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starstruckgrrl · 6 months

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♡﹒"make me behave like an animal !! " ~ tamaki amajiki

┆︎ ☆ synopsis: tamaki was never really known for confidence, so his love life was barren compared to all the other big shot heroes. so when you come along, he's addicted. ₊˚๑ warnings: virgin fetish, smut, sub!tamaki, overstimulation, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, dom!reader, afab reader, reader is wearing a skirt, praise fetish, oral (m receiving), consent is sexy. cum swallowing, a whole lot basically a/n: pls request sum stuff!! i looveee to write for y'all >;3

tamaki is dressed up in a suit that is tailored perfectly to him, showing off the toned body he's spent years creating. he doesn't feel good though, as he just left the bi-annual ranking ceremony of the top heroes. those things always make him anxious. reporters sticking microphones in his face, expectations placed upon him... even thinking back to what he said makes him want to curl up into a ball. now, he's sitting in a little ... coffee shop? bar? he doesn't know what it actually is, but he's got privacy in his booth and that's all he needs right now. until you walk over to him, outfitted in your waitress uniform your boss required of you to work there. the hem of the dress barely covered the plush of your thighs, and tamaki caught himself gawking for a moment before he turned away, flushed. you stop in front of his table and flash him a smile, setting his green tea down. he nervously smiles back and thanks you, and you straighten up and saunter away, almost teasingly.

it takes him a moment to recover as drinks his tea and takes deep breaths to calm down from that, and the anxiety-inducing day he's had in general. he can’t focus on anything that happened earlier in his day though, still thinking about the pretty smile you gave him and the way your legs moved as you walked away from him. a whole lot of murmuring to himself and semi-perverted thoughts later, he’s ready to pay and head home to rest.

it’s just you and one other co-worker on the job tonight, so you’re working the register as he pays. you hand him his cash back, along with a napkin with some writing on it.

“thank you !” he stammers out

you smirk at him and reply, “you’re welcome, suneater.”

a few days later, the hero is nervously fidgeting with the napkin that had your number and name written on it back at his pent house.

he had called you the day after you had given him your number, and you had been texting each other since then. you boldly initiated most, if not all, conversations between the two of you. it’s not that tamaki was dry, he was just so nervous.

yesterday, you asked him if you could come over and check out his beautiful house his hero money could afford him. he, of course, said yes excitably.

he thinks you’re perfect. you’re confident, intelligent, and hardworking. even if you aren’t working a high-end job, you still put in effort to make the best out of it. even through texts, your personality shines and your ambitions are clear. how could he possibly say no to you?

tamaki starts to get ready, putting on a button up shirt and pants that seem a little too formal for just a friend coming over to hang out, but he wants to make a good impression. he’s excited to see you.

after he’s finished tidying up his living room, his doorbell rings. he opens his door to find you, standing there in a skirt even shorter than the one that was apart of your uniform and a cute tank top that accentuates your tits.

he noticeably gapes for a moment before welcoming you inside, blushing intensely. you giggle a little at his cute mannerisms and he offers you some tea and a little tour, which you accept.

he shows you around the house, telling you the stories of all the little heirlooms he has around, and the two of you end up bonding over similar interests. you notice the way he looks away nervously when your eyes meet, and you can’t help but think he is adorable.

tamaki is just too sweet to resist.

one minute, he’s sitting you down in his living room, on the couch, offering to watch a movie or a tv show, the next, your face is a few inches from his.

“you’re really too cute, suneater.” you tell him, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“th.. thank you, i think you’re cute too, not in like a weird way but like…” he mutters out, shocked by your sudden closeness.

you cut off his stammering and embarrassment by kissing him softly, only for a few moments. you pull back from him, and even after one kiss he's left breathless. "do you want to go further?" you ask him before you try anything else. he quickly nods, and you know you've got him in the palm of your hand. you kiss him again, but deeper and slowly. tamaki starts to breathe heavily through his nose, leaning into the kiss intensely. he's sloppy and uncoordinated, practically screaming "virgin", so you had to ask. "are you a virgin, tamaki?" his face heated up, and even though you probably knew the answer by the look on his face, he still nodded. "aww, sweet boy," you cooed, "don't be embarrassed, i can lead you through it." you pushed him to lay on his back on the leather of the couch and he looked up at you with nervous doe eyes. he watched you closely as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. you sat on his lap and slowly rode him, your clothed cunt becoming wet with slick that was seeping onto his pants. you gave tamaki a show as your ground on him and unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side. you were left in just your skirt and underwear, and not even that for long. tamaki's heart was pounding through his chest when you put your hand on his shoulder to encourage to sit up and put his face into your tits. "they're for you, baby" you reassured him. experimentally, he put his mouth around one of your nipples and put his hand on your free breast, toying with it. he moaned softly when you put your hand in his hair. you let him have his fun for a few moments before pulling back and assisting him with removing his shirt. he already looked flushed out. "too much?" you asked, patting him softly. "n-no, i'm okay." "okay, pretty boy." you continued and helped him remove his pants. hooking a finger in the waistband of his boxers and pulling, his cock sprung out, leaking with pre. "you have such a cute cock, tama." you preened he smiled softly and thanked you. tamaki was sitting up, while you were in between his legs as you began to give little kisses to the tip of his dick. he made small whimpering noises. you licked a long stripe from the base all the way up to the head, and he gasped. you started to play with his balls softly in one hand while jerking him off with the other hand. your hand paid attention to the base as you used your mouth to suck on the tip. "ha, hah~" he moaned out. taking his moans of satisfaction as motivation, you began to pick up the pace. he started to get louder and louder and you knew he was going to cum soon. he called out your name and said, "i-i'm gonna-" "cum for me baby, c'mon, don't be shy" with a throaty moan, he came, and you stuck out your tongue to catch every drop and swallowed it, looking into his eyes to tease him further. he shyly covered his face with his hand in attempt to avert his eyes, but you stopped him and put his arm back by his thigh. "don't hide sweetheart~" you cooed "y-you look so pretty, i can't handle it." "you can do it for me, cutie pie." you took off your remaining clothes and climbed onto his lap, your pussy sitting atop his cock. "are you ready, baby?" you asked "yes, i-i am." you sat up on your knees, slowly pushing yourself down on his cock as it pushed you open. tamaki was whimpering slightly, feeling overstimulated already.

you moaned in comfort once he was fully in, and he smiled knowing he made you feel good. you began to slowly bounce up and down, and tamaki had no problems with the pace, as it felt more sensual to him and better for his first time. "you're doing so good" you told him as you brushed back some of his hair. the two of you were chest to chest, and he nuzzled into your neck to stifle whimpers. you sped up your pace, and he was quickly becoming unable to handle the way your pussy clenched at him and hugged his cock.

tamaki groaned out, and suddenly you felt his warm cum being pushed into your cervix. his eyes got heavy and his breathing was slowing.

“you did such a good job cumming for me, sweet boy,” you praised, “but i haven’t finished yet. be a good boy and help me feel good, okay?”

his eyes were brimming with tears from the overstimulation, as you hadn’t stopped riding him. he nodded and said, “i’ll be g-good for you!”

you smiled at him, slowly getting off him. you turned around and bent yourself over and arched your back, presenting your wet pussy to him.

for a few moments, he was mesmerized. he sat up and took his finger to your slit, playing with it and massaging your clit. you praised him with your moans and “good boy, tamaki”s.

he lined up with your cunt and pushed in, relishing in the way you squeezed him. he started out very slow.

“c’mon baby, harder for me.” you asked

tamaki whispered out, “i-i don’t know if i can take it…”

“i know you can, for me.”

he sped up his pace, quickly moving to please you. his normally quiet apartment was filled with the noise of his skin colliding with yours. tamaki whined, his recently virgin cock overstimulated by the pure feeling of the way your pussy clenched on him and pulled him in. you heard sniffles behind you and craned your head around to see tamaki pouring silent tears. noticing your concern, he managed out, "feels s' good!" you smiled wide at him, "you're so pretty when you cry, tama." the sight of tamaki sent you over the edge, and you climaxed on his dick and moaned out. he fucked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and then pulled out slowly and gently. you turned around and nearly collapsed on him, pushing him to lay back down on his couch, arm hooked around you. you both laid there, breathing deep, for a moment. "how was your first time?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest and gliding your fingers on his skin. "it was amazing, and i had it with the perfect person." ~

#my hero academia #mha smut #mha #mha x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki smut #anime smut #sub tamaki

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utterlyotterlyx · 4 days

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Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

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eymie · 3 months

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Hello! Can you write a Billy the Kid x fem reader smut where they're friends but she works at the brothel or something. He hates the fact that she works there and one night when she's moaning about how none of the guys know what they're doing, billy shows her that he knows exactly what he's doing? Maybe some cocky billy?

BETTER THAN THEM !

warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap it), grinding, choking (kinda but not really), prob more but im tired

You’d known Billy for a few years now, meeting as young teenagers. He had a few friends but you were his closest. His free time was spent with you, he watched other men fall at your feet. Begging for just an ounce more of your attention.

He hated when you got a job at the brothel in town, he could've found you a job or his mother could've. You had heard from a few girls in town that it's the easiest way to make quick money and you had jumped at the chance. Your family wasn't well off and you knew you needed this.

He heard men in the saloons talking about you. The wat you writhed under them, whining their names. He knew it was so you'd get a tip but he couldn't help but feel his body tense up. A few of those men leaving with bloody nose and black eye.

Billy couldn't escape the echoes of saloon gossip about your actions at the brothel. The visceral reactions of those men stirred conflicting emotions in him – a mix of discomfort, protectiveness, and an unsettling tension. His response, defending your honor with fists, became a silent testament to the depth of his feelings for you.

He knew he could please you better than any of those grimy men paying for your attention. He had your attention for free. Now here you were sitting in his room complaining to him about these men.

"Billy, they don't even feel good." You groaned, shoving your face into your hands. "At least the money is."

Billy's hands clenched into a fist as he tried to process your words. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"None of them have ever made me... you know." You admitted, looking down at your hands. You fidgeted with your hands, looking back up into his pale blue eyes.

His eyes bore into yours.

You continued, pacing around your room frustrated. "They're all so sloppy, and aggressive."

He swallowed hard, taking a step closer to you. "I can make you cum." His voice was low and husky, filled with desire and determination.

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Billy held your gaze, his eyes burning with passion and conviction. "I can make you feeling things that none of them ever will."

"But Billy--"

"I'm the only one who knows how to touch you just right." His heart was racing as he took another step closer, their bodies almost touching now.

"Billy." You tried again, barely knowing what to say.

"I promise you won't regret it," he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers against your cheek. The touch was gentle but electric, sending shivers down his spine.

"We're friends." Best of friends, you didn't want to ruin it one bit. You didn't want to break the bond of the closest friend you've ever had, as bad as you needed him.

"We can be so much more than that," Billy replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in closer still, his lips mere inches from yours now. "Tell me you don't think about me."

"Wait." Your hands pressed against his chest but you didn't push him any further away. Your fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, almost pulling him in with intense urge.

Billy took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours. He could feel the heat rising between them as they stood there in silence. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer; he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You lips moved against his, tongues sliding against each other. You ignored any other concern invading your thoughts as you pulled him closer. His hands slid under your dress, nothing underneath.

"I didn't--"

He ignores you, hands finding the flesh of your ass. His hands groping at your ass, squeezing your flesh. You lips part against his, letting out a soft gasp. His hands so close to your shamefully wet folds.

"What pleases you?" His voice was a low whisper against your ear, wetness pooling in your undergarments. Your breath hitched as your mind raced trying to think of an honest answer.

You took a breath, then asked him. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you feel good, pleasures you." His lips brushed against your ear, hot breath fanning against your flushed skin. His hands traveled to your wetness, brushing his finger tips along it.

You hid your face in his neck, squinting your eyes shut as his fingers spread your folds apart, wetness coating his long fingers. Your chest heaved, your body begging to be released from it's clothed restraints.

"I-I don't know..." You stuttered, your was voice low and barely audible. You didn't know what pleased you, what you needed to feel good. His lips pressed against your neck, teeth grazing skin.

His words were hot against your skin, "How do they fuck you?”

In the intense moment, your astonishment mirrored in widened eyes as you gazed at him, his expression remaining stoic, a genuine sincerity cutting through the bluntness of his words. You slowly began to utter, “Billy I-“

He pulls his hand from underneath your skirt, pushing his long fingers into your mouth allowing you to taste yourself. Your tongue pressed along his fingers, your taste invading your taste buds.

HIs inquiry hung in the air, “It doesn’t matter, does it?” Yet, his fingers in your mouth rendered you speechless, creating a moment where words were stifled, leaving the question unanswered.

He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, unveiling a momentary pause that echoed.

His hands travelled to your corset. His fingers deftly worked at the laces of your corset, each gentle movement unveiling a layer of intimacy and revealing a vulnerability that seemed to heighten the intensity of your tension.

Your dress fell to the floor along with the rest of your clothing, undergarments including. His gaze bore into yours, cold air causing goosebumps to your skin, worse under his touch. You closed yours eyes as his hand slid back down between your thighs.

He slowly pushed you down against the bed, hands spreading your thighs. He ran his thumb down your slick folds, collecting your wetness on the tip of his fingers. A sharp breath coming from your parted lips as his rough thumb pressed into your sensitive clit.

"Do they touch you this way?" He asked, pressing your clit harder under his thumb. You shook your head, knowing they just paid to fuck you and not foreplay.

A sense of confidence surging through him, he couldn't help it knowing he was the one making you feel this way. Knowing not another man could make you feel like this one just his fingers.

His finger pressed past your folds, pushing through your gushing entrance. Your hips rose off the bed to meet his hand as he slipped a second finger inside you.

"Moaning on just my hand?" He teased, thrusting his fingers back inside you. You wetness coating his thick long fingers. Your mind raced, never feeling like this by just a mans hand before.

Soft moans leaving your part lips, thighs clenching around his hand. His fingers curled inside you, pressing into your g-spot. You let out a gasp, bucking your hips. His hands were relentless, thrusting his fingers back inside you faster than before driving you towards your orgasm. The wire inside you had tightened, begging to snap.

"Billy-- I'm gonna--" You whined, your hand grabbing his wrist in attempt to stop him. His free hand and pried yours away, pinning it to the bed beside you. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as his hands fucked you closer to your orgasm.

"Do it, cum on my fingers." He encouraged, continuing his thrusts until you writhed under his hands, crying out his name. He kissed along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone leaving purple blemishes. "I bet they don't have you whining like this, crying out my name like it's not just my hand."

His thumb continuously rubbed your clit, fingers curling inside of you. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, your body sensitive with overstimulation. He felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he could brink you over the edge with just his fingers. He couldn't just stop there.

His fingers were relentless, the way they continuously thrust into you. Moans slipping from your lips, begging for him to slow down just for a second. Your whines falling to deaf ears. His teeth grazed your erect nipples, slowly running his tongue around them.

"Billy, oh--" You hips lift off the bed, his fingers thrusting inside you in attempt to draw out another orgasm. His hands pressed against the fat of your breasts, groping them as he sucks your nipples into his mouth. "Gonna--"

His other hand helps you arch your back off the bed, hips grinding into his hand as you juices coat his fingers. Your jaw going slack as he takes you through yet another orgasm, slowly pulling his fingers from your slick.

"None of those men could make you cum?" He asks again, spreading your thighs apart. You shake your head in response, leaning back on your elbows. You watch as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, groaning at your taste in response.

"Not one of them, Billy." He pulls his fingers from his mouth, wiping his saliva off on his pants. Your legs clench shut watch his fingers slowly unbutton his pants, sliding down his zipper.

"What a shame."

Your lips part as you watch him pull down his pants, an evident bulge in his underwear. Your felt your cunt clench around nothing, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt revealing his chest.

His strong hands turned you over onto your stomach, helping you up onto your hands and knees. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your wet cunt, hips slowly grinding into your cunt.

"Do you want it?" He asked, thumbs rubbing at your flesh. Your slick soaked through his thin fabric, bulge pressing harder into your wet cunt.

You nod, pushing your hips back to try and get more friction. You whine at the way his bulge presses harder against you, fabric rubbing against your sensitive nub.

“Say it.”

“Yes, I want it.” You begged, overstimulated and out of breath. Your hands clench into the sheets wishing he'd just fuck you.

”Will you quit?” His voice was stern, yet you knew he had no sense of anger. He was needy, he needed you and needed to prove himself. He needed to convince you that he was more than anyone else, more than any amount of money.

“What?” You asked, voice cracking. You turned your head back trying to catch a sight of him. He leaned back, hands still holding your hips against him.

“If I can prove I’m better, then you quit.”

“But—“

He was quick to cut you off, “You don’t need that money, let me show you.”

You close your eyes, the sound of his hands pulling down his undergarments filling the silent room. Your fingers grip the sheets, preparing yourself for the stretch.

The tip of his cock pressed into her cunt, swearing her slick around. He slides his cock down to press against your clit making you jolt.

“Don’t tease—“

He cuts you off by pushing his tip past your folds. A moan leaving your lips, whining at the way his cock stretched you open. His large hands pulled your hips back as he slides himself inside you.

“Shh, taking me so well.” He praised, cock breaching as far as it can inside you. He watched as your pussy is spread wide, embracing his cock.

Small whimpers fell from your lips as he pulls back, thrusting back in. He promised himself he’d start off slow, he couldn’t.

“Billy—“ You whined, his thrusts were relentless. Constantly thrusting back in faster than before, unable to hold back your loud moans.

As much as he wanted to hear your noises, the walls were thin and you were loud. His large hand clasped over your mouth muffling your moans.

Your eyes rolled back, moaning into his hand as he brushed your cervix. His free hand slid to pinch your nipples and fondle your breasts. Your cunt stretched wide, insides bullied by his thrusts.

You cried his name but it was silenced by his hand. Your legs shook, holding up your weight as you were overtook by pleasure. His fingers slid from your breast to your clit, overstimulated and sensitive.

His finger pressed into your clit, eyes rolling back in return. Your walls closed around his length, a groan escaping his lips. The wire inside you once again tightening signaling your soon to come orgasm. Your arms giving out under you, your chest and face pressed into the cheap sheets.

His hand released your mouth, silent moans now all that came from it. His hand pressed down on your back, pulling your ass up into the air.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He felt the way your cunt clenched around, drool smearing into your pillow case. The loud sound of clapping skin filling the room, along with muffled moans and Billy’s held back groans.

One harsh thrust sending you into your impending orgasm. Mouth falling wide open as your cum coated his thick cock. His hands pulled your hips further onto his cock, hips grinding into yours as he pushes you through your orgasm.

“Billy— too much!” You whined, pushing your hand behind you against his abs trying to push him back. He grabbed your wrist, holding it tight before thrusting in quicker than before.

“No, not enough.” He argued, letting go of your wrist that fell back beside you without any fight.

He was holding back his own impending orgasm, hoping to fuck you into another one. His hand wraps around your neck, not too tightly but just enough force to pull you back. He pushed his face into his neck, teeth grazing your skin.

"Better?" He asked with a sense of cockiness in his tone. His tongue pressing over your deep purple marks decorating your skin. The way he thrusted into your made your head spin, his finger rubbing your sensitive clit making it worse.

"What--" You moaned, he was quick to cut you off again.

"Am I better?" Billy asked again, this time his tone more annoyed, annunciating his words. You knew what he meant, better than the other men at the brothel.

"Yes," You assured, placing your hand over his own that decorated your neck. Your nails pressed into his hands, scratching his skin as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"All of them?"

Your cunt squeezed him, his breathing got heavier as he neared his own high. The way your soft warm walls fluttered around his length, spasming as it neared your orgasm.

"Yes, all of them"

Your fourth orgasm ripped through you, your cunt clenching him like a vice. His name falling off your tongue, loudly being moaned into the room.

Your words came out in a jumble of words, stuttering mess. "Billy... please-- inside!"

His brows furrowed, already too late before he understood your begging pleas. He pulled his cock from your tight entrance, seed spilling from his red tip coating your plush skins. Your cunt was raw and used, clenching around nothing.

"Sorry," He mumbled, out of breath. He grabbed a nearby rag, wiping down your skin from his hot seed. Your body collapsed onto the bed, out of breath and tired.

"Billy?" You asked, turning onto your back. Your chest heaved, soft breaths leaving your parted lips. You felt his weight beside you on the bed, the mattress sinking down next to you.

"Yes?"

"I'll quit."

#billy the kid imagine #coriolanus snow #coryo #coryo snow #coryo x reader #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #coriolanus x reader #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney smut

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romantichomicide95 · 4 months

Text

geto suguru x virgin!reader

summary: reader is gojos virgin step sister. when geto gets her alone he wants to teach her a thing or two.

-> 3kish words. minors dni.

"You know what I like about you?" Geto suddenly spoke up, interrupting the quiet hum of the movie you had been watching together. His voice broke through the silence, drawing your attention away from the screen.

Earlier that day, you had found yourself unexpectedly joining Satoru and Geto for a night in after your best friend got sick and had to cancel your own movie plans. Seeing how sad and dejected you were your step-brother, Satoru, invited you to have a few beers with him and his best friend Geto.

As step-siblings you and Satoru had a pretty close bond. You were only a few months apart and had really only been step-siblings for a few years. So instead of years of fighting, you met as teenagers and over a few years grew to become friends. He had become almost like a true big brother. The only real problem was your crush on his extremely attractive, and extremely charming best friend Suguru Geto. And now, of course as fate would have it, Satoru had gone to bed and left you two all alone.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze from the corner of your eye. His face was illuminated by the flickering light of the tv, which cast shadows across his strong jawline and high cheekbones. A smalll but cocky smirk played at the corners of his lips as he leaned back against the couch, his shoulders relaxed.

"Uh- what about me?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies that fluttered ever so annoyingly in your stomach.

“You don't pretend to be someone you're not." He paused for a moment, turning to face you completely. His eyes narrowing and that smirk growing slightly bigger. "I think that's why I've always been attracted to you."

You felt your heart sink into your chest, not in a bad way but in a holy shit is this real kind of way. You swallowed before shakily responding, “You’re… attracted to me?”

"Yeah," replied, "You’re pretty fucking sexy." He said, and as the words left his lips you felt his hand brush softly against your thigh. “Sometimes I think you wear these short skirts just to drive me crazy.” He continued.

Your eyes fell to his hand which was now planted firmly on your thigh than back up to him. His eyes were dark and intense, and you hoped he couldn’t hear the quickening pace of your heart beating in your chest. “I-I just like skirts I guess.”

"Yeah, sure," Geto said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You just like skirts. Right." You couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing you or not but you couldn’t mull over it for long because suddenly he had leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “I'm not going to lie, I've thought about kissing you a million times. Satoru might kill me but, I just thought you should know.”

He pulled back slightly, giving you a chance to respond. At this point he had to know he was teasing you but you didn’t think he really care. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his desire and his loyalty to his best friend.

Geto had always had this aura about him, this darker side. It contrasted the goofy carefree demeanor of your step-brother. But it also excited you, had you dangling on a string at every word that was falling out of those perfect lips of his.

“I-uh…guess I thought about it too.” You finally say, averting his gaze.

"Ha. I knew it, saw the way you looked at me," Geto said, a confident air to his tone. "Well then, why don't we stop thinking about it and just do it?" And with that, he wasted no time and leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine in every sense of the phrase.

As you kissed him back, his tongue slid against your lips seeking access. Your lips parted, and Geto's tongue gently swept inside. As your tongues danced together his hand moved up your thigh, slowly inching towards your center. You gasped into the kiss, as he found what he was looking for. He rubbed soft circles over your panties. And you closed your legs slightly in response.

“Are you a virgin?” Geto asks pulling away from the kiss with another cocky smirk.

You shyly nod. “Y-yeah.”

Geto sucks in a breath and his eyes lit up. In his head he thinks your step-brother, or rather his best friend, might kill him for this…but he can’t help himself. Not when’s he already got a small taste of you, felt the tiny wet spot on your panties that just the slip of his tongue pulled from you. No, he was going for it. He’d deal with the consequences later.

He leaned in close again, giving your lips a quick peck. “Guess I’ll have to be gentle with you then yeah?” He whispered his lips fully connecting with yours again. He made his way across your jaw, down your neck and you thought it was probably the most erotic moment of your life, up until this point of course.

Getos hand moved up your skirt again, slightly pushing the fabric up to give him better access. “I’m gunna touch you first, has anyone ever touched you before?”

“N-no, just myself…” You admit.

“Oh yeah? I’ll make sure you enjoy it don’t worry.” He says and he leans back against the couch. “Take your clothes off for me can you do that?”

“I- I don’t know.” You say, suddenly feeling extremely hot and extremely shy.

“Come on baby, you’re so beautiful. Wanna see how much prettier you are without all that hiding you away.”

“Uhm…Okay.” You say, his words having his desired affect on you. You begin to take off your clothes. First stepping out of your skirt, than pulling your shirt off over your head and discarding it to the side.

“Keep going baby, already look so fucking sexy.” Geto says , his eyes fixated on every curvature of your body. He reaches out to trace his fingers along the fabric of your panties. “So so fucking sexy.” He says leaning back to watch you finish.

You remove your bra, revealing perfect breasts, nipples erect against the cool air. You took a moment to look at Geto whose eyes were fixated on your body, tracing your form hungrily. Finally, you pulled your panties down past your ankles and discarded them away.

You instinctively covered yourself with your arms but without another word Geto grabbed your hand and pulled you back onto the couch. With a gentle nudge, he pushed you backwards. His eyes traced the outline of your breasts, taking in every detail. They were perfect, just like the rest of you. With a smile, he leaned down, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You moaned softly, arching your back slightly. He moved to the other breast, repeating the action. After a few moments, he lifted his head, looking into your eyes. "Do you like that?" he asked.

“Mmmm. Feels g-good.” You reply, biting your lip as he his dips down to suck and nip at your sensitive buds.

“Good, I’m gunna make you feel really good.” His kisses move from your breasts down your stomach and he stops just above your core. His eyes look up at you, dark and intense and he smirks against your skin when he sees the innocent look of pleasure etched across your face. He kisses down your thighs as he swipes a finger across your clit. You let out a gasp at the sensation.

Geto smiles, knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. As he slid a finger inside your tight hole, and then another, he continued his kisses along your thigh. His teeth grazed your skin and you quaked in anticipation as his kisses got closer and closer to your core. “I’m gunna make you cum pretty girl, want you to give it all to me.” He says confidently before his kisses meet your pussy lips. Your hips bucked slightly off the couch as his lips made contact and you shut your eyes focusing on the new pleasure.

He continued to explore your pussy, licking and sucking gently. Each stroke of his tongue brought forth little moans that escaped your lips. Slowly, he moved lower, his tongue delving deeper into your folds, tasting your juices and savoring the sweetness.

His tongue circled your clit, applying gentle pressure as he did so. You couldn’t take much more, your moans began to grow louder and Geto brought a hand up to your mouth, lifting his head momentarily. “Can’t be too loud baby, don’t want Satoru to hear.”

You nod and bit your lip trying to stifle your moans as Geto continued his assault on your clit, alternating between soft circles of his tongue and firm flicks. He could feel her body trembling beneath him, as your free gripped the couch below you. His fingers found his way inside of you again, curling up to massage your sweet spot. Geto groans as he feels you tighten around his fingers, his own body responding to the intense pleasure he's giving you. He continues to lap at your sweet pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit as he brings you to orgasm. You finally come apart beneath him, cumming against his tongue he laps up every last bit.

He comes up to look up at you, before standing up to remove his clothes. He strips himself down to his boxers and you can’t help but admire his broad shoulders and his tight perfectly sculpted abs. "Gunna make me feel good now yeah?”

You nod as he sits back on the couch. “Come here, sit right here…on your knees for me pretty girl.” He spreads his legs a bit and nods his head to the spot on the floor in front of him. You oblige, sitting right on your knees in between his legs.

He reaches down, running a thumb along your cheek. “Take it out. I’ll show you how to touch it.” He says, and you do so, pulling the band of his boxers down and letting his cock spring forward.

Geto's cock was big, and it twitched as he felt your hand wrap around it, his breath hitching in his throat. "That's it," he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse. "Stroke me slowly, baby." He watched as you tentatively moved your hand up and down his shaft, his eyes darkening at the image of you sitting innocent and pretty in front of him.

“Yeah…That's it," he encouraged, “Take your time pretty." He groaned softly, his hips bucking slightly as you continued to stroke him. "Fuck, you see what you do to me? Making me this hard." His words made an unfamiliar heat surge through your body and your brought your hand up to gently rub the tip. "Yeah, like that," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. “Not too fast, it’s a little sensitive at the tip.”

You continue to stroke him, as he guides your movements. “Use your other hand to play with my balls a little. Do it gently.” And you do so, using one hand to stroke him and the other to lightly massage his balls.

Geto's breathing became ragged as you continued to stroke his cock, his hips bucking slightly with each thrust of your hand. His eyes were filled with darkened lust as he watched you kneel before him, his gaze always watching you. "You look so fucking sexy, stroking me like this," he murmured, "I've wanted this for so long." He reached down, gently guiding your head towards his cock. "Take me in your mouth, can you do that?” he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "Make me feel good."

You look up at him, your innocent shy gaze meeting his hungry one. You lean down, giving the tip of his cock a few kitten licks. Truth be told you’re a little intimidated given his size, but you want to do everything in your power to make him feel good. So you finally slowly take him into your mouth.

Getos eyes rolled back in his head as you took him into your mouth, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned, “That's it, baby. Use your tongue." He reached down, gently running his fingers through your hair as you began to bob your head up and down his shaft. “Keep going, just like that. Don’t take your eyes off me.”

The sensation of your tongue against his shaft was amazing, and he couldn't help the grunts that escaped him. "So fucking good," he murmured. His voice coming out low and rough. "Gunna make me cum so hard." His cock twitched in your mouth, pre-cum dripping onto your tongue as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He gripped the back of your head, pulling you closer into his lap as he began to thrust his hips up, fucking your mouth. He growls, his eyes locked on yours. "You’re doing so good. Such a good girl, keep going." Geto's cock throbbed in your mouth as you continued to suck him off, his hips bucking wildly. The sensation was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but let out a long, low moan. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned.

He watched you took his cock down your throat, and he couldn’t hold it in much longer. "Fuck…I’m gunna cum…Swallow it all!" His cock twitched one last time in your mouth, and then he let out a long, low moan. His cum suddenly shot out, filling your mouth quickly. It was thick and salty, and you swallowed it all down without hesitation.

Geto pulled out of your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Fuck," he muttered. "That was amazing." He reached down, gently stroking your cheek. "You did so fucking good, can’t believe you’ve never done that." Then, with a soft smile, he leaned in and kissed you gently on the forehead.

“We should go continue this in your bedroom yeah?” He says pulling you up into his lap.

“We can…yeah.” You say grabbing your clothes and leading him to your room. You knew it was probably better for your first time but now that this all was happening so quick the nerves started to flow through you.

Geto followed you into your room. You climbed into your bed, and he joined you. He hovered over you and as your eyes met he gave you a soft smile. He took his finger to your chin to lift it slightly as he looked into your eyes. “Hey. Pretty girl, don’t be nervous, you want to do this right?”

You smiled back and gave him a nod. “Yeah…I do.” You assured him and with that he leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. He let the kiss linger this time, as his hands roamed over your body.

Geto finally broke the kiss, leaning back slightly to look into your eyes. "Ready?" he asked. You nodded. With a grin, he positioned himself between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. "This might hurt a little bit," he warned, "But I’ll take it slow to minimize the pain." He paused, waiting for you to respond. When you nodded, he slowly pushed forward, his cock sliding into your tight pussy. You gasped, your eyes widening and your nails digging into his back as he entered you slowly.

His lips parted and a low groan escaped him…”Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, “You okay?” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. Encouraged, he began his thrusts, slowly picking up speed.

He watched your reactions. The sight of you writhing beneath him, drove him admittedly a little wild. He thrust harder, deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly more urgent.

"Pussy feels so good grippin my cock like that." he groaned, “Startin’ to feel good yeah?”

You nodded, your eyes closed tightly as you tried to focus. Geto grinned, watching your face contort with the pleasure that was slowly overriding the pain. He could tell you were starting to enjoy it which only fueled his need for you. He picked up his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your wet heat faster and faster.

"Want me to fuck you harder?" He asked, his voice low and coarse. You nodded eagerly, your eyes widening with excitement. That was all the encouragement he needed. He grabbed your legs, lifting them up and resting them on his shoulders. The positioning allowing him the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock.” He says leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. He bit your bottom lip as he drilled his cock further and further into your wetness. The sensation drove him a bit mad, the way your pussy gripped him so eagerly. “Love the way my cock is stretching you open huh pretty girl?”

“Mmm. Yes…Feels so good Geto, gunna cum.” You moan out and as if on queue he reaches between you his fingers circling your clit. You can’t control yourself much longer and your walls tighten around his cock as you feel orgasm wash over you.

Hearing your cries of pleasure only intensifies his own. He thrust harder, faster, determined to join you in blissful orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum too!" He groaned, his hips bucking against yourswildly.

And then, with one final thrust, he cums, his cock pulsing inside your wet heat as he releases his seed.

Finally, exhausted, he collapses on the bed beside you. "Goddamn, that was incredible." He reachesover, gently caressing your face. "We should keep doing that but uh…keep this between us for now yeah? Satoru’ll be so pissed."

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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softsturn · 6 months

Note

imagine being best friends with matt, and you guys text 24/7, and one day you decide to get risky because youve had a crush on him forever - and if he gets the hint, and thinks you wanna fuck him then he gets the hint - if he doesn’t and thinks it was a simple accident, never for him, then he thinks it was an accident and nothing is seriously ruined

so you get on your favorite mini skirt, posing infront of the mirror sitting down and **ever so slightly** opening your legs to reveal your glistening folds, snapping a pic and sending him a photo. “dont forget to match me for our lunch date!” you send an innocent text after, making sure to seem normal as you possibly could.

he immediately opened it, typing for a while but didn’t reply. you wonder if he finds it weird, and get worried and insecure, but he sends a “did you mean to send me that?” after a minute, and you smile to yourself - “of course? i want you to match me.” you reply innocently, and he hearts the message. you wonder if he did find it weird.

once you get to lunch you guys sit down next to eachother, chris and nick across the table as he sat down next to you, smiling.

the restuarunt was actually quite loud, and chris had airpods in, nick finding the bathroom as Matt turns to you, smiling. “are you wearing underwear?” he whispered, your smile fading as you widen your eyes, turning to him, “no? you dirty slut”, he began and put his hand on your thigh, glancing at you with hopeful eyes as you nod, but he shook his head. “words, baby.”

u can decide what goes on from there lel 🤺🤺🤺

miniskirt - m.s

⩩ pairing: matt x fem!reader

⩩ summary: read the request

⩩ warnings: fingering, light degradation, exhibitionism

⩩ a/n: i really hope i did this request justice!! i could probably do a part two of this, just leave ideas if thats something you’d want. also thanks so much for all the support on my last work!!!!! 🩶🫂

You and Matt have been best friends since forever, befriending him and his brothers in elementary school, and the rest was history. You were close with all three of the boys, but the bond you shared with Matt was different. The two of you were practically attached at the hip, always wanting to be near one another, and when you couldn’t be near each other, you were on your phones texting and calling each other. The two of you are each others comfort, he’s your home, your lifeline, and you’re the same for him. Navigating the very fine line between platonic feelings and something more isn’t always easy, especially not when hes as handsome as he is and you’re both so familiar with each other.

You wanted to make a move, you wanted him to know how you felt, but you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. The fear of losing him was debilitating, you’d rather have him as your best friend than nothing at all. However, you’ve found yourself on the floor, adorned in your favorite miniskirt, posed in front of your mirror with your legs slightly open. You weren’t wearing any panties, exposing your pretty pink cunt. You snapped a picture, mind running wild as you debate if you’re really ready to do this. Clicking Matt’s contact, your thumb hovers over the send button, you bite your lip, and nervously press it. Quickly following up with an innocent text, trying to mask the intensity of what you’ve just sent. “Don’t forget to match me for dinner tomorrow!!”

He immediately opened the text, and you feel your stomach knot as you wait for his reply. He could either get the hint, and do something about it or, he could chalk it up to being accidental, which would be slightly awkward but nothing would be seriously ruined between you two. The seconds feel like hours as you watch him type, but he doesn’t reply. You internally curse yourself, his silence triggered insecurity, fearing that you’ve just ruined your most cherished friendship. In the midst of your despair, your phone finally dings with a notification from him. “Did you mean to send me that?” he inquired. You take a deep breath, trying to craft the perfect response. Smiling to yourself as you text back feigning innocence, as if you don’t notice the risky picture. “duh? i want you to match with me.” He hearts the message, leaving you uncertain, casting doubt as you prepare for dinner.

Collecting yourself, you complete your makeup and style your hair. Opting to go without panties, you're left in the miniskirt and a crop top. As you head out, thoughts of your text exchange with Matt linger, and the anticipation of potential awkwardness looms. Arriving at the bustling and noisy restaurant, you cringe at the sensory overload. Seated at the table the triplets reserved, Chris, with his AirPods in, offers a smile before returning to his phone. Nick greets you and gives you a side hug as he heads to find a bathroom, leaving you practically alone with Matt as you take a seat beside him in the booth, Chris across from you, along with Nick's empty space.

"Hey," Matt whispers, a smile playing on his lips as he takes in your appearance. You respond with a sheepish smile, exhaling nervously as his eyes linger on the familiar skirt from the earlier picture. You swear you detect a flicker of lust in his gaze as he observes the miniskirt showcasing your thighs. A teasing smirk crosses his lips, leaning in closer, his breath caressing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Are you wearing underwear?" he whispers.

Your smile fades, eyes widening as if the air has been sucked from your lungs. You hadn't anticipated him bringing up the picture, especially not here and not like this. Turning slightly towards him, jaw slightly dropped, you're rendered speechless, unable to trust the words that might escape. He releases a low, breathy chuckle at your bewildered expression, checking if Chris is paying attention. His gaze returns to you, and he licks his lips. "I’ll take that as a no? Such a slut..." he taunts, his hand finding your thigh under the table, giving it a small squeeze, igniting butterflies in your stomach. Raising his eyebrows, eyes filled with anticipation as you nod to confirm your lack of panties, he shook his head as he coaxed, "Words, baby."

"No, I'm not wearing any underwear," you mumble sheepishly, biting your lip. His hand moves up painfully slow, his eyes attentively tracing every reaction to his touch, as if committing your responses to memory. This situation was beyond what you expected when you sent that picture; now, with his hand creeping up your thigh, you're uncertain how to proceed. He smiles at your sudden shyness, leaning in closer, his lips brushing over your ear. "Atta girl, you listen so well."

"Matt, we're in a restaurant," you whisper sternly, though your voice wavers. Squeezing your thighs shut, you guide his hand away with your own, shooting him a warning glare. Despite the growing desire between your legs, engaging in this here, with Chris across the table and Nick likely to return soon, feels too risky. Matt revels in the thrill, enjoying watching you squirm as you attempt to stay unfazed by his persistent touch. "Which is exactly why you're gonna be quiet for me. Can you do that, baby?" he says softly, the smug smirk on his face almost challenging you.

Your gaze shifts to Chris, engrossed in his phone with an empty spot beside him awaiting Nick's return. Returning your attention to Matt, you scan his sharp features and nod. "Yes, I'll be quiet," you agree, slowly allowing your thighs to open once more, anticipating the touch of his long, slender fingers. His eyes glint with adoration as his hand resumes its journey up your thigh, slipping tantalizingly under your miniskirt. Moving with agonizing slowness, he watches as you shudder with each upward movement. His fingertips graze over your core, and he chuckles slightly at the frustrated sigh escaping you. The anticipation is maddening, and in a less public setting, you'd have surrendered to him entirely. He swipes his index finger through your wet folds, eliciting a gasp as one of his cold rings meets your sensitive skin. "Fucking soaked," he mumbles, and you impatiently huff, growing tired of his teasing. "I'm so close to doing it myself."

He grips your chin in a possessive, and dominant manner, forcing you to meet his gaze. "One day, I'm gonna fuck that bratty little mouth of yours," he grunts, using the opportunity of no one watching to steal your lips in a kiss, swallowing the moan that escapes as two of his fingers slide into you, stretching your tight walls. Breaking the kiss once he senses you can keep quiet, or at least try, his fingers gradually start pumping into you, the restaurant's bustling atmosphere and loud music drowning out the slick, wet sounds. One of your hands clutches the booth seat, the other clinging to his knee, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you attempt to stifle your whines and whimpers.

Suddenly, Nick returns from the bathroom, causing your eyes to widen and your face to flush. Matt halts his movements, but he keeps his fingers inside you. The thought of being caught, especially by his brothers, is paralyzing. As Nick rejoins, Chris diverts his attention from his phone, engaging in conversation about new video ideas. Matt nods along, feigning interest, and gradually resumes pumping his fingers into you. You shoot him a panicked look, to which he only smirks.

A waiter arrives with appetizers ordered by the boys before your arrival, and takes your orders. While Nick and Chris indulge in the appetizers, you find yourself indulging in a different sensation—Matt's fingers exploring you in enticing ways. Balancing the act of appearing normal becomes challenging when your best friend is treating you so intimately. Refraining from joining the conversation, you grab an appetizer, bringing it to your mouth as you attempt to eat. Matt's sees this and his fingers quicken their pace, causing a small moan to escape you. Chris raises an eyebrow, shooting a questioning glare your way, prompting Matt to ease up as Chris starts to speak. "You okay, Y/N?"

Eyes widening, you choke slightly on your food, hastily nodding at him. "Y-yeah, the appetizer is just really good," you mumble sheepishly, and Matt snickers. Chris gives you a strange look but returns to his conversation. You're tempted to hit Matt for embarrassing you, but his fingers remain deep inside you, making you completely defenseless. Your knees attempt to shut, shying from the intensifying sensation in your stomach, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this. Matt's foot nudges yours over his, bringing your leg slightly onto his lap, compelling you to spread. Leaning in to your neck, he whispers into your ear, "Can you keep quiet if I let you cum, hmm?"

You nod desperately, but Matt narrows his eyes, halting his finger movements entirely. A silent whine escapes your lips from the loss of momentum, and your eyes plead with him to continue. "Words," he mutters harshly, taunting you. You try to calm yourself, the last thing you need is to accidentally moan and give away what's happening under the table. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, you manage to say, "Yes, please," in a hushed voice.

Amusement plays across Matt's face, finding it entertaining to watch you struggle to hold yourself together. He resumes his movements, slowly pumping his fingers inside you, rebuilding the knot in your stomach. "Good girl, cum all over my fingers, princess," he murmurs as he pulls back. His gaze returns to his brothers, maintaining the facade of genuine interest in their conversation, but his focus is solely on you and the desire to make you feel good. His fingers thrust mercilessly inside you, his thumb tracing circles on your swollen clit. The overwhelming sensation brings you dangerously close to the edge. With your elbow on the table, you bring your head to rest in your hand, covering your mouth to conceal the lewd moans threatening to escape. Matt curls his fingers inside, providing the extra push needed. You bite down on your hand, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed as you come on his fingers. A muffled moan escapes your throat, but blinded by bliss, you don't care. Nick and Chris glance over, offering worried looks.

"Y/N, are you sure you're okay?" Chris asks, confusion etched on his face. Matt's fingers gradually ease out of you, your breathing slightly heavy as you attempt to regain your senses. "Yeah... I think I'm just having a really bad migraine," you mumble, feigning discomfort as you rub your temple. Chris and Nick nod understandingly, offering sympathetic looks. Matt pats your knee thats on top of his own and smiles slightly at his brothers. "I'm gonna take her home, just box our food and bring it home with you guys later, i’ll Venmo you for an Uber," he says, ushering you out of the booth. The two boys bid you farewells, and as Matt grips your hips, pressing himself up behind you, to them it seems like he's ensuring your safe exit. In reality, he's forcing you to feel the hard bulge desperate for relief in his pants. He kisses the top of your head and the base of your neck. "We're not done," he whispers, gently guiding you out of the restaurant towards his van, leaving your mind racing with thoughts of what he has in store for you.

#matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo fluff #smut #fluff

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borzoilover69 · 1 month

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I dont know about you but god sometimes i thibk abt some of the cannibalistic symbolism in dirk and jake relationship and i go a bit insane ok. Let me explain.

So if youre just catching up youre probably wondering, borzoi. Why is everyone doing Dirkjake cannibalism? Where did this come from?

Attached, is three images depicting what could be seen as cannibalism metaphorically. Attached are images of Jake with brainghost Dirk, Brobot ripping his own heart for Jake, and Dirks beheaded head, sent to Jake by Dirk. In simple terms, this sacrifice and act of giving Jakes parts of himself could be seen as cannibalism, which hangs on giving a part of you to someone you love for their own use.

But it runs a bit deeper than that. Cannibalism and violence as a love language is a rather nontraditional take, toeing the line on macabre, but its also a sign of extreme loyalty. It “highlights the contradictory urges of desire and aggression.”(Typeset, 2023). Dirk has two rather extreme examples of this, with Brobot ripping his heart out for Jake, killing himself, and Dirk beheading himself and transportalizing it to Jake to kiss, again, killing him.

This connects to Dirkjake by their dichotomy between the affection and intensely loyal bond they have to each other and their more violent combat based bond shown in the comic, from their relationship with their respective weapons to Jakes desire to fight (and Dirks subsequent gift of a robot to help protect and train him) to their hobby of choice in game (raiding tombs and fighting monsters) to even post credits (where they are seen engaged in a strife). Combat plays such a big role in their relationship.

Another thing to bring up about the cannibalism love metaphor is that it was often seen in old culture that to devour someone in death was to forever have a special bond with them, they become part of you and you share attributes. Which.. again. Need i say more? Brainghost dirk is a PART of Jake. The unique bond is one of Dirks fragmented self in Jakes soul, but also as a subconscious voice of reason given life in the form of Jakes best friend.

Cannibalism is a wordless nod to wordless acts of physical affection and intimate exchange between two people. Its no small feat to say that Dirk and Jake struggle with that. The majority of their lovelife is wordless, delivered through proxies or their reflections on their relationship through others. They find themselves feeling selfish and heartless for wanting to love each other in the ways they do. On dirks side, his desire to serve ingrains itself to him giving parts of himself to others whether it be a robot bunny, an autoresponder, or a robot. His gift to Jake are notably extreme, however Jake does not seem adverse to it, noting how he feels some sort of intimacy on being on level fighting ground with brobots (hence the upping in difficulty) and the “movie kiss.”

Its a selfish sort of love. Jake is known for his interest in non-traditional forms lf love over traditional (Think avatar and the.. hair connection thingies). But it serves them just fine. Its a way for the one that is cannibalised to offer themselves a gift to the devourer, and as a sacrifice. For the cannibal, its a chance for them to remain with a part of their lover forever. Dirk desires to be Jakes. In consumption, he will forever be part of him. A part of him surrenders all autonomy and ownership to seek the desire of being impossibly close. Which we do in fact see! When separated and in distress, Brainghost Dirk makes his appearance and fights for him, even as Dirk himself is hundreds of miles away hurtling through space… a part of him even haunts Jake after death in the postcanon, irrevocably, forever..his.

In short, Cannibalism is a nontraditional form of physical and intimate affection that seeks to show the depths of loyalty to the beloved and the desire to have a special bond and connection- to be a part of them- forever. Throughout the story of homestuck, Dirks splinters serve to accomodate themselves in that way, through the physical acts they act out or the special connection between brainghost dirk and jake. Hope you enjoyed reading!

#homestuck meta #homestuck #hom3stuck #dirk strider #jake english #dirkjake #borzoi talks #borzoi meta #*eye twjtches #yeah ok man #AND TO WHOEVER SAID IT WAS A SEX THING FUCK YOU!!!#IM AROACE MFER #KILL AND DEATH!!!#Anyways.

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emeraldkniight · 3 months

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𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝒕. drake ✮ eng. . . !

tim drake x female!reader

WARNINGS. . . porn with plot. friends with benefits. fingering, face riding, sex (p in v)

LANGUAGE. . . english is not my first language and I am still studying to master it. It makes me insecure to write by myself in another language, so I used the translator. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

You had never thought of Tim Drake as anything other than your best friend, the guy you trusted and could turn to whenever you were worried about something.

He was your emotional refuge, a place where you could feel completely vulnerable, where you could share all your concerns, knowing that he would be honored to listen.

At the time, you would have sworn that you would never think of Tim as anything other than a friend. But time began to form a deeper bond between you and him.

Conversations that used to be a fun time between friends began to turn into a strange and strangely palpable tension. The hugs grew longer, the rubbing of your bodies more intense, and every lingering look seemed to contain a caged lasciviousness that only you could understand.

As time passed, the emotions you had sworn you would never feel for Tim began to flutter inside you. You found yourself thinking about him differently, noticing how your skin prickled when he touched you, how your sexual fantasies about his person began to invade your mind.

Ever since you started sleeping together and made the deal to be, as Jason said, "friends with benefits," your best friend discovered there was a side of you he didn't know.

You didn't mind invading his room because you wanted to be devoured by someone. You were not afraid to kneel on either side of Tim's head, just because you wanted to ride his face.

Fortunately for you, your friend was incredibly good at the task of eating you. His tongue pushed obscenely between your wet folds to open them, his fingers were busy fluttering against the pleasure cap that ached from lack of attention. With these movements, you gave in to him; the surge of pleasure and the sensitivity you kept in your wet pussy made his touch make you see stars.

— Hold on a little longer. I'm not done yet.

Your hole was getting closer to the emptiness of the stimulation he was giving you. You imagined what his face would be like underneath you, and just the thought of him with his whole mouth smeared from your crying pussy brought you that much closer to the edge.

But to have him look into your eyes as he squeezed your clit with his lips and then scraped it with his tongue was too much for you to bear. The orgasm hit you so hard that Tim didn't even see it coming until his whole mouth was covered with your wonderful taste.

He gave you no respite from the hypersensitivity your previous orgasm had left you with, so he immediately began to fuck you without pity through the hole he had just abused.

With his thumb, he sweetly stroked your center again to make you feel completely at ease with the onslaught.

You felt full. You felt his body fit perfectly into yours, as if he had been made to fuck you. His hot skin burned against yours as his pelvis slammed into you, making a lurid sound that could be heard throughout the room. It was too much to bear.

— T-Tim, Tim! - You cried on his shoulder. - I want you to come inside me, I can't stand it anymore.

You moved to kiss him instead of letting him answer. Your tongue was focused enough on exploring his mouth when you felt the thick, hot fluid between your legs.

You might never be the same friends again, but you could live with it.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #tim drake smut #red robin #tim drake x reader #tim drake x fem!reader

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theorphicangel · 5 months

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“𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

[ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

tags: strangers to lovers, roommate au!, best friend’s brother, fluff, mutual pining, smut, 18+

synopsis: In a desperate search of a new roommate, you have little to no choice but to accept your best friend's / best barista in the world's offer of letting his older brother rent out the room, who just so happens to be conventionally attractive.

You swear nothing will happen between the two of you but one thing eventually leads to another and you find yourself in his bed, leading to an unofficial roommates with benefits situation.

You know deep down it's wrong and you're worried when you start catching feelings...but it's okay because it's only temporary, right?

Series. next chapter

chapter one: a partridge in a pear tree (that doesn’t know how to fly.)

“So…is this everything?”

“Seems like it.” your roommate nods along— well now to be your ex-roommate .

The keys are already placed on the counter as well as the payment of last month’s rent. It’s a shame that the contract had to be cut short immediately, which was ultimately due to her boyfriend’s eagerness to spend their very first Christmas living together.

You are happy for her. Intensely so. You’ve seen the two of them together and they just seem to make butter melt. It all happened so fast, one date, then two, then seven and suddenly they’re speeding ahead to get moved in.

But nevertheless, you’re happy for the two of them. It’s nearly the holidays, basically the perfect excuse to get as romantic as you want.

You let out a sweet smile at MJ, helping her in carrying bags down to her car. As you made your trips up and down the apartment block you couldn’t help but think about the fact that she was already your third roommate this year, only managing to outlast your previous roommates by two months.

And it’d seemed like you guys had just begun to develop a close bond, until she broke the news that she was moving out at the beginning of December.

Which meant that you were spending Christmas alone… again and already your landlord is pushing for you to keep an eye out for any possible tenant around; silently hoping that you can find a replacement before the end of the year.

It’s another burden put on your shoulders. A burden that should be the job of the landlord, not you.

Just when you had thought that you were getting to the end of the year stress-free, now you’re dealing with the exhausting task of finding another roommate or else you’ll be paying double for the rent.

And if the best case scenario works out for you, then you’d have to go through the awkward roommate phase for the nth time: the awkward first meetings, the uncomfortable shuffles around each other, trying to navigate between each other’s own personal space and privacy. I mean, it took you and MJ a few months before you guys had grown accustomed to each other. She was really beginning to feel like more than a roommate, becoming one of your closest friends.

As you both start bringing down the last of her things, the signals to give your last goodbyes draw near. It’s more sentimental than you thought it would be. The two of you find yourselves in a latching hug, squeezing each other tightly.

“God– I know I haven’t known you for long but I’ll miss our little talks in the kitchen all night.” MJ hums, her head leaning on your shoulder.

You agree along with her, “Me too. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy with another roommate.”

“You can always come and visit me and Peter y’know, we only live a few minutes away from downtown.”

You pull away from each other, meeting each other’s eyes. The cold breeze of the December air in New York whips over the two of you, cheeks frozen in frostbite.

“I know, I know, I’ll see if I can make it down for Christmas.”

“You better swear to that.” And it’s at her words that you outstretch your hand, pinky finger in the air. MJ’s own finger meets your own, sealing the promise for definite.

“I promise.”

“Good.” She smiles and you both indulge in one last hug before you wave her off to the car. She wishes you luck on finding a new roommate and you reciprocate the wish on her and Peter’s future together.

Making your way back up to your empty apartment, reality now kicks in. Standing in the doorway at what used to be MJ’s bedroom, the emptiness and plainness of the room reminds you once more that you are alone again.

You wonder how long it’ll take to find a roommate. Not long you hope since New York’s housing crisis isn’t getting any better but you hope to find a somewhat decent human being. Anxiety blooms at your stomach at the thought of them being anything like your first ever roommate – someone who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves, leaving you to become their own personal maid.

The thought remains with you for the rest of the morning, your routine feeling a little more woeful than usual. Your anxiety and overthinking followed you around like a little stray puppy, claiming you to be its rightful owner. It followed you through the bustling streets of New York as you interweaved between busy people all trying to make it to their own nine to fives.

Even when you stepped into O’hara’s , the puppy continued to follow you. O’hara’s was a little Mexican cafe/bakery that you had discovered in your second year of university. As soon as you had stepped into building the warm scent of hot cocoa and pastries filled up your nostrils.

The cafe was already heavily decorated for christmas: printouts of stars and snowflakes cello taped to the windows, lights strewn across the walls of the cafe and a slouching Christmas tree in the right back corner of the cafe, the golden glittering star limping slightly to one sight.

You join the small queue waiting patiently for your turn. You’re met with a smile by the barista, the same one who meets your face every morning.

“¡Buenos días!, Your regular?”

“Good morning, and yes please.” you reply as you tap your card for payment.

“Take a seat, bonita , I’ll come right over.”

The barista’s words add a smile to your face, slightly easing the anxious ache that you had from this morning. You take your favorite seat, the stool in the corner by the window so you can eagerly watch people as you’re taking your morning coffee.

As always it’s not long before the barista comes over with your order, eager to rush over to you.

“Thanks Gabi .” you say as he places down the hot cup of coffee. Two sugars and a drop of milk. Always to your perfection.

“No problem.” He replies, leaning his arm on the empty stool next to yours. Gabriel watches you take the first sip, as he always does when giving you your coffee. You take a small sip, careful not to burn your tongue. The hot liquid quickly travels down your throat, awakening your body as you do so with its bitter yet slightly sweet taste.

“Perfect as always, Gabi, you’re a natural.”

He waves his hand, in mock embarrassment. “Oh stop it, you’re making me blush.” You repeat the compliment to him everyday without fail and he knows that you would never say anything less, not even on his worst days.

“Now for the tip.” He speaks, a smirk drawing on his lips. “Fifty or hundred today?”

“Don’t be an ass, Gabi.” you mutter, reaching for your purse. You hand him a twenty dollar bill.

“Ooooo, looks like she’s being nice today.”

“When am I not ever being nice?”

“Okay, you remember that one time when that lady pushed–?”

“Zip it.” you quip, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence.

“Okay…..” he rolls his eyes, knowing fully well how he could have proved you wrong. “So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or will I have to blackmail you with my mama’s tres leches for you to tell me?”

“The latter.” you pipe up quickly, taking another sip of the coffee. You weren’t even surprised that he tell that something was wrong, he had known you long enough to know your habits.

“You mujer interesada, of course you would. Why did I even bother asking?” [self-interested/greedy woman]

You let out an exhale before confessing your thoughts, the anxiety building up in your stomach becoming too discomforting that you just had to tell him. “My roommate moved out this morning. Again.”

“Another one? But you guys got on so well!” Gabriel exclaimed, his mouth slightly open in shock.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s moving in with her boyfriend. They want to spend their first Christmas together after being in a long distance relationship for so long and I’m happy for them I guess but…” You trail off, looking down into your coffee cup.

“You feel lonely as fuck now?”

You nod your head wordlessly. As always Gabriel was always quick in being able to read your mind. “You don’t need a spare room do you?” you ask suddenly, your eyes eagerly brighten at the thought.

“No, I'm sorry. I’m still living with my mom at the moment.” Gabriel flicks his head over to the counter where his mother was, working in the kitchen making more traditional Mexican cuisine. “I’m saving up to get a place of my own one day.”

You nod along again, humming in response to Gabriel’s plan before glancing out of the window.

A comfortable silence came between the two of you as you both observed the streets of New York. O’hara’s was set in a quiet corner of downtown with few passersby and traffic. One of the many reasons why you loved to come here was for the peace and quiet of the cafe– not many would be able to find that in New York. But also, you liked to take advantage of the free wifi.

“Y’know what?” Gabriel speaks after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” You hum.

“I think I know someone who might need a place.”

“Really?” Your intonation rises higher, surprise evident in your voice. You shake your head, stopping your body from celebrating just yet. It looks like you can’t abandon that puppy yet without some sort of confirmation. “Wait, Gabi, you can’t be shitting me okay? Be serious.”

“Hey, I’m always serious!” He retorts and you deadpan him as your response. “Trust me.” He says. “ I’ll get you someone by the end of the week, if I can convince—”

“Oh my god, you're the best barista ever!” You say aloud, indulging him with a hug before he could finish his sentence.

“And don’t you tell me that everyday.”

The next morning, you feel a little lighter as you walk the streets of New York. For the rest of yesterday, you were unconsciously avoiding your return back to your empty apartment, upset by the knowledge that there was no one at home waiting for you. Yet, waking up this morning and instantly remembering Gabriel’s words had indefinitely removed the sea of anxiety from your body.

You’re a little more excited than usual to head to O’hara’s, hoping to hear back from Gabi about your potential roommate. You step through the doors of the cafe, the usual smell of coffee, pastries and desserts hitting you like always. The queue is a little longer than usual today, but you estimate that down to more people wanting hot drinks to subside with the colder weather in New York lately.

It takes a while to get to your turn but you’re patient. A cheesy smile is on your lips as you step to meet your usual—

“Uh– what would you like?”

Your face freezes at the sound of a gruff voice addressing you instead of your usual cheery ‘¡buenos dias!’ missing from your usual routine. You hesitate a little in making your order, finding it unusual that Gabriel’s not in for work today. You knew that they were running low on staff recently but…Gabriel rarely takes a day off.

Unless he’s hungover.

Instead, his replacement stands as a tall, tanned and muscular man. Older , you assume or perhaps that’s just the notion that you get from the dark under eye-bags that he has. You practically have to crane your neck just to make eye contact.

He looks familiar but you just can’t recognise where you know him from. The features of his face, dark hair, eyes, and nose screams at you to be recognised. But you just can’t put your finger on it for some reason.

“Do I know you?” you speak up, your curiosity violently plaguing your mind.

“Huh?” The man looks down at you, currently struggling to tap in your order on the till.

“Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Oh, okay.” he says, looking down and attempting to tap in your order again.

You stand around, patiently waiting for your order and as you glance around the cafe you find that your favorite spot is taken. Immediately, your shoulders drop. You take it as a sign that today will be a bad day. Not correlated at all, but it does dampen your mood.

It takes more than ten minutes before you get your order, the muscular figure works slowly as if he’s just figuring out how to work all the machines. A newbie you guess.

Finally , your order is ready and instead you settle with taking a seat in a comfy lounge chair. It’s disheartening not having your regular conversation with Gabi today but you’ll cope instead making a mental list of all the errands and work that you need to run through today.

Pulling out your phone, you go to his contact to text Gabriel.

You (8:23am)

Let me guess…you’re hungover? Anyways, I hope you feel better soon <333 Lmk if you need anything…and if you get any updates on the roommate situation. :)

You hit send and slide the phone back into your pocket. You’re not expecting a response anytime soon from him. Picking up your cup, you take a quick sip of your coffee before immediately pulling a disgusted face. Too much sugar.

You’re in the right mind to go back up to the counter and order a new one but by the look on the new barista’s face, which you could tell was filled with stress and internal panic, you think it’s best not to run him ragged even more.

For his sake you decide to keep quiet. For now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to be tagged

#angel writes #a temporary situation.#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #astv miguel #atsv headcanons #astv x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel

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deafsignifcantother · 25 days

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Stardom

♥ prompt: them sneaking into your bedroom window to see you - @urfriendlywriter

♥ summary: alastor's childhood best friend is a movie star and they have a bond between emotionally distant ppl awww so cute (she is trying her hardest to express affection but is internally screaming at her fruitless attempts and he thinks it's funny). wrote this as a warmup for an assignment

♥ relationship: alastor x feminine deaf reader

♥ word count: 2.8k

♥ notes: reader's mother is a prominent character and she's a kind person, alastor's mom is prominent too, scenes from childhood -> teen -> adult, alastor is just a romantic man, stone-faced reader

One day, there was a knock at his front door. His mother opened it after drying her hands, stepping away from the kitchen. Behind the door was another mother and child at the door. Alastor peeked from behind his mother, seeing you with your head down. He immediately recognized you when his mom took him to the theatre. You were nothing like you were on the screen. Your timid posture caught him off guard immediately, as did the blank expression on your face. Your mom was there to apologize for your manners after you had continuously thrown your unwanted toys into their yard.

Alastor watched from his window every time you did, analyzing the look of frustration you had. He would smile to himself; his dimples presented themselves to no one but his reflection until, one day, you looked up at him. Your expressions were dazzling to him, though you are the same age, you know more about presentation and physical articulation than he ever could.

You hit the big screen in his teenage years. It was like you were born to be a scene's star. But his fascination with you genuinely deepened when he saw you off-screen with your resting, blank expression.

Flash. Flash flash.

The light drowns you. You cover your eyes with your hands, shielding yourself from the bright glow from your window. The lamps in your room are switched off—of course they are—and you have been trying your hardest to sleep. Tossing and turning is the worst part of stressful nights.

Behind the beaming light, you see a pair of pearly whites. Alastor watches the smile grow on your face. 'Smile,' that's how he likes to describe it. It's more of a smirk, one that twitches whenever you try and hide it. If he wasn't so close to you, he'd think you were plotting against him, which makes his heart even more drawn to that smile of yours. His closed-off, stubborn demeanor threatens to crack, though he's waiting to see if you'll initiate a peril to the friendship: companionship. His internal struggle, torn between his defensive nature and growing affection for you, is a constant battle.

"Alastor," you breathe out before opening the window and sliding it up. The night wind shakes his hair, and his button-up is buttoned to the collar. He throws the flashlight aimlessly and it lands on the bed. Once he fully steps into your room, he unbuttons the top and rolls up his sleeves while you close the window behind him. He flicks the lamp on.

"It's midnight," you sign while his eyes lock on your hands.

"And I wanted to see you. Were you sleeping?"

"No."

"I thought so."

You let out a laugh through your nose.

Not even an hour pasts before Alastor sits cross-legged on the floor, his gaze fixed on the walls. Beside him, you hold a handful of playing cards, staring intensely at them to see your next move. He has already put his card down.

"When do you leave?" He signs, gaining your attention. "In the morning or afternoon?"

You sigh, your expression changing, your hands dropping the cards. "Don't think about that right now."

"I will. You know you don't have to go."

"This movie is my chance. My chance to do something extraordinary, something that could change everything."

He just nods. "I understand. And I'm happy for you." The quietness of the room starts to bother him. The only sound is the slight hum of the lamp. Each moment stretched like an eternity as they played cards.

Finally, you reach out, your hand finding his. "I'll come back if living in a damn movie trailer is that bad." You sign, the smallest smile on your face.

"Stardom." He signs.

"Win some, lose some." You chuckle, the sound a bittersweet melody in the stillness of the night. "Beats the weather here."

His smile forms into a lopsided, childish grin. Louisiana summers are the worst, both for the weather and how during that time, your mother would whisk you away to introduce you to filmmakers. Alastor would look out the window at the empty house. Even as a teenager, he imagined you'd return to whisk your childhood toys into his yard.

More hours pass, after he wins the game (as usual), the weight of goodbye hangs heavy in the air; you find solace in knowing that your absence won't be forever, however long it may seem. You both sit on your bed and read in perfect silence. Your eyes constantly flicker at him, the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw. He's attractive; it almost draws you in.

Before he leaves, you finally go through your closet and throw him a shirt he left behind the last time he was in your room. He doesn't catch it immediately, and it hits his chest; he hugs it.

You lift your chin. "I'm giving it back before it becomes mine."

"Oh, no worries there." His eyes sparkle when he notices the combining smell of yours and his. When you turn to face the closet again, he holds it up to his face and inhales an extended dose. His eyelids droop, his grip tightens. What a lovely scent. He even lets out an audible growl while eyeing the back of your head. When you face him again, you find his eyes locked on yours.

His aura looms within the confines of your bedroom. His eyes are round and youthful, and his forming smile lines are even more visible in the yellow-toned lighting.

"The days are coming to an end." He signs. Your lips tighten, a juxtaposition to his. Beneath your calm exterior lay an intensely beating heart and a distant mind. One person had managed to pierce the armor around your nature.

Alastor, stop thinking about that damn movie.

But the movie is always on his mind. The weight of impending farewells feels like thorns. You're going to disappear from the neighborhood, while your face and your body will be on his mother's tiny television; Alastor knows he won't be able to see the light in your eyes or the individual hair on your brows like he can when he stands close to you.

When dawn paints the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting long shadows across the room, Alastor stares outside, opening the window, his brown eyes reflecting the colors.

"Don't fall," you sign while helping him swing his feet past the window seal.

"Will you stay if I do?"

"I don't know, but if you injure yourself my mom will definitely think I did it."

Alastor tilts his head with a twisted grin, which forms into a smile as you squint at him. He slides a bit forward, his thighs off of the ledge, watching your expression. His feet dangle dangerously before his fingers close around the wooden seal. He slides back towards you, lifting a hand to sign. "Just kidding."

With your voice, you jeer sarcastically, "Ha-ha-ha."

After he safely drops next to the tree he used to climb up, his head started spinning, he carries with him the memory of your voice; he had never heard it before.

Gosh, did you make it big. Every time Alastor walks to school, he can see your face plastered on the front cover of newspapers. He tosses a nickel at the storesmen, buying a copy each week.

You never ended up coming home, staying in the city to live out your ever-blooming career. But thankfully, your mother adored Alastor and was appreciative that you had such a close friend. Every time you moved locations, she let Alastor know. Both your and and his mother dreaded the idea of you two losing contact.

His mother teases him about you all the time.

"She's so pretty." "How could you not tell she liked you?" "So, how's that little charmer?" "Maybe you should be in movies, too." "How about you send her some fan mail?"

By his mother's advice, he started writing you letters.

Your mother hands you them whenever she finds them in the P.O. box. With how hot Houston has gotten, the letters are warm once you get them. The stamps were 32 USA, the same image of a timey radio. He definitely has a doctor's handwriting. You've kept each letter in a drawer under your bed, ensuring their safety.

Cameras stand poised, ready to capture the magic of the scene about to unfold. Among the hustle and bustle of crew members and actors, you are the one that stands out the most with your fake, radiant smile and the judgment in your eyes.

As the director calls for action, you step into the scene, slipping effortlessly into your role. You immerse yourself in the story. In these silent movies, you have your own unique shine.

Meanwhile, Alastor paces nervously in his hotel room, constantly cleaning his glasses—a nervous habit—and smoothing his hair behind his ears. He has been counting down the days until he can surprise you, a result of teamwork between his mom and yours. With a bouquet of flowers and an old (and very tacky) friendship bracelet, he makes his way to the movie set.

The director waves his hands to signal a cut. All he gives you is a thumbs up. He doesn't know anything else. You breathe, your face falling into its usual, aggressively neutral look.

With his voice, the director announces to the rest of the crew the schedule for the rest of the day and the time: noon, which means the beginning of the lunch break. All you can do is stand impatiently waiting for a signal of dismissal. The dress you have on is holding your diaphragm tightly, and your headpiece is pinched too close to your skin. This movie is testing your limits.

One motivator that keeps you staying in these uncomfortable positions is representation. You're blessed to be able to be both loved and openly deaf; in this era, others are not as fortunate. In your imagination, one day, you can stand beside Charlie Chaplin and Granville Redmond.

Gosh, what a dream.

As Alastor arrived, he marveled at the grandeur of the production—its sheer magnitude was enough to amaze him. Alone, he navigated through the maze of trailers and equipment until he found himself standing at the edge of the set, watching you and keeping an eye on your crossed arms and hard stare.

"Cher..." he whispered to himself. And at this moment, he knew he had to see you, see you close, and tell you just how proud he was. Seeing you within a fantasy realm while maintaining your usual glare is beautiful. Your costume makes you look like a princess, but your face makes you look like a queen.

Alastor waited for the perfect moment to make his entrance, ha. And as the director called for the break, he seized his chance.

Once you turn to leave, your eyes widen in surprise, and you see Alastor standing before you, a smile lighting up his face.

"Alastor!" Your hands sign his name quickly. With the grace born of pure joy, you take a step closer, testing the boundaries of contact. You haven't initiated touch with someone in a very long time. Your eyes are locked on the flowers in his hand. He holds them out, and with elegance, you take them.

"I had to see you," Alastor signs with his now free hands, his face filled with admiration. "I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer."

You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion coursing through your veins. You can almost kiss him. "Thank you." After signing, your fingers touch the petals of the bouquet. "What a lovely surprise! What's the occasion for the flowers?"

His thoughts of you are more than just friendly, but for now, he is content to bask in the warmth of your presence. His eyebrow twitches. What's the occasion? You always say the strangest things.

"Just wanted to brighten your day," he replies, his eyes dropping to the flowers. Their vibrant colors perfectly match the costume.

"They're beautiful, Alastor. Thank you."

You walk towards the door he entered through, and he follows you, letting you lead the way.

Your cozy trailer now smells of fresh blooms.

A familiar, harsh glow of fluorescent lights casts shadows across the room, painting your temporary home in hues of yellow and gold. You sit perched on the sofa's edge, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric, your heart fluttering like a caged bird.

Beside you, Alastor sits with an air of casualness that disguised the storm of emotions within him. There's a newfound curiosity; perhaps his mother's words are getting to him. His feelings are uninvited, unintentional, and unwelcomed. His gaze lingers on you, drinking how your eyes sparkle in the dim light, the curve of your fingers soft and inviting. The minutes last for eternities as you sit quietly. There is a faint sound of the people walking outside, and for Alastor, it heightens the tension of you two being alone together.

You have nothing to say. If you even look at him, you worry that your face will flush. His words, I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer, repeat in your mind's eye. His signing is always so delicate, so beautiful. Oh, how you've missed him. You didn't even realize how much you cherished him.

Finally, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, he puts a hand on your knee and keeps it there while his other signs. "Your thoughts are loud."

Are they?

You turn to him, your eyes searching his for any hint of truth. "You've caught me off guard," you admit, hesitant to show what you'd consider vulnerability, something you refuse to display. He instantly notices how different your demeanor is from what he knew.

Your gazes lock, the air crackling with electricity as you dance around the ridge of something unspoken, plain, and nowhere near sudden.

With a tentative hand, you grab his wrist and remove his hand from you. You don't let him go. The air seems still. And then, in the space between heartbeats, you bring his hand up to your lips and place a small kiss along his knuckle. The world around him fades into insignificance, and he loses himself. His mother is going to think she's psychic.

You release his hand, noticing the friendship bracelet you had made all the years ago, and it takes him a second before he returns it to his lap.

You sign. "I greatly appreciate this... and you."

Is there a but?

There's a significant pause before your next sentence as if you're going through all his possible responses. "I've missed you dearly."

He smiles. "I'm glad."

The look on your face reads as if you're confessing a secret. All you can do is nod and stand, adjusting your costume. "Good, so how long are you staying?"

You found yourself embarrassed at how you acted when he had come to visit. You were closed off in a way you promised you'd never be to him, you know it's due to the months spent away from him (and with annoying strangers). You embark on a mission to express your affection in the most simple, traditional way. On the nights you can't sleep, you spend hours crafting a heartfelt letter, each word carefully chosen. You don't want your intentions to be obvious, but you also want him to be able to infer what you're spelling out.

The summer heat gives you a headache as much as your mother's cocky smirk does when you hand her the letter. You roll your eyes, "Just send this to him."

She looks over the envelope, signing with one hand. "A love letter, huh?"

"Maybe."

She lifts her chin and shakes her shoulders.

His mother opens all of his mail except for the ones you send. Days after your mother sends it, his opens her mailbox and immediately she recognizes your handwriting and the regular postal stamps you use.

When she tosses it on the table in front of Alastor, a bright smile lights up on his face. He opens it carefully to keep your current address intact and his mother watches with a calm smile. His expression softens as he reads the words penned with care, soft poetry that only an artist can write.

"Is it what I think it is?" His mother asks.

"Mother." He grits his teeth, and she giggles, giving him mercy for his attitude, but only this once. She's happy to have won in the continuous teasing.

Amidst the falling leaves and the whisper of the autumn breeze, when his response letter gets handed to you, you open it as soon as you can. Your forbearing attitude remains intact but your breathing noticeably quickens with the silent symphony of love. It's as enduring as the changing seasons. Fall has begun; you're going to see him again.

With a strange affection, you hold the letter to your chest. You note his last line: "I'll see you soon, my love."

#x deaf reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor #chose the gif bc it looks like she's signing deer

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rfswitchart · 3 months

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Hunter's Comfort Food

I think, at this point, you all know my personal favorite Owl House headcanon. I shouldn't have to say what it is, you already know what I'm about to discuss. However, I am going to describe why Hunter loves what he does and maybe you'll adopt it as your headcanon too...

It all started when Hunter ran away from the Emperor's Coven Post-Hollow Mind. He'd been living in the paranormatorim in Hexside since, building a nest and living on snacks. Gus, having seen the former Golden Guard living so dreadfully, offers him his lunch, which, among other things, included a sandwich.

Hunter then helps Gus escape Adrian and the scouts, citing his reason for doing so being because Gus offered him food. When the illusionist questions him on it, Hunter says "It was a really good sandwich." As many have pointed out, Hunter's diet in the castle was probably miserable. On top of it, he was clearly malnourished, as several characters (Luz, Eda, Amity, Edric, Emira, Matt) have said. So it is assumed he didn't have a great time food wise, which is why he looked so happy eating that loaf of bread in King's Tide...

Yeah, look at him go. Happily chewing on some bread and being pleased as punch over it. And this is where my HC came to be, Hunter and Gus bonding over a simple offering of food. A kindness Hunter had probably never known until then, combined with something that probably saved his life or at the very least made him feel much better. I feel like that sole interaction weighed on Hunter's heart, and it made him fall in love with sandwiches. After all, without Gus' sandwich, he would have never been able to sit down and actually talk about how he was feeling about Belos. He wouldn't have bonded with Gus and helped the younger witch when he needed it most. Hunter developed an intensely strong bond with Gus, a friendship and brotherhood forged in love, trust, and sandwiches.

That said, I assume when they were trapped in the human realm, Hunter started looking into various types of sandwiches (with the help of Camila and Luz, of course.) Figuring out what the best meats and cheeses were. What kinds of vegetables go well with them (information he totally shared with Willow, obviously.) The best kinds of bread and condiments to compliment the other ingredients. I assume he learned about what foods he liked and disliked (boy loves himself some olives, btw.) Of course, this eventually lead to the ultimate creation. His pride and joy: The True Hero Sub. The culmination of his knowledge and understanding of foods that allowed him to create divinity between two slices of bread (well, shoved into a loaf of french bread, but hey, who's counting?)

Of course, this is a BIG sandwich. I know, that's the one I made myself. It is about 2' long (60.69cm for you non-Americans.) It is not something you can eat by yourself, and Hunter would never want to eat it alone. Because of this sandwich, Hunter came up with his philosophy on food; "Food tastes best when shared with others." So I assume the first time he made one, he shared it with the others. Definitely Gus, his sandwich brethren, and possibly Willow, someone Hunter would be thrilled to share his accomplishments with.

And this probably continued as he became an adult. I bet anything that Hunter has a series of sandwiches he brings with him to work. He maybe even wrote down his own cookbook of sorts for them. You KNOW anytime he had a new idea, Gus was the first person he told about it. He probably even made a book to make sandwiches to represent Cosmic Frontier characters (you know Gus AND Camila happily assisted him.) And that's my headcanon. A boy, his best friend, and a type of food that brought them closer and possibly even saved a life in more than one sense. In this house, we respect the Sandwich Bros. (Tagging @childlikegoblinqueen, @unniebeans, and @probablyhuntersmom, who I assume have also had this headcanon infect their brain for some time. *evil laugh*)

#the owl house #toh hunter #hunter noceda #toh headcanon #hunter deamonne #toh gus #gus porter #sandwich bros #hunter loves sandwiches

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matan4il · 1 year

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Buddie 616 meta

Maybe I’ll start with Eddie confirming something I’d already discussed in my meta posts more than once before, most recently in my 614 meta, which is that he married Shannon because she got pregnant. He heavily insinuated this to Bobby back in 217, but now he said it explicitly, to everyone, and without the same kind of weight which we saw from him in the past. I think this change is indicative of how he IS healing from the trauma of how badly his marriage failed and how guilty he’s felt over it, now that he’s capable of talking about it more lightly than he did before. I love that for our boy. ~~

Speaking of these men actually being boys, moron husbands, partners in dumbness, we got Buck and Eddie sharing one brain cell and NOT putting it to good use. Even though in the overall scheme of 911 things, that might not seem that significant, I have to say I just love seeing them like that. It’s FUN seeing them being morons who support each other in the way they try to deal with Chim thinking that just popping the question to Maddie is enough, or in Eddie supporting Buck’s dumbass suggestion of a flash mob, or just being pressed together in the fire truck ‘coz they never have any personal boundaries with each other and they don’t understand why those would even be needed (seriously, don’t think too long about how all of a sudden five people had to squeeze in the back instead of four, and OF COURSE it would be Buck and Eddie rubbing thighs together, because no other pair out of the whole team is as comfortable with each other’s bodies). This may not be the deepest part of their bond, but it IS a part of it, a consistent one, the daily partnership that’s the foundation for the big, important, profound parts. ~~

Once again, we get a demonstration of how the way Buck and Eddie are with each other is different to how they act with their other friends. Even when Eddie is exasperated with Buck, he never actually gets upset, he just tries to get Buck to focus, like we saw him in 516. But with Ravi, Eddie does kinda snap.

Buck as well, when he hears some unpleasant truths about Madney from Hen, there’s no fondness underlining their talk, as much as we know that they DO love each other and have a sibling-like relationship. But compare that to how insufferably affectionate the glances that Buddie exchanged in 504 were as Eddie did essentially the same thing for Buck. ~~

And then of course, we see how Hen has Chimney’s back in this ep, putting his well being first, but she does end up hurting him. They talk it over, and within the same ep she apologizes, he forgives her, everything is resolved, and they move. It’s lovely, but think about the difference in intensity between this and what Buddie went through back in s3. Buck files the lawsuit that would stop him from seeing Eddie in 304. Then the very reserved Eddie has a public meltdown, in the middle of a store, and right in front of his colleagues, because he can’t deal with Buck not being in his life. In fact, that’s the final straw that makes Eddie turn to street fighting. Not only that, because the intensity of his feelings overwhelms him, he doesn’t even directly express his hurt, he uses Chris to convey how much Eddie himself is missing Buck. When Buck realizes just how much pain he unintentionally caused, he wants to apologize, but Eddie is too hurt to be able to hear him out right away. It’s only in 306 that they finally talk, Eddie forgives Buck and then we get the beauty of their hug. But this is STILL not the final piece, no. The show will get back to this in the kitchen scene in 309, where Buck shows Eddie he’s worth apologizing to a second time (even though he’s not even asking Buck to), and the final shot of this is the domestic image of Buddifer on the couch, playing video games together. This is when we know that all is TRULY forgiven, when we get to see them once more as a family unit. Because that’s what they are on top of being best friends, like Hen and Chimney. ~~

I’ll point out that Madney and Buddie paralleling is not new. This has been an ongoing theme since Buck and Chim’s new love interests were both introduced in 201, and since Madney got their onset in 206. The very fact that Maddie thinking Chim’s cute is revealed through a dialogue between the Buckley siblings that also indicates Buck sees Eddie in the same light says it all. I have also gone on about how Buck and Maddie served as truth tellers, voicing their sibling’s crush back to them, I have talked about how Madney were friends first, incredibly domestic friends with their own intertwined routine, before they became explicitly romantic, I wrote a whole meta post about the parallels between Madney and Buddie in 512, and now I can add to this. Because Madney easily fell into the comfort of domestic life, Chim told us this week that got in the way of them stopping to make their commitment official. That’s in a sense Buddie’s story, too. They’ve been building their lives and family unit together without even clocking that they can and should stop to figure out what this thing between them is, and commit to it.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I’m so thankful to the amazing @whosoldherout for the meta gifs she does each week! They’re always challenging, and you always manage to knock it out of the park!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #buddieedit #911edit #madney #911 spoilers #wm #buddie gifs #buddie edit #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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deftmeat · 5 months

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‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ 彡 ‎ ‎venom!harry knows you’re in denial

‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎

NSFW ( love my men feral and insane )

w a r n i n g : really HEAVY explicit content. non con, bondage by symbiote powers?, spit play. yeah this one got away from me.

inky black tendrils snaked up your arms, roughly pinning them above your head- snuggly gripped around your wrists, so tight it began to make your hands numb with a dull ache.

“harry.. please..” you had begged for a while now, but it was rather pointless. the black tar had concealed your best friend entirely, leaving drastically white and sharp slits in the center of what was its face paired with just below them, massive teeth that could be compared to miniature sharp daggers.

“we are not harry.”

the alien holding harry captive insisted, it’s low raspy voice sending shivers down your body and settling in a heavy lump right in your stomach.

the looming creature leaned in toward you, only for you to turn away from its menacing glare, refusing to look it in it’s cloudy white eyes.

but it wasn’t too pleased with your defiance, large black tentacle like limbs slithered up your back and twisted around your throat, tightening and yanking your face back parallel to his. not only was it effective in forcing your attention back but you felt the air in your lungs constrict. and when you gasped, that’s when the alien lunged it’s head forward and unhinged his massive jaw- a long and slimy, throbbing tongue dragged out.

you flinched when you felt warm slick saliva hit your collarbones as it fell off the wet muscle, said tongue moving to ghost your bottom lip, threatening to dip inside your mouth.

you snapped it shut and the creature growled, the white slits in its face narrowing.

“bad..girl..”

the degradation made your heart drop. you weren’t sure if it was out of how unsettled you felt or the fact you were overwhelmed. between feeling it’s uncontrollable touch all over your trapped body or how it regarded you with such intense attention.

“harry…” you whispered, squirming but with no intention of escaping. it made the creature grimace, knowing you wouldn’t relent until you saw him.

so with a jerk of its head, it pulled back, the dark ropes slinking away, tucking themselves behind the back of a very pale and sickly looking harry.

you took him in while you had the opportunity- his under eyes were smeared with a dark red and bruising purple, black veins framing his face along his jaw. your eyes traced them down, seeing them webbed and tangling until they disappeared into the collar of his wrinkled grey t-shirt.

“you’re very stubborn.” was all he said, leaning back to examine how his counterpart had you all spread out and imprisoned before him. he could really see the resemblance of a mouse in a rat trap.

“don’t listen to it.” you ignored his statement, following through with the initial reason you even came to find him. “it doesn’t want to help you, it only wants to feed off you.”

but your prodding irritated harry, unconsciously making venom squeeze itself harder over you. it earned himself a high pitched cry from you and he watched while your face scrunched up in pain.

“you don’t know anything. you don’t know us.”

you didn’t like how bonded he was with that thing, using third person to regard it and himself.

“no but i know you-“ you countered, yanking on the tendrils clamped over your wrists. so hard you felt like you could dislocate your shoulder.

there was a brief flicker of something in your best friend’s eyes, his face momentarily softening at your words. there was some of the harry that you knew still in there. but he must’ve been told to think otherwise because the look was gone and he replaced it with a deep frown, once again inching his face down to yours.

“is that why you didn’t reach out to me? used peter as your little messenger the entire time i was gone?”

the accusation hurt but you deserved it, “i was scared- okay? i had feelings for you that i couldn’t-“ you were cut off by your own whimper, the tar limbs around your neck only gripping tighter.

“and when i came back, you avoided me. pretended like you didn’t recognize me.” harry’s voice turned rough, eyes wild and locked onto yours, which began to water and obscure your vision.

“ha..rry-“ the feeling in your head was getting light and full of tingles but harry wasn’t going to let you pass out just yet. he made venom retract from your neck only to be replaced by harry’s own large and black veiny hands. his grip was notably more weak but still firm.

“do you know how long i waited to see you again? how badly i wanted to..” but he didn’t finish his sentence, instead letting his head drop with a quiet sigh.

you took the moment of silence to grab a deep breath of air, panting from your previous lack of oxygen. before you could try and plea with harry again, he lifted his head, his face this time was troubled. but still held with the erratic power that coursed through him.

he didn’t say anything but you could feel the conversation he was having with himself. maybe you were closer to convincing him than you thought?

of course, that presumption was quickly proven wrong when the ropes holding you captive shoved you down with brutal force. you felt your spine crack and your back blossom with a burning heat- now being pinned to the cold cemented floor.

harry only took two steps to hover over you, the dark shadows casting down on his features making him look menacing.

“now you’ll feel as i felt. hopeless. vulnerable.”

you didn’t have time to ponder what he meant by that before you felt large pulsating tentacles glide over your hips and sides. it was briefly ticklish but you were too distracted to care when you looked down.

venom was starting to twist itself around your midriff, tendrils slowly lifting your shirt up your stomach and exposing your bellybutton. it left the fabric bunched up just below your tits, your entire lower half revealed to the darkness and harry’s eyes.

“what..” you opened your mouth just to have it stuffed full with venom. your words of refusal were muffled, watching the same limbs in your mouth now hooking through your waistband and tugging them down, almost impatiently. they swirled around the material before ripping holes into it and using the breaches to tear the pants into two with a loud sccrrrp.

with eyes widened and shouts concealed, you were helpless to prevent the destruction of your clothes. harry had been a bystander while it happened, his eyes tracking every action as if he were mentally communicating with the alien to do what he wanted to you.

he felt satisfied with how he left you now, underwear on display for his hungry eyes, one shoe off your foot and shirt stuck to your sweat sticky skin.

“doesn’t feel too good, does it?” he tsked down at your trembling body, still held down by his partner. your retort was obviously incoherent but harry didn’t bother to ask venom to retract from you to hear it properly. no, instead he got him to flip you around.

the cry you released vibrated in your chest just as the tendrils looped down to roll you over- wrapping around your thighs to lift your hips up and tuck your knees under yourself. the pressure you felt on your back caused your back to arch down and your cheek to squish right up against the cold floor.

harry had you face down and ass up- hands still bound by venom but above your head. the new position made your shoulders and back ache while your neck cramped with the strain.

at least the stifling gag you had was now removed, spit from your mouth connected to the slithering dark snake. it retreated and left your line of sight, but you felt it rather than saw it as it crawled up your forearm and bicep to keep you stuck as you were.

“please.. dont.” your voice was hoarse after all your attempts to voice your protests despite being suppressed. the only answer you got was a strong force pulling your legs apart. it frustrated you that you couldn’t see what harry was doing- and he knew it. he wanted you riled up and pissed off.

“oh, come on now. don’t tell me you aren’t into this, even just a little bit.” his voice mocked from behind you, the sound of him closer than it was before. he was walking closer, eyes zeroed in on your underwear clinging to your ass, the way he had you on the floor making the fabric hug your body in a way he could see the exact lines of where your asscheeks began and ended. not to mention inbetween them.

“this.. isn’t you!” struggling only made your ass bounce and now.. harry needed to touch you for himself. he crouched down and you could feel the movement, anticipation and anxiety flooding your stomach like a waterfall.

once he was level with your ass, he automatically reached out on instinct, smacking it to watch gravity take effect and ripple under the impact. your reactions encouraged him, big veiny hands moulding against the soft flesh hidden under the cloth, long fingers pressing down to grab a large handful of you.

you felt nauseous at the idea of your best friend touching you like this, having his way with you while he had an alien- not from this planet- hold you down and make you endure it. if peter told you this is how you’d end up an hour ago you wouldn’t have believed him. this scenario was so crazily obscure that he probably couldn’t have predicted this. you definitely weren’t into it.

harry would prove you wrong, oh so wrong. you were just in denial. denial about how you felt about us. he wanted to prove you wrong. he was going to, no matter what it took.

he lifted his hand off you, the spot he had placed it was left with a sizzling warmth that pulled at you in the worst way. like you knew that wasn’t the worst of what he wanted to do to you.

“you shouldn’t have come looking for me.” the force on your back lightened only to be replaced with a sturdy weight, body heat coaxing you to remain placid and still.

“you should’ve listened to pete.” harry’s voice was low and thick, right next to your ear. you tried to shift yourself to get more comfortable under the new pressing body on top of yours but he went limp causing your face to get more mushed up against cement.

“such a bad girl. but it’s okay. i’ll forgive you,” you felt like he had more to say but he left it to linger in the darkness between you two- or three.

the crushing weight left and once again venom slunk his tendrils over and around you to take over. but harry didn’t leave you, no, he only got off you so he could slip his greedy rough hands under the elastic of your last remaining piece of dignity on your lower body.

a soft, amused laugh poured from from his mouth at the sound of your surprised gasp, soon morphing into a strangled groan when he selfishly teased your clit. he had his fun, the pads of his index and middle fingers each pressing down on either side of your slit and pushing outwards, spreading you open underneath your panties.

“ahah- h-har,” it was difficult to talk due to you currently eating cement, your hips shrinking away from the way he held your pussy lips apart. warmth flooded your abdomen and between your parted legs, a fresh gush to coat his prying digits.

“shit.” harry grunted, his own stomach clenching with a rush of awakened lust. you sounded so submissive and malleable by just a simple stimulation. he found it kind of cute. venom must’ve too, the voice inside his head hushed but clear, ‘must.. be corrupted.’

you did. you deserved to be shown how good having this much power feels. to be broken down into nothing and then built back up, all because of us.

without so much of a warning or indication of what was about to happen, harry flicked his wrist and delved two fingers inside your puffy cunt. it wasn’t as wet as he had wanted it to be, a bit disappointed in venom for being so impatient but shoved them deeper nonetheless.

it milked a mewl out of you, your hips jerking back and legs twitching from underneath your stomach. your knees where already aching from holding such an uncomfortable position for so long but the sudden fullness pressing against your unexpecting, raw walls caused you to thrash around in your black confines and everything hurt much worse than before.

“fuhhkk!” your voice cracked and drawled out the curse, eyes fluttering closed at being stretched without care. “take it. know you can.” with the battle of venom’s influence in his head, harry’s demand came out gravely and harsh. to convince you more, he swirled his fingers inside and turned them over so that the back of his hand was facing upwards while his inner wrist was directed to the floor.

the feeling of him moving inside of you made your stomach constrict and your pussy to stutter around his long inky veined digits. harry took this as a good sign and continued, a small smile playing on his lips.

“that’s it. feel you sucking them in.” he muttered, doing something you didn’t expect. he curled his fingers down, purposefully hitting that spongy spot in the upper part of your cunt. he used the advantage of your current form and it helped his fingers sink deeper, his other fingers tucked into his palm like they would be in a fist.

no matter how much you had tried to prepare to stifle a potential moan- you couldn’t stop the one that burst past your lips, eyes rolling back contrary to your determined will. it only got louder the faster harry fingered your pussy, obscene wet squelches coming from inside your drenched underwear. the fabric moved every time harry pulled out and dived back in.

“g-g-uhhh..” you sounded so ruined, it made harry eager to keep going. he knew his cock was leaking just by how much it kicked inside his jeans without even looking down. he was so desperate to replace his fingers with his dick but that was venom pressuring him to destroy your last droplets of composure and pride.

he needed to be patient, he countered the parasite in his system. he wouldn’t relent until you were full and leaking his cum, he was determined on that. but first he needed you to be begging for it. hungry to belong to him.

“p..leeese.. hareey..st-ooop.” he felt spurred on by your slurs and hiccups, his other hand dipping into your waistband elastic on your lower back to slide it off over your ass. but it was too slow for venom, his own dark slug-like limb reaching out to rip the garment off you in pieces.

the lack of reaction on your slumped over end proved just how drunk you were alone on the sensation between your messy thighs, not even the cold air attacking your sensitive clit was not enough to garner anything out of you besides mumbled whines and lazy whimpers from harry’s consistent assault.

he scooted closer behind you, moving to kneel down since his cock was straining too much against his pants for him to crouch any longer. now that he was able to actually see what his fingers looked like fucking in and out of you like this, he needed to get his stupid jeans off right goddamn now.

using his other unoccupied hand, he sloppily undid his belt, the clinking of the metal was drowned out over the sounds you made when he added a third finger, your slick drizzling down his knuckles and palm, reaching past his wrist to his forearm. harry made no attempt to sooth you while he pried open your swollen and abused pussy, too focused on relieving his own angry cock.

you couldn’t really feel your hands anymore, pins and needles running through each nerve every time you tried to bend each finger or make a fist. venom had you in a deadly lock, deep red and purple mixing together to stain your skin for more than just one day. you’d be surprised if he didn’t break them either, the tendrils clamping down harder the more harry got closer to rutting his dick in you. he wanted you to know you couldn’t prevent it. couldn’t escape it or hold it off for much longer. you were fucked. about to be- literally.

the pressure on your head lifted momentarily and you were able to look back over your shoulder- just in time to get a good eyeful of harry before he yanked his fingers out of you. you groaned instinctively at the loss of being filled, some of your sticky slick being taken along with his hand. harry lifted his arm up and stared at it, mesmerized at the way your juices looked on his skin, contrasting the inky webs that littered his entire body.

his eyes lowered to meet yours once he noticed you watching him and he smirked smugly, his tongue slithering out to trail up his pale wrist and palm. your eyes flitted to catch it, seeing the way he swirled around his index finger and put it in his mouth, sucking you clean off of it. and damnit, did your cunt sputter around nothing, eager and begging to feel his mouth on your folds.

but harry was done with foreplay. he could fucking smell how badly you needed him inside and pounding your dripping pussy. unbeknownst to you, he was kind enough to let you lift your head up, knowing you’d look back. knowing you’d give into your primal desire to be fucked like the pretty little slut you had always wanted to be for him. you just weren’t aware of it. yet.

“i don’t think y-you want me to stop.” he retorted but his voice cracked from how clouded his head was, the blood no longer in his head but prominently flowing through his cock- the fleshy pink tip was leaking large glistening drops of precum, pale white and travelling down his veiny dick to pool at his balls that throbbed with a growing urge to empty in you more than once.

“is this what you wanted? when you came looking for me?” harry tried to steady his voice, unable to help but buck his hips with longing for friction, the hand he used to split you open curled down to grab his cock, teasing his balls on the way down.

“n..no-o..” you sniffled, body simultaneously aching and yet buzzing with how aroused you had become far beyond how you originally felt when you first decided to confront your best friend.

“no? you sure about that baby?” that same mocking tone hit your ears before harry took his cock and prodded the spot between your cunt and asshole before dragging it down, running his wet tip along your swollen and red pussy lips. you clenched your teeth before your moan slipped through the gaps passed your lips, his precum mixing with your slick and effectively getting you wet enough so he could fill you to the brim- to which he did until he could feel the ridged and bumpy surface of where your cervix began. but it wasn’t enough for him, harry groaning with possessiveness and venom’s inability to let things go, pushed deeper still, painfully pressing against the wall even though there wasn’t much space for him to go.

you yelled out, eyes shutting as tears fell from your waterline and made long streaks stain your face. the pain mingled with the rest of the soreness that collected along the entirety of your body, heightening your awareness of how harry and venom were everywhere around you, your pussy disobeying your consciousness and squeezing the intruding cock inside.

which you dreaded because harry loved it, his palms smacking heavily down on your hips, finger tips digging down into your skin and tugging you into him, taking you again and just as aggressively. no matter how much you begged him to slow down, he sped up, lowering his weight back onto you, only this time, dipping his head to yours so he could suck big, prominent hickeys and marks into the back and sides of your neck.

he fucked you fast, pistoning his own hips in a dominating pace just to be sure you could feel every single inch of him inside you. you definitely could, there was no doubt. it didn’t help when you felt him grab a fistful of your hair and force your head back, tilting your chin to angle it perfectly for him to lean in and spit inside your mouth.

“swallow.” he commanded you- you listened, opening your mouth after to prove you did just as he said. so he did it again but told you not to eat it, instead shifting his weight evenly so he could bring his hand up and make you take his fingers in your mouth just as he had earlier to his own.

you let him twirl his fingers around your tongue, scooping up his own saliva and playing with it inside your mouth before he pulled them out and moved them out of sight.

you thought nothing of it though, way too invested and absorbed with his cock dragging along your drippy pussy, his body trapping you against the floor, relentlessly thrusting himself in you brutally. not until you felt pressure along your asshole and something push inside.

“gonna feel all of me. mine now. ours.” the voice in your ear sounded a million miles away, your jaw going slack when harry forced his finger passed the tight ring above the same sloppy cunt he was fucking. it felt like you couldn’t breathe due to the tension building up inside your pelvis and spine, unable to speak out and protest against whatever the hell he was doing.

you certainly didn’t miss the revisted use of third person and felt the progress you assumed you had slip away. harry wouldn’t listen to you- wouldn’t listen to peter or mary jane. he wasn’t past saving- yet was just as much of a hypocrite. he was the one in denial.

and you could tell, as he used your devastated holes, using you as his last connection to himself. to who he was before.

proving you right, harry took his finger away from your tight hole and quickly sank his teeth into a particularly sensitive spot below your jaw next to your ear, your hips stuttering into his. you didn’t get to have any sort of release because harry dug his nails into the flesh of your sides, leaving behind crescent shapes as he dragged them down. he clawed at you, growling out in unsettling animalistic and creature like way before you felt his cock throb and jump inside you.

you barked out in a demand for him to pull out but venom was quicker, muzzling you like a dog and holding your face flat against the hard floor.

you felt hot blood ooze out of your nose, down your upper lip and straight onto the cement- while harry jerked and slammed his pelvis into your asscheeks, giving a rather weak thrust before letting out a deep moan, one of his hands removing itself from your side to smack on your lower back and hold you down.

yet during his sloppy orgasm- you felt heavy and burning ropes of semen pour out and splatter your insides. it wouldn’t fucking stop either, it just kept coming, pumping itself more and more until it formed a white ring around the base of his cock and stuck to your pussy lips, falling and collecting all over your thighs and pittering quietly onto the floor below you both.

now with your face laying in a tiny puddle of red, harry lifted your head up by the hair at the nape of your neck. it didn’t sting, everything felt numb and tingly.

he brought his hand up to wipe your mouth and cheek, black inkiness crawling up his neck and face before consuming him yet again. you really needed peter to find you.

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