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misslovasstuff · 1 month

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Op!men with girlfriends that get excited about them being angry

paired with: Sanji, Zoro, Ace and Law.

content: kinda suggestive (nsfw)

Sanji

he would NEVER get angry at you, like NEVER

Sanji didn’t know about this weird side of yours but being the sharp genius that he is, sometimes there were clues he put together when you two were being intimate

Let’s just say you got a bit too excited when he grabbed your flesh tightly and when you hear him groan, at times when you teased him at the point when you think he’d snap at you… but he didn’t

He was torn apart between ‘do I give her what she wants so she’s satisfied’ and ‘but I would never wanna hurt or disrespect a woman’.

Despite the dilemma, he especially noticed your gaze on him when he was angry or whenever he was fighting an opponent

He’d think you’d have a more worrisome look on your face but no, you’re literally melting while watching his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched as he cusses some filthy words out of frustration

He brushes it off this time as well, thinking whether he should ask you about it.

However, when you thought that there was no way Sanji would ever get mad at you, there is a detail you ignored: he gets most angry when you’re in danger

So the day you voluntarily put yourself in harm’s way, that was the day you sat down and listened to him attentively as he ranted at your carelessness.

“You think going on your own against such a strong opponent is the right thing? You could have died if I didn’t come at the right time! What were you thinking?!”

His tone of voice is louder than usual, his eyes wide and not looking at anything else but you.

Sanji sighs and rubs his temple, closing his eyes to recollect himself.

Once he opens them and gazes at your direction, about to apologise for the way he got mad at you just now, he meets your blushing face and eyes that reflect a gaze much in awe.

Obviously you were in an effect other than what Sanji expected.

“Uhm, love? Are you alright, I’m sorry, I just… you have no idea how worried you got me and…”

You blink after a while, gulping as you cross your legs and giving a fake cough.

“No need to apologise. I acted selfishly.”

Sanji notices your flushed demeanour. Seeing you sat on that chair, legs crossed, a strong grip on the base and head lowered down as to hide your blush, it made him smirk a little bit as he approached slowly.

He presses his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs, his face only centimetres away from yours. He’s grinning, scanning your face and realising that he was right about his doubts:

“You like it when I’m mad at you, huh?”

Sanji asks and you avoid his gaze but he tilts his head to meet it nevertheless.

“You get excited by watching me so heated up, don’t you?”

Biting your lip, you finally meet his eyes and nod.

“You must be so frustrated then. It’s almost impossible to make me mad at you.”

You sigh: “Tell me about it.”

After you both chuckle, Sanji leans in and whispers in your ear:

“I can give a list of things you can do to make me mad, love. I also like it when my girl misbehaves sometimes.”

Zoro

“You’re an absolute freak you know that?”

“Oh come on Zoro, say it one more time for me…”

Your boyfriend is not known for his patience.

Zoro sighs, rolling his eyes with a hidden smile: “You’re impossible. How can you be into this kind of thing? Listen to me and just-“

You pout, averting your gaze and giving up on convincing him.

But your boyfriend is known for having a weak spot for you.

Zoro notices, grabbing your hand and guides you to somewhere.

You’re confused but follow him nonetheless.

He stops and gazes around then pushes you harshly against the wall, his arms surrounding you.

“Want me to get mad at you? That’d be easy giving how much you get on my nerves.”

Of course, you let out a soft moan, undeniably making the swordsman excited on his own accord as well.

“You always wanna get your way!”

He whispers aggressively, grabbing a hold of your hair, causing you to tilt your head.

“Why you never listen to me, huh?!”

Zoro’s voice becomes louder in a breathy way as he bites your ear, then drags his lips along your jaw.

“I listen to you, Zoro… I really do…”

You moan his name as your hands press against his chest, travelling up where you put them around his neck.

With this, Zoro pulls you closer as you arch your back, leaving bite marks on your neck.

“You won’t do this again, right? - Zoro asks. It receives no response other than your loud moaning. - Right?”

He asks again, grabbing your jaw and making you look at his gaze directly which is so firm, fierce and possessive.

“I won’t… I won’t…” - you whisper, gazing at his lips before he crashes his with yours, beginning one of the hottest make out sessions you ever had.

It’s not your fault he ends up doing what you want over and over again and that’s the key that makes him mad, and that’s how you know he likes it too.

Ace

“Fucking shit!” - Ace cusses, throwing his broken log pose in the sea.

When he does so, his body catches fire a little bit but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

You on the other hand, you do notice of course.

The way he brushes his hair backward as he sighs, placing his hands on his hips as he tilts his head back, gazing at the sky.

“Fuck it, that was the only way we could find our way to the island. Damn it!”

Whilst his back is in front of you, Ace does not notice you biting your lip and looking at him up and down.

“Don’t get so mad, babe. I’m sure we will figure it out.” - you state, getting up and hugging him from behind, hands resting on his chest which he grabs and lets you experience the warmth.

“Right. - he calms down, turning to face you. - Now, why are you looking at me like that?”

Ace is intrigued at the expression of your face. There was obvious excitement there and the way you’re now pressing your chest against his is making the guy visibly confused.

“Does it make you mad that I’m looking at you this way?” - you ask, giggling.

“Of course not, sweet thing. How can I be mad at you?” - he puts some strands behind your ear and notices now a bit of disappointment evidently shown in your face.

“Can you say that again for me?” - you ask, tracing his chest with your finger.

“Say what?”

“The way you cussed earlier… can you…”

Ace was catching on with what you meant, but still thought is was funny to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me, - he grabs your chin a bit harshly. - what do you want me to say to you?”

You gulp, licking your lips before claiming:

“Get mad at me like that, say ‘damnit’ and ‘fuck’ to me.

“Ohhh, - Ace smirks, pulling your lower lip down with his thumb. - I have a better idea, how about I fuck you instead? Promise I’ll get angry at you as you ride me in an agonising slow pace and make me mad at my core, aight?”

Law

Your boyfriend acts nonchalant most of the time. It you know deep down this man is crazy for you.

He’s usually calm and collected and the few times you’ve seen him lose his marbles was around the time you traveled with the strawhats.

Now you wonder, how can you make him a bit mad, just a little bit to spice things up.

However all your efforts did not amount to anything. The way you achieved what you wanted was from a random man who approached you on the street while you were with Law.

“What a beauty! You’re free tonight, sweetheart? I’ll rock your world i prom-

Certainly he was drunk, but Law did not hesitate in teleporting that man away as you heard a scream from afar.

“Asshole.” - he cusses, grabbing your hand tightly as continuing walking.

Your heart is beating like crazy. You didn’t want to provoke him further but on the other hand…

“He said he was gonna rock my world.” - you claim, smiling at him as he turns his face to look at you, confused.

“So what? - Law asks, stoping his pace and pulling you by your hand into his arms. - You’re curious now?”

It’s hard to hide your blush as his eyes gaze into yours with a passion different from other times. His grip on your waist tightens as his hands travel up your body to your chest.

You let out a small moan: “maybe I’m curious, yes.” Trying to tease him backfire as he grins and whispers to you.

“You’re really making me mad here. - he gropes your tights aggressively. - You know damn well I can rock your world as well, don’t you?”

In attempt to keep him irritated, you say: “I might have forgotten about that.”

Man, the look in eyes is insane.

“Oh, really?” - law questions, shaking his head and clicking his jaw. - He teases your nipples with his fingers, making you suck in your teeth.

“Let me refresh your damn screwed memory then, love.”

#one piece #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji headcanons #zoro smut #one piece zoro #zoro headcanons #ace one piece #ace headcanons #portgas d ace #law x you #law headcanons #op law #law x reader #sanji x you #zoro x you #ace x reader #one piece headcanons

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draconic-desire · 4 months

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A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III] [Part IV]

Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end

One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.

The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.

You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.

Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.

“Do you like it?”

Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.

When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”

You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.

Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”

Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.

“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”

Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”

Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.

Marvelous.

Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”

You stepped in and immediately went still.

For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.

Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.

And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.

Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.

All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”

“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”

You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?

Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.

However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.

“Neuvillette?”

Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”

His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”

~*~

It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.

He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?

A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.

A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.

He’d given you this coat.

“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.

“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”

Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”

You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”

“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”

“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”

“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”

“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”

Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”

You sketched a brow in surprise.

Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”

You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?

As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”

~.~

You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.

Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.

But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.

Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.

You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.

At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.

And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.

Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.

“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.

If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.

Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.

~*~

The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.

You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.

But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.

You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.

Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.

Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?

This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.

You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.

Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.

Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”

Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”

You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”

“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.

“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”

He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”

You seethed. “Well, I do.”

Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”

Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”

The room went utterly still.

Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”

It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.

On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.

Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”

You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”

Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”

Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.

"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.

The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.

Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.

It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—

Oh, fuck.

Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.

“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.

Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.

Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.

“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”

~*~

You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.

You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.

You had to escape this prison.

#yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #dragon #obsessive love #tw kidnapping #tw noncon touching #neuvillette doesn’t understand the concept of personal space #neuvillette is down bad #mates

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kotias · 3 months

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Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable rockstars #human AU #fanfiction

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heliads · 6 months

Text

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things: either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him: he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top.

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily.

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer.

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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balletfilmss · 2 months

Text

SWEET RELIEF

✸ pairing: jason grace x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: jason got you sick, so now he’s on nurse duty

✸ warnings: not proofread, i might’ve swore like, twice

✸ notes: IM sick rn so i’m neglecting my requests and giving you this instead while wondering where my jason is to take care of me

this was it. this was how you were going to die.

after all the things you’d faced as a heroic demigod, you were going to go down under a heap of tissue, cough medicine, and periodic thermometer checks.

you were going to be taken out by the fucking flu.

laying in your bed, half your limbs covered in blankets and the others exposed to the air because your body couldn’t yet decide if it was boiling hot or freezing cold, you felt miserable.

your thoughts of just succumbing to illness and wondering what the doors of death looked like were interrupted by the creak of your door opening, revealing your boyfriend with a bottle of water and medicine in hand.

now, jason was a helicopter boyfriend on any given day, but considering the fact that he was the parasite who’d given you the flu after he’d had it the week before, he was extra hovery now that you were under the weather. and you’d taken care of him when he was sick, so in his words, he was only returning the favor.

“hey sweetheart,” he said, sock-fitted feet padding closer to your bedside. “how you feeling?”

how, exactly, were you to answer that question? without sounding insane, that is.

how did you explain that you could physically feel the clothes you were wearing weighing on your skin and how even lying still your muscles ached like they’d been over-exerted for hours?

unwilling to sound like a nut job, you answered with a nasally grumble instead.

that wasn’t the answer jason was looking for, of course, but he still set your water down on the nightstand and didn’t ask a follow up question.

“here’s your medicine.”

“keep it,” you pouted, looking at the evil little pills from tartarus sitting in his gentle palm.

“c’mon, you have to take them.”

knowing he was right and unable to find it in yourself to fight, you took the medicine with gulps of water and a few grimaces, but hey, you took them nonetheless.

“your hands are cold,” jason observed after your hands had brushed his to grab the pills.

“well, i’m freezing so that would make sense.” you admitted.

and that was all jason needed to hear before he’d left the room and returned with a fluffy blanket. he fanned it out and layered it on top of the one you were already underneath and, as any good on-nurse-duty boyfriend would, climbed right underneath it with you.

“jase, no, this is exactly how i got sick,” you complained, trying fruitlessly to shove him away.

“i’ve already had it,” he reasoned. “i’m practically immune now.”

“immune, my ass,” you grumbled. “but i’ll let you stay because you’re warm.”

perfect, because he wasn’t going to leave you anyways!

jason wrapped you up in his arms as closely as he could, resting your head on his chest as you snuggled into his shirt. he pulled the blankets up to your chin, making sure to trap in as much warmth as possible.

as you began to lull to sleep, overtaken with fatigue, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, giving you a final squeeze before your found some relief from illness in your dreams.

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 1 year

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taedros taedros

part two: taedros twodros ☆ part three: taedros tresdros**NEW wc: 2k reader: femme afab warnings: MINORS DNI EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ -- porn with plot, oral f!receiving, swearing, calling tae a virgin loser as a joke, mentioning the weeknd LMAO summary: loserbestfriend!taerae makes you watch the idol on hbo max with him for movie night, but a certain convertible scene sparks your "curiosity" more than the others... and taerae proves he might not be such a loser after all. :0 omg who am i?? i even wrote in all lower case letters in the fic to throw you off... i know you'll know right away though but that's not the point lmao!! i just didn't think i should be this horny for taerae on main so. here's the dedicated zb1 smut blog no one was asking for (except me. i was asking for it so let me live.) thank you to taerae for posting these pics next to each other and ruining my life. also the idol sucks and sam levinson and the weeknd are horrific for creating it. i only know some scenes from it because i watch comedy commentary videos about it. jennie is beautiful tho love her. ALSO i thought of this title and i cried laughing. mwahaha okay thanks for reading byeeeee

“this is the worst show I’ve ever seen in my life,” you say with a laugh, throwing a piece of popcorn in your mouth. “i can’t believe we’ve made it through two episodes already.”

🚨 SMUT BELOW CUT -- MINORS DNI -- 18+ 🚨

taerae sighs, “i think i’m gonna need to bleach my eyes.”

“throw some in my ears while you’re at it,” you joke, letting a leg drape over your best friend’s. you’re crammed together in the bottom bunk of his dorm room bed, watching the idol on the tv that’s hung at the foot of it. “i will never, ever be unable to hear the weeknd whispering, ‘stretch that tiny little pussy for me’. and every single day i will beg the lord for mercy.”

“are we sure we wanna watch the third episode?” taerae asks-- shifting a bit next to you. “this show is so graphic.”

“of course the virgin wants to chicken out,” you tease, smacking his stomach with a pillow. he grabs it from you and leaves it there. “you’re the one who wanted to watch it! now you wanna quit two episodes in? not gonna happen. we can make it through this.”

if you hadn’t pressed play at that exact moment, you would’ve heard taerae gulp beside you.

the intro of the show plays, assaulting your eyes with an up-close and personal view of jocelyn’s bare chest. what else is new? you yawn, hoping the third episode’s graphic scenes (at the very least) won’t be repetitive. bitch has put on a blindfold to end both episodes so far...

sitting with your back leaning against the wall, you try to steal a glance at taerae. his upper back is propped up on his pillow as he lies perpendicular to you, facing the tv screen. you watch his eyes, catching the subtle dilation of his pupils. it could be the light from the television in the otherwise dark room shifting their size, but you find yourself curious nonetheless.

“do you think she’s pretty?” you ask suddenly.

taerae coughs. “me? do i think the actress is pretty?”

you nod, eyes returning to the screen in hopes that the lack of eye contact will make taerae feel comfortable enough to give you an answer.

“she’s pretty, yeah,” he says after a moment.

“like, you’re attracted to her?” you clarify, throwing another piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“uh,” he hesitates and you feel his legs tense up under yours. “i guess. i mean she’s not really my type, but--.”

“but you like her tits.”

“exactly,” taerae agrees too quickly. “wait, no--.”

“no need to walk it back,” you cut him off with a snort. “boobs are hot. end of story.”

taerae sits up a bit more, seemingly trying to relax after your probing. you didn’t talk to taerae about sex or girls all that much, but you’d be lying if you said the show hadn’t suddenly made you a bit curious. what experience did your lovable loser of a best friend have-- if any at all?

the interrogatory questions you’re suddenly wanting to ask are thrown from your brain, however, as the show now cuts to a shot of the weeknd (you and taerae refuse to call him tedros tedros) and jocelyn in the back of a convertible-- their poor assistant driving these two insufferable cretins down the freeway.

nothing’s out of the ordinary until jocelyn crawls from her seat and lifts one leg to straddle the weeknd. she’s in a slinky tangerine bodysuit and little black shorts and the weeknd’s hands easily envelope her waist. you roll your eyes, already having grown so sick of these two.

but when jocelyn is suddenly pushed to the edge of the seat, her back against the car door and her head resting on the frame-- your attention is piqued. the weeknd wraps his hands around her thighs, prying them apart so he can pull her shorts to the side just enough to fit his tongue. the actress’s head lolls back over the car door frame; her blonde hair dangling over the side and flowing in the wind. her face is screwed up in absolute bliss and the sounds coming out of her confirm her state.

would she really be screaming like that just from his tongue?

“um,” you hear taerae say and you look over at him curiously. “if-- if he’s good with it, then yeah. she would be, i guess.”

you frown. what was he talking about? if he’s good with what? ... oh fuck, you think as you realize that you’d accidentally said your previous thought out loud. and now poor taerae is stumbling to give you an answer.

what did he say? if he’s good with it then she would be.

“huh,” you mumble, your brow furrowing as you ponder his answer.

you turn back to the tv, but taerae clears his throat. “what?”

“what? what do you mean, what?”

“why did you say ‘huh’ like that?” he asks, the pillow on his stomach rustling as he shifts slightly. “do you not agree or something?”

“oh, uh,” you stutter as you feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what to say. “um, i guess i wouldn’t know.”

the silence from taerae is deafening as your eyes stay locked on the tv. you’re not sure why you said that. you could’ve just lied. you should’ve just lied.

“are you a virgin?” taerae asks softly. the accusation whips your head around to stare at him angrily and his eyes widen cautiously.

“obviously not,” you answer in a huff. “i just... i’ve never...”

you look down at your lap, picking at the skin on your fingers. you should stop while you can. you don’t need to tell the truth. why are you even considering telling him this?

“no one’s ever gone down on me or anything.”

“oh,” taerae manages to respond after a long moment, but you can’t even look at him.

“yeah.”

another moment of silence. “you shouldn’t be, like, embarrassed by that. that’s... that’s entirely their fault for not prioritizing you, you know?”

your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, the aforementioned embarrassment flushing your skin as you nod. the show is still playing, but you can only hear garbled sounds. why did you tell him that!? now taerae has to awkwardly comfort you when you could’ve just shut your mouth in the first place. you didn’t really talk about these kinds of things with taerae. your best friend was there for movie nights, chinese food binges, laughing until you cry, and most importantly taking the absolute piss out of...

and here you were making him uncomfortable by randomly talking about your oral virginity.

“would you want me to do it?”

taerae’s voice is so quiet that you’re positive for a moment that you hallucinated it. you look over at your best friend tentatively to find his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping his pillow to his stomach.

“what?”

taerae blinks nervously. “if you wanted to, you know, try it... i could--.”

“WHAT!?” you shout; hands grabbing the pillow on taerae’s stomach and throwing it across the room. “are you-- are you fucking joking!? you think i’m desperate enough to ask my best friend to eat me out?”

“no, no, no,” taerae respond quickly, hands flying up in defense. “not at all!”

“then what?” you ask, jaw setting in anger as you wait for a good enough answer to keep you from punching him in the balls.

taerae’s lips form the slightest pout. “you seemed really curious about it. i just... i just thought i’d offer.”

you bite your lip as you think. “what do you even know about that kind of thing? I thought you were a virgin loser.”

“ouch,” taerae says but quickly shrugs it off. “i guess you’re only right about half of that statement.”

you frown. even though you’d never talked about it before, was taerae secretly experienced? more experienced than you?

“you don’t have to say yes though,” he adds quickly. “i’m sorry; i probably shouldn’t have said any--.”

“okay,” you cut him off softly.

taerae’s eyes widen in surprise. “okay?”

you nod slowly. “i don’t believe you that you’re not a virgin loser, but if you’re offering...”

taerae sits up, leaning on his hands as a little smirk lights up his face. “i’ll eat you out and then you can eat those words. how does that sound?”

the way your heat flutters at his words catches you off guard. so does the way he swiftly flips you onto your back as you take the position he was just in.

“whoah,” you exhale, your best friend absolutely knocking the wind out of you as he positions himself between your thighs. he takes the hem of your shorts in his fingers, eyebrows raising at you expectantly. you lift up your hips enough for him to shimmy them off, discarding them on the floor without taking his eyes off your still-clothed center.

you glance at your underwear, panic immediately hitting you when you realize you wore the only clean pair that you had left...

a black, lace thong.

they were the only pair left, because you honestly hadn’t had a reason to wear them in a little while.

“fuck,” taerae curses, hands wrapped around the outsides of your thighs. “were you going somewhere after this or...?”

“if you don’t shut your mouth, i’ll be going somewhere before this,” you threaten, but the words come out shakier than you would’ve liked as taerae begins to plant open-mouthed kisses up your thighs. “... ‘s laundry day tomorrow.”

“mm, I see,” he replies, shifting his weight to one hand so he can bring his right hand to your heat. your heart rate rises as he moves towards where you’re quickly growing to need his attention most. two fingers press at your clothed-core gently and the sound of the tv in the background does nothing to dampen the moan that escapes you from just the small amount of pressure.

“laundry day’s coming just in time i think,” taerae says, a smirk highlighting his cavernous dimples in a light you’ve never seen before. “from the way you’re soaking through these.”

“shut up,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cover your face. taerae hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging at them playfully to get your attention. peeking out through your fingers, you glare at him.

“do you want to stop?” he asks, removing his hands quickly. “we can stop if you want to or need to or anything.”

you reach down and grab both of his hands in yours, reattaching them to your underwear. “please keep going.”

he blinks at you for a moment before nodding, pulling your thong down your legs as you lift your hips up for him. taerae lies down fully in between your thighs now, guitar-string calloused hands wrapping around your thighs and guiding them to rest on his shoulders.

“so pretty,” he whispers. eyes focusing on your throbbing cunt, taerae’s grip on your legs gets a little tighter-- a little more desperate. “really.”

“thanks,” you respond shyly, watching as a bit of steam begins to coat the rim of taerae’s glasses. you can’t help but smile as you reach for them, carefully removing the frames and placing them on the stand next to his bed.

“thanks,” he echoes.

“i’m still not convinced that you aren’t a-- oh fuck...” just as you’re about to tease your loser of a best friend again, his tongue finds your core and licks a long stripe up from your opening to your clit. taerae exhales a laugh against your pussy, tongue circling your clit as his hands now take hold of your hips.

“wait, what the fuck?” you whine breathlessly as he works you over with his mouth. “tae, i thought... oh my god.”

“taste so good, baby,” taerae moans like he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. he slips a finger in your entrance carefully, stretching you until he deems you ready for a second. “Think this pussy might be perfect.”

his eyes are closed; eating at you like you’re his favorite meal. it’s hot. way hotter than the scene from the show. way hotter than anything on that stupid show-- in which another sex scene is playing on the screen behind taerae. you suddenly feel so much pity for jocelyn; one of the hardest characters in history to pity. but the fact that there’s no way tedros fucking tedros is eating her out as good as taerae’s eating you out right now is tugging at your heart strings.

“tae,” you whimper, feeling the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten. your hand tangling up in his hair at the nape of his neck causes him to moan into you and the vibration only makes you tug harder. “please, please wanna cum.”

“already? you sure?” he says, disappointment coating his voice. “could eat this pussy all night.”

“holy shit,” you exhale. you didn’t even know taerae was capable of talking like this. the only time he ever said pussy around you was if he was calling you one. now as he looks up at you from between your thighs, his pretty dimpled-smile covered in your juices as he continues to fuck you with his fingers and press his thumb against your clit...

you’re nodding frantically now. “please, please tae. make me cum.”

“fuck, baby, okay. whatever you want,” he agrees quickly, the lust in his eyes at your demand reaching a whole new level. he removes his thumb from your clit and the sudden lack of contact causes you to whine pathetically. “sshhh, don’t worry baby. i’ve got something even better, i promise.”

just as some tears from frustration are welling up in your eyes, taerae’s lips close around your clit and he begins to suck. “oh my GOD,” is all you can manage as your orgasm starts to wash over you. “taerae. oh my god, tae... c-cumming.”

you’re grinding your pussy against his tongue now to maximize the friction and the way he lifts your hips a bit to bring you even closer tells you that he’s loving every second of this. your moans match the ones that taerae is mewing into your core. he places your hips back down onto the mattress, holding them steady as you start to squirm a bit from the overstimulation. he continues to lap at you gently as your hand falls from his hair to his shoulder, causing him to look up at you.

your cheeks are red now from both your climax and the new wave of embarrassment that’s creeping up on you. you’re not sure what to say, but luckily taerae’s got you covered.

he inserts two fingers inside of you again and then pulls them out-- covered in your juices. without hesitating, he sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean. “you’ve tasted yourself, right? probably a lot. fuck, i’m so jealous.”

your jaw drops a bit, now doubly unable to speak at the filth pouring out of your best friend’s mouth..

taerae frowns at you. “what? you want to make this awkward now?”

you shake your head.

“was it good?” he asks, head tilting to the side as he squints slightly. you reach over to his nightstand and grab his glasses, handing them back to him. he puts them on; raising his hand to ruffle his hair.

“you know it was good,” you mumble annoyedly.

he grins. “yeah. i do.”

“UGH,” you groan, hiding behind your hands again. “i hate you.”

“please, pleeeease tae,” he mocks, climbing up closer to your face to really rub it in. “make me cum.”

“SHUT UP!” you shout, hitting his chest with your fists in annoyance. “do not get cocky about this.”

taerae shrugs, biting his lip to keep from smirking. “i guess you never wanna do this again then?”

you sigh defeatedly before replying softly, “i didn’t say that.”

“good,” he says with a smile-- shifting to the edge of the bed and standing up. “i’m gonna get you some water and a towel, okay? don’t move a muscle.”

you don’t. taerae had made sure of that with the orgasm he’d just pulled out of you. as the door to his dorm room closes behind him, you’re left with only your thoughts and the sound of that shitty tv show playing in the background. you reach for the remote weakly, pressing pause on a bizarre scene of the weeknd jerking it over a clothing rack (?).

all you can think about, though, is taerae lapping at your pussy like a starved man. what the fuck just happened? did you really just let your best friend eat you out?

and how the fuck had he managed to leave you wanting more?

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hopelessrromantix · 11 months

Note

Sending a less intense ask now that I know you didn't disappear. How about Miguel x male reader who's cannon event was losing his husband, his worlds Miguel. (Hurt/Comfort)

Or Miguel, who's afraid to hurt the reader bc his fangs/powers/strength/etc. So reader has to show him that they're stronger than they look. (Angst/Fluff, optional Smut)

Or Miguel and reader having a secret relationship, but it's hard to keep it that way when he's so desperate for your attention all of the time (Smut, cough semi-public cough)

These are just some ideas, but there's no pressure to answer any of them. Have a good day :)

Might write your other ideas too, ngl...

Slightly more angst whoops.... sorry?

The first time you met Miguel had been a very long time ago.

It was a glance at first. Just a random man visiting the doctor's area of your lab. Perfectly normal.

Then it was a conversation. Then a date. Then a proposal, and before long you were married and happy.

You were originally working on a biological project, which was the spider that made you the Spiderman of your world. And though Miguel was nervous, he was supportive nonetheless.

Unfortunately, like all your counterparts, your unavoidable canon had resulted in Miguel's death, something you never got over. No matter how long passed, your heart felt just as heavy thinking about your husband.

You'd tried just about everything to get him back, even if he wasn't the same.

Experiments, A.I., anything that came to mind. But it was never him.

Maybe it had destroyed you a bit.

Maybe you spent too long torturing yourself in your head, trying to cover any sense of loss with the humor so traditional of a spider.

And maybe, just maybe, you missed him more than you could handle.

It wasn't until you swung face first into an anomaly (literally, a wall had basically materialized in front of you) that your life changed again.

Before you could blink, a man in a dark suit had been tackled to the ground. He was forming stone walls around him, attempting to stand back up.

Judging by the large stature of the man behind him, that wasn't happening.

The suit drew your attention first. It looked weirdly like the one Miguel had helped you make years before. Not the same, but close.

Several other people were with him, each one with different but similar outfits.

"Uhhh should I be fighting you guys, or…?" You questioned, looking over the group. You were prepared for a fight, but they seemed too calm to be villains like those you usually fought.

The tall man looked over to you, nodding to a woman next to him, dressed in all red.

"No, but we owe you an explanation."

And they gave you one, explaining that you weren't really as unique as you thought, but in a much more fulfilling way. You were one of many, many universes out there.

They showed you HQ, a place full of slightly different variations of yourself.

And with that, you had one single question.

Is he out there somewhere too?

After that moment the tour was a blur. Your mind was too caught up in running over the ways to ask if you could find your husband. Even just seeing him from a distance. Anything would do.

"Hey, big guy?"

The man in front of you seemed unimpressed, even in the dim light of his workspace.

"What's the rule on going to see people in other universes? Like, you came to my world so shit wouldn't go sideways if I visited someone, would it?"

It wasn't the first time Miguel had been asked that, of course. They all lost someone, of course they'd ask to see them again. The only issue was breaking the fabric of reality. And the fact that Uncles, Aunts, and anyone else really was dead in most worlds.

"No you cannot see dead loved ones."

His mask faded away, a serious look on his face. "We all have canon events…"

He was talking. You knew he was talking.

But his eyes were so tired.

It had been a long time since you'd seen him, but he looked so much less… alive.

But you'd take any version of alive.

You couldn't hear anything he said. You were too busy studying every feature on his face, watching him carefully.

"Miguel?"

He paused. "We know each other on your Earth?"

"We don't on yours?" You asked with a twinge of sadness in your voice, wishing a parallel you could've been happy with him.

"Uh, yeah, hi, I was planning to step in a little sooner but, uh, whoops."

The flash of a woman floating in the air next to Miguel stopped you. Layla, as Spid- Miguel had introduced her earlier.

"Layla I'm in the mid-"

"Shockingly it's more important than whatever you're saying," she huffed. "In Y/n's world he joined the research team that eventually made the spider that bit him, in Miguel's world Y/n had joined a completely different company. You two didn't meet the same way in your worlds."

"Okay?" Miguel questioned, opening his mouth to continue complaining about Layla interrupting.

"Yeah, but on Y/n's Earth-"

"We're married. You… you saved the lives of a family and died in the process."

You could see his heart break for you. For most people, the shift in expression would be nothing. In fact, it was very well hidden. But you knew him.

And he knew loss more than most. And though he didn't know you, he knew what you felt.

Layla flashed away, leaving the two of you in the low light of Miguel's office.

"I'm sorry."

He was so much more broken than you remembered.

"I got to see you, that's all I wanted." You smiled, looking over his features with a sense of calm you hadn't felt since Miguel's death.

"Would you wanna take another walk? Maybe I could show you around my world." You suggested. You'd be happy just seeing him, you really would. But you'd be even happier spending time with him.

"You understand that-"

"It's not like you'd have to go back to my world forever. And I would've stayed alone there anyway, I doubt I would be wrecking some happy future life, Miguel."

His eyes narrowed. "But you-"

"You don't know me, it's okay. I'm not asking you to do anything. Hell even this is enough for me. Just talking to you, for any length of time"

"You aren't hearing m-"

"Losing you was the worst day of my life." He quieted a bit, letting you speak. "We all have canon events right? I'm sure you understand how much it hurt, then."

You took a breath. This was more overwhelming than you expected it to be, which was saying something.

"You don't know me, Miguel,.and technically I don't know you either. But we got along pretty well in my world? At least consider being my friend?" You asked, a hopeful look on your face as you stared at the much more tired version of your husband.

"Please, Miguel?"

He stared at you a minute, his eyes softer than they were a minute before. He glanced down at your hand before looking back up at your face.

"You should leave, Y/n."

Your hand dropped slowly as you tried not to let your heart break again.

And you listened.

#secret admirer #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x reader #miguel x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv

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yoimix · 2 years

Text

「 botany for dummies 」

TIGHNARI wishes once in a while, and once in a while only, that his ears weren’t so obvious.

the way they perk up at your name, twitch at the sign of your arrival and droop ever so slightly at your departure; tighnari feels uncomfortable. the movements are subtle, barely noticeable even by those closest to him, but they occur beyond his control nonetheless. as a researcher, though he disregards akademiya laws left and right, he believes this goes against his own code of conduct.

even if you are an old friend from sumeru akademiya who he had horrifically repressed feelings for. your refusal to leave him alone is like adding crushed harra fruit to a wound. it’s impossible to have peace of mind with you around.

you help him with the marana despite the rangers’ protests, you pick mushrooms for him to discern as sick or healthy, you bring him lotuses even if he never asked you to. to be honest, he’s flattered you remember his fondness of them. he could get used to this, he thinks to himself often on sunny mornings when you greet him grinning ear to ear. but parting is only inevitable in the flow of life. it’s hard to believe you’ll stay forever in sumeru, by his side in gandharva ville.

tighnari hates you especially when he’s sick. you don’t leave his side, stare at him longer than he can handle, and archons, you don’t need to touch his skin to map his temperature. he doesn’t need taking care of—and he’s not pretending to be strong, he just knows everything to make himself better. you don’t have to go out of your way; it’s incredibly stupid and time-consuming. even if the rainstorms worsen his sleep, even if the heat of day gets under his skin; why would he ever ask you to do anything for him? it feels strange to be taken care of.

tighnari gets up from his bed, still reeling from the sound of thunder. he clutches his head, a part of his senses dulling and heightening from the ringing. his ears bring certain curses.

“whoa there! who told you to get out of bed?”

ah, yes, of course. another curse for his ears had to materialize in front of him. you sit across from him and cross your arms, glaring at him till he sits back down too. it’s good to know the little quirks of your body language haven’t changed since your akademiya days.

“you... you really don’t have to.” he frowns. “this isn’t your job.”

“i know, i know.” you hum, a smile sneaking onto your face. “but it’s time i repaid you for giving me free medicine and... hm, let’s see. lending me your notes, that one time you cured me after i ate a suspicious mushroom and- and letting me tuck my hands into your tail when it was cold, allowing me to pet your ears-”

he coughs loudly, his discontent clear. “you can stop talking once in a while, (name). it’ll benefit everyone around.”

you roll your eyes. “if i didn’t open my big mouth, you would’ve never realized you’re sick. you can thank me now, pighead.”

tighnari makes a face. “you’re also the reason i ingested a poisonous mushroom.”

“that’s unimportant.”

he shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“here,” you say, shuffling through your backpack. “nilotpala lotuses. i was right about your diagnosis!”

“you don’t know that,” he quips. “these lotuses can be used as medicine against a variety of ailments.”

“but these work, don’t they?” your eyes widen, brimming with genuine concern.

“yes.” he responds far too quickly. he can’t help it. “you have to soak them first and then extract the nectar under a presser- not now, (name).”

you sit back down, pouting. “but you need to get better! as fast as you can, tighnari. i don’t like seeing you like this...”

tighnari sighs, eyes closing. “i will. it’s not like one mushroom will have me coughing up blood... at least not this one.”

you bite down your lip and tighnari can’t help but tilt his head to the side, trying to decipher your whole expression.

“tighnari,” you speak up, not looking at him. “we’re friends, right?”

“yes. obviously. do you need official documents stating our friendship?”

tighnari expects a bit of snark from you right back—instead, he is met with your sudden embrace, your breath warming the spot by his neck.

“why did you have to eat the mushroom on my behalf?” you whisper. “i made that bet with the eremites, you know? it was stupid tavern talk.”

it’s not the worst thing you’ve done drunk. however, tighnari steps in each time with no questions asked. he realizes once again how obvious his feelings are and how restrained he is, unable to tell you just so. you’re too dense to understand the language of flowers, so even a gift of a sumeru rose would pass over your head. you’re quite literally the worst person to fall in love with.

tighnari believes time settles everything. then why does he feel so impatient with your actions?

“why did you make that bet, stupid?” he answers, his arms wrapping around you nonetheless.

“well... you know how i’m saving up?”

there’s a pause. are you hesitating?

“i want to... i want to travel.”

tighnari falls silent. he knows you cannot forever be his partner, journeying through the rainforests and surveying nature’s infinite wonders. you’ve expressed a longing for something else. he cannot deny it.

“do you want to leave?” he asks quietly. “i know being a researcher isn’t rewarding enough and... it’s hard to quantify knowledge. but...”

he trails off. there’s a spark of sorrow in his voice.

“i want to see more of the world,” you answer softly. your smile against his shoulder makes his face warm up. it’s not often the head of the forest rangers gets to feel this way. “but i don’t think i want to do it without you.”

his ears twitch before perking up. if you weren’t as observant as a shroomboar, you might have noticed.

“well then, you need to change your habits. don’t go around making bets, or diving onto a mushroom to jump higher, or touching and eating whatever plant you find,” he scolds. “i can tell you which plants are edible. i can teach you how to set up camp. you must listen to every instruction.”

“tighnari?”

“i’m saying, when the forest is healed, we can set out by ourselves.”

the last drop of rain patters outside his door. who knew the cure to a mildly poisonous mushroom would be the embrace of a loved one? perhaps those foreign fairytales you read to him had some meaning to them after all. perhaps the two of you would get to know soon.

(no, alright. that’s not true. he needs those nilotpala lotuses right now before he faints from overheating.)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin scenarios #tighnari x you #tighnari scenarios #genshin imagines #tighnari imagines #genshin headcanons #tighnari headcanons #yoimix.drabble #lost my 50/50 to tighnari but i got mr kreideprinz in the next 20 pulls so i think it's a win-win #i have not fought the dendro boss except for the achievements so hes stuck at 40 #i have no books either #q

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dyketubbo · 5 months

Text

forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart

but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him

and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality

depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession

and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful

if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless

#'the gay sex will make him better' 'the gay sex will make him worse' the gay sex is just another way for him to avoid his problems #ultimately the hope is still there in qtubbo. hes buried it down deep but its in there #let him have some joyous whimsy. the boy is barely serious about his own issues of course hes going to spend the date-#-making stupid minecraft pick up lines and being extremely awkward. what did you expect from him be fr #mask mews #should i count this as an analysis proper. i guesss #amaryllis analyzes #tubbo #fred qsmp #frubbo #qsmp #anyways qtubbo is bpd realness #having an fp doesnt solve all of your problems being in a relationship doesnt solve all of your problems #if anything the tunnel vision from having one is likely to make you ignore all your issues #bc you feel happy so you stop caring about working on yourself #if you even cared in the first place

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skzhua · 1 year

Text

Episode two.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: Painfully obvious hate-flirting, some swearing.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: I changed the first part because it didn't match with the show so I recommend you go reread it if you read it in the first ten hours I posted it.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"What plan?"

You deadpanned at her. "From what I've seen last, you had something with Juliana, no?"

Her body stiffened and her hold on Dae, that was already tight enough, only got firmer. You and Yuri had some sort of forced friendship but it didn't mean you hated each other's guts. It was quite the opposite. She respected you, you respected her – it was a two-way thing. Still, she wouldn't be the kind to involve you in her problems but you weren't stupid. You knew of her and Juliana and this was beyond odd that she was so suddenly in a relationship with Dae.

"It's complicated." she said with a gulp. Seeing that you weren't convinced, she sighed. "I'll explain later, I promise."

She and Dae left and you found yourself alone so you joined Q again and were displeased to see that his friend had not left his side.

"And you're back." he sighed only to earn a glare from Q.

"Min Ho, stop that." You thanked mentally Q for informing you of his name. "Don't mind him, he's in a mood today." he tried to defend him but it clearly didn't work considering you rolled your eyes in a dramatic way.

"Do you want me to help you find your owner, little puppy? I think you're lost." he joked.

"Shove it in your ass, will you?"

Q held his hands up to separate the two of you while you were in a glaring battle. Thankfully, Kitty came back which only seemed to affect Min Ho's mood even more.

"Excuse me." she interrupted you.

"This girl treats Korean guys like Pokémon. She's trying to catch them all." Min Ho complained and you rolled your eyes again. "Not interested." he said to Kitty in a stern voice.

"Get over yourself, I'm looking for Dae." she replied harshly.

Q looked more confused than ever. "Okay, who are you?"

"I'm Kitty Song Covey."

The two men opened their mouths agape as if they suddenly had a revelation.

"You're Kitty?"

Her eyes grew bigger too and she pointed at Q. "Wait, are you Q? Track star, fellow American, heart of gold?"

He nodded happily. "Guilty as charged. I feel like we should hug right now, should we hug?

You weren't understanding a thing about what was going on but you listened nonetheless, curious on how they knew each other.

"Maybe later, I need to find Dae."

You laughed. "Okay, so you two are Dae's friends which is why she knows you and you know her?"

"You are unfortunately right, I think." Min Ho affirmed boringly and then looked at Kitty. "So you're the pen pal?"

She huffed. "If he's Q, then you must be Min Ho... Of course you are."

He shrugged as a smirk appeared on his face. You scoffed too which caught his attention.

"I told you I'm getting stalked."

"Oh, please. You just wish you were."

He came closer to you to hover over your small figure. "You're one feisty puppy, aren't you?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at him in silence, unsure of what you were supposed to say.

"Whatever. Where's Dae?" Kitty said, impatient.

You looked around with her and spotted him with Yuri as they were discussing with Jina. She thanked you and rushed to go to them.

"It's almost sad to see her go after him like that."

You grunted in frustration. "Do you ever shut up?"

Min Ho's smug face appeared once again. "Make me."

"Okay!" Q coughed awkwardly. "That's enough. How about we go meet some people, yeah?"

You heard a yelp from behind and turned around right away as soon as you recognized Kitty's voice.

"Oh, shit." you whispered to yourself and ran to her.

Before you could get to her, she slipped again and fell in the cupcakes. Dae was quick to come to her help but she brushed him off. She did, however, gladly accepted that you helped her get up before leading her outside.

Ending the night comforting someone you barely knew as you waited for the airline to answer her call was not what you had expected. School hadn't even started and, yet, there was already more drama than you could handle.

"Are you sure you want to leave? You said you weren't here just for a boy."

She shook her head. "I can't stay here and see him walk around with her. It's too painful."

"Yuri's my friend, I can talk to her."

"Don't. You're nice but I don't want to cause trouble to the two of you."

The front door of the dorm suddenly opened and went shut seconds later. You were about to get up to see what it was until you heard a voice you'd rather not recognize.

"Spill it!" Min Ho exclaimed. "When did you get with Yuri? And when? And how far?"

"And most importantly, why?" Q added.

"Dae, you little scammer!" Min Ho teased.

You cursed at yourself mentally. You should have guessed you were in the boy dorms as soon as you saw the gym bag in the other room. And to top it all, it had to be where Q, Dae, and Minho were staying.

Kitty joined you at the door to listen but you were already in the process of packing your things up. There was no way you were going to be living with men for an entire semester, even less if it involved Min Ho who had managed to make it to your hate list on your first encounter.

"No one's going to blame you for upgrading from a pen pal to an actual girlfriend." he continued to argue with Dae.

Kitty let out a scoff and her hand went up to her mouth when she realized they must have heard.

"Marius?"

"Good going, Kitty." you whispered to her and you both went to hide under your covers.

You heard them walk in and struggle for a bit to take the blanket off Kitty. They hadn't approached your bed yet. They screamed as they finally managed to get the covers off, revealing Kitty who was screaming as loud as they were. As they all ran outside of the room, you uncovered yourself and then followed behind. They were already in shock from Kitty's presence, yours wouldn't be a surprise at that point.

"Dae's crazy ex-pen pal broke into our dorm to murder us." Min Ho breathed out.

You walked into the living room, arms crossed. "For once, you don't blame it on stalking." you said and they jumped as they saw you, Min Ho holding a laptop up in defense.

Kitty got her file and shoved it to their faces. "This is my room."

"What about you?" Q asked you as he took Kitty's document.

"Same." you shrugged and watched Min Ho put the laptop away.

"You're listed as Song Covey." he said after reading the form.

"So?" Kitty frowned.

"Song can be a guy's name. That's why they assigned you to the guy's dorm." Dae sighed.

"That explains for her but Y/N?" Min Ho asked, eyeing you up and down in disgust.

"It might be because the girl's dorms are full or something, I don't know." you responded, unsure yourself on why you were there.

He took the document himself and read it only to sighed in exasperation. "They did this on purpose! To be closer to Dae, and me."

"And just when I thought you aren't so full of yourself..." you said in a whisper.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He shook his head. "I told you lot, she was hitting me on the plane ride here." He turned to you. "And she hit on me earlier."

"Alright, I'm done here."

You went back to your room and shut the door close. This day was overwhelming enough, all you needed was to sleep. You were going to fix the dorm issue tomorrow.

You woke up to Kitty opening your room's door carefully while she hung up on someone. You got up and tapped on her shoulder, making her almost scream in fear.

"Don't do that again, please." she said after catching her breath.

"You're leaving this morning?"

"Yeah..."

You nodded your head slowly. "I'm glad we met. Have a safe flight."

To your surprise, she hugged you tightly before walking around Dae, who had visibly slept at the door for the night, and went out of the dorm.

You went back to bed and scrolled through your social medias to see what was new. You came upon a video of Yuri's father who was scolding his employees. The next one was the same video but ended with lettuce emojis. You let out a laugh and opened your Kakaotalk.

Y/N: Your dad is going viral.

Yuri: I saw ㅋㅋ

Y/N: Good luck to them for fixing it all.

Yuri: Yeah, it won't be easy.

Yuri: I want to talk, by the way. About last night.

Y/N: You don't have to explain yourself. I'm happy you found someone, whoever it is.

Yuri: Thank you, that means a lot.

You were typing a reply but stopped when you heard someone knocking at your door.

"Kitty." Dae said in a pleading voice. "Me and Yuri, it's not real. It's all fake."

You gasped quietly. Although shocking, it wasn't that surprising considering it involved Yuri.

"Will you just open the door? I can explain everything, Kitty."

You grunted and shoved your pillow over your head. This whole thing had nothing to do with you and, yet, here you were.

"Begging is not a good look."

And he was awake now? Starting your day with your roommate running away, her boyfriend begging to talk with her, Min Ho mocking him... just great.

"I wasn't begging, I was just trying to get my pants." Dae said in defense.

Right, you forgot. This was originally his room.

"Listen, you squatter." Min Ho said, taking over Dae's spot as his voice seemed to be louder than it was seconds ago. "We have to get ready for the first day of school."

You didn't answer, wanting to stay in bed for a bit longer. Plus, if this meant that you were pissing Min Ho off by not opening the door, this was another reason not to do so.

"Don't make us late!" he said impatiently before pounding loudly on the door.

You saw it open by itself and self-noted to remind them that they might want to fix that. Because your bed wasn't directly in their view, they didn't notice you yet.

"And she's gone." Q sighed.

"Sweet."

"Dae, don't worry about it, we'll-"

He stopped talking when he saw that Dae left too. You groaned as you got off the bed which made them turn to face you.

"You're still here?" Min Ho asked dramatically.

"No, I left last night and what you're seeing right now is your imagination."

Q held back a laugh but Min Ho was not having it. "Whatever. I'm making coffee if you want some." he informed and went to the kitchen.

You and Q followed and you leaned on the counter. "Yes, please. I didn't know you were enough of a gentleman to offer me coffee."

He huffed. "This is called basic manners and because I'm not a monster, I could make you a cup."

"So thoughtful, Min Ho."

Q sighed. "This is painful to watch. I'm going to the bathroom real quick."

With that, he went back to his room which meant there was only you and Min Ho in the kitchen. The silence was almost unbearable but the sound of the coffee machine filled it a bit. But not enough to ease the tension.

"I hope you know I still don't want you here."

"Trust me, I don't want to be here either." you agreed.

"Good."

And there it was again, the silence. Q joined you two and the coffee was finally ready. After serving you a cup, Min Ho sat down next to his friend and served him his.

"Have you two seen the news?" you asked and Q shook his head. "You might want to see it."

Min Ho took his laptop that he had previously used to threaten you and opened it for the three of you to watch the infamous lettuce video. You heard the front door open but you were too immersed in watching that you didn't budge.

"Dae, have you seen this video? It's kind of blowing up." Q yelled at to who you supposed was Dae.

"I bet Yuri is loving this drama." Min Ho added.

You hummed in agreement. "She is, for sure."

"I don't particularly care." you heard a voice that was too feminine to be Dae.

Turning around, you smiled. "Kitty!"

Min Ho whined in annoyance. "I thought you left."

"I did!" she nodded. "But then I decided to stay. And not that it's any of your business but this isn't all about a boy."

"Oh, sweetie." Q said as a way to comfort her.

You couldn't blame him, it did look as if she was trying to convince herself it wasn't.

"My mom went here, and, I don't know, being here makes me feel closer to her than I ever have. And-"

Her mood changed in a second and she squinted to look closer at the screen that was still playing the news.

"Dae's on TV?" she exclaimed loudly, confused.

You scooted away to leave her some space, not realizing you were almost fully leaning on Min Ho. He was about to push you away but you faces came close which cut his breath short. You saw his Adam's apple bop as he gulped in nervousness.

"... And, 'lettuce' move on." you heard Dae say which broke you out of your trance.

"Well played." Q chuckled.

"Oh my god." Kitty said out loud and pushed you away to see the screen even closer.

You fell onto Min Ho again and he rolled his eyes while helping you get off him. "Stop trying with me, little puppy."

You wanted to argue back but Kitty spoke before you could say anything. "He's faking it. That's a fake relationship!"

She took a step back and her eyes brightened as if she had discovered the biggest secret on Earth. Meanwhile, you debated whether to confirm her assumption or not. Because Dae literally said it when you woke up, that him and Yuri was a fake show.

Now, it was on you to decide what to do with this information.

taglist: @nanaspalette | @schniti-is-in-the-house | @bakugou-katsukis-wife | @soobin-chois

#xo kitty #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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nicolesainz · 6 months

Text

Darling (JB 22)

Jenson Button x f!reader (Mark Webbers Daughter)

A/N: Ya’ll can blame the Brawn Doc (which btw was great, go check it out)

Summary: A little visit to your dad’s old friend after the Goodwill festival wouldn’t hurt,right?

Warnings: minors dni, +18, suggestive smut, edging, fingering, p! in v!, age gap (reader is 22)

“Hey Jense, would you mind keeping an eye on her? Missus and I will fly back to Australia but she’s staying here for a friend’s party”

My father would’ve never let me stay in a hotel. It had to be Jenson. Out of all his friends, all the people in the fucking UK, it had to be him.

And reminded that I’m 22. Not underage. And I can legally drink, thank you very much.

“Of course mate. I have a spare room she can use. I’ll barely be home this weekend.” It was the British Grand Prix and he is a presenter for Sky Sports, hence why he won’t be around.

To be fair, I only watch the post race show just to admire him. But my dad doesn’t need to know that, or Jenson himself. He doesn’t have to know how handsome he is or how smart he sounds given his knowledge in Formula One.

What’s more attractive than that?

And the fact that I have secret screenshots of his shots in my phone, but again, no one needs to know.

“Let me get her luggage full of god knows what type of dresses. I don’t even know when she bought them!”

"I hope you know how old I am, dad" I roll my eyes at his comment as Jenson lets out a small giggle, earning a death glare from my dad.

"Before she leaves the house, please make sure to see what she's wearing. And if there are any boys in sight." my dad warns him, as if I am going to enroll myself in the army and fight the enemy, which to him, would've been more preferable compared to a party.

"Got it. We definitely know that you think she's 17" Jenson replies and my mother laughs along, as I try not to burst out.

"If you side with Y/N, I will break your Porche." My dad's voice raise and I glance at Jenson who has a look plastered on his face as if he was offended and scared by the threat.

"I have kids myself, I think she's going to be safe with me. Come on Mark! I was the only driver you never crashed with, kinda." He takes the luggage away from my mother's hands and waves them goodbye as I go and hug them.

"Take care kiddo and if you need anything, im a call away. Also if you want to go to the paddock, the passes are under my name" he kisses my head after having me squeezed in a tight hug.

"Y-yes dad, I know. Now please let me go because I cant breathe."

"Sorry" he sets me free and I join Jenson's side. God he's tall and broad.

"Alright now, shall we?" he looks down at me and I nod, unable to utter a single word, even though I've know him my whole life.

The boys in my university were dying to hear stories with the senior formula one drivers, coming from a daughter of one. It's a nice feeling to narrate all the success and glory of this sport.

"Seriously though, your bag is very light. Are you even carrying anything in here?" Jenson asks, weighing up and down my luggage, flexing his muscles as I try not to drool all over the place.

"Only necessities. Dresses, shoes, makeup, few outfits for the race and condoms." the last one quite shocked him but also was a way of teasing him, given my major crush.

"You have condoms, yet I didn't hear you say panties"

"Won't be needing any"

"And why is that, may I ask?"

"Cause I like to be free. More access and more fun" I wink at him and I stare at his lips, a smirk is growing as each word is leaving mine.

"So you are telling me, that right now, underneath this short but nonetheless breathtaking dress, no panties are worn?"

I get closer to him and whisper softly in his ear:

"Wanna see for yourself?"

Honestly, don't ask me where I found this much confidence and especially with someone twice my age. And a friend of my dad's.

"Behave yourself darling" he coughs lightly to clear his throat and grabs me by the waist, so my dress doesn't float from the summer breeze.

"And what if I don't want you, Mr. Button?"

"Then you'll wish you had never said that" he growls and immediately opens me the door to his McLaren.

When he gets in the drivers seat, he wastes no time and gets on the road instantly. During the ride, there's a comfortable silence filling the atmosphere, until the air coming out of Jenson's window pulls up my dress and his hand quickly falls on my thigh, holding it down once more.

Jenson decides to roll up his window but his hand remains on my thigh and this time, is holding it firmly and starts caressing it from the inside.

Soft sighs leave my mouth, but controlling them is inevitable when his touch was all I have been craving since I turned 18. His foot hits the gas harder, speeding and driving in between the other slower cars. He reminds me of the Jenson back in his Brawn days and I can feel myself pooling just at the thought.

It was the very right time when his hand cupped my bare pussy, feeling the wetness caused by barely a thought of him. The slight touch of his fingers on my trembling self has my knees going paralyzed. I feel like crying from pleasure and yet I don't even know if he's doing that on purpose to embarrass me or if he's actually enjoying it too.

"Oh baby, you're definitely not behaving yourself" he says as his index finger draws circles around my clit. My legs are clenching his hand inside me as the other one holds the steering wheel, looking at his knuckles that have turned white.

"Jenson" I breathe out and moan simultaneously as he starts pumping two fingers inside me fiercely, letting myself to his mercy and unable to react.

"This behavior will have consequences young lady. I warned you" he lets a soft kiss on the crock of my neck and feeling his beard scratching it, I go absolutely insane.

"Then punish me sir" I blurt out without thinking and Jenson drives in seconds at the spot in front of his house, stops the car and places me on top of his lap with just one hand.

Jenson's lips crash into mine without wasting a second as his fingers play with my uncontrollably wet pussy. The feeling of moaning is surely necessary and I don't hold back. My tongue dances with his and the kiss gets deeper like his fingers, hitting perfectly my soft spot.

"You are going to be the death of me" Jenson says as his mouth falls on my neck, sucking it off like there's no tomorrow. My hands try to unbuckle his belt and eventually make it to the part where I can feel his erection growing. It's true what they say, older men do it better.

In other instances I would have been furious, but Jenson ripping my dress, just so he can have better access at my breasts is incredibly hot. I don't care that I am left vulnerable at his sight. At this I was pleading it.

My breast hurt from his kisses and I know in a few hours small red dickies will be covering the surface. My fingers decide to trace the shape of his thick cock but I can tell he wants to feel me. I have teased him and he me, for way too long.

"If you keep being naughty I won't let you cum, dear" a groan escapes his body as I take his length in my hands and caress the veins that have popped out.

"Then I want you to fill me up with your cum" I take him by surprise and I can sense his heartbeat raising from worry. He regards me as something innocent, precious and fragile. Which I am. But I feel ready and I am.

"Are you sure? I mean, have you? Uh? Had sex before?"

"I-uh-well, no. But-"

"Baby we can't do it here. You don't deserve to have your first time on a car. You deserve to be worshipped."

Jenson's words make me blush and my heart was flattering as if I was a fifteen years old again, simply watching him race and get multiple podiums.

He looks around and opens the door of his house and then quickly rushes with me inside and shuts it with such force, my legs started trembling.

Suddenly, he picks me up and carries me all the way to his bedroom. A dark room filled with some of his most iconic trophies and with his smell that has been covering my entire body since the moment I entered his car.

He turns on the soft baby lights on the bedrest and takes a look at my flushed self, covered with hickies he's gifted me. His eyes scan me from head to toe as if he's about to feast.

"I want you to tell me to stop whenever you feel uncomfortable in any way." He kisses me softly and I nod my head, knowing that he would never hurt anyone.

Jenson stands up and with his strong arms parts my legs so he can have a clear vision of my already swollen womanhood. My breast are half showing from inside my bra and my lips are bitten to the core. I am a mess but he seems to like it.

He removes his shirt in quick motions revealing his god like crafted body with the hints of dark ink covering his lower v and shoulder. I had never seen them before and I am was very pleased with what was in front of my eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to strip off his trousers and be left with simply his boxers that were trying to hold in his hardened cock and my patience as well. They were giving me a preview of what was about to happen.

As Jenson lowered his body his hands were hoisting down his boxers, revealing himself and it wasn't just my mouth that was drooling but also my pussy.

His hands now were on the insides of my thighs, holding them fiercely, whilst mine were hanging around his neck. I felt like my heart was about t burst out of my chest.

"Are you ready baby?"

I was at loss for words so I gave him a final kiss for reassurance that he could continue.

In slow motions, he lowered even more and started inserting himself inside me, pumping slowly as I was trying to get used to his size. My cries were out of control as Jenson was deepening himself and my pussy was stretched to its limits.

"Jesus, you're clenching me so well darling" he breathed out and I tried to open my legs wider for his pleasure. Jenson was panting on the hem of my neck and upping the pace of his thrusts.

"Dear lord this feels so good" It feels better than good. As if I am in the seventh heaven. I don't think any man will ever make me experience this. And I don't think I want to either.

"Say that again" he demands with a harder thrust, hitting my G-spot, earning the biggest moan of the night, echoing at the entire house.

"You make me feel so damn good Jenson" I gulp hard as I try to catch my breath and scratch his back from the pain that this gives me.

"And I shall be the only one darling" he hoists me up and removes my bra with a single movement, freeing my breasts and enjoying the sight, as they are bouncing up and down along with the trusts.

"Only you Jenson" I scream his name as loud as I can and his chest fills with pride as I am reaching my height.

"Cum sweetheart. Let go" I can't hold it in much longer and I cum all over his cock. He doesn't remove himself from inside me and I don't want to. This felt so right even though for some it's very wrong.

"That was, perfect" I say in a whispering manner as I am unable to speak louder. I am so wasted but full of thrill.

"You deserve it. You deserve to be treated like that dear"

#jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #fanfic writing #f1 drivers

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lost-in-lamentation · 8 months

Text

🎡💋🌃 - first date, first kiss, midnight.

lucifer × gen!reader. fluff. no warnings.

content: the first of many things, and lucifer's feelings towards it all.

back to the 500 follower event: here.

when lucifer begins to fall in love, he denies it with every fibre of his being. the eldest of the seven avatars of sin has no time to deal with such a trifling matter; and yet, inviting you out to accompany him on his outings has his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. for the first time in years, lucifer is reminded how it feels to be so nervous. the notion makes him feel ridiculous, how when you walk by him, gentle smile and all, his palms become clammy under his gloves. his breath hitches in his throat when you reply to him from afar, lucifer’s own name suddenly able to cause his cheeks to flush.

the relief he feels when you say yes is akin to the relief he feels when mammon manages to stop beel from raiding the fridge. the tension in his shoulders falls away from him, and lucifer is too busy trying to hold his expression together to see your own face become rosy. he parts ways with you there, telling you he’ll come find you in your room later. as you turn around, lucifer releases a held breath, hand closing on the fabric that covers his heart. he thinks to himself that the worst of the night is over, but to his dismay, the stress has just begun.

it starts with the restaurant. everything had been going well, until the waiters put a plate of food that is nearly poisonous to a human in front of you. “take this away from them.” lucifer, observant as ever, is quick to swipe it away and shove it back to the workers, but not before you have a coughing fit that has you doubling over. the demon is by your side in an instant, rubbing up and down your back soothingly while murmuring his apologies. he keeps his hand on your back even after you’ve recovered, fingers curling into your clothing ever so slightly in worry. his touch is light, but you feel it nonetheless. lucifer bends down, kneeling close enough that he feels the warmth from your skin on his. “are you alright?” he does his best to suppress the tremble in his voice, his fears of seeing you sick or hurt far greater than he could imagine.

thankfully, you reply “i’m okay,” and lucifer quickly relaxes. but the moment is short; he stiffens up when you reach to brush his bangs away from his temple. you pretend not to notice the sharp inhale, instead letting your hand fall away from his face. “i’m not really hungry enough for dinner anymore though.”

“you’ll need to eat something eventually.” lucifer understands your hesitance, and offers another way out. “why don’t we go to that café you’ve been eyeing recently?”

the next thing to go wrong is, of course, the café. not far from closing hours, the café is mostly wiped clean of all baked goods, leaving only drinks for your choices. lucifer curses at his incompetence, pointedly ignoring that he only forgets to think about these things when you’re with him. with a sigh, he gives you a nearly defeated look. "i may have made a few errors in my calculations for tonight." lucifer waits for you to mirror the disappointment on his face, jaw tight in fearful anticipation.

but you look at him softly, and his anxiety ebbs away. "that doesn't matter. let's just grab some drinks and head out of here, hm?"

lucifer takes your hand, entwining your fingers with such care that you feel warmth spreading from the pads of your fingers to your chest. with your drinks in hand, lucifer tugs you away from the crowds on the main streets. the noise begins to fade, replaced by the tune the breeze sings as you walk on. your shared silence with lucifer is comfortable, and he never once lets you go along the way.

eventually, you reach the top of the viewpoint, and you break away from his grasp to hold onto the railing as you lean over it. “it’s always so nice late at night here, there’s never anyone else,” you breathe out, reaching out with a hand as the wind ruffles your hair ever so lightly.

“don’t lean so far forward.” lucifer shifts closer to you. and he can’t help but watch the city lights reflecting in your eyes. “now that you mention it, it is quite late.”

you slip your d.d.d. out, checking the time before pocketing it again. “just short of midnight.”

sighing, lucifer turns his gaze to the city just as you did. “a shame. a new day means i no longer have you to myself.”

your mouth opens in awe, surprised that the eldest brother can occasionally sound so childish. “don’t want to end it here?”

“perhaps i wouldn’t mind the day ending if today had been successful,” he whispers, voice low.

“well, i thought this was a really nice first date.”

lucifer can’t tell if his heart has stopped, or if it has just skipped a few beats. “first date?” he chokes the words out, confusion now scrawled across his expression.

“isn’t that what this is?” your innocence has his self control tearing at the seams. “sorry, if i got it wrong. i just- thought that it was. i mean, you even held my hand the whole way here-”

the thread holding lucifer back snaps. his hands find their rightful place just under your jaw, cupping your face gently as he takes his claim on your lips. you respond instantaneously, your own hands sliding up his torso to rest on his shoulders. his heart beats in tandem with yours, a slow and strong rhythm, fitting of his growing love for you. you only pull away when your lungs begin burning, but as you do, you feel another part of you begging for more. lucifer moves one of his hands up, brushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead before pressing his lips to yours again. you aren’t sure how long he holds you there, too lost in how lucifer has captivated you entirely. he acts with the same intensity he always has, passion and heat devouring you as he pulls you in.

lucifer finally releases you moments later, staring down at you with an expression you could only call lovesick. you’re caught in his gaze, adoration bubbling up inside you. “so it was a first date,” you say, nearly gasping for air.

“if you say so,” lucifer rumbles, tugging you into his chest as he sets his chin atop your head.

you sigh in content, taking in the moment before you feel your d.d.d. buzzing in your pocket. you shift around in lucifer’s hold just enough to slide it out, swiping away notifications when you notice the time. “it’s midnight now.”

lucifer peers at your screen. “a perfect way to start the day, wouldn’t you agree?”

a laugh rings out into the open, echoing your joy. “would you count today or yesterday as our anniversary?” you tease the question, stifling a giggle as you ask,

“no need for an anniversary. everyday is special with you,” he hums, pressing another kiss to the crown of your head.

when lucifer falls in love, he accepts it with every fibre of his being. although spare time is limited for the eldest of seven avatars, he will always carve out time in his schedule for you. for once, lucifer finds music in the wind and magic in the mundane. for once, lucifer feels like he can hold the sky in his hands. and for the first time in a long time, lucifer feels like life isn’t long enough.

a/n: idk? i'm so satisfied with this and also not at all but hey, we take what we can get. Oh, and anon who requested this one, welcome to tumblr!! thank you for dropping by ♡♡

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x you #obey me fluff #aris writes 🐈‍⬛#aris hits 500 🐈‍⬛

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Long time lurker here. I love your stuff, it’s just so warm and comforting!! Was wondering if you could maybe do a fic about someone getting sick and being a bit over dramatic about it, and her caretaker isn’t taking her seriously, is being sarcastic, is poking fun at them, etc… until she actually takes her temperature and realize she has way more than a little cold. I’m not picky about the characters, so please do whoever you feel is best suited if you choose to do this prompt!! -💕

Dead On Your Feet

〖Notes: It's wonderful to hear from you! I chose Natasha as our caretaker, I hope you love it ♡ 〗

〖Summary: Maybe if you had been less dramatic she would've believed you.〗

〖Word Count: 1450 〗

〖Pairing: natasha x reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m dying.” You announced, dropping your chin onto Natasha’s shoulder. She rolled her eyes in the mirror and smirked, giving you a look that clearly said that she didn’t believe you.

“I’m sure you are my dear. What kind of flowers would you like at your funeral?” She joked, applying sunscreen to her pale cheeks. The woman could go outside on a cloudy day and come back in with a raging sunburn. Her skincare routine always included sunscreen, even on days when she would only be outside for a few minutes.

“Natty, I’m serious, I really don’t feel good.” You pouted, sniffling pathetically. She just sighed and turned, smearing a bit of sunscreen on your nose. You scrunched up your face in protest and pawed at your reddening nose.

“You can’t get out of a run that easily. Go get changed, we’re leaving in ten.” Damnit. The run. She had been pestering you to go on a run with her for weeks now and you had finally agreed just to get her off of your back.

The only time you ran was when you were forced into it by Cap or Tony for ‘team bonding’. How a bunch of sweaty superheroes torturing their bodies counted as ‘bonding’ you had no idea.

Of course, she didn’t believe you, she thought that you were just trying to get out of what would probably end up being a five-mile run. With a quiet sigh and a rough cough, you went back into the bedroom and pulled out leggings and a T-shirt, mentally preparing yourself for something that you really didn't want to do.

You trudged outside where you found Nat waiting for you by the trails, stretching the muscles in her legs in preparation. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a wide grin on her face. Her expression melted your heart and made you feel slightly guilty.

All that you wanted to do was make this woman happy and on any other day you would’ve felt even a little bit excited to do this with her upon seeing her so full of joy. Today though you were breathing hard after the short walk, your lungs ordering you to sit the hell down and take some medicine.

Your head had begun to swim, the beginnings of a fever making itself known. What had started as mild congestion had turned into a constantly runny nose that no amount of sniffling helped to clear. You sniffled nonetheless, unwilling to just let it drip.

“Ready to do this?” She asked, reaching over to squeeze your hand. You squeezed back, but you weren’t sure what to say. You were definitely not ready to do this, but refusing seemed sort of mean.

You opened your mouth to respond, but what came out was a fit of chest-rattling coughs that bent you at the waist. The assassin rested a hand on your back while you coughed, but she didn’t seem to think that the fit was a huge deal.

“Wow, you’re really milking it, huh?” She grumbled once you’d straightened up, one eyebrow raised in mild annoyance. You felt your cheeks flush, but you were beginning to get frustrated.

“I'm not milking anything, could we just get this over with?” You growled in return, your voice husky and weak. Natasha said something under her breath in Russian and turned away to start running down the trail. You huffed and followed her, breaking into a slow jog.

Keeping up with her proved absolutely impossible. Even on a good day, she was fast and you were decidedly not. That fact was made worse by what was definitely a developing fever and the congestion filling your sinuses. There was no breathing through your nose anymore, just harsh wheezing through your mouth, each breath grating against your raw throat.

The two of you had been running for about ten minutes before you had to stop, your body crying out as it begged you to rest. You slowed to a walk and stumbled into a tree, beginning to cough heavily into your elbow.

It wasn’t the kind of cough that one got with a tickle in their throat, no it was harsh, wet, and completely exhausting. It shook your bones and made your head spin. You took a gasping breath, your lungs finally relaxing.

Natasha was standing a few feet ahead, her posture tense and her bright emerald eyes were full of concern. She took a few hesitant steps toward you, but you waved her off, still annoyed with her lack of care earlier.

“I told you I didn’t feel well.” You snarked your voice barely a rasp. She looked a bit butthurt at that comment but didn’t let that get the best of her. Without a word the assassin stalked over to you and pressed the palm of her hand against your forehead, her eyes widening at whatever she felt there.

“Holy shit.” She breathed, her expression melting into one of pure worry. She cupped your cheeks between calloused hands and brushed away a tear that had escaped your eye during the coughing fit.

You wanted to make another snarky comment but the telltale prickle in your sinuses force you to turn away so that you could sneeze (three fucking times) into your elbow. When you looked back up your eyes were full of even more tears and your nose was running. There wasn’t a dry spot left on your sleeve and your nose was still drippy after wiping it.

Natasha stuffed a hand into her pocket and produced a napkin. You went to take it from her but she proceeded to clean you up, muttering under her breath about how stupid she was. When she pulled away she stuffed the gross napkin back into her pocket, offering you a gentle smile.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have dragged you out here today.” She apologized, her voice riddled with guilt. You sniffled tiredly and shrugged, too tired to care anymore. All you wanted was to go home, but the idea of making your way back home made you feel even worse.

“Should’ve just ignored you and gone back to sleep.” She chuckled quietly and kissed your warm forehead, grimacing slightly at the heat radiating from you. She was absolutely horrified with herself for not listening to you and was sure that later she would be beating herself up instead of sleeping, but for now, she needed to help you.

“Can I carry you?” Wait, was she being serious? Did she want to carry you? You had no doubt that she could do it, but you were surprised that it was being offered. The shock on your face must’ve been evident because she had that look on her face that said you were gaping at her like an idiot.

“You look dead on your feet, let me give you a piggyback. I won’t tell anyone.” The redhead teased gently, bringing her typical humor to what could be considered a heavy situation. You sniffled and rubbed your bleary eyes, muffling another quiet cough into your shoulder.

“Whatever you want. I can walk.” Natasha spun around and you clambered up onto her back, feeling a bit childish and silly. Then you realized that you just didn’t have the energy to care. You wrapped your arms around her neck and put your head down on her shoulder, your eyes slipping closed almost immediately.

When you emerged from your dream of floating in the ocean, staring at a sky full of stars, you were no longer on Natasha’s back, instead, you were laying in a soft bed, wearing totally different clothes, and there was a cool cloth resting against your forehead.

Natasha lay beside you, her fingers tangled up in your hair as she very gently pulled her nails against your scalp in a way that always soothed you to sleep. A smile slid onto your lips and you shifted slightly, turning so that you could get closer to your beautiful girlfriend.

“You awake?” She murmured, keeping her voice low just in case you were still sleeping.

“Nope.” You replied, muffling a cough into the blanket. Natasha hummed and readjusted the cloth on your forehead, smiling as you sighed in pleasure. It was cool and it felt so, so nice.

“Alright, baby. When you wake up we’ll get you something to eat.” You made an incoherent sound in response, but she decided to assume that it meant okay. She would be right of course, you would do anything for the woman who you loved and you knew that she would do anything for you. Overall, dying wasn’t so bad.

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amralimeee · 6 days

Text

My Everything

Summary: You're Bruce Wayne's wife and a plus-size model. Tonight, you are attending a Wayne Charity Gala that you tenaciously put together! Bruce can't seem to take his eyes off you, and it's apparent that other affluent guests are equally captivated by you.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Plus Size Female Reader.

Warnings: Minors DNI! Fluff, and smut towards the end.

Word Count: 3,627

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's probably going to be my last. I much prefer writing fluff. Nonetheless, enjoy! x

Life as a plus-size model and being Bruce Wayne's wife often presented unique challenges. This year, you dedicated yourself to your modeling commitments for the Winter Season while actively participating in the meticulous planning and arrangements for the prestigious end-of-the-year Wayne Charity Gala. Balancing these roles was undeniably taxing, but the anticipation of quality time with your husband, free from his responsibilities as Batman, made it all worthwhile.

After flawlessly applying your makeup, your stylist carefully guided you in putting on the stunning dress while you were blindfolded. You eagerly anticipated the first glimpse of the dress, specifically chosen and tailored just for you.

"Okay, love," Salah exclaimed excitedly, "you can open your eyes now."

You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, and your mouth fell open in astonishment. The stunning silk dress draped in a luxurious emerald green hue was sleeveless, allowing the delicate stretch marks on your shoulders to peek through, a part of your beauty that you cherished and never concealed with makeup. The dress elegantly cinched at your waist, enhancing your figure and accentuating your bosom. With a playful and confident air, you kicked your leg forward through the intricate slit of the dress.

"Salah, you have outdone yourself once again," you said with genuine admiration. "Your talent is truly unparalleled."

You turned around to inspect the dress from behind.

"I don't recall seeing this exquisite piece on the runway this season. Am I the lucky one to be adorned in your remarkable prototype?"

"That's because it wasn't on the runway," Salah added. "And not a prototype."

You turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Who designed it, then?" You inquired.

"Your husband did."

"What?"

"A few months ago, he requested a custom-designed dress exclusively for you. I brought his vision to life."

A warm and tender sensation filled your heart.

"And," Salah began, " that's not the only thing he chose." His tone was mischievous.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"He chose that sexy lace set you're wearing underneath." he grinned. "He's so going to unwrap you after the gala."

You coughed softly and forced a smile, hoping to conceal the hint of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

—

Bruce had just finished getting ready at his office after several lengthy meetings at Wayne Enterprises and made his way to the manor to pick you up. He couldn't help but think about the elegant dress he had carefully selected for you. Knowing it was from your favorite designer and good friend made him hope you would love it as much as he did.

He dispatched final instructions to Dick, Jason, and Damian. They had been tasked with patrolling the city until his return from the charity event.

Just take the entire night off, old man, Dick replied.

As he was getting ready to reply, he heard the door upstairs close. He instinctively slid his phone into his pocket and made his way to the base of the staircase, where the ornate wooden railing wound up to the upper floor.

Bruce found himself in rapt fascination as he watched you come down. Your gown was a work of art, embracing every curve of your figure with an effortless grace that demanded attention. A surge of longing coursed through him as he took in the sight of you.

Extending his hand, he met you at the final step, his touch both supportive and filled with quiet intensity as he assisted you.

Bruce's breath caught in his throat as he beheld you.

"Wow, you are breathtaking," he stammered, his voice betraying his unsteady awe at the sight of you.

You smiled mysteriously as you gracefully walked away from him, and then, with a slow and deliberate twirl, you revealed every inch of yourself, captivating his attention.

"I hope this dress meets your approval, Mr. Wayne." Your voice was sultry and seductive, causing a surge of arousal in Bruce.

"It more than meets my approval. You look positively stunning," he said earnestly, unable to take his eyes off you.

He gently drew you close, pulling you towards him with a soft yet firm touch. His hands found their place on your waist as you responded by tenderly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the reassuring strength in his embrace.

As he leaned in closer, his warm and tender lips made contact with your bare, delicately exposed shoulder, leaving a trail of gentle, affectionate kisses.

He whispered in your ear, "What you're wearing underneath is for my eyes only," his breath ghosting across your skin, "a treasure that belongs solely to me."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you experienced a momentary pause. Bruce's possessive nature emanated from a profound depth of affection, conveying a wholesome desire to protect and adore you.

He stepped back, gazing into your eyes with a tender intensity.

"But I'm not entirely selfish," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I want the entire world to be captivated by the extraordinary beauty you possess," he confessed, his words lingering in the air. "But always remember, you belong to me, now and for all eternity." With a gentle yet firm grip on your waist, he drew you closer, his touch conveying both possession and adoration. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours. It was a kiss filled with passion and longing that conveyed all the emotions that Bruce had felt since he first laid eyes on you at the Art Gallery. And as you both pulled away, your eyes sparkled with adoration, your love for him evident in every gesture.

But your love for each other was not without its challenges. Your marriage was unconventional, but it didn't matter to either of you. Bruce had to balance his responsibilities as Batman and as your husband constantly. He tried to keep you at arm's length, afraid of putting you in danger, but you refused to back down. You were determined to stand by his side, no matter what, even if it meant sharing him with life as the Caped Crusader.

But you couldn't deny that the dual life made things complicated. Whenever Gotham was threatened and needed Batman's attention, he had to leave abruptly, leaving you worried and alone. You also spent countless nights alone, only seeing him in the mornings. But you never complained. You understood the importance of Bruce's mission and always remained supportive.

Each time Bruce laid eyes on you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving behind a singular focus on you. In those rare, cherished moments, he had the opportunity to give you his undivided attention, and it was as if he was experiencing the exhilaration of falling in love with you all over again.

"Something on your mind?" You asked him because you noticed that he was lost in thought.

Bruce shook away from his reveries.

"You," Bruce replied. "And how badly I want to explore every inch of your body and show you how much you mean to me," he said in a low and husky voice.

You blushed and smiled shyly at him.

"I'll be patient, Mrs. Wayne." He looked at you and smirked as if reveling in your obvious flushed face.

Bruce couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both made your way to the car.

—

When you arrived, a relentless barrage of camera flashes greeted you. Bruce appeared at the door, extending a supportive hand to help you up and guiding you towards him. His touch was gentle yet protective as his hand settled on your waist. He made it his mission to shield you from any potential dangers, including the relentless intrusion of the paparazzi.

"Can we get photos of you both individually?" One of the photographers yelled.

Bruce got out of the way to let your photo get taken.

You struck a pose, your hand on your hip and your head held high, exuding elegance and grace. The photographer snapped away, capturing every angle. Your smile was radiant, and it was evident that you were genuinely enjoying yourself. As you gazed out into the crowd, you could see the positive reactions from those around you. People were clapping and cheering, admiring your beauty and confidence.

The photographer asked for a few more poses, and you happily obliged.

You shifted your gaze to Bruce and found him looking at you with an affectionate expression, a loving gleam in his eyes, and a gentle smile gracing his face. He had a tad look of mischief, likely undressing you in his mind. You returned the smile.

"Now you, Bruce!" One photographer yelled, interrupting the moment you were both sharing.

"Not tonight," Bruce answered and walked away with you.

Bruce kissed your forehead and wished you luck before leaving you to do your own thing while he mingled with the partners of Wayne Enterprises.

The night progressed with a series of speeches by prominent artists. When it was time for you to speak, your words echoed through the hushed hall, reminding everyone present why they were there: to give foster children a chance at a better life. The funds would go to build an independent living facility for children, particularly teenagers who could not find placements. You shared your experience as a former foster child who aged out of the system, and you vowed to change that reality for other foster kids.

The crowd responded with a chorus of applause. Bruce cheered you on and felt immense pride for all the hard work you had done.

The sophisticated guests wandered through the carefully curated art gallery, sipping fine champagne and other exquisite, high-priced liquors. As you contemplated a potential art addition to your office, your attention was drawn to a group of impeccably dressed women whispering and giggling, their envious eyes fixed on you. Feeling a pang of annoyance, you rolled your eyes and massaged your temples as their conversation reached your ears. It seemed like these events always managed to attract the same types of people: the typical wealthy individuals who generously spent money for a good cause to make themselves feel good, the ones who came with the mission to find any gossip, and those who murmured opinions on how you were an unlikely match for Bruce.

"Excuse me," you said in a warm tone and gave them a friendly smile, trying not to disrupt the moment. I couldn't help but notice that all of you have been staring at me." You uttered these words cautiously, in case someone discreetly captured the moment with their camera.

The women looked at each other, caught off guard by your courage to confront them.

"Oh, we couldn't help but notice your gorgeous dress. May I ask where you found it?" one of the women inquired, attempting to divert from their earlier discussion.

You let out a light chuckle, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you realize they are being untruthful. "Thank you for your kind words," you respond, unable to resist mentioning, "but I overheard your conversation."

The women's eyes darted anxiously, repeatedly adjusting their position to avoid meeting your gaze and showing unease.

"I couldn't help but overhear you discussing my husband, Bruce Wayne, and speculating about why he chose to be with someone like me," you said in a composed and collected tone, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The women were visibly shocked by your unexpected confrontation. Their eyes widened, and their expressions turned to disbelief. They stood there, motionless, struggling to find the right words.

"I'm flattered…" you began.

The women gazed at each other, their brows furrowed in confusion as they exchanged perplexed looks, trying to make sense of the situation.

"You purchased a $15,000 ticket to this charity event, but instead of supporting the cause, you made my appearance the topic of conversation," you said calmly.

One of the women cleared her throat. As they sipped their drinks, a flush of crimson spread across their faces, betraying their unease.

Bruce's strong, comforting arm encircled your waist, and as he leaned down, you felt the warmth of his lips as he placed a tender and affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Ladies," he remarked with a warm smile. "You all look lovely."

"Thank you", the women said shyly.

"What were you all talking about, if I may?" Bruce asked.

"Love," you began. "The ladies were curious to know why you married me."

Bruce's eyes met yours with a deep, enamored gaze.

"Yes, she is undeniably beautiful, and she's currently the most sought-after model," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "But my wife, she's not just outwardly stunning. Her compassionate nature, selflessness, and genuine care for others demonstrate that she possesses a heart that is truly pure and kind. She's an extraordinary mother to our children. I feel truly understood and seen for who I am in her presence."

You gazed at Bruce for a long moment, your expression tender.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world." He leaned to press his lips against yours.

"Mr. Wayne," someone from afar called him.

"Excuse me, ladies." He turned to look at them. "Please enjoy the rest of your night."

Once Bruce reached a far distance, they turned to look at you.

One of the women cleared her throat nervously before speaking with a shaky voice to apologize to you.

"Me too." The second woman said.

"So am I," the other one said.

"If your apology is sincere, I will accept it as cash, credit, or check." You smiled and kept your tone neutral.

Ordinarily, you wouldn't have directly addressed the situation. With age and experience, you worked diligently to develop self-love and gratitude for your body, so the pressures of society and critical gazes lost their significance eons ago. But you felt playful tonight, so you decided to leverage fatphobia to benefit the charity.

—

The elegant gala was winding down, with most guests having departed. Bruce found himself at the bustling bar, conversing with a group of enthusiastic investors who had pledged generous donations to the charity.

Bruce excused himself from the gathering and found a quiet, secluded area. He reached for his phone and found a message from Dick:

We're all fine. Goons being goons. Take the damn night, old man. Seriously.

Just as he was about to send a message, the murmur of the investors nearby caught his attention. Their conversation revealed their admiring remarks about your enchanting allure, casting a shadow of unease over Bruce's thoughts.

"How long do you give it until they split?" One said.

"Trust fund kid turned CEO with a model?" one man quipped. "I give it two years at most."

"I can already imagine the tabloid headlines."

They laughed.

"I call dibs."

Bruce's ears twitched. A flicker of anger crossed his face before he schooled his expression into one of haughty indifference.

"Hey darling," you uttered sweetly and sat next to him.

Bruce maintained his silence, offering no words in response.

"Bruce," you asked, your voice tinged with worry. "Are our sons okay? Did something happen to them?"

Bruce's unease dissipated as he gazed into your widened eyes, which had been filled with concern. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt for causing you distress.

"No, the boys are fine."

He carefully observed the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Then what's wrong?" You asked again.

"I'm..." he hesitated. "I'm jealous."

"What of?" you asked.

"You see those men over there at the bar?"

You nodded.

"Your presence tonight set their tongues wagging."

You chuckled. Your laughter was a sweet melody to Bruce's ears.

"I belong to you, my love." You said. "And I always will."

He gently took your hand and led you away from the crowd and into a private space, away from prying eyes and ears.

"You're intoxicating," his eyes smoldering with desire and a hint of possessiveness. "I can't bear the thought of you belonging to anyone but me."

You smiled, your gaze locking with his. You caressed his face, savoring the fiery moment.

"I'm terrified of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I constantly feel guilt and fear that I'm holding you back from a life of normalcy, perhaps with another man."

You were fully attentive while Bruce shared his thoughts, never interrupting him. It had taken him a long time to be vulnerable with you. Your unwavering resolve since the beginning gradually chipped away at his defenses. The once stoic, reserved man of few words, shrouded in an aura of melancholy and enigma, let his facade crumble until you saw the man behind the mask. You had become a balm to his wounds.

"Bruce," the soft hum of his name escaped your lips as you gently reached out to hold his hand. "We are anything but ordinary, and that's what I adore about us. I don't crave a conventional relationship. I want you."

Enveloping him in your embrace, your love acted as a guiding light, casting out the lingering shadows that plagued his soul.

He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's go home," he said.

_______

You and Bruce retreated to the privacy of the opulent Wayne Manor. As you gracefully slipped out of the designer gown, revealing your ample body, Bruce's gaze lingered on you with unabashed desire.

You made your way to him, sat on his lap, and helped remove his tie.

"you're stunning," Bruce breathed.

His hands explored every dip and curve with a reverence that made you feel worshiped.

He marveled at the feeling of your softness against his firm touch, the contrast between you igniting a fire within him.

"As much as I love this lingerie on you, I think it would look even better on the floor," Bruce whispered in your ear.

With a flick of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall open and reveal your breasts. He ran his hands over them, feeling the softness of your flesh, and then leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he teased your nipple with his tongue.

You reached down and started to undo his pants, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. You stroked it gently, feeling it twitch in your hand as he moaned with pleasure.

You kissed Bruce, his lips soft and gentle against yours. He could feel your body responding to his touch as your breath became increasingly ragged. He felt the heat between you two building, and he broke the kiss to look into your eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he reminds you again.

Then he lays you back gently, and you look up at him with desire. You help him unbutton his shirt and take it off, revealing his toned chest, and you can't help but run your hands over it, sending shivers down his spine.

He moved down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He reached to your belly, leaving trails of kisses.

'I love your body,' he murmured.

He continued down, teasing you through the fabric of your panties. You gasped, your hips bucking as he finally slipped a finger under the fabric and into your wet heat.

He slowly fingered you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned and writhed beneath him. You were so wet, so ready for him. He couldn't wait any longer. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, throwing them aside.

He climbed back up your body, his hardness pressing against your wetness. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him on. With one swift thrust, he was inside you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to fuck you with long, hard strokes.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. Bruce could feel an orgasm building inside him, tightening as he slammed into you again and again.

You pushed him off of you before he climaxed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding your pelvis against his hard cock. Bruce could feel the heat radiating from your wet pussy, and he ached to be inside you.

'I love how you feel on top of me,' he murmured, his breath hot. "I love your softness, your curves, your warmth."

You reached down and guided Bruce's cock inside your wet slit. He groaned with pleasure as you sank down onto him, taking him all the way in. You began to ride him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. Your hands braced on Bruce's chest. You began to ride him harder, your hips slamming down onto his cock with force. Bruce could feel himself getting close to the edge, feeling himself tighten with pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Bruce came hard inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you. You collapsed onto him, your own orgasm washing over you in waves.

"I love you,' he gasped, his breath hot against your neck. 'You are my everything."

In that intimate embrace, he held you with a fervent tenderness, a sensation he never wanted to fade from memory. His heart overflowed with a desire to immortalize this profound moment: the gentle weight of your presence in his arms, the vulnerability shining in your eyes as you yielded to the depth of his affection, and the unspoken declaration of love reflected on your radiant face.

"I love you," you whispered back, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

#Bruce Wayne x plus size reader #Batman x plus size reader #plus size reader #genna writes

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kennysboxergf · 10 months

Note

Hey girl! I love your writing. Could you do a Niko smut of them all going out to dinner and Niko and the girl are enemies but they’re both attracted to each other and they both end up bumping into each other coming out of the bathroom and they have hate sex 😜😜😜😜

With Him ~ Niko Omilana

GOD I FUCKING HATE MYSELF I READ THIS WRONG AND THEYRE EXES NOW OMG 😭😭

hopefully it’s still alright, they’re isn’t much smut but I set it up so if anyone wants I will write the continuation with more hate smut 🤭🤭

—

God, you hated how much you loved your friends. They invited you out really sweetly to a dinner at some restaurant or the other. It was already suspicious how long you had gone without Darkest violating you in some way or another but you agreed to come nonetheless.

You were even more put off when FIlly extended a pinky in your direction and asked you to promise him you were coming. You agreed to that too.

Stupid. Stupid!

Now here you were at this lovely dinner with your ex staring into your soul from where he was sitting, right in front of you. As soon as you had walked in and seen him sitting at the table you wanted to turn around and sprint your way down the street. It’s not the fact that you guys ended things badly. Well it was that fact. Last time you had seen his face you were yelling at it, there was still some sort of tension between the two of you.

Then there was that dickhead Sharky who waved at you and yelled out your name so everyone’s attention was on you. You couldn’t even run away now. Great.

You forced a smile and went to the table. And of course. The only empty seat was right across from Niko. Wonderful. Truly delightful. You knew Filly and Darkest knew what they were doing when they tricked you into this dinner. You glanced at them to see them laughing and smiling at you. Traitors.

You turn your attention back from the back stabbers to him. You notice him already looking at you but he looks away as soon as you turn to him. Weird.

Most of the dinner isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You two just avoided each other. You saw a few more weird looks from the direction of your ex-boyfriend but brushed it off as unresolved beef. It got a little weirder when he started really loudly talking about a new girl he smashed. Really loudly, like practically screaming through the restaurant about it. Even the guys were getting a little weirded out with this behaviour. You were getting really uncomfortable the more he announced it.

You knew he was doing all this just to fuck with you. And you weren’t going to have a single second of it. You quickly excused yourself to the bathroom. You had to scuttle past Kenny to get out of the sofa seat and even his thick skull could tell you weren’t ok. You heard a whisper ‘you good?’ as you passed him and nodded in response before rushing as calmly as you could to the privacy of the cubicle.

You raised your hand to your chest to feel your heart pounding in anger. The heat of the feeling spreads through your veins. Of fucking course, Niko got a new girl. Why wouldn’t he? The two of you were over. But it had never really felt like it, it always felt unfinished.

None of that mattered now because there he was, probably still talking about his new lay at the dinner table. You took a deep breath, which seemed to only anger you more, due to some repressed memory of someone (cough, Sharky, cough) telling you to calm down after you broke up with Niko initially. All your thoughts had been invaded with memories of him, good and bad.

It made you wanna smack the shit out of him but also hold his cheek gently in the palm of your hand and kiss him. Then fuck him out.

You left the cubicle to look at your face in the mirror, your mascara had smudged ever so slightly so you quickly fixed it with your fingers and some water before heading out the bathroom.

You were still thinking about Niko and other things, but mainly Niko. So it came as a shock when you bumped into a giant wall of flesh that just happened to be him.

He pushed you away from where you crashed against his body. With barely a glance in your direction he said, “watch where you’re going”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and irritation, and reply back with, “You’re like 6 heads over everyone else in this room you should have seen me coming”

His face distorted into one of mock pity, “I’m sorry, are you too small and petite to see properly?”

You matched his fake face, “I’m sorry, were you too busy thinking about your new girl to think straight? Are you too horny?”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous~” he sings as he steps closer to you.

“Sounds like someone’s hiding bad sex skills by bragging about them~” you shoot back.

“Sounds like someone is targeting my sex skills cus they miss them” he takes a step closer, there is a sort of mischievous look in his eyes as he does.

“Are you making things up about me wanting you because, in secret, you still want me? Haven’t gotten over when I left you all alone in the living room of your house?” That was a little harsh, you winced internally at yourself. You put your hands on your hips as you talk. You’re at a disadvantage as your back is close to the wall and he’s only coming closer and closer still.

His eyes darken at your comments, “you wish I wanted you” he says simply. Another step closer, the two of you are barely a foot apart now.

“Sure keep lying to yourself” you say, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“This isn’t a joke, y/n” he says harshly. Your eyes widen at how serious he is.

He steps closer, you two are touching feet.

“You left me there, all by myself, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that low before.” He says his hands gesturing as he tries to emphasise how he felt.

You open to speak and his finger goes up to close your lips gently.

“and now you come here, and I thought we could be friends, or at least we could be civil but here we are fighting in the hallway” he claimed, his voice rising.

“We were civil. We are friends.” You stated, speaking slowly and loud to make him hear. You smacked his finger off your lips. “Until you started talking about your new girlfriend so loud that the whole restaurant had turned their heads to listen”

“So you ARE jealous?” He says, completely fucking ignoring anything you’ve just said.

You try to push him off you but he comes back as quick as you can extend your arms. He places a hand on the wall behind you. The force of his body coming forwards slams yours into the wall. You look up at him and see his eyes looking at you with a fire behind them. You felt the same fire flare in your chest.

“I’m not jealous you fucking weirdo, im trying to tell you that you started this but you don’t listen. You never did.” You stick a finger in his chest as if that would get him to open his ears.

He twisted his face into one of anger, and started to spew more insults mixed with arguments for himself. This isn't something you were going to listen to, you didn’t have the patience to let him waffle about why he was right anymore. You had to shut him up somehow. And there was only one way you know how.

You went up on your tiptoes to kiss him. His chatter stopped. Your eyes were squeezed shut, scared of his response. His eyes were blown wide. You felt his lips kiss you back. You leaned into the familiarity, his hot lips against yours.

You pulled away first. His eyes were more open now, still angry but also confused now.

He took your arm and pulled the two of you into the bathrooms. You led the way to a cubicle once your back had been pushed through the door. It was all very fast and frantic, your heart was beating very quickly in your chest. You locked the door to the cubicle and turned around to Niko immediately putting his lips back on yours.

Neither of you said anything as you kissed, it could start another argument neither of you wanted. You tried to gain an upper hand, putting your hand under his shirt and pulling it up. His hands went around your waist and pulled you in closer.

You pushed him down onto the toilet seat, thankfully the seat was closed but at this point it would be very funny to see Niko fall into the toilet. He landed with a grunt, you sat yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of the seat. This was so unsanitary but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Niko’s hands trailed their way up your thighs, going under the dress you had on. You could feel his boner under the light fabric of your underwear.

That’s when you heard the door open. The two of you stopped your actions. You sat as still as you could on top of him and his hands gripped at your thighs. The stranger couldn’t see you through where you had locked yourself in the cubicle but your heart had jumped to your throat.

As you heard them enter a cubicle a few stalls away from yours your heart calmed down. That’s when an evil idea floated through your mind. You grind up and down on Niko’s lap, he looked at you with the confusion painted on his face. You continued your actions, he would have loved to reciprocate but he was too busy slamming a hand over his mouth to stay quiet. You increased your movements. He gasped under his hand and his eyes squeezed shut.

Just when you thought he was going to moan out loud you stopped. You got off of him as quickly and quietly and you could and leaned over his shoulder to press the flush. He couldn’t process the actions and you took the opportunity to quickly open the door of the cubicle and go out.

He opened his mouth to say something before closing it, reminded of the situation. You wink and wave, a gleeful smile on your face before closing the door on his aghast face. You made your way to the sink and washed your hands before heading out into the hall.

You passed another woman on her way to the bathroom and your smile grew bigger. You let out a small giggle once you were out of ear shot. You would love to continue the ‘conversation’ later but, come on! How could you pass up an opportunity like that?

You rejoined your friends at the table. You pretended to be interested in the conversation but you kept checking your phone for the time, getting a bit more excited as the minutes passed.

Finally, after around 10 minutes Niko emerged from the bathrooms. You looked up at him to see him scowling at you, his hands were at his pants, adjusting them slightly.

Chunkz looked up at him then down at his watch, “took you long enough, were you having a wank in there?”

The table burst into laughter, and yours was clearly the loudest. His eyes never left yours and he muttered a sarcastic “ha ha” and took his spot on the table.

Some time in the midst of the conversation, when everyone was too focused on one thing or the other to see you, he leaned over the table and gestured for you to do the same. You lean in with confusion but a smile is still evident on your face.

“Meet me after this dinner” he says, small and sharp.

Your stomach flutters.

“Ok, professor” you whisper back.

You sit back down, ok maybe, you were still into him. You couldn’t wait for this night to end as he shot daggers into you from his seat and you shot back smug smiles and winks. You hoped nobody had noticed that the tension between you two had changed. But maybe they did because they all left very quickly, leaving you alone. With him.

—

as always requests are open and please come by and say hi <3

#beta squad #niko omilana #niko x reader #niko x you #smut

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