#like are they oblivious or do they know and they just don’t care
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plug connie springer x black stripper reader
warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding
a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)
can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)
one down, like five more to goooo
The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.
It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.
You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.
You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.
Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.
It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.
Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.
‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’
‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’
The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.
Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.
Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.
You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.
When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.
You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.
Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!
Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.
You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar?
Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.
He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.
A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.
Wait. Is that-
That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.
You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,
“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”
A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,
“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”
Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,
“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”
Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.
He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.
‘What kind of position are you looking for?’
‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’
He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.
“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”
Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...
Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...
“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”
And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.
The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.
You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.
And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.
Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.
Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?
You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?
He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.
“Hell no.”
Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.
Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.
His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.
Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.
You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.
At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.
Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.
And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.
And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.
It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.
One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?
You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.
“Coming!”
You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.
It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.
Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.
“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.
He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,
“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.
He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.
He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.
He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.
Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”
He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.
This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.
He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.
You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.
You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.
You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”
It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.
“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.
Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.
Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.
“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.
Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.
It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.
Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,
“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.
He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.
What do you taste like?
Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”
Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.
“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.
“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”
Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.
“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”
Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.
“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”
Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.
He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”
You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.
Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”
You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,
“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”
He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.
He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.
He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,
“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”
Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”
Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.
As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.
His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.
Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.
“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”
Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.
@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾
#lumiwrites#plug connie#connie springer x black reader smut#18+ content#aot smau#aot smut#aot x black reader#aot x reader#aot x black y/n#connie springer#connie x black reader#connie x black y/n#connie x you#mikasa ackerman#mikasa aot#connie aot#connie attack on titan#eren yeager x black reader#eren yeager#mikasa x reader#mikasa x black reader#aot fanfiction#x black reader smut
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imagine if the shen family was actually a part of the mafia. and shen yuan just never knew.
like his Family is rich and they are all super close. he’s even in contact with some of his distant relatives pretty often, which is kinda cool for him, he’s sure that this isn’t the case for most families so he considers himself lucky to know the extent of his family tree. sure, some of them seem to have lost a marble or two but what family doesn’t have a couple oddballs in their midst, you know?
and its not just sy’s comical obliviousness that contributes to this. his family is well aware that sy is not suited for this life style- especially his siblings. they grew up watching him get himself into all sorts of weird situations and putting himself at a disadvantage simply because he’s too nice. he can try and deny it all he wants (just like how he denies he’s gay- c’mon sy everyone can tell you are not straight) but his sense of justice would only burden him if he were to work for the Family. not to mention his sense of self preservation is absolute shit and they don’t want to have to babysit him his whole life- and he probably doesn’t want that either!
so they send him off to college, help him find an apartment, and basically do everything they can to help him start off on his own, away from the Family. his siblings had to do a whole lot of convincing to let this happen btw- this kind of thing usually isn’t allowed, but sy doesn’t know anything that could be used against the Family, so they make an exception in his case. better for them to not have a deadweight sticking around either is what they say but they all dote on him anyways and refuse to admit they care about him. sy definitely picked up this line of reasoning from them btw.
shen yuan is a little upset and confused that his Family seems eager to send him off (it’s not like they can’t afford for him to live with them after all- both of his older brothers still live in the Family’s massive house and even his aunts and uncles are living there??). he manages to recover quickly though. at least now he can read his web novels in piece without prompting any dick jokes (his cousins had a field day when they found his account with all of his pidw comments…). now he just needs to figure out how to live by himself.
it’s not that sy is incapable of taking care of himself- it’s just that he’s so used to having other people with him that he never understood how much they were doing for him until they were no longer around. but that’s fine, living on your own is just another learning curve and sy is willing to rise up to the challenge. which he did, by the way! he found a job and pays his taxes and even though that isn’t much he still gives himself a mental pat on the back for it. he is still in contact with his siblings, he never misses an update for pidw which he totally doesn’t get excited for and his life is going great.
……until he accidentally eats some expired food and dies.
#and the Family thinks that someone assassinated him#but his siblings know that he rlly was just too careless TT#not sure if someone has done this already but here#shen yuan mafia au#except its not??? technically????#imagine sqq and sqh are forced back into the modern world and airplane is like wtf. wdym you were this rich this whole time.#and it clicks for him immediately that sy’s family is involved in organized crime#sketchy recognizes sketchy. airplane was never a fan of commiting felonies but living another life as sqh gave him that sixth sense#or smth like that idfk lol#something something sy/sqq has always needed a chaperone cause hes so fucking reckless#first it was his siblings and now its lbh lqg mf yqy and that doctor guy i forgot his acronyms rip#svsss#svsss au#scum villian self saving system#scumbag self saving system#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain#scumbag system#ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#airplane shooting towards the sky#mxtx svsss#svsss ideas#svsss shitpost#also i keep seeing different things about how sy died..?#because when i first read svsss i thought he died in a fit of rage#but then ppl said that he choked on his food while finishing pidw#and then i heard other things about how he ate expired food???? like a bao bun or a dumpling or ramen idk#so i decided to go with expired food cause lbh would NEVER let him die like that lol
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Do you ever think about how Tolkien’s vision of the greatest evil in the universe was something he referred to as “The Machine” which was his way of talking about accelerated industrialism and mass surveillance and he wrote multiple books where the main villains were a dragon who sits on a huge pile of treasure that he never intends to use but incinerates anyone who comes near it, a man in a giant tower who’s wrecking the environment with his factories, and an evil being who uses what’s essentially a listening device to control the citizens of middle earth. And now Amazon is making a Tolkien show. Do you ever think about that.
#lord of the rings#lotr#the hobbit#tolkien#the rings of power#amazon#fuck amazon#capitalism#like are they oblivious or do they know and they just don’t care#knowing amazon I’m willing to bet it’s the latter
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—————————————— Nynseph ——————————————
daughter of death, born with too much life. clawed her way out of her own grave, from the underworld, from her father’s frigid embrace. sister killer, life saver. the great change of the seasons, from pale winter to shuddering, hot spring. the flower and the serpent underneath. death’s lost love; the seed to his scythe. so desperate to defy fate and their red strings. life-sworn; promised to protect nature and in doing so, defying her own. wayward, aching, furious soul, begging for forgiveness. begging for life, for love, for a world untorn. begging to bury her father’s sickle, so that she may bloom.
#this is my dark urge nynseph……..#she’s a nature sworn paladin (ik ik i love paladins SORRY)#and took her vow as a way to defy her fate#i shall not go into too much details of her past bc dark urge and tbh i don’t know it all yet BUT#she is a little odd…….kinda weird girl….but like.#v eager for friendships and connection even if she doesn’t Know How To Do It#not naive per se but like….so eager to experience more human/simple life#has a mischievous streak#she is romancing astarion……#or well. he is so pathetically in love with her and sees so much of himself in her struggle to be free#and is just. anguished. over his feelings for her#and she is oblivious JFKDJSKSJAL#she thinks he’s sweet! (even when he’s snarling and awful) and needs some care LMAOOO#nynseph: i found this flower for you…it is the color of your eyes :)#astarion: are you done wasting time flower-picking?#nynseph: do you not want it? i know karlach likes them…#astarion (gritting his teeth so hard he’s gonna give himself a migraine): no. give it to me.#cielo rambles!#nynseph#nynseph the reborn#bg3
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*
#well I can no longer tease Keith for being/looking obliviously in love with his bff#I think I’ve mentioned before that a big part of the reason I’m going to Taiwan this summer#is b/c my best friend from LSE lives there#we met the first week of university and it all just went from there#(rare for both of us b/c we’re introverted)#anyway#after I moved to the US for grad school#and she moved back to Taiwan to work for a bit and figure out what she wanted to do her MA in#we started sending each other care packages#(before this we used to bring each other stuff back from home during breaks )#((we also meet on zoom every week for a few hours to talk + watch movies))#they’re pretty good sized boxes with (mostly) food and also books and weird t-shirts/clothes and all of that kind of stuff#we’re quite good at this point at getting stuff the other will like#(I always trawl Trader Joe’s for interesting things I think she’ll enjoy. she got me 5 different flavors of salted plum from an indie#company in Taipei because she knows I love ume)#we always put notes for each other in the boxes too#I send hers to her parents house because it’s easier to have packages shipped to there than in her small flat share in Taipei#and her mom (with her permission) sometimes opens them and takes out something for herself to try#what I didn’t know until today#is that her mom also takes out the notes to put on her desk so they don’t get lost#and she’s been hinting to my friend more and more over the past 2 years that it’s okay if she’s ‘not into boys’ and her parents will support#her no matter who she dates (which is very sweet)#now I’m coming in less than a week#and when my friend was visiting home this weekend she took her aside and told her#that she didn’t have to introduce me as her friend and she could openly say I’m her partner of 2+ years#which (again) would be very sweet#if I were actually her girlfriend#I’m not#and I’m having dinner with her parents at some point in the next few weeks#my life is a bad sitcom
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The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩
Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.
“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.
There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.
“I wanted to finish this report for work.”
“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”
Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”
“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”
“Ruined?”
“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”
Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”
His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.
“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.
“It is.”
“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.
“Yes.”
Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
“Sleep.”
“But—”
“Sleep.”
Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.
“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.
“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”
“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Very.”
Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.
“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”
“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.
“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”
It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.
“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.
“Huh?”
“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.
“And Serotonin.”
Another kiss, lower.
“Oxytocin.”
He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.
“Reduced cortisol.”
Flustered, you grip his arms.
“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.
His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,
“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”
You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”
Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”
And by those things, you mean his dramatics.
“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”
Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”
He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”
Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.
“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”
“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”
Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.
Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”
“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”
Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace smut#adelssmut#notsfw
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jealous finnick?
jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!
finnick odair x fem!reader
Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.
“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.
“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”
“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”
Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”
Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 
Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.
“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”
Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.
He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.
You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”
“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”
You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”
Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.
“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”
Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”
You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”
Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.
Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”
Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
#★ mal writes!#finnick odair#finnick odair blurb#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick odair imagines#finnick odair fic#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair drabbles#finnick odair headcanons#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair drabble#finnick odair fanfiction#finnick odair fluff#finnick x reader#thg finnick#thg x reader#thg#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick x you#thg x you#thg series#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#hunger games#hunger games x reader#hunger games x you#hunger games fanfiction
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Older
||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
pt2
||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read
You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.
At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.
And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.
Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.
Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.
It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.
Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.
And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.
Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.
“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.
He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.
You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.
“Got you some lunch,” you grin.
He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.
He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.
“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”
You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.
And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.
He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.
“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.
“No, princessa.”
You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.
“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.
“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.
You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.
He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.
“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.
A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.
“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.
“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.
Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”
You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.
You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.
And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.
Because you're painfully naive.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”
Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.
The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.
“No.”
“A man of few words,” you grin.
“A girl of far too many.”
You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.
“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.
Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.
“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.
You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”
He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.
“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.
“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”
And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.
It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.
Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.
“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”
And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.
Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.
“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.
All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.
You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.
He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.
You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.
All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.
Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.
“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.
Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.
“Princessa?”
Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.
You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.
His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.
He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.
The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.
You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.
Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.
Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.
Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.
And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.
So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.
He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.
For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.
A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.
Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.
“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.
He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.
You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.
It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.
His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.
“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.
He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.
You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”
The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.
“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.
“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.
“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”
Oh.
You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.
You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”
You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.
“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.
The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.
Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?
“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.
“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.
He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.
That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.
“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.
“Good Girl,” he croons.
“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”
He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.
The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.
You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.
“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.
“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.
“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.
“No one.”
His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.
“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”
Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”
You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.
“Use your words.”
Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.
Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”
“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.
You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.
“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.
“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.
His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.
His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.
The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.
You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.
You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.
“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.
Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.
“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.
“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.
The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.
Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.
“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.
You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.
Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.
“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.
You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.
“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.
You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”
He frowns.
Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.
“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.
Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.
Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.
He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.
“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.
“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.
Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.
You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.
Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.
“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.
“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”
And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#fluff#miguel fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut
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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story.
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter.
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet.
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next.
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?”
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#st drabbles#stevie drabble
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But what about me | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: Established relationship - You're jealous of the new girl but are mature about it, James is oblivious, and he also forgets your birthday and anniversary.
Notes: So here it is, a new version. I'm not going to continue the taglist, because it is kind of a hassle to take care of. Lily is our friend. OC Rosalie sucks. James is stupid. Spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, probably a happy ending, you know the drill.
Masterlist
“What’s on your mind?”
_________________________
You stared at James from a distance.
You shot up, your eyes widened in an alarmed manner before your posture relaxed when you saw it was Annabelle. She was a Hufflepuff ghost, a student who had tragically died during a Triwizard tournament, a few decades ago.
You shook your head in reassurance. “Nothing’s on my mind-“
“-So, the usual then?” Sirius’ voice popped up behind you and you wasted no time in elbowing him in the ribs, causing him to let out an “oomph”. You quickly waved at Annabelle who floated off.
“Watch it Padfoot,” you sternly told him, and you tried your best to give him a reprimanding look. By the laughing sound of his reaction, you failed in appearing intimidating.
“So,” Sirius began. “Big day tomorrow ey?” He wiggled his eyes suggestively. You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, my birthday. Stop making it sound weird,” you huffed, and you shook your head.
“Totally worth it, Annika just walked past us with a beet red face,” Sirius defended with a mischievous grin.
“You should stop your inappropriate comments, I mean you are literally my cousin,” you stated loudly, and Sirius earned a disgusted look from another student passing by.
Sirius’ mouth hung open and then he scrambled to defend himself. “So, we’re not related at all, she was kidding!” His voice and pitch raised by the end of the sentence as he called out to the student who’d given him a not-so-subtle side eye.
You gave him a smug look. “Fine,” Sirius relented. “Truce?” You two shook hands.
“You’re not trying to steal my girl, are you Pads?” Two arms found their way around your waist, followed by a kiss to your cheek.
Sirius let go of your hand to hold them up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, Prongs, just chatting because she seemed lonely,” he shrugged. You shot him a glare.
“Lonely?” James’ attention immediately zoned in on you.
“He’s just talking out of his ass, Jamie,” you waved it off.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because you were definitely not longingly looking at Prongs here, talking to that gir-“ This time, you kicked his shins.
“Nah, I’m just pranking you, mate,” Sirius nonchalantly changed course and patted James on the shoulder while he passed him. James ignored him and focused on you.
He spun you around by one arm, held above your head like you were doing a ballroom dance. His hands quickly settled on your sides when you faced him, and he leaned over to pepper your face full of pecks. You grinned up at him and he fondly looked back before pulling you in again for a deeper kiss.
“Really?” A portrait next to you spoke up snorted. “Right in front of my salad?” He gestured to the painted salad on the dinner table in front of him.
James pointedly ignored him and instead tried to pull you a little bit closer. Not that that was possible.
“Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” The man in the painting complained, and you would imagine the grimace on his face if you weren’t too preoccupied with James, who was leaving small pecks against your lips.
“Don’t like what you see, look away,” James murmured against you.
“Disrespectful cretin these days. I would look away, but you are right in my sight,” The portrait huffed dramatically. You softly pushed James away to offer the poor man a sheepish look but found that he’d already escaped to a neighboring painting.
“So tomorrow,” James started, and you couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of a date with James. That giddy feeling sank very quickly when James finished his sentence.
“I’ll be training our newest Chaser for the day. That’s the girl I was talking to before,” he explained. “Her name’s Rosalie James, isn’t that funny? Like her last name is James, it confused me a lot during today’s practice,” James continued, not noticing that your mind had wandered of the brunette girl.
“She even joked that if we’d get married, I could change my name to James James,” he laughed. You didn’t particularly see the humor in that.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I know I said that we would study together in the library tomorrow, but I think we should move that to Sunday.”
You frowned, “can we not just move it to the evening then?” you asked, wondering if James was really planning on spending the entirety of your birthday with someone else.
“Well, it’s from 9 o’clock until 7 o’clock in the evening, and we have a Quidditch party thing afterwards, but it’s more of a teambuilding thing. I can ask them if you can join though?” James offered.
You blinked at him in confusion before offering him a smile in return. “What, no- I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you denied. You assumed that he’d find some time to squeeze in a birthday celebration.
James shrugged. “Suit it yourself, love.”
You didn’t actually think James would forget your birthday. After all, James was literally the perfect boyfriend. He was proud to show you off to people, always ready to lend an ear when you needed to, and most of all showering you with love, any chance he gets.
But we’re all still humans after all, today was very busy so it probably just slipped his mind. That’s completely okay, you told yourself. And so, you tried to push away your thoughts, wanting to enjoy the cake that you and the girls had snuck from the kitchen as a late-night snack.
“Red velvet is the best, I swear,” Lily laughed with a sigh as she let herself fall flat on her back in satisfaction. Marlene agreed wordlessly, preoccupied with stuffing more cake in her mouth.
“Happy birthday again,” Alice smiled kindly at you, and you beamed at her. “Thank you, guys, for today, you shouldn’t have bought me the expensive painting equipment,” you said as you motioned towards the brand-new canvasses, brushes, primer, and oil paint.
“Nonsense,” Marlene replied in mock offense. “But you will paint me one day, right?” She batted her eyelashes at you. You pretended to think about it. “I mean, for 15 galleons?” you joked and then had to rush to take your words back when Marlene agreed without hesitance.
“I was only joking,” you laughed and swatted her lightly.
“Eh, leave the joking to your boyfriend and the other marauders,” Lily teased you. “Speaking of them,” she started, and you looked down, knowing the follow up question. “What did they get you for your birthday?
“Well,” you recalled your day so far. “Peter, Remus and Sirius gifted me an expandable suitcase, so I can put all my collectables in there.”
“Damn,” Alice whispered. You sheepishly scratched your head. “Yeah, it took me by surprise too. Last I checked, it cost way too much. I sure hope they acquired it in a legal manner,” you joked.
“I mean, both Sirius and James are well off, so maybe they could afford it and actually bought it,” Alice joked along.
You shrugged. “Oh, James didn’t pitch in for the suitcase. Remus said that he’d told them he was getting something more personal for me,” you said.
“Ugh, what a sap,” Lily commented lightheartedly, and you agreed with a chuckle. “So, what did he get you then?” Lily asked exasperatedly, already expecting something ridiculously grand.
There was a beat of silence.
“Uh, I’m not sure, we didn’t get around to celebrating my birthday together,” you settled on answering.
“What?” Marlene, Lily, and Alice asked in chorus.
“He was busy,” you defended James.
“The entire day?” Marlene squinted her eyes, absolutely seeing through your bullshit excuse. You shrugged in response but nodded your head. “The entire day?” She repeated in disbelief. “Like he couldn’t pop in in the morning or during breakfast?” You shrugged again.
“I guess he forgot,” you mumbled, starting to feel down again. Alice quickly caught on to that and decided to change the subject, trying to cheer you up. “Anyway, should we picnic tomorrow by the lake?”
You exhaled in relief. “I would love that.”
Sirius and James entered their dorms and greeted the other two marauders. “And? Did she like the suitcase?” Sirius immediately asked while he made himself at home on the foot end of Remus’ bed.
“Definitely, like she couldn’t believe it. She even did the happy wiggly dance,” Peter and Remus laughed at the memory. Sirius held his hand up to high five them and grinned in victory. “I told you guys, she needed someplace to put all that stuff she collects.”
James had been utterly confused since he stepped into the room and was not at all following the conversation. It was definitely about you, he figured that much from the wiggly happy dance. But what on earth were they buying you stuff for?
“You guys gave Y/N a suitcase?” He asked cluelessly.
“Yeah, why?” Remus inquired, eyebrows raised. “Is that not up to standard to the great James Potter?” He sarcastically asked, already expecting James to start gloating about whatever he got as a present for you.
“Well, if you guys have that much money in abundance to spend, save some for great pranks too,” James complained jokingly.
Sirius stared at James in confusion. “Huh?”
Peter tilted his head while examining James’ facial expression of confusion and then hesitantly asked. “James, did you forget about Y/N’s birthday?”
Time stopped for James, and he could hear his heart beat loudly, blood rushing to his ears as realization dawned on him, entirely to slowly.
“Merlin!” he loudly cursed, wide-eyed.
At his confession, Remus and Sirius’ jaws slacked. “You forgot!?” They shouted in unison.
Peter covered his ears at their yelling.
“Y/N!”
You turned your head, trying to find the source and halted in your step when your eyes landed on James who was frantically making his way through the hordes of students, crowding the corridor. He had been trying to find you since breakfast.
“Yes?”
James stopped in front of you, out of breath, a little flushed in the face and an apologetic expression adorned his face. You already knew what he was going to say and held up your hand to stop him in advance.
“I don’t need your apology,” you sighed out. James words died in his throat, and it took a moment for him to break out of it. “Love, I’m a right twit, I know.” He unintentionally shot you a defeated look with puppy eyes that you couldn’t help but melt for.
“How was your day yesterday?” was all you ended up asking as you continued making your way towards the library. You motioned with your head for him to follow you.
“I missed you,” James sincerely answered. He still pouted, seemingly upset, but all directed at himself of course. “I can’t believe I forgot,” he frowned. “I’ll work to be the greatest boyfriend again, I promise.” His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn’t suppress your amusement anymore, a smile lifting the corners of your lips.
“Well, you’re not off the hook yet, Potter.”
“Not the last name,” James whined. You shot him an unimpressed look that had him accept defeat.
“So, no kisses for you anymore,” you huffed for extra measure, in retaliation to his complaint.
“Wait what? You can’t do that, that’s so mean,” James immediately protested.
“For a week,” you added. “Forgetting about me yesterday was mean to me too.”
James’ hand made its way to intertwine with yours. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But this is still okay, right?”
You squeezed his hand. “It’s twelve o’clock right now. Do you want to have lunch first or study a little bit in the library?”
James gave you a bright smile. “Whatever you want.”
“I want you to choose,” you retorted.
“Lunch, please.”
James spent the following week almost draped over you. His entire body leaned into you, your hands always together, and every time he came in for a kiss, he reminded himself to respect your wishes, which left him burying his face in your neck instead.
It was Sunday and you hummed peacefully to yourself while you were sketching in the boys’ dorms, on James’ bed. You sat in the middle of his crossed legs, his arms were wrapped around your middle. His chin was rested on your shoulder which left him with the perfect view on your drawing in progress.
“I love you,” he quietly mumbled.
“I know, Jamie. I love you too,” you nudged him. James’ arms slipped away, and he moved away from you, you frowned at the loss of contact and warmth, leaning into the pillows behind you instead. “What are you-?”
James moved in front of you and nestled himself between your own crossed legs, back to your stomach, exchanging the position you had previously been in. He slouched a bit until his head leaned against your chest.
“My, you’re putty today, love,” you teased him softly. You closed your sketchbook and started untangling his curly hair.
“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday,” James whispered. You melted.
You chuckled and shrugged. “Sometimes things slip our mind. It just made me feel a little bummed out, that’s all.”
James hummed. “Well, I can promise you that I won’t forget about our anniversary though,” he said, voice filled with determination. You laughed. “That’s still a long time from now Jamie,” you mused.
“I’m already counting down the days so that there’s absolutely no way that I’ll forget it.”
“Hey James?”
James looked up at you.
“It’s twelve o’clock.”
James blinked twice and then a wolfish grin appeared as he practically jumped up and turned to face you, tackling you to bring you in for a kiss.
You groaned at the impact of your head against the wall behind you and James grinned sheepishly in apology before grabbing your hips and pulling you further down the bed to make space so he could finally press his lips to yours, all while completely melting into you and sighing in relief at the feeling.
And for two weeks, everything seemed to be perfectly fine. Until Rosalie joined the picture again, that is.
Dorcas sat next to you in class and elbowed you softly. “What’s up with James and that girl?” she whispered. You looked up from your notes and glanced at James who was nodding enthusiastically at a drawing that Rosalie was showing James. It was a portrait of him, and you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach at how well she drew him.
Features that were so on point, up to the little details like the three tiny birthmarks that seem to disappear amidst his freckles and that one freckle on his upper lip that you often pressed an extra peck to. You knew that for such a detailed, accurate and hyper realistic drawing, Rosalie had probably spent a lot of time studying him up close.
You averted your attention back to Dorcas and forced a smile. “She’s their new Chaser,” was all you replied.
Dorcas sent another skeptical look in James and Rosalie’s direction but didn’t comment on it any further.
“Guess what, love?!” James burst into the common room where you and Remus were calmly reading. James skipped over to the couch you were sitting on and pressed a kiss to your temple.
“What?” you entertained him.
“I just made a deal with the kitchen elves and they’re going to cook us a candle lit dinner for our anniversary,” James triumphantly grinned from ear to ear as if he had just won the Quidditch cup.
Your eyes widened and you jumped up in excitement and disbelief. “How did you manage to do that?” You curiously pondered.
James puffed his chest. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he secretively replied, and you huffed and swatted him with a laugh. “We’re all magicians here, James,” you pointed out with a pout.
James leaned down to press a kiss to your pouted lips. “Just enjoy dinner with me. It’s in three weeks.” He was not about to tell you that he made a deal with the elves to go and clean the kitchen every day after supper for three weeks.
“Thank you, James,” you said, voice muffled because you had your face buried in his neck, arms around him in a tight hug.
You were incredibly excited for your anniversary, having a surprise for him as well, as you managed to get him tickets to the Quidditch world cup.
You waited for James in the changing rooms, Gryffindor had just lost an important match to Slytherin, and you knew that James would be feeling down. The Gryffindor team walked in, and you got up from the bench you were seated on. When you found James, he immediately came in for a hug.
“You did great out there, love. I’m proud of you,” you whispered.
“But it wasn’t enough,” James frowned. “They’re just always better than us, it doesn’t even matter how much we practice, because in the end, we can’t beat them.”
You stroked his hair in a consoling manner.
“And what’s the point if we can’t bloody beat Slytherin,” James spat out in frustration. You threw Sirius a look over James’ shoulder.
“Don’t say that, Jamie. You’ve won the last two games, and you don’t have to win against them,” you tried. Apparently, that was not what James wanted to hear and you would later beat yourself up for seeming to discard his feelings.
James pulled away with a frown. “But it’s not enough!” You flinched at his loud tone. “I just want-, It’s,” he let out an aggravated sound. “You don’t understand, okay. The feeling of constantly losing to the same opponent, its-“ James was struggling to find the words and you tried to apologize, alarmed, and feeling guilty.
Rosalie showed up behind James and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll get them next time, James. She just doesn’t get it because she’s not on the team.”
You felt hurt by her dismissive statement and wanted to retort when James agreed with her. “Exactly, Y/N, you don’t even play Quidditch, you don’t know what this feels like.”
Your heart sank in embarrassment and hurt, and your mouth formed an inaudible ‘oh’.
“Come on, Prongs. It’s not her fault we lost, don’t take it out on her,” Sirius moved to stand next to James and swatted him lightly. James sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched his nose.
“’m sorry, love. That was totally uncalled for,” he admitted, and he reached his arm for you to pull you back in for a hug. You subtly evaded his arm and swiftly moved yourself to the door.
“No, no. I actually need to go meet up with Peter, so uh. You guys have fun. And yeah,” you awkwardly did a mini wave with your hand towards the team and fled.
Sirius leaned in towards James. “Good job, mate.”
“Sod off.” You didn’t leave his mind at all for the rest of the night.
You were about to scream bloody murder when you were shaken awake in the middle of the night, but a hand covered your mouth and when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could vaguely make out your boyfriend.
“James?” you incredulously whispered. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”
James motioned to his invisibility cloak. “Sleep with me?” He asked and gave you a pleading look. You folded and so you tripled to the boy’s dorms under the cloak and then nestled yourself in his arms. A leg draped over his while you two fell into a peaceful slumber.
James was once again looking everywhere for you. This time with a slight sense of dread instead of the usual excitement.
When he finally found you and saw that you were laughing along with Sirius, he hesitated. He was halfway through changing his mind on addressing the issue with you when you called out to him.
“Morning!” you said, and you slid a sandwich in his direction. “You missed breakfast today, everything okay?" You asked.
James glanced at Sirius, and he excused himself and then left.
“I know we were going to go to Hogsmeade for our anniversary, but Rosalie managed to get tickets to a Quidditch game of our favourite team, and we even get to meet them afterwards. Like I can ask them for tips on playing, it’s just such an opportunity…” He trailed off when he noticed your fallen expression, which you quickly tried to cover up.
“Hey, that sounds like an amazing opportunity,” you assured him because it was true.
“We’re still on for that candle lit dinner, though?” You tried to joke, but it came off more as an insecure question.
James immediately enveloped you in a big hug. “Of course we are, 10 o’clock in the evening and I promise I’ll make it up to you afterwards.”
You laughed quietly. “You better.”
Your eyes crinkled in laughter as the kitchen elves tried their best to cheer you up and keep you occupied while James was hopefully simply running late. But by the time it was one o’clock in the morning, you decided to call it a night and thanked the elves for teaching you two new dishes and chess.
On your way to the dorms, you heard hushed whispers around the corner. When you turned it, however, you saw it was empty, but you knew better. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, contemplating if you wanted to do this now or tomorrow.
“James,” you called out.
There was a beat of silence and then the invisibility cloak slid off to reveal James and Rosalie, sneaking back inside the castle.
“Love? What are you doing up at this hour-“ he stopped halfway through his sentence with a curse.
“Wait, Y/N, this is my fault, not James’,” Rosalie piped up, but you were done with her.
“Go.”
Rosalie shot James one last glance and when he didn’t look back at her, instead still frozen, attention focused on you, she scurried away.
“I lost track of time. We went to have drinks with the players and time flashed by so quickly and then I completely forgot. And then Rosalie got sick, so -“
“Stop talking about her for a moment.” James looked at you, confused.
“Every single time, it is always you and Rosalie. It’s always her.” You didn’t bother hiding your hurt feelings anymore.
“But what about me,” you whispered defeatedly.
James shook his head. “No, it’s not her. I swear it’s not. It’s bad timing.” he firmly stated. “This isn’t even her fault, it was me and my enthusiasm to go to the game, I-“
“Why do you keep defending her?” You cut him off, allowing tears to well up in your eyes. James bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry,’ he eventually admitted.
“Yeah,” you breathed out exhaustedly. “You always are, aren’t you? Just like you always promise to make it up to me.”
“I will,” he weakly defended. “We can go back to the kitchen right now, eat food, celebrate our anniversary,” his eyes desperately searched yours for forgiveness, but in the darkness of the castle, he couldn’t find any.
“I spent three hours in the kitchen already, I’ve eaten the great food that the elves prepared for me, and our anniversary has already passed,” you coldly stated.
James’ eyes averted to his own feet, ashamed.
You tightly shut your eyes for a moment. And basked in the silence. When you opened your eyes again, you took in James’ posture. He seemed so very small all of a sudden.
Then you walked straight past him, while he was still frozen in place. When you passed him, you halted next to him and turned your head towards him. “I really hope she’s worth it, James.”
This seemed to snap him out of it, and he turned around in a flash. “Wait!” he called out in panic and immediately lowered his voice. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?” His eyes were pleading, and he looked distraught.
You scoffed softly to yourself. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m tired, so I’m going to bed, or else I actually will,” you replied shortly and retreated to your dorm.
Sirius whistled when James entered the room and unknowingly started to rub salt right in James’ well-deserved wound. “One o’clock in the morning, damn Prongs. You two must’ve had fun in the kitchen. How was the food? Did you like the present? I helped her with that,” he boasted.
James shook his head, “I messed it up again, Padfoot.”
Sirius eyes squinted ever so slightly at James. “No way,” he ended up asking in disbelief.
James didn’t answer right away, and Sirius got up out of bed and approached James. Then he shoved him. “Tell me you showed up for your anniversary, Prongs.”
James who had been looking at the ground finally met Sirius eye to eye, tears pooling in his own eyes. “We just lost track of the time, and then Ro-“
“If you finish that sentence and it’s about Rosalie, I will hurt you, James Potter.”
James helplessly looked at Sirius. “But you guys have it all wrong. It’s not her fault-“
Sirius grabbed James by the collar and shook him for good measure. “Prongs, mate. Wake the bloody hell up, would you.” His eyes bore straight through James’.
“Rosalie fancies you. It’s as clear as day. She demands your attention at all times. Asks for Quidditch practice, specifically with you, for an entire day. She diminishes our Y/N’s value in front of everyone, is pretentious and makes it seem as if you two are more compatible. She tries so hard to have so many common things with you like her last name, and she literally has a sketchbook full of portraits of you, which is rather creepy. Besides, she fully knew you were supposed to be back by ten o’clock for your date. I get it man, it’s subtle, but you’re smarter than that.”
Sirius released James and sighed. “And worst of all, Prongs, is that you let it happen. And every time you do, she wins a little more until Y/N will stop playing this stupid game for you.”
James let Sirius’ words sink in and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right Sirius was.
“I don’t do it on purpose, Pads. Believe me. I know everything looks terrible, but I didn’t realize it.” James took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and pulled a hand through his locks.
“I forgot her birthday, but it was just a busy day, and I don’t really have a choice as captain but to train the new players. A-and I immediately apologized to Y/N when I realized what a twat I was in the locker room. And I didn’t miss my anniversary for a date with another girl or anything, there was a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet people I’ve looked up to, and I know it looks bad together because Rosalie was involved in all those instances, but I never meant to hurt Y/N. You know I’m in love with her.”
James started pacing through the room. It was a miracle that the others hadn’t woken up yet.
“Okay, I believe you,” Sirius decided after consideration. “But maybe try properly explaining and apologizing to Y/N. And then confront Rosalie and tell her to sod off.”
James nodded. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll do that.” Sirius looked a little skeptically at James and then patted his shoulder before climbing back in bed, while James did the same.
He had almost fallen back asleep when James asked, “Do you think she’d forgive me?”
Sirius was quiet. He’d seen the hurt look on your face multiple times and had instead tried to keep your mind off of James whenever he saw you stare at James and Rosalie.
“I think she might break up with me, Sirius,” James whispered in a small voice. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was filled with guilt, distress and you.
“Go sleep James, we’ll figure it out in the morning.”
You took a deep breath before pushing through the grand doors of the Great Hall. You spotted the empty seat amongst the marauders and let your eyes slide across the Gryffindor table to look for James.
You found him talking with Rosalie, and you almost wanted to turn around and leave, when you spotted her sour face when he finally walked back to his seat. James wore a relieved expression and was greeted by the marauders with pats on the back in congratulations.
Sirius spotted you and waved you over, scooting over himself so you could squeeze in.
“Good morning,” you gratefully smiled at the boys and sat down. James absentmindedly loaded your favourite food on your plate out of habit and then hesitated. He hadn’t really dared look you in the eyes yet, still ashamed after lying awake all night, thinking of all the things he’d done.
When your stretched out hand appeared in his sight, he looked up and saw a kind expression on your face. He handed you the plate and relaxed a little.
“Sirius tells me you want to explain some things to me, so unless you have a date with Rosalie over there,” you gestured to the girl who was not looking happy. “We could talk after breakfast?”
James nodded eagerly, eyes wide. “Yes, please.” He stared at you, and almost frowned, wondering why you didn’t seem as angry as you did last night, or rather this early morning.
You noticed his stare and knew what he was thinking. “I told you; I was tired, upset and couldn’t deal with it then. But I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I have thought about everything and decided that I’m not going to rashly throw away two years of unconditional love and friendship between us, for things that I feel like you want to explain to me. It’s not so black and white in decisions when it comes to love and my love isn’t that fragile.”
“Thank you,” James breathed out, already feeling like crying.
“Don’t thank me, thank Pads, he is vouching for you,” you hummed. “But your explanation better be worth it. And that’ll be at least two weeks without kisses.”
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#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter angst#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#marauders era#marauder x reader
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𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Mating season has it’s struggles and it affects Y/N the most.
warning: no smut yet(sorryyy), talks of sex and heat, mostly fluff and Alastor being a sweetie
It has a part 2 :)
Everyone, except one person from the Hotel, was in the parlor, having coffee and just eating breakfast.
Y/N had locked herself in her room, only coming out for a few minutes to gather herself food for the whole day and to let everyone know that she was okay.
“No, but really… What the fuck is up with her?” Asked Angel.
“It’s that time of the year for deers, it’s called mating season, I looked it up.” Charlie said, before, she was worried about her so she found a book about it and learnt about it.
“Oohhh, so our doe is horny? It’s a mood, honestly.” Angel instantly got into his flirty voice and he turned to Husk “Don’t whiskers gets heats? Mmmh… We could satisfy it together!” He leaned more into him, but he only got shoved off.
“Fuck off!”
For the first time that morning, Alastor decided to speak. “It’s more than sexual feelings.” All heads turned to him in question, so he continued. “Female deers are overwhelmed by their maternal instincts, their whole bodies are aching to take care of their own little fawns.”
Vaggie spoke. “So, she is pregnant?”
“AWWW—-“ Charlie’s eyes turned big and teary.
Alastor chuckled in response. “Heavens no! This is where the sexual instincts slip in—“
“Slip in?” Angel raised his brow suggestively, but got a flick to the head, by Husk again.
“Ha.ha.ha. No. Whether she mates or not, her body still feels the need to mother.”
“That’s why she is curled up all day in that big pile of blankets?” Vaggie asked and both Charlie and Alastor nodded in unison.
“She also put on some weight too? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy. Her thighs are so plushy and her ass and ti—-“
“Yes, she gains weight in case she needs to feed a fawn and keep it warm during the cold season.”
There was a bit of comfortable silence before… guess who spoke up again.
“Hold on a second.” Angel perked his head up. “Aren’t you supposed to be in heat too? You’re a deer, too.”
All heads turned to Alastor, who didn’t show how uncomfortable he felt. He only chuckled with a wide smile, but before he could have brushed it off, the missing doe entered the parlor.
“Good morning!” All kinds of greetings were heard. She sat down on the couch.
“How are you today?” Husk asked her.
She smiled. “I’m okay, thank you. I am just going out, I have to stock up on my sweets, I’ve ran out. Anyway… I’m just goi—“ She started to make her way to the door, but Alastor appeared in front of her.
“Like hell you are! It’s dangerous out there for you.” He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. “You wouldn’t want any bucks catching your scent and doing… heaven knows what.”
“B-but I need my sweets.” She huffed.
Alastor just stroked her ears. “Don’t you worry, doe, I’ll go out and get them for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask that.” Their faces were inches away, completely oblivious that all eyes were on them and all lips were smirking their way.
“Nonsense! You just go back to your nest, lock the door and I will be there in a bit, with all you could need.” When he finished his sentence, he was already out the door.
She turned around, she needed to get back, every nerve in her body was on the edge.
When both deers were gone, Angel spoke again.
“What the fuck did I just witness?!”
“Her body acknowledged that a buck gave her commands, so she must comply.” Charlie said, with a smug undertone in her voice.
Everyone scaterred after that, only Husk and Angel were at the bar, sipping on their usual strong liquor.
“So… Creepy face is in heat too.”
Husk stopped the cleaning of the glasses to laugh.
“Exactly.”
“So, a fawn running around the hotel is not too far way in time, is it?” His fingers glided around the rim of the glass.
“If it’s up to Alastor, it will be even sooner.”
#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#alastor fluff#alastor#alastor altruist
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a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.
“Have you called Maeve?”
She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?
He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with.
Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them.
“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.
“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”
“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”
She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks.
Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me.
She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response.
Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.
She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it.
Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office.
She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief.
She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share.
He does not want to call Maeve.
The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.
“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”
Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.
He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess.
He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.
“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”
“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”
“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“
“Then why-“
“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”
He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it.
She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now.
All the cards are in her hands.
Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this.
“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”
It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him.
“How could I not be? It’s you.”
It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up.
A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount.
“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“
He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable.
When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life.
“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”
He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back.
It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits.
She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back.
On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything.
He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
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Pansy’s interrogation
Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle
Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.
Warning: Mattheo says a foul thing.
I feel like I’m spamming tumblr with unasked for fic’s, like I’m anxious that I’m bothering everyone, but at the same time: here’s another unasked for fic. Also, English is not my first language and this is not proofread, so feedback is very welcome.
For more interrogations: click here
For more Theodore: click here
For more Mattheo: click here
Theodore Nott
“Rumor has it you are tutoring first years?” Pansy sits down next to Theodore with a cup of tea in her hand, carefully stirring. Theo growls, he knew this was coming, he knew Hogwarts was notoriously fast when it came down to gossip, but it hadn’t even been a day. Pansy raises her eyebrows, her way of saying ‘spill it, I want to know’.
“So?” Theo simply shrugs trying to downplay it and thereby hoping to avoid spilling his hidden agenda.
“Not really your thing, is it Notty-boy?” Pansy playfully ruffles through Theo’s hair. He immediately gets her hand out of his hair and tries to comb it back to its regular mess with his fingers. “It earns Slytherin points.” Theo finally explains when his hair is remodeled.
“Earning Slytherin points?” The girl huffed, clearly not falling for his excuse. “If you really cared about our house points you would start attending class, stop doing drugs and getting caught, and you would keep Riddle out of fights instead of getting him into more fights.”
Theodore frowned and forced his lips into a line. “Keep Riddle out of fights, who do you think I am, the pope?!” Pansy shakes her head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
Theo looks away and feels saved when he sees Draco approaching them with his usual dramatic walk. He should be enough distraction for Pansy. “Theo, I heard you’re tutoring first years?” Right. How could I forget, he’s Hogwarts' second biggest gossip.
Enzo joins the group now that the entire common room knows Theo is a tutor thanks to Draco. “Really?” Enzo quips and Theodore simply nods. “(Y/n) must be so pleased that you’re helping out with her tutoring project. She had trouble finding capable and willing volunteers.”
Draco huffs at Enzo’s oblivious reaction. “Theo is so whipped for (y/n).” Pansy mouths an OMG at Theo who immediately realizes he will never hear the end of this.
Suddenly Blaise and Mattheo arrive. “Mate, you tutoring first years?” Mattheo asks, ignoring everyone else and with a very confused expression. Theo sighs and lets himself sink in the sofa, wishing it would swallow him. “If you’re tutoring? Why don’t you help me?” Blaise adds a little offended.
“Apparently, Theo is only doing this to earn points… with (y/n).” Pansy explains with an unmistakable grin on her face. Theodore rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment. I need a smoke. And new friends.
Mattheo Riddle
Pansy flops down next to Mattheo who up until then was enjoying his quiet time lounging on his favorite couch in the Slytherin common room. Mattheo doesn’t recognise Pansy’s presence and simply continues reading his book.
Pansy’s smirk grows wide, she’as already enjoying herself and she hasn’t even started interrogating her victim yet. She turns herself to face Mattheo’s side and dominantly places her arm on the back of the couch behind him. Now he’s closed in the game begins.
“I hear it’s been a while since you’ve had a shag?” Annoyance fills Mattheo’s eyes as he stops reading just to stare in front of him.
“I’m assuming everything *pansy gestures to everything between his legs* is still working fine. So… No luck on the market ?” Mattheo’s eyes roll to the corner of his eyes to stare at Pansy.
“Pans, don’t.” Mattheo returns his gaze back to his book.
“You must get frustrated? Getting no release.” A heavy breath leaves Mattheo’s chest. He really didn’t like it when Pansy played her games.
“Oh, but he has plenty of Willing Witches magazines. He gets by.” Blaise jumps to take a seat on the couch opposite of Mattheo and Pansy, spreading his arms to take up the whole couch. Mattheo’s jaw clenches clearly not amused by his friend's humor. When Pansy giggles, Mattheo can’t help but feel exposed and blush a little.
“Why do you care?” Mattheo finally breaks, giving Pansy his full attention.
“I want to know why you’ve been playing boring at every single party for the last few months. Girls talk, you know.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Girls talk? Wow, that’s news.” His sarcasm had a poisonous undertone.
“If the guy wants to be on his best behavior, let him, Pans.” Blaise cuts in, attempting to get Pansy off Mattheo’s case.
“Why? Why are you suddenly done with manwhoring about?” As every part of Mattheo’s body tensed, Pansy threw a quick glance over to Blaise to affirm her suspicion: she was onto something.
Acting quick and avoiding a witty or snappy comeback from Mattheo, Pansy moved a little closer to Mattheo. She let her head fall to the side and put up an innocent face. “Are you trying to impress someone?” Mattheo’s dark eyes shot at hers. “Ah, that also explains why you’ve been attending classes more often.” She added enjoying how the puzzle pieces were falling together. “And, it’s been a while since you’ve had detention for fighting. Oh please, don’t tell me, are you trying to convince (y/n) that you’re a good boy?!”
As soon as Mattheo heard your name his face went from cold and annoyed to shocked and horrified. It lasted only for a second, his dead eyes were even more furious than before. “Pansy. If it ain’t for sucking dick then I advise you keep your mouth shut. Now, go bother someone else.”
Pansy was used to harsh language, but Mattheo’s denigrating tone made her tense. “I wonder what (y/n) will think about your foul mouth.” Pansy got up, pleased now that she knew what made Mattheo tick. Mattheo on the hand was frustrated that he led himself get played by Pansy’s games like this.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#pansy parkinson#papercorgiworldwritings
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owned | Mob!Lando
Summary: You took the job because the pay was extremely good. Your boss’ reputation didn’t make that much of a difference to you. After all, his kids were who you would be spending most of your time with, not the single father… right?
Themes: nanny!reader, infidelity, sort of dark!mob!lando, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, breeding kink (brief)
“I’d like to see you before you leave.”
It was the same sentence every night. Every single night. And each night, those words tormented you. You felt too much at the same time. Guilt. Shame. Hunger. Lust. More guilt. Anticipation.
The first night, on your first day many months ago, when he first said those words to you when he came home from work, you thought they were harmless. Maybe a caring father wanting to know how his kids behaved with their nanny on her first day. You’d thought that he’d ask you about your day with his kids.
And he did ask. But that wasn’t all. When you left his study room that night to go home, something in you had changed. Nothing had happened without your consent, and yet it felt like he had invaded a part of you that you didn’t know existed. And the worst part was, you couldn’t wait for him to do it again.
And now, that damn sentence had become part of your routine.
After putting the kids to bed, and making sure they were asleep and snoring adorably, you made your way to those huge doors of his study room.
You didn’t need to knock anymore, you just walked in and shut the doors behind you.
And there he was. The man most people were scared of in this city. The man who had hired you as the nanny for his kids. Also the man whom you slept with each night before going home to your oblivious boyfriend.
Lando stood by the large window, looking down at his front yard which was easily one of the most impressive features of his cape cod style mansion. As usual, he was sipping on his drink. Hand running through his curly hair. He had his back to you but you knew he must have the top buttons of his shirt undone.
You cleared your throat as you approached his lean body standing by the window. Lando turned to face you then, smiling as he watched you walk over to him. Once you were close enough, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer.
Nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent he said, “Hi baby, how was your day?”
“Um, good.” You gasped when you felt his gentle kisses up and down your neck.
“How were the kids?” He asked, casually kissing your skin like this was normal.
“They were great, as always.” Your heart raced as you wrapped your arms around him, his body heat felt familiar and… good. It felt safe being here with him, no matter how wrong it was.
“You missed me?” He asked, pulling you even closer as he playfully nibbled on your skin. “‘Cause I missed you. I thought of you all day, you know that?” He pulled away to look at you. “I saw you in this little dress this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you in it.”
He leaned in to kiss you, like he always does, but tonight you stopped him. You turned your head just the slightest bit so he’d miss your mouth. And he didn’t like that.
“I… I can’t stay tonight.” You whispered, looking down at the buttons on his shirt instead of into his pretty eyes. Because you could never resist them.
Lando sighed, kissing along your jaw. You could smell a faint hint of the whiskey he’d just been drinking. “Why do you always do this? Hmm?” He whispered into your ear, “Why do you act like you don’t want this?”
He placed his glass down on his desk and let his hands wander all over you. He ended up pushing you onto the edge of his desk, stepping in between your legs. One hand sliding under your dress and caressing your thighs, while the other ran up and down your back lovingly.
“I have to go home.” You said, looking into his eyes and immediately regretting it because he could get you to do anything with one look of those soft eyes.
“To him?” He asked in an accusatory tone. His expression changed from calm to annoyed. He tsked in disappointment when you remained quiet. “How many times are you gonna talk about this, baby?”
“I can’t just break up with him.” You argued. “We’ve–,”
He cut you off. “Oh? So you can’t break up with him but you have no issues going home to him every night with my cum still dripping from your pussy, huh?”
You used to find his crude words shocking, but not anymore. “It’s not as easy as you think.”
Lando scoffed, “I’ll make it easier for you if you want.”
You knew what he insinuated. He was the man he was because of his crooked ways after all. And you immediately shook your head. “Don’t hurt him.”
That only pissed him off more. His hand moved from your back to wrap around your neck, “We’re not gonna play this little game anymore, you hear me?” He whispered against your skin, lips moving along your jaw while his fingers toyed with the seam of your underwear.
You struggled to find the right words. So he continued.
“How long are you gonna keep him in the dark, hmm? How long are you gonna keep going home and sleep beside him while you’re still filled with my cum every night?” He scoffed. “He’s gonna find out someday.” He stated. “Better tell him the truth.”
“Lando…” You were barely able to think coherently when he easily slid his fingers inside you, stroking you perfectly like he always does. You squirmed and whimpered, before whispering, “This is wrong. We should stop.”
“So you keep saying.” He answered, arrogant and smug. “Yet you come here each and every night to get fucked.” He pulled away to look into your eyes, still finger-fucking you just hard enough to keep you wanting more but not making you come just yet. “Does this feel wrong, baby?”
You let out a loud moan as his finger hit the right spot. “Please…” You begged, you didn’t know what for.
He smirked. “Look at you,” He cooed, “I know he doesn’t touch you like I do. You’re wasting your time with him when you belong to me. You belong right here,” He whispered, pulling his fingers all the way out before sliding them back in, making you moan even louder, “See?”
You opened your mouth to answer, probably about to beg him to touch you more, but he was already pushing you down onto his desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his lean waist as he bent down to kiss you. His hand still around your neck while the other slid the strap of your slip dress down your shoulder.
He let go of your throat eventually, still kissing you passionately as his hands quickly got rid of your dress, letting it fall to the ground careless as his mouth kissed down your neck, further down your chest until he latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as your back arched off the desk, with you whining in bliss.
You cried out, “Lando…”
“I know, baby.” He whispered, “I know.”
Your fingers found their way into his soft, curly hair and you tugged on it softly, making him groan as he kissed his way up to your neck once again while he slid your underwear down your legs quickly.
“You’re mine.” He whispered against your tender, swollen lips, “All mine.”
His hands quickly undid his trousers and you immediately felt his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your wet folds as he slid it up and down before aligning it to your dripping hole.
Lando held himself up with one hand, bent over you as he stared down at you. “You’re gonna break things off with him tonight.” He said in that authoritative voice of his, the one which made you tremble and clench your thighs together. “And tomorrow you’ll be all mine, and mine alone. You understand?”
You nodded, panting in need.
“That’s my good girl.” He whispered before slowly sliding his cock inside you. You whimpered as he filled you up perfectly, stretching you out just enough to make you lose your mind. He groaned as he began moving in and out of you, setting a pace that made your heart race even faster than before. He slowed down for a moment, thrusting into you nice and slow as he hovered above you, looking down at you with parted lips and intense eyes. “Do you know how often I think about us living here together?”
You couldn’t look away from his pretty eyes, couldn’t think about anything else as he fucked you with deep, slow strokes of his cock. He leaned in to kiss your lips, swallowing your moans as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, making you gasp and whine in pleasure.
“We’ll be so happy together.” He whispered, kissing along your jaw. “The kids love you,” Then he chuckled, “I love you,” He murmured into your ear. He picked up his pace then, pounding into you relentlessly, as he kissed your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and whimpers in the process. “Think about how happy we would be.”
You whined upon hearing his words, and also the sounds your bodies made together, filling the entire study.
“Look at me, baby.” He stared down at you, his pretty eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. “Do you know how often I think about you carrying more kids for me?” He was relentless as he pounded into you like he owned you. “You’ll be such a pretty mom, all swollen, and these tits would be nice and full too,” He leaned in again, kissing you softly before whispering, dangerously. “Would that finally make you leave that piece of shit? Hmm? Is that what it’s gonna take?”
You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you.
“I’ll…” You whined, “I’ll talk to him. Tonight.” You struggled to form proper sentences as his body moved perfectly against yours. “I promise.”
“That’s good.” He whispered, wiping a tear which fell down your face. “Because I’m done being patient now, you hear me?”
You nodded quickly, whining as he sped up again, fucking you so hard you could hear the papers and files on top of his desk falling to the ground and neither of you cared.
“Come for me, baby.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. “Come with me.”
Your mind was foggy by then, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you, his cock throbbing against your walls.
“Fuck,” He came with a growl, gripping your hips and filling you up like he always does.
You whined as you came around him as well, crying his name and moaning loudly. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again.
“Tomorrow,” He whispered, reminding you of what you promised, “I’ll fuck you in my bed until the sun comes up.”
You could only nod as you felt his cum beginning to drip down your inner thighs.
—
He stood by the window again, watching your car as it drove away down the long driveway and out of his property.
This would be the last time he promised himself. From now on you wouldn’t have to go home each night. You’d just stay right here, where you belonged, under his roof and in his care.
But just in case things didn’t go according to plan…
Lando grabbed his phone and made a quick call. Barking his orders at his guy who listened intently on the other side.
“She just left. Go wait by her apartment complex.” He smirked as he spoke, “I’m willing to bet they’ll have an argument, and just as always, he’ll storm out to go get some air.”
Lando knew that because… well, he always kept an eye on you through the discrete cameras he’d had installed all around your building. How else would he sleep in peace if he didn’t have eyes on his girl at all times?
He continued, “I’ll tell you when he leaves her apartment, and you’ll move then. Wait for him to walk past the alleyway, and remember, make it look like an accident.” He sighed, even as excitement washed over him, “Can’t have my girl blame me for killing her ex boyfriend.”
--
part 2
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#mob!lando#lando norris au#lando norris x you#f1#f1 imagine#lando norris smut
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request. you falling asleep on skz’s chest and telling them you love them for the first time in your sleep
sorry it took me so long, anon! but here is the request u sent me
BANG CHAN
— it would be a little late in the night when you finally fall asleep, maybe around 11pm. it’s one of the rare days chan doesn’t allow himself to fall prisoner to another all-nighter (not that it ever bothered you, but chan’s been making effort in spending more time with you in the present instead of in his head)
— he definitely sleeps better with you, how could he not? with your head on his chest and your cheek a little mushed and your lips in a small pout and your ear to his heart. it’s perfect circumstances to sleep and your breathing is such a lullaby to him, and a reminder to ground himself in the present more to enjoy moments like these. you guys don’t get to cuddle often so it’s nice to take everything in when he can
— chan’s just on the verge of falling asleep when you say it and i think he wouldn’t be able to believe it first (talk about an instant alarm ?). he’d just blink down at you for a moment before the sweetest smile plasters on his face, the crinkled eyes until they almost disappear and lip biting type to stop himself from smiling too much
— his heart would just expand tenfold because you really are the person he sees himself with in the future and to hear those three words he’s almost told you a million times before leave your lips is just so reassuring and so beautiful to him; that you love him back, and he can’t wait to tell you in the morning
— when he’s finally processed it, he’d lean down to kiss you .. just every part of your face. but like, he’s so careful about it so you don’t wake up
— he falls asleep maybe half an hour later because all his life his mind has been running and running and running but with you in his arms, and those three words, he feels so safe that he allows his mind to rest. sometimes, it’s enough to just let his heart beat and love
❝ i love you. god, i love you too. i’ve been wanting to say it for so long now. ❞
LEE MINHO
— i think lee know’s def the type to know he’s in love first because it’s such a drastic difference to suddenly consider you in everything when he used to never do it before and he’s not oblivious to his feelings. like he’s the same but also so different ? little gestures of love would build up to his light bulb moment that he is so in love with you and he wants nothing more than to tell you but he doesn’t want to scare you off
— you stay over at his house when it happens. doing schoolwork? cramming for a paper? somewhere along those lines. you never notice the time when you’re with him and suddenly seconds turn into hours and it’s too late for you to commute home and lee know’s mom used their car so he can’t drive you home either. just proposes you stay over bc it’s not like you haven’t done it before
— you two always spend silence in comfort so he doesn’t know you’re asleep at first when you say those three words to him and the way you say it is so faint that he almost misses it. but he doesn’t. he hears it loud and clear
— his heart swells even more when he looks down to see your eyes closed and your mouth slightly parted and his response is just the fondest expression on his face. the most endearing smile and a finger brushing over your features because wow, this is the girl that snuck her way into his heart and unknowingly stole every part of him
— would brush your hair out of your face to see you properly before finally whispering that he loves you too. he’d say the three words the next morning.
— years later, he’d always brag he was the first to tell you that he loved you but you’d never know it was you. it’s a little secret he keeps to himself, and the moment is so intimate that it’s his only
❝ ah, (name). you’re all i’ve ever wanted, did you know? ❞
SEO CHANGBIN
— for changbin, i truly believe there is no moment of sudden realization. he’s well acquainted with love like i think he’s most in touch with that emotion. he feels so deeply and i think he learned most of that from his mother. he wouldn’t be afraid to embarrass himself in the name of love. in fact, he thinks it’s the greatest feeling on earth and it’s something you shouldn’t ever take for granted (i’m sorry, i’m a softie changbin enthusiast)
— everything is steady with him. loves you more day by day by day but he’s always known he’s been in love with you and nothing is ever overwhelming with him like it’s always so safe
— when you say it, he feels his heart beat 98383 times faster because what do you mean the person he’s so in love with loves him back ? like i feel like it just doesn’t cross his mind honestly. like he loves you and that’s that and he’s satisfied with loving you but suddenly his whole world just stops when he hears those words
— changbin would try to keep his position still though, even though he feels like jumping around and spinning you around in his arms but he just doesn’t want to shake you awake from your sleep
— spends the rest of the night thinking about you saying that you love him. there’s nothing more beautiful than the reciprocation of a feeling of love so great
❝ i love you, and that’s always been enough for me, but god does it feel so great to hear it from you. ❞
HWANG HYUNJIN
— he loves like in movies, in books, in art. despite being such a hopeless romantic though, everything is actually so new to him. it’s only with you that he experiences that shortness of breath, that jumble of words, that all-nighter because you can’t stop thinking about the person you love the most, and those damn butterflies
— even the first time you fall asleep on his chest, he freaks out. and he freaks out even after the 9183th time but who can blame him? he may look like such an expert, such a poet, such a man of love, but he’s nothing more than a boy who’s falling in love for the first time
— so, it is the 9184th time you’re asleep on his chest and he has a hand running through your hair when you mumble it in your sleep
— FREEZES. for maybe a good 5 mins? honestly it feels like forever because he really is frozen. and then, that music plays. the music when the love interest shows up on the screen in movies. it plays in his head and his heart is pouncing like crazy and it’s just such a moment to be in love
— pulls you closer when he finally recomposes himself and has the most lovesick smile on his face for maybe an hour before he allows himself to fall asleep because this is all he’s ever dreamed of
❝ you’re someone straight out of my dreams. ❞
HAN JISUNG
— to me, jisung feels a little reckless when he loves. but like, not in a bad way. it’s more like, he’s been careful his whole life and keeping on a guard because he values his silence and his comfort over everything else but god, when he loves? he jumps straight in. he jumps even without the guarantee of anyone catching him. when he loves, there is no doubt, no second guessing. he simply dives head first
— he’s falling again, falling and falling, it’s never ending. even as you fall asleep on his chest one afternoon after watching a movie together
— he JERKS the moment he hears you say it like actually just jerks from his place and accidentally wakes you up from your slumber
— you freak when you wake up thinking that something must’ve happened because he’s staring at you with wide eyes but at the same time, he’s also apologizing for accidentally waking you up. you’re just in the process of asking him about it when he cuts you off by kissing you
— when you kiss him back, there is nothing in his head but “wow, so this must be the feeling of being caught” because he’s finally landed safely in your arms after all that falling
— don’t be mistaken though, he’d fall over and over again because the feeling of having you catch him is so addicting
❝ (name), is this real? ❞
LEE FELIX
— oh felix, the sweetest boy who falls in love in the sweetest way. definitely is the type to see colors brighter and hear music louder and just have all his feelings amplify because of you. stars come together when you look at him and he feels himself revolving around you like he’s just !!! there is no explaining how deep this boy loves. it’ll be like fireworks, like earthquakes, like thunderstorms but it’ll also feel like breathing and the quiet patter of rain. you get every variant of love with him because he’s so adamant on showing you every part of him
— you two cuddle up to each other all the time. he loves skinship, he loves physical touch, he loves holding you and being held and kissing you and hugging you and everything that makes it feel like you’re close to him so he doesn’t question when you fall asleep on his chest
— he’s on his phone, probably taking a picture or video of you when you suddenly say it. there’s just instant tears in his eyes the moment the words leave your mouth. he cries because he’s overwhelmed that you feel the same way about him and he’s scolding himself for being so dramatic over it but also he seriously cannot stop crying like what have you done to him?
— smiles and cries and laughs and leans down to kiss your head over and over and over and you can only ask why his eyes are so red and puffed when you wake up and he wastes no time to tell you that he loves you. drops it immediately. he’s been waiting forever to say it anyway (actually, he’s said it quite a few times but only when he thinks you can’t hear)
— won’t stop saying it anymore like every hour is a good opportunity to tell you that he loves you
❝ i can’t get over how beautiful it is to love and it’s all thanks to you. ❞
KIM SEUNGMIN
— the peak best friends to lovers story. seungmin isn’t the type to throw the feeling of love around. he isn’t the type to fall in love quickly either. he falls in love in moments you spend as friends, but it also kind of takes him such a long time to admit it because he’s always rejected the idea of romance and the gentle emotions that come with it. he’s so used to teasing and tough love that he suddenly can’t function properly when he realizes he’s growing softer because of you
— seungmin holds out from saying ‘i love you’, mostly because it’s hard to rid the stubbornness he’s carried all his life, but don’t get me wrong. there are so many times when he’s almost said it but stopped himself before he could. maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to startle you either. it’s a scary feeling after all, and being his best friend, you know about all his flaws. how could you choose to love him despite it all?
— even so, he is still powerless to love. no one can ever go above the feeling no matter how hard he tries. when you say it in your sleep, he finally lets go of whatever he’s been holding on for so long. he’s ready to willingly admit he’s in love with you and has been for such a long time
— he runs a hand through your hair, just thinking of how comforting it is to be with you, of how you make him smile without even having to be there with him. just the thought of you makes him so happy and it’s infuriating because why does losing to love feel so much like winning instead? is it because it’s you he’s falling in love with?
— would ask you if you’re sure because he’s someone that values sureness, honesty, and just Purpose. he loves on purpose and he wants to make sure you love him by your own choice too. he’s always chosen to take every step closer to you all his life
❝ do you really mean that? please mean it. ❞
YANG JEONGIN
— time always slows when you’re with him. he also gives me romance between friends because like seungmin, he’s not the type to take love lightly. he only ever says the three words in important moments. he never wants to just throw those words around because romance is so important to him, and he’s always been the one to seek for it because it’s so beautiful
— when he meets you, he just thinks, so this is what love is. he understands now why people tell stories about it, why it’s subject to so many songs. he understands when he looks in your eyes
— it’s an afternoon of teasing where your eyes meet and you just double in laughter because whatever the hell you’re talking about is so funny to only the two of you. the boys will never understand the language you’ve crafted for yourselves
— you fall asleep after having played games and ran around and teased each other all afternoon and it’s in his arms while the two of you are watching a movie
— when you say it, he falls silent. he closes his eyes and crosses his fingers and prays he isn’t just dreaming this up, might pinch himself even because it’s just so unreal to him that you love him like he might be the Foolish silly type but when he loves, he really does give it his all
— you wake up at one of the louder scenes of the movies and you’re like ??? why is jeongin staring at you like that so you’re like stop staring .. but he kind of just grins really LOVESICK and you’re like oh my god what is happening. he’s looking at you different and his eyes are softer
— with a yank of your shirt, he kisses you and mumbles how much he loves you against your lips
❝ i love you. and i will choose to love you everytime. ❞
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2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).
-💎
ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.
rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.
rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.
“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.
“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.
“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”
you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”
he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.
“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.
“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”
a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.
rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.
“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.
he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.
“cum.”
he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”
your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”
rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.
your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.
“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.
he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”
if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.
“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”
#💎anon#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#dark rafe cameron x reader#dark! rafe cameron#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron prompt
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