and he leans over your shoulder to read along with you.
“Thoughts on gags?” he asks, and you think it over for a moment.
“I think probably not, although maybe tape, just none of these other ones. I don’t want to get all drool-y.” You throw him a mischievous glance over your shoulder. “Although on you, I might reconsider.” You stick your knuckle in his mouth and he closes his lips around your finger, sucking on it while keeping his eyes trained on you. He pulls your finger out with a lewd pop and pulls your wrist into his lips, grazing his fangs along your pulse point.
“You’d be hurting yourself more than helping, darling,” he murmurs into your skin, and you bite your lip in an attempt to control your breathing. He uses your momentary distraction to snatch the pen out of your hand. “And I’ll go ahead and put a tick next to ‘leashes’ right here.”
“I thought you wanted to hear me say it,” you needle him back, pressing up against him unnecessarily to retrieve the pen.
“Oh I most certainly would,” he purrs, and you feel a heat creep up the back of your neck. You continue scanning down the list, adding checkmarks to some of the things you’ve already done. You reach ‘blood play’ and add a check. Astarion leans down and gives your neck a quick little nip, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make you yelp.
“Fetishes,” you read, tapping the pen to your lips. “You know, I’m definitely into some of these things, corsets, high heels – I might even still have some of the costume pieces from when I was in Venus in Fur that they let me keep.”
Astarion’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Venus in Furs, as in, the Sacher-Masoch book?”
“Based on it, yeah. Venus in Fur, singular, by David Ives.”
“I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing some production photos from that,” he teases, running his fingers along the waistband of your skirt.
“Well maybe I should just model the costume for you in person,” you murmur, turning into his chest and tilting your chin upward. He follows your lead, capturing your lips into a heated kiss. Your head grows foggy with lust and you finally push him away. “Focus,” you scold yourself as much as him.
“I am extremely focused right now,” he hums, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Hmm, prove it,” you retort, and tap the pen on your tablet screen. “What are your thoughts, um. On crossdressing.” You’re a little embarrassed to ask, but you continue to barrel through your shame. Jaheira would be proud.
“Would you like that?” His voice remains just as lust-filled and you flush a deep red. “Seeing me in a cute little skirt and thigh high stockings?”
The image in your mind is vivid: Astarion straddling your lap, a miniskirt flaring out from his hips and his cock pressing against you through thin satin panties. You nearly start hyperventilating.
“Uh-huh,” you breathe heavily.
“Duly noted,” he says with a giggle. You blink to focus your eyes back to reality and return to the list.
“Humiliation?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Yeah, me neither. Impact and rough play. Uh…” you scan through the list, putting down a few checks – face slapping, riding crops, spanking. “Oh. Um. Non-monogamy.” You turn to him to gauge his expression. He returns your gaze equally carefully.
“Is that something that interests you?” he asks, his voice neutral.
“Probably not dating… um… but I could consider a threesome, like, with the right person. Unless you’re not into that,” you add quickly, and his lips curl into a smile.
“We can cross that bridge if we come to it,” he replies and plants a kiss in your hair.
“Okay, I like that,” you hum appreciatively. You move onto the next category. “Role play. None of these are of particular interest to me, probably… ugh, schoolroom scenes, I can’t.” You shudder and he lets out a cackle.
“Not interested in a professor/student roleplay?” he asks with a roguish smile. “No looking for extra credit to get your grade up?”
You have another visceral reaction. “Too close to home, no thank you. Although…”
“Reconsidering?” he narrows his eyes playfully.
“No! I was just looking… Well, two jump out at me. Uh…” you struggle against your internalized shame and let out a growl of frustration. He takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. His cool touch is a soothing balm against the fiery heat in your cheeks.
“Darling, you can tell me. Trust me, I’m sure it isn’t anything I haven’t already heard.” His voice is gentle, but there’s almost a sadness behind it that you can’t place. You take a deep breath and hold onto his hand, keeping it pressed against your cheek.
“Okay. The first one is fear play. Like… I like when you get a little animalistic. Almost a predator/prey kind of thing.” You avoid his gaze despite his insistence, but you power through. “The other one is switching roles. I may have… fantasized… about you being a bit of a needy sub.” You almost swallow your last few words before looking up to his gaze again. His red eyes are completely inscrutable.
“Well, I’m more than happy to hunt you down, love,” he leers at you and your breath catches. Then his expression falters, shifting into something more contemplative. “As for the second…” Your whole body tenses in anticipation of the ‘but.’ “I’d have to think about it. I don’t relish the idea of giving up that much control.”
“Ohmygodsnoit’stotallyfinewedon’thavetotalkaboutiteveragain.” The words pour out of your mouth in a barely coherent jumble. He laughs and pulls your face into his, giving you a tender kiss.
“I said I’d think about it, darling, not that it’s an outright no.” He searches your eyes for any indication of understanding, and you nod. He looks back at the next category on the list. “Sensation play, non-impact,” he reads, and he laughs when his eyes fall on ‘biting/being bitten.’
“Yeah, I guess that one’s pretty obvious,” you say sheepishly, putting a check next to it. He looms over your shoulder and you feel the electricity crackling between the two of you.
“Now, I’d like to ask for a point of clarification,” he considers while pointing at ‘breath control (choking)’ and ‘breath control (mild restriction.)’
“Uh-huh?” you ask, barely trusting yourself to articulate words. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings his hand to your throat hesitantly, a silent question. You give him a shallow but prolonged nod, your breath quickening with excitement. He closes his hand slowly, testing the pressure. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan.
“Mild?” he asks, his voice husky. Your fingers curl and flex on the counter, dropping the tablet pen.
“Yeah,” you squeak out, your blood pounding in your ears. His eyes glint with a devilish fire and a smile slowly creeps onto his lips.
“Good,” he hums, low and dangerous. He studies your face for a moment longer, turning your chin left and right, almost like he’s examining you. Your body trembles, waiting for his next move. He suddenly pulls you up onto your toes, your face close to his, his nails digging into your flesh. You whine, high and loud and undeniably aroused.
He continues with his interrogation. “And how is this? Yes or no, pet.” Under any other circumstances, his voice might be considered gentle.
“Y-yes,” you stammer, your voice cracking.
“Yes, what?” he spits through gritted teeth, tightening his hand and tearing another wanton moan from your lips.
“Y-yes daddy,” the word tumbles out of you before you can even think to stop it.
Evidently it was the correct answer because his features split with a feral grin as he snarls, “That’s my good girl,” before crushing your lips into his. You grasp weakly at his hips as he devours you, and you’re more than happy to let him. He slides his hands under your ass and plunks you down on the island. He grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it over your head, pulling your hips in closer to his waist as he continues to ravage your lips.
He snakes his hand into your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to his destruction. “Little love, tell me what you desire,” he growls into your ear, and you clutch your arms around his shoulders.
“You,” you manage to gasp out, “I- ah- I want you. To have your way with me. Destroy me, consume me, take your fill. I want you, Astarion.” You tense up, waiting for his bite, but instead he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses and nips down your chest. He closes his lips around your nipple under your bra, sucking on it through the lace. You run your fingers through his curls and drop your head back with a moan.
Before you can adjust to the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, his lips continue their journey down your stomach and to the waistband of your skirt. He hikes it up to your hips, hooking his fingers into the band of your panties and pulls them down past your knees, discarding them onto the kitchen floor. He hovers his mouth over your slick cunt and shifts his gaze up to you. You can feel his cool breath and you whimper and squirm, aching for any part of him.
“Your hand, love,” he purrs as he reaches out for your wrist, pulling your fingers to your swollen clit. You groan as you make contact, instinctively rubbing little circles to give yourself the relief you crave. He slides his nimble fingers into your cunt and you jerk your hips into him, clenching around him and breathing heavily. He slowly pumps his fingers as you massage your clit, never taking his eyes off you. It’s almost too intense and you want to look away, but you’re transfixed. His lips drift to your inner thigh, his fangs ghosting over your skin.
“Please,” you mewl, and the breath from his laugh tickles your thigh. He straightens up and puts his lips to your ear, his fingers never straying from their tortuous pace.
“You’re going to listen closely to what I’m about to say and you will follow my instructions, understood?” You whimper out a noise of assent, trying to match your fingers to his. “I’m going to bite you, and you’re going to continue touching yourself while I drink. And you’re not going to be stingy with those needy little moans of yours, my sweet, I want to hear and taste you come.”
“Yes sir,” you squeal, and your breath quickly turns into a groan when he sinks his teeth into you. Your fingers slow at the overwhelm of sensation, but when his own fingers speed up as he takes in long greedy pulls of your blood, your need becomes almost unbearable. You clutch at the back of his head with one hand as the other services your clit, and you pant in his ear as he drinks. “Fuck, Astarion, gods, yes,” you gasp the explitives into his hair. Your hips buck into your hand as you bring yourself closer, aided by his fingers dragging against your walls and his tongue lapping at your neck. You quickly grow dizzy with lust and blood loss, your vision clouding you ramp up to the edge. Your fingers tangle into his curls as your whimpers and whines grow high and needy. When you feel the vibration of his own groan against your skin, your orgasm crashes down on you, your cunt and neck both throbbing with pleasure. He rides it out with you, lazily licking your wounds closed.
He pulls away from you and the sight of his lips red with your blood sends another surge through you, and you grab his face and kiss him roughly. He wraps his arms around your waist, the fingers on his left hand still sticky with your cum. You claw at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his cool, smooth chest. Once you’ve rid him of the offending clothing, you break the kiss to catch your breath, sliding your hands over his shoulders and down his arms. He growls with a low appreciation.
“My darling, you taste delectable,” he hums and swipes his thumb across your lips, collecting a drop of your blood and sucking it off lasciviously. You pant and look at him through blurry eyes, your legs still shaking. He pulls you off the counter and your knees buckle as you land, barely able to hold up your weight. “On your knees, my treasure.”
You happily drop to the floor, never taking your eyes off his. He towers over you with a sinister smile and you slide your hands around the back of his thighs, just trying to brace yourself. Your mouth hangs open, hungry for him but waiting for instructions. He cards his hand through your hair, letting it run around your ear and down under your chin.
“So eager for me,” he says in a low voice, and he slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it fervently, keeping your carnal gaze on him, aching to please. His eyes flutter closed briefly and he lets out a long breath. You keen into his thumb, a nonverbal plea for his cock. He yanks his digit back from your mouth and closes his hand around your throat once more, bending over for a heated kiss. When he finally releases you, you’re panting again, the whimpers practically uncontrollable.
He begins to unbuckle his pants and you pull up on your knees, begging like a needy pup. “Little love, is this what you want? My cock shoved down your throat?” He pulls out his erection, engorged and flushed pink with your blood, as you nod with a whine. “Good. Open,” he commands and you dutifully obey, taking him as far into your mouth as you can. You swallow down your gag reflex, keeping your eyes trained on him as his head falls back with a moan. You bob your head on his cock, your nails digging into the back of his thighs. He tangles his hand into your hair and you hold still as he thrusts into your mouth.
“Fuck, Tav,” he hisses and you moan around his cock, spurred on by that jolt of electricity you only get from hearing him say your name. He yanks your hair to pull you off his cock, and he looks at you with wild eyes for a moment before pushing you down onto your back. The kitchen tile is hard and cool against your skin, and you’re all too aware of every knot and point of tension along your back. But your legs fall open for him anyway as he pulls his pants down to his knees and positions himself at your entrance. He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, gathering your wetness and spreading it down onto the shaft with his hand.
“Please,” you croak, your hips canting upwards towards him. He lets out a shuddering breath that’s almost a laugh.
“Use your words, love.” His voice is thick with lust, which just sets you off more.
“Please,” you beg with even more desperation, “please fuck me and choke me, Astarion. Please.” You’re almost crying with need at this point, and the noise you make when he finally buries himself into you up to the hilt is utterly obscene. He grabs your throat and digs his fingers into the side of your larynx, just barely restricting your air supply. He pounds into you with long, powerful strokes, and you claw at the kitchen floor to keep yourself from sliding backwards. You let out a strained cry with each thrust, pleasure and sensation overwhelming your body.
“Look at me,” he snarls with a slight squeeze on your throat, and you snap your gaze to him. He looks borderline bestial, his eyes wild with bloodlust, his hair falling over his glasses. His expression alone would have been enough to get another orgasm out of you, but the look paired with the feeling of his controlling and possessive hand around your throat sends you careening off the edge with a cry. A few more broken thrusts of his hips and he’s following, his cock throbbing as he spills into you. He falls forward onto your stomach limply, breathing heavily as you push the curls back off his sweaty forehead.
You reach across your alleyway kitchen and grab a dish towel hanging off your oven door. Astarion slides out of you and you gently wipe your combined spend off his cock. When you look up you catch him staring at you adoringly.
“What?” you shy away as he pulls his pants back up, and he chuckles.
“Nothing. You’re just beautiful like that, is all.” He takes the towel from your hand and returns the favor, wiping down your inner thigh before crawling toward you and planting a featherlight kiss on your lips. A thousand different thoughts run through your head before you resolutely decide to continue the conversation from earlier. You strain your neck up at the kitchen island above you and frown.
“My tablet is so far away,” you pout, reaching upward pathetically. He rolls his eyes and stands to retrieve your tablet and your wine glass, handing them to you as you lean your back against the island cabinets. “My hero,” you croon as he sits down beside you, taking his own glass with him. He takes a long sip while watching you out of the corner of the eye and you pull the list back up.
“Now where were we?” You scoot over towards him and loop your arm through his, resting your cheek on his shoulder.
“I believe we got side tracked right around ‘breath control,’” he says as he takes the pen off the side of the tablet and puts checks next to the relevant entries. You shove him with your body and continue your journey down the list. You consider a few more – temperature play, sensory deprivation, teasing…
“Ooh, this one is specific to elves!” you squeal with delight when your eyes land on ‘ear play - elves.’ You quickly nip at his earlobe and he makes a shuddering moan, a somewhat disproportionate response for how relatively tame your action is.
“Ah- yes, I thought you had figured that one out,” he quavers with a laugh, and you suddenly redden.
“Oh. Ohh.” It suddenly dawns on you that the differences between elf and human anatomy are more than just visual. “Is that something you like? That you’re okay with?”
He laughs. “Yes, very much so, just be cautious with it if you don’t want things to come to a sudden, messy end.”
You nod and then add mischievously, “Good to know.” You turn your eyes back to the list. “What the fuck are vampire gloves?” You google the phrase while Astarion scoffs.
“There’s nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire, is there?” he spits, venom apparent in his voice. You look up from your phone, which is displaying pictures of leather gloves with spiked palms.
“What do you mean?” you ask, a little nervous. His vampiric nature has become an integral part of your relationship, but it’s never come up so explicitly.
“It’s nothing,” he exhales heavily. “I’ve just had more than my fair share of lovers who were more interested in my fangs than in me.”
You freeze beside him as he continues to scroll through the list with his finger. You’d like him regardless of whether he’s a vampire or not – in fact, you didn’t even know when you first discovered your attraction to him. But you certainly don’t feel neutral about it, and now you’re worried that you’ve fetishized him.
“Love?” He turns to you, since he must have heard your heart stop. You chew on your lip uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry if I, like, made it weird,” you mutter, your cheeks red hot.
“What? Darling, no,” he hushes you reassuringly. “It’s different when it’s you.”
You wrinkle your nose with incredulity. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like it is.”
“My sweet, you have a stunning pair of tits,” he begins, and the non sequitur makes you bark out a laugh. “What I’m saying is that it’s something that I like about you, but it’s not the only thing I like about you. And I’m sure you’ve met your fair share of people who only saw you as a walking rack.” You smile, but you’re still not fully convinced. Your eyes linger on the right side of his neck, hidden from view but you can see the bite mark with perfect clarity in your mind’s eye. He brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear.
“Darling, I haven’t exactly been subtle about how I feel about your blood,” he says in a smoky voice, and a shiver runs up your spine, “even moreso when you’re aroused. I wouldn’t change that, not for all the moonstones in Evereska.”
You pout for a moment longer while he gazes at you earnestly. “And you promise to tell me if I get weird about it?”
He chuckles and presses a kiss to your hairline. “Yes, I promise to tell you if you get weird about it.” Your words sound odd in his posh accent, but it gets a smile out of you nonetheless. “Now, I believe the next category is ‘Service and Restricted-slash-Controlled Behavior.’ Well, that’s certainly a mouthful.”
“Funny, you were a mouthful not that long ago,” you say with a licentious grin.
“Hmm, points for clever wordplay, but reduced marks for low hanging fruit. B+.” He glances at you over his glasses and you gawk at him.
“Excuse me, did you just grade my dirty joke?”
“I hold myself to a higher standard, and I expect the same of you,” he says haughtily and you roll your eyes.
“I think it was at least an A-,” you mutter and he laughs.
“Of course you would, professor,” he smirks at you.
“Are you calling me an easy grader?” you gasp, your affront over the top and theatrical.
“No, just easy,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss, to which you respond by biting his lip. You snatch the pen out his hand and look back at the list. One in particular jumps out at you.
“Oh, the dress that you got me, you know, the night you did the meanest thing anyone has ever done to me?” you say, and you can feel him tense up beside you.
“Have I mentioned how sorry I am for that? And also how wonderful and talented and intelligent you are?” His words carry an air of jest but the concern in his eyes is real.
“And funny?” You widen your smile in an attempt to set him at ease.
“Well, let’s not go that far.” He visibly relaxes when it’s clear you’re just teasing.
“Anyway,” you glare at him playfully, “I was going to say that I liked that. I like when you pick out clothes for me.”
“Then I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a raised eyebrow. Then his voice drops as he breathes, “You truly were a vision in that dress. I’ll have another one made, if it’s to your liking.” You close your eyes contentedly as he nuzzles your ear, and all you can do is nod. You finally clear your throat to shift your attention back to the list.
“Oh, how about chores?” you muse, tossing him a snarky grin. “Do you think you’d want to don a cute little maid’s outfit and clean my apartment?”
“You could sell me on the maid’s outfit, but darling, you’ve seen my home, you know that I’m not one for cleaning.”
Your mind supplies the very unhelpful image of Astarion wearing a French maid outfit and your brain short circuits. Astarion catches you glitching and laughs.
“Someone is very enthusiastic about seeing me in a dress,” he says, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Shut up, you’re just really cute,” you mumble, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.
“Serving other Doms, supervised only,” he reads. “Well, as long as I get to watch.” His voice drops salaciously and you stifle a giggle.
“Like the idea of watching me beg for some big strong Dom?” you volley back, trying to keep your cool.
“Darling, I just like watching you beg.” His voice rumbles low in his chest and you shiver. You move onto the next category, sexual activity and penetration, and wordlessly check entries that, for you at least, just feel pretty standard. Astarion takes the pen from you and puts a check next to ‘strap-on-dildos.’ You glance at him with raised eyebrows and he just smirks in response.
Despite the amount of semi-public sex the two of you have had, you don’t give the next category, ‘Voyeurism and Exhibitionism,’ much attention. The final category, ‘Magic in the Bedroom,’ gives you pause.
Astarion scrolls through the list with his finger, musing, “Since neither of us are magic users, I imagine we’d simply go shopping for scrolls together.”
“Hey Astarion,” you say, and he turns his head to you.
“Hmm?”
“The charm person potion. That I found in your trash.” You keep your voice even, and he frowns.
“Ah. Yes. I, erm… I’m still very sorry for that.” His voice is uncharacteristically stilted.
“Why did you do it?” you ask quietly. You’re pretty sure you know the answer, but you still want to hear him say it. He exhales a deep sigh and waits several moments before finally answering.
“I’ve had more than a few close calls with, ah, potential lovers, shall we say.” He stares off into the middle distance and your eyes trace his profile. “I didn’t think you were secretly a Gur, but also, I’d rather not take my chances.”
“And the thing you said about wanting to seem more charismatic?” You put your hand on his knee in an attempt to soothe both him and yourself.
“A lie. Well,” he corrects himself, frowning, “a half-truth. If I could guarantee that you wouldn’t want to ram a stake through my heart, then you finding my otherwise grating personality slightly more charming was merely a bonus.”
You study his face for a moment longer and then take your hand and turn his chin so he’s facing you. “Hey. Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”
“I was selfish,” he growls, the self-hatred pouring out of him in waves. “I was so focused on my own safety that how you might feel about it didn’t even occur to me.” He clenches his jaw and you put your tablet on the floor and sidle yourself between his legs. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your bare skin flush against his.
“I wish you hadn’t,” you murmur into his ear. “But I understand why you did. I’m certainly no stranger to feeling unsafe on a date. There are other ways to guarantee your safety, but I think you know that now.”
He lets out a shuddering breath followed by a quiet laugh. “I don’t relish you seeing me like this.”
“Too bad, get treasured, idiot,” you giggle and he pulls out of the hug to take your face in his hands and give you a sensual kiss. You melt into his arms, breathing in his scent deeply. “Bed?” you ask, and he nods silently. You stand and help pull him to his feet, leading him into your bedroom.
#office hours#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate fanfiction#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion smut#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion fanfic#bg3 modern au#university au#professor astarion
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wanna kill myself
#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo，ide yo !!#tw sui vent#tw sui ideation#feel like those tags are a little too heavy for this post but better to be safe ig
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The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare."
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game.
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss."
"What?!"
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex.
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you.
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare.
With absolutely no intention of backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out.
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous.
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you.
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep.
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face.
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once.
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you."
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?"
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam.
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?"
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask.
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you.
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close.
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take.
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist.
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely.
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him.
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger."
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing.
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency."
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles."
"Naw, you don't got to."
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender.
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer.
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor.
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head.
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount."
"And what is that?"
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends."
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?"
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends.
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation."
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes.
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there."
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine.
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal."
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh.
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual.
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?"
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out."
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check.
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly.
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck.
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away.
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch.
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely.
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see."
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part."
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders.
"I knew they would pick you."
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed.
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again.
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight."
"You're a flirt," you accuse him.
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it."
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there."
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised.
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?"
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning.
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight.
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time.
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him.
"Where you going?" He pouts.
"I just need to grab my purse."
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls.
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear."
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like."
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you.
"Do you want some company?"
"You don't have to."
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits.
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things.
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you."
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them.
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse."
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously.
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?"
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type."
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting.
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply.
"I don't think that's true," you snap back.
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly.
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight."
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place.
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment.
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says.
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head.
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind.
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both.
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?"
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you.
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours.
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers.
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him.
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms.
"I'm fine," you reassure him.
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?"
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then."
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House."
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped.
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence.
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off.
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again.
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now.
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now."
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you.
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?"
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me."
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot."
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it.
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours.
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible."
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think."
"That makes sense," he concedes.
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier."
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused.
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?"
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside.
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought.
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings.
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you.
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat.
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story.
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him.
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes.
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit.
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'."
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"You know, whinnies?"
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?"
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there."
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?"
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you."
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder.
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly.
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?"
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises.
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?"
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright. He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want."
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own.
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional.
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control.
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong, consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing?
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together. “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.”
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you.
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.”
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it.
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself.
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?”
“I'm not.”
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual.
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea.
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in.
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder.
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang."
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?"
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal."
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing.
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout.
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four."
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers.
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more.
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Too Young | John Price x Reader
I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.
Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.
WARNINGS: Age Gap
“Welcome home, Captain.”
As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar.
“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.
You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free.
I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around.
John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option.
He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life.
You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to.
The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know
“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?”
“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”
“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.
Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor.
This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home.
“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”
You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”
“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.
“Are you saying I’m too serious?”
“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”
“Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”
As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk.
“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”
“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”
He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips.
“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”
The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box.
You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway.
Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger.
“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”
It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.
As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted.
Blaze
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#john price x reader#john price#simon riley#kyle garrick#john mactavish#soap#ghost#x reader#call of duty#cod#modern warfare
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WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.
rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.
ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.
✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+
✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)
✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover
sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.
sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ;
It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur.
Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun.
Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him.
He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate.
So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy.
You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures.
(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )
When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember.
Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him.
So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain.
In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down.
He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something.
Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while.
Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately.
Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you.
(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)
Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish.
Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting.
He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit.
Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs.
“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,”
“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,”
“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,”
You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.
“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.”
You giggle back at him
“What kinda trouble is that now?”
Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice.
“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.”
“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.”
Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;
John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly.
Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn.
Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted.
On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it.
John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily.
Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.
Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show.
So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp.
Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms.
You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine.
(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that.
You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.)
You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did.
Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it. It was just all too easy again, to be with you.
You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family.
But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see. Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.
It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street.
Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy. John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you.
But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you.
There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision.
You might turn him into a literate man yet.
John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life.
Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself.
Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.
It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck.
“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?”
You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you.
“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,”
John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.
His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat.
“John,”
What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.”
“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,”
“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,”
“A foolish one,”
John laughs.
“I sure do love you for it,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;
Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving.
It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get. He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently.
Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.
(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.)
His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters.
Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living.
It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is) loyal to Dutch. To the gang.
He hadn’t thought much about what comes after.
And it didn’t matter until he met you
He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long.
But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time. He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about.
You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around.
You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen. If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing.
(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.)
When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit.
From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would.
When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d never find again.
That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves.
Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too.
For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.
You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you.
Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him.
“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him. You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,”
He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease. All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.
His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides. You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space.
He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words.
“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.”
Darling as you always are, you nod softly.
“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ;
Wandering.
He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on.
There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly.
There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains.
He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few.
The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it.
Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list.
Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.
You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are.
The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him.
It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some.
It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you. And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything.
But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not.
He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss.
For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars.
Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze.
You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks.
“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,”
He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,”
“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?”
“Well, I’m not fine with it.”
You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?”
“Please, what?”
You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.”
Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life. “Yeah, that’s good to hear.”
You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto.
You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head.
“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,”
His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires.
When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.
But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you.
Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed.
“Kiss?”
Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”
Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆
#arthur morgan x reader#john marston x reader#javier escuella x reader#charles smith x reader#rdr2 x reader#rogues love letters#red dead redemption 2 x reader#THIS IS THE LAST TIME. THE LAST FUCKING TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..
also, for your consideration:
Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...
Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...
this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)
I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.
Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.
The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino.
But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.”
Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.
When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.
“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all.
“Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.
He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.”
It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like.
The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)
“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…”
“No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.
So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.
“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond.
“Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”
Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.
-----
A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?
Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really.
------------
Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…
And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#valentino x reader#vox x reader#velvette x reader#cw.drugging#cw.noncon#cw.dubcon
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sugar cookie daydream
prompt: enemies to lovers (@steddieholidaydrabbles)
word count: 997
rated: t
tags: baker steve, shop owner eddie, rivalry, flirting
welcome to Day 19 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!
Okay, so Steve doesn’t like to say that he hates anyone.
And he doesn’t! Hate anyone. Just–
The guy who owns the shop across the street. Steve doesn’t hate him, because he doesn’t hate people as a general rule, but he maybe sort of… strongly dislikes him.
It’s just the fact that he’s been trying to move in on Steve’s territory by offering free Christmas cookies with any purchase when Steve literally runs the bakery right across the street, and that feels like it’s maybe a personal attack, or– okay, Dustin thinks he’s reading way too much into it or overreacting or something, but honestly? Steve thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to hate the guy who–
Not hate. He doesn’t hate him. He just– resents him. That’s a better word for it.
He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he arranges a fresh round of pastries in their glass case, smiling at the woman who’s eyeing the cream puffs at the other end of the counter. It’s not like he’s exactly hurting for customers, it’s just… the big Free Cookies! sign directly across the street feels a little pointed.
“What can I get you?” he asks the woman, who’s now moved on to examine a rainbow array of macarons. “Those also make great holiday gifts.”
The woman glances up and gives him a big smile, toothy and sweet. She’s pretty in a disarming sort of way, big eyes and long blonde hair pulled back from her face. She’s carrying a heavy-looking bag over her shoulder, loaded down with books that peek out the top.
“Just picking up a few things to take across the street,” she says, heaving the bag higher on her shoulder. “Game night.”
She motions with her head in the direction of The Shop, and Steve resists the urge to make a face. Well, at least he’s getting one paying customer out of the place. Two, if you count Dustin, but he doesn’t ever actually pay.
After a few minutes of selection, he sends her on her way with a little box of macarons, plus a few other things, including an assortment of cookies to show off to his mortal enemy the guy across the street who’s innocently drumming up business for himself by undercutting Steve’s sales.
It doesn’t even matter.
Whatever.
---
And then the shop bell chimes next morning, and he looks up from piping cupcakes to find the man himself standing there in front of the counter, as if he’s allowed to. As if he was invited in. As if Steve isn’t going to give him a piece of his mind and tell him what he really thinks of–
Fuck.
Of course he had to be hot up close.
“Hi,” Evil Shop Owner Guy says, giving him an awkward little wave and a smile. After a beat, his hand moves to rub over the back of his neck. “Thought I’d come say hi.”
Steve blinks. “Well,” he says. “You said it. Hi.”
The guy laughs, and he takes a step closer, which is decidedly not what Steve was going for. He sets down his pastry bag.
“I meant– hi, like–” He lets out a breath. “I’m Eddie. I own the game store that just opened across the street?”
Steve gives him a tight smile. “Yeah, my cashier goes to your games on Thursdays,” he says. “Dustin? Curly-headed kid?”
“Oh yeah, he’s–” Eddie lets out a laugh that makes Steve soften slightly against his will. “He’s a good kid.” He squints. “Kind of an oddball, though.”
Steve laughs too, and his smile loosens. “Yeah, he is,” he says. “Kind of thought all you were until I met the rest of his friends, and– nope, mostly just him.”
Eddie’s shoulders have come down from his ears a little, and he rocks up on his toes as he laughs.
“Listen, um.” He clears his throat. “I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot?”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “We did?”
“The cookie thing,” he says. “Dustin said you’re not exactly a fan.”
And that’s… not untrue, but still. Steve feels his face heat.
“He shouldn’t have said anything,” he says. “I’m– sorry, it’s not like I’ve been– whatever. It just felt a little–”
“No, no, I totally get it,” Eddie says. “I guess I didn’t really think. And then my friend Chrissy brought over some of your stuff last night, and it was way better than the shit we’ve been giving out, and –” He takes a breath. “Anyway. I just wanted to say sorry, and – if you want, I mean – I kind of have an idea of how to make it better?”
---
Steve is a little unsure at first, but after a few days of Eddie’s plan to give half off dice to anyone who comes in with a receipt from the bakery, his sales have definitely started to inch back up toward where they were before someone started undercutting him. Steve even begrudgingly admits the dice are cool when Dustin shows off his new set after paying for his breakfast for the first time ever.
“I don’t really get what they do, though,” Steve says, turning them over in his hand to watch the way the light catches on the glitter trapped inside.
“They don’t do anything,” Dustin says. “They’re dice. You use them to play.”
Steve makes a face. “Okay, I’m not that stupid, thanks.” He drops them back into Dustin’s waiting hand. “I just meant like – the game doesn’t make sense to me. But I’m glad you like them.”
“You could come over net Thursday,” Dustin says, raising his eyebrows. “I bet Eddie wouldn’t mind teaching you.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Steve says. “No nerd games for me. I’ll stick with my cookies.”
---
But that doesn’t stop him from asking Eddie out for a celebratory drink the next day, and if one thing leads to another, well – he never said he hated him.
[also on ao3]
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddieholidaydrabbles#my fic#chrissy cunningham#dustin henderson
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"Husband Series I: A Week is Too Long"
Male Top!Reader x Lucifer
Summary: Lucifer missed his spouse like a void in his soul. His husband was away on a work trip, and he was all alone. As the week wore on, Lucifer's longing for him grew more and more intense. He could not wait for the moment when he was to return home to his embrace again.
Tags: Fluff and Smut, Sensuality, Porn with Feelings, Married Couple, Married Sex, Married Life, Bottom Lucifer, Sub Lucifer, Soft Lucifer, POV Lucifer, Anal Sex, Office Sex, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Aftercare, Healthy Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Sex, Reader Is Not Main Character, Not Canon Compliant, Gay Sex, Gay Male Characters, Reader is a Demon, Top Male Reader, Soft Dom Reader, Reader has a big dick and Lucifer loves it, Not Beta Read, Men In Love
Word Count: 4K words
》 Husband Series: Part II
[ Masterlist ] | [ Archive of Our Own ]
A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing and posting a fanfiction because I have nothing better to do. This is dedicated to those who wants to peg Mr. Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride! I just want too have an x reader with Lucifer as the bottom.
Lucifer missed his spouse, you, like a void in his soul. His husband was away on a work trip, and he was all alone. He found himself wandering around their home, taking in all the little mannerisms you had left behind.
He took a seat behind his desk, staring at the pictures you had taken together on your wedding day. The memories brought a smile to his face, but also made him crave your presence. As the week wore on, Lucifer's longing for you grew more and more intense. He could not wait for the moment when you were to return home to his embrace again.
Little did Lucifer know that you had teleported behind him. You smile at the sight of your husband working diligently on his mahogany desk. With bouquets of blue roses in your hand, you step closer and lean down to kiss Lucifer's inviting nape.
He feels your lips brush his neck. With a sigh, Lucifer's body yields to the sensation. He pauses his work, leans his head back, and takes in the caress entirely. You proceed to pamper kisses on Lucifer's nape, shoulders, ears and jaw while your hand hands him the flowers.
Lucifer lets out light moans as your tender lips make contact with his body. Lucifer looks at you with his head turned to one side and his eyes half-closed, letting you know he wants more.
You smile at your husband and cup his cheek to keep Lucifer in place. The tender kiss feels so good as your lips touch together. It was gentle and full of passion for each other after not seeing each other for a week. Lucifer leans closer to you, craving deeper and more vigorous kisses. He brings a hand to your collar to hold you firmly at arm's length, while your hand is on Lucifer's nape. Lucifer closes his eyes tightly, savoring the moment with every fiber of his being.
You shift from the back and move beside Lucifer's sitting figure without breaking the kiss. You are leaning down, a knee rest between Lucifer's thighs and on the chair, your one hand rests on the chair's backrest for support while your other hand pulls Lucifer's back to bring him closer.
Lucifer wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you closer and tightening the embrace. He lets his head rest on your shoulder without breaking the kiss. Every one of Lucifer's senses is alert to your touch, the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, the scent that lingers from your hair, the sound of both of your breathing that is becoming increasingly urgent with every second. He wants to have more.
You begrudgingly pull away, your eyes are shut and your breathing is heavy. You look at Lucifer's glazed eyes and smile at him. You stand and unbuckles your belt and zippers.
"On the desk, love. Bend over." You command firmly with a slightly eager tone in your voice.
Lucifer's breathing is rapid. His body trembles with excitement, his blood boiling with a carnal lust that has been building up for the entire day.
"You want me to get a little dirty with you in front of my precious paperwork, love? How naughty."
Lucifer does as you ask: he sits on the edge of his desk and bends forward, lifting his suit skirt to put his pert ass at your disposal. He looks back at you with a flirtatious smirk.
You lick your lips as you close the distance between you and your husband. Lucifer's flirty behavior fuels the burning desire that you are feeling right now. You put your hands on both of Lucifer's clothed butt and caressed them under your palms.
"I miss this…" You drag a sigh at the sensation you feel in your palms, the texture of Lucifer's pants and the softness of his round butt make them the perfect stress balls as you massage them firmly.
Lucifer moans when he feels your strong palms cupping both his buttcheeks. His body sags forward, but his legs hold the position as if they were steel rods. His thighs clenched, his breathing becomes shallow. He is so turned on that he is nearly panting. This position of submission makes him feel vulnerable.
"Yes... Oh yes... Do that again, just like that, love. Please."
Lucifer's lips are parted and the tip of his tongue is sticking out. He enjoys your touch immensely, your warm hands firmly rubbing his backside. Lucifer sways his butt left and right to meet your strong strokes.
Lucifer's body trembles with a mix of desire and anticipation, and he feels his breath catch in his throat as you continue to caress his rear. Lucifer is in his own heaven, his senses are overwhelmed by your touch but there is no other place in the world he would want to be right now.
"Love, I, ah, I need you so badly…"
Lucifer whimpers as he feels your palms rubbing, kneading his buttcheeks in circles. He looks back to you, who is looking at him with an expression of insatiable lust. Lucifer raises his head with a small smile, making sure you know he is enjoying the massage. He looks at your bulging pants with a hungry expression on his face, implying his desire for more than a massage.
You spanked his buttcheeks with enough force and caressed them gently. You chuckle, eyes are full of lust and passion towards Lucifer. You lean down, pressing your body above Lucifer's back, kissing and licking your husband's nape and ears. Pair of eyes shut when you inhaled all of Lucifer's scent and perfume – so alluring, it makes you want to take your husband right here and then. Your hands roam around Lucifer's back and butt, alternately caressing the soft flesh covered by clothes.
Lucifer's body quivers under the soft yet aggressive caresses. He squirms under all the attention his butt is receiving, making his movements increasingly frantic as he desperately wants your touch to go deeper and deeper. He lets out a satisfied grunt when he feels your hands on him, exploring every inch of his body.
"You know how to touch me…"
Lucifer gasps softly, as you hit every right spot on his body, giving him goosebumps up and down his spine. The sensation of your hand kneading his ass is intoxicating, making Lucifer wiggle his own hips against the grip of your hands.
You hold Lucifer's jaw to keep his face turned to you. His dazed expression turns you on more than you already are. Your lips capture Lucifer's in an electrifying kiss, full of love and lust, sipping and nibbling on his lower lip and tongue. Your free hand presses Lucifer down the desk by grabbing his waist.
Lucifer's hands hang limply and he doesn't try to escape your grip on him. Both of your lips are tangled together as your passionate kisses consume Lucifer, leaving him feeling dazed. Lucifer gasps from the pressure applied to his waist, his mouth still occupied by your lips. Your tongues clash with each other, your saliva mixing together in a show of lust-fueled passion.
The heat and passion of your kiss is overwhelming for Lucifer. He arches backward, bending forward again, giving you more access to his soft flesh and butt. Lucifer pushes his hips backward, silently asking for more of his husband's attention.
The sensation of Lucifer's ass hitting against your bulging erection makes you groan in the slight pleasure. You grind your hips forward as your lips and tongue continue to burn Lucifer's skin.
"Keep doing that…" You gasp as you command.
Lucifer obeys and keeps wiggling his ass, his eyes shut tight with pleasure as his body is getting more sensitive by the second. The intense heat and pressure on his butt is making him squirm against your touch, his breath quickening, his heart racing. Lucifer looks back at you who looks as if you are about to devour his body and soul.
Lucifer feels his body shaking with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure as you stimulate his buttcheeks, the kiss on his lips and the grinding of your hips. He lets out little whimpers of excitement, your passionate touch driving him insane with lust.
"Yes… that's it." You hum in approval.
Lucifer's eyes are closed tight. His lips are parted, his breathing is shallow, his chest is heaving, and his head is spinning. His hands are grabbing the desk, gripping his papers in an attempt to stay grounded. He is moaning softly under your assault. The friction and heat on his ass are making him want to scream out your name.
You pull away from Lucifer's neck, slightly bending over Lucifer's back. Your arms encircle his waist as you unbuckle Lucifer's belt and open his fly, freeing Lucifer's hard on first. With a swift motion, you trace the hem of Lucifer's boxers and trousers, slowly dragging the fabric downwards his thighs, completely exposing the pale, smooth round buttcheeks of Lucifer.
"So alluring…" You exhale through your mouth as you watch Lucifer's pinkish entrance pulse around nothing. You laugh softly and free your own aching manhood from the constraints of your boxers, leaving yourself still fully clothed except for your open fly.
Lucifer's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. You have revealed his bare butt, and Lucifer feels the heat rising to his face. Lucifer squirms a little, hoping your hands would finally touch his bare ass. His eyes are glued to your gaze, hoping you will give him the pleasure he's been thirsting for the whole day.
"Oh, love…" Lucifer moans, the tension in his body becoming unbearable.
He tries to reach for your manhood with his hand still gripping the desk, but you have already locked the position of Lucifer's arms above his head, grabbing the papers and using them as an anchor. Lucifer feels vulnerable, exposed, with no way to break free from your grasp, and his body trembles with anticipation.
"Please…" Lucifer whimpers. He can feel himself going over the edge, the sensation, the pleasure, the anticipation becoming unbearable.
You groan at the pleasure you feel as you rub your manhood in between Lucifer's buttcheeks. It is warm and soft to touch. Your hand holding your own arousal for guidance and your other hand pushes Lucifer's body down the desk.
"Ahh... Lucifer... I miss you." You groan and sigh between words.
"Oh, my love, the feeling is mutual." Lucifer is in ecstasy, his body shivering, his head spinning, his breathing heavy and fast.
"More… please."
Lucifer's hands are trembling, trying to pull on the papers he is holding onto, trying to keep himself on the desk. His pelvis is grinding frantically against your erect manhood.
"Ahh... Ahh… my love" Lucifer's lips are parted in a silent moan of your name. He is on the verge of losing self-control at the sensation of your hand pinning his back and your manhood rubbing against his entrance. His body arches backwards on the desk, his free arm reaching for your arm to pull you closer towards him.
With you on top of him, pinning him to the desk, Lucifer whimpers softly and lets out little gasps with every subtle movement. His legs are trembling, the muscles on his ass are clenching tightly, and his breathing is getting faster and faster. The sensation is too much for his body to handle. Lucifer lets out a little scream of pleasure, and his hips push back slightly against you. He is close, he is so, so close.
"Love, I'm not in yet…" You tease Lucifer's contracting entrance with your leaking tip, still rubbing and "missing" the right spot where Lucifer needs you the most.
"But it's okay, you can let go." You permit as you continue to rub your weeping cock on Lucifer's clenching butthole.
Lucifer is holding his breath and gripping the desk with all the strength in his hands. He is letting out tiny breaths, trying to hold back his release when you tease him.
"No, no, no... please…"
Lucifer moans, a loud and long sound, but holds back. The urge is there, just beyond his grasp, he wants to let go, to surrender, to release, but you have complete control and Lucifer is afraid of disappointing you if he comes too early. He struggles against your restraint, but all in vain.
The anticipation was too much. Lucifer lets out a loud moan, his eyes shut tight. He trembles, his body shakes, and he feels the rush of orgasmic pleasure flood through his veins. His body shudders, his legs tense up, and his whole body spasms. Lucifer is spent. His mind is still spinning and he struggles to keep conscious. Lucifer's heavy breathing is laced with small moans and groans.
"There you go." You chuckle, still rubbing yourself against Lucifer.
Without giving your husband a warning and a break to recuperate, you shove your entire length inside Lucifer's flesh. Your eyes flutter open and close, moaning and gasping softly, due to the tightness you feel around your manhood. You stand still for a moment and kiss Lucifer's nape.
Lucifer gasps and exhales sharply, his legs kicking in a moment of shock and surprise. He looks back at you, his face a blend of pain and pleasure he couldn't have imagined.
"Ah! It's... too much."
Lucifer lets out a soft scream, his whole body shaking, his mind is in a frenzy. His head is spinning and he is still recovering. Lucifer's body tenses up, his muscles clench. He feels his skin stretching in ways he has never felt before, his breath grows ragged and his eyes flicker open. He is torn in between pleasure and pain. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort is overwhelming. But he wants more, and he wants to give it to you in return.
"Sorry, I'll let you get used to it first." You do not move except for your pampering kisses on Lucifer's back. Lucifer moans softly and nods to let you know you can now move. However, you are focused on kissing your husband's back to let him adjust fully.
Lucifer's muscles loosen, giving you free access to his ass. His breathing slows down, his body begins to relax, and his heart rate slows.
"Oh my…"
Lucifer closes his eyes, still catching his breath. As the sensation ebbs, a sense of peaceful calm overtakes him and he smiles. He reaches for you with his free hand and grabs your forearm, feeling your manhood being completely inside him.
Lucifer takes a deep breath. His body is slowly relaxing and accepting your presence inside. He feels you moving slightly, and he moans softly. Lucifer opens his eyes and looks back at you, his expression filled with lust and passion.
"My love…" Lucifer whispers, his voice strained. He looks you in the eyes, his eyes filled with love, and a small smile spreads on his lips.
Lucifer leans in closer to the desk until his arms are resting on the edge. He tilts his head back to give you more access to his neck. He takes deep breaths through his nose. The sharp sting has subsided a little bit and he feels more at ease with your lengthy and girthy dick inside him. Your kiss on his neck feels incredible, like a warm blanket of sensual pleasure.
"You're killing me." Lucifer whispers. He looks at you with his eyes half open, his lips in a small smile, and his breathing is even.
Your thrusts gradually increased in pace. You finally remove Lucifer's coat and vest, leaving your husband's black button shirt and tie on. The soft yet muscular back of Lucifer feels intoxicating against your hands as you caress him under his shirt.
Together with both of your hips moving in a right rhythm, you lift up Lucifer's shirt to have better access to his back. You kiss, bite, and lick every part – leaving trails of reddish and damp portions on the pale skin of your husband.
Lucifer lets out a moan with every thrust of your body. His muscles are tensing up again with the increased pace, and he gasps for breath every time you sink into him. His breath is growing shorter and his eyes are shut tight, but he struggles to keep them open as your caresses and thrust become rougher, more intense and forceful. Every nerve in his body screams with pleasure.
Lucifer's expression morphs into one of pure pleasure. His legs start to buckle again, his body tenses up, his muscles shake, and his eyes start to roll back. His breath becomes shallow and his moaning progressively becomes noisier. Lucifer's fingers curl up as he wraps his hands around the wooden desk, grasping the papers underneath. He is unable to speak, but his feelings are quite obvious.
Your caresses turn into tight grips on each either side of Lucifer's waist, grabbing him firmly until it forms faint handprints on the supple smooth skin. You let out soft grunts and groans as Lucifer's muscle contracts around your manhood with every thrust. Your nails dig on each either side of Lucifer's waist as your thrusts become frantic.
"Lucifer... you're incredible."
Lucifer groans softly, he can't take it anymore. Your rough grip on his waist is so attractive, your nails are digging into Lucifer's skin, leaving faint red lines. Lucifer's mouth is open, his eyes are shut, and he is breathing heavily.
Every thrust of you makes him moan and his eyes flicker open until they shut again. His hands grip the desk tightly, his muscles clenching and relaxing in rhythm with your thrusts. His body is in a state of euphoria, and his pleasure is rising with each thrust.
"Ahhh..." Lucifer lets out a loud groan, his eyes shut tightly as he struggles to keep his sanity. With each thrust of your body, the pleasure becomes more and more intense. His muscle responds by squeezing you tighter, pleasuring him even more. He can feel each of your movements inside him and all of the sensation he feels from it. His legs shake, his breathing is uneven, his heart is hammering in his chest, and his whole body is quivering with passion and euphoria.
You throw your head back and briefly stare at the ceiling, your eyes shut and quickly open again. The perverse sound of your lovemaking — skin slapping against each other and the desk creaking underneath both of your weight — mixes together with your moans and gasps and echoes throughout Lucifer's office.
You gulp, still thrusting deeper and faster, and look down on Lucifer's disheveled yet pleasured state. The sight of your husband being completely vulnerable beneath you lit a fire to your dominant nature. You chuckle for a bit and your hand proceeds to reach for Lucifer's manhood, massaging and stroking from the tip down to the base, as you continue to thrust wildly from behind.
"Ohhh!" Lucifer's words get lost to his own pleasure. His body is in heat, you are making every nerve in his body sing. With the lovemaking growing more intense, Lucifer's words are nothing else than little sounds coming out of his exhausted mouth. His breath is ragged, he is on the brink of losing his sanity and losing his mind. In pleasure, he completely forgets the paperwork on his desk, the room, and any sense of time. You are the only thing that exists in Lucifer's world, and he loves that idea.
"Please, please, please…"
Lucifer says between gasps for breath. He is completely disoriented and has lost sense of space and time, but he loves every single second of it. His breathing is ragged, his body is shaking, his mind is blank, and his mind is a frenzy of sensations assaulting his body. Lucifer's eyes are shut tight and he is on the verge of screaming out. He can feel each of your thrusts and moans. He can feel your manhood pulsating inside him and the warm sensation filling him up beyond words.
"I can't... I can't take it anymore…"
Lucifer gasps, moans, his voice growing softer with every word, his body shaking from the excessive pleasure and the strain it is facing. His muscles are sore from all the constant contraction, and his eyes are fluttering. Your grip on him is tighter, your thrusts are quicker and smoother, every single sense in Lucifer's body is concentrated to the feeling of your body inside him, your bodies moving together in a steady rhythm.
You drag a long guttural moan, you feel so amazing inside Lucifer. Your breathing becomes quick and shallow as you feel an upcoming explosive sensation by every thrust.
"Love... Let go."
Lucifer whimpers and his body tenses up again. His voice is raspy and his eyes are rolling backwards. His whole body is in a state of sensory overload. Lucifer lets out a small whimper and loses any control of his muscles, the pleasuring sensation being too much for him. His breath is shallow, his muscles are constricting even without his command, and his body is shaking under the pleasure overload. A small smile appears on Lucifer's lips and he lets out a series of loud vocalizations as he reaches his climax.
The wave of pleasure washes over your body and all you can do is let out a long moan. You continue to stroke Lucifer's manhood through his climax as you desperately chase your own. Sweat builds up on your brows and your chest is heaving with each breath. Your breathing becomes shallow and the look in your eyes is pure bliss.
You look down at Lucifer's jiggling buttcheeks and how he swallows your manhood in every thrust. The erotic sight made you tremble. It seems impossible, but your manhood grew harder and harder inside your husband from the lewd sight alone. A few erratic thrusts of your hips sends you to overdrive as you reach your own euphoric climax. You press your body on top of Lucifer's back as your thrusts become slower, your semen dripping from Lucifer's flesh while your manhood is still inside.
"Love…" Lucifer's voice is exhausted and panting. You are the only thing he has eyes for right now. He closes his eyes fully, letting the sensation of your presence wash over him. His body is limp, his muscles have relaxed, and no thought has crossed his mind but the pleasure and the bliss he feels right now. His eyes are still half opened and he reaches for your arm, holding you tightly. The feeling of his husband's body all over him and inside him is intoxicating, even more so after he has spent himself completely.
You cup your husband's chin from behind and kiss him on the lips. You smile as you slowly pull out of Lucifer, making your semen drip down to his thighs and pools on the floor.
"I love you, Lucifer. I've missed you so much."
Lucifer can feel your warm hand on his chin but doesn't have the energy to open his eyes yet. The feeling of your fingers caressing his lips and the taste of your kiss make him tremble in pleasure. He swallows, breathes in a couple of times before he manages to open his eyes.
"I love you. I've missed you so much too."
Lucifer smiles. He turns his head to look at you, grabbing your arm and dragging you down beside him. He kisses your cheek and caresses your face, his fingers slowly moving deeper into your wet locks.
You step back and sit down on Lucifer's mahogany chair and pull his half naked body on your lap, letting the paperworks drop anywhere near the desk and on the floor. You kiss him once more and give him his needed aftercare.
"That was amazing." You smile at Lucifer with a satisfied expression.
Lucifer groans softly and settles down in your lap. He feels the comfort of your touch and the warmth of his breath wash over. He shuts his eyes and enjoys your hands running through his hair, caressing his shoulders and back, even though his body is still sensitive and he can feel the tingling of the small handprints. Lucifer sighs contently and opens his eyes, leaning into your chest, holding you tightly, his head resting on your shoulder.
"I love you so much." Lucifer whispers. No other words are needed.
#obey me smut#obey me fluff#obey me#obey me fanfic#lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me x reader#obey me x you#canon divergence#self insert#obey me x male reader#sub lucifer obey me#bottom lucifer obey me#i wanna peg lucifer honestly
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Protective!dom Jake Sully headcannons
Tw: casual dominance, lil bit of d/s dynamics, sir kink, pregnancy kink, overstim, cockwarming, bj, minors DNI 18+. If you like this post, pls help a writer out a reblog 💙
-On a hunt, he would always be looking out for you. He would tell you firmly, to never go ahead of him. You would listen of course. (You loved it when he took charge)
-He’d stop, holding you back with his big arm stretched out. “Not safe. Follow me,” he’d command, and then lead you behind him, his ears peeking up at the slightest noise, his cute nose scrunching, he’d smell the forest for danger :)
-He had to protect his mate after all!! His love for you was strong, every night you’d connect with him, your braids bound together, your tail twisted in his, you’d feel his heart, his mind, his body. He’d feel yours. His large body closed around your smaller one like a glove, a blanket.
-You’d lay there, looking into his big yellow eyes, you would trace his blue luminescent spots, especially the ones on his face. They were just so cute! (They were also on his cock, perfect for you to suck on him in the dark)
-You loved those moments with him, and he loved being close to you, especially too close.
- when you cuddled in the trees, he’d give you a little nip on the ear, you felt his sharp fangs graze your ears. That was a sign. “Want to be in you, baby girl,” he’d tell you, firm, dominant. “Yes, sir,” you’d reply, and immediately spread your legs for him.
-He’d chuckle (he loved being called sir, it only encouraged him to be more rough with you) and slides his thick fifteen inch cock into you, deeper and deeper; but then completely still. You hear his moan, his large face resting on your small shoulder. His heavy balls rest behind you, his large hands trailing to your front to push you closer to him:)
-“Much better,” he whispers, his voice deep. You snuggle into him, both of you are one, you have all of him connected to you. You never felt as safe, with your Jake holding you close, keeping you stuffed full with his throbbing cock…
-When you first got pregnant, his desire to protect, to claim you, only grew. He’d be more careful with you, as if you were made of glass. He’d rut into you more slowly, but you went feral from that look of adoration on his face. He was so proud of you for carrying his child, he bred you (and everyone knew) he truly made you HIS mate :) and you wouldn’t have it any other way!
Avatar tag list: @23victoria @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jake-sullys-whore @aerangi @brioffthegrid
#jake sully x reader#jake sully x fem!reader#jake sully smut#jake sully headcanon#jake sully x you#avatar smut#liz writes 🖤#liz’s masterlist#jake sully
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONKEY D. LUFFY
A/N: This was thrown together last minute so just a few fun things to say: 1. This is like..my first full-on smut writing?? I have no idea if I’m good at it or not so just keep that in mind when youre reading it. (also im too lazy and tired to edit this so I apologize for the typos) 2. This was basically my favorite request to do for Luffy’s birthday but thanks to everyone who submitted ideas :) I liked them all! And 3. Funnily enough this is my 100th post so just a big celebration post all around okay enjoy the sex now
Characters: gn reader (AFAB) x Luffy
Cw: sex - MINORS DNI, bondage, praise kink, orgasms, all that stuff (idk what to tag for smut i’ve never written it before)
Total word count: 1.5k
Summary: For Luffy’s birthday, you decide to let him try out a few new things in the bedroom
Birthday Wishes
MINORS - DNI
Luffy pulled on the ropes securing your wrists to the bed frame.
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
You laughed, peering up at him through your lashes. “I think you’re more nervous than me, Lu.”
A small grin appeared across his face, and he glanced down at your bare chest. His fingers circled your nipples, rolling them between his index finger and his thumb. He gave them a quick pinch, causing a heavy exhale to escape your lips.
“Just don’t wanna hurt you,” he mumbled, transfixed on your chest now. His mouth dipped down, sucking hard on your breast. He nipped at your hardened bud and quickly swirled his tongue to soothe the pain before you had time to register it.
Your wrists pull against the ropes, desperate to run your fingers through his soft hair. But your arms stay locked in place, and you lay below your captain, helpless.
Luffy pulls away from you for a moment, shifting over to your other mound. “You okay?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer, bending down to kiss and suck on your tender flesh. You whine in response, arching your back to try and grind into his body.
He mixes soft kisses and quick love bites across your chest, slowly moving upward to your neck, and then your cheeks. He hovers his lips above yours, his eyes lazily looking down at your face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he moans out, his breath tickling your skin.
His lips crash into yours, his tongue instantly invading your mouth. He pushed his tongue around your mouth, and you can taste the strawberry shake you shared earlier on his tongue.
He grinds into you, and you can feel his hardened cock still trapped in his shorts. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, rubbing against his groin. You moan from the sudden stimulation against your clit, and Luffy pulls away from you.
“Stay still,” he whines. He pushes your core back down against the mattress.
“Lu-ffy,” you pout, wiggling under his grip. You know he’s being gentle with you in this new setting, but he’s close to turning into the feral animal that you love to have in bed.
He gives you a goofy grin, and his fingers slip underneath your silk panties and into the slick folds of your dripping wet pussy.
His eyes widen at your wetness, and he slips two fingers inside your hole. Your hips roll, trying to push him further, wanting more of him in you. His breath is ragged and shallow as he watches your eyes roll back into your head. You’ve almost got him ready to go full force, you just need to edge him a little bit further.
“Luffy,” you whimper, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Make me cum.”
You can see his wide eyes shimmer with excitement, and you know he’s going to make you regret those words. His smile turns devious, and you gasp as his fingers leave your cunt. Your hips grind upwards, searching for more stimulation, but his hand presses you back down again.
“I said stay still.” His voice is more forceful now, and you can feel a cord in your stomach tighten at his words. He sits up to get a better view of you, his hands still pressed against your lower abdomen to keep you from moving.
You bite your lip as you watch his eyes rake over your body, devouring every last inch of you. You want nothing more than to yank his shorts down and free his cock, but you’re strapped to the bed, unable to move.
His fingers ghost across your skin to your each side of your waist, and then he hooks his index fingers around your panties and pulls. You lift your ass up, allowing your cunt to be free from the silky fabric, and Luffy quickly pulls your underwear off of you and tosses them to the side.
His eyes widened at your wetness, and his fingers rub up and down your folds, covering his fingers in your coating. He pushed a finger inside you slowly, and then quickly added a second one. He begins to move his fingers inside you, scissoring and curling them to hit your spongy area.
You close your eyes, letting your senses be overtaken by his movements. A whine escapes your lips to let him know he’s hitting the right spot, and you resist the urge to move your hips into him again. Your hands wrap around the ropes that are holding you in place, desperately for something to squeeze onto as the cord inside you pulls tighter and tighter.
He grins at the show you’re putting on for him, watching your face contort in pleasure. Finally deciding he’s put you through buildup, he leans down into your core, kissing the outer folds of your pussy.
“Luffy,” you beg, breathless from his movements. You know it’s his birthday, but you can’t help your neediness. “Please-”
His tongue dances along your slit as his fingers pump in and out of you, causing your breath to hitch.
He devours your slick, sucking extra hard on your clit. “God, you taste so sweet,” he slurs, drunk off your taste.
You clench against his fingers at his praise, and you can feel him smirk into your cunt. He looks up at you, his face covered in your cream. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”
You tighten around him again, and he grins at your enthusiasm. Your hands pull at your bindings, trying to help him.
“Just lay there,” Luffy coos. He pulled his fingers out of you and yanks at his pants, finally freeing his cock. It springs free, standing erect. You can see precum coating his tip, and you twitch in anticipation as you watch him give his cock a few quick strokes.
His eyes roam your body, watching you squirm beneath him. You pull at your bindings again, knowing it’s hopeless to get free.
Luffy moves back up to come face to face with you. He brushes the hair out of your eyes and plants a few kisses across your face, and you relax into his touch.
“Still okay?” He asked, looking intensely into your eyes.
You nod back to him and smile. “Just feeling a little useless, that’s all.”
“You’re not useless.” He pushed his cock into you in one quick motion, causing you to let out a loud gasp. He moaned in unison, pushing further until he completely bottomed out. “You’re perfect.”
He began moving inside of you, pumping slowly and then picking up speed. Lewd noises and squelches mixed in with both of your soft whines and moans, filling the room with a symphony of noises.
“Can I try something?” he asked, breathing heavily. He had a devious look in his eye that made you weary, but you nodded in agreement.
He leaned down and kissed your nose. “Tell me if it’s too much, mmkay?”
He pushed your knees against your chest to put you into a mating press, and pushed himself all the way inside of you. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, and you watched him curiously.
At first you thought it was just the position he wanted to try out, and then you felt his cock press against your walls even tighter than it was a moment before. You cried out in shock, feeling more full than you ever have in your life. Luffy always found a way to take advantage of those damn devil fruit powers.
He watched you, seeing the tears that pricked at your eyes. He waited for you to say something, but you were still breathless from his size change. Luffy waited for you to catch your breath, and then he slowly started moving again, dragging his engorged cock along your sensitive pussy. His thumb lazily circled your clit, causing your insides to clench against him.
“You’re so tight like this,” he groaned, picking up his pace again. You weren’t sure how he was even able to move inside of you, but his thrusts began to become erratic and deep.
You could feel your own pressure building in your gut, and you knew your climax was coming soon.
“Luffy-” you whined.
“Cum with me,” he demanded, and you obeyed.
Your gummy walls spasmed around him, feeling him paint your insides white with his cum. He continues to pump into you throughout your high, leaving you both breathless and shaking from exhaustion when you were finished.
Afterwards, he untied you and showers you with kisses, collapsing next to you.
“Did you have fun?” He asks.
“It’s your birthday, Luffy. Did you have fun?”
He pulls you into a spooning position, snuggling his head against your back.
“The most fun I’ve had in a while,” he mumbled.
“Me too,” you say, pressing back into him.
“Wanna go again?”
You smirk. “Who am I to deny the birthday boy?”
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece smut#monkey d. luffy#monkey d luffy#luffy#luffy x y/n#luffy x reader#luffy x you#luffy smut#cozage
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From Vormir, With Love - Part 1
Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.
Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on
Word count: 3.4k
A/n: I hate tumblr and its stupid shadowban function, but i love you guys too much so here you go! Hope you like that one
Taglist: tbd
You look up from the helm, where the lights are flashing warnings. Shit, that's bad, you think, the thrusters are about to die.
"Y/n! You need to finish that shit NOW!" You hear the voice coming from behind you, a metallic clang the only indication that your co-captain is trying to keep your spaceship afloat. "The thrusters are gonna crash in two minutes, top!"
Definitely bad, you remarks uselessly in your mind. You almost look back to tell her that you're doing your best but the ship shakes under a new hit from the enemy, and so, you keep your mouth shut for now.
"Alright, alright…" you mutter as you navigate closer to the planet.
It's a barren rock with bodies of liquid across the land, and a sun constantly eclipsed. You'd never been here before, but as you approach, you feel a profound dread knot in your stomach. You ignore the feeling and focus on the descent.
You feel the winds change around the ship as the resistance increases, and you find cover from the next burst of lasers that breaks some rocks clean off. You're far from it already when the rumble of the mutilated landscape reaches your ears. You fly through a narrow pass before the opportunity you were looking for presents itself. You shot two blasts towards the ground where steam escaped from rocky cones. The crusty dirt flies around you and heavy plumes of steam escape from everywhere under the sudden pressure and destruction, offering you cover and scrambling the heat sensors of the enemy ship. You make a brutal turn to face them once you reach the other end of the geysers' field, and as it appears in front of you, you fire, destroying it and flying through the debris it leaves behind.
"Hell yeah! June! Have you seen that?!" You turn around, and your eyes go wide when you notice black ashes appearing in the cockpit. As it happens, the thrusters start to fail.
"We're gonna crash, Y/n, look at the damn road!"
"There are no roads in the sky!"
There is screaming, and you manage to stabilize your ship before it finally crashes. You groan, feeling like every bone in your body is about to break, and you look around you.
"Everyone okay?" You ask, and you're answered by various sounds and confirmations that no one is hurt. "Perfect. Now." You get off your seat and unholster your blaster, pointing it at the head of one of the newly appeared people. "What the fuck just happened?"
The newly appeared people you don't recognize, but you know what they are. Aliens. Slavers. And now the question is: will you have to fight for your life, because those assholes look very well equipped, better than you and June after you spent years in space with little resources. You look in the fully black eyes of the alien with long saber-tooth cats-like fangs.
"You tell us, human," he answers. "We're just the maintenance crew."
"Very well armed for a maintenance crew," you sass and he growls.
"This is just a vacuum." As he says that, he reaches for the weapon strapped to his back. "Look." He pushes a button and the very distinct sound of air being aspirated resonates between the walls of the ship. Your brows knit together, but you put your weapon down.
"Weird place to keep a vacuum but okay…" you mutter as you look at the rest of the crew in overalls. They seem harmless enough, besides from the predator teeth guy. You offer him a hand and he takes it to help himself up. "My name is Y/n."
"I'm Tim," he says in a rumble, and you frown.
"Tim? That's a very human name."
"Don't insult me. It means great warrior in my language. Tim."
"I swear, it's a human name."
"Are you sure your translator isn't broken?" He groans and shows his teeth, his ears falling flat against his cranium, so you decide to drop the subject. No need to antagonize your new guests.
"Anyway, guess you were taking care of the ship when you got dusted."
"Dusted?"
Oh boy. You had to catch those aliens about everything that happened, that was going to be a pain in the ass, so you decide your best course of action. "JUNE!"
There, that should get you out of trouble. Your best friend and crewmate finally emerges from the ship's entrails and looks around. "What the–"
You shrug. Her problem now. You let yourself fall back on your seat while you consult the star map.
LMC-H 13g.
Or at least that's what the translation is giving you. In any case, it clearly isn't Earth. You let out a deep sigh, and it gets the attention of someone in the ship that you barely noticed until then. One of the aliens that reappeared stops listening to June's explanation and approaches. She's less threatening than the others, with a tall body but frail members with three joints, like those of a praying mantis. She also sports the features of an insect on her face, and you suspect she might not be as frail as she appears. You eye her suspiciously, her fully black eyes staring at you with a chilling intensity. You can't help but put your hand on your weapon.
"I don't mean any harm," she reassures you with a raspy, almost tantalizing voice, mandibules clicking around her mouth. "I just want to know where we are."
You still your hand, but don't move it away, simply orient the arm on which the coordinates' screen is suspended to show it to her. You don't even want to attempt to pronounce it.
"Vormir…" she whispers. You feel the fear in her voice, see it in the way her mandibules move nervously.
"Vormir?" You ask back, looking for information. During the last few years, you learned that information held lots of power. Before that, you thought it was a saying that only made sense in books while you lead a peaceful life on Earth.
Her black scleras and irises turn back to you. Her lateral lids close in a microsecond. "It's a bad place, I heard whispers of people disappearing around this system, or weird frequencies coming from here. We should go as soon as we can."
"Wish we could, but the bastard after us fried our thrusters. We're gonna need to get them working again."
"Are people after you?" You wince at her question, but nod. The insect-like alien nervously rubs her eye with her arm as she looks away. Not the most disturbing sight you witnessed before. "Who?"
You point at the insignia on her overall, a circular patch with a blue 'x' with a white star on each bronze section it makes. It's the flag of an alien race living on the edge of known space and civilization, nomads slavers with barely anything to scrap by because they are chased around by most known authorities.
"Those guys." You decide to keep the reason why to yourself, since you know nothing of your stowaways for now. "We bought something under their nose and they didn't like it," you lie. The alien's mandibule seems to nod at the explanation.
"Explains why you threatened us. But we're nothing like them."
You adjust your position and the screen you moved earlier as a sign that you were getting back to work. "We'll see about that."
The conversation is over, she understands, and you look at the star chart. This was supposed to be your last mission before you could get back to Earth, so of course you had to get unlucky. You let out a new sigh and got up to grab your exploration material. The ship already told you outside was safe to breathe, but the gravity was slightly higher than on Earth. Seems like I'm getting my workout in, you think and giggle to yourself before covering it with a cough.
With that, you equip your toolbelt and your protections, in case an enemy survived your attack and subsequent crash.
"I'm gonna check the enemy crash site," you tell June who is recounting to the others what happened the previous five years. The door's pneumatics hiss when you press the button to open it, and soon you have a platform to get outside. When you touch down on the ground, you look around. This place really is just a rock with a few big puddles. That's going to make walking around a lot more annoying.
You set out into the unknown.
Walking around the planet is hard, but you quickly get used to it. You find a good rhythm and settle into it, which allows you to arrive only after twenty minutes to the other crash site. Bits and pieces of the ship litter the ground around you, some on fire, along with some body parts. You approach a charred body and give it a small kick, almost to make sure it's truly dead, before you keep walking around. It's easy to find an opening inside the ship through a hatch. The metal floor resonates under your feet when you land inside, and you look around. The dying lights flash like a gas station neon tube about to surrender, so you get your flashlight on before you set to look around the silent ship. You see a few more bodies around, and after taking anything useful they have on them, you keep walking. You're quick to find the command room, and once there, you approach an operating workstation. It takes a few minutes for you to get it running - after working with that technology for five years you're used to it now - and you navigate the applications, where you find the one giving you the general state of the ship. You save that information so you can bring it back to June, and if you're lucky, it will save you time on repairs.
After a quick round on the ship and no enemy in sight, you go back to your own ship.
*
"A week," June announces, her eyes on schematics you can't even begin to comprehend.
"We don't have enough resources to survive a week here," you whisper to her. "Not if we have to take care of those guys too." You point your finger to the sleeping aliens in the ship. They had to find whatever spot was available, as there were five of them, and only four beds - two belonging to June and you.
"Why are we even helping them? You've seen their uniforms, they're the enemy," she comments and finally looks at you.
You look at them.
"I mean, they're not really like them, so, they were probably slaves too. And they haven't been hostile."
Your friend sighs, and you shrug. She always says you have a soft heart, and maybe she's right, but right now what else were you supposed to do? Leave them there to their own device? They would die.
"I looked at the other ship's schematics, their rations should have survived the crash. At least their water."
June opens a plan for you to look at, and you lean closer to get a better look. You remember walking by the door she's showing you, but it was locked and you had no way to open it.
"Alright, I'll go back tomorrow to open it." You declare. "Or at least try to," you add, less assurance in your voice while the plan disappears in favor of some ship's part.
But as you discuss repairs with June, you fail to notice the slitted pupils staring at your back.
*
The feeling of dread never goes away, no matter how long you're staying on the deserted planet, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it stays at the back of your mind, like an itch you can't scratch.
The good news is that with some of your new friends you manage to salvage enough resources to repair your ship. The bad news is that you keep failing at opening the food compartment, and your rations are dwindling way too fast. After three days, you're starting to see the end of it and the urgency to open that damn door is weighing heavily on your shoulders. You kept working on it the last few nights, and tonight you're going back to it. You're now used to the small trek across the wasteland and can do it without any trouble, but as you do this time, you feel like someone is staring at you. No matter how much you look around, you don't see anyone, so you put it on the account that you're tired and walking at night. You reach the crashed ship, then the door, and to your surprise you find it open. Immediately you reach for your weapon. The now familiar weight in hand, you take a step inside the room.
Packages of dehydrated food litter the room, with some jugs of water. They probably fell from the shelves during the crash, but they still seem intact. You look around, your heart beating against your ear and your breath heavy with adrenaline despite your attempt at not making any noise. You reach a corner at the end of a line of shelves, putting your back against the left one before you surge in the corner, weapon pointed in front of you to look both right then left. No one is there, and you let out a sigh of relief.
"Guess whoever was there already left," you tell yourself in an attempt to regain your composure, letting your weapon lay low. You briefly wonder who else could be there. Was the planet inhab–
You swallow hard when you feel the cold metal at the back of your head.
"You guessed wrong," the cold, feminine voice rings in your ears. Fuck. You should have been more careful, now you're fucked. But not dead, you think as the firearm recedes. "Put your weapon on the ground, your hands up, then turn around, slowly."
You do as you're told, slowly reaching to the ground where you put your weapon, before you stand up and put your hands in the air. With fear in your guts, you turn around. The stranger is in the shadows, and you can't see her beside her silhouette.
You finally gather the courage to speak. "Who are you?"
Despite your best efforts, your voice shakes slightly when you talk. The woman steps forward, out of the shadow, and for a second you forget all your fears. Not only are you surprised to see she's human, but she's also gorgeous. Her red hair is tied in a braid, the strands degrading to blond towards the end. She has the bluest eyes you've ever seen before, and her face is perfect, with a pretty nose and full lips - too bad she is frowning and pointing a gun at you currently. You can't help but feel like you've seen her somewhere before.
"I'm the one asking the questions," she says, and you're not in a position to negotiate, so you nod. "What are you doing on Vormir?"
"I was on a retrieval mission, but I got tailed and now I'm grounded here," you answer, leaving out the small detail that you aren't alone. "I'm just here to get some supplies."
You know you have to look as little of a threat as possible if you want to get out of here alive. You see the cogs turn in her head before she speaks again. "What happened to the ones who were after you?"
Your eyes wander away from the woman. "They're a bit everywhere around us," you answer with a grimace. So much for looking harmless. She squints her eyes at you.
"Does that mean you have a ship with you?" You can see where she's getting at, and you frown. You answer with a simple nod right before something moves at the corner of your eye.
Suddenly, a massive form tackles the woman in front of you and pushes her against a shelf in a roar, her gun being thrown away in the impact.
Tim. Did he follow you here? Shit. You don't have the time to say or do anything, the woman is throwing Tim away with barely any difficulty. One of the shelf topples and you have to jump away so you don't get crushed. You look around and see she's reaching for her weapon. By reflex, you jump on it and grab it before she can reach it, pointing it at her. She kicks it out of your hands in the air and her hand reaches up, but before she can catch it Tim is back up and charges at her. She has to put one hand on his shoulder before she jumps above him and falls back on her feet gracefully, almost like a dancer.
You flap your hand once or twice, to shake off the pain, looking at Tim and the mysterious woman having it out. She clearly has the advantage, but if Tim manages to actually hit her even once he would probably do a lot of damages. You have to find a way to stop them, because you were pretty sure the woman just needed a ride, and Tim intervened only when he saw she was a threat - but was she, really?
You grab your own weapon while no one is paying you any mind, and fire a round to the ceiling. It bounces back, almost grazing you. You manage to keep your face calm and barely avoid a yelp, but still you clear your throat.
"Okay, that's enough you two!" They pause, Tim his claws up in the air, ready to strike, the woman in a low, close to the ground fighting pose. You point at Tim. "First, what are you doing here?"
"I followed you. You were acting suspicious," he explains, and you sigh.
"I was looking for food, trying not to have people panic."
"You did so good…" he mumbles sarcasticly and the redhead snickers. You send him a glare.
"You, do you need a ride? Cause if so, no need to threaten me. Sheesh." You roll your eyes, and she arches an eyebrow.
"I had to make sure you wouldn't try to kill me."
That makes you groan and you pass your hand on your face, bringing your loose strand of hair back only for them to fall around your face again.
"I think I can try to contain myself," you say with a hint of sarcasm while you holster your weapon. "Tim?"
He groans and crosses his arms, ears still halfway flattened on his head. "I won't attack you again." There is a growl coming from the back of his throat, but it seems to be more out of annoyance than a threat.
"Perfect. Everyone grabs as much food and water, and we're going back to the ship."
You turn your back to the both of them and start throwing everything you can in your backpack and pockets. The other two follow suit while they avoid each other. As you're stuffing your pockets, you feel a presence next to you and then hear the woman playing with a crackling packet.
"What's your name?" She finally asks, and you scoff.
"An apology first would be nice," you mumble, then sigh. "Y/n Y/ln. What about you?"
"Natasha," she answers simply, and that's when it clicks.
She's Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. Shit. Fuck. You decide to play it cool and not reveal right now that you know who she is.
"What are you doing on this rock?" You decide to ask, even though you feel she won't give you an honest answer. "It's not exactly a great holiday destination."
"Tell me about it." Something flashes in her eyes and you barely catch it before it's gone. "I was trying to find something here."
"What were you trying to find?" You find yourself pushing.
"Solace." Her eyes navigate the darkness in front of her, but you feel like she's contemplating a very different one, something inside of herself. That makes you tilt your head, and you decide not to push much more. You close your now full backpack.
"We should head back now. Tim, you got everything you could?" You ask when you find him between two rows of shelves. He linked a few jugs of water together and is now carrying them around with his muscular arms.
"Water for weeks." He eyes the redhead. "What about you, humans? Found anything?"
You nod. "Let's get back to the ship." You start to walk towards the door. "June really won't like what I'm going to tell her," you mumble to yourself as you exit the ship.
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EXCHANGE/LOVE TRANSIT - S01/EP01 (pt i)
♥ SYNOPSIS: Soonyoung is a man on a mission to get his ex back, even if this means enduring watching her going on dates in a reality TV show - ok maybe he didn't think it through when he thought it was a good idea to go on said tv show. Alternatively; Soonyoung love transit episode.
♥ GENRE: (this is me trying to do) comedy, romance, a little dash of angsty (because they are exes and because it is me writing it I guess);
♥ CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6925
♥ FEATURING: Wen Junhui as Soonyoung's number one enemy, Xu Minghao, Lee Chan, Boo Seungkwan as a cranky panelist, Seo Changbin as a normal panelist, Girls Day Yura just because I love her, Pi Cheolin as a panelist that nobody knows why he has been cast but he makes it work.
♥ PLAYLIST: 1. VINTAGE - NIKI, 2. LAS JORDANS - TINI, 3. CALL ME - RENGGA JONES, 4. STILL INTO YOU - PARAMORE, 5. LOVE LIKE THAT - SAM KIM, 6. TENTA ACREDITAR - ANAVITÓRIA, 7. URS - NIKI
♥ THEA’S NOTE: Hello hi hi everyone. I’ve been weirdly obsessed with Love transit/Exchange for quite a while. For those who have never watched it, they put 10 people together in a house - 5 couples, and make them go on a date with different people. The funny thing is that you can’t tell people who your ex is. Also after a long debate with myself, I decided to post this as a multichapetered fic. Anyways welcome to part 1, hope you enjoy it.
♥ If you want to read the rest of this/ be tagged click here ♥
♥ LOVE TRANSIT MASTERLIST
[INTERVIEW ROOM][CAMERA 1]
“Do you know you have to think about other options too, right?” The producer asks him. The giant camera is way too close to his face and the producer is sitting just under it - in a little stool that looks utterly uncomfortable. Soonyoung wants to face her, but before this question she told him three different times he needs to stare right at the camera. He is sitting so still that he can feel the energy accumulating on his body, making him almost quick in his seat.
“I am not interested in that,” Soonyoung answers - staring at the camera and trying to not blink too much even if the lights of the studio hurt his eyes.
“But the point of this program is that you are open to dating other people and let her date other people as well,” the producer insisted, and Soonyoung almost laughed. He knows that, for fucking sakes he only got his date because he is a master in rock paper scissor and his ex went on a date with fucking Junhui. He knows the point of everything, he just doesn't really care.
“Like I said, I am not interested in that, my goal with this,” He tries to explain, using his hand to point at everything, the set actually looked way better on camera and it was very flimsy in real life, and everytime he thinks he will break a fake wall. “Is that we get back together,” he grins confidently, “Sorry pd nim but we will get back together before this end.”
He hears the producer groan, he is pretty sure she shouldn’t be groaning and this won’t go to the final cut. He thinks the audio people will handle it, they probably will put a fade in music or whatever, they are professionals.
[EX-CHANGE HOUSE][CAMERAS 2, 3, 4]
When the assistant producer says that he can start walking and enter the house, Soonyoung is ready to just run. But he holds himself back, instead of running he just puts down the handle of his suitcase and grips on the strap. Like that, he thinks, it will be faster than strolling around. He starts walking, the weight on his suitcase is heavy on his arms but he is committed to that already, he won’t ask for the assistant guy to re-do his shot, and he won’t change his mind midway either, it is now a matter of pride. Soonyoung is proud - his ex always told him that - he is too proud for his own good.
He is proud enough to not drop his suitcase when he opens the gate and steps greets him, Soonyoung just groans, because he is proud but not a fool. Ok, maybe he is a fool, again, according to his ex but he likes to think that since they broke up he is a changed man. Eight months is enough time to be reborn into a new man according to Soonyoung experience. He changed his hair, it is way shorter now, and cooler - he likes to think. A few of his friends joked about his short bangs and almost shaved sides but he likes it and he even has a cool slit in his eyebrow. He also changed his clothes, he pays more attention to his clothes now and even his ex would agree with that one - or he hopes so.
His personality didn’t change that much but Soonyoung likes to think he can see things clearly now - like a fog has come down. He always was good with his goal, he stuck to it, he finished things, he was disciplined and he was focused. But he wasn’t very good with balance. His girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend, always talked about how he had those bursts of hyperfocus, she explained back then how he could dance for hours and hours without feeling his body getting exhausted but he couldn’ focus on a single task if he found anything remotely boring. But he is better now, he worked for long months on how he didn’t need to give up in other aspects of his life to succeed professionally. He learned that he doesn’t need to spend twenty hours per day in his dance studio, he learned to trust other people in that aspect.
Damn too many steps, Soonyoung thinks when he finally arrives at the door. He looks around and presses the numbers on the digital keypad, the same assistant producer guy told him a few numbers - he actually wrote down in his note app, he knows himself that he will forget in no time. But the numbers are fresh enough in his head and the doors open. Soonyoung looks around the hall and he thinks he is the first one. Well. Cool. Soonyoung drops his suitcase in the hall and takes off his shoes, walking around without a slipper on - he can’t really bother to search for one right now. He starts looking around, cameras are scattered around the house greeting him in every room.
It is fascinating really, to be a part of the tv show, Soonyoung thinks while he gives the camera in the kitchen a little hand wave. He opens the fridge and it actually has a lot of booze, damn, he is not a good drinker. He goes around the kitchen checking for appliances and almost starts the coffee machine without knowing, he was just pressing random buttons. He hopes the producer teams cut this part. After almost burning his hand with hot water he goes to the living room, one of the walls is completely glass and it makes the sun enter the house, the view of the garden is pretty cool, and there is another staircase outside leading to somewhere. The glass is so clean that when Soonyoung touches it just to see his fingertip smudges it. He exhale thought his mouth, fogging the window and draws with his fingertip a doodle - the same shape of his eyes but with a snout, a little tiger Soonyoung thinks proud of himself, when he turns around another camera is facing him and he just show his work while smiling.
There is another stair leading to the second floor. Weird obsession to have, Soonyoung thinks, staircases. He jumps two steps at a time. He roams around - the rooms seem nice, 3 upstairs and another living room, no television and thank god no cameras in the bathroom. He gets bored after a while, so he goes down to the main floor and sits on the sofa - politely, his hand on his knees. But that too gets boring really quick so he starts kicking his feets around, he did good, Soonyoung thinks to himself, he really chose a good sock today so he is not too worried he is shoeless walking around, his black socks are amazing.
After what seems like three whole hours the door opens again, he hears the sound of the padlock and his heart jumps against his chest, he almost hop on the sofa, the amount of energy he has in his body is enough to make him vibrate like a cellphone receiving a call. He stretches his neck trying to see who it is before the person enters the living room. He sees the shoes before he can actually see the person and for the size of those damn feet Soonyoung knows it is not his ex. A good looking guy enters the room, getting all shy when he sees Soonyoung.
“Hello,” the good looking guy greets him and his voice is on the lower side, Soonyoung thinks he looks so cool.
“Hello,” Soonyoung began, “I am Kwon Soonyoung,” he offered first, “your name?” he says when the good looking guy just stares at him.
“Ah, right,” the guy sitting across from Soonyoung began, “I am Jun, Wen Junhui actually, but you can call me Jun.”
“Jun,” Soonyoung mutters, it fits his name, the guy is a little weird Soonyoung thinks but it is okay.
“So, what's your favorite color?” Soonyoung asks him because he is not allowed to ask anything else really. No question about Jun’s ex, he can’t know his age either, and they are prohibited to talk about their jobs, so Soonyoung tries to make small talk in any way he can.
They fall into a weird silence after a few questions. “This is awkward,” Junhui admitted after a bit making Soonyoung laugh.
After a few minutes another guy arrives, Xu Minghao is his name and Soonyoung is pretty sure he is part of a gothic or emo band. A girl arrives after that, she is cute Soonyoung gives her that but he is not really interested. Then another girl and again a pretty girl because of course. When the fourth guy arrives Soonyoung starts to think that maybe you bailed out and the producer team might be looking for an actress to play his ex, who knows. They are in the middle of asking the blond guy his name and his color, everyone introducing themselves to the new guy when he finally hears the door again. His blood is rushing through his body. When you enter the door a ray of sunshine goes through the window and illuminates all around you, almost like a halo. Soonyoung looks behind him to check if any staff is pointing something at you but nothing.
“Hi,” you greeted looking at everyone, Soonyoung smiled at you, and damn you are even more beautiful how was that possible.
“Wow,” The blond guy says at his side, Lee Chan, he thinks and that alone makes Soonyoung perk up a little bit, “you are shoeless,” the guy added pointing at your feet.
“Ah,” You breathed, your voice low. Soonyoung knows you are shy and before he could say anything Junhui guy was already up and walking around, “I couldn’t really find a slipper.”
“Here,” Junhui gives you a pair of slippers - wait - what about him? Soonyoung thinks but apparently he doesn’t deserve Jun’s attention even though he tried his best to be polite and friendly, and before he knows he is pouting, damn.
When everyone falls silent again, Soonyoung thinks it is his time to shine, “Your name?” he asks politely, trying his best to not make clear that he is still heads over heels over you just with a simple question.
They go around names again but everything is weirdly muffed when Soonyoung focuses on you. Your hair is different now, longer he thinks. You repeat every name, the girls first then Junhui, Chan, Minghao and Soonyoung. He is the last one and he hates every name that falls off your tongue that is not his own. Soonyoung, you mumbled like everyone else's names, and it hits Soonyoung that it has been months since you called his name, and he misses it.
“Does anyone know how to cook?” Lee Chan asks, and Soonyoung is sure he will be the youngest one, there is something in him that just screams maknae.
“I-” Jun starts but when all the eyes turn into him he stutters a little bit and gets shy with all the attention, meanwhile Soonyoung just sharpens his gaze towards the guy, “I can fix something up to dinner.”
“I can help,” you declare, lifting up your hand like you are back in school or something, you are so cute, Soonyoung almost giggles, “I can do the basics so if you need any help,” you say to Jun and then it dawns on Soonyoung and before he knows he is lying through his teeth;
“I can help too,” Soonyoung volunteers, almost raising his hand like a kid in school, “I am a great cook.”
Everyone looks at him but he can only focus on the way you look at him - you know he is lying, and for a second he thinks everyones knows it too even though they just met, but he will die on this hill, he can pretend he is putting a salad together for all the people who don’t eat meat even though he is pretty sure everyone's eat meat, but he is thoughtful like that.
“Okay, so you three can go to the market and cook dinner,” says one of the girls that Soonyoung can't remember the name, “we can clean the kitchen and also the guys can help us with all the suitcases, and we sort out the rooms after dinner.”
[CAR AND MARKET][OUTSIDE CAMERA + GOPRO N 3]
“This is weird isn't it?” The Jun guy asks when you finally sit in the backseat, Soonyoung is in front of you and everything does seem incredibly weird.
“What exactly?” You ask and you hear Soonyoung laugh for the first time in a while and you don’t even know what you feel - everything seems weird, the fact that one go pro is right at your face is weird, the fact that you are in the same vehicle as Kwon Soonyoung is weird, the fact that you said yes to this weird ass idea was weird too.
“I mean,” Jun starts again, falling silent when he starts reversing the car to get out of the garage, “everything? I feel like only now everything is real and it is so weird like, what do you I will be living with my ex for a month.”
“Right?” Soonyoung pipes up, “aren’t you guys excited about that?” he asks and before you or Jun can speak up he starts again, “I am super hyped!”
“You are?” Jun asks, astonished, and you can’t blame him. One of the greatest problems in your relationship was the fact that you and Soonyoung worked somehow on different wavelengths. Soonyoung is someone that is difficult to follow, but once you know him you can start figuring out his patterns and way of thinking - he is predictable, he has a routine into his own madness.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Soonyoung says, looking at Jun and turning his whole body to look at you in the backseat, you just shrug because what else can you do really? Tell him that he is insane was not an option, that alone would make it clear that Soonyoung was your ex.
“I think the fact that this program entails living with your ex for one,” Jun says dead seriously and it is your time to laugh. You thought you would be the last one in terms of thinking this program is a good idea but apparently this Jun guy is beating you to it.
Soonyoung keeps talking about how excited he is and how fun it will be, he goes on and on about how this is an one in a lifetime type of opportunity and you know that even if he sounds a bit over the top he is being honest, and that he is - even if you and Jun finds extremely weird - very excited for it. But it is Soonyoung so of course you should’ve seen that coming.
And after just a few minutes you think that even though he cut his hair, Soonyoung didn’t change that much, when you say you are picking up a basket he is already by your side taking it off your hands, “Let me carry this and you focus on the ingredients,” he says like he has some sort of a plan but deep down you know he won’t let you carry all the weight - you always complain about having wrist pain, tendonitis is a bitch, the fact that Soonyoung still remembers make your heart grow, like a air ballon.
Back then when you were together every time you were at home he would make you drop your phone, computers were also extremely prohibited to use. If your wrist brace were on he would even attempt to feed you - you always hated that and he always threw a fit about it.
“Jun,” you call the guy walking ahead of you mindlessly, “Do you have something in mind?”
“Hmmm,” the guy ponders and you almost laugh at his confused face. He is cute. You give him that but you think that giggling at his face would be too much for one of your first interactions. “Not really,” he says scratching the back of his neck and you can feel the smile forming on your face.
“We should grill meat,” Soonyoung says proudly, bringing you back to reality, “We could buy meat.”
“I actually can make a side dish with fried vegetables,” you try, looking around to see if you can find anything to put together for dinner.
“Oh nice,” Soonyoung pipes up, giving you two thumbs ups. What a dork, but that was Soonyoung and you were used to it, at him acting like you hung the moon in the sky every time you did something that every other adult human could do. You give him a thumbs up back, and when he smiles get even bigger you think you should just run away from this whole thing.
“Then we could also buy some noodles and put everything together,” Jun says “I have a receipt that I think will work together with your veggies.”
“Great, we can cook together while Soonyoung grill the meat,” you say before you start walking by Jun’s side in a vain attempt to run away from Soonyoung.
Soonyoung acts like a kicked puppy.the whole trip to the market. Always behind you, sometimes you bump into him when you spin around looking for Jun to know if you should grab or not grab a pack of soft tofu or a pack of broccoli.
When you pick up onions or carrots, Soonyoung acts like it is the smartest thing ever, and your heart grows a little bit bigger - another pump of air. You think about how Soonyoung is still very much the same person he always was; caring and kind. Every time he assures you in a low voice like he is telling someone a secret - you can take both - he says to you when you ponder if you should buy a red or white wine, you don’t even know if other people enjoy wine but Soonyoung knows you do, and before you can think twice he grabs one bottle of each and put in the basket.
You think that this Soonyoung is the Soonyoung that you missed the most. Of course you missed the loud one, the life of the party, the one who among your friends would make his mission to get people tipsy and happy even though he can’t drink for shit. You miss the one that would make people stand up and sing and dance and every single one of your friends would get so shy while his friend would act like getting up in the middle of a bar or restaurant was not insane behavior. But this Soonyoug, the soft spoken Soonyoung - the one who would always give you assurance when you thought one of your articles was bad, the Soonyoung who always listened to you when you thought you should drop one investigation because your editor didn’t thought the piece was relevant enough, the one who when things were thought was serious and calm to listen to your every word and actually pay attention, you missed him the most, and you missed him the longest because that one vanished before you broke up.
“Stop,” you say in the lowest voice possible, bumping into him so he can give you space.
“What?” He asks - doing the exact opposite of your wishes, he drops his head even closer to you in an attempt to hear you.
“You are making it so clear that you are my ex,” You blurt out shoving Soonyong lightly, “Stop that it is supposed to be a secret.”
“I am not doing anything,” He deflected with a pout on his mouth, and it was kind of cute and you want to beat yourself up. How can you be down so bad for him? You need to get your mind straight to survive. You need at least a 5 meters distance from him.
“You are, go follow Jun,” you say, “or grab a snack or two, we are probably going to drink something”
“Ok, I can grab snacks,” Soonyoung beams, his smile back on his face, “I am great at snacks.”
“Sure you are.” You added.
You look at the camera man holding the camera a few meters away and you exhale.
Could you survive this? Could you survive 30 days of Soonyoung being back in your life? This was a dumb idea, you think while looking at the ice cream fridge, and of course it was a Sonyoung idea. You should’ve said no.
[EXCHANGE HOUSE][CAMERA 5, 7, 9]
“Why are you guys dressed up as powerpuff girls,” Soonyoung hears his ex speak up before he can ever see the other girls. Sometimes he thinks he has tunnel vision - his focus is on you, there is no space left for anyone else.
When he settles down the plastic bags on the kitchen counter and almost runs towards the living room, still a little bit weird, to have his ex right there and not be able to openly talk to her. The whole trip to the market was a torture - going to the market was something you always did with him when you were together. Soonyoung couldn’t cook to save his life so whenever you two would spend time together in his place you needed a market trip.
If Soonyoung tried hard enough you made him creamy garlic chicken pasta, his favorite. Even if you said you were already sick of eating it every week. You also made very good eggs for breakfast. Soonyoung misses those moments the most; the routine of waking up with you, he always waited for you to wake up, sometimes while you made a cup of coffee Soonyoung would run to the nearest baker and buy fresh bread.
“What?” The girl in the green tracksuit says making Soonyoung return to earth. She is setting the table and she looks so offended that he thinks she might drop a plate or two.
“Chan,” His ex called the guy that just arrived in the living room, how are you so good with names? How has Chan's name engraved in your brain already? Soonyoung almost forgot his own name today - not his ex's name though, that one he remembers, “look,” you say pointing at each one, a coy smile on her face, “Buttercup, Blossom and Bubbles.”
“Yeah, I can see it,” Chan says laughing way over too enthusiastically it wasn’t even that funny.
“Who will be the mojo jojo?” Blossom - of course the girl in red, Soonyoung understands it now, asks.
“I don't know but that leaves me as princess morbucks and I kind of hate it,” you complain, “yellow is so not my color.”
Soonyoung wants to say that you look great in yellow. That you look good in everything, that you never once looked bad in your life, but he thinks that that alone would be too much and everyone would know you are his ex, so he doesn’t say anything. He bites his own tongue - he really does and it hurts.
And if the market trip was bad, making dinner was even worse. Everything seemed awkward, you almost didn’t talk with him or Jun, thank god, but everytime you did Jun would giggle and Soonyoung thought about how that was the worst moment of his life - only second for the day of you breaking up. Jun seemed like a very shy and giggly guy, he was indeed charming, and Soonyoung hated that - he was never really a jealous guy but now here he is, freaking out because you are being nice to someone you just met.
Soonyoung thinks he is one step closer to losing his mind. Thirty days of this? He is definitely walking out of this house completely crazy. And what is even worse? Soonyoung told you three different times how he brought chicken breast, and not even once you talked about how you make a mean chicken pasta, and he has been craving that for months now. He once tried eating in a restaurant but didn’t hit the same spot.
“Can I ask you guys something?” Bubbles asks in a low voice, a cup of beer and soju in her hands. There is still a little bit of food on Soonyoung’s plate, mind you it is his second plate but he is just extremely hungry, new experiences makes him hungry. But almost everyone is finished, just munching on a few bites of meat that Soonyoung grilled - he is proud that he didn’t really burn half of it.
“Shoot,” Blossoms beams with a smile.
“Do you guys,” Bubbles starts, she sips on her drink again and he can’t blame her for relying on liquid courage. “Do you guys still have feelings for your ex or that would be weird?”
“I do,” Soonyoung says and you almost get a whiplash, the way that those words leave his mouth is so confident, so sure of his own feelings that make your head spin, “I don’t think it is weird, I mean it depends how it ended, how long was your relationship, how was your relationship,” he finishes with a shrug.
“Wouldn’t that make everything even worse?” Jun pipes up, he says not looking at anyone in particular, looking a little lost on his own feelings. Soonyoung thinks that is the booze, maybe Jun is a worse drinker than him, maybe Soonyoung wins this round. Take that Wen Junhui, Soonyoung 1, Wen Junhui 0.
“I agree with him,” you say pointing at Jun. What the fuck? Is it a tie now?
And you do in fact agree with him. Even since you stepped foot in this house and saw Soonyoung for the first time you wished you were completely over him, but apparently your heart didn’t receive the memo. Because here you were, your heart skipping a beat like a teenager everytime Soonyoung even looked at you.
“Why?” Bubbles ask you, her eyes are so big and so focused that you stutter a bit. She seems truly curious about your opinions and the way your brain was wired, even though she didn’t really seem curious about Jun.
“I just,” You stop to think a little, Soonyoung eyes are glued on you, and now you are the one who needs liquid courage but your glass is empty, “I will have to help the other girls date my ex right?” You added while looking for another beer, “that alone would be even worse if I still had feelings for my ex right?”
“I agree,” Chan says, “but i think that will be weird even if you don’t have feelings for your ex too like it is something it is weird to share in any type of situation.”
“I am the only one then?” Soonyoung asks laughing, he eats another bite of Junhui's noodles and your veggies, and drinks a gulp of his coke. He is a terrible drinker and he won’t cry on the first night.
“I don’t think you are,” Minghao starts, “but I think there are different levels to it, I am not completely over my ex either but I don’t think we should get back together so like, 70% over?”
“I am a hundred percent,” Buttercup says and you start laughing because she is so blunt, “no guys seriously,” she fusses around, “my ex is great, but I think before we broke up we already knew we were over?” She babbled again while someone pressed a cold glass on your arm. When you look at Jun giving you another glass full of beer. “Like, we are friends now and we are cool but 100% over.”
“But even if you are totally over it, being in the same house doesn't shake you up?” Blossoms asks, “because I was like that and being here and sharing this space is fucking me up.”
“Not in my case, no,” Buttercup answers, “what about you?” she says asking you
“Me?” You want to say you are over, you want to say you no longer have feelings for you ex, and you want to be cool and collected like the others, but the way Soonyoung eyes tingles when he looks at you makes you feel like you are a lonely balloon, some kid is hold you down by a flimsy thread, shaking when the wind blows; “I have no idea what I feel right now, I am all over the place.” You groan before drinking from the glass Jun handed to you.
“Ok, not over your ex then,” Buttercup says and makes the whole group laugh but Soonyoung giggles is the only one that rings in your ear.
“You are not the only one you can chill,” Minghao says to Soonyoung and Soonyoung laughs again.
“Thanks god,” Soonyoung cackled, “Imagine being the only one here who still has feelings, but I still think you guys are the weird ones.”
And it is your time to laugh. The group keeps going around asking questions, sometimes it fades to an awkward silence and Soonyoung is the one who speaks up about something completely random to make the group laugh. You guys can’t really talk about much, you can’t talk about your age, or your jobs, or your ex and how long you dated.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was not exceptional in any way. When you look back, even in the end, it was not out of this world. It was an extremely common relationship. Soonyoung was a great boyfriend but that wasn’t enough, and like every relationship ended badly, of course it did. How could it not? You know you broke up because of circumstances - back then Soonyoung was traveling every week working on a tour, his work hours were always unusual; a rehearsal starting at eight or a stage check at ten. It didn’t help that you, as well, had an insane routine, especially when it was election time. Sometimes you wish you covered fashion for a magazine and not national and international politics for one of the biggest TV channels of the country.
In the end, you and Soonyoung ended your relationship because you were too similar. Your commitment to work before anything else matched his work ethics.
You didn’t break up with Soonyoung because he was an asshole, you think that in this situation dealing with a horrible ex boyfriend would be easier; there would be no desire to try again, there would be no heart skipping a beat when Soonyoung says he still feel something for you.
When you look back at your relationship with Soonyoung you think about how it ended before you broke up, before you two come to terms that it wouldn’t work. It ended when you two were so caught up in your life you couldn’t make space for one another, and that, that alone breaks your heart. You didn’t break up because you fell out of love, you broke up because you were no longer a couple, you two no longer able to take care of each other, no longer having the energy to do so.
And that - to you sounds even worse.
“Should we share the rooms?” Minghao’s voice brings you back to reality.
“Rock, paper, scissors and the winner choose first?” Blossom questions.
“Sure.”
[EXCHANGE HOUSE][CAMERA 4, 8]
The second night in the house is somewhat the same as the first one.
Soonyoung doesn’t cook and neither do you, so you guys spend the night just talking with the other people around the table drinking. You sing a little bit, completely out of tune and your rhythm is so bad that it makes everyone laugh. and god, Soonyoung misses you so much he can feel like a physical pain - an ache in his bones, making him feel heavier than he should.
Soonyoung is laughing when he hears the doorbell rings, and everyone is startled by it.
See, the thing is - Soonyoung is not a religious man. He prayed once in a while but as he wasn’t a daily customer he thinks God was very much caught up in other people's problems, those who were more of an habitual client than Soonyoung who prays once in every six months when something goes terribly wrong in his life. But when Minghao lays all the little pics on the table after reading the cue card about the guys choosing the dates Soonyoung knows he is in for a win. If poker was that easy he would be rich.
He knows very well that the wall with a duck neon sign is your favorite coffee, the place that you two used to go to almost every day.
“How do we do this?” Soonyoung asks, all the guys look a little fascinated by the pictures while the girls look like they are about to have a heart attack.
“Do you already have your pick in mind?” Lee Chan questions him astonished.
“Of course,” Soonyoung says proudly, all eyes are on him, and before he knows he is already bending over the table and sticking his hand out, “Can I just pick or?”
“Which one?” Minghao asks, eyes fixed on Soonyoung’s hand. And the tension is so high and Soonyoung kind of loves it, it reminds him of those few minutes before entering on a stage, “What if someone else wants your picture?”
“The duck one,” Soonyoung remarked plainly because he doesn’t really see a reason to lie, “It is cute”
“Me too,” Junhui says and Soonyoung can feel the muscle of his neck almost snap, the aftermath of a whiplash. He blinks looking at the guy in the eyes and at that moment he wants to kill Junhui, he really wants to - kill his own fucking roomate in a tv show, “Let’s do rock paper scissors”
“I said first though” Soonyoung complained and it is childish but he doesn’t really care. If it is to get his way he will probably be even more childish.
“Yeah but you could pick that one if nobody wanted it,” Junhui nagged, almost matching Soonyoung in the childish level. And Soonyoung hates it, most people didn’t tried to go down on Soonyoung’s level. He is not used to someone going so low.
“Can you guys just do rock paper scissors already? It is stressing me out,” Buttercup says by your side, she is already running her nails.
“Ok, let’s go,” Soonyoung says calling Junhui onto the battlefield, he is already warming up his wrist, this is a war and he will bring up his heaviest gunnery.
And Soonyoung isn’t the number one believer, and he doubts God or Jesus or even an angel will listen to him, but yet, he prays for a second or two. And when people say three Soonyoung thinks he hears the angel’s voice singing hallelujah when he sees that Jun threw scissors against his rock.
Soonyoung wins, and he almost screams. Getting up and lifting his hand like it is a gift to beat Junhui on rock papers and scissors, he is almost vibrating - happiness filling his whole body. He looks at his own hand, the neon duck pic between his fingers, his most prized possession.
“Are you that happy?” You ask him, “that’s kinda suspicious Soonyoung.”
“Yeah,” he says, finally back in reality and sitting down after picking up the picture with the little neon duck in it, “the duck is cute there is nothing suspicious.”
“Wow,” Bubbles says laughing, “he totally chose his ex.”
“He did, didn't he?” Minghao pipes up, “thank god it will be in secret.”
[INTERVIEW ROOM][CAMERA 1]
“Why did you choose the picture with the duck?” Is the first thing the producers after the girl with the slate get off the frame.
Soonyoung feels more at ease now. He knows how it works - stare at the camera, answer the question with more than a yes or no, and let the people doing the heavy lifting in the editing room. Even though the producer is staring at him with a scowl he is somewhat used to it too, she is always like that. Even back in the interviews prior to the house, she always looked like a step away from a mental breakdown.
At some point Soonyoung just accepted that being angry and stressed may be part of her nature, some people are worriers, and he is sure that 80% of the time she is not really angry with him, so he just live his life diligently shooting her program without caring too much about it.
“Oh,” Soonyoung giggles at her bluntness, he really thinks it is funny enough to clap his hand and all that, “I knew it was my ex picture,” he says in a voice full of pride, “thank God I was super lucky, Junhui was like I want that too but-” he lifts his hand, “I really think I was blessed.”
“But why?” The producer tries again, she crosses her legs and writes something in her notebook, “We know you choose because she is your ex and you knew that it was her picture, but why”
“Ah, I think,” Soonyoung takes a pause to think about it - he really didn’t even think about why, it just felt right. “It is the first date right? So I guess it's just me trying to shoot my shot earlier on and making things clear.”
“Cut,” The producer says louder, “They are gonna be the first couple,” She says to her assistant, “there is no way we can go around without making it clear they are a couple, the editor rooms are not doing magic or miracles yet.”
#kwon soonyoung fic#kwon soonyoung fanfic#hoshi fic#hoshi fanfic#seventeen fanfic#t: seventeen#t: kwon soonyoung#t: writing#t: exchange series#t: exchange s01ep01
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The Jealous One pt 9
Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader
Words: 3,196
The third time's a charm.
Tags: fem!reader, silly, ambiguous timeline, Snotlout Jorgenson, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, Jealous!Hiccup, Post RoB/DoB, Pre-RTTE, unedited
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“Woah… Didn’t know you were cool.” Tuffnut scoffed and laughed, his shoulders bouncing as he laughed from his throat.
“Shut up,” You grumbled. You hadn’t wanted them to follow you down in the first place.
You were under a dark niche, an overhang on the opposite end of the spire to the one that faced the village, on the side where Mildew lived but this bit was much closer to the base.
The air underneath was moist and heavy.
You’d come down with Hiccup, once. You’d spent the time loitering and listening to him rant, his neutral greens and warm browns looking out of place against the dark rock, while you did your own thing, leaning against the side of a dripping rock wall.
You’d thought this place used to be something that belonged to both of you, but now it was more just a you thing… or maybe not.
You’d been feeling confused since you’d woken up in Hiccup’s hut in a spare set of your own sleepwear -when did he have the time to go get your sleep wear?
You hadn’t even known he’d had it in him to care for anyone like that, in such an intimate fashion. You remembered a point in your teenhood in which he would have insisted you hand yourself off to Gothi- Really, the whole event had woken up a large number of twisty curly things and mixed with the slightly sour feeling in your gut- you were almost sure you’d never recovered from your violent illness.
You could still feel it tickling at your periphery, the sickness- It really would suck if you’d gotten sick again.
It had been a cold night last night and so some of the mud below crunch beneath your feet, thawing frost coating some patches and melting snow wetting others so thoroughly that you’d been up to your ankles in the sludge.
Your boots had a thick wadding of it even now, standing in the sanctity of your own secret cave- you own cave secret no longer.
You had your hands on your elbows and your shoulders hunched, and although it was true that you were mad, you were also incredibly cold.
“Don’t be lame,” Snotlout scoffed.
“Those who live in twig houses should not be swinging axes,” You grumbled, “And so I’d rather you keep all your stones to yourself.”
“What? What does that even mean?” Snotlout puffed up his chest from where he stood in front of you- he was closest to the exit of your little overhang, the one you now wanted very much to leave, though you loathed the idea of stepping out into the mud, much more liquid than it had been earlier, when you had stepped down into your crevasse and it had been still too dark out to cause any real melting.
“I called you dumb, dipstick,” You grumbled, knowing he would never take the time to pull that sentence apart on his own.
He was stubborn and talking to him sometimes was like throwing knives at an impenetrable wall -the harder to work at it, the more likely you were going to hurt yourself- and you cursed him for it.
You also cursed his father for being such a dud- Snotlout would really be better off if he just thought, but wishful thinking could never be anything but wishful thinking and Snotlout was an old hunting dog- no new tricks for him.
“Downer,” Tuffnut scoffed as he hobbled outside for reasons unknown to you though not unwelcome.
“You know what would solve all your problems?” Snotlout asked. He responded right after, without waiting for you to ask, “Get pretty. Pretty ugly.”
You felt immediately more sour, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
You were even more sour as you felt something smack against the side of your leg.
You looked down just to be greeted by a thick wad of wet ground staining already dark grays darker- and at his squealing, you realized that the trajectory and force of Tuffnut’s throw meant that Snotlout had gotten splashed too.
“Yeesh,” You snapped, “You couldn’t have chosen a better time for a mud fight, could you?”
Mud against your skirt, you followed after Snotlout as he fled, shouting something squirrlish and manly about ‘stuff’ on his coat and yak dung.
He stopped right at the entrance of the cave and you ran straight into his back, rushing out after him, which had the unintended effect of shoving him roughly into the mud in front of him.
You nearly burst a lung with your laughter, half doubling over before whipping your head back as a large glob of mud slammed into your face with all the force inertia allowed.
You gawped, using both hands to pull the mud away from your eyes and wipe it off your face, flinging small spatters of it against the rock walls and floor.
“That one was meant for Snotlout, but ‘eh,” Ruffnut, the obvious culprit, shrugged, her hands muddied, “I guess you’re good too.”
“Oh, Hel! Chief’s kid! Run!” Snotlout shouted. In the way they did when you were all kids and they’d been mocking you and Hiccup in different ways.
At the word ‘Chief,’ the Twins startled suddenly like bucking sheep, tripping over their feet to sprint away and make for the forest as fast as they could, jumping down ledges and bolting.
You gaped and watched as they all ran off, staying standing where you were, then you began to laugh nearly hysterically as Tuffnut tripped over a long slip of mud before falling violently on his face.
He only just barely made it back into a scramble a moment longer.
Hiccup stood straight just before the clearly-made-worse field of mud, clearly caught off guard.
“Hi,” You said, with what must have been a dopey grin on your face and mud all over your being.
The others- you were slightly annoyed by how they’d run at the sight of the Chief’s son despite being his almost good friends.
From the chilly walk up the Chief’s hill and into his dwelling, which was dark and slightly cold, which must have meant that the Chief himself was still blessedly absent, off on some overseas trip or other.
“I should… Probably go.” You said, turning. You weren’t sure why you’d come up in the first place, the walk you took spent in silence- you’d need to hurry back to bathe so that your waning cold didn’t spike once more.
“You don’t have to.” Hiccup said then, “I was- I mean, I was- You can, then me? Or I can, then you- No- I had Toothless heat up the bathwater, earlier, and I-”
You tilted your head to the side, looking at him, greasy brown hair and all- Toothless’s fire always ran hot and so, ah, he must have gone for some herbs, then- Gothi planted a few at the base of the mountain, and for those with scarring and the right knowledge of plants, they made for an okay blams, which was the point. The old healer had probably gotten tired of the rabble crawling up to her hut over nothing and making their irritations worse.
“We can... Split the water,” You suggested weakly, shrugging crusting shoulders, tilting your head to a large wooden bucket of water off to your side- nearly large enough to hold a person.
You stayed huddled by the fire, your hands to a mug, your lips teasing the edge of it.
You wore a tunic that wasn’t yours, that hadn’t fit Hiccup by multiple sizes but still smelt like Hiccup anyways flopping over your hands- he’d probably used it to stuff his pillow or the like, because it smelt a lot like residual smoke and him.
You borrowed from him a pair of undershorts, too, and they remained the only thing keeping your bottom half from the grained wood floor- besides the soles of your feet, your knees being pushed up nearly to your chin.
The bath bucket, Hiccup had placed up in his room, probably intending to enjoy the luxury of being able to bathe up in the loft. Unfortunately, he’d conceded the right to bathe up there to you, settling for a bucket and washcloth.
The water, Hiccup was too lazy to bring it down as he’d brought it up.
You figured you would figure it out later as you dried, but by the sounds of it Hiccup had probably just ended up tilting the whole bath out his window, dumping the water that way- There was a stain on the side of his house from when he’d done it before and a gouge where he’d cut out some suspicious looking rot, probably a consequence of the undue moisture and fading waterproofing.
You wanted to puff at it, but you knew you were much too lazy to pail up any water for yourself.
You looked to the side but remained no less stationary as you heard him come down the stairs and settle, standing an appropriate distance away. He was nearly looking at you but his eyes were angled in a way which said ‘not quite.’
You couldn’t fathom why, however, unless he was being shy about your dress, though you couldn’t see why he would be concerned or avoidant- he’d put you in his things, after all.
By the light of the fireplace flickering warmly at the fronts of your legs, his hair was more than auburn in the light, looking lighter and fluffier than normal now that he’d washed out the grime, probably with a slight bit more fervor than usual, though you were slightly aghast by it and confused as to why.
You’d definitely felt softer about him since he’d cared for you, sick as you were, though you were surely unsure of where the two of you stood.
“Hello,” You said, breaking the silence which felt heady and warm.
“...Would now be a good time to apologize?” Hiccup started, his prosthetic and the floorboards squeaking as he shuffled.
You blinked your eyes open, staring at Hiccup for a moment. He looked almost earnest. “...I guess so.”
“I’m sorry.” Hiccup started, “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
You shrugged.
“Are you free? I mean, I could start… I could start bringing you on trips with the Riders?”
You startled slightly, the peaceful atmosphere between the two of your disrupted slightly- and suddenly you could feel again where spots of Hiccup’s tunic were damp, mostly in parts you’d done a poor job of drying, you could feel the few bits of grain that dug into your rump through its fabric and you could feel how the room was still a smidge too cold against your back, except it wasn’t anything you thought of fondly, more something that sent uncomfortably shivers running up your spine.
That was the exact opposite of what you wanted- it would be a reminder of all the ways you didn’t belong between them, bearing witness to exactly how you always would mess up their rhythm.
You didn’t like the idea at all. You struggled to come up with a way to explain it to him.
“I don’t… I would just be dragging you guys down. It’s not like I have a dragon, or anything, and you guys have… years,” You said self consciously. You tried to keep your voice from cracking at this part, though you couldn’t really tell if you minded, “-Of experience, together. I think I’ve only been there for a few, you know, before everything.”
Hiccup started and he opened his mouth to speak before closing it.
“That’s my fault.” Hiccup said guiltily, “I should’ve… I trained dragons for the others.”
You knew that especially then as you turned further to the side, the meat of your leg coming to rest against the Haddock’s wooden floor. You could feel all the grooves in it against fresh, just recently damp skin.
“And I… I left you.”
“Yeah,” You said, curling your knees up and refusing to look at him, “You did. But that was in dragon training and I wasn’t there. I didn’t make the cut, I guess.”
Admittedly, you were a little upset, but as it always went, you hadn’t done much to let it show until now.
They didn’t hide it or anything, but still. Even if the others didn’t hang out much outside of Dragon Riding, they still had tons of experience together.
You hated being together with everyone at once even in the Great Hall. being there had been a hard reminder, one you’d shake off soon enough.
“It’s different now.” Hiccup protested, taking a step forward.
You wondered if his stump hurt, still. You felt bad about distracting him- you hoped he hadn’t caused himself pain, foregoing the nice bath and hauling all the water out of his window anyways.
“Is it? I mean,” You demurred, slightly out of it, “I still don’t… I don’t have a dragon, so. I can’t fly with you or anything and I know that’s really important. Isn’t that why…?”
“What? No, no, even if it was, we can work on that.” Hiccup smiled awkwardly, “I can- Toothless and I can do all the heavy lifting- not that you’re heavy, I mean… If- if you’re not sure, then-”
“I don’t know.” You started, looking down, “Maybe. But… Why? Seriously, Why now? I don’t understand…”
And you refused to look, not deeply. You didn’t want to, knowing that it usually hurt. Instead you chose to believe that he was either deathly ill or mad- two likely culprits, the last one foremostly.
You settled your mug to the floor, standing and moving close up to him, one hand grasping his arm as you pressed yourself closer, your other hand coming up to feel at his forehead.
It was wonderful- to feel, to hold, to touch- but you didn’t focus on that, on the uneven feeling of his skin in one parts and the lumps under others and you didn’t focus nearly enough as you probably should have on the light, damp sheen over his forehead, or how nice the burning under his skin was against your palm, nearly oppressive despite the fact that you were the one to make the first move.
You couldn’t tell if it was burning or not to an unreasonable extent -not just by touch- and any redness that must have shown itself, clutched against peach skin, was obscured by the red light of fire and the darkness of shadow.
“You’re not sick now, are you?” You mumbled with some vague concern.
“Ah- N-no.” Hiccup said, his hovering, twitchy hand coming to rest along your waist.
With his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the fire, contrasting against brighter greens and baby colors, you thought that this moment that you’d found yourself in- It was like something out of a dream you’d had when you were younger.
You’d wandered into it unintentionally, and past your musings you’d nearly expected to wake up in your bed at fifteen years of age once again, sleep interrupted by the furious screaming of a bloodthirsty dragon. It would be nice if you did.
This moment, you knew, was not as kind or as dream-like as it seemed, for if it was, there would be more than a broken friendship and hesitant camaraderie between the two of you- a great deal more.
You kept your face blank as you slipped away slightly, ready for the warm, solid grip of Hiccup’s palm on your waist to become something colder and more absent. However, you paused- You hadn’t so much as tugged yourself away from his palm as you’d let it lay there, coming quickly to notice the sureness by which he held it against you, not at all giving as it should naturally be when someone was pulling away, nearly unwilling to let go.
“You’re not trying to win me over anymore,” You asked suddenly, “Not in the typical sense?”
“I-” Hiccup started before his eyes flickered away, his other hand sliding against your waist. “No.”
You did your best not to think of how he might have held Astrid- how you were sure you’d seen him touch Astrid in the same way, which sent twinges up and down your spine and touched your bruising ego, covered in irritating, old, slightly raw burn marks.
None of that mattered, though, because this wasn’t what that was- of course it wasn’t because he’d never treated you that way, and wasn’t that nearly a problem? It wasn’t that you couldn’t look beyond yourself to know, but to treat it in that way- to find it, to know it to be fake or even real or to entertain the fantasy would also hurt- it might sting and rage at your softer parts in a way that made you want to cower, and so you pushed all yearnings and musings and other sad things farther away.
“What are you doing?” You leaned in slightly closer, eyes searching, feeling more serious than not, even as your bare knee brushed lightly against his clothed one.
Hiccup sighed breathily. You could almost call what he did a wheeze.
“...I’m sorry.” Hiccup said, and in an action that surprised you and had your neck straightening and your eyes opening wider by a slight margin, he placed his face securely into your shoulder.
You could nearly feel his lips against your neck, in the place where collar bone met shoulder, and you resisted your own urge to shudder and sigh, all your shaky breaths held deeply inwards.
You mumbled softly, leaning back into him and resting your head against his neck, “I forgive you. I really- really forgive you. And… And I’m sorry too.”
Sorry for dumping water on his head, for being so crass, even if he deserved it- and sorry for everything you’d lost, too, along the way and before the journey.
You tightened your arms slightly, your eyelids shutting tighter as you took in the shape of him, how he felt, ever so warm against you, his hands moving from your waist to your back, his arms pushing and wrapping against your sides, constraining and nice made nicer as the heat of the hearth in the floor beat and flickered steadily on.
Hiccup smelt fresh, like river-washed clothes and a bit like mildew all mixed in with something that was surely Hiccup, something heavy growing finer, much different to the scent you were sure had belongs to him, noted down when you were nothing but young teens tussling and chittering around in forests and along village pathways.
You hummed into his neck, your eyelashes grazing gently against the skin and baby hairs there and sighed, your voice thick and catching, raspy and muffled by the parts of his skin pressing into your cheek and the seam of fabric warm and almost scratchy against one side of your nose.
You knew on some level that this might never happen again. So, you desired to enjoy it before you couldn’t- before, once again, you became bitter, before you felt rupturing-ly petty and frustrated and sad.
#httyd#how to train your dragon#x reader#fanfiction#hiccup haddock#hiccup x reader#httyd imagine#fem reader#female reader#toothless
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The Interesting Inazumans
Prompt: Inspired by this post
A/N: I love writing shenanigans. Also, happy birthday to me AND I’m quite excited to play Honkai Star Rail; I meant to have this up earlier, but I lost motivation 75% of the way through and that was quite annoying to deal with. Furthermore, this is more or less set-up for what I have planned next. Nothing too exciting I’m afraid, but think of it this way: if I kept writing exciting action scenes, then it would slowly lose its charm. Thus, it’s better to space things apart to keep things interesting. (By the time of writing this, my birthday will have passed.)
Words: 1386
Part two to, “An Idealized Image”.
Tags: @iruiji , @kamiyadidi
Kamisato Ayaka stood on the sidelines watching Yoimiya and Itto with confusion and interest; Kuki Shinobu merely looked down in shame, a hand covering her eyes. Heizou was standing on the side as well, looking at the beetle battle with interest and a hint of amusement. Gorou and Kirara were barking and hissing at each other, respectively; Kokomi tried to calm him down to little effect.
The scene was pure chaos. Truly, this was an embarrassment to your pride as the Divine Overseer; nothing could make you feel worse.
Two weeks since your arrival
It hasn’t even been a month, yet you are beginning to get accustomed to your new life as “Divine Overseer”. You were resting on your bed, recovering from your sword training with Ei.
Let’s recap: After waking up in Chinju Forest and observing your appearance, you walked all the way to Inazuma City; when your stomach growled, you grabbed the first edible thing you saw which just so happened to look like raspberry, but yellow. Nobody paid attention to you when you arrived; the ones that did notice usually stared for a little and then went about their day. That suited you just fine since you couldn’t come up with a backstory to save your life.
You wandered around the city, eventually making your way to the Statue of the Omnipresent God. You felt drawn towards it, like something was calling to you something deep inside of you.
Then, Kujou Sara appeared behind you before you could get a chance to examine it further. With how much you suspiciously resembled a divine being you were brought into Tenshukaku. After answering some rather fascinating questions thank goodness they spoke something similar to English because you were dead if they spoke Japanese about a being called the Primordial One and passing a blood test you still remember the awe you felt when you bled silver instead of dark red you automatically were given a room in Tenshukaku.
The news spread like wildfire until even those from Watatsumi came to profess their faith and wishes. At first you felt unworthy of such a title, and who could blame you? You were some no-name nobody who appeared out of nowhere; not that you weren’t ungrateful for this cover, but still, if they ever found out the truth they’d probably have your head. Best to keep it to yourself for now.
According to your individual research, this “divine overseer” was charged with making preperations for the return of some being called the Primordial One; they sounded quite important from the title alone. You weren’t terribly worried, not when you had an entire nation to assist you in this endeavor.
You adjusted to this sudden schedule rather quickly, in no small part thanks to Kujou Kamaji being assigned to help ease you into this…fascinating position. You were given a routine to follow: Calligraphy in the morning, bow training with Sara in the afternoon, and learning how to wield a sword with Ei at night. You didn’t know why you had to wield a weapon, let alone know how to fight with one, but any knowledge is useful and who wouldn’t want to know how to wield two weapons?
Your eyes began to feel heavy, and before long you drifted off to sleep.
Okay, the domain’s ready. Dropping it in 3…2…1…now.
Hey, update. Apparently Honkai Star Rail’s releasing later today. We’re not gonna finish in time.
…Okay. That’s bad, but we do have a protocol for that.
Understood. I’ll execute it now.
/////
The next afternoon, you found yourself sipping tea with Ei. Normally, you would be practicing shooting a bow with Sara, but the entirety of the Shogunate seems to have been gaslit by the sudden appearance of a new domain. It just appeared near Tatarasuna in Kannazuka Island. With it being so close to Kujou Encampment, Sara was the first to be informed and quickly led an investigation of the area.
All of this, Ei told you as she poured another cup for you, was because all of Narukami had dreamt the same thing last night: A dream involving you.
“Oh…I see. Did they say if they remembered any details?” You press gently, but Ei shook her head.
“Nothing clear. However, Kujou Kamaji has stated that the only consistent thing each person remembers is of a person whom they recall has hair as white as snow and yellow pupils…”
“I see…” You finish your tea rather quickly, earning a mean look from Ei. You set your cup down and cross your arms. “Then…I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“To take control of the situation, gather members for an exploration team, and then plan for the exploration itself,” you casually stated. You stood up from the mat and walked towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Ei asked. You heard a mixture of concern and confusion in her voice, despite her attempt at hiding it. You turned your head to address her.
“Huh? I thought my plan would have informed you? I’m going to go find some willing volunteers to explore the domain.”
/////
It took an additional amount of time than you would’ve liked because Ei argued it, “wasn’t the Overseer’s duty to attend to such trivial matters when she could get a servant to do it”. Some back-and-forth banter later and a compromise was reached: gather some of Inazuma’s Vision holders plus some adventurers from the Guild to create an exploration team with.
A couple days later, the meeting was held inside Tenshukaku in the main room where the Shogun usually resided; Ei went to the Grand Narukami Shrine to speak with Miko, but she reassured you she wouldn’t take long.
Something you kept telling yourself even as Arataki “Numero Uno” Itto gave a come-at-me gesture to Naganohara Yoimiya; the two engaged in an Onikabuto battle then and there to decide who would accompany you, which begged the question why did they have Onikabuto with them?
Meanwhile, Kamisato Ayaka stood on the sidelines watching in confusion and interest; Kuki Shinobu merely looked down in shame, a hand covering her eyes. Heizou was standing some way off, looking at the beetle battle with interest and a hint of amusement. Gorou and Kirara were barking and hissing at each other, respectively; Kokomi tried to calm him down to little effect.
The scene was pure chaos. Truly, this was an embarrassment to your pride as the Divine Overseer; nothing could make you feel more ashamed.
And then the doors opened. Almost comically, everybody paused to see who had arrived. They were basked in the light so only their silhouettes showed; then they casually strode forth, revealing a blonde female with a flower in her hair and a white haired…fairy(?).
“Uhh, Paimon’s confused. What’s going on here?” asked the white-haired fairy. She looked at each and every Vision holder. “Why are you all acting so out of character?”
“If you ask me, this bonehead over here is acting like himself.” Shinobu crossed her arms and glared at the oni.
“Oh! Lu-Lumine! What an unexpected surprise!” Kamisato Ayaka put a hand on her chest. “It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other…”
Lumine? You mean the same Lumine that managed to defeat a dragon, help stop a god that could command the ocean, and abolish the Vision Hunt Decree? You think to yourself with a growing sense of horror. Oh great, they’re definitely gonna judge me harshly. Somebody kill me now.
“Hello Ayaka. It’s nice to see you too,” she said plainly yet with a friendly tone. Then she put a hand to her chin. “But Paimon’s right. What happened here?”
“Well…you see, we all arrived here when the Divine Overseer put out a request to help with this Domain…” Yoimiya began.
By the time Yoimiya finished the explanation, everyone had cleaned up their act and was now kneeling on the tatami mats; they faced you with a neutral expression as if they hadn’t engaged in shenanigans earlier. The firework girl took a spot next to Kamisato Ayaka. Lumine stood in the back, and Paimon floated beside her.
At last, you can get to building a team. You pray that nothing bad would happen.
Excellent. I think we can let it go here. Come on. It’s starting soon.
#genshin imagines#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin fic#yeah you're not quite the creator here#mixing things up is healthy for the sagau-verse#at least that's what I believe so...#fyi i'm may or may not play Honkai Star Rail#after this upload I mean everything's planned already#everyone here in the sagau-branch has stuff outside of writing#my point is I'm gonna take some me time#but expect some minor memes/sketches/imagines soon
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Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ Ｙａｎｄｅｒｅ ＧＯＷ Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ
Synopsis - Just some general Headcanons for one of my favorite game series and characters!!
Tags and Warnings - Harm Towards the Reader, that's all I got.
Authors Note - THIS IS SO CRINGE (please don't unfollow me I'm going through a phase (I'm working on BTS reqs rn I swear))
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
Kratos
Literally is known for killing, and will gladly do it again
Your like family to him and he's seen too many of those he considered family betray him and die
Pre Norse Kratos would be at his absolute worst peak. Any little thing would result in someone else dying.
Looked at you wrong? Cut in Half.
Someone told you something? Eyes Gouged out.
And the worst someone did to you the more serious Kratos would punish them, or really kill them.
His rage is met with something that calms him, makes him feel grounded, aka you.
But my god is he gentle with you, no matter what. He touches you almost like you'd break if he used anymore force.
Even with the little words he uses when talking to you, he truly loves and cares for you. All he wants is for that love to be recognized and given back to him.
But one thing for sure, Kratos kidnaps you. Just to keep you in his sights and a place he knows and can see you whenever
Post Norse Kratos is much more pleasant to be around. He's more stern, more calm, much more approachable, even if needing a much more deeper urge too.
Plus if your good with Atreus, that only makes things better. He sees that maternal aspect in you instantly
However no matter what he keeps is past closer off to you because he doesn't want you to think any different of him.
(HE LOVES BIG WOMEN GUYS I SAID IT. HE GOT TOO. (all his dead wives are skinny (let me be delusional)))
You yelled out running into the middle of of snow. It was freezing cold but you couldn't stop anytime soon. Or else you'd be trapped back in that house, never to see the light of day.
You heard him.
Heavy, labored breaths behind you.
You ducked down behind a rock, trying to slow your breathing. This was hopeless, but you had to Atleast try. Maybe Freya would help you or something, she does a have a thing against your captor.
“Do you wish to die out here.”
A hand went to your mouth, refusing to give in to the fear that overtook you.
“You cannot survive the cold. Come back. Do you not want to be home? With us?”
His footsteps grew louder, he knew what he was. He was intimidating, scary, deep down a killer.
And did he know how to use those aspects to his advantage.
A hand grabbed at your ankle and you were pulled up by your foot. You made direct eye contact with the wall of muscle that you'd grown to fear. His breathing was labored but he took a deep breath in, and sling you over onto his shoulder.
“We are to talk about this later. Understand?”
All you could do was sob silently and nod your head.
Freya
Man when I tell you shes reminded of what love feels like, she is reminded hard.
She's already broken, having almost everything taken away from her by Odin. But you mend those tears in her soul, binding them shut with your mere existence.
Freya would've instantly been drawn to you, seeing as all you wish to do is care for the people around you, being free from Odin's eye, as your inconsequential to him
She would grow to envy your freedom, as you traveled the realms as freely as you wished. Your absence would plague her, growing to be that without you she feels empty.
And it gets worse after Bauldur dies.
Once he's gone you flee quickly seeing what she's turned into. Fueled by rage and regret, she would have these outbursts of just heavy emotion. And so you left, avoiding Midgard at all costs.
It wouldn't be long until she finds you, being free from her curse. Freya would tackle you to the ground and capture you, vowing go nrver let you out of her sights again.
And she doesn't, she wants you to either be locked up and with her. And majoirty of the time it's with her. She wants a new spouse, someone to actually call her love and mean it.
“There you are!”
You were tackled to the ground, bound by vines that were never apart of the vegetation of the realm you called home.
The sight of a angered Freya came into view as your eyes opened. Her breathing was labored as she moved her hands, the vines still keeping you stuck. Her hands came to your cheek and you winced at her cold touch. A paled man stood over in the distance watching silently.
“Your just as beautiful as the day you left…” She mumbled to herself bringing your attention back to her. Freya's hands pressed against your cheeks as she leaned in, kissing your forehead passionately. The action almost mimicked a mother, trying to clam her new born baby.
But this wasn't the situation for that.
“Freya please we can tal-”
“So you know how much you hurt me?! You left me alone. Alone with my thoughts, I spiraled without you.” She yelled at you. This is one of the reasons you left in the first place, her mood can switch so easily. “But that's in the past, and all I care for is the future. One where you and me spend eternity together.”
Atreus (But in a platonic crushing way cause ya know he a minor)
He's crazy, literally whipped for you. He's considers you to be his best friend, and does a bunch of harmless flirting.
Of course he thinks your pretty, one of the prettiest people he's ever encountered and has he seen some things. But he knows that staying friends keeps him happier, and less stressed
Being a mortal really didn't help your case, if anything it made Atreus more protective of you and your safety.
Any situation he deemed to dangerous and unsafe for you, he'd make you stay behind (he takes after his father a lot.)
You often are the subject to which he vents too, it's rather unintentional, everything that's happened and is currently happening to him is just so stressful. And god knows he couldn't vent to his father or Sindri.
He has this thing for showing you the world through his eyes. Like he'll tell you what animals are saying and how they're just like him and you. The beauty of nature is something he just has to show you
One thing that's worrisome is how impulsive he is. He's so quick to stand his guard and protect you when it comes to you and your safety. Key example is Heimdall, in which he never liked. Atreus hates how the blonde talks to you, in fact he would immediately pull out the wolf when Heimdall even mentions you.
Off note, Atreus will bring you to Asgard with him. No matter what you say he'll want you to be there with him. His excuse is that you'd make a great duo, but in reality he doesn't want to be alone.
“What is wrong with you!? Your trying or at least considering to go to Asgard?!” You yelled once inside of Freya's abandoned house.
“Its the next best lead I have. But I need you to go with me, I can't do it alone.” Atreus said as if it was the most simple thing ever. You furrowed your brows at the half god.
“Let me break it down for you. I'm a mortal. A mortal in a realm built for gods? Yeah your fucking crazy. Oh let me add this. I'm a child, your a child, WE'RE CHILDREN!"
“I'd say young adults, shit maybe teenagers. But the thing is we have to, we have to save my dad.” Atreus tried to reason with you.
“Since when is it a WE thing? Atreus this is your prophecy not mine. Hell not even Atreus, this is Loki's prophecy."
“Wait don't go I need you!”
“Goodbye Loki.”
“No!” He yelled before shooting a arrow at your arm, cut forming at your forearm. You hissed out and grabbed at the wound, the cold hitting your blood. “Your not going anywhere hurt like that. Step out there and the cold will infect the wound. If you come with me, Odin can heal you.”
“I'm-”
“Make a choice.”
“Fine. I'll go….”
#dark writing#tw dark content#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere blog#gow ragnorak#GOW#god of war#yandere kratos#yandere freya#yandere atreus#god of war ragnorak#yandere gow#yandere god of war#yandere headcanons
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Taking care of you on your period - Obey Me
Characters: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Diavolo
A/N: I’ve seen a lot of these types of posts, but they don’t feel specific enough for me, so I did it myself 💀 Might do other parts with the other characters eventually or if it gets requested. Reposting cause this isn’t showing up in tags :’) Requests are open!
Warnings: mentions of throwing up, blood, nudity (not sexual), and mention of fainting
Word count: 1.7k
part 2
part 3
Lucifer:
-At the House of Lamentation, every day is a different person’s turn to cook. Conveniently enough, on the day it’s your turn, you’re hardly able to get out of your bed without the whole room spinning
-He definitely checks on whoever is meant to be cooking dinner every day a while before the usual time everyone sits to eat, since his brothers aren’t exactly the most punctual and responsible people around
-So he goes to check on you thinking you’re just being lazy and stuff, but he’s also a bit worried because he hasn’t seen you for a good portion of the day but didn’t realize it because of how busy he was
-After a while of lying down and feeling your body burning, you decide to try and pace around your room for a bit, hoping that a bit of movement would help ease the pain at least a little bit
-Except you’re still suffering so you’re kind of curled in on yourself, hunched over because it hurts to move but staying still feels like hell and it feels like nothing is working
-And you’re also trying not to puke the tiny amount of food you were able to just barely eat that morning because of the nausea
-I just know this man gets back pain, he definitely has some type of heating pad already that he keeps hidden away in his desk or something maybe like a couple rice packs or whatever the devildom version of those would be
-He’ll get you two of them, one for your back, one for your stomach and he also gives you a heavy pillow to put over your thighs in case they start hurting too (the weight helps quite a bit with the burning, and you feel less antsy)
-Once you feel better and are able to talk without the pain bothering you, he’s definitely gonna ask you more about it and if it’s that bad every month, so that he can be more prepared, especially if it gets worse the next time you get your period
-He’ll look into it some more and get you whatever supplements or meds you need (if you need any) to help with the pain and make sure you take them as often as you should
-Lucifer is such a workaholic but he’ll take a break since it’s for you 🥰
-Tbh he will probably give you an annoying lecture at some point ... as if you don’t know what you’re doing 😭 you just gotta tell him you obviously do know what you’re doing since it’s you feeling the pain and you’re doing what you can to take care of it but you’re not a doctor or able to just magically completely heal yourself and he’ll kinda shut up and stop being patronizing about it
-Will let you lay your head on his lap and he'll either play with your hair or rub your back gently until you either start feeling better, want to do something or want to get something to eat
Asmo:
-Asmo definitely has his fair share of experience with this kind of thing, I’m sure a few of the brothers do, but even though he loves to party and stuff, I doubt he’d just ditch everyone he’s with right after, he’d be attentive and especially if they got to know each other for a bit longer than just one night or a day, he’d learn to take care of them better
-He’ll notice you’re not feeling well and then ask you about it, but he doesn’t really need details, since he’s already familiar with humans and whatnot
-His bath is absolutely ginormous, so he’d definitely draw you a very hot bath (not to the point of it being super painful but enough to drown out the cramps with the amount of heat) + bubble bath if you’d prefer and Epsom salts to relieve the burning feeling on your back + other oils so the smells help you relax but nothing too strong
-If you’re comfortable with it he’ll keep you company while you take your bath and talk if you’re not feeling up to talking but don’t wanna be alone
-Or if you wanna play music to fill the silence and help you relax he’ll let you pick of course
-I feel like his room is very cool and not too stuffy which is perfect because the cramps make your body heat up a whole lot so if you’d like to stay, he’d let you nap on his bed and also bring you a heating pad just to help any more pain, just in case
-From the amount of cramps you were having + their intensity, he would know that you shouldn’t eat anything right away especially if you were nauseous as well, so he’d wait until about an hour and a half or so after you fall asleep to order something warm for you + he’d ask Solomon for recommendations because he’d know what foods are good for humans and stuff (he offers to cook something himself and Asmo has to hold himself back from telling him that the goal isn’t to hospitalize you 😭)
-He wouldn’t get anything spicy of course, since it could make your cramps even worse, and he doesn’t wanna risk it after they finally calm down/go away
-If it’s caused by vitamin deficiencies, he’ll order vitamin supplements for you and set alarms on his phone and remind you (over text or in person) when it’s time to take it, just in case you forget
-This man would absolutely not care the slightest bit if you happen to get some blood on his sheets, he may be super particular about lots of things but he knows that bedsheets being slightly stained is not a big deal and it hardly takes any time to wash them anyway, he’s so sweet too he’d probably try to make you feel better by saying he’s been meaning to change them anyway :’)
-He’ll gladly cuddle with you if you want, but he’s more than okay with giving you space if you want to just rest alone, as long as you have everything you need and have your phone near you so you can text or call him if you need anything else
-Will not hesitate to tell his brothers to shut up if they’re being loud when you’re resting because you need to replenish your energy and your hearing becomes more sensitive after all the pain (especially if you threw up before or were dizzy and your ears were ringing)
Diavolo:
-Let’s say you’re staying at the castle for a little while when you get your period all of a sudden
-It’s the first time you get it since coming to the devildom (since being around a bunch of demons would obviously cause quite a bit of stress, it just stopped for a while), so you’re a bit thrown off since it’s the last thing on your mind and you haven’t been keeping track of your cycle
-He’s not completely clueless when it comes to the differences between species and all that but he’s still not super great with how differently human bodies work in comparison to demons so he might just think you’re going to bleed to death for a little bit when you tell him :/ so you have to reassure him that you’re not gonna die and that unfortunately it is a very regular thing for humans
-Tbh you probably won’t be able to give him the whole rundown in detail of how it works because of how much pain you’re in so you just ask him to get you painkillers, and you go to take a nap and hope the pain fades once you fall asleep
-Instead, after napping for a bit the painkillers seem to just wear off as if you never took any to begin with and the pain comes back full force, so you ask him to draw you a hot bath
-The bath doesn’t seem to be helping much even after over half an hour of soaking in it so you decide to get out
-But then you get extremely dizzy all of a sudden, so you put on a towel robe and lay down on his bed to try and wait out the ringing in your ears + the dizziness and your heart beating insanely fast
-Conveniently enough you don’t have your phone on you and he’s who knows where probably working so you can’t even try to call him to help you (to get you a heating pad, painkillers, anything really, even just to have someone else’s presence because it legitimately feels like you’re about to die and not even in peace)
-You notice you got blood on the robe while lying down, so you go to the bathroom to get a pair of underwear and a pad (which you manage to do) but you get super nauseous all of a sudden so you just. sit on the floor for a bit, wearing basically nothing and hoping you’re not about to pass out or straight up die alone, partially naked on the cold bathroom floor
-After not too long (but what feels like a whole damn hour to you) he finally goes to his room and so you call him and he’s kinda panicky, but he brings you a new robe since you bled over the other one and helps you get up and walk over to his bed which is thankfully not too far from the bathroom since it’s in the room
-And then he helps you lie down under the covers, and then gives you a water bottle + he helps you drink from it since you’re dizzy and can’t really lift your head properly
-Gets into bed after you and just chills beside you, kinda rubbing your back and just making sure you’re not in too much pain (basically ignoring all the work he has to do)
-Makes sure you have food and water almost immediately after you wake up so the dizziness will go away faster
-Diavolo would feel really bad about not being able to help more, and I feel like he’d be the most likely to try to look into other solutions (aka stuff not meant for humans) if you find that human medicine and supplements aren’t doing anything even after months, he doesn’t want to see you in pain ever, let alone every single month, so he’d definitely want to fix the problem as soon as possible (and you do too obviously, although not exactly in the same way)
#lucifer x reader#obey me x reader#obey me! x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#asmo x reader#asmodeus x reader headcanons#asmo x reader headcanons#diavolo x reader#diavolo x reader headcanons#obey me#om#omswd#omswd x reader#lucifer x reader headcanons#obey me headcanons#om headcanons#obey me!#obey me! headcanons
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