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lady-ashfade · 8 months

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Mates By Fate

Various Hybrid!Characters x Human!Fem!Reader.

Plot: The adoption center is filled with many different hybrids from all sorts. But when one gets a whiff of your scent that they can’t help but get excited to see you.

Characters: Rabbit!Izuku midoriya, Wolf!Katsuki Bakugo, Dog!Eijiro Kirishima, Cat!Shoto Todoroki

Warnings: quick adoption, licking, love at first sight, mention of dark past, not much.

Rabbit! Izuku Midoriya

The building was filled with all types of noises, from barks to meows, even some growls. Some hybrids were out playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or maybe they enjoyed their own company. Izuku was watching a movie that had come on just in time for his break. All hybrids get a break from the others to focus on themselves if needed, and he decided to watch his favorite movie. Super Hybrid: All might. Oh, how he adored the movie and the man it was about. His room filled with decorations of Allmight himself, posters on every wall.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen when the scene came on. Allmight fighting a bad guy, his tail smacking him around from place to place. It was like watching it for the first time, he was on the edge of his seat cheering at the screen for his hero. Not much could get his attention away from this movie, so when a scent came into his nose it peaked his interest. What was that smell? So sweet, soft yet bold, how could something smell so perfect? His flappy ears stood up and his attention drew to the hallway where his door was cracked open. Grabbing the remote be paused the movie and walked to the door.

He poked his head out slowly to see what was going on and if he could find the source of the smell. Then he saw the owner of the adoption center in the middle of the hallway, then a woman standing next to her about three doors down. A hybrid with droopy ears likes his but brown, the hybrid rubbed her head against the new woman’s hand as she smiled. When he saw you, he felt the world crash onto him with a kick to the chest.

Mate.

The words rang through his head and made his body tense up at the thought of having you in his life. But, he couldn’t have a mate? And not someone as pretty as you? He cheeks heated up while staring at you with wide eyes frozen in the doorway to his room. He could hear your conversation but didn’t truly listen, the words sounding like muffles to him. But a few seconds later your head turned when the owner said something and you looked right at him.

He yelps and slips back into his room quickly from being caught and your attention. His heart raced as fast as it could go as he panicked over every detail. Did you really see him? Was he imagining you here? What if this was a dream and he’d wake up mateless again? What if you don’t want him as a mate anyway? So many questions ran through his speedy head and made him panic.

“Izuku,” the old woman’s sweet voice called him out of his thoughts as she walked into the open room. “We have a visitor, like to meet them?” Your frame shuffled into the room and waved softly, the smile on your lips look like heaven. All he could do is stare and mumble nervously with words you couldn’t understand.

“He’s shy, but he’s a good hybrid to have around.” You nodded and reached into your pocket and his attention calmed down at the other scent he loved. Treats. A brown little heart shaped treat rest in your hands and pushed it towards him. “Hello, Izuku. My names Y/n.” The name engraved itself into his brain. The excitement finally washed over him and shot throughout his body, making him so happy that his leg started to tap and take the treat into his mouth.

He was so happy as he chew and you watched his nose crinkle with each bite, his happy feet bouncing. You giggled at the sight, he was your favorite by far. “I’ll let you have some time with him, seeing as he’s your perfect match. I shall be just outside with the other hybrids, call if you need anything.” She bowed and walked out the room.

You look at izuku and a nervous smile spread your face as he inched closer, no threatening gestures but with a curious look. His noses sniffed around your hand and up your wrists, he looked so focused. Then he nudged his faces across it like he was petting himself and your heart exploded. He looked so happy and relaxed with your touch.

“Mate.” He muttered and you froze up. Did he say that or was it a mistake…Mate? That’s interesting but you can’t help but feel like it was right. “Tell me, do you want me to take you home?” He jumped up and hugged your leg and you almost fell. Laughing you reach down to pet this hair.

He was interesting, he couldn’t get himself off of you. But he was perfectly sweet.

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki is wasn’t one for social interaction, especially with new people he had just meet. Whenever someone came to look at the hybrids he wouldn’t let them get near and just walk off or give them attitude. He was adopted once before and it was the worst time of his life, humans were cruel and he knew damn well they couldn’t put up with him. So he put off the idea that he would find someone nice enough.

Kats didn’t get along with the other hybrids, only a selected group he allowed near him. If he wasn’t hanging around them then he was outside in the shade, or playing with a chew toy that need to be replaced each day. He loved to be outside a few hours because he had a lot of energy he couldn’t release inside. Today he decided to take a break and lay on the ground to take a quick nap, the shade and sun making him tired. Then, his nose picked up a scent. Shooting his head up from his resting place his head looked around for the scent he was smelling.

This wasn’t food, it wasn’t like anything he’s ever smelled before. It was the perfect smell for him. He craved to get near the source. So he stood up and looked around, his tail wagging behind him. Big and thick with blonde and white with brown tips like his ears. “Shit.” He smelled it out and followed trail. A beautiful laugh caught his ears and he looked up to see a woman smiling with the owner, a hybrid getting their head pat. Her. It was coming from her.

Mate. Claim. Mate.

She was his mate, his tail wagged harder but his head gave him trouble. He didn’t need a mate, and not a shitty human at that. What was she trying to do? He’s a alpha and not some pet she could keep in her house- But he wanted it. To be close to her at every second to keep he safe and sound. He groaned and fell close to the ground and behind the flowers, the garden being filled with big places with high planted flowers. It was easy for him to crawl closer without being caught, after all it was in his blood to hunt.

He got closer and watched for a second. “I’ll leave you to look around, I know of a few hybrids out here. A snake one, he’s usually in the trees and many others.” She smiles and took the cat hybrid inside, leaving you alone. Smiling to yourself and straighten your blouses then walk over to the flowers, smelling them. Bakugo wiggled his body and got ready to pounce on you, why? He just felt like it. But when you giggled and looked over at his direction he froze in shock and confusion.

“There’s a mirror wall behind you,” you look a seat on the bench beside you. “But don’t be discouraged, you would of had me.” The lighthearted tone in your voice made him heat up, and your smile with no anger in it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, inching closer to you with a glare, a low growl leaving his lips to imitate you with fear. You only smiled and pulled out a big threat, a bone shaped one.

“I apologize if I offended you, it was not my intention.” Standing up slowly you tossed the treat softly before him. “But I hope you’ll take this treat as a apology, great wolf.” His ego built up at your praise and felt better. He took the treat and took a few bites. While he was focused on the treat you backed up to leave him alone, not wanted to anger him. Wolfs can be very territorial when it comes to it, so you wouldn’t egg him in.

“I didn’t say go, damn human.” His tough voice caught you off guard. You turned around to see him soften his glare and look at the bench you once sat at. “Sit.” You smirked for a second and walked back to the bench and did as he said. He was adorable. You stuck out your hand for him to sniff and he hesitated, looking up at you like asking permission or to get a read on you. But you only flashed him a eye closing smile.

His noses poked your hand and sniffed all around to take in your scent in, and his body turned into mush. Your scent, he craved it. “Damn, of course it be a human.” He huffed and crossed his arms. You looked at him confused, “Hmm?” Kats rolled his eyes hard and pointed at you, “Mate.” He enjoyed how you looked at him in shock and flustered.

“Now, go get the paper work done so I can leave. I wouldn’t let anyone leave with you today wether you like it or not.” His tail stomped the ground as his teeth really showed to threaten the people he thought of. “Well? Go!” You giggled and rushed away from the shouting hybrid, a rough one.

He was demanding and didn’t care. He however, was loving on the way to your house so you didn’t mind.

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto is a hybrid that likes to take naps, his cat like nature is strong. The sunlight can make him fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place. He also loves to climb up on things to take a nice nap, mostly on a cat like tree they have for hybrids. He also has a scratching problem but not in a bad way, he just needs to stretch often. Those are the things he does in a day. Wake up, scratch, eat, Nap, scratch and then repeat. However he does hang out with some hybrids on occasion.

Today Shotos place of choice was in front of the art rooms door, so close to getting hit if someone opened the door fully. The hybrid didn’t notice this when he went to sleep or he would have scooted a bit further. You wanted to explore the place and decide to check the art room to see what’s it was like. When you opened the door you didn’t see the hybrid behind you, only a tail that curled and swung slowly. Stopping and not pushing the door any further you walked through the gap and poke your head around to see the hybrid laying there.

His hair mix toned, red and white. His tail thin but long, white fur all the way down. But his ears matched the hair on each side, he was gorgeous. You smile and push all the way in the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle him. Kneeling down a few inches from him you start to call out softly for him to walk up. Clinking your tongue, “Little buddy, wake up please.” You repeated that line over and over. But he wasn’t little, only a small frame but you could see the muscles he had and how tall he was.

He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, confused on what was going on. When he noticed you his demeanor changed slight. His face dropping and staring you, with almost a cold glare. Chuckling to not be afraid you step back, “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door.” You glanced at the door and showed him what you meant. But he didn’t stop staring at you with a unreadable expression.

Shoto was freaking out inside. Your scent drove him insane, one he wanted to run and nuzzle up to. He couldn’t look away from your pretty face or he would have. What was this? Had you have some sort of magic to bewitched him? Why was his body on fire? He had so many emotions and non of them made sense. Until his mouth started to water..

Mate.

The clicking sound echoed through his brain when he realized what you were to him. A mate. Fate was funny about bringing people together and he didn’t have to find you, you found him. “Hello?” You waved a hand in front of your face as he continued to be silent and frozen. He blinked finally and you felt relieved. “Call me shoto.” You hummed at the calming tone. “Y/n.” You reached out your hand with a smile. Of course he couldn’t hold himself back from taking it and sniffing you.

Your scent was so nice to smell, calming but made his blood pump. You had weird affects on his body. You watch him sniff you and it made you laugh as he kept hitting his nose against the center. He was booping his own nose. Then he did something unexpected and licked your hand softly. To give affection he kept doing it, small licks. Nothing more to the eyes. Only he did it to get his scent on you.

“Adopt me.” He look up at you blankly and you were taken aback by his boldness. “We just met, don’t you want to get a know me first?” You asked. Most hybrids take a week at least before getting comfortable with a owner, or at least a whole day. “I know all I need, you are my mate of course.” He nuzzled against your hand as his tail swayed around smoothly.

“Mates?” You questioned but couldn’t help but rub his cheek, he purred so loudly you could feel it. “Hmm, smell you. Us hybrids have mates, or some do and mine is you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, I’m tired. Could you go get everything done so I can’t go back to napping?”

You took shoto home that night and he fell asleep on your nap. Followed you around the house with his head in your shoulders.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kiri likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. He always has a smile on his face to cheer and play with the others, the big brother of the estate. His dream is to one day have a forever home with a family that loves him but worries about being worthy. Despite always tell the others they’d get adopted or cheer them up, he felt the same way. But he puts it off and has fun instead, he’s very active. They had to build a new playground area just for him and hybrids like him who are rough but playful.

Kiri today was in the playroom all by himself and it saddens him, no one to play with. He’d have the rope in his mouth and swing it around almost like a weapon. Or jumping around from the bars to places, or his favorite. Catch. They had a device to throw the ball automatically and he loved it, almost as much as someone actually throwing him the ball. Kiri watched the ball get shot out and hit the table making it change direction to the door. To his surprise the door opened just as the ball rolled on the floor and stop between someone’s leg. His mind focused on the ball he chased after it.

His legs ran to catch the small object and only to be caught in another trance caused by a smell, a delicious smell. Stopping in his tracks he froze and looked up at the person at the door who now looked at the ball between her feet. A smile spread on her lips when she bent down to pick it up. The smell was coming from her. Was it a treat in her pocket? What flavor was it? That smell was heaven to his nose, like it was made just for him.

Mate.

Giggling you looked at the pup in front of you, a grip on the ball “Want me to throw it?” You wiggled it slightly. Thump thump. The sound of his huge fluffy tail hit the floor as he panted quietly. He was so excited. “Get it.” You threw it past him and made sure not to hit anything but far for him to have fun. He leaped up and chased after it, so fast and quick. It was cute to watch him bite the ball and chew down on it slightly then look back at you. He pranced back to you with his tail wagging, a pride filled aura as he puffed out his chest.

He dropped the ball at your feet and sat back on the floor, his tongue sticking out. “Awe, such a good boy.” You reached down to pet his head but gave him enough time to pull away if he’d like. But he didn’t so your hand patted the red hair, slightly touching the ears on his head. “My names Y/n.” Without a warning he jumps up and knocks you down, leaning onto of you and starts to lick across your face. His hands on your chest and tail making a breeze.

You laughed and tried to move but he didn’t let up on his actions. You smelled too good. You called him a good boy. A perfect mate for him. He leaned up and didn’t let his hands up from your stomach. “Eijiro Kirishima.” His smile was so wide you saw his teeth that looked perfectly white and sharp. Taking a breath you smile up at the hybrid you just met. “Nice to met you.” He jumped off you and waited for you to get up.

When you did you brushed off yourself and whipped your face off. Kiri stood up finally and you looked up at him, he was one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen. Blushing at his height you giggled, he was just a huge puppy. “Are you here to adopt?” He asked, his ears and tail stopping and going down. You could tell he was sad and you wondered why.

“Yes, I am.” You see him look at the floor and a sad smile grew on his face. “They’d be luck to have you.” The heart in your chest shattered at his tone, so quick to dismiss himself. “Would you be willing to get adopted? I was looking for a dog hybrid…If you’re willing.” Kiri’s head shit up and his body started to wage and bounce. The sparkle in his eyes reappeared and his happiness coming back.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapping themselves around you and pulling you closer, his tongue licking your cheek. You patted his head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You didn’t expect to meet the hybrid of your dreams on the first day of looking but here he was. “Mate, going home with my mate.” His words made you tense up. Mate? Does he think you’re his mate… Why doesn’t that not sound wrong?

“Okay, let’s go so I can go to the office.” He whined and hugged you closer. His head rested on your shoulder and he refused to let you go, he had a person for the first time. Too soon to let go. “You can come with him, but I need to walk.” He felt your chest vibrate with laughter and he huffed. His arms let your waist go but hooked on your arm instead.

You didn’t expect him to be so clingy and protective over you but that’s what he was. You’re now his home. But there’s no other pup for you.

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cupidysm · 5 months

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Vegan Pizza

Just a fic I wrote to practice my fluff writing! edit: I’m so happy so many people enjoyed it!

Steven Grant x gn!shy!reader || masterlist ||

summary: (I gotta practice fluff writing) As Steven makes his way back to his flat after being stood up, he runs into his neighbor who helps him find comfort in a warm meal.

content: fluff, making out, awkwardness (but like in an endearing way? I hope)

word count: 1,218

Steven Grant naturally thought bad luck was simply drawn to him. However, the day he landed a date with his co-worker, Dylan, he thought his luck has finally turned around.

Until she didn’t show up.

Steven was a good neighbor. Always greeting you with a smile or a quick “Good morning.” No matter how late he was for work. Now that you were thinking about it, he was kind of cute.

Alright fine, you were enamored.

His big brown eyes, his tooth aching smile, and it didn’t matter how loose fitting his clothes were you could see the traces of muscle through his wide necked shirts. But looks didn’t matter anyways. It was simply being himself that drew you in.

You found yourself returning home later than usual from a busy day at work, and just as you’re about to enter the door to your flat you hear the steps of someone heading up the stairs.

“Bloody chocolates.” Steven mumbled as he slumped up the steps to his floor.

You didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, but earlier that week you had heard him bragging to another neighbor about a date he landed. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say you were the slightest bit jealous, but Steven had a love life too and it wasn’t like he’d wait forever for you to get over your worries and ask him out.

You turned to Steven with a smile. “Hey Steven! How was your date?”

Steven doesn’t recall ever mentioning it to you, but then again he doesn’t remember much now days between his life and his dreams.

“Oh, hi. Yeah…it didn’t go well. She stood me up.” He mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your heart twinged with excitement, but was quickly replaced with sympathy at his downcast expression. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Steven.”

“All I wanted was a bloody dinner with someone to spend time with.” He sighs. “Not get stood up.”

The words slip from your mouth before you can even go over them in your head.

“Wellifyou’restillhungrymaybeyou’dwanttocomeoverandhavesomethingtoeat…” you realize how fast you’re speaking and are able to slow your brain down. “I’m making a pizza..? It’s vegan.”

The first time Steven had mentioned he was vegan you immediately bought a vegan pizza, that way when you did have the excuse to ask him on a date you’d be prepared. Apparently now was that time.

His face lights up slightly at the mention of a meal. “That sounds great! Yeah…I’d like that.” He smiles.

He follows you into your flat and sits down while you take out the frozen pizza.

“I’m surprised you actually had something vegan. Most people think vegan food tastes strange.”

You laughed. “Not me.”

That was a lie. You made one a while back and weren’t entirely fond of it, but if this ended well you’d be happy to eat as many vegan pizzas if it meant you’d get to have more times like this one.

“I remember you mentioned you being vegan a while back so I thought I’d buy it.” You immediately winced at your words. You don’t know how long back he had mentioned this, but you think it was pretty far back. He was definitely gonna think you were weird for remembering something as minuscule as that.

“Yeah, that’s right, I… I am. You remember that?” He asked clearly shocked.

Shit. He did think you were weird.

“Thanks, I… no one really takes the time to listen… or care.”

You’re lucky your turned away from him as you load the pizza in the oven so he won’t see your blush.

“It’s no biggie.” You smile.

The rest of the night you chat between each other. Steven’s once dismal night took a flip from simply spending time with someone as lovely as you. When the pizza is ready, the both of you eat your pizza happily.

“This is good. I still can’t believe you remembered I was vegan.” He smiles.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your face is definitely visibly red.

“It’s big to me. No one really remembers something like that about me.” He chuckles as he looks up at you with his big eyes.

You could’ve kissed him right there with the way he was looking at you. His mouth full of pizza making his cheeks puff out in such an adorable way.

“Bloody hell. must sound desperate, don’t I?” He looks off embarrassed. This time he’s the one blushing.

“No, no ‘course not.” You smile with a giggle.

He flushed again slightly before speaking out.

“You’re… you’re very pretty.” His voice trails off as he looks down at his plate embarrassed.

Your jaw practically falls off. “What?”

“You are very pretty.” His eyes glance up at you before staring locked on your eyes. “Really… beautiful.” His voice trails off.

“Did I say that out loud?” He picks his head up in a panic, his face turning beet red.

You stand up quickly. “I, uh… bathroom-“ You sprint in the direction of your bathroom before shutting the door.

You lean yourself against the wall, your beating so fast you think it might fly out of your chest. You eventually realize you just left him alone and put yourself in an even more awkward situation, so you decide to open the door.

You jump back in surprise and see Steven standing there awkwardly.

“I… er,” he fiddles with his hands. “Did I say something wrong? I- I mean you really are beautiful, and oh bollocks, I ruined it didn’t I.” He stammers out quickly.

You quickly cover his mouth with your hands in order to shut him up.

“Steven, stop it. Stop that.”

His eyes widened when you covered his mouth, a bit shocked.

“What— did I say something wrong?” He asked, his voice muffled.

“No- no of course not.” You squeeze your eyes shut to overwhelmed.

“God, if you keep saying stuff like that I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing you and I like you way too much for me to ruin it.”

He was utterly gobsmacked, his eyes wide as you spoke.

Finally, he managed to respond.

“Are—”

He lifts your hands from his mouth.

“Are you saying you… want to kiss me right now?”

You quickly cover your face.

"And it's such terrible timing too! I- I mean your date just stood you up!" You stammer out.

"I don't care if you kiss me right now. I— uh, I wouldn’t mind…" He said, almost breathless. "This— we, I…"

He couldn't find words— so instead he showed it.

His lips pressed against yours softly, just enough so I’d you were uncomfortable you had the space to pull away, but there was no way you were going to now.

A soft whimper left his lips as you pressed yourself further into him. He slid his hands around your waist, until he eventually pulled back to let the two of you breath.

“That was good.” Is all he manages. “That was very good.”

You can’t help but giggle and eventually he can’t either. He laughs alongside you, arms still entangled in eachother.

“…Could I take you on a date. A real one. No getting stood up?” His eyes sparkling with hope.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

#steven grant #moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #mr knight #fanfic #shy reader

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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Just a Peak- 👀

Crack-Head Headcanon

You accidently see the guys naked

Spicy Themes 🔥 including oral 18+

Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks,

Support me on Ko-Fi! I'm very poor and this is my job for now

Also a quick side note for everyone, This took forever since I had to do actual math! I looked at ALL of these damn characters and their height then based off of Odas fucking drawings figure out how their anatomy would lay in how he drew pants. Was it excessive- Absolutely 💯 was it worth it IDK

Buggy

• You all had been drinking on the ship, it was a fun party in all honesty. Buggy of course wanting to be flashing and show off how fun he was. Buggy who was fairly well drunk stumbled out for some reason you didnt hear-

• You stumbled out to potentially puke over the rails, However when you did you saw your Captian standing there clearly having finished relieving himself and now simply too drunk to put himself away as he stared out over the open ocean.

• You now knew why Buggy was so damn confident all the time...

• Thicccc, easy 8 inches flaccid and fit so well in his gloved hands it damn near looked picturesque.

• Have you ever seen a pretty cock!? When are cock pretty!? It's literally a perfect shape and color, with nicely trimmed ocean blue curls at the base.

Mihawk

• "AHH!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" Buggy screamed as he caught you staring- His face as red as his nose as he quickly tried to tuck himself away with sloppy hands.

• You quickly doing a U-Turn back into the hull of the ship- Face as red as a cherry and the image now seared into your brain.

Crocodile

• Being acquainted with Mihawk definitely had its benefits, in case really good drinks and the Bartender giving you free drinks cause they were hitting on The famous pirate!

• Mihawk had disapeared around 4 drinks ago, so you walled out of the bar to see if you could spot him. Turning the corner you spot him, but he definitely wasn't alone.

• There he was with thay flirty Bartender, her on her knees sucking him off. He looked mildly bored as well as he glanced down at her- However you couldn't help but stare when you saw her pull back for air.

• Long a solid 9+ inches , A bit thin for what you expected but clearly he made up for it in length. Pale, Slender, curved ever so slightly and thick hair at the base.

• You now understood the wide walk-

• Seeing the young female Bartender taking him fully into her mouth once mkre with a deep blush. Her nose pressed against the thick layer of black hair at the base- You see his eyes go up from the Bartender right to you

• His eyes met yours and he smirked- Like he was amused you had caught him this way, or that he was turned on by this possibly.

• Your face burned as he stared such strong eye contact with you. Quickly you snapped from your thoughts and hurried back into the bar. Finishing your drink quietly as the memory played in your mind.

• When Mihawk returned he sat next to you, not saying a work but you felt his eyes following you.

• Being a secretary was hard- being one for a famed dangerous pirate was harder- and then there was Crocodile

• He was a very picky and meticulous man that you knew better then to displease. So you had gotten his clothes from the cleaner (sands a bitch to wash out) and was dropping them off at his current residence. You had a key anyway so you walked right in, not expecting him there anyway.

• You were dead wrong however- Walking in it seemed Crocodile had just left the shower and didn't bother with a towel either. Stepping out steaming and having water running down his form.

• He was a big man (8ft3in -253 cm) you knew that... however you never connected it how that would translate in terms of.. his other anatomy however this just didn't seem fair!

Shanks

• It was easy 11 inches, the size of some people's forearm! Paired with it being very girthy it looked more like a weapon then an organ

• Paired with the lazy mess of wavy black curls at the base he clearly didn't bother taming.

• His eyes locking on your shocked face and how red you looked. A noise similar to that of a chuckle leaving him as he didn't even bother closing his robe.

• "Come here-" He said, taking a drag from his cigar and waving you to come back in... it seemed you would have a much closer look now-

• It had been a eventful day- A successful treasure hunt were the whole crew had pulled in a few billion berries for their own pocket. So you had all celebrated, Getting far too drunk in a short amount of time- Paired with delicious food.

• You still feeling buzzed you decided to drift off to get some rest before you got totally shitfaced

• Walking into one of the near by rooms to get some rest, the alcohol still making you fuzzy you realized far too late you'd stepped into the Captian's Quarters- and Far far too late into noticing their was your Captian half undressed clearly about to retire himself.

• A lovely white and pink member laying at a easy 8 in flacid and a forest of untamable red curls are the base of his cock that just lead your eyes there and only to there.

• He blinked at you surprised before cracking one of his signature smiles-

• "You okay Darling?" He said with a laugh, seeing your face so red and shocked.

• A twinkle in his eyes as he gestured for you to come fully inside.

• "Seems something has caught your eye, why don't we close up that door and talk about it?~" He said with a smirk. You nodding and closing the door behind you with a shy smile.

• Now how could you refuse that?

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #one piece mihawk #one piece headcanons #dracule mihawk #one piece shanks #one piece crocodile #buggy the clown x reader #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #crocodile x reader #buggy one piece

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strlingsav · 27 days

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Memories

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Meeting your ex leads you to reminiscing.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Thanks to @mykneeshurt for helping me out of my rut with this one 🫶🏻

It wasn't your wisest decision; you'd been careful thus far in the grieving process not to use poor coping mechanisms to get you through bad days, but the anonymity and seclusion of the downtown bar brought you a bit of peace. More than yoga or journaling- especially after the first sip of your drink.

You hated to admit it felt good. Even if you sat in silence and merely stared down the liquid in your glass, your brain was finally empty. You didn't want to sit with your feelings anymore, you wanted to get drunk and pretend they didn't exist.

You even contemplated trying a cigarette. Another poor decision surely wouldn't lead you any deeper into your already darkened abyss. The bearded man to your right, with one hand around a beer and the other holding a smouldering stick, made it look serene- cathartic, even. A flat expression and dull eyes, you envied his lack of awareness.

You stuck out like a sore thumb, though. You didn't meld with the horde of middle-aged men, or blue-collar workers crowded around a pool table. Your legs were crossed on the barstool, hair neatly done and makeup on your face- if it wasn't smudged yet.

It made it easy for him to spot you. As if he couldn't find you in a sea of people anyway, your appearance drew in his gaze immediately. His heart dropped to his stomach, a rapid increase in his pulse that throbbed in his throat.

He hadn't seen you for years. Not since you left, since he left. A scarred wound sat in his chest, reopened when you texted him, now raw and bleeding as he watched you. His saliva dried in his mouth, breath catching in his throat when your head turned to meet his eyes, and he swore he watched your lips turn to a small smile.

He wondered if your smile meant you were happy to see him- or whether it was a polite show of acknowledgement. Though rather than turning your back to him, you faced him, resting your jaw in your hand. He sauntered over, his pulse still thumping against his ribs, his hands suddenly clammy and warm- like he wasn't a seasoned soldier.

Sliding in next to you, an arms' length apart, he faced forward, still not yet able to fully find your eyes; eyes he'd missed for years.

Your text came as a shock, though he couldn't deny he'd been reluctantly praying you'd reach out, change your mind, give him a second chance. It was vague, a reminder of who you were, as if he'd ever forget your name and number, and an invitation to the bar you'd made yourself comfortable in. He couldn't say no.

He said your name- a greeting, rolling off his tongue like you'd never left.

"Simon," You nodded. "Thanks for meeting me."

He finally turned his head, his black eyes finding yours with hesitation. You swallowed, nearly succumbing to the nostalgia and breaking into tears, but held strong when he nodded in response and you heard his voice for the first time in a long time.

"Surprised to hear from you. Everythin' alright? You doin' well?" He asked, still nonchalantly peering around even though he was nearly salivating at the smell of you. Still the same- his favourite scent, mixed with your addictive pheromones. It made his stomach churn.

"Yeah," You nodded shortly. "Just needed a friend. How have you been?"

"We friends now?" A hint of humour in his tone made you scoff.

"I needed someone I know- someone who knows me." Your eyes softened as you watched him, suddenly feeling guilty for inviting him.

"Knew you years ago," He started. "Not sure I know you now."

"I'm the same person, Simon," You scoffed again. "Just older."

"And married," He looked down at your hand, eyeing the silver band looped around your finger. He tried not to let his jealousy be as obviously apparent as it felt, swallowing harshly.

Your fingers immediately reached the ring, twisting it slowly for comfort like you'd always done.

"Separated," You admitted. "A few months now."

He watched your eyes begin to water, feeling resentful of the man who got to marry you- the man you chose over him and were so emotional about now.

"Still holdin' on?" He asked.

You shook your head, still holding the ring between your fingers. "I thought it would ward off any men in here. This isn't- I gave that back."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. Still, the lump of anger sat in his throat, but it was mostly jealousy. Seeing your face again reminded him of the memories he'd pushed down into his chest cavity and burned with whiskey and beer. He didn't need to be reminded that you'd walked away- he didn't even want to entertain the idea of another man touching you.

"You wanna talk about it?" His voice dripped with disinterest and reluctance. It made you chuckle.

"No," You grinned. "I'd rather drink about it."

"That I can do."

His fingers lifted as he ordered a drink, and another for you, while you smiled softly. Truthfully, your feelings for Simon had never faded. Even at the courthouse with your ex-husband, a part of you was still overseas with Simon. Though your decision to leave Simon wasn't easy, you'd suffered too much loss to stay and risk even more.

You'd settled down, naively accepted your ex-husband's proposal, and chose to leave him after nearly two years of marriage- another difficult decision, though not nearly as difficult as saying goodbye to Simon.

The more alcohol in your system, the more you began to remember; every fight, every kiss, every time he touched you. It wrapped around your heart, nostalgia-filled daydreams that evoked warmth in your stomach and pliability in your body.

Your hand reached his arm- an innocent touch at first, though his eyes narrowed at yours.

"Do I look the same?" You teased, rocking side to side, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Or do I have more wrinkles?"

He shook his head. "Still just as beautiful."

Your heart leapt, though you were speechless. Awkwardly searching for an appropriate response, you pursed your lips.

Simon tensed. "Sorry- didn't mean to-"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "It's okay. It's just been a while since I've heard that."

Simon paused, watching your body language.

"Thank you, Simon. I missed you."

The latter slipped out- a sharp jolt ran through your body as you sat up straight.

"Think you're drunk," He huffed.

You nodded, letting out a short chuckle. "I am. Doesn't mean I didn't miss you. We dated once, remember?"

He pursed his lips. "Could never forget."

After a few moments of quiet reflection, a stinging sensation in your eyes at Simon's vulnerability, you sighed.

"You always were a good guy," You huffed. "Can't say I don't regret leaving." You peered up at him, suddenly very aware that you'd finally spilled your feelings to him.

"Why did you?" He asked, cocking his head.

"I was scared," You shrugged. "Of losing you."

He squinted, before nodding. He accepted your answer, even if it didn't quite fit together in his head. He was relieved to know he hadn't done anything to push you away, that maybe there was a chance he could have you again.

"Well, I think I'll head home," You smiled.

"Let me drive you," He offered.

Your eyes met briefly, before you nodded and followed him out to his vehicle. You'd begun to fall asleep in the car- snoring lightly as Simon drove beneath streetlights and overpasses. He realized he didn't know where you lived, not since you'd moved out; against his better judgement, he decided not to wake you, but to take you back home; to his home.

He even wrapped his arms around you, lifted you from the car while you stirred in his grasp. Peering down at you, his heart clenched at your soft, sleeping face. The feel of your body in his hands again, smooth flesh against his calloused skin.

He let you take his bed; fresh sheets he hadn't slept in in months. Without crossing anymore boundaries, he left you to sleep beneath his duvet and stumbled off to the couch.

You woke not long after, immediately recognizing the bedroom you'd been put in. The same sheets, same decor; it was like you'd been transported back a few years. Only Simon wasn't beside you, and your framed photographs were no longer resting on the nightside table.

You stood to your feet, slowly, cautiously moving around the room, trying your hardest not to give in and search through his things in hopes of finding a trace of yourself there. You left the room, wandering down the familiar hallway to the living room where he was lain on the same beige couch you'd bought together.

You held back a smile- an arm strewn across his face, harsh exhales you knew meant he was still trying to lull himself to sleep. As you neared, he sat up suddenly.

"Sorry," You whispered. "I didn't mean to bother you."

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. "Y'fell asleep," He said. "Didn't know where you lived."

"It's fine." You peered around the room. Just the same but entirely different- it wasn't yours anymore. "Feels strange being here."

"'M sure," He nodded.

You watched from your position on the wall, arms crossed while he situated himself.

"Everything feels so familiar," You sighed.

He was silent, watching you take in the surroundings. It made his heart soften; a bit of resentment having melted and now replaced with desire at seeing you back where you belonged. In your shared home, with him.

"Brings back memories," He nodded.

Your cheeks reddened at the thought of memories; particularly the ones where your late nights ended in slow sex on the very couch you sat on. Staring up at the ceiling, Simon's hands roaming your body, the TV light flashing across your naked bodies.

"We had good times together," You said, turning to meet his eyes.

"Still can," He breathed.

You sighed softly; it was a mouth-watering offer, however innocent he meant it, that brought your pulse between your thighs and warmed your abdomen. But you weren't sure. You hadn't seen Simon in years, hadn't talked in years, you wondered if trying again would only hurt more than the initial breakup.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," You sighed again.

He stood to his feet, moving closer to you.

"You texted me," He said. "Had to be a reason."

"I told you, I needed a friend-"

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "You want more than a friend, love." He neared you, so close his chest nearly touched yours. His hand gently landed on your waist, slowly pulling you closer to him. He shut his eyes, inhaling shakily at the feel of your body against his again. "Think you want me to touch you again."

"Simon-" You started, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"That's it," He smirked, nearly unnoticeably. "Missed hearin' you say my name sweetheart. Missed a lot about you, if 'm bein' honest," He pushed his face into your neck, earning a broken exhale from you when he planted soft lips on your jugular.

"Simon, please," You breathed, your reluctant hands finding his biceps while he continued to wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor.

"Don't beg for me 'less you mean it, sweetheart."

He met your eyes, waiting for you to confirm or deny; your teeth clenched your bottom lip, letting it fall as you whispered another light plea. It was quiet and held no conviction behind it, only pure lust that drove it from the back of your throat.

He pressed his lips against yours, tight fingers holding onto your waist, his other hand gliding up to your jaw. Long fingers spread the length of your throat, forcing your lips against his, waiting to hear the moans he'd missed so badly.

You couldn't help but grind yourself against him- arousal was already flooding through you just while his tongue slid into your mouth, but you needed more.

You began to lift his shirt over his head, while he grabbed it at the neck and disposed of it within seconds. Your blouse, expensive and delicate, was pulled apart at the buttons by Simon's calloused hands, which dove down to cup your breasts and squeeze with fervour.

"Missed your body," He whispered into your neck, tugging your bra down your body to reveal your breasts.

"I missed your touch," You whispered against his jaw, your lip quivering at the nostalgia. "God- I missed you touching me."

He lifted you suddenly, strong hands carrying you to the beige couch- it was like your first time all over again. Goosebumps spreading across your skin, Simon's smell invading your senses. You were breathless, emotional, overwhelmed.

He tugged your jeans down your hips, pulling your panties off as you shuffled out of them. He wasted no time burying his face between your soft thighs, rough hands holding them apart while his tongue slid against your clit.

You gasped sharply, your back lifting off the couch to meet his lips, to grind yourself against his mouth. He'd always been over-eager when it came to your pleasure, though his tongue glided against you, encircling your clit with a level of attentiveness you'd not received in years.

His hand ran up your stomach, softly squeezing your breasts, while the other massaged the pliable flesh of your thighs. He missed having you spread out for him, vulnerable beneath him. Your thighs over his shoulders, your expression of pleasure illuminated by the TV; he'd always been driven by your enthusiastic moans.

"Pussy tastes so fuckin' good, sweetheart," He said, his voice hoarse with restraint. "Just as good as I remember."

You exhaled a whine, a gush of arousal spreading through every limb as he continued his methodical massage. You felt his fingers breach your pussy, slowly but surely stretching you out around him, a strained exhale leaving his mouth.

"Fuck," He whispered, leaning forward to connect his lips to your clit once more.

"Yes, Simon," You breathed into the silence. "Shit- you know just how I like it," You gasped.

His fingers curled inside you, his tongue still flicking quickly over your clit. He'd tasted you so many times, watched you come undone on his tongue- he could pinpoint the moment you were close to cumming. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers, squeezing so tight he nearly couldn't move them, your body writhing with pleasure, lips frozen in a gasp.

He'd been grinding into the softness of the couch, attempting to relieve some of the painful arousal. With each stroke of his fingers, his hips jerked forward, imagining himself deep inside you, your juices coating his cock.

When you came on his fingers, his eyes had flickered to your face, watching you combust with firework-like pleasure, galaxies clouding your vision while he watched with awe.

You exhaled, sitting up to make eye contact with him- he crawled over you like a hungry animal, one hand undoing the belt constricting his pants while the other held himself above you.

"Missed the taste of you," He whispered, his lips inches from yours. "Bein' inside you."

His voice was shaky with desire, a painful erection he wanted to bury inside you only throbbing when you'd chew on your bottom lip.

"I want you inside me," You said in return, watching his eyes close as he digested your words.

"Christ-" He scoffed. "You miss my cock, love? Miss havin' it deep inside you?"

His fingers wrapped around your throat again, watching you nod enthusiastically.

"I do- always have," You breathed. "Please," You whispered, another plea that nearly made him cum right there.

He yanked his pants down his hips, his impressive erection momentarily exposed before he gripped your thigh and yanked it to his waist. You felt the soft head of his cock gently probe your pussy before sliding in- smooth and quick, before he was buried to the hilt, connected so perfectly like you were made for him.

His head dropped, a low groan of satisfaction escaping him before he adjusted his hips and looked up at you.

"Fuckin' hell," He shook his head, situating his hands so he could dive closer, press his body against yours. "Stay right there," He insisted.

You tightened your thighs around his hips, your hands gripping onto the bulging muscles of his back, flexing and moving as he fought his impending orgasm. Your fingernails inadvertently scraped against his skin- you knew he loved it, knew it sent him over the edge.

He moved, a thrust that was uncertain and haphazard, but intentional enough to make your lips part. He was so deep, his pubic bone grinding against your clit- it sent a shiver up your spine.

"Too tight," he mumbled against your mouth. "So fuckin' wet."

He began thrusting, harsh and poignant, grinding into you. Your body rocked with each movement, finding yourself bouncing your hips back to meet him halfway. He'd begun to perspire, sweat dotting his forehead, his lips parted as he huffed.

"Simon," You murmured, pressing your lips to his neck as he thrusted into you.

"Tell me it's mine," He grunted. "This cunt is mine- you're mine."

Your eyes met- even if he'd insisted while inside you, you both knew it was true. You were his, he was yours, no matter the outcome.

"I'm yours," You nodded, "All yours."

He kissed you again, forceful and passionate, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your stomach tightening as he rubbed against your clit.

Another orgasm overtook you- in turn, he began to reach his peak, desperately searching your eyes, watching you gasp and moan on his cock, struggle to breathe while he pounded into you.

"'M close, love," He breathed.

"Cum inside me," You spat out, clinging to him with all four limbs while he wrapped a hand around your throat.

His thrusts grew sloppy, slow- a long, low grunt from his mouth let you know he was cumming; burying his cock as deep as possible, hips jutting forward with every jolt of pleasure. He groaned into your mouth, a sloppy kiss as you felt his warm cum coat your walls. He exhaled, sitting back, slowly easing out of you while his cum began to drip down your ass. He used a finger to push it back inside you, a sly grin over his lips as he did, and helped you sit up.

A quick clean-up, change of clothes and a glass of water later, the two of you settled in your old bed, your old room. His arm tangled over your side, holding you against his body like you'd escape in his sleep, and you fell asleep with him- like it always should've been.

#cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost smut #mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #strlingsavwrites #call of duty

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legiblyloathed · 1 year

Text

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 2)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: This has gone from a oneshot to a twoshot to what’s now shaping up to be at least a five chapter story and for that I apologize. The “date” with Wally was only meant to be half a chapter and now it’s a full one. I will, in fact, learn nothing from this and will continue to accidentally increase my workload in the future. Many thanks for the kind comments on chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy chapter 2!

People who requested to be tagged; @whynot5243 @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart Y’all keep me going, I wish you the best.

Prev ——— Next

You know, maybe it was hasty to imagine Wally killing me as the worst case scenario. I think I’d take getting murdered in the woods over the uncomfortable silence I’ve been stewing in all afternoon.

Or at least, the silence is making me uncomfortable. Ever since I dragged myself out of the house to paint with him like I promised, I’ve spent damn near every minute avoiding eye contact like it’d kill me. Not that it seems to be working, as every time I glance up from my painting, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, and without fail he’s always focused on me. How he’s managed to finish his own drawing in between these moments is beyond me, but the way the easels are laid out, I can’t see his canvas anyway. There’s every chance it’s blank, and he just coerced me out here to stare at me without interruption.

But now, the sky is shifting to a myriad of colors, and I send up a silent thank you to the heavens for the excuse to leave. “Well, this has been fun,” I start, wiping the excess paint on my hands onto the apron he loaned me. “But I don’t wanna have to walk home in the dark, so I’d best be off.”

“It has been fun, hasn’t it?” After who knows how long of complete silence, his voice makes me jump slightly. Wally takes a few slow, measured steps in my direction, stopping just a little too close to my personal bubble. His eyes glued to my messy painting of the woods, and his eternal smile seems to widen. “You’re good at this.”

I manage to let out a laugh. “Not really, but I appreciate it.” I glance over my own art at the back of his easel, morbid curiosity eating away at me. As much as I want to see what the resident weirdo drew when he wasn’t trying to burn a hole in my forehead, something tells me it’s better not to know.

Wally’s head turns slightly, following my gaze to his own artwork. “Oh, do you want to see mine?” he asks, not waiting for my answer as he walks over and grabs it off the easel. He stares down at it for a moment, as if ensuring its quality, then turns it around and holding it up for me to see. “I worked hard on it. What do you think?”

Upon examination, I think I should have chosen a different neighborhood to move into, one with less terrifying residents. Staring back at me is a portrait of none other than myself. I’m sitting on a bench, which, after a moment, I recognize as the one under the apple tree where Wally had been the day prior. I look relaxed, leaning back and resting my weight on my hands behind me, my attention drawn to something off to the right. As I scan it over, I note that I wasn’t drawn with the clothes I wore today, but the ones I had on yesterday, down to finest of details. It’s beautiful, and I hate it.

I’m left frozen in place, gawking at the perfect recreation of my likeness in silence. The man doesn’t seem to mind, content to let me take in the details of his piece as he in turn observes my reaction. When I manage to pull my attention back to his face, I stammer out, “That’s…” A hell of a red flag? My worst nightmare on a canvas? A fear I’d have deemed laughable before this moment? “…incredibly realistic.”

Wally turns the painting back to himself, looking down at it with an air of fondness. “I suppose it is. I can’t take all the credit, though.” His eyes look up at me, his head unmoving. “I had a very inspiring model.”

At this, I can feel the two sides of my brain start to feud. The optimistic side makes a good effort to insist that this explains the staring, that he just wanted to get the details right and I was wrong to treat it like a problem. The more realistic side then slaps the optimistic side upside the head and points out that no amount of staring could explain the sheer level of detail in clothes that I’m not even wearing today.

My thoughts continue to conflict with each other, the turmoil so strong that I don’t even register Wally getting closer until he’s barely a foot away from me. I jolt back, nearly falling over. He seems unbothered. “Say, neighbor, would you mind helping me carry all this back to Home? The paintings are delicate, I don’t want them getting crushed.”

Part of me really wants that painting getting crushed, but I don’t dare admit that out loud. Instead, I nod. “Alright, but we gotta hurry. It’ll be dark soon.” Already the sun is casting long shadows, obscured by the trees to the west. Wally and I pack up the paints and fold up the easels, and I balance them all in my arms while he holds the canvases to his chest. Together, the two of us set off towards the house in the center of the neighborhood.

No words are exchanged as we journey through the town. He seems content with the silence, and I’m content to not have to talk to him. It seems the rest of our neighbors have called it a day, Wally and I being the only two people out and about. The weight of the supplies makes my arms ache, but if the alternative is carrying a piece of art that feels just a little too haunted for my taste, I think I can tolerate the discomfort. I don’t know how the hell he managed to drag all of this junk out in the first place.

The sun has sunk down past the horizon by the time we make it to Home, painting the sky a myriad of purples and deep blues. It takes all I have left in me not to collapse upon the porch, made all the worse by Wally’s continued nonchalance as he opens the door and beckons me inside. I brush past him into the living room, dumping my armload of supplies onto the coffee table. With a weary huff, I throw myself down onto his couch to catch my breath, my eyes drooping shut.

“You feeling alright, there, neighbor?” The sofa sinks ever so slightly as he settles down beside me. When I don’t reply, too busy staring at my eyelids and regulating my heartbeat, he speaks with what almost feels like genuine concern, “If you were getting tired, you should have spoken up. I’d have been happy to take a break.”

I shake my head. “Fine, I’m fine. Just need a minute before I head home.”

There it is again, that damn laugh. “What do you mean? This is Home.” The sound of a door squeaking registers in my periphery, and I let my eyes open, squinting against the bright colors of his house. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, his own are glued on my face with a smile that registers as a little too suspicious for my tastes.

An increasingly familiar sense of unease overtaking me, I push myself up and lean away from him, hoping he didn’t notice, yet knowing he did. “I mean yeah, it’s your home, Wally,” I say, “but I have my own home to get back to.”

He lets out a soft hum, and I swear his smile wavers for just a moment. “I suppose you do,” he murmurs, sounding like he was talking to himself more than me. Risking another glance, I’m surprised to see his eyes not on me, but focused on the paintings that he had leaned against his armchair. My portrait, with its flat, distracted gaze, seemed to be staring back at us from the angle at which it stood.

With this newfound distraction from his observation, I move to push myself up off the couch, snapping him out of whatever stupor he’d been wandering in. I make sure to speak before his mouth catches up to his brain. “Well, today’s been… fun, but I think I’m gonna head out.”

I feel a hand clasp around my forearm, and I barely bite back a yelp at the contact. “It’s pretty dark out there, neighbor. Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep here tonight? I think you’d be safer.”

Nope, nope, nope nope nope. I pull my arm away, praying it didn’t look as panicked as it felt. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll have to pass. It’s not that long a walk, I’ll be fine.” I step away towards the door, and my stomach sinks when I hear Wally get up as well.

As I prepare to head out, the same hand settles upon my shoulder instead. “Well, if you’re sure, I won’t stop you,” he drawls, a trace of emotion I can’t quite name evident in his tone. He slips past me, opening the door himself. He tilts his head, eyes locked on mine. “Let’s do this again sometime. Won’t that be nice?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was a challenge. Straightening up, I stand in the doorframe and meet his stare as evenly as I can. “I’m sure it would be.” The evening chill washes over me as I exit Home. “Good night, Wally.”

“Good night, neighbor. Sleep well.” My steps are steady and even as I walk down the porch stairs, and the light still pouring out as I walk away tells me that the door is still open. That he’s still there, still watching me. I hurry along towards my house, being sure to break out of his line of sight as soon as possible. It doesn’t help with the paranoia, but I pretend it does.

Tears nearly stream down my face in relief as I enter my own home and close the door, leaning back against it and sliding down to the ground. I don’t bother getting up, not to eat, not to shower, nothing. I just sit there, alternating between keeping my eyes closed to try and relax and opening them when I see those horrible eyes taunting me in the inky black. As I feel myself drifting off, one final thought crosses into my mind:

I never got my painting back from Wally.

#yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere x reader #yandere welcome home #male yandere #tw yandere #obsessive yandere #yandere #x reader #horror #ain’t he darling

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denpa-dere · 6 months

Note

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always.

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him.

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell.

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much.

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard.

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things.

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape.

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you.

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you.

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you.

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

#obey me fic #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #writing prompts #denpa's transmissions #drabble: writes 900+ words #dis one hit good because im feeling kinda insecure today ty anon :3 hope you like it

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

lonely like me- joel miller x reader series

— ;; chapter one, tombstone

summary: joel miller has wrapped himself in an impenetrable wall of thorns, where nothing of seriousness can ever get to him. you have spent the last five years running from a bloody, violent past, thirsty for revenge. when two unstoppable, stubborn, roughed up forces meet, something soft and unspoken begins to ensue.

warnings: no use of y/n, some original characters, sort of enemies (the bickering type) to lovers, cowboyjoel!au, wild west!au, orphaned reader, bounty hunter!reader, hefty age gap (20s/50s), female reader, I am basically taking so many creative liberties this is pretty much my own story with joel miller in it i am so sorry people, probably going to be a slow burn, tragic backstory, will update as i go <3 lmk if i missed anything!

rating: r, 18+ mdni

word count: 4.2k

note: i will be making a spotify playlist for this eventually. this is my first series pretty much ever, so any comments, recommendations, feedback, critiques are all welcome- so please feel free to comment them! thank you kindly my friends.

The wind was howling, like a pack of grieving wolves.

Beneath the canopy of Texas' barren wasteland, the night sky was aflame with twinkling slivers of white, perfectly painted atop the canvas of navy as the promise of winter soon approached.

You couldn’t remember the last time your back wasn’t aching. With the sudden chill that had blanketed itself over the land, your bones cried out for help more and more with each passing day. You were too young to hurt like this, too young to know a pain like this.

But life was a brutal teacher, and you knew there was no other way through it but to hurt with no respite. A desert with no oasis.

Your horse whinnied beneath you, the leather saddle cool to the touch of your naked hands.

“It’s alright, boy. Only got a day of ridin' left. Just a bit longer and you’ll get all the barley you want.” He liked this answer, sweeping his head to the right with a deep huff out of his nostrils. His heavy hooves continued imprinting against the soft brown earth of the ground beneath.

Fritz was your father’s horse, before the attack. Before you were left with nothing but a wad of cash, a fading Stetson, and an old, stubborn steed. Despite his head strong nature and aging body, Fritz was still a beautiful sight to behold. A buckskin American Quarter with white socks on each leg, accompanied by a thick, luscious black mane and a matching tail that was always brushed out and braided- courtesy of you. Your daddy had, supposedly, wrestled him in the deserts of New Mexico when the both of them were just two young bucks, taming him then and there. A bond was formed, a silent sort of partnership that only a gun slinger and their horse can have.

Well, that's how the story goes, anyway. You were never too sure how true it was.

He still had a wild streak in him, after all these years, after all this suffering. Just like you.

You looked up at the moon. It hung from its dainty piece of silver twine, twinkling against the backdrop of dusk. It had always been a sight to behold in your eyes, a celestial entity so unobtainable, yet one you loved so dearly, so deeply.

An owl hooted to your left, and you heard the leaves of the surrounding vegetation dance against the smoothing rhythm of the harmonic gale.

"We've been out on our own for too long, boy." You whispered to Fritz. He pulled against the leather reigns slightly, and you saw where his head was turning. About two miles south you saw lights flickering. A town. A town much closer than your original stopping point.

"Always were the ones with brains, weren't ya?" You patted his head, steering him in a new direction. "A few days off track won't hurt." Fritz was silent at the sound of your voice, clopping quietly and huffing every so often towards the vibrant town.

As you drew closer you could hear buildings bustling with music, women singing songs and men slamming their cups of beer together, frothy foam clinging to the sides. A sign was posted above the entrance:

TOMBSTONE

Something about this place sounded awfully familiar, but you just swallowed it down, eyes hellbent and searching for the nearest stable. Out there, far off in the distance, stood a creaking barn you figured Fritz would be safe resting in.

Clopping and clacking to the entrance, you saw a tubby man with a newsboy cap on, a cigar hanging beneath a thick, red moustache.

"What can I do ya' fer, ma'am?"

"Need to board him. Got any room?" You asked, pulling yourself off your worn saddle with a hefty sigh. Oh, how your body ached.

"Yeah, I got room." He eyed you and your horse, sniffing. "It'll be $15 dollars for the week."

With an eyebrow slowly raised, you pointed towards the sign. "Says right there it's $10. You tryna bleed me dry?"

His eyes, aged and graying atop the leathery mask of skin he wore, widened with surprise. "Now I ain't never met a girl on her own that can read."

"Now you have. I'll settle on giving you $8, since you tried to play me."

He gave a thick shrug of his shoulders, giving in to your offer. "Fair 'nuff. He gets barley twice a day, dollar extra fer some apples. Fresh hay every two days, can throw in a saddle at the end, for twenty extra, if ya' want."

"Sounds good. Hear that, boy?" You turned to Fritz, gently running your fingers down his dusty muzzle. "Just like I said. All the barley you want." Your loyal steed nudged against your chest, before a thinning, weakly looking stableboy took him in to the darkening barn.

"What's your name anyway, miss?" The old man asked, sitting back down in his chair as you grabbed your bag.

"Don't got one anymore." You mumbled, thumbing through your satchel.

"Everybody's got one."

You ignored him.

"This should cover it. Take care of my boy. I'll give you enough for an apple a day." Stuffing the cash in his hand you turned on your heel, before sweeping back to look at him. "And, trust me, I will know if you're skimpin' on those damn apples." You rested your hand on the holster to your side, fingers brushing the pearlescent handle of your Colt. It was a threat, not a warning.

The man tilted his cap, nodding. "I ain't got no doubt about it, miss."

You walked down the dirty road, the thick air burning your nostrils. It smelled like manure, liquor, and lumber. The streets were nearly barren, except the occasional prostitute smoking outside a door, or a fight in a dark alley you had no business standing around to watch.

Just to the corner, you saw the swinging doors of a decaying saloon, falling apart at the corners, and made your way inside. There was an empty seat at the bar that you made a straight B line for. Beside the empty chair sat a broad man in a leather jacket, head bowed, black rim of his Stetson covering a brow you figured was laced tight, thinking about whatever guilt and bad blood inevitably plagued him.

Your eyes raked down his back, his jacket stretched tightly against it. Clearing your throat, ignoring the feeling which stirred within you just at the sight of this man's backside, you sat beside him, ushering the bartender over.

The smell of cigarette smoke, smooth whiskey, and warm, nutty oak seeped in through your nostrils. You realized it was him. The nameless, faceless man who had not so much as looked to the side, despite feeling your body shift beside his into the seat.

"Well hello there, pretty lady. What can I getcha' this fine Thursday?"

"It's Thursday?" You asked incredulously, studying the bottles behind him.

The bartender, a boy about your age with slicked back blonde locks and a thin patch of hair on his chin laughed at your surprise, nodding. "Yes ma'am. Been out on the road for long?"

You scoffed to yourself. The man beside you twitched his chin a bit, but his face stayed covered by his thick shoulder, eyes still behind the darkness of the shadow his well-fitted, worn, aged hat provided.

"How'd you tell I've been out on my own?" Your words were laced with sarcasm.

You had seen better, brighter days.

When your skin wasn't caked by the thick, dry southern dust, when you wore handmade, tailored dresses the color of lilies and sea foam, when your hair was always clean and curled courtesy of your mama, when you were young and alive and pure and clean. A life you felt was more of a theory, a concept, rather than a memory. A story you had never lived, not for many years. Not since you were a young, naive little girl, forced to live out on her own. Forced to witness the bloody walls, dripping knives, rippling gun shots. Forced to live a waking nightmare.

Now here you were. Cotton trousers stained by mud and tea, vest tearing away at the seams. You barely recognized yourself, whenever you caught a glimpse in a flowing stream or dirty window. You didn't think you were pretty anymore, not like you used to be. But you'd rather take the toughness you had acquired, the grit and the anger you held, over being pretty, soft, feminine.

Well, you were still trying to convince yourself of that.

"You okay?" The bartenders voice snapped you out, and you looked up at him.

"Just a whiskey and sarsaparilla. I like mixing 'em." You explained, and the boy nodded once, turning on his heel to work whatever magic he knew.

The shrouded figure beside you scoffed. "Cowboys don't mix their shit." He grunted out.

Your voice caught in your throat before you could throw back an insult, an explanation, anything. He sounded..... delicious. Angry, tough, worn by life, raspy and rough and.... and your eyes dropped down to his hand, wrapped around the glass of his double shot of what you could only assume was Jim Beam or Maker's. His nails were caked with dirt, palms wide and rough, leathered up by what you figured were decades of hard work. You couldn't see his face, but you knew by his hands that whatever was beneath must have been real nice to look at.

For what felt like the hundredth time, you cleared your throat. "I ain't no cowboy." You finally mumbled, voice tired like a petulant child's.

He chuckled sweetly, lifting his cup up to his lips and downing it in one thick gulp. "Sure do look like one."

"Well, I'm not."

"Just playin' dress up then?"

You rolled your eyes, the bartender handing you an open glass bottle of sarsaparilla and a shot of amber hued liquid. "It's all I had."

And that's when he looked up. You glanced over, not expecting to see that.

Tanned skin, dark eyes, perfect lips. A thick moustache, surrounded by scruffy, graying facial hair. You saw a stray curl fall from the brim of his hat, brown and laced with salty white streaks. His jaw was sharp and tempting, lips wet from his tongue, and his gaze was steady, confident. He was the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on. Time had done him well, the clock had been good to him. He was old, much older than you, no doubt about it, but still so alluring, mysterious, delicious,

"Holy shit." You found yourself whispering.

"Yeah," he grunted while flicking his fingers, ordering another round, "I have that effect on women."

"I'm not a woman. I'm a cowboy, remember?"

"Does this cowboy have a name?" He asked, eyeing you slowly.

"Not one she plans on tellin' you."

He gave a deep shrug of his shoulders, twirling the new cup of liquid between his fingers, before nursing a slow sip. "Mine's Joel." He grunted after a long moment of turning something or another over in his head.

"You said you stole?" You asked, the music of the live band behind your backs playing up louder.

The man rolled his dark eyes, the orbs dripping with honeyed amber, before looking at you. "J-O-E-L. My name is Joel."

"Oh." You said in a moment of understanding. You brought the cup of your mixed liquid towards your mouth, slowly sipping at it. "Well now I just feel like I'm being rude, not telling you mine."

"You are pretty rude, yeah." He agreed, a burning smirk planted on top of his thin lips.

"Well, just for that, I'm not telling you now. You ruined it." Your arms crossed over your stomach, eyebrows stitched together in a grimace.

"Only agreein' with ya. I guess I'll have to come up with my own name then."

"For me?"

He nodded.

"Like what? Just pull one outta your ass? Kate? Jane?"

Joel laughed a deep laugh from his chest. "You're dumber than a bag of rocks, aint'cha?"

Your cheeks heated up, out of embarrassment or anger, you were unsure. "Could be. Not as dumb as you though. J-O-E-L."

"I was thinkin'.... hmmm." He studied your face, and you felt that foreign stir brewing back inside your belly. He traced your features. You wondered what he was thinking. Joel had a light smirk dancing across his mouth, eyes darkening ever so slightly with every new inch of skin on your face he discovered. He poked and prodded you with his gaze, and you suddenly had the urge to cover up. It was like he was undressing you, slithering deep into your soul, unearthing and unlocking secrets you had never confessed to anyone before.

"Yeah, those names'll suit you for now."

"What will?"

"Just have to wait and see."

"Well you don't have much longer to confess. I'm heading out tomorrow." You lied.

Joel nodded. "I am too. Where you headed?"

"West."

"What's West?" He asked, stirring the remaining liquid in his cup.

"Work."

"'S that so? What you do for work?"

You stared at the ridges in the wooden table, white knuckling the edge. Memories you wished to repress came swimming up to the surface of your mind. The metallic taste of blood, the smell of salty tears. Begs and pleas and I'll give you anything you wants and please, just give me some times. Your jaw clenched. Joel took notice.

"I hunt." You finally answered. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Hunt what?" Joel asked, curiosity sparking within him.

You pointed to a few torn posters on the wall with your head.

One, yellowing at the edges with browning letters stood out amongst them all.

HARVEY JONES, 58 YEARS OLD

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE FOR:

MURDER, ARSON, KIDNAPPING.

$5,000 REWARD

"People like that." You muttered, staring at his picture.

Harvey had an old and scarred face, tanned and rough. His right cheek looked like a dog had gotten ahold of him, covered by patchy, gnarled facial hair, and his eyes were cruel, painted through with rage by the steady hand of time, no doubt a victim to the tempestuous waves of life. You swallowed, and Joel watched your eyes gloss over with something he had become well acquainted with: Rage.

"You think he's campin' out West, too?" Joel asked, eyes cemented to the side profile of your face. God damn, were you pretty, he thought. A firecracker.

You nodded slowly. "Wyoming."

"That's where I'm headed."

"What're you running from, Joel?"

"Not runnin' from nothing. Searchin' for my brother, 's all."

You shook your head, eyes meeting his. "Everybody's running from something."

Joel sat in silence, finishing his drink. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm not sleepin' with you." You grumbled into your cup, staring at him from behind the rim.

"Not what I was gonna ask. Nice to know that's where your pretty little head went." He snickered, waving for another drink. Poor bartender, you thought, he must be five drinks in already. You saw the cups piling around him. Damn, could he hold his liquor. The mark of a real man, your pops always used to say.

"What's this proposition then, Cowboy Joel?"

"I go with you, out West. Keep you safe, help you find that Harvey man. I get half the reward for takin' care of you."

"I don't need some disgusting, stinky man takin' care of me."

Joel laughed, that chesty, deep, gorgeous laugh once again, his neck falling back. "Now I know I ain't stinky, darlin'."

Darlin'. That must have been the name. Your cheeks lit with the flame of.... well, something you didn't quite have the name for.

"And you know I ain't no fool." He continued, his voice settling into a sturdy sort of seriousness. "But you don't look like you've been too well out there on your own. How old are those clothes? Four months? Five? Covered in dirt, even though you wash them weekly. Right? Am I gettin' somewhere with this? Your cheeks are covered in scratches. It's rough out there. Rough for any man on his own, not jus' you." Joel raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to nod. And nod you did. You could feel bitter hot tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, continuing your silent sitting.

"Now, let me see you there safe, make sure you get that man for whatever he did to you, and we can go our separate ways. Like nothin' ever happened. Hell, I'd settle for less than half- If I end up likin' you some."

"Okay." You whispered. "Okay." You repeated, louder this time.

"You got a room here for the night?"

You shook your head no. "I just got here, 'n hour or so ago."

"Want to join me in mine?"

"I said I'm not going to sleep with you-"

Joel cut you off. "That's not what I'm askin'. I don't want to see you naked." You narrowed your eyes, for some reason feeling a bit deflated by that comment. "Just figured it'll give you someplace to wash off. Got a tub in mine, you can go up there and get some of that dirt off. I'll stay down here, if it'd make you feel any better."

You saw him pull a key from his back pocket, pushing it towards you. You stared at the little piece of metal before taking it, glancing up at him.

"Do you... do you know if any clothes shops are open 'round here?" You finally asked, almost sheepishly.

"Think there's one down the road, to the left. Could still be open."

You stuffed the key in your bra. "What's the room number?"

"Twelve."

You gave him a nod, pushing your way out of the saloon, feeling the fresh night air hit your cheeks. You gasped for breath, taking in the sensation of the earth soaking its way into your lungs, filling you to the brim with the crisp night. You hadn't realized how hot it was in there, how stifled your chest had become.

"Dammit." You grunted to yourself, leaning the palms of your hands on your knees as you bent over. These weird feelings? Yeah. Not good. "Dammit. Dammit!" You snapped again, this time louder. Your worn boot kicked a pebble across the street, hearing it clang against the metal of a water trough. "Fuckin' stupid asshole."

You walked the directions he had given you, finding a little clothes shop with the lights still on. You ratted your knuckled against the door as you walked in. A pretty lady, about the age of this Joel you had just met, smiled at you from behind the counter, not deterred by your appearance.

"Howdy! Looking for some new clothes?" She chirped, a sweet song-like quality tugging at her words.

"Yes ma'am. Something nice."

"You a rider?" She asked.

"I am, yes ma'am I'm on the road a lot. Need something that lets me move freely." You explained curtly, not meaning to seem so standoffish.

"Have you ever tried a riding skirt? Just got a new shipment in, made from the finest cow hide." She guided you towards a mannequin, showing you the skirt.

It was ankle length and looked heavy, but you felt a shimmer in your eyes once you saw it. The hide was light brown, patches of white and black spots littered throughout. Must have been a pretty cow. You'd look like a proper lady wearing one of these, you thought, a bit like you used to. You shook the thought away. No. You needed tough. Rough.

"I, uh-" You rubbed the back of your neck. "I think I'll just settle for some pants."

"Sure! These are new." She held up a pair of trousers, simple and black, a pair you knew would fit you nice and well.

"Those'll do." You smiled, gently grabbing them from her. She caught your eye, grinning.

"Good! Now we're gettin' somewhere. I think this would look great together." The pretty lady held up a long sleeved white shirt with a black bow, reminiscent of a bolo tie, around the collar. Alongside it, there stood a nice, deep maroon vest, silver embellished buttons lining the middle, a pretty frill at the hems.

"That's pretty." You admitted, grabbing it from her.

"You need a new holster? Boots? Belt?"

"Well, might as well just get it all." You joked, eliciting a laugh from her.

You settled on a thick belt that matched the vest, a silver buckle in the middle with deep florals carved into the material, a real piece of turquoise jutting out in the middle. Your holster was falling apart, so you grabbed on that matched the belt, and a pair of new leather boots that ached when you tried them on. All good boots have to be worn in, you thought, it'll be worth the blisters.

"How about a hat-"

"No!" You rushed out, a bit too brutally, and she took a step back with her hands raised defensively. You coughed a bit, repeating yourself much softer. "No. No thank you, I mean. This hat was my-... it's a, uh, it's a family hat."

There was a long sort of silence, thick and awkward, the kind you hated the most. "Oh, do you have some sort of, like... sleeping shirt?"

"I've got a nightgown."

Grudgingly, you accepted, taking the soft, feminine fabric from her. It was white, with a dainty bow at the low collar. It was... cute. Something the old you would have worn. Something that sweet, pretty little thing of a girl you once were would have swooned over. It filled you with a twinge of pain.

"Thank you." You spoke earnestly.

She smiled, nodding a bit, before taking you to the register. "It'll be $80."

"$80?" You repeated.

"A bit too much for you?"

You thumbed through the wad of cash in your satchel, handing her $100. "No, it isn't enough. You could be making bank in here, lady." You scooped up the bag your new clothes were in, turning to walk towards the door. "Keep the change."

She giggled a giddy laugh, bidding you a sweet and meaningful farewell, before you made your way to the inn, searching for this mysterious door 12.

Once you finally found it, you unlocked it with ease, the lamp on the beside table soon flickering awake with golden life as you flipped it on. The room smelled like Joel. Like wood, smoke, whiskey. It smelled good. You felt your skin prick with goosebumps, and you shook it out of your head. A man has never had this sort of effect on you. You groaned, stuffing your face in the palms of your hot hands.

This was business. Business. Business. Business. That's all it was. All it ever would be. All you would ever let it be.

The bath in the corner was already full with water, untouched, a bar of soap on the table beside it. You stripped, allowing the cold water to soon engulf you as you let out a little yelp, the temperature making your bones ache even more. Your nipples hardened painfully, and you gave one a twist, feeling some odd sort of relief inside of you, caused by that stupid oaf down at the bar.

"God damned fucking water." You grumbled as it sloshed against your face, directing your energy towards being annoyed, before reaching for the bar of soap. You must have scrubbed every inch of your skin, for at least an hour, before you felt clean enough to get out. The water was swirling with dirt and soap suds, and you winced at the sight. Were you really that dirty? You felt embarrassed.

There was a knock at the door. Joel.

You rushed to dry off and threw the nightgown over your head, before he stepped in with a hand over his eyes.

"Now, I ain't tryna' get a peak if you're still naked." He felt around with his free hand, closing the door with a kick of his leg. Something about that made you feel.... some sort of way.

"I'm not naked." You grumbled, and he let his hand drop.

"Well, I didn't take you for the nightgown type. Did you buy that for me?" He asked smugly, his fingers moving to the buttons of his vest.

You rolled your eyes. "No, I didn't." You spat matter-of-factly, taking every ounce of willpower to turn your back to him as he unclothed himself.

"Mhm. Well, better get a good sleep tonight, darlin'. Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

You shuffled your way to bed, refusing to look his way, trying to ignore the new name he had brandished you with, and climbed under the wool blankets, keeping as many feet away from him as possible. You felt his weight shifting against the hard mattress beneath you once he was undressed, the blanket shuffling. You knew his back was turned to yours, obliging your unspoken wish for space. As you stared at the wall, you felt yourself begin feeling silently thankful for a change of pace from the cold, hard ground.

You fell asleep to the lullaby of his snores.

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wastelandmoony · 1 year

Note

I have a Request. Best friends to lovers with James Potter. James potter stealing readers favourite shampoo. The reader notices this while she's in the shower. So angry she wraps a towel around her body and storms up to there marauders dorm with her hair soaking wet. She thinks that it was sirius who took and but she notices James in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair soaking wet. So she reaches to smell his hair only to find out that his hair smells like her shampoo

Hiya! I've actually never been sent a request before, so forgive me if it's rough <3

Summary: James is in love with Y/N, but has yet to make a move and the other Marauders are sick of it.

Genre: Fluff <3

Characters: James Potter x Y/N, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew

Warnings: language, sexual innuendo courtesy of Sirius

A/N: Reader also plays for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, if that wasn't clear.

------------------------------------

The sounds of Queen echoed off the walls of the dormitory as James walked in, hair dripping into his eyes as he pushed back the soaked locks with one hand.

Peter looked up from his Transfiguration essay, “How was practice?”

James shook out his hair, returning his glasses to his face, “Brutal. I’m about to start scheduling doubles on game weeks—“

Remus glanced at the door, letting the book he was reading fall onto his lap, “Is Y/N behind you?”

James turned around, confused, “No? I was just in the showers…”

Remus leaned back against the headboard, “Huh, weird. I thought I smelled her for a moment…”

Across the room, Sirius sat up from his lounged state, “I’d kill for those heightened senses Moony. Imagine how much it’d come in handy during our little…extracurricular excursions—“

“—Just call them what they are, Pads, they’re just pranks,” Remus deadpanned, going back to his book.

“—anyway, speaking of Y/N…Prongsy over here almost got completely decked by a bludger earlier because he couldn’t keep his eyes off her,” Sirius wagged his eyebrows at James.

“Shut it, I was just…making sure her maneuvers were correct,” he tried to control the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure she can maneuver just fine, mate,” Sirius laughed as he dodged a flying chocolate frog box courtesy of James.

James smirked and walked over to his trunk to find a clean jumper.

“SIRIUS FUCKING BLACK!”

Sirius sat up abruptly, color draining from his face, “There’s no way she heard me—“

The door flew open to reveal a towel-clad, fuming Y/N, clutching an empty shampoo bottle in her hand.

James spun around and immediately flushed at the sight of her soaking wet.

She chucked the empty bottle at Sirius, who barely dodged it, throwing his hands up in confused anger.

“What the fuck did I do?!” He yelled as she stalked over to his bed.

“You used the rest of my shampoo, you fucking nob!” Her eyes narrowed.

Sirius laid back down, waving her off, “No I didn’t, it was probably Lily.”

“Let me smell your hair then,” she climbed onto his bed, trying to grab at his long black hair.

“Gerroff me,” he struggled, trying to push her hands away as she attempted to pin him down.

The other three watched in amusement as she finally gripped his head with two hands and smelled the top of Sirius’ scalp.

She sat back on her heels, face contorted in confusion.

Sirius fixed his hair, shooting her a glare, “I bloody told you, it wasn’t me.”

James went back to rummaging through his trunk, a motion that caused her to zero in on his similarly towel-clad appearance.

“Jamie—“ she called, his head popping up from his search. She watched as his wet curls dripped onto his chest, the cogs in her brain starting to turn. Rising from Sirius’ bed, she walked over to James, who froze as she drew closer.

She leaned in, smelling the familiar scent of strawberries on him, “—it was you?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Y-yeah…I ran out and it was the first thing I saw, I’m sorry.”

She smiled sweetly at him, “It’s okay, I have an extra bottle in my room if you want it?”

He nodded a little too quickly, and she turned to run back to her dorm to retrieve the extra shampoo.

The moment she disappeared, Sirius sat up and shot James a look, “You didn’t run out, there’s an entire bottle of that Sleekeazy shit in the shower, I used it earlier—“

“—he just wants to smell her,” Pete chimed in from the floor, eyes never leaving his essay.

James groaned, running both hands over his face.

“You’re hopeless, mate,” Remus sighed from his bed, “Just ask her to Hogsmeade already, put us all out of our misery…”

#james potter fanfiction #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #james potter fluff

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spacer-case · 2 months

Text

...and when the last blood-beast comes to rest unto the Earth, what next will arrive to inherit it?

i drew this sci fi piece for my portfolio, but it also turned loosely into a marcoace au because my brain got zoomies

short version: guy on a joyride (coughs ace) accidentally travels to another world filled with mythological-ish creatures, but they're actually all robots mimicking life with no real sentience of their own - except one lone, lonely consciousness (coughs marco) whose mind was digitally preserved before the rest of organic life got wiped out, and has been waiting a long time for a friend

long nerdy version under the cut:

ace's world is a fun and scrappy sci fi future world, with stuff like his hovercraft that syncs to his body's movements too

he was out riding with deuce and got too caught up in the thrill of flying that he went way out of safe bounds (not pictured: deuce panicking) and got swallowed by a giant sky beast

somehow (i haven't thought that hard about it) he appears in marco's world after this - when i first had this idea i was just thinking of a literal reference to the philosophical concept of animals as other worlds/animal alterity, a la Barbara Noske), plus i like the idea of gateways being where you least expect them

anyway yeah he gets isekai'd

enter: marco's world!! this is a land where organic life once thrived, including sentient beings (i haven't decided if they were also humans), but all organic life has long since died out and given way to a new, constructed "ecology"

it's full of seemingly mythological-ish creatures (phoenix, dragon, etc. but all are also warped from what we would imagine)!! but SIKE they are actually robots; cybernetic constructs!!! each one goes through the motions of life for many years until they steadily break down. their parts get recycled and they are remade to spawn from egg-like structures (like the one in the bottom left corner of the drawing)

and who is remaking them? MARCO! aka the last, lone remaining consciousness from the sentient race that died out. his mind was preserved digitally, but by the time he awoke he only remembers snapshots of his original life. he continuously cares for and builds all the robots, and uploads himself into different bodies whenever he wants, but no matter what he tries he can't recreate anything truly alive with its own free will

so he's lonely and sad

basically the whole thing was an exploration of the concept of a man-made mythos! and the boundaries of what defines life, will, sentience, etc. etc.

but when he meets ace - a real, living breathing organic human - it will change his life! because............because...i haven't thought that far

many questions remain...is ace's world a past version of marco's? will he find a way to restore organic life to marco's world? should he even do that? will he find a way back home? will they kiss? ? will marco get a human body?? will i ever make something bigger from this or even turn it back into ocs instead of op characters??? will they wear wigs???? when will they wear wigs????????? who knows!

but for now it is what it is hehe

i doubt anyone read all that, but if you did, thank you for your time....here i reward you with a secret:

below is an early sketch of this illustration, and underneath that, the composition originally came from A FAILED DRAWING OF MARCO!!!

the brainrot goes deep :')

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sequinsmile-x · 5 days

Text

Quality Time

She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi besties,

This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.

This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.

I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It’s late when he gets home.

He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side.

He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room.

“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.”

“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.”

He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it.

“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”

She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.”

His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily.

She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.”

He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”

She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down.

“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.”

“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.”

She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would.

She’d never be alone again.

“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.”

She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to.

Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again.

She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin.

Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.”

Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress.

She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage.

She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.”

“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”

She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?”

He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?”

She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.”

He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.”

She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest.

“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”

Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.”

She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in.

“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.”

He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.”

“Em.”

___

He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental.

She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him.

“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house.

“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.”

She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.”

He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”

Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!”

When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down.

“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.”

She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”

She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.”

He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.”

She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it.

She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together.

She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.”

“You’re the love of my life too,” he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else.

A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life.

He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.”

He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.”

They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem.

“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.”

She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.”

-x-

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chaotic-orphan · 3 months

Text

Febuwhump: Day Four

“Obedience” — @febuwhump prompt!

If this doesn’t have Ambrose’s name written all over it >:)

Intoxicating Fear — part Xi

Read part one here

Continued from here

TW: forced to obey, mentions of SH, SH implied and referred to, mentions of scars, past Whump implied, past sh implied, past sh inferred, kidnapped Whumpee, captive Whumpee, sadistic whumper,

*~*~*~*~*

Kit walked out of his room a few hours later, looking worse off than before he went in, but Ambrose didn’t question him as he walked over to the kettle and filled it with water. He just sat at the table, watching him as he moved about, doing his best to ignore Ambrose’s stares.

Ambrose had Kit’s phone in between his thumb and index finger, using his fourth finger to twirl it slowly, in a controlled motion over itself and back again.

Kit took a mug out from the cupboard above the counter, spooned three spoons of coffee into a cup clanging the metal spoon into the mug and turning to face Ambrose. He was wedged in the corner, crossing his arms over his chest as he shrugged and asked: “what?”

Ambrose smiled, “what do you mean what?”

“Don’t play coy, Ambrose,” Kit said with a groan, wiping a hand down his face. “It doesn’t suit you. I can hear your cogs turning in your brain.”

Ambrose’s smile turned coy, “isn’t that my power, Mallory?”

Kit scoffed and turned, throwing his hands in the air.

“Whatever,” he mumbled to himself as the kettle boiled, the switch flipping up as the water rumbled soothingly within. “I’ll probably find out soon enough anyway.”

Ambrose’s smile fell when Kit turned his back, his eyebrows drawing together in quiet contemplation, whether to broach the subject or not.

“I’ve been thinking Kit,” Ambrose said after a while.

“Uh-oh,” said Kit, stirring his coffee.

Ambrose smiled, despite himself, at Kit’s inability to shut up sometimes. Kit turned again, steaming hot cup cradled between his palms as he regarded Ambrose with an impassive expression.

“Should I be worried?” Kit asked, taking a tentative sip.

Ambrose let out a soft laugh. “No. It’s actually something that could benefit both of us,” said Ambrose. Kit’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling, then immediately pinched themselves down into a frown, suspicious and on guard immediately.

“I know,” said Ambrose. “You have every right to be skeptical, but I think… after recent events that we should consider a way to do things more effectively.”

Kit’s lips curled back into a snarl, like that of a stray dogs. “You mean you want to be more efficient in how you torture me?!”

“No,” Ambrose said, dark eyes meeting Kit’s light ones, bright with anger. “I think we should be able to have a conversation without getting defensive.”

Kit scoffed, rolling his eyes to the sky. “I wonder, god, gee Ambrose, you’re right. I wonder why the fuck we can’t be civil with each other. It’s a real head scratcher, huh?”

Ambrose’s voice took an edge to it and Kit’s mockery fell vanished in their throat.

“There is no reason we can’t both somehow get along.”

“I don’t know, Rosy,” Kit said, which drew a cutting stare from Ambrose. “Somehow getting along with my torturer is not on my bingo card this year.”

Ambrose laughed. He laughed a moment too long at Kit’s outburst, before he settled his gaze on Kit again and his entire expression went blank like the fucking psychopath he was.

“I could take every single freedom from you, Kit,” said Ambrose, voice full of sadistic promise. Kit swallowed hard, and covered it up with a sip of his coffee. “I could have you on your knees right now begging me to hurt you again—“

“You would just love that wouldn’t you?” Kit snapped. Ambrose inclined his head at Kit, a warning, so Kit shut up.

“The truth of the matter is that I don’t want you to be some drooling, half formed thing,” Ambrose said, leaving the phone on the table and getting to his feet. Kit’s expression faltered for a moment, fear flashing across his features before schooling them neutral again.

Ambrose approached slowly. Kit took an unconscious step back but was quickly reminded that he was standing in the corner of his kitchenette and silently cursed himself for cornering himself.

“I want you to struggle and fight me, otherwise you wouldn’t be as entertaining,” he said getting closer and closer. Kit tightened his grip on the mug to stop his hands from shaking. “I want you to have your free will and be, well, Kit, because you are the most fun I’ve ever had.”

Kit swallowed, wanting to look away but too scared to do it. “Glad to be of service.”

“See?” Ambrose said, eyes bright and voice brighter as he stood in front of Kit, forcing Kit to stare up at him. “You just can’t help yourself.”

Something flittered across Ambrose’s face that Kit couldn’t quite identify. “Your defiance is what makes you so fun, but, it’s tiring subduing you all the time.”

Kit didn’t dare speak, no matter how much he wanted to. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled when Ambrose put his hands on the edge of the counters boxing Kit in more. Ambrose leaned in, teeth bared in a wolfish smile as Kit’s eyes widened and he leaned back awkwardly to try and keep some space between him and his tormentor.

“See? That fear,” Ambrose whispered, as if he was saying a prayer, eyes searching Kit’s face and drinking in every last detail, every minute wince or flinch or hint of discomfort. “You just can’t bury it no matter how hard you try to hide it from me. It’s commendable really, but, this doesn’t have to be just me benefiting from this relationship.”

“Relationship?!” Kit breathed with a scoff, disgust written across his face and lacing every syllable. “I want nothing to do with you!”

“But wouldn’t you enjoy your life a bit more if there were days where I didn’t have to wrestle every piece of your defiance from your body?”

The words left Kit speechless. His chest rising and falling in time with Ambrose’s. The thought of not having to worry about Ambrose’s power invading his mind sounded too good to be true, so foreign. How long had it been since Kit didn’t have to worry about Ambrose torturing him for fun? To worry about what he was going to say in case it flipped a switch in Ambrose’s brain and made him hurt Kit.

Kit was tired. He was exhausted. Life before Ambrose seemed like a dream, not a reality. He missed being ignorant. He missed not having to be terrified every day.

Ambrose got his answer when Kit’s shoulders dropped.

“See? You want it just as much as I do.”

Ambrose leaned back, backing out of Kit’s space and allowing him to stand properly again. Kit’s eyes dropped to the floor as shame flooded his system.

Deferring to a Villain?! Who was he? He was so weak, how could he kid himself into being a Hero when he couldn’t even fight a Villain for himself?!

“What do you suggest?” Kit asked, voice quiet and broken. How could thoughts of freedom take this much life from his body?! The guilt burned red up Kit’s neck, but he couldn’t not concede. He was exhausted. He just wanted a little semblance of normalcy, and if that price was whatever Ambrose named then so be it.

“Your… obedience,” Ambrose said. The words hit Kit in the chest harder than a kick from a horse. His head snapped up, eyes locking onto Ambrose’s in accusation.

“You want my consent to hurt me?!” Kit barked out with a humourless laugh. “No. Absolutely not.”

Ambrose rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Would you just hear me out before making a judgement?”

Kit grit his teeth behind closed lips and nodded.

“I was thinking about it all. The amount of power I have to use to subdue you everyday, not letting you use your power, not letting you leave the house. It doesn’t all happen naturally. My power’s working overtime 24/7 with you. It’s getting exhausting.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed but he said nothing. Oh boo-fucking-who, he thought, torturing someone takes effort, poor Ambrose.

“So I came up with a proposition if you dare to consider it. I will leave you alone for most of the week,” he said, and Kit’s heart stuttered to a stop. It must have shown on his face given Ambrose’s smirk. “I will pop in sometimes, only two or three times a week. All I ask if that you obey this little schedule change without fighting me.”

Kit’s words came out breathless, “so you do want me to consent to being tortured,” he said, an unreadable expression screwing his face up tight.

“Think of it more as consent to not being tortured as you are now,” said Ambrose taking a step closer, closing the gap between them again. He placed a hand on Kit’s cheek, thumb hooked under his chin and tilted Kit’s head up. Dark eyes searching Kit’s. “Don’t you want to be free of me, even if just for a little while?”

Kit’s bottom lip trembled. He did, he wanted it more than anything. He wanted to have some kind of normal life even if it meant agreeing to this outrageous condition. He missed his life, he missed Superhero and his job. He missed grocery shopping and late nights with his friends. He missed being able to make decisions for himself.

“What else does obedience entail?” Kit asked, spitting the word obedience as if it was some monstrous creature.

Ambrose’s eyes shined a little at the question. “It means that when I do come and see you, you drop everything. You can still fight me, still defy me, curse me out do whatever you need to — but you simply accept it.”

Kit worried his bottom lip, eyes going faraway as he considered Ambrose’s proposal. Ambrose stepped away again, turning to lean against the opposite counter in the kitchenette. He crossed his arms over his chest again, regarding Kit as he mulled everything over.

“I can see you’re conflicted, Kit, so let me sweeten the deal,” that got Kit’s hesitant eyes back on Ambrose. “If you agree to this, I won’t attack another Hero.”

It seemed as if all air left Kit’s lungs, like an anvil had fallen from the sky and landed on Kit’s shoulders weighing them down suddenly. This was Ambrose’s ultimate cruelty. Appealing to Kit’s heroic nature, forcing him to be a martyr and shoulder the burden of Ambrose’s torment to save other heroes, the people he loves. His friends, hell, at this point his family.

Kit swallowed hard. He didn’t want to be heroic, he didn’t want to shoulder this unfair burden. He didn’t want to protect everyone from this torture, he wanted… he just wanted to be left alone.

If you agree to this, I won’t attack another hero.

Which really was a double edged sword.

If you don’t agree to this, I will attack another hero. Take another Hero hostage, do everything I’ve done to you and more. Break them, and when they break I will let you know that it’s all because you didn’t take my deal. Then Ambrose would probably present the deal to Kit again and Kit would take it, the guilt forcing his hand.

“I can have a normal life?” Kit asked, not meeting Ambrose’s gaze.

“Semi-normal, but I can’t see why not,” Ambrose replied.

“And I’m guessing I can’t tell anyone about our little arrangement?” Kit asked, voice mutinous. Ambrose stepped closer and put a hand on Kit’s shoulder. Kit suppressed a flinch, he hated Ambrose touching him. Kit glared up at Ambrose.

“If you like I can make you forget about it all until you see my face, then you could really live a life.”

“In ignorance,” Kit spat, batting Ambrose’a hand away. “No thanks. I’d rather know what’s coming than be caught unaware again.”

Ambrose smirked. “Fine by me.”

Kit licked his lips, passing his coffee cup into his left hand before extending his right to Ambrose. “Fine then. Deal.”

“Ah,” Ambrose said, holding up a finger, “I think we should try this out before you accept.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed and let out a soft tch of disapproval. He knew Ambrose wasn’t going to make it as easy as he made it out to be.

“You’re already reneging on your deal,” Kit said, looking to the side and taking a long, slow sip of his coffee. Ambrose stepped back again to lean against the opposite counter.

“I’m not, just consider this a test,” said Ambrose thoughtfully, rolling the words around his mouth thoughtfully before speaking. Kit rolled his eyes and set his mug down on the countertop with a dull thud.

He shrugged his shoulders and said: “fine. What do you want me to do?”

Ambrose’s eyes lit up in that eerie way they did when he got an awful idea to further humiliate or caused Kit pain.

“Let’s start with something easy,” said Ambrose simply, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. “How about… sit?”

Kit scoffed and walked towards the chair beside the table. Ambrose’s voice stopped him again with a soft, “Ah.”

“What?” Kit demanded. “You said sit. I’m going to sit.”

“I didn’t say sit on a chair, Mallory.”

Kit’s eyes burned as well as the tips of his ears, shoulders bunched up. He clenched his fists at his sides and turned to face Ambrose again.

“What? You want me to sit on the ground? Like a dog?”

“Your words,” said Ambrose with an innocent smile. “Not mine.”

Kit grit his teeth, glaring up at Ambrose and keeping eye contact as he bent his knee and dropped to the ground. He planted his butt firmly on the ground and crossed his legs.

“Now,” Kit spat. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Good,” said Kit, moving to get to his feet again. Ambrose pressed a boot down on Kit’s ankle to stop him from getting up. Kit clenched his fists tight but settled himself back onto the ground.

“I didn’t say you could get up, Mallory,” Ambrose chides, removing his foot from Kit’s ankle.

Kit crossed his arms across his chest in a huff like a child throwing a tantrum but he didn’t care. He didn’t care what Ambrose thought of him.

“You’re such a dick,” said Kit, grumpy.

“Look at you, you’re adorable. Are you pouting?”

Kit bared his teeth up at Ambrose in reply. “Okay, you can stand up now,” said Ambrose.

Kit scoffed and remained stubbornly on the floor. “Fuck you.”

Ambrose shrugged theatrically. “Fine, I guess I was expecting too much of you when I proposed my deal.”

An obvious ploy for Kit to protest, but still Kit couldn’t do anything but protest. The thought of freedom… it was too enticing to say no to.

“Wait,” Kit grumbled, casting his eyes to the floor as his mind screamed at him for obeying Ambrose at all. Of his own free will!“Just… wait.”

Kit swallowed hard and got to his feet, still not meeting Ambrose’s hungry stare. “Kit,” Ambrose said, but Kit still didn’t look at him.

“Kit, look at me.”

Kit felt his blood flood his cheeks with humiliation as he raised his head to meet Ambrose’s gaze. His hands were shaking, with anger or frustration or shame Kit didn’t know, but he knew they were shaking and that he didn’t want them to.

“Show me your scars,” said Ambrose.

Kit took a step backwards, as if Ambrose had just assaulted him. His lips curled up and he cut his hand through the air as if to say enough.

“No,” Kit said, voice thick. “No.”

Ambrose tilted his head to the side. “Will I have to say everything twice, Mallory?”

“You are fucking loving this aren’t you?” Kit hissed, throwing his hands up in a helpless sort of gesture. “Whether I agree to your deal or not it doesn’t matter because you still get to hurt me like this. You’re fucking sick. You disgust me.”

Ambrose stared at Kit’s emotional outburst like one would judging the weather from their bedroom window in the morning. “Do I have to say it again, or are you flat out refusing?”

“Fine!” Kit snapped, voice higher, almost hysterical. Kit reached up to grab the collar of his shirt and hoisted it over his head to reveal his back, not taking it off all the way. He turned his back to Ambrose and said: “that one on my left shoulder? That’s from a nasty run in with Other Villain when Another Hero called for aid on a mission. I got it from his fucking scythe if you can believe it—”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Here,” said Kit, turning again and shrugging his shirt back on before lifting the bottom of it to reveal the scar just above his hip. It wasn’t one but three. “Villain’s whip,” Kit told Ambrose. “It stung like a bitch but she only ever caught me once with it.”

Kit flung his shirt down and grinned at Ambrose. “There, Rosy. I showed you my scars. I obeyed your fucking command. Are you happy?”

Ambrose hummed in the back of his throat. “We must be spending too much time together, Mallory. You’re starting to understand the power of words.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You learn to when your freedom is limited by them.”

Ambrose didn’t say anything for a moment. He pursed his lips together, taking his hands from his pockets.

“Perhaps the deal was too premature,” Ambrose said. Kit’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, his throat suddenly dry at the prospect of losing his chance at a semi-normal life again. “I’m sorry Kit,” said Ambrose. He meant it too, because he turned to go but Kit’s hand shot out before he could stop himself and grabbed Ambrose’s arm stopping him from leaving.

“Kit?” Ambrose asked, looking down at the hand on his arm then at Kit’s face which was hidden behind his hair, his head tilted down.

“Okay,” Kit whispered. “I’ll show you… you just… you have to use the right words.”

Ambrose stiffened under Kit. “Which are?”

“You said show me your scars. The scars on my arm? They’re not mine,” Kit continued in that same grave, self-hating voice. He raised his head to meet Ambrose’s black eyes with his own haunted gaze. “They’re yours. I didn’t earn them, they mean nothing to me. My scars are mine, wholly mine. I got them.”

Kit ignored the way his voice cracked and let Ambrose go, rolling up his sleeve. “Not these. I didn’t get these, they were forced on me, much like you are. So there. Have I passed your fucking obedience training, or do you want me to bark?”

Ambrose couldn’t help but be a little impressed at Kit’s speech. He didn’t even look down at Kit’s arms the whole time that Kit spoke. He was too focused on the spark of defiance that defined Kit in his mind. The way it left a strange sort of glow to Kit’s features, made them brighter, more animated and life like. As if fighting back the rage he wanted to scream at Ambrose was going to energise other parts of his body.

He didn’t tremble once. He didn’t shake. Everything he said he was certain of, and he didn’t fear any retribution because of it. Ambrose wanted to see more of it, not less, and he feared if he kept Kit isolated and locked away from life forever that spark would dwindle down into nothing. He could search the entire planet ten times over and never find something like it again.

Ambrose smiled. “No Kit. You proved that you can do what you say.”

Kit’s eyes went to Ambrose’s with that same delicious conviction. Ambrose stuck his hand out and Kit shook it.

“I think we have a deal.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage roll call (tag-list, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3 ): - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland

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blayresmuses · 2 years

Note

smutty soft dom daemon one shot with his handmaiden 🫣🫣

say yes to heaven

summary: you and daemon have never went further than flirting until one night the tension becomes too much.

warnings: softish!daemon, fem!reader and female masturbation, sexual themes

‘how do i look Y/N?’

you straightened daemons tunic one last time. when you deigned to look up at him, he was wetting his lips, his eyes bright with nothing other than mischief. your eyes focused in on his mouth, your brain tumbling down a rabbit hole of thoughts that were less than proper.

and like the arsehole he was daemon smirked.

he knew. you knew that he knew. everything the man did set your every nerve alight. the lust and desire, you’d never felt such a thing before and daemon being daemon never failed to rub your nose in it. subtle touches here and there, brushing your hair behind your ear, whispering to you and laughing when you blushed. he revelled in it almost, enjoying the pleasure he got from teasing you.

you took a steadying breath and tried to look composed. ‘you look suitable for a wedding, my prince,’ you answered, giving him nothing to boost his ego even more.

daemons eyebrows lifted in surprise but a chuckle left his mouth anyway. ‘you flatter me, Y/N,’ daemon replied, taking a step towards you, crowding every one of your senses as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. he leaned in and the feel of his breath against you made you shudder. ‘i had assumed you’d have something nicer to say since you’re always admiring me.’

you smiled falsely, your gaze turning sweet all of a sudden even though being so close to him made your knees want to buckle. you’d play his game with him, he might be able to see how attracted you were to him but you’d never have to admit to it. ‘you’re fine clothes do nothing to hide what you are, you’re still a rogue underneath aren’t you?’

quickly, before you could even draw breath daemon had your head cradled in his hands, his grip tight and unyielding as he drew down to your height. you were supposed to be intimidated but you loved every second of it, the empty aching already blooming between your thighs. ‘watch your mouth or it’ll get you into trouble.’

‘and if i don’t?’ you were shocked at your own bravery, the words having slipped out without thinking.

daemon grinned and it was a chilling sight to behold. he straightened and removed his grip on you. you hated it but your stomach sank in disappointment as you watched him walk away towards the door, not even sparing you another glance. ‘then i would have to teach you a lesson wouldn’t i?’ he said to you over his shoulder. ‘be here when i get back.’

your mood grew fouler as the hours passed. not only were you growing tired but you were slowly drowning in everything daemon. the smell of him was everywhere, his possessions, his spirit almost. he was haunting you, consuming you whole. the chambers alone sent you on edge and with nothing to keep you entertained you could do nothing but think of him.

he was down there surrounded by dozens of gorgeous women, highborn women that you could never come close to. jealousy was an ugly emotion you knew but it was eating you alive. you wanted to dance with him, be seen in public with him and be something more than just his handmaiden.

the slamming of the door made you jump and you quickly snapped out of your depressive thoughts. daemon entered, looking contented and pleased. of course he was, he’d enjoyed a wedding and the party that followed suit whilst you’d sat around all day and into the night waiting on him.

you jumped up out of your chair instantly and stormed over to him, immediately you tried to get him out of his tunic so you could finish your duties and get out of the personal hell you found yourself in. ‘is there a problem Y/N?’ daemon queried, amusement dancing on his features. ‘i normally like to undress my women first before myself.’

my women.

‘some of us have been up since the crack of dawn running about after arrogant arses like yourself,’ you snapped, finally able to get the material loose on him. ‘then you swan off to enjoy yourself and leave me sitting here alone, for hours.’

‘what did i tell you about the attitude, my darling Y/N?’ the pet name rolled from his tongue so prettily your mouth fell slightly open, the anger drifting from you with every heavy breath you took. ‘i thought you’d be happy to see me, didn’t you miss me?’

the cockiness dripped from daemon’s very pores as he shrugged off his tunic and dropped it to the floor. the effect he had on your body was maddening, your body was already heating up at the sight of him. his short hair was messier than when he’d left and you could smell the sweet scent of wine on his breath when he took a step closer to you, tilting your chin up with his thumb. ‘i’m tired daemon.’

but you’d caught a glance of yourself in the mirror not a moment before and you didn’t look tired at all. you looked more awake than you’d ever seen yourself, eyes bright with flushed cheeks. he had this effect on you, he made you come alive and he loved it. your chest rose and fell in anticipation as daemon lowered and brushed a kiss against your cheek and then the other one. wildfire burned through your whole body as one hot hand grasped the small of your back, so warm you could feel it through the fabric of your dress.

‘my apologies for leaving you so lonely tonight,’ daemon whispered, picking up your hand and leaving a kiss there too. you didn’t know what had gotten into him, you didn’t care really. your stomach was filled with butterflies, your brain so hazy you felt drunk. you couldn’t imagine what state you’d be left in if he actually touched you. ‘let me make it up to you. a reward we’ll call it, for being so good to me.’

your head dropped back as you rose up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself right into him. daemon groaned, his cock rubbing against the softness of your tummy. his hand dropped down over your bum to grip your thigh. it was growing more inappropriate as the seconds ticked by but your body physically tensed at the mere idea of pulling away.

‘we shouldn’t,’ you said breathily. ‘daemon-‘ you were cut off when his mouth pressed greedy, open mouthed kisses against your neck. you were gone in that moment. your hands fisted in the fabric of his undershirt and with impatience you positioned yourself so you could make all your dirty thoughts come true and kiss him.

it was soft at first, a little bit of insecurity coming through on your part as you realised how experienced he was compared to you and so you moaned when daemon took control, using both hands to cup your face and bring you to him. you let out needy breaths into his mouth, burning completely for him. when he pulled away you expected some sort of degrading comment about your desperation but his gaze was soft as he thumbed at the swollen pout of your mouth. ‘let me touch you,’ daemon urged, his own eagerness shining through. it flattered you, you felt yourself heat up even more but another part of you felt oddly emotional having finally been validated - your feelings weren’t one sided after all. ‘i’ll make you feel good, sweet girl. i swear it.’

a nod was all it took for him to have his hands in the silk of your dress, not bothering to be careful either and with murmurs of i’ll buy you another he managed to tear the material from you. it spilled around your feet and you stood there bare in front of him. daemon wasted no time in backing you in the direction of his bed, his expression turning into something more predatory.

‘do you know how good you are Y/N? how beautiful?’ daemon praised as you gently fell back into the sheets. his eyes devoured every detail of your body but you weren’t scared, not of being so vulnerable when you could make out the ridge of his cock through his trousers. the intenseness of his gaze made you shiver, you felt wanted, desired. ‘men would fall at your feet but they can’t, can they? because you’re mine. all mine.’

a gasp slipped through your parted lips when daemon slid his finger down your slit, not touching any particular spot but driving you mad with want all the same. ‘no one else could do this to you. look at you,’ daemon murmured, holding his finger up into the candlelight so you could see it glisten with the proof of how much you ached for him. ‘do you normally get this wet when you think of me?’

deep inside you knew the words should make you embarrassed. although you weren’t from a particularly wealthy family you should still act like a lady but here you were writhing naked in the princes bed. shutting off those thoughts you nodded your head, wetting your lips before you answered. ‘yes daemon,’ you breathed, flushing at your own honesty. it was nerve wracking but you continued, wanting to please him. ‘late at night, when i’m alone, i think about you.’

daemon hovered over you, the most comforting shadow you could imagine. he came down over the top of your body, both hands supporting himself by your head with one knee in between yours to keep you spread. it was hard not to grind yourself downwards, your cunt trying to find any pleasure it could. stray strands of his hair fell down over his forehead, small beads of sweat gathering there too. you found him to be so otherworldly attractive, a feeling you’d never encountered before. ‘show me.’ it was a demand, delivered in a tone of voice that sent sparks of pleasure straight to your clit. ‘touch yourself for me.’

your body was practically trained to obey his every wish. slowly you edged your fingers down your sides, over the swell of your hips. daemons heavy breaths accompanied your movements, his keen eyes watching like you were the most fascinating sight in the seven kingdoms. ‘what do you think about?’ daemon asked, his voice a delicious rasp that had your back arching as your fingers finally met your inner thigh. ‘what kind of filthy things does that sweet mind of yours come up with?’

you gasped first, one finger finally coming into contact with your clit before it travelled down to gather the wetness that had gathered at your cunt. you easily slid two in, thrusting slowly as your thighs threatened to close around deamon’s leg. ‘everything,’ you whimpered, the words a struggle to release. ‘the way you look at me, the way you touch me, the things you say but you’re not doing it to tease me, you want me. in all the ways that i want you.’

you couldn’t help but tear your eyes from his form, the admission leaving a burning sensation in your throat. it was the first time since your dress came off that you really felt bare, having given him some semblance of admission. you were sure he’d only use your feelings to his advantage. your fingers kept moving even as your eyes burned. ‘look at me,’ daemon commanded, using the tips of his fingers to move your chin. your eyes met his, a storm of emotions swirled in them but the one that came through the most was fire. lust and desire, passion - all for you.

daemon took his cock in one hand, gripping it through the material of his trousers before using it to slide against your clit. it was exquisite, the roughness of the fabric but more so just having the tiniest feel of him against you. you wanted him inside you, so badly your mouth practically watered as he did it again, a smirk ghosting his mouth as he watched your reaction. ‘see, you can feel that can’t you,’ daemon said. ‘solid proof of how badly i want you Y/N.’

a gentle kiss was pressed to your mouth and you eagerly reciprocated, a whine escaping you when he left your clit neglected once more. daemons tongue took your mouth, it was sloppy but it had your toes curling and your thighs wrapping around his waist. your fingers moved faster in desperation as daemon took your bottom lip between his teeth. ‘i’ve never wanted anything more,’ he groaned as he watched the erotic movements of your body.

‘please daemon,’ you begged wantonly, throwing your pride out the window. ‘i want you, i want you inside me. please.’

‘as much as i love hearing you beg so prettily,’ daemon praised, bending down to suck your nipple into his mouth. ‘you’re going to make yourself cum first, i’m going to see what the mere thought of me can do to you.’

you huffed but didn’t disobey, your fingers slipping out covered in your wetness. you brought them up to your clit and began rubbing it in tight circles. you felt momentary relief at the sensitive spot finally being given it’s attention but as time passed you grew more needy, chasing your relief as daemon stared you down, his mouth open at the sight of your writhing form underneath him.

your pleasure finally hit its peak and you purposely stared daemon in the eye as you climaxed, moans of his name falling from your swollen lips. your whole body shook from the intensity of it. ‘beautiful,’ daemon praised, his thumb coasting over your cheekbones as you recovered with deep breaths.

you watched as he dragged it down over your chest, down your body until he got to the sensitive skin you’d just touched so dutifully for him. you were overstimulated, a broken cry filled the room as you arched against him, unsure of wether to back away from his touch or beg him for more. you slapped his hand away halfheartedly, not bothering to try a second time when he easily slipped back to you. ‘now, now Y/N,’ daemon tutted. ‘you've had your turn, its mine now.’

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic

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hopepetal · 1 year

Text

The Boob Window

@applestruda I SPEEDRAN this. you're welcome.

“I think we should all have boob windows.”

The statement caused Mumbo to spit out his drink, much to the amusement of Pearl and Impulse. Grian was too busy yelling at Scar, his face a bright pink from the man’s very forward words. All Scar did was lean back with a smug smile, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I’m just sayin’! It would be like… an emblem! A uniform, even! Whenever people saw a boob window, their mind would be all like ‘ah, yes, the boatem knights’.”

“Scar,” Pearl began, her laughter silent but causing her whole body to shake, “no one here wants a boob window other than you.”

“She’s right, you know,” Mumbo tacked on, “and besides, we don’t want boob windows to be the first thing people think of when they think of us.”

“Not everyone here is as well-endowed as you anyway,” Pearl continued, wiping away tears. “It would be a waste of time. And money.”

Scar frowned, dramatically pouting. “You guys are no fun. We could even have the team name be changed!”

Impulse scratched the back of his neck. “Do we even want to know?”

“Well, I’m curious.” Grian turned to look up at Scar. “What were you thinking?”

Scar grinned. “Oh, y’know… the B in Boatem could stand for boob window!” The exclamation drew groans from the rest of the knights.

“Yes, that’s all well and good, but what does the rest stand for?” Mumbo pressed, leaning forward and folding his hands together on the table.

Scar took a moment to think, before his eyes lit up. “Boob window, oob window, aoob window, toob window, eoob window, and moob window!”

Grian started cackling. “Scar!”

Pearl shook her head, still grinning. “Yeah… no.”

“Hmph. Well, maybe… ooh! Boob window… optional, although the emblem makes us a team!” Scar seemed particularly proud of that one, but Impulse shot him down.

“Too many words. Anything else you got in that brain of yours?”

“Of course my good man, of course! If that’s too many words, may I suggest… oatem?”

A resounding ‘no’ sounded out from the other knights. Scar slumped down, and for a moment all seemed lost. Then, with a gasp, he shot back up.

“Ooh! How about… Boob window on a tit extremely massive!”

Silence. Then everyone began to laugh again, even Mumbo joining in this time.

“You know,” Pearl said once the laughter had died down, “I don’t hate it.”

Scar cheered. “Does that mean you’ll consider the boob windows?”

“Absolutely not.”

#my writing #fluff #humor #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #pearlescentmoon #pearl #grian #mumbo jumbo #impulse #boatem knights au

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stillxnunpxidintern · 2 months

Text

Demon Marco x Afab Reader x Angel Smut

18+ mdi, possible dubious consent, I'm sure if it is or not but letting people know anyway.

(I was listening to a MarcoAce playlist, when my brain went oooo what if Marco was Demon and Ace was an Angel, with them a trying claim you as their own, and ends in a threesome happens. I can't write smut well but here is it anyway)

Ace is kind of your self pointed guardian angel, it's not actually his job to watch over you but he does anyway because he has become so infatuated with you and seeing you going out with anyone drive him mad as the thought of anyone touching you that isn't him make him want to smite that person.

When your sleeping he will watch you sleep and caresses your face, moving hair from your face and peppers your head and face with kisses, but there times when he wants to do more, especially when your having an intimate dreams and moaning/whimper in your sleep, sometimes even begging for more.

Upon first seeing you, Marco knew you were something special and stalked you, wanting to know what it is about you that drew him in. When you're out on dates he will whisper in your ear about how vile and horrible the person, making you no longer want to see them.

He likes to invade your dreams, turning your pleasant dream into a sexual dream, where he would tease and edge you for felt like hours, saying that he was the only one who could give you wanted and then just before you got come, Marco would make you wake up, causing you to feel completely frustrated, so you would use your hands or toys, while trying to remember the dream, to finish yourself off.

Ace always watched as you woke up and then watched as you made yourself come, having to restrain himself from touching you but each time it got harder as he got closer, until it was to much for himself and couldn't help himself, as he put his mouth and hands were on you, making you come hard, which made him from that point to keep touching you when fucked yourself.

It didn't long for Marco to notice that you haven't been as frustrated of late, decided to come see you personally to see, by following you into a club and seduced you, as you took him home.

Upon entering your home, you were pinned against a wall with both hands above your head, as Marco dominated your mouth, pulling your clothes off before he took you to the bedroom, where he dropped on the bed and kneeling in front of you and kissing up legs, leaving bite marks on both inner thighs, as his mouth and tongue soon found you soak, as he drove in like he never eaten more, sucking on your clit and tongue entering you.

He had you moaning and begging for more as you were so closer to coming, when the room is filled with a bright light making you squeeze your eyes shuts as hurt with how bright it. When it was gone you saw that there were now two figures in front of you, one with wings and other with horns and tail.

You noticed that Marco, the dude from the club, had horns and tail being surrounded by blue and gold flames. You tried to crawl away from them but the tail wrapped round you leg, pulling you back to him, as his fingers began teasing you now.

The figure with the wings began to snarl at the Marco, demanding he let go what was his but the Marco just gave them a lazy smile, and told them there was plenty of holes to go around if they want to join.

While the figure was deciding, Marco had you crying and begging for more, as he started whispering how much you wanted the angel to join, so far gone with pleasure you agreed, if he let you come. He called you a good pet and let you come.

The figure agreed to join and as he told you that his name was Ace, before his hands and mouth were on you. You found that your pleasure was intensified, having two mouths on you and two sets of hands on you. You used Marco horns to steady yourself as you rode him, while his tail teased and probed your back entrance before moving around to the front of you and moved down your body, till it was pressing against your clit, send pleasure through you as clenched around around Marco, which drew a hiss from him before you fell against demon breathing hard.

Ace watched you for a moment before he moving behind you and began to ease one finger and then another finger in to your ass, as he started to work and stretch you for him, before grabbing the lube and coating his cock, before easing into you but you clenched at the discomfort the deep he got. While Ace was telling you to relax, Marco took one of you breast in his mouth and bite down with his sharp teeth, making you cry out in pain, before letting go and lapped at the blood he drew before tugging and sucking on your nipple, as he moved his tail away and replaced it with his hand, rubbing slow circles your clit, making you whine as it wasn't enough.

With you momentary distracted, Ace was able to fully bury himself in you, and having two cocks in you, you felt so full. Ace let you get to used to him before nearly pulling out and slammed back in, making you gap before he stopped.

With neither of them moving, you had to beg them to move as you need more, and with that they started to move, slowly drawing whines from you, as you tried to get them to go faster, but they kept their slow agonizing pace as they were enjoying you beg for more, until Marco stuffed his tail in your mouth silencing you, as he pulled out and slammed back making you scream around his tail.

As their pace began to pick up and kept going, setting unhuman pace as they both slammed back into you, making you moan around his tail, crying out their names as you came but they kept going, drawing more orgasms from you, until they came, painting your insides white.

While coming Marco bit into your neck, leaving his mark and claiming you as his own from now on, letting over demons know you were his. Ace splayed his hand on your sternum and breasts, as he branded his hand on your skin, claim you as his own as well, warding off any angels, demons or creatures, that weren't Marco, as the demon has got his own claim on you now.

When you finally collapsed against Marco chest, you thought that was it, you were overstimulated and everything was sore, and just wanted to rest, but you quickly found that it wasn't as you were moved around. So now you were face Ace with Marco behind you, but you could feel that they were hard and tried to move away not wanting to take more but their hold on you stop, with Marco claws dug into your thighs, making you whimper.

Ace started cooing out, as his fingers moved down to your body to your cunt, and entered you as he curled them hitting that sweet spot, making you cry out and told them no more. They instead started whispering and prising you, saying how well you took them both and its only right they got to try the other hole. Before you could responses, you had both cocks back in you, make you moan with a cry as you arched your, which allowed Ace to take one breast in his mouth, using his teeth to bite and pull your nipple, before swapping to the other one, as both Angel and Demon fucked you harder, leaving more marks on you, making you forgot how many time they got you come, and cried with how overstimulated you.

This time when they came, it felt like it was never ending and when they pulled out, they watch as you flopped down on the bed exhausted and so close to passing out, watching as their cum leaked out of both your holes.

Marco used to his tailed pushed some of the leaking cum back inside you, what made you cry out as you felt it probed and enter your abused cunt, before his tail left and was pressed against your lips and entered your mouth, making you it clean of and that was last thing you remembered before passing out.

When you woke in the morning, you entire body was sorer than you ever felt it before, as you remembered the intense dream you had with an Angel and Demon, but quickly found that it wasn't a dream, as you still had cum leaking out of you, with dried cum on your thighs as well as being covered in bite marks, cuts and bruises.

You stumble on weak legs to the bathroom and stood under the hot shower, with your eyes closed as you cleaned yourself off. Just when you were about to turn the shower off, your eyes snapped open as you felt hands on you but saw no one, and was pushed up against the wall as one hand played with a breast and the other one moved down till it was your groin and soon two fingers slipped in and began thrusting quickly, followed by a third finger, just as they curled and hit that sweet spot which made you see stars with cry as you came and fall to your knees.

With the hands were vanishing from your body, it took you a good few minutes to get your breathing under control and find the strength to stand up and walk.

Walking back into your bedroom there were two people, Marco and Ace, the Demon and Angel from the night before, with a look of unbridled lust on their face, which made you realise you were in for more of the same, as the marks on your chest and neck began to grow hot and throb, with the need to be touched by them, racing through your body.

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