#so they think he's new to the city and will decide he's just ignorant/needs it explained to him.
Note
for the bat boys (or bat boys x feyre), I really wanna see rhys just tied down, desperate, and overwhelmed with pleasure. like everybody just decides to show their high lord some love!! I wanna see rhys in tears (in a good way), and they just praise him and love on him so good!! I can def see rhys having a major praise kink. feel free to ignore tho, thank you!!💖
Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader)
Based off this ask as well
AN: HAHAHA guys I’ve been reading The L.O.R.D.S series by Shantel Tessier and I’ve been fucking loving it. Also I wrote the second half of this in a fucking Barnes and Noble cafe, I was SWEATING, but I wanted to get it done for you because I have some cool Az stuff I’m working on for you!
Summary: When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.
Warnings: Smut (shocker),sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, bondage, threesome, objectification, size difference??
Word count: 6,058
Things in Velaris were changing. The second the new High Lord rose to power it was like things were lighter. Shops stayed open later, the people laughed and drank at dinner more often, everything was just better. Yet in the Riverhouse at the edge of the city it seemed there were clouds stirring, in a metaphorical way of course.
No one had seen Rhysand since the night his father died, which was months ago.
The most powerful High Lord.
The most dangerous High Lord.
The most handsome High Lord
And known by the girls at the pleasure house…the most well endowed High Lord.
At least what all my coworkers were whispering around me the day I was brought to the front by the mistress who ran the place. In all honesty I thought I was in trouble, not that I had done anything wrong in the past year I had been here. But no one ever got called to her office for nothing.
I closed the door behind me to where my mistress was reading a letter, a violet wax seal stamped to the front. Her red hair and red gown complimented the scarlett of her office, of the whole pleasure house really. She claimed it was the color of passion, and demanded that we all practically bathe in it.
“You asked to see me?” I say timidly.
I couldn’t afford to lose this job, I had no family, no support system. Nothing to rely on or depend on. Sure it wasn’t the most prestigious career, but I did like it. I had always been interested in sex, fascinated with it really. The woman who lived next door to my family growing up was a sex worker. She always wore the most beautiful gowns and jewels, and lured the most handsome men to her home. My mother cursed me when I said I wanted to look like her one day but I didn’t care.
“Yes I have a letter here, from the High Lord,” she says, showing me the letter she had been reading when I walked in.
My eyes widen and the air is sucked from my lungs. What could the High Lord want with the house? Hell, what would the High Lord want with me?
“The High Lord?” I gawk, taking a step forward attempting to catch a glance at the letter.
She puts her glasses back down on her nose and reads the paper again, “yes, he asks that I send my very best girl to his townhouse at my earliest convenience.”
“And you’re picking me?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“You rake in more money than all the rest of the girls, you’re beautiful, elegant and well versed. I can think of no one better.” she explains setting the letter down on the desk.
My mind swirls, what does the High Lord want? Well sex of course, but I wasn’t one for house calls. Though I suppose he was the High Lord , he couldn’t very well walk in here with the anonymity that others could.
“Well don’t just stand there!” my mistress shouts. “Go to the townhouse before he thinks me to be a simple fool.”
I jilt from my thoughts and nod, walking briskly out the door. I bypass the other girls who are chatting about the High Lord and I wonder if any of them are aware of the letter that was sent, what his intentions might be. I guess there’s only one way to find out.
I had watched the townhouse on the hill my entire life, knew that the High Lord lived there, and constantly wondered what it might be like inside. It was like the scary house at the end of the street that children stayed away from; it had been built up to that mythical status. Except it wasn’t scary—unless you counted scarily prestigious.
As I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door a woman with dark skin and darker hair opened it and signaled for me to come in. The lush, thick, carpets gave reprieve to my aching feet. Stilettos on cobblestone was never a good idea, but what else did one wear to meet their High Lord?
She gestured to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. I took in my surroundings, for what it was worth the place was beautiful. Ornate but tasteful. Expensive but lived in. I can see why the High Lord never left. I took a deep breath but before I could even knock on the doors a deep voice, one that could only be described as Night Triumphant, beckoned me to enter.
I creaked open the door to find the High Lord busily doing paperwork at his desk. He was nothing and everything that I had expected. When the girls at the home whispered of his looks, his charm, I thought of something mythical. But the male before me? He transcended even that.
His legendary violet eyes flitted up to mine and I swore my breath caught in my throat. He sat his papers down to the side as he stood, bracing his hands on his desk. If his height didn’t make me feel small the sheer power radiating off of him did.
“My, my,” he croons, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “You are exquisite,” he says, crossing his strong arms in front of his chest.
I suddenly remember the reason I was summoned here in the first place and I put on the mask, the role I was supposed to play.
“Well my Lord, you asked for the very best.” I say smoothly taking two steps towards him. “So here I am.”
“While I love the way ‘my Lord’ rolls off that pretty tongue, feel free to call me Rhysand, you’re going to be here for a while.” he smirked, and I swore there was a star that flashed in his eye.
I nearly gulped at his words.
You’re going to be here for a while…
I had been with needy men before, made a career out of it. But this was no man, and I wondered if I could keep up with him.
“As you wish,” I say nodding my head obediently. Males like him strived for dominance, it was my job to anticipate that.
I feel a hand tilt my chin up and once again I’m met with his intense gaze. I was right about the stars, his eyes were littered with them.
“The selfish part of me wants to play with you right now, but I have a feeling my brothers would be more than angry at me for having you first,” he smirked, his breath so hot on my face I almost jumped when I realized how close he was to me.
Wait, the High Lord didn’t have brothers, he was an only child, an orphan really. “Brothers?” I ask, the question had slipped out before I could think of a better more professional way to ask.
“Well not my biological brothers, but my brothers in arms I suppose,” he smirks, releasing my chin taking a step back towards his desk again. “Cassian, the general of my armies and Azriel my spymaster.”
My breath gets caught in my throat. I had heard stories of the High Lord’s most trusted members of his court. They were large, Illyrian, and death on swift wings. My face must’ve given away my shock as Rhysand let out a low chuckle.
“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you. They are to care for you as I do, it’s all written here in your contract,” he explained, sitting down and sliding a piece of paper over the desk.
I made myself comfortable in the seat opposite of him, plucking the paper from the desk and skimming it over.
“You see,” he begins. “Becoming High Lord has been rewarding but…well…tiring. Cassian and Azriel are just as tired. We aren’t given the same anonymity we had in our youth which has made finding sexual release difficult.” he said, his cheeks blushing slightly.
“You’ll live here, I already have a room prepared for you. I’ll provide you with a salary and provide for you in any way you need. In return you provide us with your…services?” he says the last word like he can’t think of a better way to say it. How is he sexy reading my contract to me?
I set the contract on the desk, “And what are the parameters of these services?” I ask leaning forward on the desk.
Rhysand smiles leaning forward with me, “Mostly we will seek you out on our own but there will be certain times, like tonight, where we will want to share,” he grins like he can already see the scene.
I nod slowly waiting for him to add anything else and he does.
“Of course there will be safewords, though I doubt you will need them. Your mistress said you have a rather large palette,” he says and I get his meaning immediately.
I can’t help but blush, the male already knows more about me than I do him. Something that rarely ever happens in my line of work.
“She didn’t mislead you,” I say, my lips tugging into a small smile.
“Then you’ll take the job?” he asks plucking a fountain pen from its resting place.
I look at the large number with lots of zeros written under ‘Salary’, it’s more than I make in three months. I could pay off all my debts with the first two paychecks, and after that? Well the shops of Velaris wouldn’t know what hit them. I could have the life I always dreamed of, expensive silks, fancy soaps, wine aged for thousands of years. And all I had to do was sleep with the three most powerful males in the Night Court. What female could possibly say no?
“I will,” I say, plucking the pen out of the High Lord’s hands singing the marked places next to his ornate signature.
I look up to see Rhysand already staring at me, with a lust I hadn’t seen before, not in any male. How long had it been since he had sex?
He stands holding his hand out to me, “Allow me to show you to your room.”
“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes.
I nod.
“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.
Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future.
Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him.
“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble.
Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests.
“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.”
“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.”
A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room.
“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me.
I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was.
“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair.
“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.”
“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet.
“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases.
“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore.
“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch.
The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone.
“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh.
I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me.
“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back.
Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it.
“She’s the best of the best, her name is y/n.” Rhysand drawls watching intently as his brother who I have deciphered is Cassian, inspects me. “We decided earlier that her safeword will be starlight,”
“Y/n, huh?” he smiles brushing a stray hair from my face as he drinks in my attire, something Rhysand had clearly purchased for me to wear tonight. A black sheer little nightgown. Revealing, yet classy like he has said. It was clear to me that the male had exquisite taste.
I feel a warm leather bump into my back as a scarred hand runs over my shoulder. I crane my neck up to find Azriel standing above me, from where he stands he can no doubt get a great view of my tits.
“How should we thank dear old Rhysand for this marvelous present?” Cassian asks Azriel and the shadow singers eyes gleam.
“Oh I can think of a few ways,” he smirks.
As if they all had one mind we were winnowed to the bedroom upstairs, my bedroom I realized. The bed had been made big enough for all of us, and I wonder how empty it would feel when the boys weren’t around.
I look around me, the positions of us all haven’t changed. I find myself gazing up at Azriel, the hungry look in his eye has me taking a step back only to bump right into Cassian earning a chuckle from the general. A glace to my bed has me seeing Rhysand sitting on it’s edge.
“Az,” Cassian mumbles, sharing a knowing look at the shadow singer.
Before I can put together the pieces of Cassian and Azriel’s interaction, bands of shadows shoot from all over the room wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists of the High Lord. Rhys struggles for a moment, like it's second nature before he gives in, his face stern.
“Az that’s enough,” he scowls.
Azriel brushes off the command and turns my chin to meet his gaze. His finger brushes over my bottom lip and I close my top lip over his thumb, giving it a gentle experimental suck. His eyes darken and the next thing I know I’m sucking on his thumb and looking at him like a doe eyed fool.
“What a good girl she is,” he croons before dragging my face to him, replacing his thumb with his lips.
His kiss and deep and searing, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. His hands come to cup my face, keeping me there as he kisses me like a starved male. Gods, how long had it been since any of them had sex?
My hair is pushed to the side as I feel the general begin to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. He pulls my hips toward him, and I’m met with his hard on pressed to my back and his bare chest warming my skin. Azriel steps back with love drunk eyes and Cassian takes his opportunity to turn my hips so I’m facing him.
Somehow he’s even more hulking and intimidating when bare. My eyes glance over the expanse of well built muscles to where his cock is already hard and leaking, and by the size of it I could tell I would be sore tomorrow.
From behind me I can hear the faint unclasping of buckles signaling that Azriel is mimicking Cassian’s movements.
“Let’s see you now, little one,” the general smirks before sliding both straps of the see through the gown off my shoulders. The black mesh falls to a pool of fabric on the floor and I’m laid bare for him, for all of them.
A snap reverberates through the room pulling my attention to Rhysand, his sophisticated garb now long gone. The plains of his toned muscles and swirling tattoos that resemble his brothers on full display along with his aching cock. He’s even more marvelous nude than he is clothed. His lips tug up at the corner as he sees me eye fucking him.
Cassian’s hand goes under my bare breast bringing my attention back to him, it seems that while I was ogling Rhys, he was studying me.
“Rhys you’ve outdone yourself,” Cassian smirks and I’ve never felt so exposed. “Her tits are perfect,” he smiles before bending down to suckle an aching nipple into his mouth.
I moan and lean back ever so slightly into a muscled chest, when I open my eyes Azriel stares down at me. A scarred hand drifts over my shoulder, down my side, and across my bum until it cups my sex and I gasp.
Cassian’s lips smile against my breast before he moves on to the next one, my breath catching in my throat once again.
“So small,” Azriel teases, referring to my cunt. “I’m not sure she can take us.” The glint in his eye tells me that this is a challenge, a test.
“I can,” I say confidently and the shadowsinger laughs.
“I think I’ll test that out,” Cassian grumbles, taking me in his arms.
I’m pulled from Azriel’s fiery touch as the warmth of Cassian seeps into me. For the first time in a while my eyes snap to Rhysand. His brow was laced with sweat, as well as the skin on his chest.
“Oh poor Rhys, did you want to touch her?” Azriel taunted, I was honestly surprised that they would dare to put their High Lord in this position.
“Please,” Rhysand whimpered, making my heart lurch.
Did the most powerful High Lord, the most dangerous High Lord. the most handsome High Lord, the most well endowed High Lord… just beg?
A sudden boost of confidence fills my chest.
“Az pull him back on the bed, I’m going to be needing some room,” Cassian boasts massaging circles on my hips.
Rhysand is pulled to the headboard, the shadows on his wrists pulling his arms out to either side as well as the ones on his ankles, preventing him from getting any sort of friction. The High Lord cursed, as if the brief fiction on his balls from being dragged across the sheets might’ve been enough to get him off. The logical part of me knew that he could break free of these restraints at any given moment, hells the power practically radiated off of him. But he was here to play the game and I was too.
“Why don’t you go play with your High Lord a little bit sweetheart,” Cassian croons, clearly loving the power trip he’s on. I take two steps forward before the general grabs me by the throat hauling me to his chest again. I look up at him like a love sick fool. “But stay clear of his cock. He’ll be the last to cum tonight. Doesn’t that seem fair Az?”
“Seems more than fair to me, seeing as we’ve been doing all the flying around these past few weeks,” Azriel chuckles.
Cassian releases my throat and I make my way over to the breathless High Lord. It takes everything in me not to straddle him and take him right there. His cock was red, angry, practically begging for it.
I sit on the edge of the bed to his right giving him my best bedroom eyes. Gone was the cocky male from earlier who made all sorts of promises of bedding me the best. Instead a male stripped to his most vulnerable sat before me, chest heaving, eyes wild. The muscles of his arms and legs flexing and bulging from trying to break free of the shadows that bound him, the bindings that made him this way.
“They aren’t being very fair to you are they?” I say seductively trailing a hand down his shoulders, over the plains of his chest and to his abs.
He shudders under my touch, “no they aren’t,” he breathes.
“Mmm,” I hum, placing a kiss on his neck, even the thin sheen of sweat on him tasted divine. “And you were so nice, sharing your little fuck toy with them and now they won’t let me play with you,” I say donning a fake sadness.
My hand brushes over his hip bone and down his thigh, carefully avoiding the hard erection begging to be brushed.
“Please,” he whimpers his lips hot on my cheek, and I swear I hear Cassian and Azriel chuckle behind me.
My hand swoops to his inner thigh, teasing the muscles there. His whimper has me caving, and I feel as though I’m suddenly not acting of my own accord as my hand wanders towards his cock.
“Ah, ah, ah!” I hear Cassian tut before scooping me into his arms and pulling me away from Rhys. Causing the latter to groan in frustration.
“Using daemati to get a female to jerk you off? That’s a new low for you, Rhys.” Azriel chuckles
Daemati. That would explain why I didn’t feel like I was in control for that one moment. I had heard that the High Lord possessed such powers, but I thought they were simply myths.
I feel myself being bent over the storage bench at the end of the bed, the cloth covered fluff cushioning my knees and hands as I feel a harsh slap to my bum.
“Fuck this is going to be so good,” Cassian murmurs from behind me.
Azriel stands at the other end of the bench fisting his cock but before he can speak Cassian enters me.
“Oh Gods!” I scream as I feel myself being pushed forward on my hands.
The stretch of the general filling me so completely had me wondering if Azriel was right about my ability to take them all earlier. Cassian’s hands come to pull me down onto him, as if he needed the help to fully sheathe himself. One hand on my lower back, one on my hip.
“Shit she’s so fuckin’ tight,” Cassian groans as he begins to rock into me.
“Please, please,” Rhysand begs from his spot on the bed.
I don’t even bother to see the new beads of sweat dripping from his brow, the drops of precum leaking out of his painfully hard cock. Hell, I can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of Cassian picking up the pace behind me.
“Shh Rhys, I’m enjoying this tight little pus,” Cassian groans, tightening his hold on my hips.
My arms are starting to go limp when Azriel’s hand tilts my chin up so he can see my fucked out face.
“Open your mouth little one,” he says, fisting his cock and I obey like a puppet on a string. “What a good girl,” he smirks before tapping his cock on my outstretched tongue.
“Fuck her mouth Az,” Cassian groans doubling down on his thrusts behind me.
“You’re such an obedient little thing, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” he croons before thrusting his cock inside my mouth.
The general’s relentless hammering shoves Azriel’s cock down my throat in perfect tandem and I start to wonder if there are other females who have found themselves in my position. With the way they fuck both ends of me so efficiently I wouldn’t doubt it.
It isn’t until my drool is falling down my face mixing with my tears that Azriel grips my hair forcing me down on his cock more. The male became more needy than he had been all night as his soft grunts filled the room. My eyes flitted to his hazel ones and a self satisfied smirk crossed his face.
“You like this don’t you? You like being fucked in both your little holes?” He teases me, pulling my hair harder.
His words have me whimpering around him and curling my toes. The spymaster was right, I loved this. That I could make these males, the most powerful in the Night Court, so feral, so unhinged.
Cassain chuckles behind me slapping my ass again, “Too bad we don’t have someone to fuck this third hole back here,” he says taunting Rhys as I feel him trace a finger over that said third hole.
“Fuck,” Rhys hisses from where Azriel has him restrained, watching the show they’re giving him.
I feel my legs starting to tremble beneath me and as they start to give out Cassian swipes both hands under my hips to keep me upright. So upright my knees don't even touch the bench anymore allowing him to fuck me harder, deeper, and faster.
“You going to cum little one?” Cassian taunts me, picking up the pace a bit.
My whine is enough to have Azriel slamming his hips into my face, spilling himself down my throat as my nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a moment I can’t breathe at all, as I feel his seed spill over my tongue. When he pulls out I finally take in a deep breath, which is short lived as he grabs my chin forcing me to meet his gaze again.
“Swallow,” he orders.
I do as I’m told, feeling the thick white ropes slide down my throat, warming my stomach.
His thumb tugs my jaw down forcing my mouth open as he makes sure every last drop is gone. When he’s satisfied he closes my mouth and gives my cheek a light slap, “good girl.” he mutters.
“Finally,” Cassian breathes and I feel my front being shoved into the cushions on the bench before me, allowing Cassian to drive deeper. It seems his brother's use of my mouth was quite the inconvenience for him.
I make eye contact with Rhys who's painting and sweating. Moans and curses fall from his lips as he watches Cassian take me hard. It’s not long until I’m cumming around his cock.
“Oh gods!” I scream feeling my legs shake and the knot in my stomach unwind as I cum all over the general’s cock.
Cassian growls, deep and primal, before delivering one last thrust, spilling himself into me, “That’s a good girl. Take it, take all of it.” he groans, forcing my body down.
As the Illyrian pulls out of me I can feel my heart beating in my throat and in my head. My chest rises and falls in time with my shaking legs. But I know I’m not done, not while Rhysand looks at me like I’m water and he’s been wandering the deserts of summer for too long.
“You were so good, Rhys,” Cassian taunts, running his hand down the High Lord’s leg making his chest rise faster. “We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift, didn’t we Az?”
Azriel nodded next to me, his scarred hands pulling me up by my shoulders and then hoisting me up by my thighs so my back was to his front. The position was more than awkward, but as he placed me on his High Lord’s shaking lap I understood why.
“Make him feel real good princess, we love our Rhysie,” Azriel laughs upon seeing Rhys breath picking up. Despite his words he kept his restraints on the Lord, one last test.
I place my hands on his chest, the skin there cold and clammy, and I can’t help but want to feel more. His eyes are blown out, and I feel as though he’s looking right through me. He’s a vision like this, maybe even more so than when he was sitting behind his desk looking like sheer power. He was vulnerable here.
I run a hand down his face like I’m unable to help it and his eyes widen, “So handsome my Lord,” I breathe. “What do you want from me?” I ask as I press my lips to his.
He can hardly kiss back, can hardly even think besides anything but the need. Beside him his brothers run a hand through his hair and whisper praises to him, trying to bring him back.
“Anything p-please, t-touch me,” he whimpers and I swear I see a tear roll down his face. From not being touched at all, to being touched everywhere but where he needs most, the High Lord was being pushed to his limits.
“Yes my Lord,” I whisper before sinking myself on his cock.
Where Cassian was thicker, Rhysand was long, digging so deep into me that I felt a pinch as he brushed my cervix. The pain bringing me back from the fuck out haze the spymaster and the general left me in.
Rhysand hissed low, “Oh fuck yes,” he groans pushing his head back on the headboard.
Cassian’s hand comes up to brush the fallen hair and sweat from his High Lord’s head, “She’s a tight little thing isn’t she?” he asks, pressing a kiss to his temple.
I splay my hands across Rhys’ chest, trying to give myself the leverage needed to bounce myself up and down on his cock. The slow drag of him inside of me has me scrunching my eyes shut trying to savor every sensation. My shaking legs make it hard to move myself up and down.
“More, p-please,” Rhysand groans, his voice dropping deeper and starting to resemble the tone I heard this afternoon.
“Az give her a hand,” Cassian instructs from where he sits by Rhys.
I feel Azriel settle in behind me, his warm chest bumping against the clammy skin of my back. His hands lift my hips helping me to bounce up and down like I’m nothing but a cocksleeve. The motion makes me gasp and writhe as I’m able to settle to a faster and more stable pace.
“Oh fuck Az,” Rhysand bites out. “I can’t,” he groans and I watch the muscles of his chest and arms go taut as he pulls on the shadowy bindings that keep him from touching me.
The strain in his arms and chest is so great that I can see each individual muscle the Lord had built through the years. I couldn’t help but run my hands over him feeling each one.
“Let him go Az,” Cassian instructs the shadowsinger and within seconds the bindings are gone, like even Az wanted to see what his High Lord would do next.
Rhysand’s hands fall from the headboard and find their way to my hips. Turns out him not being able to touch me was a punishment for both of us. He shifts his hips so I fall forward, and he connects his lips to mine as he thrusts up into me, putting me at his mercy.
He consumes my mouth fully, running his hands up and down my sides greedily before squeezing my breast making me moan into his mouth. The way he kisses me tells me that I’m no longer in charge and neither is anyone else in this room for that matter.
His lips detach from mine and fall to my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses there. His hands leave bruises in the skin of my hips as he slams up into me, his cock hitting my cervix with each stroke, those initial stings of pain becoming pleasure.
“Oh fuck Rhys,” I moan completely forgetting his title.
“Say it again,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “Let them know who owns you!”
I had completely forgotten about the other Illyrians in the room with us. I glance to the side to find Azriel fisting his cock beside me. When I don’t moan the Lord name again a swift slap comes across my ass.
“Rhysand!” I cry out, feeling the euphoria of him.
“Fuck it,” he seethes and before I register what he means by it, my back hits the mattress.
The new position gives him a new range of motion to piston into me. Somehow he’s able to hit me even deeper this way. Causing me to let out wanton cries and moans as he fucks me, my polished nails scraping down his back trying to find purchase.
“Yeah Rhys get it!” Cassian cheers from the edge of the bed.
The taunt makes the High Lord feral, slamming his hips into me. He’s more animal than man at this point having been teased all night. The near primal growl he lets out has me cumming on his cock, my back arching off the back, my moan guttural.
My cunt squeezes his cock as pleasure lights up my body like lightning, and it isn’t long until I feel his hips stutter as he cums inside of me with a groan.
“Oh fuck yes,” his voice is like gravel as I feel him spilling inside of me endlessly, his seed joining Cassian’s.
Faintly, through the roaring in my ears I can hear Cassian and Azriel’s grunts as well as they finish. The idea of them getting off to their High Lord cumming inside of me is almost enough to make me beg him to do it again. But as he collapses beside me I feel how spent I truly am.
Rhys hand comes to brush back my hair from my face as he places a kiss to my temple, “Such a good girl for us,” he says to me before turning to Cassian again, “Go get her a towel and a glass of water.” he orders, clearly re-assuming his role as the High Lord.
He spends the next minute or so running a hand over my hair as he cradles me to his chest soothing me. My breath starts to slow and I feel a warm towel beneath my legs as Cassian wipes away the mess they both made. Glass touches my lips as Rhys helps me to drink the water brought to me. Whatever I don’t finish he downs in one go.
“Leave us,” he orders pulling the covers over our cold and clammy bodies.
“What no post sex cuddles for me?” Cassian laughs, throwing up his hands. I laugh before placing a kiss on Rhys chest, as much as I wouldn’t mind all three of them holding me right now I know who pays my bills now.
“Fine,” Rhys huffs, throwing back the covers behind me so Cass can slip in.
I wonder where Azriel will lie, but when my eyes search for him he’s already out the door walking to his own room undoubtedly. Something tells me he’s different from his two brothers, he’s quiet, but the words he told me earlier have me wondering what’s up his sleeve.
Cassian’s arms curl around me, and eventually the three of us fall asleep. But the voice that swims through my head as sleep takes me is Azriel’s.
I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you…
(This is going to be a series! I think I'll do one for each bat boy! If you want to be tagged let me know and if there's any kinky shit you wanna see let me know in the comments or drop it in my inbox!)
Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife, @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain, @winchesterbbygrl
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark
#bat boys x reader smut#bat boys#bat boys x reader#bat boys acotar#rhys acotar#rhysand#rhysand x reader#azriel shadowsinger#rhysand angst#azriel x reader#rhysand acotar#rhysand fluff#cassian acotar#azriel x you#acotar#cassian x reader smut#cassian x azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x reader smut#azriel x cassian x reader#cassian x azriel x reader#cassian smut#rhysand smut#rhysand x reader smut#rhysand x cassian#poly!batboys
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Y’know, in the town I grew up in there was like… a silent war over what we called the town. It had a few different nicknames (and, of course, a full name) and everyone chose one which sounded right to them and stuck to it. If two people who chose different sides ended up talking about it, they would passive aggressively use their own preferred nickname more & more pointedly as the conversation went on.
Anyway, DC’s version of this is Bludhaven. There are people who call it Blud (pronounced “blood,”) people who call it Blud (pronounced “blue’d”), people who call it BHC (like NYC), people who call it BC (“You can’t just take an initial from the middle of a word!”), people who call it Haven, and people who call it by its full name (with either of the previous 2 pronunciations.)
And if you question any of them, they’ll tell you theirs is the only right way to say it. Everyone else is wrong.
#Bludhaven#nightwing#dick grayson#richard grayson#Dc comics#batman#batfam#batfamily#dick grayson nightwing#nightwing dick grayson#my life#mine#dc headcanon#//#Nightwing mirrors whoever he’s talking to and /never/ says the name of the city first.#Dick Grayson switches it up regularly because he likes to be obnoxious but also knows how to make people like/agree with him.#He is usually just one step off from whoever he's talking to in order to cut the middle ground and leans into his Gotham accent#so they think he's new to the city and will decide he's just ignorant/needs it explained to him.#Dick's been living there over a decade and it's still very funny when someone starts gently telling him nobody /actually/ calls it that.#(Though I believe if left to his own devices then Dick would call it Haven.)
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
-
Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.
Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.
He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental.
And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.
Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—
He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.
In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing.
The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.
Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets.
And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one.
It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling.
They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed.
“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise.
Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”
Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment.
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside.
Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on.
Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl.
Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see.
So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out.
It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.
Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact.
“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks.
“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well.
“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.
“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm.
It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them.
Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her.
Breathe in and out.
“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.
She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well.
“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains.
“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words.
“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—”
“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.”
Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now.
He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it.
“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits.
It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding.
“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”
“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.
“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”
“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.
“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”
“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in.
Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.
He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick.
“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize.
Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”
Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite.
He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.”
Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground.
“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”
“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?”
Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”
Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”
“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.
He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave.
And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie.
Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being.
“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down.
Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way.
On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet.
Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.”
His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give.
Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous.
It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—
Even the thought makes him see red.
He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased.
“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion.
She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed.
His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.
She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room.
He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.
He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.
Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor.
The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”
Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world.
“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.
He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader
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Note: the 2nd part for this. fem!reader. cheating. i didn’t think you would like it so much, but since you did, here’s part two.
•••
Maybe if he watched you close enough, if he kept an eye on you while he was near, Simon would get the answers he was looking for. All he wanted was a glimpse into your mind, a glint in your eyes that would give away why you’d spent those nights by his side without saying anything about it.
The mission was slowly coming to an end, and he had overheard you and Johnny talk about your plans for your time home. The Scotsman offered to go on a short trip with you to Rome, visiting the city you’d read so much about in the past year or so. Going there was a promise you made to yourself on New Year’s Day and he was more than happy to help make it happen.
“Have you introduced her to your family?” Simon asked Johnny one evening when they went out for a drink.
The younger man gave him a confused look, but once the lieutenant motioned towards the corner of the bar where you were deep in a conversation with Laswell, his lips formed a flat line and he nodded a few times. “Yeah, well, I mentioned her once to my sister, and the next thing I know, my mother’s blowing up my phone. I’d rather keep her away from this insanity,” he explained.
“Wise choice.”
He hated this. He hated to know that Johnny was dating you, he hated to keep up this nice conversation with him, all while he was struggling to find out why you cared about him back then. His mind was full of stupid ideas again, that maybe you weren’t that deeply in love with the fellow sergeant. What if he was just your backup plan? What if the one you truly wanted was him?
Fucking hell. He was truly losing his grip.
“I’m going back to the base.”
Simon looked to the side, only to find you standing there with this adorable warm smile on your perfect, kissable lips. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Johnny taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours before he raised it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it.
He definitely didn’t have the right to be upset about it. Yet, he felt a pang of jealousy, and he was maybe even offended by the way Johnny’s blue eyes shined when he looked at you. His mind was telling him it should be him, even though he knew it was against the regulations.
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said, but you just shook your head and told him he should take his time, have fun, and maybe he should talk to the others too. “You think I’m ignoring them? Well, I do spend a lot of time in the Lt’s company, that’s true,” he mused.
After he took a glance at the empty glass next to him, Simon had an idea. “I’m done for today anyway, I can go with her if you don’t want her to go alone,” he offered.
While Johnny seemed happy that he was kind enough to go with you, you looked hesitant. Unsure. Damn, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said you looked scared for a moment. But why would you be scared? He didn’t do anything that could scare you.
In the end you agreed, so the two of you were soon out on the street, walking side by side. The need to reach out and take your hand poisoned Simon’s mind, and he decided to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. He glanced over at you every so often, enjoying the view that he wouldn’t see for a few weeks at least.
“Why did you stay by my side in the infirmary while I was recovering?” he suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on you to see your facial expression.
And sure enough, at first you looked shocked. “What do you mean?” you inquired innocently.
With a sigh, Simon came to a halt and grabbed your wrist to make you stop as well. “I saw you there. And the doctor confirmed that you spent every night there with me while I was knocked out.”
“Look, it’s—”
“Why? I need to know,” he pressed on.
You buried your fingers into your hair as you spinned on your heels to turn away from him. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to be alone,” you admitted.
Once he took a deep breath, he was quick to blow it out. “So you stayed out of pity?”
“No! I mean… God, Ghost, I don’t know, okay? It just didn’t feel right to let you lie there on your own, I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and—”
He shouldn’t have done it, but it felt so good. Because Simon launched forward, his big palm placed on the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. At first you were frozen from surprise, but then you returned his kiss, lips moving against each other in perfect sync. He had been waiting for this for so long that he couldn’t even believe it was happening.
He was only pulled back to reality by your voice after you pulled away and took a few steps away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”
“It’s okay, we can always pretend it never happened,” he said with an aching heart.
“You don’t get it, do you?” When Simon shrugged and shook his head, you walked back to him and poked his chest with your index finger. “I’m with Johnny, this is totally against the rules, and no matter how badly I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you, this can’t happen again. But I know it happened and it’s going to torture me now.”
With a gulp, Simon nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he said with a sigh.
To his surprise, you put a hand on his now masked cheek, a move so gentle that he was beginning to get very confused. And when you pulled down his mask, things got even more confusing, because you stood on your toes and kissed him again. This time you let yourself go, your fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair as you moaned against his lips.
“We should get going,” you said once you let him go and pulled his mask back to its place.
“I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Instead of answering, you flashed a smile at him, making his life a living hell by playing an innocent angel. But then you curled your finger to make him come a little closer. “Neither do I. But we will have to figure it out.”
(part 3)
#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap#soap x reader#modern warfare#mw2#mw3#call of duty
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Hiii！I love your stories!!But can you write about Miguel × hybridbunny！reader？that Miguel was a rich mafia or ceo and he bought reader from a black market or an auction.（ps：make reader sit on Miguel’s desk while he works and he ended up eating her out and fcking her hehehehehhehe）🐇🐇🐇🐇
Hehehehehehehehehehe
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie
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There were many pros and cons that came with being the CEO. Unfortunally, claiming ownership of Alchemax carried far more cons than the alternative. It did not help that Miguel took over the company from his corrupt father.
There were a lot of problems that needed to be fixed. Many were within the company itself; the associates to say the least. Miguel had to fire and clean up a lot of the corrupted associates' messes. This included having Miguel silently attend a black auction market.
Turned out, one of his former coworkers who worked in genetic splicing decided to test various animals on different people. While Miguel was so focused on Spiders that created Spiderman, his stupid coworker created hybrids and sold them on the black market.
Miguel just hoped that he could save as many people as he could. The work of tracking the others down was going to be a lot harder for him.
As Miguel sat in his VIP seat with a hood on, he watched the scum below him cheer with anticipation. None of these people cared. They just wanted new trophies. Miguel was going to buy as many hybrids were auctions and try to revert them back to regular humans.
-------
Miguel was about to lose faith. The auction was at the last bid and there had not been a single hybrid. Miguel did check and this was the only black market auction in the city. It was too dangerous for there to be anymore.
"Now! What you've all been waiting for, the most popular item during our shows! A hybrid!!" The announcer cheered.
Miguel nearly gasped, leaning forward as he watched the curtains unveil, revealing you.
"We got ourselves an adorable hybrid bunny!!! You know what they say about rabbits."
Miguel ignored the sea of laughter. You were standing on stand, shaking like a leaf. Before the announcer could even start the bid, Miguel yelled out an insane number. There were gasps in the crowd and barely anyone had the guts to go higher.
And just like that, you were bought by Miguel.
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You were hesitant as you followed your new 'owner' to his vehicle. The chain and collar still tight around your neck. Once you were seated in the back seat, you flinched as your tail got caught in the belt. You had to lower your ears, not wanting to hit the roof of the car.
"My apologizes, I'll get a bigger car." Miguel apologized as he entered the vehicle. You gave him a slight glare, "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Just fuck me," You whispered.
"No," Miguel sighed as he took the collar off once the car started moving, "I'm trying to right the wrongs that the former CEO of my company did."
You touched your neck, watching Miguel very carefully. You had an inkling of where this conversation was going, and it started to make your heart and body shake.
"My name is Miguel. I have no intention of using you for any purpose, but to try and undo what Alchemax did to you, if you would let me."
"Hah, so am I the lucky test subject?"
"No. I want to find all those who were experimented on. You were the first one I saved." Miguel noticed your hesitation and offered you a bottled water, "I have a room set up for you. Anything you want or need, just let me know and I'll get it for you."
"I suppose freedom isn't an option?"
"You and I both know what will happen if I let you go."
"Yeah, I know. Just wanted to hear your answer." You scoffed and leaned forward slightly, "I actually worked at Alchemax as an assistant. I don't think it will be easy to undo my DNA now that its been changed."
"I can try."
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It had been a few months since you were bought by Miguel. It came as a surprise, but he did mean what he said. You were living comfortably and Miguel was trying his absolute best to cure you. As you guessed, nothing worked.
That didn't stop you from wanting to help Miguel with his endeavor. Miguel had even rescued a few more hybrids during your stay with him. You couldn't help but feel a little jealous that you weren't his only one now. There was a simple reason as to why you felt like that.
You fell in love with Miguel.
You wanted to believe that Miguel liked you too, but you weren't sure what was holding him back. Perhaps guilt? Needing to see him, you started to hurry to his office. Thanks to your rabbit DNA, you were a fast runner.
"Miguel? Can I come in?" You asked with a knock at his office door.
"Of course, (Y/N)." He said with a smile, opening the door for you.
Before entering, your nose caught whiff of something delicious. Sniffing around, you ended up next to Miguel. You gently gripped his jacket, sniffing against his collar.
"(Y-Y/N), are you alright? Do I smell?" Miguel cleared his throat, careful to hold you back.
"Hm? O-Oh, sorry. You just smelled really good." You laughed nervously, wondering what was coming over you.
Miguel patted your head, assuring you that it was okay. You could only feel embarrassed again. This wasn't the first time your rabbit DNA caused you to do something silly or embarrassing. You were still having a hard time getting over making a 'secret room' in the building when winter was coming.
"Want to help me with something?" Miguel offered, motioning towards his desk.
You hurried over, taking a seat on his desk as Miguel pulled out some paperwork. Since it was hard for you to sit in regular chairs due to your tail, Miguel allowed you to have a spot on his personal desk. It felt like you were a trophy for him. One you didn't mind.
"So, what are you working on?" You asked. Miguel chuckled towards you as he leaned back in his seat,
"Company business."
"So how can I help?"
"You already are," Miguel chuckled again and leaned closer towards you, "I feel better having you next to me. I'm not as stressed."
Your cheeks started to burn up at his confession. Your heart was racing and you could feel yourself getting hot. This was bad. Lately, whenever you thought about Miguel you would get into a small frenzy, needing to relieve yourself. It had to be because of your rabbit DNA.
"(Y/N), are you alright?" Miguel asked, his hand against your forehead.
"Mhm," You winced slightly, shaking from his touch alone, "M-Miguel, I should...g-go," You stuttered, finding it hard to keep yourself together.
Miguel furrowed his brows as he gave you a quick check up. He checked your eyes, noticing the glossy lustful look, then your heart rate. Miguel inhaled deeply once he finally noticed you rub your legs together and your nipples perk.
"You're in heat?" Miguel muttered lowly, glancing at your once more, "Let me take-"
"N-No, let me stay," You whined, holding onto Miguel, nibbling against his shoulder, "I-I'm only...like this because of...of you,"
"Oh," Miguel resisted a groan, gently pushing you back, "Then, I suppose I need to take responsibility for you, huh?"
Oh, how those words turned you on even more. You whimpered and moaned against his touch as Miguel took off your pants. Your panties were soaked. You swore Miguel mumbled something under his breathe, but you were so zoned out that you couldn't hear him.
Next thing you knew, Miguel had taken your panties off and laid you back against his desk. He brought your legs around his head, making sure your tail wasn't crushed under you. His head directly in front of your vagina,
"My, my (Y/N), you should have told me sooner about your little problem. I could have helped you happily,"
"B-But-Ah~ M-Miguel~" You cried out as his tongue started to swirl against your folds.
Your eyes widen and your body arched as Miguel feasted. His tongue touching you in ways that your fingers could not. His aggressive licks and swirls against your clit causing that knot inside you to grow tighter.
"Ah~ R-Right...t-there~" You moaned, crying out your orgasm.
Miguel cleaned up your mess, his tongue now threatening to enter your drenched hole. Your whimpers and moans were delicious. He wanted to hear more, but he also didn't want to take advantage of your state. Licking your insides, Miguel hummed at your sweet taste. Your legs wrapping around his head.
'Miguel~" You whined, grinding your hips slightly.
"Now, now my little bunny, if you don't behave I won't be able to control myself," He hummed, sucking against your clit.
"P-Please...f-fuck me...I need you~" You whimpered.
Miguel felt his restraints snap. He flipped you on your stomach and inserted a finger inside your cunt. Your body shock as you moaned louder than before. Miguel groaned at how your cunt sucked his fingers in.
"Does my little bunny want to be fucked that bad? Even using your tail to seduce me." Miguel huffed, using his free hand to play with your tail.
Unable to take the pleasure, you cried out another orgasm the moment Miguel touched your tail. It was so sensitive. Pressing your face against his desk, you whimpered, begging for Miguel to fuck you. You needed him. You wanted him to make you feel good.
"Alright, I'll give my bunny what she wants."
"Mhm~ Y-Yesh," You babbled.
A sharp gasp escaped your throat as you felt Miguel's dick push through your folds. His cock stretched you out and filling you so perfectly. Your body felt so hot as his tip threaten to push your cervix. You could feel his shape every time your pussy clenched around him.
"A perfect fit. My little horny bunny likes this right?" Miguel chuckled as he started to thrust his hips into you at a rough pace, "My little horny bunny going into heat because of me."
"Ah~ Mhm~ M-Miguel~"
You swore you started to lose your common sense. Miguel was pounding the life out of your cunt and the air out of your lungs. Your vision kept blurring as you just focused on the feeling of him filling you.
You gasped as Miguel lifted your hips ever so slightly. His dick hitting your g-spot with each thrust while his free hand was playing with your tail. You were losing count how many times this man was making you cum.
"Does my little bunny want me to fill her up?" Miguel leaned over you, whispering your ear,
"Mphm~"
"I can't hear you, are you too fucked out to answer?" Miguel nibbled against your ear.
You pressed your ass up, "Inside~" You begged.
Miguel complied as proceeded to fill you with his cum. He moaned lowly, giving you a few more pumps before coming to a stop. Miguel started to pull out, but heard you whine in protest. A chuckle escaped his throat as he continued to slap his hips into you.
Miguel continued to fuck you until your heat finally died out. By the end of what seemed like endless fucking, both you and Miguel were out of breathe. Miguel had you seated against his lap, resting your body against his.
You whimpered tiredly, cum pouring out of your cunt. Miguel rubbed your back, his hand nudging against your tail slightly.
"Mhm,"
"Shh, it was an accident, baby." Miguel whispered, rubbing your upper back, "You should have told me when these heats started. I can make some medicine to help you."
"You're fine," You whispered lowly. Miguel chuckled, kissing your head,
"If that's the case, then it would be easier for you to stay at my place. I have been looking for a wife,"
"Mhm...I'll gladly...take that role," You muttered tiredly.
Miguel resisted a chuckle. He waited for you to fall asleep before dressing the two of you. He had one of his assistants bring your stuff to his place as Miguel took you home. He was going to make you as comfortable as possible.
But first, you both needed a shower.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!!
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x y/n#miguel x you
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hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it
love u
love u too♡
cw death related anxiety
“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively.
Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue.
He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs.
“Where did James say he was going?”
“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?”
“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to.
“You're worrying again.”
They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do.
You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop.
James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”
James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”
Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”
“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.”
Remus holds out the phone to you.
“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?”
“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show.
“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?”
“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”
“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.”
“I do this all the time, though.”
Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you?
“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”
“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.”
“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.”
You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble.
“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”
James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.”
“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.
“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.”
#the marauders#marauders#poly marauders#poly!marauders#poly marauders x reader#poly!marauders x reader#remus lupin x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin fic#james potter fic#the marauders x reader#the marauders x fem!reader#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter#sirius black x reader implied is
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Omg please continue with the Miguel fang prompt!!! It’s too cruel to stop there!!!!!
HIDE AND SEEK
Summary: Miguel and you plays hide and seek.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Content: Hunter predator kink (I think that's what we're calling it?) anyway explicit. Miguel is a bit rough.
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
It's all too easy to get lost in the crowd in a city as crowded as New York. You slip in among a throng of tourist standing around like a flock of pecking hens, their faces dipped down at their phones, huddled over google maps as they try to figure out how to get to Broadway as if it's not within goddamn walking distance, right down the street.
In a nervous habit, you fiddle with the watch on your wrist. Your eyes flick over the bright light that tells you it's 11:28pm.
Which means, there's still 32 minutes left.
God this is the slowest hour you've ever lived through in your life.
You squeeze yourself in the back, behind a woman with a large hat and larger sunglasses, even though it's evening and the sky is near black. The only things left illuminating the sky now is glaring shop signs, aggressive LED lights, and the mega-spectacular ads display that is brighter than the goddamn sun.
Peering over the madness of the crowd, you try to spot the familiar sight of his all too recognizable build looming over everyone else.
But there's nothing.
He's not here. You let out a long held in breath, your chest sagging with relief. Of course he wouldn't be here.
Times Square has over 300,000 visitors passing through every day. 300,000 sweaty, exhausted individuals drenched in perfume and deodorant that would make it impossible to pick up your scent. Thousands of people speaking all at once, over the angry noise of honking traffic that would make it impossible, even for him, to pick up the sound of your distinct footfall.
No, He won't be able to catch you here. That's why you came here after all.
You glance down at your watch again. 11:31.
Shit! How has only three minutes gone by?
Shaking your head, you look up at the sea of people.
You'd better get moving. Even in a crowd, if you stay still for too long, it won't be safe.
Walking briskly down the wide street, it's a struggle to squeeze through the ever moving crowd as the glaring lights change from makeup ads to theater marquees. You're peering over your shoulder with every three steps you take, constantly expecting the familiar sight of his messy curls to peek out a foot above the crowd.
He's so damn tall there's no fucking way you'll miss him if he's found you. You'll get plenty of advance warning, you reassure yourself as you continue to move forward.
Your eyes settle over your watch again.
11:46. Fuck you sideways.
You know you shouldn't keep checking it every two seconds like this, because all it serves to do, is to ratchet up your blood pressure so high you're going to need to start taking medication for it.
How is time moving so slow. You shake your head in exasperation, and for a fraction of a second you swear you see it.
A flash of unmissable dark navy glowing with red.
You freeze. Your back feels like ice, cold damp sweat breaking out along your spine. You snap your eyes back but there's nothing there now. Nothing but an anonymous crowd.
What the-- How could he have just disappeared into thin air?
He's 6 feet and fucking 9 inches. Taller than your refrigerator back in your tiny studio apartment. The top of his head beats out your fucking Christmas tree. If he was here, he'd be impossible to miss. You don't fucking miss a giraffe when you visit the Brooklyn Zoo, so why are you having such a fucking hard time spotting him? How the fuck does he move so inconspicuously?
Was it just your imagination?
You glance at your watch: 11:46. Gotta be kidding. Is time standing still now? Has it just decided to stop moving altogether?
You force yourself to step forward and ignore how your knees seems to cave at your own weight as you sink into the pavement with every step.
In the corner of your eyes you spot him. Clearly this time. Real. Not a figment of your imagination. He's only a few steps away from you. The familiar pair of glowing scarlet eyes fixed on you.
Oh fuck, shit. Shit! Your heart races at the sight, beating so hard you think you feel it in your lungs. You're already sprinting in the opposite direction without thought and the only thing guiding you is the pure impulse to escape.
You push through the crowd, sprinting forward without taking in your surroundings. All you care about is to get away as your gaze is fixed on your watch.
11:52. Eight more minutes. You just need to stay away for eight more minutes.
You keep running as the crowd seems to thin, and the colorful lights and noise of traffic fades away. Then you finally stop, catching your breath to look up at your surroundings.
It's empty and void of people. A large empty van is blocking the narrow alley from view of the main street, and there's an unlocked gate that you've come through.
On the other side from where you've come from there's a tall bricked up wall as far as the eye can see-- a dead end.
How the fuck did you manage to find the only deserted dead end alleyway in central New York?
Shit you need to get out of here, you won't be able to run away if you're trapped here.
You glance one more time at your watch.
11:57. Three minutes. 180 seconds. It's all you need and then you'll win.
You turn your heel back towards the gate. But it's too late.
The dim light of the alley is eaten up by a large and imposing shadow.
He's already here.
The familiar navy blue and the menacing red sprawled across his chest fills your vision, blocking your only path to escape. All you see is red eyes glowing so bright it lights up the dark alley with it.
"Time's up," he says, mouth curled into a mocking smile so wide that you can see his fangs peek out from his upper lip.
That's when you realize you are well and fully trapped like the helpless prey you are in his spider's web. You're right where he wants you.
God you're so damn stupid. You were safe in the crowd. But one sight of him had you spooked and running into the only alley to be found in all of New York.
Shit.
He'd planned this all along. The bastard's must've been the one who opened the gate. And you had ran in here like some scared witless rabbit straight into his trap.
You could try to escape him. Some vain, silly leftover pride in you, is adamant that you still have at least two whole minutes to get away.
He steps closer, and you can't help but instinctively step back as he does.
You know it's a game. Know that he would never hurt you, but that hungry and predatory red glow in his eyes has fear spiking along your spine all the same.
"Miguel, wai--"
The rest of your futile plea dies in your throat. His broad palm covers your mouth and jaw, and even your startled squeak is muffled into silence as he presses you up against the wall.
You whimper into his hand, but he doesn't relent. Doesn't ease up, even as he leans down and hushes you. Despite the soothing tone he uses with you, it isn't comforting at all. It drips with condescension as he press his lips to your bare throat.
"I'm gonna take my prize now, nena," he murmurs into your skin and because your brain is broken, with no sense for survival instincts, every part of you tingles at the amused threat in his voice.
"You promised remembered?" he reminds you.
And of course you do. It's hard not to, when the bastard's got you pinned against a brick wall in an abandoned alley like something out of a horror movie.
Fuck. He's taken this way too seriously. You don't know why you had suggested the world's dumbest hide and seek with this competitive and unreasonable man.
He presses you into the hard brick behind you, like there's anywhere left for you to go. And you can feel it. The proof of his excitement pressing up against your stomach, pinning you against the wall. He's hard.
Any residual resentment at your loss gives way for excitement when you feel his cock twitch and jerk against you.
The edge of his teeth rests on your bare shoulder as goosebumps breaks across your skin, and you feel dizzy. Anticipation swirls in your stomach with an intoxicating warmth.
You can't fucking breathe.
His hand snakes up your dress, wedging your panties to the side, until you can hear the fabric rip and tear. Shit, you're going to kill him for that.
The thick head of his cock presses in and stretches you open, as he forces his way inside of you, in time with his sharp and whetted fangs sinking into your flesh. Electricity pings across your nerves, sweet and euphoric and you feel drunk with it.
He's filling you, inch by hard and relentless inch, until you swear you can feel him lodged in your stomach. You feel so fucking full. Full of Miguel until nothing else fits anymore, but he doesn't stop.
His cock nudges along an impossibly deep spot inside you that has you losing orientation and makes the space around you spin, and he's still not fully inside.
White blinding pleasure streaks through your every nerve and crowds your vision, as he sinks you down further on him, until your vision goes blank. He's so fucking big. Always is no matter how many times you take him like this.
Pleasure pool with heat in your stomach as he holds you in place, impaled on the thickness of him.
Your limbs go boneless, unable to hold up your own weight, and for a moment you're not sure if that's the venom released to your bloodstream or just the effect he has on you. You only remain upright because he's propping you up with his body.
His mouth skims along your throat, dragging his teeth up until his fangs tease along the shell of your ear, with the threat of sharpness. The edge of them barely graze your skin, completely unlike the feral impatience he'd sunk into you with, as he whispers into your ear.
"Found you, nena."
Dedication and credits: This piece is dedicated to @foxilayde for her utterly deranged (and amazing) post that had me SALIVATING. Thank you for putting this brainworm into my head. I am shooketh.
#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fanfic#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#oscar isaac#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse
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His little sister: Did you plan on telling?
Summary: Azriel learns of your sparring incident with Cassian and this is his point of view of the day in question.
Word count: 2.8k
Warning: probably some misspelled words
Note: Ya'll I love this back and forth between Az's and readers pov. What do you think? But things are starting to get more intense 😬😧
Ever since the night Azriel had returned with you from the summer court he was for the lack of better wording intentionally been avoiding you. It's not like he wanted to ignore you, gods no. If anything he wanted to be near you as much as possible. Rhysand never explicitly told him to stay away from you but with the intensity level of your antics increasing and the protectiveness level of your brother also increasing Azriel decided it would be the best idea so steer clear of you for at least a little while. Even though the two of you live in the same house with Nesta and Cassian he made it a point to be out of the house before you woke up and only return once he was sure you would be fast asleep.
Avoiding you wasn’t as hard of a task as one would think it would be since you tended to just roam around the house looking for something to pique your interest until you inevitably got bored and repeated the process. Not only did your free roaming habits help Azriel avoid you but he was still the spymaster of the night court and had his own duties and responsibilities to tend to. He had been gone for a week when he returned in the hours of the early morning. The sun still hadn’t begun to peak its ways over the horizon when his feet touched down on the roof. As wired as Azriel still felt from his flight back home, his body was tired. He decided to get some rest for a few hours before flying down to the river house to relay the information he obtained to Rhysand.
When he woke, the sun had finally started to bless the city of Velaris with its light and warmth. Reluctantly he began to get ready for what he was sure to be a very long day. He knew that today Cassian and himself were supposed to demonstrate fighting techniques for Nesta and the other girls but Cassian would have to figure something else out. Never did he think Cassian's new plan of action would be leaving an imprint of his fist on your face otherwise he would have shown up.
Azriel waited for his shadows to report back to him that you had made your way up and onto the roof to begin stretching with Nesta before he also made his way up to the roof so he could fly down to meet Rhysand. The goal was just to not get caught, which shouldn’t be too hard considering that he was a shadowsinger and very good at leaving places without being noticed. Just as he arrived at the top stairs leading to the unofficial training area that was the roof of the house of wind Cassian was talking about the importance of different fighting techniques.
Azirel knew that he should leave before you caught sight of him and then marched your away over to him demanding to know why he was ignoring you, ensuring that you made a big scene before all the Valkyries in training. He was sure that wouldn’t end well for him. The only answer that he could possibly give you is “Sorry, I’ve been busy.” which if he was being completely truthful was one hundred percent bullshit considering the fact that he's never been too busy for anything involving you. There have been times where he has been sleep deprived and littered with cuts and bruises and covered and blood and gods knows what and he still made time for you. He was sure that you were his fatal flaw.
His daydream was abruptly ended at the sound of your laughter. He didn’t need his superior hearing to know that you were teasing his brother. He could tell just from your body language. The tilted head, bouncy shoulders, wide smile and loose body posture that told him that you were poking fun at the general. Azriel swore he could read you better then he could read any book. He watched for just a moment longer as the two of you got into the fighting stance and began to circle each other while throwing out a few fake jabs to get ready for the real deal. As much as he wanted to stay and see you kick Cassian's ass and put him into place he also really needed to speak with Rhys so with one last look he shot off into the sky and towards his high lord and lady.
Azriel had just sat down in one of the overly large and plush chairs that decorated Rhysands office while beginning to retell the events of his latest quote unquote “adventure” as you would call it when Rhysands eyes clouded over. Someone was speaking to him mind to mind. If he had to guess, it would probably be his wife. Gods knows he did not want to know what they were talking about. A beat of silence filled the room before Rhys spoke. “It’s Cass. He wants me to go to the house.” The high lord rolls his eyes before going completely still. “What is it?” There hasn’t been many times in Azriels long history of knowing Rhysand where he got that look of dread on his face to say it was concerning was an understatement.
“It y/n” Those were all he needed to hear before both males were up on their feet in a split second and racing to the front door to launch themselves in the sky. If rhysand ever asked why he was so quick to react he would say it was because you were his friend and rhys little sister and most importantly family. And family shows up for family. Luckily Rhysand was too preoccupied with getting out of the house to notice the sheer look of concern mixed with panic on his friend's face.
There has been many times when Azriel had been faced with things that should have made his heart race and it didn’t. There were also times when he had faced things and it did make his heart race, but nothing could make his heart racing like knowing something had happened to you but not knowing what. It truly made his stomach churn and he felt like he just might throw up. And as the spymaster he has seen and done things that would make any normal fae sick to their stomach, but not once did he ever feel that way. His love for you was so overwhelming that even not knowing if you were ok could almost bring him to his knees.
The less than five minute flight to the house of wind had never felt as long as it did in that moment. He could hear the beating of both rhysand and his wings and they propelled them to Cassian's waiting figure. As soon as both males were close enough they could see Cassian pacing back and forth and Nesta cradling your head while you laid on the ground. If Azriels heart wasn’t racing before then it sure was now. Once both him and Rhys had landed it knew Rhysand was questioning Cassian as to why his baby sister was laying on the ground looking as dazed as ever. But he couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from your body. A few moments passed before Rhysand was moving towards you and both he and Cassian followed. Finally he was able to pull his eyes away from where you laid to look at his other brother with an eyebrow raised in a silent way of asking what happened. Cassian's pained shake of his head and lack of verbal or physical response was definitely starting to concern him.
As soon as Nesta removed her hand Azriel knew why Cassian didn’t answer him. The reason you were laid out flat on the ground not responding was because of Cassian. The rational part of Azriel knew his brother never meant to do his to you. He would never hurt any female let alone the one he considered a little sister who he helped raise. But the irrational part of him, the part of him that was your mate, wanted to beat Cassian to a pulp for ever thinking it was a good idea to use you for his demonstration. His eyes never left your quickly darkening bruise that was starting to blossom across your face while his mind ran through all the ways he would like to repay the favor to his brother. It took a few deep breaths for him to decide that duking it out with Cassian would look suspicious to not only Rhys but to literally everyone there so instead he focused on controlling his mind numbing anger he felt not only towards his brother but the situation he put you in. Plus somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Cassian would have to deal with Rhysand and that wouldn't be pretty either.
After pushing his very primal anger to the side he began to as gently as he possibly could, pull you into his arm. Azriel, just like Rhysand, has been on the other side of a punch Cassian can throw and just how much damage it can inflict. Whether or not he was trying to. Azriel could see the start of just how much damage you had been dealt with the fresh red, purple and dots of red where the force of the impact had popped the blood vessels in your face. The condition of your face was enough to warrant a visit to the inner circles healer. Hell getting punched by either one of the three males was reason enough to pay a visit to Madja. Once he had explained to Nesta just where he was taking you he was gentle when launching into the sky. Not wanting to cause you more pain then you were already experiencing.
The flight to Madja’s clinic was a short enough one but every few seconds he couldn't help but look down at your face and evaluate the mark left on your face. It made him want to cry. He would never forgive himself for not showing up to training this morning. Even though you may not know that he was your mate. He did. And the day he found out, the moment he found out that he was your mate he swore that he would never let anything bad happen to you. Even if that meant sacrificing his life for yours. For you he would do anything without question. If you asked him to burn down the world he would and at the end he would deliver you the ashes pressed into a diamond just to make you happy. So knowing that his choice to skip training his morning was the direct result of the concussion rattling around your head and the very badly picked colors of the autumn court decorating your cheek made him disgusted with himself.
The bell above the door of the healers clinic jingled as the Illyrian made his way inside. Usually the old fae was tucked away in some room helping with another patient but this time she was sat at the counter working with an apprentice when he entered. “Y/n?” The calm voice was coated in concern. She made her way over to where he stood in the middle of the room giving you a quick once over before beckoning for him to follow her into a room. As soon as he set you on the bed Madja was looking you over for any other injuries. “What happened to her?” As the inner circles healer Madja was used to fixing up the three males even sometimes Morrigan and occasionally Feyre but never had you become a patient of hers. “She was sparring with Cassian.” The shadowsinger didn’t need to say anything else for the fae understood exactly what that meant.
Madja was in the middle of giving Azriel different tonics and potions that would help with the injury you had sustained when Rhysand walked through the doors. “Where is she?” the high lord cut a sharp look to his brother. “She's in the room resting. The apprentice is watching over her.” Azriel watched as Rhysands eyes moved from him to the healer. “And is she ok?” Madja gave a slight nod “She will definitely have a gnarly bruise for some time and a concussion but she will live. You should be thankful that Cassian didn’t put more power behind that hit otherwise we might not be having this conversation.” Madja picked up one of the tonic bottles and gave it a little shake. “But as I was saying before you came storming in here.” After all these years Azriel knew Madja was used to the theatrics of the inner circle and that's why she paid the high lord no mind when he barged in. For her it was just another normal day.
Azriel stayed while Madja explained what each medicine did, how much to give and how often to give it. Just in case Rhys wasn’t able to do it. Not like that would happen but just in case. He stayed in the front of the clinic while Rhysand went to collect his sister. Eventually the three of you emerged into the streets of Velaris. One was holding your body and one was holding a bag of vials. He was the latter. Azriel hated the thought of Rhysand walking through the streets of Velaris with you in your current state but he also knew that winnowing would not be a good idea. So both males began the walk to Feyre and Rhysand’s house. Not a single word was said the whole walk home. Azriel pushed open the wide doors for Rhysand to fix through when Feyre appeared before him “How is she?” for a minute he didn’t respond instead he watched as Rhys walked up the stairs and turned down the hallway leading to his personal room. After Rhysand was out of his sight did he hold up the bag he was holding. “Madja said she will be fine, just in a lot of pain.” His lady let out a big breath of relief.
Rhysand still wasn’t down from his room when he was finished explaining each tonic to Feyre along with how and when to give them so reluctantly he made his exit. That was not before sending his shadows to check on you. “She's still asleep. Comfort in bed. Resting. Rhys is looking over her.” Madja had given you something for the pain and in turn it put you to sleep. There wasn’t anything he could do. Rhysand would never let him close enough to care for you. Once when you were still a child you had accident cut yourself playing with a dagger Rhysand had specifically told you not to touch and when you eventually did get hurt Rhys was the one to tend to you, not allowing either him nor Cassian to care for you. Even when he was supposed to be training. You could have a paper cut and Rhysand would not let anyone other than himself look over you. You are his baby sister after all. That job belongs to him.
Azriel knew that Rhys would keep you at the river house until you were ok enough to be flown back to the house of wind. In those few days Azriel fought of the temptation to fight Cassian every time the two males made eye contact and spent the other time looking for a mission to get away from his brother. Azriel had a feeling the murderous feelings wouldn’t subside until he knew you were one hundred percent better. So being sent out on a mission with Cassian was the last thing he wanted.
They were currently sitting by a fire when Cassian broke the silence “So when did you plan on telling us that you were y/n’s mate?” Azriel felt himself choking on the water he had been attempting to drink mere seconds ago. “What?” his coughing fit was still ongoing when he managed to squeak out the one word. “I may not be the smartest one in the group but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Azriel swore he knew gave any indication that he was your mate to anyone. Hell he barely acknowledged it himself. “I am not y/n’s mate.” Cassian's laugh rang out into the open woods before echoing into the distance. “Sure you're not that why every time you looked at me for the past week almost, you looked like you wanted to kill me. I could tell you were avoiding me. I mean you're less than happy to be here with me.” the general took a big bite of his badly cooked dinner, not even bothering to eat it before speaking again. “You can deny it all you want but I would know because that’s the same way I was with Rhys when I had just an inkling Nes was my mate.”
Taglist:
@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend
@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22
@amysangel
#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel angst#rhysand x sister!reader
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𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni
word count: 7k
summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".
warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink
a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!
part two of ravish
There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you.
However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most.
Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago.
Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.
Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting.
But alas, there’s still no sign of him.
“Dammit Joel, where are you?”
You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.
It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.
Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were.
The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest.
You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing.
You did enjoy the punishments that followed though.
A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile.
Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic.
“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch.
Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention.
It’s him.
He’s here.
His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?”
You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin.
“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock.
Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?”
“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.”
You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up.
His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down.
“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant.
“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?”
“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?”
You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.”
“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.”
“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.”
His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases.
With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door.
Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.
With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.
The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.
You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.
As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.
"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.
His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.
Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.
Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.
His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely.
“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.”
You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"
He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?”
Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass.
“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning.
“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?”
“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it.
The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.”
“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?”
He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?”
You remain silent.
“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?”
“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.”
“‘bout what?”
His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch.
“I really really like you, you know.”
“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”
You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words.
“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .”
You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?”
“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.”
“Well. . . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.”
“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly.
His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.
“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.”
“R-Really?”
He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.”
Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas.
Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?”
“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?”
“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.
“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.”
The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.
You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?”
His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.”
All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see.
“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.”
Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista.
The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless.
Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought.
Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?”
“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now?
“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn.
It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare.
“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?”
Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on.
“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible.
“I love your streams!”
“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.”
“Can I get a picture?”
Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead.
You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.”
Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star.
His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?”
“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook.
“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest.
“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?”
“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”
“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly.
Joel snarls, “Assholes.”
“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest.
“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?”
“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.”
“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?”
Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.
You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.
Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.
Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.
"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs.
You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.
"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."
He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . . know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."
You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already.
Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.”
Mine.
One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were.
Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead.
“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.”
No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.
You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop.
That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.
The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes.
His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly, showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.
"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?”
The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask.
Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood.
“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.”
His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?”
"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.
"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"
You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."
His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.”
Oh, fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.
Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling.
“Go and start the stream, honey.”
Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds.
With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.
"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."
You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree.
You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds.
“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?”
His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous.
But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.”
Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response.
A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—
His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort.
Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases.
His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back.
“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance.
He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.”
Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact.
Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue.
Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin.
Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?”
God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you.
“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.”
He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.
Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.”
His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.”
Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.”
Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.”
Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.”
“‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.”
He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.”
Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air.
“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.”
You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.
Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder. You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you.
You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling.
Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.”
Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound.
You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.
“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come.
“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor.
“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.”
“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera.
“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease.
Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off.
He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes.
You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.”
“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.”
You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead.
“Well, good thing I’m here then.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x fem!reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#webcam model!reader#joel miller au#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction
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Hi! I saw that you're taking requests, so is it okay if I ask for a spoiled city girl! Reader x country boy! Leon?
Reader's father sent reader to spend the rest of the year at her grandparents because he's had enough tolerating her. Eversince she arrived, yeah, the whole town hated her alright. Her grandparents made her do errands and shit and she'd complain and do it lazily.
Leon on the other hand- who's been hearing rumors about this girl, didn't think that she was that bad until he encountered her himself. And hell, she was way worse that bad.
Possible virgin, kinda innocent (only when it comes to ykyk) reader and brat tamer Leon?
Ignore if you're not comfortable with the idea.
🎀 cowboy!leon s kennedy x f!innocent reader 🎀
cw: smut, implied virgin reader, brat taming, sort of hate sex, p in v, oral m! recieving, v fingering, degrating, edging, light spanking
of course there was no cell service in this shithole. you groaned, falling back onto the white sheets of the squeaky bed of the guest bedroom in your grandparents house.
you had taken a gap year off of college, wanting a break and hoping to ‘find yourself’, but you just got unmotivated. your father asked you for months to find a job in the city, but you’d talk your way out of it everytime. of course, enough was enough and when the time came, he had talked to his own parents and decided to send you over to a small little farm town where they retired to, hoping to shape you up a bit. they owned a quaint farm with chickens, sheep, pigs, all a cute little older couple could ask for.
but it was your own personal hell. having to feed, clean, and even pick up after the smelly animals. at least some of them were cute. no technology to ease your mind. it didn’t help your grandparents made you drive their shitty little red truck into town once a week to get supplies, since you were so ‘nimble’ compared to them. to say the least, the whole town was not fond of a bratty city girl storming irritatingly around. refusing to do work, and even when you did, you just half assed it to get it over with.
the local townies and shop workers alike always stared when you’d walk through town with your cute little purse and skirt that rode up your thighs. it was a hot town, what else were you supposed to wear? older women having to slap their husbands when they oogled for too long at the young woman walking into the supply store. that was until you’d start an argument with another customer. they’d either be judging you or too scared to say a word. sometimes both.
in one instance, there was only one stack of bird feed left, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna be the one taking it back to the farm. that was until a prudish older lady grabbed it at the same time as you. your eyes met, challenging each-other. she put on a fake smile. “oh sorry sweetie! need this food for my little chickies at home.” her high pitched voice irritated your head. “oh that’s unfortunate, i need it for the same reason. so if you could take your wrinkley little fingers off of it that would be great.” you yanked it from her hands before she gasped.
“what a disrespectful young lady…” she mumbled, turning around to the door of the door, looking down at her hands as she left. you mumbled a quick curse at her before walking up to the register to pay. the store clerk looked a little nervous, so he rang you up in silence in fear of you lashing out at him.
this was just one of the many incidents since you got sent here.
at least you’d found new hobbies. you started going to the small library whenever you were sent into town. there wasn’t many choices, but that along with a few of your grandma’s books from her collection, you were somewhat less bored. that and you took up sketching. sure this place was boring as fuck, but you couldn’t deny that the scenery was pretty beautiful.
it’s been almost a month since you’ve been here. you silently lounged in the room you’d been staying in, reading some god awful romance novel. you heard your grandma call your name from downstairs. you sigh before getting up. “what?” you yell back, annoyed you got interrupted reading your newly picked up book. she didn’t respond, another tindge of annoyance reaching your skull.
as you walk down the creaky wooden steps, noticing the front door open to find the older woman on the front porch. you heard a deep voice chuckling from outside. walking out, you were greeted with a handsome young man. he only looked two or three years older than you, but he was tall and had a good frame. seems like doing work on a farm for years really builds up muscle. the wrinkled woman calls your name, snapping you out of your trance.
“um, what can i help you with?” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. the man gives you a smile before holding out his hand for you to shake, lowering his dark grey hat to reveal some of his dirty blonde hair underneath. “i’ve heard a lot about you miss, names leon.” his large hand extends towards you. you just eye it and roll your eyes. “hi? can i go now, nana?” you plead to the woman. she just sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder. “pop and i gotta go into town for a couple days for this chicken auction he’s been wantin’ to go to. our friendly neighbor here offered to help show you around the farm a bit. teach you a few things” she eyes you sternly.
“teach me things? i’m not twelve. i can handle myself” you retort, glaring at the tall man. he just chuckles. he had heard from around town you were feisty, but it was even better to see in person. he rests his hands firmly on his hips.
“promise i won’t get in your way, darlin’. we’re doin’ some renovations on my own house a few miles down the road. your kind grandmother here offered to let me stay in the guest house while they’re gone.” he smiles assuringly. you were annoyed. you had already spent the last thirty seconds planning on sunbathing or sitting in your room, free of any work on the farm.
“i just don’t think this is very necessary. surely you can afford a hotel?” you retort back. your grandma gives you a light smack on the back of your head. “sorry ‘bout her. not from here” she smiles kindly at the young man. you just pout. “yeah, thank god” you mumble, causing you to get another light smack.
“oh it’s no trouble at all. got myself a little cousin back home that’s a bit of a brat too.” he comments, his eyes never leaving yours. your face flushes. “excuse me? a brat? fuck off dude-“ you start. “language!” she scolds you. you mumble a small apology to her while still glaring daggers at leon.
leon just stands there, entertained by your little outbursts. he could tell you really did not enjoy being here, but he was ready to fix that. his gaze shifts down to your attire, you clearly didn't pack for working on a farm. always in cute little outfits that you'd always wear back in the city.
your grandma changed the subject, asking leon a few questions about his family and his own farm. you were lost in your own thoughts. at least you'd be stuck with a hot farmer instead of some old creep. maybe you could just fake flirt with him to get him to do all your chores for you. that should work, right?
after a few treacherous minutes of standing on the badly painted white porch, you said your goodbyes. leon gives your grandmother another respectful handshake and he just tips his hat at you while you just stare, giving a tiny wave before storming back inside.
about two days later you said your goodbyes to your grandparents, they gave you some hugs and kept repeating the list of chores they'd tasked you with. feed the chickens, take out the eggs, you really just blocked out their words from entering your head. you just smiled and nodded, waving at them as they drove off the property.
you gave a sigh of relief, leon wouldn't be here for another few hours so you thought you'd have some 'me' time. taking a long hot bath (your grandparents always got mad when you used up too much hot water), reading your romance novel while relaxing in the warm water. your cheeks flushed at a certain scene in the book. you didn't expect the library to carry a literal smut book. the main male character in the novel was going down on the pretty girl, the writing made your stomach churn in arousal. you'd never read anything so... descriptive before.
right before you could turn to the next page when things were getting more hot and heavy, there was a heavy knock on the door. you jerk up from your laying down position in the bath and sigh, leon was early. you lay your book upside down so you wouldn't loose your place, wrapping a small towel around your figure before fully stepping out, draining the bath. another knock and a familiar voice calling your name. "you home?" he calls. "yeah, hold on!" you scurry around, cursing yourself for not laying out clothes beforehand.
you carefully step downstairs and opening the front door, peeking out. leon had a duffel bag with him with his things in it. "um, yeah?" you say, trying to hide your toweled figure behind the door. he smiles. "just need the key to the guest house, darlin." oh right. you nod, grabbing the key hanging near the door and hand it to him, your fingers brushing slightly, making your cheeks heat up. before he could open his mouth to speak, you shut the door on him unremorsefully. "thanks." he chuckles out, turning to make the walk to the guest house about a hundred feet away from the main house. and of course you were the one who had to clean it up before he got here.
after putting on your favorite outfit and boots, you make your way back downstairs for some water. sipping from the clear glass cup, you notice leon outside the window. he was already getting familiar with the animals. he looked good in his light blue button up shirt, it really brought out his eyes. the way he had rolled up his sleeves so his veiny arms were on display. he was squatted down next to the new baby sheep and was petting her. you pouted, she didn’t even let you pet her. you sigh, placing your glass down before making your way outside.
leon’s head perks up as he notices you walking twords him. he gives you a charming smile, standing up from the baby sheep. you speak first. “she lets you pet her? everytime i come near she yells at me.” you cross your arms at the man. he looks back down at the small animal who gave you an angry look, running off somewhere. “you gotta' know how to approach em’. plus they sense your vibes” he adds, his eyes back on you.
“my vibes, huh? what’s that supposed to mean, mister?” your eyes squint at him, a hint of irritation in your eye. he doesn’t feed into your attitude. “leon” he corrects you.
“leon” you repeat. the way his name sounded rolling off your tounge made his lips quirk up in a small smile.
“now-“ he starts, grabbing a nearby bag and handing it to you. “- better start on those chores, hmm?”. you glare at him, scoffing. “you’re joking.” you retort. he just shakes his head.
“i’m here for a reason, darlin’. best get to work so you can get it over with faster.” he shoves the bag in your arms and you give him your best puppy dog eyes. “c’mon leon. you’re so big and strong, i’m sure you’d get it done a lot faster than me.” you bat your eyelashes at him. he seemed gullible enough to seduce. he just chuckles. “nice try, you’re cute” he says, walking off to leave you to your chores. you groan. “fine…” you mumble, walking off to to collect the chicken eggs.
over an hour later, you lie in the green patch of grass, playing with your nails. pouting that cleaning the coop made you chip one. you’d finished majority of your chores, hoping it was enough to get leon off your back. whenever you’d start to walk away from a task, he’d appear to show you what you did wrong and how to improve. you wanted to punch his pretty face.
you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard a deep voice approach you. “takin’ a break?” he says, standing over you. you sigh, not even bothering to look up at him. “i finished for today. i’ll do the rest tomorrow or something.” you continue playing with your nails, still annoyed.
he crosses his arms over his strong chest. “you’re quite the lazy girl, y'know that?” you just scoff. “whatever, asshole” you spit back.
“you got a bit of a mouth on you, don’t ya’?” he squats down so he’s level with you. you finally turn to him, glaring. you angrily stand up, dusting yourself off before gasping. “fuck!” you yell, looking down. your favorite skirt had stains of grass and dirt on them. you didn’t realize the grass was wet before you sat down on it. “are you serious?! this is so gross!” you try wiping the stains off, but only making it worse by spreading them around. you notice leon laughing at you. you turn to glare daggers at the now standing man.
“what the hell is so funny?” your face has annoyance all over it.
“c’mon, let me help you get those stains out, sweetheart. wouldn’t want such a pretty skirt to be ruined” he starts to walk twords the guest house.
“i’m not your-“
“you want that skirt clean or not?” he sighs. you silently nod, following behind him. he opens the door to the clean little house, holding it open for you and shutting it once you were both inside. it was surely nicer than the place you were staying in. a big bed against the wall and a little kitchen table. you remembered staying in here with your father when you visited as a kid. you loved it here back then.
he sets his hat on the counter, finally giving you a full view of his parted hair. he was even more handsome without the hat. he caught you staring and you quickly look away.
“gotta' take the skirt off so i can run it in the wash for you before the stains seep in.” he says, leaning against the counter with his large arms crossed over his broad chest. your eyebrow quirks. “um, i’m not doing that”. he gives you a questioning look. “i’m not wearing anything under…” you add. you only wore your panties under, not wanting to ruin the outfit with ugly shorts. he sighs. a thought flickers in his mind of you taking your skirt off, your pretty ass on display for him.
“fine. you can borrow some of my sweats.” he walks over to his bag of clothes, rummaging through until he pulls out a pair of plaid blue pajama pants. you scoff. “these are ugly as fuck, this is gonna ruin my outfit.” you hold up the pants. they were way too big for you. but they smelled like him. woodsy and a hint of pine. he steps a little closer to you. “if you’d rather let that pretty little skirt get ruined, then be my guest.” he says. you have to crane your neck to look up at him. you sigh, taking your shoes off. “you could just change in the bathroom, you know.” he comments.
“well you could also just look away, pervert.” you say, carefully setting your boots on the floor. he puts his hands up in defense, turning and walks somewhere across the room. “y’know, some day that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.” his voice is lower now, more serious than before. you roll your eyes, shimmying yourself out of your little skirt. “fuck off. you’re not my father.” you bite back, pulling the loose pants over your hips. “these are too big…” you say, holding the pants up or else they’d fall to the ground. he turns and walks up to you, inches away. he grabs the drawstrings, tightening them so hard that you let out a barely audible gasp.
your eye’s focus on his hands. the way they tied the strings perfectly, patting your hip once he finished. “better now?” he asks, looking down at you. you didn’t say a word, just nodding. he smiles. “no words for me from the mouthy girl?” he says. you huff.
“you don’t know anything about me, leon.”
“i know enough. i know you’re an entitled little brat who needs to be put in her place.” he whispered, leaning into your ear. his hot breath left chills down your neck. you could feel your nipples harden against your top. his arms trapped you against the counter.
your eyes finally pull to his, almost magnetically. “what’s your story then, pretty? refusing to work so your daddy kicked you out?” he guesses. you stay silent. he was right.
“what happened to that little mouth of yours? got nothin’ to say now?” he teases, leaning twords your face. fuck, he knew how to shut you up.
“you- i-“ you stutter, unable to respond. he just smirks. his hand slipping to your waist. “you talk all this shit, but can’t handle it comin’ back to you, can you?” god it was almost like he was getting off on seeing your flustered face.
“fuck you-“
“watch your fucking mouth, princess” he practically growls. his grip on your waist only tightens, making you almost whine. his demeanor completely changing from his lighthearted charming self. you felt yourself getting wet from his words alone.
“or what?” you spit back.
“you wanna find out?”
that’s how you ended up with your shaky knees, pressed against the hardwood floor, leon’s big veiny cock sitting right in front of your eyes. his hand was in your hair as your hands nervously reach out to stroke him. he could tell you were inexperienced.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, looking down at you as your small hand wraps around the base of his large cock.
“i don’t- i’ve never-“
“never had a cock in your mouth?” he asks. you just shake your head nervously. he pulsed at the thought of being the first man to be inside of you.
“ever even kissed someone?” he tilts his head.
“just once…” you pout. you were getting tired of his teasing. he just gives your hair a light tug, making you whine. he uses his other hand to bring his thumb to your bottom, dragging it down. you respond, opening your mouth to suck on his thumb. he presses it into your tongue, you swirl your wet muscle around his finger. “good job, see? you got it” he encourages. he removes his thumb, a trail of spit between your lips and his finger.
“now just open your pretty lips…” his hand cups your jaw, you open your mouth. he slides the tip into your hot mouth before hissing. “no teeth, darlin’.” he warns. you nod, taking him deeper. only halfway in and you’re choking around him. he groans at the way your throat contracts around him.
“fuck, you’re a natural slut, aren’t ya?” he grips your hair, moving you up and down his cock. you whine around him, the vibrations sending more pleasure straight to his dick. he abuses your throat and mouth, watching you as tears well up in your eyes. “look at you. your mouth is so much better around my cock.” he lets out another groan when you suck your cheeks in, sucking him off completely.
“think you can swallow all my cum? or are you too good for that, princess?” his voice was horse and low. you just nod, a tear falling from how deep you were taking him. he curses as his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting his hips to meet with your head. your nose burried in the base of his pelvis. you shut your eyes tight as you feel his warm release down your throat. after a few more thrusts, he pulls out a bit of a mix of cum and spit falling from your mouth. he cups your face. “swallow it.” you gulp, licking your lips and swallowing everything he gave you. you open your mouth to show him.
“such a good little slut, yeah?” he soothes your hair, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes. your cunt was throbbing with need. you look up at him through wet lashes, your mascara was probably running down your face by now. he grabs your arm to help you stand up. your legs were wobbly and hard to stand on. your panties were probably soaked at this point.
your eyes go to his lips and his smug gorgeous face. “you want a kiss?” he asks, you nod. he just chuckles. “too bad” he says, making you whine.
“leonn” you grab onto his shirt, pleading. he just shakes his head. “you need to learn how to be patient, gorgeous.” he warns, grabbing your wrists. “you and that fucking attitude. gotta do somethin’ about that.” his eyes grow darker.
he had a strong grip on your wrists, firm but gentle enough not to break you. it made you shiver knowing how easily he could. fuck it was hot. “i’m gonna fuck it right out of you. got that?” his head lowers to suck marks into your neck and collar bones, making you groan. he bit down in a particularly sensitive spot, making you cry out his name. he pulls away dragging you to the bed. “lay down on your stomach” he commands. your eyes grow wide, about to object until his brows furrow. you lie down on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge.
you turn to look at leon over your shoulder, yelping when he drags you so your legs hung off the edge of the bed. he quickly pulls the string of your his pants before ripping them down your legs. you gasp at the cold air hitting your bare legs, your panty clad ass on display for him. he gives it a good smack, making you give another yelp into the sheets.
“you’re fuckin’ soaked through your panties. i’ve barely even touched you” he gives a small laugh before pulling your white panties off. his large skilled fingers run through your folds, making you squirm.
smack
“stop moving”
he admired the large hand print he left on your ass, feeling his dick harden again. he started with pumping one finger into your tight little hole, making you gasp. it hurt for the first few seconds, but eventually faded into throbbing pleasure. you let out mewls of enjoyment, crying out into the sheets below you as he jackhammered his finger into your sopping cunt, adding another finger to stretch you out.
“ohmygod leon!” you cry, muffled by the blanket. you’d never felt absolute overwhelming pleasure like this before. it was fucking addicting.
his fingers curled inside of you, hitting a spot that made your belly fill with a hot pleasure. you were so close, so fucking close. right when you were about to cum, he pulls his fingers out.
“leon!” you yell, looking back at him.
“told you i was gonna teach you how to be patient, didn’t i?” you wanted to wipe that smug ass smirk off his face.
you were practically drooling onto the sheets. tears falling down your face as leon edged you for the fifth, sixth time? you’d lost count after the third. “fuck leon! please please please let me cum, m’so close please!” you cry into the bed, resorting to begging. your attitude thrown out the window whenever he curls his fingers inside of you.
“since you asked so nicely…” his thrusts his fingers at a delicious speed, fucking you until you cried out his name. you clenched around his fingers, gripping onto the sheets as your vision blurs. his fingers fuck into you as you cum, coating the sheets and his hand.
“look at you. fuckin' dripping down my wrist.” he groans. he flips you so you’re on your back. you were panting, mascara completely running down your cheeks and a fucked out look on your face. he brings his fingers to your mouth and you immediately open them for him, licking yourself clean off his hand.
“that’s my girl” he praises, making you tingle. you were still coming down from your high, staring at him blissfully. his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. you watch his expression through your lashes.
“you’re so much prettier with your mouth filled.” he smiles, leaning over you. “i think you deserve that kiss now, don’t ya think so?” he asks. you nod. “yes please”
his mouth meets yours in a hot feverish kiss. his hand coming to grip your hair. he bites your lip hard enough to make you gasp. your pussy throbs with need of being filled by him. “leon, please” you beg through the kiss. he pulls away, looking at you.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he kisses down your jaw.
“i-i need you inside, please!” you beg, looking down at your bare cunt.
“aww, you just want my cock so bad, hmm? who am i to deny such a slutty girl what she wants.” he sits up, dragging his long cock up and down your wet folds. when his head caught on your clit, it made you shiver. he teases you, catching his tip on your hole before rubbing up and down again. you whine. he gives you a stern look.
“m’sorry” you pout. he chuckles, slowly dipping his thick head into your tight hole. he eased himself in, making your jaw slack open. once he was fully seated into you, your brows furrowed at the stretch. “hurts, s’too big!” you cry out. he tsks.
“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he pulls out just to push himself back into you with a powerful thrust. “fuck, you’re sucking me in, baby. must be so worked up. is this why you’re such a bitch all the time? never gotten dicked down properly?” he teases as he thrusts in and out of your abused pussy.
you mewl when his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, but it wasn’t enough. he sensed your need, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders to thrust even deeper into you. the angle made you scream out. your fingers grip into the sheets again. one of his hands find your clit, pinching it.
“y’feel so fucking perfect. like you were made for me.” he groans, loosing his composure. his thrusts got more intense, faster, and sloppier. but still felt heavenly. the mix of his cock hitting your soft spot along with him playing with your clit, you squeeze around his cock, about to cum. drool fell from the corner of your mouth as your tits bounced in your shirt as you came closer and closer to the edge.
“gonna-gonna cum!” you scream. he only goes faster.
“gonna cum with you, baby. bein’ so fucking good for me.” he gets more vocal when he’s closer to cuming. he didn’t know what felt better, your hot mouth or your hot tight pussy. there was sweat dripping down his neck. you wanted nothing more than to lick it up, but didn’t dare move in fear of him not letting you cum. he was in full control. with a few final thrusts, you finish around him with a loud moan. he follows suit, his hot seed filling you to the brim.
you are both panting at this point, but he’s still half hard inside of you. you look at him with heavy, confused eyes when he doesn't make a move to pull out.
“oh, we’re not done until you’re begging me to stop, pretty girl.”
“wow! this place looks amazing! you guys did a great job around the farm!” your grandma smiles at the handsome young man. he gives her his classic innocent charming smile.
“can’t take all the credit, m’aam. your granddaughter did most of the work.” his strong hands rested at his hips.
“how in the world did you get her to do that!?”
you watch from the porch, wearing a sweater to cover all the marks leon had given you. everytime you’d complain about a task, he’d bend you over and fuck you until you were crying for him to stop at the overstimulation.
the older woman called you over to have you help with leon’s bag. you sigh, walking over as she walked away to talk to her husband.
“you still never gave me my panties back…” you lean against his truck, looking up at him. he chuckles, running a hand down your arm.
“think of it as your parting gift to me, darlin’” he says, giving your arm a squeeze before shouting a goodbye to your grandparents and giving you one last wink and a tilt of his hat before stepping into his truck.
maybe this town isn’t too bad….
masterlist
a/n: i got a little carried away with this i just loveddd this prompt. tysm for this request!!!
#x reader#reader insert#smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#resident evil smut#leon smut#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy#leon resident evil#re4 leon#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy fanfiction
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𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄
summary: attempting long distance makes it clear to you and jamie that you need each other
warnings: loneliness, sad jamie, kissing, tiny bit of cursing
word count: 1.19k
Jamie was sprawled out on his bed in his cramped apartment in Philadelphia, staring blankly at the empty walls. He hadn’t decorated yet, let alone had the proper furniture. His bed was simply a mattress on the floor, his coffee table doubling as a kitchen table.
Jamie had been in Philly for about a month now. You’d think a month was enough to adjust to a new city, and while he had settled into a routine and gotten comfortable with all of the city’s quirks, something still felt off.
It was you. He missed you deeply. Your laughter, your presence, your comfort. You were his anchor. But you were tied to your job over 2,000 miles away in Anaheim. You guys had discussed this before he left, that 3 months wasn’t that long and you could withstand it. Then, at the season's end, you’d talk about your future together.
However, here you both were, on opposite sides of the country, distance putting a strain on the both of you.
Jamie did his normal pre-game routine with you on his mind. He thought of the fact that you were probably at work right now, wrapping up final tasks, before heading home and putting on the Flyers game. It was a miracle he found someone as supportive as you, willing to put up with the long days and stress that being a professional athlete could bring.
Each game he played knowing that when he got home he wouldn’t be coming home to you made them harder and harder. The facetimes and calls were not enough anymore and the strain on Jamie was starting to show in his gameplay. Today’s game was horrible. Jamie was benched for almost the entire third after he gave up 3 separate turnovers. Amidst the rowdy Philadelphia crowd, upset that their team was losing, his mind wandered to you. It was always you.
Jamie kept to himself while getting changed and showering, truly wanting to go home just to call you. After an unbearable 5 minutes with the media, Jamie trudged out of the locker room, shoulders slumped and spirits in the basement. Walking down the hall, Jamie feels an arm hook around his shoulders.
“Why the long face?” Cam asks.
Jamie shrugs off Cam's arm, his mind still reeling. "Just had a rough game, man. Ready to get out of here."
Cam flashes him a sly, knowing grin. “It’ll pick up soon, bud.” He says.
Jamie ignores his teammates' words, continuing down the halls of the Wells Fargo Centre. As he turned the bend, greeted by a myriad of voices, there you were.
Jamie could’ve sworn he was seeing things, maybe reaching a point of delusion. But there you were, standing with his teammates' girlfriends. Jamie’s heart lifted upon seeing you, the weight of a thousand worlds falling behind him as he headed straight for you. When he reached you, his arms enveloped you in a tight embrace.
The world around him fades away leaving only you two suspended in this moment. His touch is firm yet gentle, a silent declaration of his need for your presence, your comfort.
“Hi, James.” You say softly into his chest. Your delicate tone nearly sends Jamie over the edge, the reality of everything catching up to him, tears threatening to prick at his eyes.
“Hi, baby.” He says softly. You guys stay there for a few more moments before you force Jamie to walk to his car with you.
Deciding you had so much to talk about, Jamie drove you to a park to walk around while you guys spoke. You intertwined your fingers with Jamie's, drawing strength from the reassuring warmth of his touch. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the struggles you had endured during your time apart.
“So, what are you doing here?” Jamie asks, his grin having still not faded since first seeing you.
“I had to see you…” You tell him. “So I took two weeks off.”
“You did what?” Jamie asked.
“Jamie, I missed you so much, it was almost unbearable.” You confessed, your voice conveying the pain it had truly caused you. “With the time difference and our weird, conflicting schedules… I had to come and see you.”
Jamie's expression softened, his gaze filled with empathy as he listened to your words. He understood all too well the pain of separation, the relentless tug of loneliness that pulled at his heart with every passing day.
“Y/n, I missed you too. I’ve been fucking miserable.” Jamie said, a small chuckle escaping as he recounts the past couple of days. “It's like… no matter how many times we talk on the phone or text each other, it's never enough. I need you here with me, physically, emotionally… I just…”
Jamie suddenly stops walking, turning to face you.
“Marry me.”
The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before he knew it, the both of you sharing the same shocked reaction to his words. The unexpected proposal makes you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Despite them being blurted out, Jamie knew that they were real feelings.
“W-what?” You ask. It felt as though time stood still as you processed his words. Jamie takes both of your hands in his, his eyes glimmering.
“I’m serious. Marry me.” He says again. “These last couple of months have been…fucking hell on earth. I’ve been miserable. And for a while, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. At first, I thought it was the lack of sun… or maybe it was taking me a little longer than I thought to adjust to a new city. But it was you. I couldn’t bear not having you with me.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, jaw open slack as you were processing his words.
“I want you here in Philly, with me. And whatever it takes.” Jamie says. “You can get another job here, in Philly, I’m sure the guys of their wives have connections here and they could help. Or don’t work! I can support you, I don’t care. What I’m trying to say is-”
You cut off Jamie’s rambling, pressing your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. Your lips melded together, picking up as if you had never been separated. As you parted, a small smile graced your lips. Jamie’s eyes scanned your face, desperate to read what you were thinking.
"Yes," you said, your voice steady with resolve. "Yes, I will marry you. And yes, I will come live with you in Philadelphia. We can figure everything else out later.”
Jamie let out a huff of relief before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you above the ground. You squeal, your laughter ringing like a melody in Jamie’s ears.
“Oh my god, I have a wife!” Jamie cheered loudly.
He leans down pressing a kiss to your lips, holding you close once again. As you held each other close, the weight of loneliness lifted from Jamie's heart, replaced by the comforting certainty of your presence.
“I love you so much.” Jamie whispers against your lips.
#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale imagine#philadelphia flyers#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl#flyers hockey#hockey#hockey imagine
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Just For Tonight (Valentines Special)
Rating: NSFW, mdni
Type: Longform
Tags: Fake dating, no use of pronouns for reader, messy kissing, pretending to be in a relationship, making out, Reigen being a cheapskate, flirting, riding, fingering, PIV sex, glasses!reigen
Word count: 9630
My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!
There's a nice new sushi place in town. It's a shame they're only offering discounts for couples....
“Valentine's day is a total scam,” declares Reigen, feet kicked up on his desk and lounging in his desk chair. “It’s so lame.”
It’s 5PM on a Wednesday afternoon and work is drawing steadily to a close. You’re filing the last few pieces of paperwork for today, tidying up your things before you head home for the evening, and all you’ve done is ask if any of your colleagues are doing something nice tonight for the lauded day.
In his typical fashion, however, Reigen has seized the opportunity to launch into a pointless spiel about his one-sided beef with made-up events and how much he doesn’t buy into them.
“It’s a capitalistic concept invented to sell cheap, poor quality products marked up by like, five hundred percent, to dumb idiots that are so blinded by love that they’ll part with cash hand over fist just to prove how much they allegedly care about someone,” Reigen yaps away. “Don’t people care about the integrity of love? People should show how they feel every day, not just when society tells them they have to. It’s a dumb holiday. It’s stupid. Totally ridiculous.”
“I heard that fancy new sushi place is doing half off for couples,” says Ekubo, floating aimlessly past your head.
“Half off?” says Reigen without missing a beat. “For real?”
You roll your eyes from behind your laptop and click it shut. Trust him to only care when he can save a few Yen.
“Yeah,” Ekubo yawns. “I was gonna go down there and haunt a few couples. Y’know, spoil their day or whatever.”
“Nice,” you snort, wafting the spirit away from your face. “That doesn’t scream bitter at all.”
Ekubo grins. “Gotta make entertainment somehow, honey. You have no idea how boring it is to be dead.”
It’s hard to look disapproving when you’re laughing but you shoot him a look anyway.
Reigen snatches his feet off of the desk and sits up straight, his chair creaking with the abrupt motion. He taps away on his PC, lightning fast, and makes a sound of interest. “Holy shit,” he says. “Looks like you’re right. Half off food and drink.”
Ekubo ignores him and turns his attention to you. “Any plans?”
You shake your head. While you’d rather not give him the satisfaction, you partly agree with Reigen. The holiday is a made up scam; almost every restaurant and bar in the city ups its prices under the guise of special dinners and intimate drinks, filling their windows with hearts and flowers and corny banners about love.
Being single on Valentine’s is even worse. No one wants to go out alone and the commiseration prize for being so is a condescending offering of dating events and pathetic ‘self love’ bullshit. It's unbearably sad and you'd rather drink a bottle of wine alone in the bath than be seen to engage in any of that shit.
Still, the thought of spending it with someone you have feelings for is, in theory, very attractive. It's just a shame the only person you want is sat two meters away and very much not interested in doing anything of the sort.
Bottle of wine in the bath it is, you think.
Once everything is packed up, you wish them both good nights and make your excuses to leave. Reigen lets you go without even looking up from his laptop and you decide that tonight, more than one bottle might be needed.
♡
At six thirty, just as you pour your first glass, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You pick it up and flip it open, hoping this isn't going to be a late night call to come in to work even earlier tomorrow morning.
[Reigen] - are you free?
You stare at the message and another one comes in straight afterwards.
[Reigen] - obviously you are.
That’s a little hurtful but it’s not like he’s wrong. Why? you message back.
Three dots show up as he types, then they disappear, then return, and after a few minutes another message buzzes through.
[Reigen] - Emergency, meet me ASAP.
He pings through an address in the City and briefly, you're worried that he might be in trouble. The office diary hadn't listed any out of hours clients for tonight and it would be unlike Reigen to take a job that he couldn't handle alone; Serizawa is at night school this week to cram for exams and Mob is busy with his friends, so nothing is due to come up.
Another text comes through.
[Reigen] - and wear something nice.
You have absolutely no idea what he means by that, however if Reigen says it's an emergency then you'll never forgive yourself if you leave him high and dry. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt.
Must be a posh client, you think. Last minute demands for your presence are usually related to a high paying job, so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he needs you to butter up a stuffy customer and show off some leg to make a sale. It wouldn’t be the first time and you usually get a good commission for your troubles. It’s easy money.
Sighing, you screw the cap back on your wine bottle and down the half-full glass in record speed.
It’s better than moping about alone.
♡
You make it there in thirty minutes, give or take. The short notice gives you just enough time to make yourself presentable, pick out an outfit and make it into the city, yet by some stroke of luck you manage to catch the last train into central.
The address isn’t far from the office and with a brisk pace, you make it in good time. It’s busy out here tonight. It’s hardly unexpected. You’re in the food district on a major holiday, throngs of people are wandering through here at the best of times.
What is, however, is the sight that greets you when you arrive at the map’s marked location.
Reigen is standing outside a dimly lit restaurant, browsing his phone in one hand and clutching a lush looking bouquet of roses in the other. You almost walk right past him, he's unrecognisable without his usual suit and tie; he's dressed in navy slacks and a perfectly white dress shirt, silver glasses on the end of his nose and hair styled nicely. He looks good.
“Reigen?” You ask, approaching him warily.
At the sound of his name, he glances up from his phone briefly to see who’s asking and double takes. He looks a little surprised to see you and you have to admit that you feel similarly.
“Oh,” he says, looking you up and down. “You made it.”
“Where’s the emergency?” You frown, looking past him to search for awaiting clients.
Reigen clears his throat and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the restaurant. “Here.”
There are no concerned looking people waiting around behind him. In fact, the entire place looks to be filled with couples who are anything but. You glance between him and the shop front again, and wait for him to expand on why you’re here.
Reigen stares back at you for a moment and then proffers the bouquet. “Here,” he says, a little flushed in the face. “You like flowers, right?”
You stare at him, clearly confused, but you take them from him all the same. They’re roses, deep red and freshly cut, tied together in layers of pink paper that rival the colour on his cheeks. You have to admit, they're lovely.
“What are these for?” You ask, laughing. “Where are the clients? You said there was an emergency.”
Reigen looks slightly guilty and you realise, after a moment, that there isn’t any client. No one needs your help and there doesn't appear to be any spirit floating around to cause bother. Now that you think about it, the front of this place seems vaguely familiar and when you look again, you realise he’s totally played you.
“This is that fucking sushi place, isn’t it?” you sigh, shifting the flowers into the crook of your arm. If what Ekubo had said is true, it’s not like you’re going to get to take advantage of the discount he so desperately wants. “Reigen, we're not exactly….” You gesture between you both and the words that go unsaid are obvious: ‘a couple’.
“Look, they’re doing fifty percent off the whole menu!” Reigen launches into his reasoning and you can tell he’s practised it. “It’s just for tonight, and we don’t have to do anything except look like we are, right? They won't know any different!” He pouts slightly for good measure and you hate that it works so well on you. It always does. “Plus, they sell that swanky shrimp shit and I really wanna try it…. Please?”
The flowers suddenly make sense.
“Are you asking me to date you for the night?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The concept is hardly unappealing. Reigen is cute and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Well, thinking about it and dreaming about it are two very different things and the little candle you hold for him has only been getting bigger over time.
You’ve kept it quiet for the most part; the only person in the office that has any vague idea is Ekubo. He’s perceptive enough to have caught you looking when no one else is and although he's sworn to keep it a secret, you suppose if he isn't around then you can get away with playing things off as pretending.
He shrugs, unabashed in his request.
“Ugh,” is all you say and it's the vague confirmation he needs.
Reigen grins.
He drags you into the restaurant, hand wrapped around your wrist, and announces to the waiter that's taking stock of the visitors that he's booked a table for two. The waiter looks from Reigen, to you, to where he's holding you tightly by your arm.
“Tonight's dinner is for couple's, sir….” He says, looking unconvinced.
Reigen wilts slightly, letting go out of you and gesturing towards the flowers in your arms. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “We are.”
The waiter regards you both with suspicion and Reigen visibly prepares himself to argue with the guy. If you're honest, you'd really rather not cause a scene in an establishment like this by allowing him to fight with the first member of staff he comes into contact with.
The restaurant is clearly not made for people like the two of you: it's modern and luxurious, filled with mahogany and crystalline chandeliers, and all the staff look like they've smelled something unsavoury. It's clearly an upper-class joint.
Still, you think it might be nice to take advantage of an opportunity like this and you don't really want to spend tonight by yourself. Besides, you'll never hear the end of it if this gets screwed up and frankly, pretending to be on a date with him is probably as close to the real thing as you're going to get.
Reigen opens his mouth and you take his hand before he can get himself in trouble, slipping his arm around your waist and leaning into his side. He stiffens, looking at you in surprise, but you ignore him in favour of giving the waiter your best loving smile and lean into him.
Reigen smells like musky aftershave and something that’s distinctly him, and it makes your mouth water. “He's just shy,” you laugh, laying it on thick. “Of course we're a couple.”
It's important that you sell the idea first, Reigen had told you after you'd floundered a sales pitch once. Convince them even a little bit and the rest of it sells itself.
The advice is sound enough and you decide that the situation calls for a little more manipulation in order to close the sale and get the fucking stupid shrimp your boss wants. If nothing else, this'll teach him a lesson for tricking you into things. You press a chaste, but decent, kiss to the corner of his mouth and shoot the waiter a look that you hope conveys how much a couple in love would definitely do something like that.
You can feel your body warm up and you will yourself to stay relaxed, hoping your face doesn’t show how silly you really feel.
Reigen isn’t doing as good a job at running with things and he laughs, a little manic and high pitched. He mumbles something about you being right and gingerly squeezes your waist.
The waiter sighs and gestures for you to follow, apparently adequately persuaded.
When you risk a glance at Reigen, he's alarmingly red and slightly sweaty. All of the argumentative energy has left his sails and he seems rooted to the spot, unable to meet your eyes.
It's more than a little entertaining. You slip out of his half embrace and take his hand, having to drag him along in the wake of the waiter when it becomes clear that he’s forgotten how to move independently. “This better be the best fucking sushi I've ever had,” you warn him, but it's hard not to smile when he almost trips over his own feet on the way to the table.
♡
The meal is otherworldly.
It's a testament to how the other half live. You've never had seafood like this before and knowing you probably won't have it again seems to make it all the sweeter. Everything is ten times better than the usual places you go.
Reigen lets you order whatever you want, provided it’s on the discount menu, obviously, and he even shares some of his fancy shrimp with you. Not much, but some.
The atmosphere is nice, too. Admittedly it's very romantic, candle lit and dark, and you suppose that is rather the point of it all. The lights stay low, the music is soft, and even the sushi arrives arranged into cute little hearts.
Your company is even better. Reigen has taken you out to eat before but usually he drags you to a cheap ramen place on the way home from work, and he always makes for entertaining companionship. This, though, is new. You've never actually gone out with him for a proper dinner and the entire time you sit across from him, you can't stop the way your stomach flutters at the thought of spending time like this together. It's silly, really.
It's not like this is a real date, after all. You don’t want to push the boat too far. There’s no sign that he actually feels any way about you beyond needing your compliance for his plan and you don’t want to make an idiot of yourself by getting too into it all.
You're halfway through sharing a round of nigiri when you realise Reigen is holding your hand. You're not sure how you missed him do it to begin with. After you'd sat down to eat, Reigen had been quick to keep himself to himself. The rosy tint to his face had stayed for a long time after your little over the top display and you had assumed he’d been too embarrassed to try something similar again.
Except halfway through dinner, you realise that his fingers are laced with yours as he laughs about a comment Mob had made the day before and he seems completely oblivious to the way his thumb is stroking over your knuckles.
You don't intend to mention it. It feels nice and you can't deny how enjoyable it is to play pretend like this with him, except he must catch your line of sight because he hums into his water glass, starting like it's also the first time he's noticed it, and starts to untangle himself.
“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn't-”
“I don't mind,” you say immediately. You're not sure what makes you blurt it out, but you tighten your grip to prevent him from backing off and surprisingly he gives in with no resistance.
He glances up at you, taken aback, and you try to clarify your meaning with only the tiniest of white lies. “The waiter already thinks we're making it up,” you say hurriedly. “We should probably keep it up until we leave, right? I’m not getting stuck with the full bill.”
Reigen raises his brows, seemingly astounded that you're not horrified by the concept of holding his hand, and he nods quickly to hide the expression. “Good idea,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours again. “Just for a bit longer.”
The hand holding lasts for more than just a bit. Even when you eat, neither of you let go of one another and no one mentions it. Sushi is easy to eat with one hand anyway, so it’s unobtrusive and easily forgotten. In fact, it’s oddly natural.
As the evening ticks on, you both relax enough that you start to forget that you’re supposed to be acting like you’re totally in love. It’s easy to get on with Reigen. You’ve always played off of each other well and this doesn’t feel any different to how you always behave around each other.
Beyond the handholding and the way his knees bump against yours under the table, you could be anywhere with him right now and you’re not sure you’d notice the change.
You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the situation.
The menu extends to several good wines and some specialty cocktails too, and in spite of the fact that you’re both scheduled to work tomorrow, you’re not shy about indulging. A single glass for you becomes another and even Reigen takes a risk on a second cocktail once he realises they’re serving something with citrus and fizz in it.
By the end of dinner you’re both getting on for being tipsy. Reigen begs off halfway through, a lightweight as usual, and relinquishes his for you to finish instead. It's probably for the best. His face is turning a pretty pink as he leans forward on the table, the alcohol bleeding into his system nicely, and dinner has been far too nice to puke up on the way home.
The alcohol settles in quickly and as mixing drinks tends to do, it goes to your head. You're not quite drunk, but you're not stone cold sober either. You think it might be why you stop paying attention to whatever Reigen is saying and start to let your thoughts wander a bit.
He's busy explaining a job from a few weeks ago, one that according to Mob had been fairly dicey, yet as you polish off the remainder of your glass, you’re not really listening to him brag about how he’d definitely been the one to save the day anymore.
You’re far too busy admiring the view to care about his stories. The fine wine feels like it cushions your mind in velvet, warming you up from the inside out and blurring everything around you except from him.
The chatter of the restaurant has faded away and the intimate lighting makes it feel like it’s just the two of you in here, trading stories and laughing with each other.
Reigen talks with his hands a lot, especially when he's had a drink, and while he expresses how close he’d come to death for the fifth time that day, he rocks your joined hands back and forth in time with his free one.
Reigen has nice hands: they’re wide and square, strong from all of his massages, with thick, long fingers you can’t help but imagine in places entirely unsuited to a public restaurant.
You’re enjoying a mental movie of said fingers on your body when he waves his hand in front of your face. Obviously you’re not doing a good enough job at showing him the attention he so craves.
“You're drunk,” he says, amused at your embarrassed look.
“No, I'm not,” you protest weakly. The stupid smile on your face belays your dishonesty and Reigen is clearly entertained. He blatantly doesn't believe you and you hide a laugh behind your hand. “Anyway, if I am, it's your fault.”
Reigen pretends to look aghast at the suggestion. “I'm your boss, I'd never get my employee drunk,” he scoffs.
“You don't remember having to scrape me off the floor of that bar at the Christmas party last year?” That one had been a particularly messy night out, even for you. You’re still all banned from the place for being idiots.
He smirks and you can see he's recalling it in real time. “That was your fault, not mine.”
“No way, you practically plied me with alcohol,” you say, laughing. “Very irresponsible of you.”
“Shut up,” Reigen grins and nods to the bouquet that’s propped up on the chair beside you. “I’m a great boss! I got you flowers, didn’t I?”
“Only so I’d date you under duress!” You say.
“I mean, sure, but also because you never get anything for Valentine’s.”
You stare at him, totally caught off guard by the confession. For what it's worth, Reigen looks even more surprised that he's said it. “I…. How did you-”
“Uh,” Reigen rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… heard you talking to Serizawa about it last week.”
You can barely remember the conversation yourself. Serizawa had been talking about seeing flower arranging classes at his school and you'd made a comment whilst Reigen had been in the other room making tea, off the cuff and totally meaningless, about how you'd never gotten them before, not even for Valentine's day. It hadn't been said for any reason other than conversation, but it had been true. Up until now, anyway.
“Reigen, I-” You don't know if you should be over the moon that he cares so much or humiliated that the object of your affection knows about your shitty dating history. “Thank you.” You say finally, giving his hand a squeeze. “I think that's the nicest thing someone has done for me for a long time.”
Reigen shrugs it off like it's nothing and you're reminded of how much you really, really fucking like this guy. He's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, and no matter how frustrating he can be, he makes up for it so easily that you can never hold it against him.
Your head swims and ridiculously, your eyes start to burn a little.
You’d really rather not cry in front of him and very graciously, Reigen pretends not to notice. Instead, he reaches for the desert menu and this time, he tells you to pick whatever you like.
♡
For the last stretch of the night, the two of you share mochi and a couple more cocktails. The wine is a little heavy for dessert and Reigen talks you into splitting drinks so neither of you get completely wasted.
You're using them and his accidental confession over your flowers as an excuse to show a little more affection than you ought to, and he doesn't give the impression that it's a problem for him. He does start a little when you press your ankle to his under the table at one point, but at your apology and attempt to move it back, he catches your foot between his and holds it there without comment.
The casual touch becomes a subtle form of footsie without either of you consciously meaning it to and by the time dinner is done, you're sitting with your legs slotted together. Despite the fact you've let go of each other's hands to eat, everything feels much more intimate than it had at the start of tonight.
On the last few pieces of mochi, Reigen pauses his chewing. “You've got-” He gestures to his lower lip and you realise he's signifying that there's something on your mouth. “S'not much.”
Your hand flies up to seek out whatever he's talking about and you're mortified momentarily, expecting something obvious and gross clinging to your teeth, but your fingers come away clean with only a little powdered sugar on the tips.
“Oh,” you say, with a relieved laugh. “I guess I've had worse on them.” It isn't supposed to sound suggestive and the hidden meaning bypasses you until Reigen opens his smart mouth.
“Yeah,” he mutters, smirking to himself. “I bet.”
His comment comes out of nowhere and you almost choke on air, blindsided by the double entendre.
Reigen realises you've heard him and he turns so red you're sure he could light the entire way home. He panics a little, holding his hands up and starting to stammer out an apology until he realises you're laughing.
It's more than a little funny and you really don't don't mind. In fact, you suddenly wonder how far you can get him to take things. If he's making jokes like that, you're intrigued to see if you can coax out a different side to him. Just because he's your boss, that doesn't mean you both have to be uptight and on your best behaviour all of the time.
And anyway, it's all in good fun tonight. Couples are supposed to flirt, aren't they?
“Are you trying to push my buttons?” You ask, sucking the sugar from your fingertips and smiling over at him.
Reigen's eyes follow the motion and he clears his throat. “No, I-” He glances up at you, eyes searching yours, and you can almost hear the bell go off in his head when he realises he's safe to mess around a little.
A slow grin begins to bloom on his face and, slipping comfortably back into a playful attitude that you always enjoy being around, he shrugs. Reigen sits forward to lean on the table and props his chin up on his fist. “What are you gonna do if I am?” he asks, smirking. “Report me?”
You mirror him, leaning on the table too, and feint innocence. “No idea,” you say, layering on the helplessness. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll have to call HR and tell them my superior is bullying me….”
“Oh yeah?” Reigen's grin grows, cocky and lopsided. “Unfortunately,” he says, taking your hand again without acknowledging it. “I run that department too.”
Biting your lip to hold back a laugh, you duck your head and take the bait he's so clearly dangling in front of you. “Then I have a complaint to make about my boss….”
“Your boss?” Reigen says, tilting his head and pretending to recall who you might mean. He's extraordinarily good at committing to the bit. “Oh, you mean that really good looking, powerful psychic guy?”
“Uh huh,” you laugh softly and you run your toes up his ankle under the table. “Super powerful, very handsome.”
Reigen's eyes dart down toward where you're touching him, unseen, and he clears his throat again. “Handsome, huh?” He says, playing it as cool as he can. “How handsome are we talking?”
“Oh,” You smirk, shrugging one shoulder. It's hard not to break into giggles, not least because he's so cute when he thinks he's being subtle about fishing for compliments. “Enough that I don't mind him pushing a few of those buttons, I suppose.”
You know you're supposed to be joking around. All of this is a joke, a game, and yet…. The way he's allowing your touch, letting you do it back to him, it's impossible not to keep pushing.
Reigen's brow twitches and he grins. “And what if he pushed them harder?”
“I don't think I'd say no,” you sigh happily. “I like my buttons pushed pretty hard.”
“Careful,” Reigen warns playfully. “I heard he's bad news.”
You laugh under your breath. “He's not that bad once you get to know him.”
“You think so?” Reigen asks, eyes searching yours. Nonchalant, he takes your hand again and turns it over until your palm is facing upwards so he can draw slow circles on the soft skin
The sensation makes you shiver. Distractedly, you chew on your lower lip and nod. “Don't tell him, but I think he secretly likes being nicer than he gives himself credit for….”
Transfixed by your mouth, Reigen bites down on a grin. “How do you know what he likes in secret?” he says quietly. “I bet you've never even asked….”
“D'you think he'd tell me?” You say, toeing off your shoe to push your foot past his trouser leg and curl it around his calf. It's risky and stupid, and you can't even play it off as part of tonight's front, but Reigen doesn't seem to mind at all. “If I did.”
Something has changed in his gaze and all of a sudden, it doesn't feel like you're acting the part anymore. The two of you are very, very close together now and the air feels charged, like it's full of static that's pulling you towards him. He's only a few inches away from your face and you can smell the sweet scent of lemon on his breath.
Reigen is still trying to play it cool, working hard to maintain his composure as though he isn't sweating nervously. “Maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his.”
“Yeah?” The din of the restaurant is distant and muted, like your head is full of cotton wool, and all you can concentrate on is the way he keeps licking his lips.
Reigen meets your eyes again and there's a tiny glimmer of hopeful interest in them. He doesn't appear to be joking anymore. “Go ahead,” he mutters. “Run it by me first.”
You're practically touching noses by now, leant across the table in each other's space, and if you were to tilt your head only a tiny bit, to pull on his hand, to drag him down onto you, you think you might be able to finally get the real kiss you've been dreaming of since you-
“Are you ready for the bill?”
A voice cuts through the woolly atmosphere, loud and abrasive, and both of you almost fall off of your chairs in sheer surprise, jerking away and righting yourselves in your chairs. You whip your foot back, Reigen stops touching your hand, and the intimate air abruptly feels broken and ruined.
“Apologies,” says the waiter, not looking very sorry at all. “But we do need the table.”
You can barely look up at the guy, face burning hot. It feels like you’ve been caught in the broom closet with your boss, doing something far worse than winding each other up, and Reigen seems just as embarrassed. Awkwardly, he takes the small, folded piece of paper from the waiter and reaches into his back pocket for his card.
♡
Reigen pays the whole bill and when you attempt to offer your half, he looks at you like you're insane. Typically, you split the bill with him whenever you go out to eat. He's a cheap bastard and you know better than to expect anything less, but he refuses your offer the second you hold out your own card.
He doesn't even complain about it, either, apparently just happy to have achieved his goal of qualifying for the discount he's been aiming for all night.
Once everything is settled, Reigen calls a cab for you both to share and the whole time you wait for it, you stand arm in arm with him, grinning like idiots and laughing together about cheating the system.
The taxi arrives quickly and in it, you sit closer to him than necessary, warm and toasty against his side.
The journey is quiet to begin with. You're sated and full, and still a little tipsy, so the silence isn't unpleasant. Slumped down in your seat, hiding your face from him, you can't stop turning over the memories of the dinner. He'd been so close to you, so within kissing distance, and you're too nervous to say anything about it in case he laughs you off.
What if he was just playing along? you think silently. What if I'm reading into it? The thought is nauseating. Perhaps you've sold the idea of dating him a bit too hard….
At your side, Reigen clears his throat softly and you shift so that you can see him properly. He’s sitting so close to you that your head is practically on his shoulder, and he looks down at you with a small, soft smile.
“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming. And for, y'know, going along with it. I hope it wasn't too weird.”
“I had a lot of fun, Reigen.” You laugh quietly. “Thank you. It was totally worth it.”
Reigen snorts. “I think we sold it pretty well, too,” he says. “Especially, y’know, on the way in.”
Oh, you think. The kiss.
“Sorry,” you duck your head and laugh, awkward. “I didn’t think he was gonna let us in and, well, you told me to make it work, so….”
He doesn't say anything and risking a look back up, you see that Reigen is watching you closely again, just as he had in the restaurant. Reigen smiles slightly, so warm and soft that your stomach feels like it might climb up your throat, and he looks down at your mouth again.
“Maybe I need to call HR,” he says with a half-laugh. “Kissing a subordinate is probably against some kinda law or something.”
There’s a playfulness in tone, like he's joking and simultaneously trying to see what your reaction to such a comment will be.
You decide to test the water. “Depends on whether the subordinate is into it, I guess….”
Reigen smirks, teasing, and a little bit relieved that you're not backing off. “I dunno, they didn’t get the chance to tell me.”
You realise he’s talking about the conversation you’d had before you had been so rudely interrupted, and your nerves flutter. Tonight has been full of flirting and teasing, and if you're still playing stupid games, you suppose you might as well go all in and see what happens.
You're both tipsy enough that you can play it off if he doesn't go for it. “Well,” you say, biting your lip. “I guess I'm pretty partial to a redhead. Especially if they’re in charge of me.”
“Yeah?” he says quietly, smile growing.
“And men with big mouths that they can't keep shut, too,” you smirk, glancing down at his.
“Noted,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over your face. “Anything else you like?”
You look back up at his smug expression and decide you can't let him get too ahead of himself. “And swallowing.”
Reigen makes a funny noise, strangled and hoarse, and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You can see his throat bob up and down as he tries to compose himself, and when he finally opens them again, he looks like he's struggling to keep it together. A blush crawls up his throat and the look in his eyes is so hungry it makes your knees go weak.
“Fuck HR,” Reigen says, and then sways forward slightly with the motion of the car and, leaning the rest of the way into your space, he ducks his head and kisses you.
Your eyes flutter shut and he cradles the side of your face, turning your head so he can get you exactly where he wants you.
It’s soft and nervous at first, like he's still not sure if he's making the right move and he pulls away almost as soon as he makes contact, only to return without hesitation for a second and a third at your insistent sounds. The chaste kisses become deeper as he lingers, slow and unhurried, and you can taste the sweetness from your desserts and drinks.
It’s so unbelievably fucking perfect.
You press your tongue against his and he gives a low groan, his hand finding your thigh to pull you closer. The kisses keep coming, his fingers trail upwards, crawling closer and closer to your lap, and you drag your teeth over his lower lip when he pulls away to breathe.
Reigen looks like he's had more than just a couple of cocktails to drink now; his face is redder than ever, his gaze glassy, and he's panting against your mouth like he's run a mile. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and you shift in your seat, encouraging his hand to explore even higher.
He does as he’s asked, thick fingers slipping up between your legs and he leans down again to keep kissing you while he teases you through the fabric of your clothes.
You sigh into his mouth. His touch doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near enough, the sensation dulled by your stupid fucking outfit, and you try to press up into him to seek out more.
Reigen laughs at your desperation, mumbling a stupid comment about being needy, and you bite his lip again in warning. “Careful,” You whisper, reaching over to palm him through his slacks with a smirk. “Don’t get smart.”
Reigen chokes out a grunt and his hips buck up of their own accord. He’s already hard, tenting his slacks, and you're not about to let him think he's in charge of the show. “HR won’t be happy if they find out I didn’t get my way,” you tut, rubbing his cock up and down slowly. “Then you will be in trouble.... And we don't want that, do we?”
Reigen hisses, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. He stares you down, challenging your gaze, and he smirks at your unwillingness to let him get away with being an asshole. He goes to kiss you again, surging forward, and then the taxi driver clears his throat very loudly.
You're yanked back into your surroundings. The car is parked up outside your apartment, engine running, and the driver is watching you in the mirror. He doesn't look very impressed. “You kids mind taking this somewhere else?”
You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing and grab your bouquet of flowers, flinging open the door while Reigen grabs whatever cash he has in pocket and flings it into the driver's tray.
He scrambles out of the car, darts around the back and grabs you by the hand, dragging you away and ignoring the guy's shouts of how much he's overpaid.
You only live on the first floor. Your apartment is small and simple, so much so that it hardly qualifies as much more than a shoebox with a kitchen attached, and you have to shuffle around in the hallway in order to let Reigen get inside.
He passes down the hall and makes his way into the main room, and once you’ve locked the front door you go after him. He's hovering about in the tiny living area, hands in his pockets as he inspects your room, and you drop the flowers on your coffee table whilst he’s busy.
This is the first time he’s been in here. On a proper night out, you tend to crash at his if you can’t make it home; it’s marginally bigger than yours and the cab is cheaper, which means his place always wins out. It’s a new experience to have him in your space like this.
“This is nice,” Reigen says awkwardly, gesturing to the apartment at large. “Cozy.” He seems a little stiff, unsure what to do now that he’s here.
You snort, coming to stand in front of him. “What are you, an estate agent?” You put your hands on his chest and guide him backwards until his legs hit the edge of your bed, and he falls back with a soft thump!
Willing and able, Reigen makes room for you between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks on as you begin to undress. Your movements are slow and deliberate, never once looking away from him, and you can see his breathing pick up in pace.
He’s hypnotised by every move you make. You shed your clothes until you're in just your underwear, exposed to him, and climb carefully into his lap. You take off his glasses and lean over to deposit them on the bedside table before going back to him.
Reigen's hands come up to hold your waist and he boosts himself upward to restart his feverish kisses. He's ungainly and needy, licking and biting his way back into your mouth while you start to strip him of his dress shirt. You make quick work of the buttons, slipping them out with deft fingers and peeling the fabric away.
You tug at the back of his shirt until it slips free of his slacks, hands wandering over his lower back as you explore his soft skin. Much to your delight, the muddy freckles on his face continue down his shoulders, cascading onto his upper arms and spattering the pale skin like paintbrush flecks.
Reigen's body is slight. Narrow and slim, yet soft at the edges. He isn't very muscular; you know he runs on the weekends and you suppose he stays reasonably fit in order to chase after the others at work, so there's a subtle hint of strength hidden underneath the puppy fat of his stomach.
It's more attractive than it has any right to be.
Without breaking away from his kisses, you slip your hands down his chest and work your fingers under his belt until you reach the buckle, blindly undoing it with practiced skill.
The metal gives way and you slide the leather from the pin quickly to give yourself easier access. You're about to do the same to the buttons when he pulls away from you panting hard and clinging to your hips.
You try to chase his mouth, still pressing open mouthed kisses there while he tries to speak.
“Wait, wait,” Reigen says, voice hoarse. “Hang on.”
“Are you alright?” You ask, leaning back to make sure he's okay.
Reigen looks bashful, eyes searching yours. He goes to say something and then stops himself, visibly nervous about whatever he intends to say. "I…" He sighs, closing his eyes to steel himself. Whatever is wrong, it’s enough for him to reconsider what he's doing.
He doesn't move you off of him, but he suddenly looks like he wants to hide away somewhere. His flirty confidence from earlier is gone, replaced with the same shyness he'd shown when you had kissed him at the restaurant.
You take his face in his hands and force him to look up at you again. “Reigen, what is it? If you're uncomfortable, we can-”
“No!” He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you still. “It's not that, I just…. I'm-” Reigen groans, not out of pleasure but embarrassment, and he buries his face in your shoulder. “I haven't really…. Done this. Before”
“What, fuck an employee?” you say, laughing quietly. “It's alright, I was just kidding about making a complaint, I-”
“No, I mean this,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Sex.”
You push at his chest until he has to sit up, revealing his cherry red face. He's uncharacteristically out of his depth and you're confused as to what he's saying . “You mean, like, it's been a while?” You ask.
Reigen grimaces, shaking his head. “Like, ever.”
“What?” You don't mean for the shock to show so obviously. He’s clearly already struggling and you gaping down at him like he’s mad won’t help the situation, however the idea that he’s never had sex before is utterly insane to you.
“I’m sorry,” Reigen apologises, avoiding meeting your eyes. He shuffles like he means to get up, jostling you about. “I didn’t wanna say anything, I know it’s stupid I can just go-”
“Reigen, stop,“ you put your hands on his shoulders and he stills, nervously glancing up at you through his lashes. He looks like he expects you to laugh at him, to kick him out now that you know his secret. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think it’d be a good topic over dinner,” Reigen huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s embarrassing, obviously.” He’s very obviously humiliated by his admission and it makes your chest ache to see him so uncharacteristically vulnerable.
His point is valid enough; tonight was supposed to be fake, it’s not like there had been any need for him to tell you anything of the sort. Still, you feel a little bad for pushing him so much now. Admittedly it’s a surprise. He always seems to know what to say and being able to talk the talk usually gets you pretty far when it comes to sex, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense.
All throughout dinner, he’d been happy to shoot the shit with you when he’d thought it was just a game, however the moment you’d done anything that even bordered on actual affection, he’d been decidedly less confident. Even in the car, his touches were hesitant and his kisses were unskilled.
You run a hand up his chest to soothe him, watching his tense shoulders relax. “Idiot,” you say, fond. “I don’t care.”
Reigen raises his eyebrows. “You don’t?”
“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him again.
Reigen doesn’t stop you. He breathes out heavily through his nose, gradually beginning to calm down, and you decide that things will have to go a little differently than you’d originally intended. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You murmur.
He nods quickly and you trail kisses from the side of his mouth down to his jaw line, open mouthed and hot, and he tips his head back with a groan. His skin tastes slightly salty, probably from sweating so much around you, and you drag your teeth over his pulse point.
Reigen sighs happily. He squeezes your hips, grabbing them gently and digging his blunt nails into the skin.
You slip out of your bra and toss it across the room. You stop bothering his neck in order to sit up, and you guide his hands up from your hips to caress your chest.
His big hands grope at you, squeezing experimentally as he explores the new sights, enjoying himself immensely. It makes you keen under his touch and he grins, his bravery growing at your enjoyment.
You unbutton his slacks whilst he's busy touching you up and slip a hand into them to palm at him through his underwear. Reigen grunts and presses his hips up into you, seeking friction to rut against, and you push down to meet him.
He gasps at the contact, his hold on your hips tightening, and before he can get carried away with dry humping you, you tug at his slacks and force him to stop. “Take these off,” you instruct, climbing off of his lap to give him room.
Reigen scrambles to shove off his trousers, kicking them away with his underwear and shuffling back into place, lightning fast. His eagerness is horribly endearing and it makes you grin. You slip out of your underwear and push him back against the pillows. “Lay back,” you smile.
Reigen does as he's told and with him flat on his back, you can finally see him as exactly as you've imagined. A trail of deep red hair leads down to a small patch that surrounds his thick cock, well kept and neat.
His thighs are curved nicely, long legs stretching down to hang off of your bed, and they show far more evidence of his exercise than his upper body. Regardless, he's gorgeous from head to toe. It drives you insane and you drink in the view for a second.
Reigen begins to look a little self-conscious at your attention. He squirms under your scrutiny and you're quick to settle his fear, straddling his waist and kissing him again until he forgets all about his worry.
You trade touches with him, hands roaming over one another as you make out for a while and Reigen's bravery begins to grow. He's encouraged by your soft sighs and casual exploration of his own body, and quite bravely he walks his fingers down from your hip to your bare pussy.
Your breath catches and you look down to him, giving him the silent go ahead.
Reigen bites his lower lip. He looks excited and shy all at the same time. Very carefully, he runs his fingers along the soft folds of you and studies your face to see how you react to his touches.
You gasp and tilt your body towards him, opening your legs to give him better access to you. His fingertips meet wetness and he makes a soft sound, both interested and surprised, and he trails them through your arousal.
Reigen is so busy investigating the feeling that he seems to forget that you're attached to the other end. He toys with your pussy, listening to you gasp and moan, grinning to himself greedily.
“Reigen,” you whine, reaching down to cover his hand with your own. “Put your fucking fingers in me before I-!”
He does as you ask, pushing one into your cunt and silencing your command. You moan loudly and push down onto his hand, desperately seeking more.
“Should I just….” Reigen looks a little awkward, unsure how to proceed, and with your hand that holds his wrist, you guide his finger in and out slowly.
“Keep doing that,” you sigh. “That's perfect.” The motion makes you shudder and you grab at his shoulder with your other hand. Reigen works his hand up and down, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world.
You’re so wet that he hardly has to wait to add a second finger and you encourage him along to keep him calm.
Reigen appears to be enjoying the praise you give. His cock is hard against your hip, precum smearing against the skin when you shift, and he rocks into you in time with his fingers.
As he moves his digits within you, you lean back to take hold of his cock, squeezing him gently. Reigen practically mewls when you do so, cock twitching in your grip.
You bring your hand back to spit in it and gently, you coat his cock until it's wet enough to glide your hand along smoothly, starting to stroke him.
Reigen gasps and bucks upward into your hold, desperate for more as he grips the sheets with his free hand. He adds another finger into you carefully, watching your face with barely concealed awe. His fingers inside you burn in the best way, and Reigen's digits curl perfectly to hit your sweetest spot, making you cry out.
He pauses for a second, frightened he might have done something wrong, and you shake your head at his silent query. “Don’t stop,” you say, breathless.
Reigen nods and moves in time with you for a minute, unable to look away from where you sit above him. His hand speeds up as yours does and within minutes, Reigen is falling apart under your touch.
Worried he'll get carried away, you lift up off of his hand and guide his fingers out. At first, he protests with an annoyed grunt, trying to snatch you back down, and you shove him back by his chest, grinning.
Reigen looks confused until you shift backward to hover over his cock and he catches on quickly.
“Ready?” You ask, making sure he's okay.
Reigen nods quickly and takes hold of your waist. “Fuck, yes, please.”
You can't help but tease him a little, rubbing the head of his erection over your cunt for a moment and watching how easily he works himself up with unrestrained glee.
He goes to say something smart and you seize the chance to catch him off guard. You ease your weight down onto him until finally, you're completely filled by him. It feels so good you cry out and pitch forward, bracing your hands on his chest.
Reigen chokes out a moan, grip on your waist tightening, and he screws his eyes shut. He tenses for a moment, trying to calm himself before he can manage to go on. As much as you'd like to let loose, you force yourself to be patient. If he's never done this before then you can't ride him too hard to begin with. He'll come in five seconds flat and you're desperate to feel him for as long as possible.
“Relax,” you coo, covering his hands with your own. “Look at me.”
Reigen manages to open his eyes and you smile, reassuring. “Take a deep breath, don't panic.” You say, running your thumbs over his hands. “You're doing so well.”
Reigen blushes and manages a sheepish smile, breathing in and out slowly.
After a long minute, Reigen nods for you to go on, and you lift yourself up and down slowly, thighs straining as you move. He watches you in disbelief for a second, like he's committing the sight of you to memory, and a big grin crawls onto his face. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You're so fucking hot.”
The compliment is unexpected and you feel your face warm up. Having his fingers in you feels like nothing in comparison to the way he's looking at you right now, hungry for more and leering at the sight of you on his cock.
You can't stop yourself from smiling and you roll your hips forward, slow to begin with. Each move has you both moaning and sighing, encouraging each other to give more and more until you're not sure who's fucking who anymore.
Reigen's eyes roll back when you speed up, eyes fluttering to stay open. His fingers are digging into your skin and the thrill of being bruised by him runs straight to your pussy.
The room fills with only tiny moans and sounds of fucking; No smart come backs, no more faking, just pure pleasure and excitement.
With a good pace set, you run your fingers over your clit, sighing happily as you circle your touch. It feels so good that you can't even focus on keeping rhythm, your hips stuttering a little.
Reigen seizes the moment to take charge of the moment instead of letting you control the movements, and he fucks up into you. His confidence is unexpected so you barely have time to process what happens, falling forward and leaning on his chest for support. His gaze moves from your face to where your tits bounce, and back up again. He meets your eyes and the sight of one another is enough to make both of you laugh.
He sits up a bit and presses your foreheads together, kissing you over and over, messy and uncoordinated as he gets closer. You both make soft little sounds, panting into each others space like you're desperate for air, and as your fingers work furiously over your clit, you begin to feel a coil build in your stomach; you're so close you feel like you might explode, and you cry out when Reigen snaps his hips particularly hard.
It's enough to force you over the edge and you tighten around him, body shuddering as your climax hits you. You moan his name loudly as the waves wash over you and the sensation is obviously too much for Reigen, because he buries his face in your neck and makes the most obscene noise you've ever heard.
It's somewhere between a sob and a moan, but his voice breaks halfway through and he bites down hard on your neck to stifle himself.
You can feel him cum inside you, cock twitching, and you collapse forward onto him the second he's done. Both of you go limp, lying pressed up against each other as you try to catch your breath again. Neither of you move for a while and it isn’t until you feel your thighs begin to cramp that you decide you’re going to have to get off. You lift up off of him carefully and you both groan at the loss as he slips out from you, cum trailing after his soft cock, and you flop beside him on the bed.
Reigen looks thoroughly fucked. His hair is astray and his mouth is red, lips bitten and slightly swollen from all the attention you’ve given them throughout tonight. You know you probably don’t look much better, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to care.
You shuffle up into his side and Reigen tucks an arm under you, pulling you in close. Your eyes are growing heavy against your will and Reigen drags your leg up over his hips to make you more comfortable.
He draws circles on your skin with his thumb, breathing slowing to a normal pace. The silence is comfortable and calming, and you’re almost drifting off by the time you manage to speak again.
“You okay?" you whisper, peering up at him.
Reigen hums, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding entertained. “Very.”
You laugh quietly to yourself at his smug face and snuggle closer to his side. He squeezes your upper arm gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Are you?” He asks.
“Definitely,” you sigh happily and close your eyes. “I think we went above and beyond to convince that place tonight, don’t you?”
Reigen smiles into your hair. “Eh, maybe we should go out a few more times. Just to make sure.”
You grin into the crook of his neck. “Sure, if you’re paying.”
Reigen chuckles and gives your ass a gentle slap. “Only if you show me how much you really like swallowing.”
“Deal.”
#reigen arataka#mp100#mob psycho 100#reigen arataka x reader#reigen arataka/reader#reigen/reader#reigen x reader#reigen arataka/you#reigen arataka x you#self insert#reigen smut#mdni#reigen arataka / yn#reigen arataka x y/n#dimple#ekubo#reigen arataka/y/n#reigen aratakaxreader#sorry its late i am not well! but better late than never right
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Danny was having a blast!
Leaving Amity was one of the best choices hes ever made! He spent the last year fighting off what he's come to know as Justice League level threats only for some guy to literally spit in his face as he carried him out of a burning building.
In. his. face.
Danny dropped the guy and ignored his enraged shouts as he continued rescuing the people and animals from the other apartments. Was it wrong to leave that guy there? Probably. Did Danny care? Not anymore. Jazz had graduated early and gone off to an Ivy League collage while Tucker had gotten a scholarship to some fancy private high school and his parents shipped him off somewhat against his will. Tuck, being Sam's counterbalance was sorely missed and Danny was getting more and more fed up with her pushy attitude.
Eventually she said something that set him off and he stormed out of her home. As he walked he realized something. He had Go bags stored all over the city, many of which no one but him knew about and no one would be any wiser if they were to go missing. He had full unrestricted access to all of his parents lab equipment, including the Specter Speeder and had full scale survival training in most terrains thats to Fenton Family Traditions.
He could just...leave. leave and never look back. Heck, he could enter into a new reality all together thanks to his Halfa status and no one would be able to follow him thanks to him being the only one of his kind.
So thats what he did. He didn't exactly thinks this through but he knew if he put it off he would screw it up by overthinking it and getting caught by Sam and guilt tripped into staying.
Next think he knew he was coughing on smog. Yep. This is a big city all right, one Sam would either love thanks to the gothic architecture or hate for the pollution and obvious corruption. Tucker would definitely love it here. The tech in the shop windows looked way more advanced than anything that didn't come from his parents lab.
Speaking of which he needed to find a place to hide the Specter Speeder (he needed a new name for that) he could keep flying it through the city invisibly. He was going to get tired soon.
On the plus side it was easy to phase the speeder and all his stuff into an underground cave that didn't have an entrance yet. It did have an underground waterfall however and Danny was loving it.
It wasn't long before Danny had built an antire jet out of scrap metal he'd stolen from the junk yards and his parents stolen tools. Flying through the city's sky was so much fun. When was the last time he flew a jet even inside an emulator?
Too long.
He heard his radio beep signaling that someone was trying to contact him but he ignored it. Danny took pride in his work and knew he wouldn't be shot down easily, new tech or not. If worst came to worst he could use his ghost powers to bail.
Several more failed attempts to contact him later a larger black jet appeared behind him. Danny grinned, "Let the chase begin."
As it turned out this city was filled with a team of vigilante heros with a bat and bird theme and oh boy, they were good. There were a few times when his jets had been shot down and Danny would have to actually bail. Danny was so impressed that he decided to leave them gifts whenever that happened. That's right.
Danny dropped loot.
The bats still had no idea what he looked like or what he wanted, even going so far as to call him "The Phantom Flyer" which Danny cackled at the irony.
#dp x dc#fanfiction prompts#prompts#danny fenton#danny phantom#batman#dimensional travel#the bats are frustrated but intrigued
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shut up and listen
matt x fem!reader
summary: matt and y/n have had a certain rivalry for years. all the pent up sex frustration finally comes out one night at a party the triplets hosted.
warnings: smuttt…., drinking?, dom!matt (ish). don’t like, don’t read🤷♀️.
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influencers and random strangers fill the room as the sound of different songs thump and bounce off of the walls.
the triplets hit 6 million on youtube a couple of weeks ago, so naturally, they threw a party to celebrate. since they were in boston when they hit it, they waited until they returned to los angeles to throw it.
i’ve known the triplets since i moved to california around a year and a half ago. nick was the first one to notice me, he replied to one of my instagram stories one sunny friday afternoon, we immediately hit it off. once he heard i was moving to la, he practically begged me to come over sometime to meet his brothers, so after finally getting comfortable in my new apartment in the hectic city, i met them for brunch.
just as expected, nick and i instantly connected. we took up most of the conversations that happened that day. i hit it off pretty well with chris. we have a few of the same interests which allowed us to get along extremely well. matt on the other hand, didn’t speak to me at all. instead, he just glared at me the whole time. if looks could kill, you might as well have buried me feet under right then and there.
after that, the more i got comfortable enough with nick and chris the triplets, the more i began to hang out with them. in the beginning, matt would just vocalize how much he hated my outfit, my shoes, or how my hair was done that day. i wouldn’t give him the time of day, as i’d usually just ignore him.
over time, it became irritating how much he’d talk down on me, so needless to say, i began fighting back. which quickly led to us bickering back and forth all the time as we’d throw rude words and comebacks to each other, in hopes of hurting the other one enough to get them to leave the other alone.
which is what’s happening at this very moment.
-
“god you are so annoying!” i yell as i push him away from me, making my way to the kitchen. i need a drink if im going to be dealing with mr. ‘negative all the time’.
“it’s not my fault you decided to show up in a small ass dress.” matt shouts back over the music, seemingly following closely behind me.
“why does it matter what i show up in? it’s my body. so im pretty sure i have a say-so in what i choose to wear.” i shoot back as i grab a bottle of cheap vodka, pouring it into a plastic throwaway cup.
matt’s face scrunches up in disgust.
“you aren’t getting wasted at my party.”
“no, im getting wasted at your brothers party.” i correct him before patting his shoulder, making my way into the living room.
as i walk further into the living room, i notice nick and a couple of other influencers standing in a hurdle talking to one another. i cautiously make my way towards them in hopes i don’t interrupt on any conversations that may be going on.
“y/n! hey!” nick exclaims excitedly, ushering me over.
“hey!” i gleam back as i stand right beside him.
“are you having fun?” he asks, looking down at me.
“as much fun as i can with mr. ‘big mouth’ always having something to say.” i roll my eyes, obviously talking about matt. who else?
“yeah im sorry about him.” nick says as he gives me an apologetic smile.
i just shrug my shoulders in response as i take a sip of the alcoholic beverage in my cup.
i never really understood why matt didn’t like me. im convinced he’s hated me the second he laid his eyes on me. for what reason? i have no clue. i think he finds happiness in life from making my life miserable every second im around him.
-
as im freely dancing, enjoying the effects of the alcohol. i feel someone come up behind me.
“hey.”
i turn around to meet a cute guy, who looks kind of familiar, but i can’t really place it.
“hi.” i say back, giving him a soft, half lidded smile.
“i don’t think i’ve seen you before, what’s your name?” the blonde haired stranger asks.
“oh-im y/n,” i slur my words. “im friends with the triplets.”
“oh okay.” he nods, eyes scanning up and down my body. which almost immediately makes me regret wearing a dress that my ass hangs out of.
i push my lips into a thin line as i nod back, looking down at my hands as i fiddle with them.
“you wanna go somewhere more quiet? y’know to talk. i can barley hear anything in here.” he suggests, leaning down to hear my response.
it’s as if my body reacts before my brain can even process what the dude is saying before im already nodding and taking his hand for him to lead me to a “quieter place”.
he leads me towards the hallway. the hallway where matt’s bedroom, bathroom, and the laundry room is.
we stand outside the bathroom, my back pressed against the door as he stands in front of me.
“so where are you from?” he asks, putting one of his hands beside my head, leaning on it as he lowers his head.
“um…florida..” i answer, hesitantly.
“mhm..” he hums, moving his head closer to mine until his lips barely ghost over mine.
i clear my throat in hopes of sending him a message that im clearly not interested in making out in front of the bedroom of the person i despise the most. or just the fact im not interested in making out at all.
when i feel him backing up, i let out a sigh of relief until i notice he didn’t back up on his own, except with a little bit of help.
“hey there.” matt happily says. clear sarcasm coming from his mouth, as well as written all over the fake smile on his face.
“what’s up!” the blonde dude chirps back, clearly not noticing matt’s fake ass nice tone.
“not much man..you know,” matt glances at me before leaning over to whisper something in the dudes ear.
whatever matt told him, must’ve changed his mind about what he planned on doing for the rest of his life or some shit because the dude just mutters a quick “okay yeah” before practically sprinting back into the living room.
i furrow my eyebrows as i look at matt, who now stands directly in front of me.
“what the hell was that?” he shouts at me, pure anger written all over his face.
“what?” i ask in disbelief as i cross my arms.
“you were just going to fuck some dude while you’re drunk? at my house?” he spits, leaning down to my level. “not to mention right in front of my bedroom?”
needless to say, im shocked. completely and utterly shocked. because, why would mr. ‘i can’t stand you’ now suddenly care what i do?
“what the fuck do you mean?” i voice back. “i wasn’t going to fuck him! let alone fuck him here, and i’m not even that drunk matt.”
i notice a small wave of relief flashing across his face before it turns right back to anger.
“you’re drunk enough,” he begins. “who knows what would’ve happened if i wouldn’t have stepped in. oh wait, i do. you would’ve fucked him! then i would have to listen to you crying in the morning about how you screwed some dude you don’t even know.” he states in a matter-of-factly voice.
once again, i stare at him in disbelief.
“matt-no the fuck i wouldn’t-“ i try to say, before im completely cut off.
“oh my god y/n,” he starts. “won’t you just fucking shut up and listen (lol) for once!” he shouts angrily, his hand coming up to wrap around my throat.
if i wasn’t already fully pressed against the bathroom door, i am now.
“matt?” i squeak out, trying to ignore the pooling in my underwear.
“what?” he breathlessly chuckles, leaning closer to my face.
i don’t say anything, not that i even can. i just stare at him, complete confusion written on my face.
“got nothing to say now huh?” he speaks condescendingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to my throat.
for some reason, i don’t make any efforts to get him away from me. i don’t want to push him away for once in my life.
“hm?” he hums, his lips slightly grazing over the sweet spot right under my ear.
i clear my throat, in hopes of mustering up some way to speak before i feel his mouth harshly biting down on the spot.
“oh-fuck!” i slightly yell, more in surprise than anything as he continues sucking on my neck that’s going to more than likely leave a spot in the morning.
“mhmm.” he hums once again, sending vibrations through my throat.
he removes the hand around my neck to place it on my hip as he puts his other hand on the side of my face, moving his mouth to the base of my throat, planting kisses along the path.
“matt..” i whine breathlessly as he moves his kisses upwards.
they move up my throat. then up to my chin, then once they reach my mouth he stops. just hovering over them before he speaks.
“give me permission y/n.” he whispers.
i nod, almost to quick for my liking.
“words, i need words.” he whispers again, this time sounding a little more desperate as he stares into my eyes, moving his hand from the side of my face to under my chin, lifting it up.
those damn eyes.
“y-yes matt.” i barely get out before his lips are already on mine.
his lips are soft. insanely soft. his pace? not as much.
i can barley keep up with him as his lips move against mine in a rapid movement. both of his hands slide down my sides, wrapping around my back before moving down to gently to grab my ass, causing me to let out a quick gasp, in which he takes advantage of to quickly slip his tongue into my mouth.
he pulls me away from the bathroom door, walking me backwards towards his room. he opens the door and walks me in, kicking the door behind him, our lips not breaking contact once.
he continues backing me up until i feel the back of my legs hit his bed, in which he puts a hand on my chest, slightly pushing me back which causes me to collapse onto his bed. him wasting no time in crawling right on top of me.
“matt..” i whine, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer to me.
“what baby?” he coos. rubbing his hand on my face, pushing my hair off my forehead.
“i need you.” i speak softly, unable to ignore the continuous pulsing between my thighs.
which causes him to let a cocky grin spread across his face.
“i know.” he says, reconnecting our lips.
his hands run down my sides, before going lower, reaching the hem of my dress.
“god this dress..”, he huffs, looking down at it. “you look gorgeous baby, but i need it off.”
i quickly nod before he begins pushing it up further. once it’s scrunched up on my waist, my black laced thongs are on complete display for him.
he grins, running his hand down my lower abdomen, stopping right above panty line. which subconsciously makes me buck my hips upwards.
“hey hey..patient baby, okay?” he softly says, pushing me back down.
he continues pushing up my dress as i raise up slightly so he can push it over my head completely.
once its discarded somewhere on the floor of his bedroom, he leans up as he looks down at me. taking notice of my now matching black lace bra and thong.
“matt..” i whimper, needing something. anything.
“shh, let me look at you.” he runs his hands all over my body as he stares at me. like an animal does at its prey before completely demolishing it, eating it alive.
and with that he leans back down, placing his lips on my neck. he moves his lips down my throat, onto my collarbone. making a few pit stops to suck here and there, before moving down to one of my breasts, kissing the top of the exposed skin as the rest is covered by my bra. causing me to let out a breathless moan, arching my back into him.
it’s not covered for long though as he’s reaching behind me to unclasp my bra. once it’s off, he throws it somewhere behind him. focusing his attention back onto my breasts, admiring them.
“you’re perfect.” he whispers before leaning back down, taking my right nipple into his mouth.
“oh my- god matt!” i loudly moan at the sudden motion, reaching my hand up to entangle it into his hair.
he groans as he swirls his tongue around the bud. once he’s decided that’s enough for one side, he quickly moves to my left breast, showing it the same amount of affection.
he stays there for a second before lifting his mouth away from me to hover over me. locking eyes with me, he lowers back down, peppering kisses down the valley of my breast.
he makes his way down my stomach, painfully slowly. leaving soft kisses in his path. the further he gets down, he places his knees on the floor. as he reaches the top of my panties. he keeps his eyes on mine as he sticks his tongue out, licking across the top of my panty line, causing me to shudder and slightly buck my hips up once again. before he pushes them back down again.
“what’d i say about being patient baby?” he tuts before he leans back, getting a full view of my clothed pussy. he grins noticing a darker spot right in the middle of them. “so wet for me hm?”
he drags one finger over my covered folds. which causes me to let out small line of cuss words. he lets the most shit eating grin spread across his face before he’s hooking his fingers around the waistband of my panties. he slowly pulls them down my legs. once they’re fully off, he takes them in his fist throwing them, this time forward so they land on his nightstand.
“such a pretty pussy.” he muttered before swiftly putting his face in between my thighs.
he left a quick, sweet kiss on my clit, causing my body jump and a soft moan roll off my tongue. before his is swiping through my soaking folds.
he skillfully flicks his tongue against my clit in an up and down motion as his eyes are piercing into mine the whole time. in response, i throw my head back onto his comforter, allowing my back to arch as his name comes out of my mouth plenty enough times to make him groan into my pussy. sending vibrations, enhancing the pleasurable feelings.
i feel my climax building, fast, as my thighs squeeze around his head. my grip tightening on his hair.
“matt…im gonna-“ i try to warn him, before i feel him come completely off of me, backing away.
“not yet you’re not.” he says demandingly as he stands up.
i whimper from the loss of him. before he quickly begins to undress. taking off his shirt, then his pants, then finally, his boxers. his dick happily springs out. the tip completely reddened as it throbs impatiently. pre-cum slightly leaking from the hole.
i almost drool at the sight.
he climbs up me again, spreading my legs with his knee. i guess i had pushed them back together while he was getting himself undressed.
he leans back down, connecting his lips with mine.
our lips dance across one another’s before he slowly begins grinding down on me. his bare dick rubbing between my folds to collect my slick to use as lube.
“matt!” i moan again. his cock rubbing against my clit perfectly.
before he stops again, making me whine once again from the loss.
he reaches his arm out towards his nightstand, opening his drawer as he begins rummaging around for something.
both his hand and head drops in annoyance as he groans into the crook of my neck.
“i don’t have a condom.”
“it’s okay,” i smile. “im on the pill.” i inform him.
he springs up, the widest grin i’ve ever seen taking over his features.
“you have no clue how long ive wanted to do this baby.” he sweetly kisses my cheek.
he leans back, sitting straight up as he looks down at me.
“you ready baby?” he asks, rubbing my stomach in reassurance.
“yes matt.” i let him know.
he looks at me, analyzing my face for any signs that scream ‘i don’t want this’. once he doesn’t find any, he begins pushing his tip inside of me.
his jaw slacks, low moans falling out as he makes his way into me. my jaw mirroring his as my back lifts off the brown bedding.
once he bottoms out, he waits for my sign that he can begin moving. once i nod my head a few times, he’s pulling out, not fully as his tip stays in. he snaps his hips back into mine at a slow pace.
“mm-fuck! matt!” i moan loudly.
“fuck baby-so tight.” he grunts, his head falling back.
he keeps the slow steadily pace for a while. slick sounds and moans filling up the room. thank god there’s a party going on outside, or we’d definitely be caught.
“matt..go faster.” i whine, needing more.
almost in a second, his hips are snapping into mine at a harsh pace. his tip kissing that soft spongey spot causing my walls to pulse around him as lewd moans escape my mouth.
“you sound so fucking good baby.” he lets out in small breathes as he puts all of his weight on top of me, his mouth ghosting my ear.
“all for me, huh?” he asks, condescendingly as he manages to pick up his pace.
which only cause me to let out a loud shriek. he takes that as my response as he leans back up, eyes focused on watching himself slip in and out of me.
“matt! im gonna cum!” i squeal, warning him.
“come on, cum for me.” he groans, picking up his already rapid pace. lowering his hand between our bodies to rub circles on my clit.
almost on command, my walls begin contracting as i let go around his dick. pure euphoria coating my body as i hit my high.
he rides me through my orgasm as he inches towards his own.
“fuck-y/n-“ he begins as his hips sputter before he reaches his high, painting my insides white as i feel his warm liquid shoot inside me.
he collapses onto my chest. we lay there for a few seconds as we catch our breath, until he pulls out. both of us wince from the slight overstimulation.
“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he whispers, leaving a sweet peck on my cheek.
as he gets up, he picks my hand up, leaving a small kiss on the back of it.
i just slept with the person i despise most.
or do i?
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a/n: first time writing smut so i apologize if it sucks ass 😃. this took way longer than i’d like to admit but i hope u like it. i heavily advise you to listen to the song ‘shut up and listen’ with this. it’s so fucking good.
for the ones that wanted to be tagged: @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo
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Hi! I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't, please ignore this and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas.
I just read your Astarion X Tav fanfic where Astarion proposes. It is said that the ring he got glows whenever Astarion thinks of Tav. I was just wondering if you could write a slice of life about the ring glowing at the most random times. Maybe during a stealth mission where Tav has to stay hidden or when he is smiling in his sleep and the ring glows. I just thought it would be cute and fun to write about. You can get creative with it.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, whether you end up doing this request or not. I hope you had an amazing Christmas and I hope you will have an amazing New Year's!
Hi Anon! I don’t think this is quite what you were asking for but… this is what came out! 🤷♀️ The smut gods blessed me and I cannot deny their gifts. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Smut below the cut.
If you haven’t read my other work and would like context, Anon is referencing a two part mini story I wrote. Click here for part 1, and click here for part 2.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ only please, smut, masturbation, sex pollen, swearing/cursing, game spoilers
Word Count: 1.5K
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“I think we’re just… a bit out of practice, darling. It has been nearly a year since we were down here last, you know.” Astarion whispers, crouched next to you behind a Funguswood tree. He’s wiping bits of dirt, twigs, and mushroom pollen off himself with a handkerchief.
“Admit it, Astarion. You just weren’t fast enough.” You respond with a small, teasing poke of your tongue as you rearrange your weaponry and count your arrows.
The pale elf finishes wiping off the debris, and you return your attentions to the mission. You’d been contracted to scout out the vampire stronghold in the Underdark and report your findings back to Wyll and the Flaming Fists. Rumor was that the vampire hoard had wreaked absolute havoc on the Underdark; the city feared the creatures would soon return to the surface if they could not find sustenance here.
“Would you have preferred I let that wild Rothé ram you into those mushrooms in my stead?!” Astarion hisses in return while rubbing his hand over his arm, which now felt unbelievably tingly and was starting to radiate significant warmth, “Hells, what mushrooms were those, anyway?!”
You stifle a chuckle, knowing your fiancé is already past his limits of patience. You two need to get to the scouting point, set up camp, and hunker down for a few days… all while avoiding detection from the vampires or any other nefarious creatures in the Underdark. Best to do it without an ornery Astarion by your side.
“I don’t know what mushrooms those were. I’ve never seen them before.” You admit with a small shrug, “Come on my love, not much further now and then we can get you properly cleaned up.”
Astarion follows behind you in silence, apart from the occasional cursing and swiping at his skin. Gods, the heat had spread up his entire arm now. The scratching seemed to make it worse, but by the hells, he couldn’t stop no matter how much he wanted to. The two of you finally got to the cragged rock that led to a small cave where you would make camp, and he never felt more relieved in his life. He couldn’t wait to clean himself properly and be done with this burning sensation.
You glance at him briefly and then begin climbing the rock. Astarion remains below to keep you covered in case anything decides to attack while you’re left defenseless. He looks up to watch your progress and cannot help but to notice the overwhelmingly attractive curve of your bottom. It was always attractive, of course, but something about it in this moment was entirely… irresistible. Had you been working out recently in preparation for the wedding?
You’re halfway through climbing the rock when your engagement ring bursts into a spray of light. It often glows significantly at the surface, but in the blackness of the Underdark, you’re practically a beacon. Your stomach drops. Gods, how had you forgotten to take it off?
“Astarion!” You hiss in a panicked whisper, “Cut it out! Every being in all of the Underdark will know our position.”
Astarion had realized the issue as soon as the light had flared, of course. He was trying desperately to avoid thinking of you and all the delicious things he wanted to do when you two made camp, but gods he couldn’t control it. What in the hells was wrong with him? He wanted to stop, to ensure your safety, but your plump, perfect ass was practically calling his name, begging for his attention, and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over and—
He shakes his head, trying to rattle the lewd fantasies from his psyche, “I’m trying, my love! I don’t know what’s come over me I just—“
Hags. Hideous shoes. Ghouls. Manual labor. Gale.
The pale elf tries to think of all the most grotesque, unsexy things he can and push you entirely from his mind. You continue to climb, hoping to quickly reach the top and take off your ring as soon as possible. The ring is still glowing like a single star in the blackest night.
Ogres. The smell of Araj’s blood. Rats. Gale.
Gods, it was useless.
Finally, you reach the top. You rip the ring off your finger and shove it in your pack as soon as your limbs land on the surface of the cave. Astarion quickly scales the rock behind you, and when he reaches the top, you’re positively glaring at him.
“Darling, I’m sorry! I really tried. It’s just— gods damn these mushrooms!” The vampire is ripping off his shirt and scratching at his skin as the two of you walk into the little cave. Before long he’s down to his knickers and cursing as he rubs desperately at his flesh.
You’re trying to ignore your fiancé and quickly pitch the tent so you can handle whatever the hells is going on with him. A sideways glance to your pack reveals that the ring is still glowing quite intensely… perhaps more than it ever has before. Was that even possible? At any rate, you can’t get closer to the stronghold with it glowing like that.
“Astarion, I don’t know what—“ You spin around, and you’re surprised to see the elf fully nude on his blanket, doing perhaps the most provocative thing you’ve ever witnessed.
Astarion is beaded in sweat by now, and his hands are wandering over himself, chasing the burning tingle as it travels through his body. Gods, the feeling was becoming absolutely unbearable. He kept seeing visions of you and him in the throes of passion in his mind.
He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Did he want to stop? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was the intense tingling and burning coursing through his veins and the wonderful fantasies filling his brain. He needed release from this torture; his limbs were on fire and the sensation was spreading to his groin.
The elf knows by the throbbing pulse in his cock that his erection is at full capacity, and he feels the dribbles of precum slowly sliding from the head, down the shaft. Astarion is, admittedly embarrassed knowing you are mere feet away and witnessing such an erratic show, but he grabs his own cock regardless— gods, it felt like being possessed. He needed release and he needed it now.
As his fingers wrap around his shaft, a burst of relief travels through his body. The tingling ceases for a moment. But then, it flares again and he’s consumed by the burning feeling and vulgar thoughts of the two of you once more. He pumps his hand a few times, bucking into the sensation, and once again the torturous tingle halts.
What in the hells?
Astarion is now rolling his hips towards his own hand, groaning in pure ecstasy at the relief from the burn as well as the delicious sensation of his hands stroking his uncharacteristically sensitive member. His eyes are clasped closed, and his other hand is still wandering over his torso, chasing that burning itch.
Through panting, shaking breaths he murmurs, “Darling, is it— oh gods, is possible that those— fuck — mushrooms contained sex pollen? I’ve never— mmh, fuck.”
You’d been so enraptured by the vision of your lover touching himself in such an uninhibited display of lust that you almost didn’t hear what Astarion asked. The slickness of your arousal was starting to become apparent as you instinctively squeezed your thighs together.
“I’m… I’m not sure, my love. I’ve read of such things but I’ve never come across it… until, perhaps, now I suppose.”
Astarion isn’t really listening. Instead, he’s bucking wildly into his own hand, chasing his own release. He falls apart in front of you, with his limbs tensed and mouth agape in pure, unadulterated pleasure, clasping tightly onto his own length. The gasping, strangled moan of relief that escapes him as he reaches his climax and shoots sticky streams of hot white seed onto his abdomen ignites a fire in your groin. He’s shuddering with the rippling aftershocks of his orgasm and you feel yourself dripping with arousal as you rub your thighs together once more. This display was entirely feral.
For a few moments the vampire is breathing contentedly, eyes still shut. He’s still holding his cock, which continues to twitch insistently despite its significant spend. Your lover brings his unoccupied hand to his hair and rakes it through his disheveled, sweaty curls.
You flick your gaze to your pack and notice that it’s no longer emitting that ethereal glow. But then Astarion groans in dismay and you see light flare from your bag again. When your attention returns back to your fiancé, he’s already grasping wantonly at a second rapidly growing erection.
“Darling, I can smell you,” He hisses desperately, now slathering his own milky juices around the swollen, reddened tip of his thick cock. The veins in his arm and on his shaft are pulsing as he begins to stroke himself again, “Don’t be coy just— come over here and help me with this. Please.”
And by the gods, he asked so nicely, how could you say no?
#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#astarion fic#baulders gate 3#baulders gate astarion#bg3 fanfiction#baulders gate tav#bg3 fanfic idea#astarion x reader#astarion smut#astarion x female tav#astarion x you#astarion x female reader#bg3 smut#prompt request#prompt response#astarion prompts#smut
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I Hate Mondays
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: This interlude was probably WAAAAAY overdue- but here it is! I was thinking of how to continue though eventually decided to let Vox kind of just deal with the whiplash of his chill downtime with you and his chaotic somewhat unhealthy workplace. I didn't want to really include conflict, just him again dealing with things he has come to realize but not entirely accept- it's Vox, when will he actually genuinely accept that he'd fallen fast and fallen hard for someone because they treated him like a decent human being? Either way, it's mostly fluffy stuff for now before I add your interlude idea requests into the story soon :)
A/N: I've also seen people sometimes write Vox with a little bit of an impostor syndrome, so a lot of his doubts and anxieties will kind of be reflected in this interlude. It'll all be okay though I promise! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!
There's a saying that everyone hates Mondays.
Manic mondays, monday blues, monday's monster, etc.
And for Vox, after the weekend he's had with you?
That saying couldn't have been more true.
From a relaxed and chill two days, back into an insanely stressful and borderline chaotic work environment.
And as he stared at the stack of documents in front of him-
He didn't even want to begin.
The overlord would've repeatedly hit his head against the table if it didn't risk cracking his screen.
The last thing he needed was to worry you because of something stupid.
"VOX! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH THIS!"
"VOX! I NEED YOU TO DO THAT!"
"VOX! GIVE ME THIS THING!"
"VOX!"
"VOX!"
"VOX!"
Left, right and center-
His colleagues were definitely not short of any demands.
And it was slowly driving him insane from frustration.
They could be asking quite literally anybody else, but no.
They just had to bother him.
And the overlord was just in no mood to deal with the chaos right now.
With his packed schedule full of broadcasts and meetings-
Vox's patience was really running thin.
It got to the point where simply chose to ignore the other Vees after a while.
Not responding to their calls or texts as he holed himself up in his monitor room.
Was his daily life really this crazy?
It's such a jarring change from how he felt like during that weekend with you-
So much so that he was really having trouble believing it.
Still, he threw himself into work.
As the king of technology in pentagram city often would-
And he completely lost track of time.
So after a while just staring and tabulating some analytics on the many screens in front of him-
The last thing he expected to see was a notification from your chat to pop up.
"Hey, how you feeling? You seemed kinda off on your broadcast earlier."
Vox wasn't thinking of replying to you, he only noticed what he'd done after a reply was sent anyway.
"Color me surprised, I didn't think anyone would notice!"
He really had to stop reacting to you first and just think about it.
Still, his fingers were already flying across the keyboard before he could stop them.
"Vox, it's me. Of course I would notice. Did something happen?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary doll, just getting used to the grind again."
He cringed slightly reading that message over, did he really just send that to you?
You could be laughing at his poor attempt of using new slang for all he knew.
"That is how you use that word right?"
"Yeah it is lol. Can you drop by the hotel later when you're free? I know you're busy so it's okay whenever."
That made his heart skip a beat, something the overlord slightly berated himself for.
Sure, he'd come to the realization that he did in fact love you to some degree.
But it's not without clear hesitation.
He could very well be mistaken anyway.
You were just... friendly like that.
Yeah. Friendly.
"Why'd you ask? Miss me already dollface?"
"Don't be an idiot. I just wanna hang out with you."
Vox found himself needing to read your message over a few times after you sent that.
He still couldn't quite understand why you liked spending so much time with him.
Time was valuable and time was money.
At least in the literal sense when it came to his occupation.
And still you just wanted to spend yours with him.
Him.
No wonder Alastor made a jab at you having a bad taste in companions.
He was... not really the best in hindsight.
Not that he'd ever admit that fact, his pride wouldn't allow it.
But in regards to you?
You definitely deserved better than what you got.
"Besides, you need to take breaks from your work every now and then. Vel's been texting me nonstop that you already look like shit."
The overlord couldn't help but chuckle from the irony of that statement.
Velvette, though not as much as a certain moth, still contributed to his stressful day.
But it was still nowhere near as bad.
Vox dreaded having to go out and deal with the irate pimp again.
Another tantrum, maybe a screaming fest even?
His mood was souring even more just thinking about it.
"Actually, did you eat anything at all today? Or do you just skip your meals you workaholic TV demon?"
"That's pretty rude dollface."
"Am I wrong though? Anyway, answer the question Samsung."
Now how should he answer this?
It took one glance at his internal clock to confirm he'd actually skipped both breakfast and lunch.
Well, he didn't think you'd count just drinking coffee a good breakfast.
Would you really get upset enough to storm Vee tower if he replied honestly?
Actually you would- Vox wouldn't put it against your chaotic nature-
Hm... maybe he could lie to you just this once.
"I'm fine doll, seriously. Don't worry about it."
The overlord tiredly sighed.
He had another broadcast in a few minutes, whether or not he felt up to it.
It didn't help that there was this... heavy feeling in his gut that wasn't there earlier.
Was he feeling guilty...?
For lying to you?
And it wasn't even really a lie, just- an omission of some details.
A hand flew up to cover his screen, kind of like a facepalm.
You really have changed him, and he didn't catch it until too late.
"Vox, I worry about you regardless. When you throw your job into it as well, then all the more I'm concerned that you're not taking good care of yourself. I know what it's like to get lost in responsibilities, just... be more mindful of yourself okay?"
For someone who wasn't supposed to care, wasn't supposed to get close to anyone unless it had advantages-
The overlord couldn't help but feel genuinely touched reading your message.
Sure, you'd sent similar things before and even told him outright at times-
But it always had the same effect.
You cared about him, probably to the extent he unknowingly did for you.
Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself just a little bit happier because of it.
Most of the world he'd built up around himself was fake anyway, smiles and all.
So this little shot of genuine care...
Really struck him.
Though just as that train of thought went and left the station-
Vox just as quickly put a stop to it.
That fuzzy feeling in his chest had bloomed once again and he wanted none of it.
Well, more like he couldn't bring himself to continue entertaining it.
It was probably fine when the both of you were simply oblivious.
But now he felt like he needed to make a conscious effort to stop falling for you more.
Lest he risk wrecking everything just because he'd guessed wrong.
What would you see in a guy like him anyway?
"I will, thanks dollface. Anyway, I have a broadcast in a few minutes so I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."
"It's fine go and do what you need to do, just drop by any time you need to okay? I'll be here."
Your flatscreen companion couldn't help but smile from your words.
Again, the way you treated him was just so... different from everything he was used to.
His tech empire, his company, his power and status-
It didn't matter to you.
Not at all when you were alive, and it clearly even carried over now that you were here.
How you could be so nonchalant about everything, Vox wouldn't ever understand.
Nor would he probably be able to comprehend.
But that wasn't really much of an issue compared to other things he felt towards you.
"I will. Thanks doll."
With that reply, the overlord went and got ready for his final broadcast of the day.
And it went as one would've expected.
Totally sideways off the rails and into a burning trash heap.
Fucking Mondays.
The broadcast itself would seem fine to the viewers, but behind the cameras?
It was practically a shitfest cranked up to eleven.
The cameras were rolling as usual and Vox was playing up his typical telecaster charm-
When Valentino decided to show up and throw a hissy fit then and there.
Sure, the viewers saw none of the chaos or madness-
But you knew something was up with your TV headed companion when his smile looked a little bit too strained on air.
It's not something everyone else would notice, but you would.
You always did.
And you were proven right when you heard some knocking on glass.
Ah.
There he was.
Vox was somehow sitting on one of the many ledges and railings that encompassed the hotel, it just so happens that this one was close to your room.
Didn't his broadcast just air?
You quickly shook off the surprise and confusion to open the window.
"Vox? What are you-"
"It's been a long day, wasn't in the mood to see the others. Just you."
"Then get in here, wanna talk about it?"
When your companion shook his head, that's when you knew his day was probably upside down when it came to anything going right.
Not to mention that for once, he actually dropped by and looked quite as bad as he felt.
His bow tie was undone, his shirt was untucked and messy-
Plus his coat and striped vest were nowhere to be seen.
Probably left at the tower you'd guess.
"Dude, you look like shit."
Vox rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, moving to sit down on the floor while leaning back against the edge of your bed.
You would've told him to just sit on the mattress itself- but he probably wanted to lean on something so you just joined him.
"I've been told, almost nothing went right today."
"Guess that's why they call it a manic Monday huh?"
You both shared an odd look before laughing.
Of course it would be the stupid joke to lighten the mood.
But that was always how you both broke the ice, and if it works- it works.
"Perhaps, but I don't think it was ever this tiring before."
You simply shrugged, leaning your head on his shoulder and staring out in front of you.
Vox subconsciously moved an arm around you when he did.
He was way too tired to really care or stop himself though.
"Maybe it never was, or maybe you just got used to it. Vel did tell me that you never really took a break before you met me."
"Seriously? What else does she spill about me then?"
"Nothing too important, just that you're a whole lot different from how you were two years ago."
When your companion let out a thoughtful hum, that's when you knew he agreed.
Funnily enough, Vox wouldn't say much of anything when he was actually giving something a lot of thought.
So the fact he wasn't really talking as much as usual also spoke volumes to you about his state of mind.
Because as annoying as his comments and charming jokes could be sometimes-
It was fundamentally what made Vox well- Vox.
Which made him just shooting short replies and sentences a little bit more concerning.
"Hey, can I give you a hug?"
"What? Why would you need to ask that? You've already hugged me before."
"I know, but this time it genuinely looks like you really need a hug. This is different from the ones when we just joke around."
You almost wanted to smack your overlord companion when he just gave you a confused look.
Granted, this was hell so what the both of you shared was no short of peculiar.
But the point still stands-
Had no one ever given this idiot an actual hug before?
"Look, just tell me if something feels wrong okay?"
Vox didn't really know how to respond to any of your words.
What made your hugs from before so different from now?
Though when he'd suddenly found you straddling his lap, the overlord bit back a surprised noise.
What the fuck were you doing?!
He found himself tensing a little when you laid your head on his chest, your arms encircling behind him as well.
Oh what the hell was this-
"Just relax you weirdo, I don't bite."
You calmly laid there and listened to his pulse, it was a little faster than you'd hoped for but didn't mind.
The gentle hum of his circuits reminded you of a working desktop computer, which you found a little silly considering he was supposed to have a TV for a head.
Again with the bionic biology- you were getting more than curious-
Eventually though, Vox did calm down enough to actually live in the moment.
The smell of your shampoo, how warm and soft you were-
His arms moved of their own accord and reciprocated your hug.
His posture slackened and the overlord found himself properly relaxing with you.
It was just so... calm right now.
And he was so so tired.
What he would give to just be like this with you every day.
The next time you looked up to check on Vox, you saw his screen dimmed and a screensaver of his company logo just bouncing around the edges of his face.
Ah, so that's where he got it from.
You wondered what it was ever since he slapped it onto your laptop-
You couldn't help but smile when the reality finally hit that the tech overlord had fallen asleep during your cuddle session.
Sure, he was probably really tired-
But he trusted you enough to just let go and relax.
That made your heart swell with joy.
He didn't need to say anything about his day for you to know he needed comfort.
After all, he could tell you about it when he was ready to.
You did wonder why emotional comfort was such an odd concept to Vox-
But it was something you were more than willing to teach him.
Besides, you both had eternity down here in hell.
So you had all the time to spend giving your flatscreen companion the care he deserved.
Your pleasant thought bubble popped when you heard a weird noise from the overlord though.
When it happened again, you didn't take more than a second to connect the dots.
Especially given how late it was into the evening.
Did this idiot even eat anything today?!
No wonder he dodged your question earlier!
You'd let him sleep a little longer but you would wake him for dinner.
Seems like you were totally right to worry about this habits.
Stupid workaholic TV.
He was lucky you liked him.
#vox x reader#hazbin hotel#vox#get off my screen series#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader
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