#Feels good to be writing again but I must make BETTER and MORE

[tswwwit]

I had a dumb idea based on this ask, and then I wrote it!

Short Reincarnation thing where Bill gets his stupid body killed before meeting Dipper, and years later DIpper stumbles across him anyway.

When Dipper sees the faint golden glow in the distance, he staggers up to his feet.

Finally, after endless gray and black and white. After aimless wandering, with nobody to see or hear, nobody to call - 

There’s a light.

Dipper walks towards the light slowly. Cautiously. Then faster. Soon he’s running, eager to see what’s in front of him for the first time in the last probably-four-hours.

Who cares what’s ahead of him? It’s different from everything else around; it has color.

Maybe it’s a way out of here.

He never should have gone to Gravity Falls. Not even with his semi-new confidence with his still-new magic, hoping he would find answers, not even to look for The Thing. Leaving Seattle to explore the infamously magical, dangerous, and nearly impenetrable woods here has to be the dumbest idea he’s ever had.

The glow in the clearing stays steady as he approaches, a steady unflickering light. A beacon. 

Dipper stumbles into the patch of grass between the trees. Nearly trips, before he stands still, chest heaving.

What is it? He doesn’t see anything around. There’s a fallen log, and plants, an old shove leaning against a nearby tree, and. 

There. 

The bright gold light is coming from the ground. 

Dipper takes a few, slow steps closer. Arching his neck, leaning into see what might be emitting that light, in the patch of soft bare ground underneath the grass. There’s - 

A triangle. 

Dipper frowns at it.

 Whatever happened to send him into weird gray not-time, it was obviously magic, These woods are magic, this entire thing is because of magic. Obviously this thing is magic, too. 

That can’t be great. 

But while Dipper doesn’t know what this thing is, it’s the only thing around that’s not monochrome besides himself. That has to be a sign. Good or bad, he’s not sure.

He crouches down nearby. Not getting too close, yet. 

Yeah. Definitely super magical. This close, it’s a bright light even in Dipper’s magical senses, and he’s pretty shit at those even for an amateur. 

The object’s made of… gold? Maybe. At least it looks metallic now that he’s close enough to get an idea of the texture. Larger than Dipper thought at first glance, but small enough to theoretically pick up if he dared. And for some reason there’s a miniature top hat rolled off to the side, which is like. What. 

Also, it’s chained to the ground. 

A very thick yellow metal chain - gold again? Maybe - that’s linked to one of the corners. It’s long enough to meander around the clearing and pile in a neat coil near the fallen log, then back to the center before abruptly delving into the soil.

Hesitantly, Dipper edges a little closer. Nothing happens. 

He waves a hand, and gives it a vague magical poke. Looking for movement, or like, big flashy stuff, or a reaction.

Nothing.

Okay. Big magic inside, but not reactive. Possibly inert. Dipper’s filing that under ‘good’ in terms of signs, but he’s ready to revise at a moment’s notice. 

Since the triangle isn’t doing anything, it’s up to Dipper to take action. Fumbling at his side, he keeps his eye on the shape. Just in case it - he doesn’t know, explodes or catches fire or something. 

Dipper finds what he’s searching for, and grips it tight. Nodding, once.

When in doubt, poke it with a stick.

He pokes it. 

In a flash, the shape leaps from the ground, opens one huge, slit-pupiled eye and gets right in his face with a huge noise that Dipper will later remember is ‘BLARG’. 

Despite himself, Dipper screams. The thing screams back at him, thin black arms flailing wildly, inches away. Dipper screams even louder, making a failed leap backward to hit the ground on his butt.

“AHHHH - HA! Ah ha ha ha ha!” The yelling devolves into wild, delighted laughter. The triangle crosses an arm over its front as it cackles, smacking a hand against one of its legs. “Whoo! Oh man! You shoulda seen the look on your face!”

Dipper stares. His heart is pounding, he’s trying to catch his breath. He lets go of his shirt, patting vaguely on the ground for the stick. 

“You were all like ‘Aaaugh’!’” The triangle flails dramatically again, then starts laughing harder. It  wipes under its eye. It looks, as much as any shape can, both totally thrilled and completely unrepentant. “Totally worth it.”

“You asshole.” Dipper sits up, trying to calm down. Unfortunately he truly has lost track of the stick, because he wants to throw something at this jerk.

“Ah, c’mon! You made that way too easy.” The triangle shrugs, lifting up two hands. It flaps a hand in Dipper’s direction. “Some guy all alone in the woods? No backup? No idea what he’s doing?” Its lower eyelid turns up. “You’re a tempting little opportunity, kid!”

Dipper says nothing. He simply glares, and flips it off.

And okay, that is a point, if you look at the situation in a totally twisted way. Dipper is kind of stranded and ignorant and - 

Wait, shit, he is.all of those things, and if this kind of thing is around, then what else is. 

Dipper pushes himself to his feet, and glances around quickly - but, no. Besides the jerk in front of him, nothing’s changed. Nobody and nothing around. Still very… still.

There’s a tap on his shoulder and he jumps - 

But it’s the jerk. Again. One noodly arm extending unnaturally, just to bother Dipper with a poke or two.

“Easy, sapling, there’s nobody here but us.” It says, tugging Dipper closer with one hand, and flapping the other in a semi-reassuring way.. “You can tone down the jumpiness for the moment! Believe it or not, I ain’t got any plans to hurt ya.”

Dipper shrugs, still examining the woods. It’s as silent and unmoving as always, so. Maybe they are alone here. One point in that thing’s favor. 

For lack of anything to say, Dipper flips it off for a second time.  It starts laughing again, clasping its surface.

Weirdly enough, Dipper kind of does believe it. That it doesn’t want to hurt him. Hell knows It had the jump on him, he had no defenses and didn’t expect anything to defend against. And it used that to be annoying, instead of harmful.

He looks it over anyway, still skeptical. It waves back, looking oddly cheerful and glowing slightly brighter.

Alright. No creature Dipper knows about fits this description. There’s magic, sure, but he doesn’t have enough experience to get a gist of it there. All he can tell is that it feels a lot more powerful than it looks, and that makes him vaguely uneasy.

Since he can’t get a read on it, and doesn’t know what to do with it - 

Fuck it. Dipper just asks. “What are you?”

“Usually it’s ‘who’, not ‘what’, kid.  Way to make a guy feel appreciated.” It - he - chides, sounding annoyed. One  of this creature’s arms goes down in a curve to grab the hat on the ground, setting it on his top point. “But since you insist, I’m the local demon in these parts.”

Demon. Great. 

And an even greater sign for where Dipper somehow ended up, if this is the type of creature he’s running into.

Where the hell is he, anyway? How the hell did he get here. What does he do with this thing? And most importantly -  

How quickly can he get the fuck out. 

“What, chupacabra got your tongue? Introductions are in order!” The demon shoves his other arm at Dipper, palm up. Like he’s offering a handshake. “Name’s Bill.”

Dipper nearly shakes its hand - the first stupid move - and nearly speaks his own name, then stops. Glaring at this creature with suspicion. 

Which is when the rest of the information hits home like an arrow. 

Dipper drops his arms, holding them stiff at his sides. “Wait. Bill, like. Bill Cipher?”  He shrinks back in alarm. 

“Wow. Really?” ‘Bill’ says, looking grumpy now. “Now that’s rich. I don’t go around assuming every human named ‘John’ is the same guy, now do I?” He floats away a bit, slightly turned to the side. Eyeing Dipper with clear disapproval. “Real classy of ya, kid.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Dipper grimaces. He pats the air a bit, awkward. Bill turns slightly back towards him. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He guesses that was a bit dumb, anyway. Bill Cipher has a totally different MO. 

That guy’s powerful demon who can wander around reality. Arson and murder and mayhem are his favorite hobbies. He travels around wearing a handsome human form, adding chaos to the life of whichever mortal he’s picked that time around, with terrible delight.

Not exactly the same level as this Bill, who’s stuck in the middle of nowhere, pulling prank-level jumpscares. 

If a demon like Cipher could be chained up in some weird gray pocket dimension, one of his mortals would have done it ages ago.

“Hey, no biggie!” Bill brightens up, facing Dipper again. He must not have taken the assumption too harshly; he almost looks pleased. “Not a bad guy to be compared to, all things considered.”

Dipper can’t help but make a mental note. Kind of interesting, that Cipher’s well known even outside of reality. That being compared to him is flattering, too, he didn’t expect that. Aren’t there books about this sort of thing? Dipper kind of wishes he’d studied more about demons, even though he never thought he’d need to - 

But this isn’t the time to get sidetracked. No matter how interesting it is.

“Uh, I’m Dipper.” He gives Bill a little wave, instead of taking the again-offered hand to shake. He knows better. Bill drops his hand, thwarted for the moment. “It’s. Interesting to see you.”

Which is true. In that Dipper, finally, has met another… ‘person’ in the place he’s ended up, and that means…

Time to get information.

“Where am I?”

“First time visiting, huh?” Bill floats over, the chain making a strange tinkling sound as it drags behind him. He slings an arm over Dipper’s shoulder in a companionable way, and Dipper tenses. “Lemme introduce you!

“Welcome to the liminal space between dreams and waking! The infinite realm of thought! The Nightmare Realm - or Mindscape, if ya like.” Bill waves over the woods in a broad gesture - then sighs, letting his arm drop. “Though since we’re in the extra liminal bit near your place, it’s not nearly as fun.”

That… makes precisely zero sense. Dipper waits, but Bill’s started glaring at their surroundings instead. Hardly helpful.

Dipper tries to squirm out from under his arm, but it’s oddly difficult to shake off. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It means we’re stuck in the outskirts, kid. The blendy-in part! Specifically the bit where it’s real solid, cause it’s closest to your usual digs.” Bill flaps a hand over the monochrome scenery, looking annoyed at the scene. “The reality-adjacent burnt edge of pie crust, instead of the golden-brown, juicy, gory middle. Not the best part by miles..”

One bit of information, then. Dipper’s not quite in a different realm, or outside of reality. No, that would be too simple. 

Instead, he’s wound up in the spot where reality bleeds into another dimension. Where things aren’t one place or another, not one thing or another, and there’s probably a lot of magical theory that has a ton to explain all of it, except he hasn’t finished reading those books.

In theory, Dipper would take his time, and try to figure it out. Piece together the bits he’s learned. Maybe even ask Bill for input, since he seems to know about all of this stuff - 

In practice, he keeps running over the words Bill used earlier. 

‘We’re,’ Bill said. Including himself in the previous term, even though he’s an actual, literal demon.

And, ‘Stuck’. Bill said.

“So….” Dipper lets the word trail for a while, palms sweating. He rubs them on his jeans, trying for a smile. “Is there a way out of these… edges?”

“Unless you’re an advanced expert in interdimensional dynamics? Probably not!” Bill shrugs, sounding cheerful despite the horrible news he imparts, or maybe because of it. “Hope you enjoy silence and stillness, Pine Tree.” He pats his surface, eye shut with pride. “But if ya don’t, you’re welcome to hang with yours truly!”

Two horrible options. Dipper stares at Bill for a long moment, not sure what to say. 

He’s not an expert, not at all. He has magic, a lot, apparently, but he barely knows what he’s doing with it, doesn’t know how he has it, and mostly it just makes stuff explode. He can barely light a candle without consequences, much less escape the borderlands of a realm of freakin’ thought.

“Oh,” He says instead. All the air seems like it’s come out of his lungs. “Have a seat, kid.” Bill darts over towards the log, gesturing Dipper closer. He pats the wood invitingly. “After all, misery loves company!”

Feeling numb, Dipper walks over. He turns around, and sits down. 

After a moment, he rests his face in his hands. 

“So! I already know you’re not from around Gravity Falls,” Bill says, floating a few inches over the log and right next to Dipper. Patting thigh, which would almost be reassuring except for everything, ever, and the way he gives it a weird squeeze. “I woulda seen it!”

“Yeah.” Dipper glances over, briefly. Then looks forward again.. 

“Boy, you’re turning out to be a great conversationalist! How lucky for me.” Bill says, very dry. He throws his arms in the air. “Figures. You’d have to be brain-damaged to wander these woods for no reason.”

“I had a reason,” Dipper protests. One he didn’t understand, sure. But he had one.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“I just - I had to.” Dipper folds his arms, looking away. Somehow it makes even less sense when he says it out loud.

Bill shrugs, and says nothing. For a while, actually. Dipper does the same, mouth shut.

Maybe Bill’s planning something, or maybe he’s hoping to hear about Dipper’s vulnerabilities - but Dipper wasn’t born yesterday. He might not have had magic until a  few years ago, but he’s still not an idiot.  He’s not blabbing about his life to a demon of all creatures - 

For about five seconds. 

He can’t help it. The silence feels so deeply wrong that he has to break it. “I don’t know. I just felt-” 

Like he was being drawn here. Like there was an invisible thread, tugging gently at him until he couldn’t ignore it. Whispering, in quiet words, that he might find what he wanted.

A subtle, but effective temptation. Dipper did the stupid thing. He came here on that idiotic whim, and now look what’s happened. 

Maybe he should have known better. But.

For the longest time, Dipper has felt like something’s missing. Nothing he could ever really explain, or make sense of. When he lets himself think about it, which is rarely, it’s The Thing; a feeling so vague he can’t even put a name to it. 

All he knows is that something’s gone and it sucks. Like a piece is missing in his own personal puzzle, maybe dropped off the table or skimmed across the floor, and now he can’t find the stupid thing for the life of him. Doubly infuriating because it was the one last piece he needed, right before it went and fucked off.

When he got his magic, that helped with The Thing, a little. When he started actively looking for The Thing, that helped, too. 

But he still doesn’t know what it is, much less where it is, and he might never find the answer.

Not that he’s telling Bill any of that.  

“I had an impulse, and a stupid idea.” Dipper shrugs. “You know how it is.” Hopefully he does. If not, Bill will find out how annoying getting no explanation is.

“Bet you have a lot of those.” Bill says, amused. He stalks over the log, prodding Dipper in the side. “Probably famous for it!”

“Shut up.” Now Dipper flicks Bill on the side, annoyed. He’s not the only one included in that terrible adjective.  “What about you? What brought you here?”

“None of your beeswax.” Bill sets his fists on his edges, looking proud. “I’m doing exactly what I wanna be doing.”

Dipper casts a long, deliberate glance over the chain, and raises an eyebrow. Bill glares at him.

“Yeah, yeah, things could be a little more lively, whatever.” Another dismissive wave. Bill hops from the log onto Dipper’s leg, and drops down with a surprisingly heavy feel. He shrugs. “But hey, you’re gonna be with me for the foreseeable future! I can work with that.”

So Bill is trapped. He’s come as close to admitting it as Dipper’s likely to get. 

On an impulse, he pats Bill on his weird, metal back. If it’s a back; Dipper’s guessing because it’s the surface that doesn’t have his eye on it. Bill makes a pleased sound, so it must not be too weird.

“I’m guessing your whole deal is, what, mystery hunting? You don’t seem the monster hunter type.” Bill prods his arm, squeezing his bicep with a narrowed eye. “Or hey! Maybe you were just dumb enough to poke around for no reason!” Oh for - Dipper just said he had one. Bill knows that, he’s just being a dick. “I’m not dumb.” He sits up a little straighter, jabbing a thumb at his chest. Lifting his chin in defiance. “At least I’ve never been chained up.”

“Ah, a real vanilla guy.” Bill rubs under his eye thoughtfully. Dipper feels his face warm with embarrassment, waving his hands. That’s not what he meant - and Bill brightens up.. “Guess ‘adventurous’ only goes so far, huh?”

Dipper splutters, not sure how to respond. Bill waggles his upper eyelid, nudging him in the side - and Dipper can’t not respond to this asshole.

Unfortunately, Bill’s ready with a retort for every protest. Dipper can’t let that lie, so he has to accuse him of his own stupidity back, and forth, and back again.

They actually keep at it, for… longer than Dipper expected. More easily than expected.

He kind of thought that being trapped here, trying to keep up conversation with Bill, would trail off into awkward silence more often than not. Dipper’s never been great with small talk, he has to plan, like, half of his conversations in his head before they happen. 

Turns out it’s hard to feel awkward when you really want to make the other guy shut up first.

Bill’s still a jerk, sure. Dipper's known that from moment one. He starts arguments without a purpose, delighting himself with stupid puns, and it turns out he finds it hard to resist a double entendre. That’s a weak point; Dipper can use it. He has to think on his feet to keep up with him, there’s no time to get mired down. 

It’s all pointless, stupid bickering. Bill prodding at him, Dipper responding and prodding back. Bill’s pretty cagey; Dipper doesn’t get much from him.

Bill, though. Gets a lot. Probably more than he wanted, because Dipper finds once he starts talking about some things, he has a lot more to say about them than he thought.

He’s not sure why he’s doing it. Or how he started. He knows Bill hasn’t used magic on him, he can feel that much, it’s just….

Bill keeps asking pointed questions, so he’s asking for it. Dipper hasn’t been able to talk about some of this before, and Bill’s a literally captive audience. Possibly because Bill couldn’t tell anyone else Dipper knows, and partly… because he’s a terrible listener, which kind of helps. Like it doesn’t matter what Dipper says, because Bill won’t care enough to use it against him.

“Not to mention going through magical puberty, like a decade too late.” Dipper finishes, after going over a long, long list of complaints. About his shitty life. About how much things suck. He waves over the air for emphasis. Bill, sitting on his thigh, leans back so his hat isn’t knocked off. “Do you know what that’s like?”

“Likely hilarious! But so what?” Bill sits back up, kicking his legs idly. Which also means he’s lightly kicking Dipper’s other leg. “What’s wrong with more power?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue. Then stops. 

It makes sense that a demon wouldn’t get it, due to, well. Being a demon. They’re all power hungry. To Bill, this could only seem like a good thing. He wouldn’t understand how-

“More power means solving some problems, alright.” Dipper changes tactics, rubbing at his eyes. There’s a headache coming on, he can feel it. “But now I have different problems. Bigger ones.”

“Aha! Inexperience.” Bill brightens up a bit more, waving off the rest of Dipper’s concerns. “Easy, kid, that’s all temporary. Once you get used to blasting things to pieces, you’d be amazed how many problems are flammable!”

Dipper feels his mouth draw into a thin line. He doesn’t know what he expected. 

He drops back onto the log, resting his chin in his hand. Bill pats his lower back, and starts rambling on about optimal targeting techniques, but Dipper’s not paying attention.

Different experiences, and different problems. He’s in a different place, which has totally eclipsed the Thing problem. Bill’s here too, but he doesn’t seem like the major issue.

The big one, right now, is going home, and how the hell Dipper’s going to do that.

“There has to be a way out of here.”. He’s not going to give up. Not now.

“Well,” Bill draws out the word, slow and with a detectable hint of smugness. “There might be one way to get your butt back to reality.”

Dipper tenses up. 

Right. He should have seen this coming, because Bill’s a demon. He hadn’t forgotten that fact, but he’d put it out of the front of his mind. 

“I see where this is going.” Dipper folds his arms, and gives Bill an unimpressed look. “Let me guess. You’re an expert in interdimensional dynamics.” 

“Never said I wasn’t!” Bill’s lower eyelid is raised in amusement. “To tell the truth, sapling, I’m one of the best in the biz.” He throws in a wink, even with one eye. “You really lucked out meeting me.”

Another thing Dipper should have expected. Bill might be stuck, but he never said the why, only implied it. The chain should have been a clue. A demon would know how to handle dimensions, too, since they can be summoned and dismissed. And trapped.

Demons are also notorious for another thing. Dipper’s not looking forward to it.

Escape isn’t going to come without a cost.

“What do you want,” He says, flat. 

“Make a deal with me!” Bill floats up and in front of Dipper, arms spread invitingly. “I’ll show you how to get out of here in seconds, no problem.”

“What’s the cost.” Dipper remains stern. Glaring, now. Bill hasn’t gotten to it yet, but there’s going to be a catch. 

“Yeesh, way to rush things.” Bill wags a finger, almost chiding. “A jaunt back home can’t be all you want! Think about what you’d really want out of life. ‘Cause I’ve got more magic to work with than you could comprehend!”

Bill waves his arm, and this time - 

Okay. Dipper has to admit it’s impressive.

Wherever Bill gestures, a small scene plays out, like a movie. Bright and colorful, standing out against the bland background. 

“You could ask for fame!” A brief shot of Dipper, being lauded by a crowd. Bill snaps his fingers. “For riches!” Piles of gold tumble around fake-Dipper’s feet, burying him to the ankles -  another snap. “Or hell, even True Love!” 

And a shadowy figure sneaks up on fake-Dipper, then seizes him by the waist, lifting him up. Fake-Dipper looks surprised, then annoyed. He struggles, kicking out helplessly, right before he’s dragged off into nothingness.

Dipper stares at the lingering void left until the ‘screen’ vanishes. Then, incredulously, at Bill.

Bill pops up in front of him again, fists set on his sides with pride. “Name it, kid, and it’s on offer. I could get you all that crap that humans like and more!” 

“I’ll pass.” Dipper flips Bill off, much to his amusement. 

“What, too intimidating?” Bill leans in, nudging Dipper with an elbow-adjacent bend of his arm. “Be reasonable, Pine Tree. You’re gonna make a deal anyway. Why not get something cool while you’re at it?”

Okay, fair point. If Dipper’s risking his soul, he might as well get something else while he’s at it. 

But it’s also dangerous. Bill’s going to cheat, and lie, and according to what he showed Dipper has a totally different view of what’s actually appealing to humans. Making this deal too complicated could only end poorly. 

Everything he’s offering probably comes with a catch, anyway. Fame would probably be for, like, accidentally exploding a building, money from a murder or whatever. Bill’s idea of ‘love’ is just. Yeah, Dipper’s going to pass. And even if there weren’t a huge pitfall waiting for him - Bill certainly couldn’t give Dipper what he’s really looking for, especially when even Dipper’s not sure what it is.  

For a moment, then, Dipper lingers on the image of his shitty apartment. How cold it’s going to be when fall turns into winter, and how his car is starting to make unnerving sounds when -

He shakes his head to clear it.

“Just get me out of here.”

Bill groans, clearly disappointed. “Yeah yeah, stubbornness. But ya gotta sweeten the deal for me, too.” He rubs his fingers together, eye narrowed. “Make it worth my while.”

Of freaking course there’s a minimum buy-in. Dipper groans, rubbing at his eyes. If he has to add onto this - 

“Alright, fine.” He throws his hands in the air.. “Like, enough gas money to get home.” That shouldn’t cost too much. Hopefully.

Bill remains undeterred. He narrows his eye, skeptical. “That’s it? I get skipping over the ‘fame’ one, alright, that can be a pain. When everyone knows who you are, they get all up in your business! But you’re not gonna ask for any affection?” He blinks for a moment, spreading his hands and somewhat incredulous himself. “‘Cause I got-”

“Some really bad ideas.” Dipper says. Bill looks miffed, crossing his arms over his golden front. “Are we doing this deal or not?”

“Hmph. You got no idea what you’re missing out on.” Bill sniffs, which is weird because he doesn’t have a nose -  “Fine, we’ll do it your way. Spoilsport.”

Dipper straightens up, feeling a sudden burst of pride. Bill’s bothered, which means Dipper avoided a trap. He’s in a little less danger. 

“Now, about getting you back to reality. That’s some tricky business there, but I got ideas.” Bill taps under his eye, thoughtful. He stares off into space, pupil changing shape and size, flickering for a moment before it snaps back to ‘normal’. “You’re gonna need a life spell.”

“What?”

Dipper’s experience is pretty limited, in that he’s only had magic for a few years, but he’s not stupid. To change back dimensions, and get home, life magic doesn’t fit. All it deals with is flesh and blood and a bit with spirit, but that can’t apply here. He thinks..

“What do you mean, what? Who’s the expert here, anyway?” Brightening up, Bill swings an arm around DIpper’s shoulder again, half-guiding and half-dragging him into the middle of the clearing. “You got the magic for it, you got the talent for it. You lack the education for it, but I can walk you through the basics, and we can cram everything into the same spell! One and done, easy.”

“That’s… convenient.” And concerning. Dipper stares at the bare earth under his feet, shifting under Bill’s arm. “So how do I-”

“Ahem.” Bill clears his nonexistent throat, tapping a fist against his surface. He gives Dipper a meaningful look, though what it’s trying to convey is impossible to parse.

Dipper glares at him. Another catch, probably. “What now.”

“You called it earlier, kid! Before we start rifling through the guts of it,” Bill drifts closer, until his eye is right up near Dipper’s face. He pokes him on the cheek with amusement. “We gotta discuss my price.”

Right. There was always going to be one, wasn’t there. 

Dealing with a demon. The stupidest thing possible. 

“How much?” Dipper asks, voice flat. Adding, before Bill can speak up - “I don’t really have much, uh. To me.”

It won’t be cash. Even inexperienced, Dipper knows that much. Whatever Bill asks for, Dipper’s soul’s not going to be on the table; he’d rather be trapped than do that. Maybe Bill will request a demonic thing, but Dipper doesn’t have any connections to other magical beings, any cool relics, or any secret knowledge. 

He really hopes this isn’t going to be painful, or traumatic. Or anything physical, for that matter. Dying in the process of escaping kind of defeats the point.

“Hm. Lemme think.” Bill hums for a moment, eye narrowed. “One spell, complete with escape from the realm you accidentally stumbled your ignorant ass into, and one dose of obscene wealth-” Dipper clears his throat, loud. “Alright, minor wealth, loser. That should run ya…”

Dipper stuffs his hands in his pockets, waiting with growing unease. Bill’s rubbing under his eye in thought, like he’s trying to see how much he can gouge Dipper for. Hopefully it’s not flesh. 

Then Bill stops, and holds up a finger. “One kiss. Seems fair to me!”

Dipper stares at this… thing for a moment. “What.”

Bill glows brighter, seemingly pleased with himself. “Pretty great deal, am I right?” 

“Very funny.” Dipper gives him a derisive look. “What do you actually want?”

“A kiss, kid. With tongue.” Bill says, very seriously. He shuts his eye and wags a finger in the air.. “We’re talking a real tonsil-tickler here, none of that chaste peck crap.”

“With who?” Dipper has a dreadful suspicion. Which isn’t helped by the way Bill gleefully points two thumbs at himself. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious, sapling.” Bill spreads his arms wide, lower eyelid rises in a simulacrum of a smile. “One frenching for one freedom. You couldn’t find a better bargain even if you did have options!”

The worst part is that’s probably right. What Bill’s asking for sounds like it’s the cheapest thing on offer. Most demons would put the price point so much higher - flesh, souls, family, mass slaughter - that it wouldn’t be worth considering. 

Dipper can’t believe he’s considering this.

“And it’s not going to like, burn my mouth with acid, or suck out all my organs, or-”

“Boy, are you paranoid. Typical,” Bill says, sounding exasperated. He rolls his eye in its socket, around and around, before settling back on Dipper. “You can’t kiss back if you pass away, kid! I want active participation, and you’re only up for some lip action right now.”

Dipper remains skeptical. He leans back a bit, making a face.

But the request’s bizarre enough to feel honest, and technically it’s better than the other things Dipper was imagining. All in all, a quick kiss actually does seem like a bargain.

Which means Dipper shouldn’t trust it one bit.

Thinking about it, Bill’s been stuck here, for who knows how long, without access to much. No hanging out with other demons, no manipulating humans. Lacking anyone to talk to, or -  have other mouth actions with, or anything. He’s not operating on standard demon motivations. Likely this has a different angle. Something else he can use to exploit.

Why would Bill want this?

Dipper looks him up and down slowly, lips drawn tight. Trying to figure him out.

Bill clearly takes his attention as interest, because he straightens his hat, and adjusts his tie with obvious pride. He wipes at his surface, hums a little tune, and there’s a squeaking sound as he rubs a wrist against his side. Like he’s polishing it.

Or…. maybe  it’s a bargain because Bill actually wants to make out. The primping can’t be anything but alarmingly sincere.

“Okay.” Dipper gives in, and lets his shoulders drop. Being trapped has obviously tanked Bill’s standards - or his uses for pounds of flesh. Either way, it’s worked out in his favor.  “Let’s do this.”

“Glad to hear it!” Bill floats closer, cupping Dipper’s face in his weird hands. They're oddly soft for a guy who’s mostly made of metal. “Now pucker up, buttercup, and we’ll seal the deal.”

“Don’t call me that,” Dipper says. Bill squishes his cheeks a few times, until Dipper smacks his front.

“Eh, I got other nicknames to use,” Bill says, and draws Dipper in.

Dipper shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want to see this. Whatever’s about to touch his face, it’s probably terrifying. 

For a moment he’s tempted to call it off, but then Bill will protest and maybe cut the deal off, leaving him right back at square one and with less bargaining power. Too late to back out.

Sterning himself, Dipper lets it happen.

There’s… a mouth? Against his mouth. Something, anyway, and it’s not soft but not sharp or stinging, and for the moment his face isn’t melting off. Dipper can work with that. 

There’s a tug on his shirt, and Bill makes an insistent ‘mmh!’. Right, he has to participate. Damn it. 

Kissing Bill back isn’t hard, if he pretends he’s not holding onto the edges of a demonic shape. And forgets the fact that he’s buying his freedom with a makeout session. When a few seconds pass and Dipper hasn’t exploded or turned into a monster, he even manages to relax. 

Yeah. He can get through this. It’s not too bad. Honestly, Bill’s handling this pretty well, all things considered. It’s not slimy or sloppy, or particularly rough.Their teeth haven’t clicked together once, if Bill even has any -  and he doesn’t smell bad. Or like anything, really. 

So, surprisingly, it’s not the worst kiss Dipper’s ever had. Bill, apparently, has some experience in this area. That raises so many questions.

Something wet flickers against his lips, and very reluctantly, Dipper lets them part. This could be - 

 Huh. Bill tastes like…. basil? Of all the things Dipper was expecting, that wasn’t even on the list. And while he’s made of metal and sharp corners, he’s warm, too, and his hand cupping the back of Dipper’s neck runs up and down in a way that’s almost. Nice. Tonsils remain uninvolved, too. If Bill’s forgotten that part, then Dipper’s not going to bring it up.

He’s not sure how long they spend like that, because - well, after a while it’s kind of interesting? That Bill can do this at all. That needs investigating. If Dipper needs to take a weird route to study it, well, that’s acceptable losses. He can deal.

Until there’s a slow slide up his thigh, and a hand squeezes Dipper’s butt.

Dipper shoves this jerk away, grimacing. That wasn’t part of the deal. “Hey! Hands off.”

“What hands? They’re right here!” Bill blinks innocently, and offers them up for Dipper’s inspection.

Now that’s just bullshit. DIpper reaches behind himself, seizes the offending limb, and shoves it right at Bill’s surface. “What about this?”

“Oh wow, what a surprise!” While Bill’s third arm gives Dipper a jaunty wave, he shrugs with the other two. A fourth one pops out and smacks against his edge in mock surprise.  “Where’d that come from?”

Yep. Still, absolutely, one hundred percent asshole. He doesn’t know what he expected.

Dipper flips him off. Again. He wishes he knew more obscene gestures, because this one just makes Bill laugh. 

“I’ll call that a deal fulfilled, sapling. Very nice, by the way! You really went for it!” Bill’s glowing bright, unperturbed. Glossing over the fact that he’s been caught being a pervert. “Even I can’t claim you didn’t pay up.”

Dipper wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and shrugs. “Just show me the spell.”

“Aw, but it was a fun time, am I right?” Bill tickles Dipper under the chin, lower eyelid raised. He gives Dipper double finger guns, beaming.. ”Next one’s on the house.” 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. Honestly. It’s a good reminder. 

If it weren’t for Bill’s sheer dickishness, he might have said something nearly positive, and that would have been a huge mistake. 

A deal, done. A payment, made. 

Now, to actually get Dipper’s portion. 

Though it takes some arguing. Or rather, a lot of arguing, and a relative armload of innuendoes, only half of which make sense - Dipper, eventually, steers Bill back onto the right track. 

Turns out the trick is questioning whether or not he can actually do it. Questioning Bill’s competence, or knowledge, lights a fire under his nonexistent ass. 

Pride, Dipper notes, is a weak point for Bill. Though he’s not likely to ever need it again, it’s still nice to know.

Bill’s also surprisingly okay to work with. Kind of like the kiss, Dipper expected it to be painful, but Bill actually, amazingly, knows what he’s doing. Albeit without making Dipper have questions he’s not sure he wants the answers to. 

Bill projects an outline of the circle that needs to be drawn, Dipper can easily trace it. His knowledge truly is deep, too; Bill has an encyclopedic knowledge of sigils and runes, and only minorly goes on tangents about destructive and chaotic energy. 

And, though it sucks to admit - he was right again. 

The spell Dipper needs to cast truly is simple. At least on Dipper’s end. All he needs to do is power the thing, and channel it with some theory that Bill described in gory yet helpful terms. 

But the spell *is* life magic. Magic’s not enough; it needs a little more, as Bill put it, ‘oomph’ to get it going.

Dipper flicks the pocketknife open, ready to draw it across his palm. He steadies himself with a deep breath.

Blood is connected to it, magically. A few drops is all it should take. Then it’s over. He’ll be done here.

He’ll get to go home.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bill grabs Dipper’s wrist before he makes the cut. “Piss poor placing, kid. You want the back of the arm or a leg or something.” He wags a chiding finger. “More blood, and more convenient if you wanna grab anything later.”

Dipper honestly hadn’t thought of that. In movies and stuff, everyone goes for - but. Yeah. 

Yet again, Bill’s been oddly helpful. 

In fact, this entire time he’s been oddly, annoyingly helpful. When Dipper was stuck. When he wanted to complain, and the deal really could have been worse. Maybe it’s only because Bill’s been bored, and he doesn’t have anyone else to mess with. Or because he kind of thinks Dipper’s… worth kissing. 

In any case. It’s the sort of thing he should probably mention.

“Uh. Thanks.” Dipper says, feeling awkward. “You’ve been kind of cool. For a demon.”

“Ha! Now that’s rare!” Bill drifts upwards, fists on his edges. He looks supremely amused. “Glad you spoke up, sapling.” Somehow, he winks with only one eye. “I won’t ever let you forget it.”

Back to ominous, then. Dipper’s going to try and ignore it

“Okay, well. See you… hopefully never again.” He states, and draws the knife over the back of his arm. Just a nick, but enough to draw a few drops.

As Bill starts laughing, Dipper shuts his eyes for a second time, kneeling on the ground, and muttering the chant. He’s already memorized it, no need to listen to Bill anymore. 

Goodbye, demon, goodbye, awful grey realm - 

He draws on the magic, that deep and infinite pool inside him, and pushes.

There’s a strange, clinking sound. A rush of magic out of him,more than he’s used before, it almost leaves him dizzy, and the spell itself clicks into place, complete.

That’s it. He’s done. He’s - 

Dipper looks up.

Everything’s still monochrome, so. That’s not good. 

He gets to his feet slowly, checking - but no, no change. Still stuck, in this impossible liminal realm. 

With a start, he realizes that nothing’s glowing in the clearing, either.

Dipper looks around, suddenly alert, but he doesn’t hear anything. Not a laugh, or a mocking comment. No matter how he looks, there’s no chain. No gold. No freaking Bill around, completely vanished from sight - 

“That son of a bitch.” Dipper clenches his fists at his sides. 

Goddamn it, he should have realized. That entire thing was incredibly, recklessly stupid. It was a trick, Bill’s been freed - and Dipper’s still trapped. 

But you know what? Fuck Bill. Dipper doesn’t need him. 

He’s smart. He got here to begin with, and he didn’t need some asshole to help him with that; he can get out as well. He’s going to figure this out, learn a hell a lot more about demons, get really great at magic, and - and all sorts of other things, too, all out of sheer spite. He’s going to get out of here-

As he clenches his fists, jaw tightening, color washes over the scene.

Dipper blinks again. Then waves his arms, suddenly confused.

That was fast. Almost as fast as thought. 

There’s a breeze on his skin, the smell of the forest in the air. The sky is less dark, though it’s nearly sunset. Dipper spends a long tense minute, watching the sun relative to the horizon, tension tight in his chest. Feeling a huge shudder of relief, as it does, in fact, move. Time’s moving. Time’s normal, and the world is normal, and real.

The spell did work. On a delay that Bill never mentioned.

Dipper taps his foot on the loose earth beneath him, folding his arms.

Great. Now he can’t be mad at Bill. He was as good as his word. 

All in all, Dipper could have made a worse deal, if he doesn’t think too hard about Bill and what he might be up to. The trade, such as it was, did end up fair. 

A freedom for a freedom. That’s about as fair as a demon can be, and all for the low, low cost of. Some lip action.

For some reason, Dipper’s still really annoyed. 

If he knew Bill was going to get out too, well. A heads up would have been nice. Not to mention that Bill just went and fucked off somewhere without so much as a ‘see ya’, or a ‘goodbye’, or - 

But it’s good, really. That they won’t meet again. Better for both of them.

Because If they did, Dipper would have to tell him he’s a jerk, and a bastard. Bill seems like he needs that reminder every once in a while. Or every few days. Or hours. 

So again, good that he’s gone; Dipper’d probably lose his voice if he had to be around him too long. Good riddance.

Dipper stands in the clearing for a while, watching the light fade as evening sets in. Alone in the forest again. Safe in reality. 

After a while, it’s starting to get chilly; he wraps an arm over himself, squeezing the opposite bicep. .

It’s been a very long day. 

He takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out.

Then the soft earth shifts under his feet, and something grabs his ankle. 

For the second time in a day, Dipper screams. 

A sudden yank makes Dipper lose his balance, but he catches himself before he hits the ground, braced on his elbows. He swears, pulling his leg away on impulse, kicking at the tight grasp on his leg -

And stares in horror as a dirty yet well-manicured hand pulls him closer, impossibly strong. Dragging him down into the earth it burst out from. A few more urgent kicks gets the thing off him, and Dipper scrambles back.

The hand pats around for him, searching, then pushes against the ground. Bringing out an arm, then a chest, a full head that shakes off the dirt. An eye rolls around in one socket, while the other is missing or covered with dirt, and it wears a wide, rictus grin. With very sharp, very white teeth. 

Dipper struggles to his knees. Sweat is breaking out on his forehead, as whole human man - thing pulls itself out of a shallow grave right in front of him. There’s no time to react; it’s up on its feet before he can gain his own. Too steady, and way too fast for the living dead.

Shit. Life magic, of course.

So It wasn’t a trick after all. It was a trap. 

Dipper not only set BIll free but raised, like, a zombie, or something, to take care of the rest. It’s going to finish him off and leave no evidence but a bloody smear on the grass. He tries to leap back but it's already got him by the shirt in a tight grip, dragging him in.

Okay, no time. Last resort. DIpper hates to do this, but. He tenses up, holding his arms out and reaching for his magic. Pulling on it, hard. 

The fire rages, it lights up the whole clearing as it spreads. Dipper can feel it engulf himself, spread around the clearing, and engulf his assailant - 

To absolutely zero effect. Not even a sizzle, what the hell. 

Dipper spends a moment to be indignant as the creature lifts him up, and up, until his feet don’t even touch the ground. What the hell. He’s always been able to explode stuff, and the one time he actually wanted to, it doesn’t work?

“Trying to heat things up, huh? Nice try, sapling, but it won’t work.” Says the man holding him, sounding delightedly amused. “As a guy once said - I’m extremely cool!”

Dipper snaps his gaze downwards, towards that voice. “That’s not what I-”

He stops. Stares. 

Then glares.

A golden eye winks back at him. Some of the dirt has dried from the fire; now it flakes off in patches, revealing an eyepatch instead of an empty socket, and a suit instead of the yellow of lividity. Dipper’s idly tempted to insult his fashion, before he remembers he still can’t touch the freakin’ ground.

While the other shape didn’t have a literal smile, if you plastered it on a human face it would be a one-to-one match.

“You’re kidding me.” Dipper says. Somehow he’s not surprised.

He gets an eyebrow wiggle, and a brighter smile. The man lifts him up like a carnival prize; his suit really is tacky, Dipper should tell him that. And that his voice is so annoying, and he has a very handsome, very awful face. 

Bill cackles. Clearly thrilled.

“Really? Dipper says. Then, feeling tired. “Oh, come on, Bill. That was a dick move.” He lets his arms drop to his sides.

So obvious, when you think about it. So clear, when you know what’s up. 

There were so many chances to spot it, and Dipper was so dumb.

Bill Cipher, dream demon. Infamous for a lot of things, power and insanity and all of that - but mostly for wandering reality, tied to a mortal. While wearing a human shape. Obviously he has another form, being a demon and all, but it’s not like there are many depictions. Bill Cipher doesn’t stride around Earth without wearing his skin suit.

Well. Guess who just went and made him one. 

Dipper should be more upset. He should be furious. But mostly?

He’s thinking about how he’ll get Bill back for this. 

“What’s with the long face?” Bill Cipher asks, looking absurdly pleased with himself. A huge grin as he bounces Dipper in his grip, sharp teeth bared. “Everything went according to plan!”

“I’m an idiot,” Dipper states, before kicking Bill once. It doesn’t work, but it was mostly a gesture, anyway. “And you’re an asshole.”

“Sure am! But you’re my idiot now, sapling.” Bill says, cheerful as anything. He swings Dipper around, then over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. Throwing in a pat on the back, presumably for insult. “Good to see ya again!”

#Another advancement in my nefarious triangle makeouts agenda #It'll be short I told myself #Probably only 2k I told myself #Why do I ever listen to myself? #Have some ridiculous fic and I hope it entertains #Feels good to be writing again but I must make BETTER and MORE #Time to work on that lamb wolf thing; it was almost done before I went on a tear writing this silly thing #I'd say Dipper's somewhere between twenty two and twenty five here #Bill's been SO BORED for YEARS #Of course he took the opportunity to mess with his husband #And it worked out Beautifully

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

#its like okay listen i understand the basic math of any persona game they say things and everything they say is actually #very bad when you think about it for more than 3 seconds #like what theyre intending to do with the death of this character is be like oh no your sad friend dies tragically thats so saddddd #but that doesnt mean you cant live a wonderful life full of meaning you cant let grief consume you life is beautiful awagga #and i guess shinji is a specific character whos used cuz i guess its more tragic that he never realized he was worthy of life and shit #and i guess its also like ‘dont be like this guy who let grief consume him and then died you gotta Be Different’ #which i dont. love. that last part cuz if you think about shinji and what led him down this road #its like. of course hes depressed! he accidentally killed a woman with a child when he was 16! #he himself is an orphan and he just made some other kid an orphan as well and it happened cuz his persona went out of control #which very much can translate to ‘this must mean im dangerous and can hurt everyone if im not kept under control’ #so of course he isolated himself and believed he was evil and became suicidal like who wouldnt feel that way #like am i supposed to be mad he left sees and took drugs cuz uh while i dont think isolation or Evil Drug is good for his mental health #i dont think him continuing to fight in sees is something he can just easily do again given how he killed someone like he shouldnt have to #be a part of this thing anymore like how would he even safely get castor to not do that??? he cant kill more people on accident! #so yeah like using shinji as an example of bad coping mechanisms is already just. a big fucking oof to me like it just feels like the game #is saying he shouldve gotten over it and simply not be suicidal and stayed on the team. idk if thats the intent but uh it wouldnt faze me #cuz persona games are notoriously awful at writing characters who are traumatized and abused #but what makes everything even worse is how the game kinda like. acts like shinjis death is a stepping stone #like we’re supposed to use it as a wake up call and understand the stakes but keep going on anyways #and akihiko and Ken get. ‘great character development’ according to the game telling you they have now developed #but damn all akihiko is is just repressed he cries for 3 seconds and then is like I SHOULD MAN UP and then neglects a depressed child #shinjis dying words are words to live by now even though they piss me the fuck off like girl am i crazy HES FUCKING #HES TELLING ME NOT TO CRY OVER HIM BECAUSE HE SHOULD BE DEAD ACTUALLY AND THIS IS A GOOD THING ACTUALLY #like if the game wants us to still find meaning in life despite losing someone it just really hurts that shinji has to die for that to work #apparently. cuz the character i see myself in is shinji. not some perfect prettyboy who does everything perfectly and has 4 gfs #his death seems like a punishment for bad behavior. the bad behavior being of course depression and drug use. and im simply supposed to be #better than that if i want to live. and we dont get to form a connection with him cuz thats gayyyyy #and his death is like a NOBLE HEROIC SACRIFICE idk its just such bullshit to me i hate it so bad #how is killing a suicidal guy and then treating it as admirable that he said ‘this is how it should be’ supposed to make me feel #makes me feel sick personally and it ruins the entire game’s theme to me because its fucking shallow and the story is bad and im tired

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader

[silken-moonlight]

Part 4 of your werwolf best friend (Final Part)

A/N: This will be the last part of this short story! I am so glad for everyone who has loved it so far. I hope you enjoy the ending as well! (I am not used to writing happy endings, so I hope this is good.)

Also, a quick question for my next WIP... Do you guys enjoy the "You" in a story more, or would you prefer both characters to be named?

But now, back to the story!

Moon/Swan

______________

The two of you stayed connected because of the knot for a while. From time to time he moved his hips as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was racing. Suddenly realizing that your best friend just had cum inside of you. While the panic began to settle inside of you, he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Holding you as close as he could anbd placing lazy but tender kisses on your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, what if you'd become pregnant? What if you caught feelings…? Well too late for that, you already felt something much different than friendship for him. Damn that wolf… The fear of him leaving you, he told you werewolves do this casually…does that mean he will ‘just’ continue to be your friend after fucking you out of your own mind?

Suddenly his hand began wandering again and you could feel his cock getting harder again. You moaned, unable to form a sentence as he lazliy contionued to fuck you from behind. You both laid on your side, spooning with cock and knot buried as deep into your hot cunt as it could go. Your breathing got harder when he pinched your nipples while nibbling on your neck.

“You're so silent…” He rasped into your ear. “Do I need to fuck my pretty girl out of her mind?” He asked while licking along your neck. “My mate…” You whimpered when he bit down on your neck, his hips picked up on the pace and he began to fuck his knot deeper into you. You were unable to answer, you felt like on the verge of bursting. There was such pressure on your cervix, but it felt weirdly good and you wanted to feel more. You wanted him to go deeper and to be rougher. When his teeth set your neck free he whispered softly: “I love you, I always did, and now you're all mine…” He was in a haze, your pussy drove him mad, your scent drove him mad….and he just came so deep inside you. He bred you, surely you know must have realized how perfect he is for you..

“You love me?” You asked and a tear escaped your eye. “Always, my knot does not swell for everybody…” He whispered and fucked you faster. “I…i thought you'd leave me after your rut is over…” His laugh was raspy: “I never let you go. I bred you, my mate. I want you, more than physical. I love you "I always did.” It was such a strange situation, you cried of happyness and out of pleasure while he fucked you to your next high. “I love you too..” You answered softly. He cursed and flipped you both over so that you sat on him in reverse cowboy. “Ride me then baby, make us cum.” You whined, leaning forward and arching your back, holding onto his thighs before carefully beginning to ride his cock. You never were on top before, but by all that was holy did it feel good…

“I'm going to breed you baby, you're all mine…” He moaned as he held onto your hips, helping you fuck him better. It took only a few more moments of your hips and both of you trembled under the immense pleasure. Once again the two of you collapsed and this time you were done for. Properly fucked out of your mind and so tired. Your bestfriend, no, lover, held you close and calmed. Both of you fell asleep right then and there….

______________________________

The following six months were very wholesome but incredibly stressful. You lost your job after you both forgot to call in your work. Since the two of you stayed his whole rut together fucking, which was over a week, and you didn't showed up your boss was livid. So you had to get a new job. You moved in with your best friend, quickly falling more in love with him than you thought you could. He was even sweeter now that you were his, endless evenings cuddling, hiking together…,the two of you were inseparable. You talked about the possibility of you getting pregnant…both of you wanted children…so you continued like that, taking the chances. And while he was a werewolf and maybe could smell his period, you told him you were late and that it was normal, it had not been. He had impregnated you.

So one evening you had just put the pregnancy test on his desk, unceremoniously. Just giving it to him while shifting around nervously. He stared at you, then at the test, back at you. Then he began to cry out of happyness, you cried as well. It had been a wonderful moment for the both of you.

And since then your boyfriend has treated you like royalty. Especially since you started showing. You loved being pregnant, despite all the issues coming with it. Often holding your belly.

When his next rut came around he firstly refused to sleep with you, afraid to hurt you. But when the need got too great, he built a nest. A proper nest out of pillows and blankets on your bed and basically worshiped you. He made love to you, placing his hand on your belly, being proud about having bred you. He was obsessed with it, the thought that he did that. That he made you look all this cute. He loved that he had made you glow like that.

Not even speaking about his family and pack who were more than happy. For the last part of your pregnancy you lived with him on pack territory, his pack was loveley.

Honestly you would have never thought this would happen, but you could never have been happier than with your loving -now- husband.

#werwolves #werewolf x reader #werewolf smut #werewolves #werewolf #smut #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance #monsterlover #monster bf #monster fuqqer #monster kink #monster smut #monster x human #monster x reader #tw monsterfucking

[hotpinkstars]

LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai #star rail #honkai x reader #star rail x reader #aventurine #kakavasha #boothill #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #kakavasha x reader #kakavasha hsr #boothill hsr #boothill x reader

[fayes-fics]

A Beneficial Arrangement

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.

Word Count: 6.1 k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3

It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.

“The Viscount is in want of a wife.” 

That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.

“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.” 

You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.

“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”

——

3 days later.

He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.

“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.

“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic. 

His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.

“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.

“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.

And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.

——

9 days later.

“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade. 

It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.

He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.

“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”

The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.

“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.

“Every word,” he replies solemnly.

“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.

“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”

He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.

“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.

You are married within three weeks.

——

6 weeks later.

‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.

“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.

“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.

“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.

“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.

“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision. 

“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.

“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.

“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.

“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him. 

To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.

It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.

When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.

“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.

You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction. 

You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.

——

1 month later.

You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.

So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.

“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”

Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.

As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.

Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.

“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.

Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.

“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.

You sigh.

“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.

“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.

Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.

“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.

It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.

——

2 months later.

Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.

“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.

“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.

“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”

“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.

“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.

“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.

His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.

“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.” 

But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman. 

And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.

“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.

The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first. 

“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.

“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.

“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”

“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.

“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.

A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.

“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.

“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”

“What made you change your mind?” 

He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.

“You.”

The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now…. 

Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.

“Do not dare,” you growl.

His mouth falls open in shock.

“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.

“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.

You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his. 

They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.

Good lord.

You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.

“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.

And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together. 

He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.

He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.

“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.

“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.” 

“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.

He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.

“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.

You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.

“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.

He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.

So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.

“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.

“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”

“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.

But he doesn’t answer your question directly. 

“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.

You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”

Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk. 

Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.

“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.

“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.

He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”

“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.

“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member. 

“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.

“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip. 

Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.

“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.

“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!” 

He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.

“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.

“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.

The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.

“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense. 

He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.

But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.

“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.

“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.

“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.

So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.

He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.

“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race. 

“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”

The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.

“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss. 

The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside. 

“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently. 

He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.

“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.

The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.

You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.

You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.

Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.

“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.

His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.

He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.

“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.

“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.

“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.

His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.

His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.

He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.

Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.

“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.

“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.

“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.

He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.

Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.

When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.

“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.

He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing. 

“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body. 

___

It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever. 

A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.

A beneficial arrangement indeed.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #1k notes #1k notes omg you guys! #2k notes #2k notes holy crap you guys! #3k notes #3k notes WOAH that's amazing you guys #4k notes #4k notes is INSANE TYSM

[moonstruckme]

hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?” 

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes. 

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top. 

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words. 

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?” 

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.” 

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you. 

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?” 

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—” 

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?” 

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.” 

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?” 

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.” 

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Jesus, what the hell?” 

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster. 

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?” 

“I don’t—can you move the light away?” 

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye. 

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says. 

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.” 

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his. 

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?” 

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.” 

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares? 

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face. 

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?” 

“To call Evans.” 

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.” 

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.” 

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.” 

“What if no one saw?” 

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?” 

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?” 

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes. 

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face. 

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.” 

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.” 

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’. 

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?” 

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now. 

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.” 

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.” 

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.” 

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?” 

You nod, and he winces. 

“Ouch, lovie.” 

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.” 

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says. 

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?” 

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.” 

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek. 

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink. 

“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly. 

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.” 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader #tw alcohol

[dolldefiler]

[An alternative take on something I wrote before. Had half an hour to spare before I needed to disappear again. If I’m not getting railed by more coursework tomorrow, I’ll write a smidgen more :)]

C/W: Rape, obsessive love

God, why do you keep struggling? Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you feel it? I’ll never let go of your hair. Have I ever told you how beautiful I think it is? How I love it long and silky like this? It’s perfect for-- stop fucking STRUGGLING-- for dragging you across the floor. If you only just loved me back, I wouldn’t need to do this.

Can’t you see that I’m doing this for your own good? Slap. God, I-I’m so sorry for doing that. I- you just need to understand. You’re just making it worse for yourself. Please. I’m begging you. Just let it happen. God, I’m sorry for slapping you so many times. Why can’t you see that you need it?

Why are you screaming? My cock was made to fit in your pussy. Please, I hate seeing you so sad. No, of course you don’t need foreplay. You were made for me. It should feel good even when you’re dry. G-god, you’re so tight. You’re so warm. You always feel so fucking good. Do you also feel good? Are you feeling it too? Why aren’t you saying anything? Answer me. ANSWER ME! Oh, sorry, was I choking you too hard? Is that why you didn’t say anything? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to beat you so badly and choke you so tightly. I needed to stop you from doing something silly. You understand, right? I love you.

I-is it wrong that it makes me throb seeing you cry and in pain like this? It’s not, is it? We all have our own little quirks. This is fine, right? You enjoy being hurt. I know you do. You must do. I want to be the only person that ever hurts you. I want to be the only person that ever pleasures you. Oh shit, I’m going to cum. Oh my god. Did you clench around me? Did you want me to cum inside you that badly? Why are you sobbing harder? Fuck. FUCK. Shit, that’s good.

I think it’s time for my second course. No, no, don’t cry like that. I swear it’ll be amazing, my princess. You’ll give up your most intimate hole for me. I just need to lube up your ass with your cunt- I mean, pussy drool and my cum… and… FUCKKK. Oh shit, you’re amazing. Your ass is fucking divine. Oh god, I can feel your butt vibrate around my cock when you scream. Are you doing that for me? To milk my cock better? You’re so thoughtful. But you’re getting a little loud. I said you’re getting a little loud. 

Don’t you understand? SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. AND LET ME ENJOY YOUR ASS IN PEACE.

Thank you. I’m sorry for hitting you but you really deserved it, didn’t you haha? I love you more than the world itself. I’d never hit you for no reason. I-I just want what’s best for you. If I really wanted to hurt you… Well, you saw my tools the day I started looking after you, didn’t you?

Now just hold still while I-- Ugh, you’re so hot. It’s like your asshole’s stroking my cock with every thrust. I’ll go harder now. I’m sorry, sweetie, but I need it. I need to fuck your asshole harder. Shit, sweetie? Hello? Are you… did you pass out? Well, I’m sure you’d hate for me to stop on your account.

…

Oh SHIT, yes, yes, yes. Hello, my love, are you awake again? Why are you not saying anything? Why is your face twisted like that? You look like you’re in pain. Hello? I didn’t bother stopping because I knew you’d appreciate it if I carried on. You’re the best, you know? This is why I love you so much. God, wow, it’s like when you woke up, your butthole decided to drain my dick. I can’t stop. I won’t stop. THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE MADE FOR. FUCK, I’m draining my fucking balls inside your butt. 

Hey, no, don’t cry. You can stop crying. Stop crying or I’ll fucking beat you again. You know I hate seeing you sad. It breaks my heart.

#rapekink #rapetoy #rapedoll #rough kink #r@pe fantasy #cnc k!nk #r@pe kink #free use slvt #r@pe play #r@pe k!nk #r4p3 kink #obsessive love #dark kinks #bd/sm dom #bd/sm slave

[sanemisstalker]

N/SFW. Minors DNI

CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???

KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW

Giyu

-He's inexperienced.

-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'

-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.

-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.

-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.

-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.

-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?

-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.

-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.

-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.

-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.

-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.

Gyutaro

-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.

-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-

-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.

-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)

-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.

-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.

-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-

-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.

Haganezuka

-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.

-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.

-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-

-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.

-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.

-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...

-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-

-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.

-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.

-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.

-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'

-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.

#giyu smut #gyutaro smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #hashira x reader #kny x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x reader #giyuu x reader #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #haganezuka smut #haganezuka x reader #upper moon smut #upper moons x reader #kny smut

[feyascorner]

Astarion would never admit it, but the charming lines he uses as a constant attempt to seduce you are not all his own.

He’s talented, he knows, at coming up with the heart skipping lines, describing in detail the massive amount of so-called ‘adoration’ he says he can give. He knows how to flirt, and he knows even better that despite the way you roll your eyes, he’s starting to wedge his way into your heart.

But sooner or later, ideas come to an end. And he’s starting to think you’re incapable of falling in love if he’s used all his lines and you still haven’t approached him. Perhaps you just don’t do romance. But hope wavers. Why he’s so adamant on wrapping you of all companions around his finger, he doesn’t know. He knows you’re the most difficult to seduce, yet he can’t help himself.

You’re almost like a drug to him.

So, unable to quit, he turns to his books. They’re sappy romances, and many of the lines even manage to make him scrunch his nose, scoffing at the sheer disbelief of how unrealistic some of the scenarios are. But hours upon hours later, he picks out some of the most upfront lines, because he’s sure you’ll just ignore him otherwise.

He knows you have little interest in romance, but he wants to entice you. He wants to be good enough for you to look at him.

“I must confess that the moment I laid eyes on you, everything in my body and soul told me you were the one.”

You stare at him, eyes lidded and barely fazed. Puzzled, he has no choice but to continue.

“My heart beats terribly, my beloved, whenever I see you bathing in the glory of the sun. My breath quickens, but vanishes when you get a step closer. My very existence, it seems, is meant to yearn for you,” he rattles off the lines of the book, as enticingly as he can, with eyes so seductive that they almost appear to glow. “Your beauty is unmatched with any other. If you asked, I would die—“

“—a million times in the thorns adorning my own desire,” you cut in, and his eyes widen. “The skies could fall and I would use my bloodied body to hold you up again, against the starry nights as a star gleaming brightest in its competition.”

As you finish the line, he blinks, completely and utterly confused. “How did you-“

“It’s my favorite book,” you confess sheepishly.

Astarion, for the first time, sees you as you are. He sees you as the being who yearns for love, just as a young maiden would yearn for their prince—perhaps even more innocent. He’s read you completely wrong, and he feels his throat close up. “It’s…it’s a childish one.”

Your cheeks burn, and he thinks you almost look cute. He rips away from the thoughts though, appalled at what he just considered. “I think it’s romantic.”

“No kind of love is so ideal.”

And while your face falls, you lift your head to look at him with squinted eyes. “…next time, just make your own lines—-or, at least, don’t choose ones that don’t fit you.”

“Don’t fit me? How so?”

“I doubt we would’ve fallen in love at first sight. You had a knife to my throat.”

“A loving knife.”

You stifle a laugh, and he swears he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Well…if you want, I have other books in my tent if you want to see…I have a few you might like, or at least, help.”

He just stares at you, only realizing moments later that you were awaiting an answer. “Ah, of course, darling. I’d love to accompany you. Perhaps I’ll learn a new line or two, though I doubt any writing has as much charisma as myself.”

You smile softly, nodding. “Okay then. Come over tonight after dinner, and I’ll show you.”

And as you walk away, he thinks that rather than him doing the charming and you falling irrevocably in love with him as it should have gone, your interaction has left him charmed instead.

It seems the romance novels are more than just effective at their jobs.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

[ln444]

my english love affair

cw: MDNI+18, f!reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, fluff, smut, maybe slight angst? depends on how you see it lol, fingering (f), penetration, soft dirty talk, a lot (like a lot) of kissing and sharing long gazes, whipped lando again bc im obsessed sorry.

now playing: english love affair by 5sos, let me by zayn.

notes: omg this took so long 😭 i'm not really confident abt my smut, i feel like i'm writing fluff way better but i hope you like it!! i might write a part 2, let me know if you like this one! enjoy🤍

requested by anon | requests open!

______________________________________________

“when the lights go out, she's all i ever think, i can't forget my english love affair, today i'm seven thousand miles away”

the thought of finally going back to his f1 driver life fills lando with excitement. sure, lando loves england — it's his home, after all. but nothing can compare to the rush he feels when he's in an f1 car, traveling all around the world and meeting his fans.

for his last night town, lando's friends convinced him to hit the club. normally, he prefers staying in to rest before the start of the season but a little fun doesn't hurts, right? he won't have much time to do it during the grand prix.

despite his fame, lando still gets surprised when someone recognizes him, especially at the club. he knows he's known for his looks, and he's aware of the attention from admirers, but it still catches him off guard in real life. sometimes, the attention can be overwhelming, especially when he just wants to have a good time with his friends and ends up with some overly clingy girls.

lando decides to excuse himself, seeking some fresh air. the pressure of the coming season is getting to him, and the situation doesn't help. he finds a quiet spot with a few people smoking and making out, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a relieved sigh.

suddenly, a voice startles him from his thoughts, "did your friends force you to come here too?" his head jerks towards you, and you're standing beside him, out of nowhere. he takes time to answer, surprised by your unexpected presence. after realizing that he left you without any response, he clears his throat, a bit confused, "nah, just needed some fresh air" he mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips. you chuckle slightly, and comment "not surprised, having so many girls fawning over you must be exhausting", there's a small hint of tease in your voice that makes lando's smile grows.

finally, as he turns to study your features under the soft glow of the night lights, lando finds himself entranced by your captivating beauty, the grace of your features leaving an indelible impression on him. he can't help but get lost in your eyes shining in the dim illumination, making it difficult for him to look away. it takes him a good minute to quickly look away, thanking the night for hiding his rosé cheeks.

he gazes at the sky, trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound awkward — and also trying to get his shit together. he suddenly feels the need to make a good impression. "i mean, it's not that i don't appreciate the attention, but wow, they can be quite persistent."

his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes avoid meeting yours, fearing he might get lost in them again. "yeah, i know. they're my friends," you say with a small chuckle, not because he's making fun of them, but more because of the use of the term 'friends.'

lando's eyes widen, and he turns to you, 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-' but he stops himself, looking down, feeling too embarrassed to find the right words. you laugh softly and move closer to him, your shoulders brushing and lando can feel his body tense up due to the closeness.

"hey, it's okay. i don't really consider them my friends, anyway," you say nonchalantly and lando lets out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "wow, that's nice for them", you both laugh and lando doesn't miss the way you subtly lean into him, your shoulders finally touching. he turns his head away from you, clearing his throat once more, trying to control the warmth spreading through his body.

"hey", you suddenly call out after a minute of tranquil silence and lando dares to meet your gaze, instantly regretting when he's captivated by your radiant eyes. he finds himself unable to look away and you both share an intense, unspoken connection, as if you've known each other for years. everything feels perfectly right at this moment.

"wanna get out of here?" you finally suggest, your words barely more than a whisper, your focus entirely on lando's mesmerizing eyes. you take his hand, both fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces and you let him drag you in the dark streets.

after a walk filled with stolen gaze and silly conversations, you found yourself on lando's couch, engrossed in his f1 souvenirs and you have never felt so much passion, feeling your heart soften every time your see that sparkles in his eyes. lando never thought that his night will end up like this. sure, he might ended up with a girl from the club like he usually do, but this time was different. he never really experienced this; having sweet and innocent conversations with a stranger from a club. the atmosphere is tranquil yet there's a subtle tension in the air.

lando couldn't help but be his flirty self, playfully teasing you from time to time. however, your responses makes him somewhat nervous — it's a new sensation to him, having a girl making him feel this way. perhaps it's the way you gazes at him with patience and attention, your lovely smile that you share generously with him or how closely you listen to his random f1 stories. lando and you end up scrolling through photos in his phone, with him recounting the stories behind each one. he couldn't help but feel his heart melt your reactions; your smiles, your laughs, and your curiosity as you ask for more details and share your own anecdotes.

a soothing silence descended, and the two of you sit beside each other, thighs and shoulders lightly touching. lando struggles to contain the fluttering feeling in his stomach when you turn to look at him. he dares to meet your gaze, trying to focus on your eyes rather than your enticing lips. lost in each other eyes, you can't tear your gazes away. a brand new emotion envelops both of you, one that's strangely familiar yet undeniably unique, as though destiny has brought you together in this very moment and lando can't help but wonder if soulmates might actually exist.

you finally speak, after what feels like an eternity, in a soft voice, "you can kiss me, lando", you whisper like it's a secret. lando stomach tighten and he don't even take the time to answer, gently placing his hand on your cheek to pull you for a shy kiss. your lips discover each other, timidly and your hands instinctively slides around his neck to pull him closer.

you can't seem to get enough of each other, savoring every moment as you explore each other's mouths. lando's hand venture on your hips, and the chill of his touch sends shivers down your spine, as you suppress a soft moan in your throat. the kiss grows more intense, both of you yearning for more. without the need for words, you share an unspoken understanding of each other's needs, as if you've been intimately connected for ages. out of breath, you both finally pull away, foreheads touching, sharing a playful gaze, giggling and blushing like teenagers experiencing their very first kiss.

after one last sweet peck on the lips, lando takes your hand and stands, guiding you towards the bedroom, careful not to stumble due to both your impatience and the lingering dizziness of that passionate kiss.

not wasting time, he gently guides you onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you. he can't resist the urge to pause and admire you, your eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the dim lights. before he gets lost in that gaze, his eyes roam to study every detail of your face, causing you to blush and squirm beneath him. your arms tighten around his neck, and you chuckle, bringing lando back to the present. "like what you see?" you whisper, stealing a smile from him as he draws closer, his lips teasingly brushing against yours. "oh, absolutely," he murmurs before capturing your lips in a kiss. this time, it feels different; electrifying.

lando's hands slips, beneath your dress, and this time a whimper escapes your lips, making lando smirk through the kiss. his hands dares to explore the skin of your thighs, creating an unusual feeling in your stomach — and making your pussy slightly throb. your fingers finds their way into his curls, gripping onto them as the kiss becomes messier; your tongues dancing together.

"just take it off already" you huff and puff, seeing lando struggling and he lets out a chuckle "damn, someone is impatient", he says, teasing you, before finally taking your dress off. his eyes travel your body, and you've never felt so vulnerable, your cheeks burning. lando let out an unwanted groan, completely loving the view and he stares a bit too long until you pull him for another kiss to put him out of his thoughts. he takes a moment to kiss you back and it's your turn to slide your hands beneath his shirt, playing with the lines of his abdomen, making him moan softly against your lips.

after a good minute of kissing and touching, you finally take off his shirt and his pants, on the way, leaving you both in your underwear. lando leaves kisses along your jawline, going down to your chest, his hand sliding in your back to unbutton your bra and the way your boobs bounce out of it makes lando groan, feeling his erection grows. your grip on his hair gets tighter as you watch him play with your nipples, flicking it and licking it and the view drives you crazy.

you moan his name softly, pulling on his hair to make him look at you and you share a long stare, full of lust, both craving for more. you pull him for a sloppy kiss, trying to show how impatient you are and lando gets the message, pulling down your panties and getting rid of his boxers.

lando's mouth leaves yours and is replaced by his fingers, stealing a whimper from you. your eyes meets his as you suck on his fingers and, if they could, his eyes would burn holes into yours. lando found himself getting more and more impatient, the way you suck on his fingers with that irresistible look making it harder for him to contain it.

pulling out his fingers out of your mouth and without leaving your eyes for a second, his two fingers found your hole, slipping gently in it and you throw instinctively your head backwards, a moan escaping your mouth. lando take a good look at you in that position before taking the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck, fighting the urge to suck on it to not leave marks, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.

"feeling okay?" he whispers softly, his breath hitting your skin, making it difficult for you to fight the whimpers escaping your mouth. lando takes a minute to look at you, to make sure that you don't feel any pain or discomfort.

"mmh'yes, you can move, please oh my god" you desperately says and lando can't help but pull you for another messy kiss. his fingers start moving in you, stretching your walls and you become a moaning mess, your eyes closing and lando takes advantage of it to admire you, his moves getting faster and faster.

"are you close, princess?" he murmurs close to your lips, feeling your body trembling and hearing the way your moans gets louder. you can only shake your head; feeling the bottom of your stomach getting warmer and the nickame almost make you choke on your moans. lando slows down to make scissors movements, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. he can't take off his eyes of you, inspecting every aspect of your face; the way your face crunches and your mouth is slightly open to let multiple sounds out of it. he could almost come just by this sight, his own crotch getting bigger.

with a loud and long moan, you finally climax, arching your back and lando plant soft pecks on your neck, whispering sweet words to you and telling you how good you're doing. breathless, you absently stroke his hair and close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the beat of your heart but lando makes it hard; his hands traveling your body and his lips attached to the skin of your neck.

the sudden emptiness when lando pulls out his fingers make you whimper and he lift his head to meet your gaze — he lost count of how many times he got lost in your eyes tonight. your hand make its way to his cock and the sudden touch makes lando slightly startle, a groan leaving his mouth. before you start stroking it, his hand comes to stop you immediately and you look at him, confused and with a hint of worry; silently asking him if you did something wrong.

"wanna fuck you now or i might go crazy", he says, almost whimpering and you slightly laugh, pulling his face closer to yours. "someone is impatient huh", you tease, a small smirk forming on your lips and he can't help but mirror that smirk. "how can i not when you look at me like that?" he takes your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you again, his body getting closer and his cock brushing on your pussy makes you both moan through the kiss. you take his dick, once again, in your hand to guide it through your hole this time. and slowly, he penetrates you, a long groan escaping his lips at how tight you feel around him and you break the kiss to moan loudly.

"so fucking tight, baby, just for me", he mumbles close to your lips and you can't even answer, too overwhelmed by the way he's filling you — and his dirty words. when you finally adjust, he doesn't waste any minutes and start moving. you both moan in unison, holding into each other like your life depends on it. he watches you go crazy over his cock; the way your eyes gets watery, the way you hold into the sheets — your other hand too busy pulling his hair —, the way you can't control the continuous moans, his name slipping out of your mouth from time to time and encouraging him to go deeper into you. and he does go deeper, slowing down the pace to thrust into you as deep as he can, reaching your sensitive spot.

"right here? like that, baby?" he moans, feeling you tightening around him. his voice makes it harder for you to hold your growing orgasm. your hand leaves the sheets to hold onto his shoulder, your nails crawling into his skin. lando suddenly feels the urge to look at you in the eyes — maybe because his orgasm is getting close too. his hand finds a way to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it gently "look at me, angel", he says in a husky voice that could make you come at any moment. struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to hold his gaze, the way he's looking at you making you insane.

his thrusts gets faster and you can't control the sounds escaping from your mouth anymore. you look away for a moment, too overwhelmed and lando's hand travels to your face, cupping it gently to keep it straight "eyes on me, love". you obey, meeting his gaze and it's all too much for you.

you don't even have to use words for lando to understand that you're getting close, the way your eyes gets watery and your body shakes is enough. with his hand going back to your throat, lando accompany you into your orgasm, enjoying the way you scream his name and you manage to hold his gaze. his own orgasm comes a few minutes after yours and he makes sure to pull out before ejaculating, his groans echoing in the room. he immediately falls besides you and you both just stay like this: his leg over yours, your hand still in his hair as you try to catch your breath. lando uses his last drops of strength to grab a tissue from the nightstand and clean his fresh cum on your stomach.

he pulls you close again, linking your legs together and letting you play with his hair. the silence is so peaceful; the warm of your bodies making you both relax immediately. a smile unconsciously forms on lando's lips at the sight of your tired face, your eyes shining in the almost dark atmosphere of the night. you look back at him, smiling back and giggling, making lando raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"what's so funny?" he says, fighting the smile growing on his lips. "i just slept with the lando norris", you tease and lando groans, hiding his face in his arm. "i knew you were a fan!" he replies playfully, playing along. you laugh in sync and lando's heart feels at peace; all the worries about the incoming season completely forgotten. your hand gently plays with his curls as you absently stare at the ceiling, an unbeatable smile on your face.

lando, on the other side, can't take his eyes off you, watching you slowly fall asleep and enjoying your fingers in his hair. and just before you completely close your eyes, you turn to him, offering him a last kiss; so tender and passionate that your hearts both might burst out of your chests. pulling out, lando watches you fall asleep, not fighting the smile on his face anymore.

he usually struggles to sleep before an important day but this time, his mind is only filled with you and this night spent by your side. and just like that, it's lando's turn to meet the sandman.

-

with a groan, lando struggles to reach and silence the blaring alarm. the morning sunlight aggressively shines through the curtain, making him shield his face with his arm, staying in half asleep state for a minute as he gradually gets out of it.

then it suddenly hits him; you're no longer beside him.

lando suddenly starts to panic, jolting him into full wakefulness. he springs out of the bed and desperately search for any signs of you in every room of his apartment but you're nowhere to be found. he mutters curses under his breath, passing a hand to his messy hair — the thought of you messing his hair last night making him even more frustrated. defeated, he returns to the bedroom, his gaze falling on the tousled sheets where everything happened. as lando realizes that he didn't even ask for your name, frustration festered within him, causing him to clench his hair.

however, amidst his self reproach, a small piece of paper on the nightstand catch his attention, and he immediately rushes to it.

"we will meet again, i promise. you're going to kill it, lovely boy. y/n, x"

lando can't even fight the smile creeping on his lips, his heart softening — it was beating way too fast just by the thought of not even knowing your name. he sinks back onto the bed, your smell immediately hitting him and making him even happier. he reads those few words repeatedly and his hands falls onto his chest, holding the paper close to his heart as he whispers your name again and again, savoring its melodious sound. lando can't help but tell himself that soulmates might exist.

"i am going to kill it,", lando murmured to himself, a foolish grin etching on his face.

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part 2?:p join the tag list here!

masterlist

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 angst #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic

[yuquinzel]

PULLING THEM CLOSER BY THEIR COLLARS. feat ⨾ blue lock!

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ contents ⨾ fem! reader, i was trying to write fluff yes, but it ended up a lil more suggestive than intended... :') not proofread !!

𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ characters ⨾ rin, sae, nagi, reo, isagi, chigiri!

ITOSHI RIN. . .

is all too familiar with that self-assured smirk playing at your lips— and his alarms are going off. before he can say anything though, as he watches make your way to him, you do something he could've never seen coming.

your hands rest on his collar, and before he can grasp what it is that you're trying to do— you pull him closer, making him stumble forward purely out of surprise, his much larger hand instinctively falling to the wall behind you, “w-what are you trying to do?” he hates that he stutters.

“trying to get a better look,” and he hates that you're smirking.

“... at what?” he swallows the lump in his throat, hoping it comes off as casual as he intended it to be.

“you've got an eyelash right here,” you smile, brushing his cheek lightly and reeling back. this is wrong— there was something you were supposed to do, something he wanted you to do— though he'd rather die than admit it.

“oh,” he says, a little dejected, “you could've just said that.”

“but then i wouldn't be able to do this,” you catch him by surprise the second time in two minutes when your lips meet his, quick but indulging and when you pull back, he chases after your lips.

and he hates that you're smiling and he loves it because it makes him want to smile too.

ITOSHI SAE. . .

resists the amused smile tugging at his lips when your arms rest on his shoulders. its 2 am on a wednesday and he has early practice tomorrow morning, so how you managed to convince him for a slow dance in the kitchen is beyond him. for what it's worth, he'll let it be because he doesn't mind this too much, not when your hands travel to the collars of his navy blue shirt.

then he feels a tug, and you pull him closer. it catches him off guard for sure, the spontaneity of your gesture making him stumble forward, hands coming to rest on your waist, “hey, watch it,”

you do nothing but grin, lips meeting his for a kiss as slow as the dance you initiated, he kisses you back without hesitation.

when you pull back, a little breathless with swollen lips, he asks again, “what was that for?”

he huffs when you mutter something like i just wanted to try it, but what he wont tell you is that he might look forward to you doing it again in the future.

NAGI SEISHIRO. . .

blinks at you, you're standing on your tiptoes— hands on his shoulders for support but he's still much too tall for you. he wants to ask you what it is that you want, but he'll take a guess— it must be a kiss. being the good boyfriend he is, he decides to save you the moment of asking him to bend down, initiating it himself as he does.

he takes a moment to appreciate how your eyes light up, and it's all it takes for you to grasp the collar of his hoodie, and pull him down in one swift moment.

your lips brush just barely — a tease — hovering just breaths away, nagi eyes the way they move to form words when you speak, “you're too tall, sei,”

nagi takes matter in his own hands, closing the aching distance between your lips, his next words muffled inbetween, “ ’s okay, you can do this more often.”

MIKAGE REO. . .

smiles at your reflection, eyes and hands alike tracing the fabric of the silken red dress roping the curves and slopes of your frame, “do i look okay?” you ask, and reo wants to laugh at the absurdity of the question.

“you look absolutely stunning.” he says, smiling into the crook of your neck.

you turn around at his words, a pretty smile adorning your lips. if he's being honest, reo expects a kiss— when you lean in just a little closer, he expects a quick but sweet brush of your lips on his.

instead he feels your hands grasping his collar, a surprised gasp leaves his lips when you pull him closer, “wait, what—”

“you look quite handsome yourself,” you whisper, the familiar smile from before still fresh on your lips, and reo feels his heart ricochet like bullets in his ribcage.

it takes him a few moments to come back to earth, resting his head on your shoulders when he does, “okay, but that was kinda hot.”

ISAGI YOICHI. . .

finds himself at a loss for words, somehow they're running in his mind at a million miles per second and yet when he tries to speak, all that comes out is a, “h-hey, wait—”

he thinks he could've guessed it, when you had that mischievous smile on your face. but he still couldn't prepared for when you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer, with a force not as harsh but enough that he barely catches himself.

“hi,” you laugh, watching heat settling in his cheeks at the awareness of such close proximity.

your smile, which would've usually calmed him, only makes him vaguely conscious of how your lips are barely a hair's breadth away. he snakes his arm around your waist to support himself anyway, unable to resist mirroring your laugh, “uhm, hi...? god, you caught me off guard.”

CHIGIRI HYOMA. . .

tilts his head in confusion, eyeing the seriousness of your expression, “what's wrong?” he asks.

he prepares himself for anything, maybe to whisper a few words of comfort if you need. he can handle it, he thinks.

and he realises he was utterly wrong when all you do is grasp the collar of his shirt, and before he can ask you what you're doing, he feels you tug and pull him forward.

“mhm, you look pretty even up close.” if the sudden boldness of your action didn't catch him off guard, then your compliment sure did, even though he's heard it countless times before.

but he laughs nonetheless, quickly gaining back his composure, “thanks, i could say the same for you.”

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

the favouritism showing on rin and reo's part :')

#❀˖° ─ hana writes. #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #reo mikage x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #rin x you #sae x you #nagi x you #reo x you #isagi x you #chigiri x you #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n:Had to write this down before I pass out! But!

Imagine:

Being Adam's innocent, sweet little virgin wife that Adam just ignores because he put's all is attention on Lute. You're one of the vet few Angel's that agree with Charlie and you can't help but think

'If I can prove to him that Charlie is right then maybe he'll finally make love to you...he'll finally love you'

So you slip into hell, and that's when you meet Husk. You hate him at first, he crude, rude, he is nothing like you are used to in Heaven.

But then why is he so easy to talk too?

So one day when you sneak back into Heaven you find him...you find your husband holding her...he's never held you like that before.

Heart broken you fall into heaven and that's when you start to drink.

Now Husk doesn't mind...at first but the more he see's those tears run down your pretty face, he finds that he hates it, he hates it because the only thing he's hearing are your sobs not the laughter he's come to enjoy so much.

So Husk decides to cheer you up, he may look stupid but he doesn't care he just wants to see you smile again.

Maybe he sings you own little version of Loser baby but he can't help feel relieved to see your smile, to hear that laugh and then something unexpected happens.

You kiss him, and it doesn't just stop at a kiss because soon he's fucking you...no that's not right he's making love to you and it feels so good, it feels right to fall asleep in his arms.

Husk finally feels whole, he doesn't care that you were some pricks wife. For all he knew, Adam didn't deserve you, you were far too good for a man like him.

And Husk can't help but smile because you chose him to lose your virginity too, you stayed in hell over paradise.

He didn't feel like much of a loser anymore, not since you stepped into Hell.

And as for Adam, deep down he loved you and part of him must have known he should have treated you better but now he'll never know what could have been.

#imagine #imagines #husk #husker #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin #hazbin husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husker #hazbin hotel #hazbin #husker x reader #husker x you #husker x y/n #husk x reader #husk x you #husk x y/n #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

[blackbirdie1234]

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

#jacob black #twilight saga #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight imagine #new moon #jacob x reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black x female reader #jacob black imagine #jacob black x you #twilight werewolves #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack #forks washington

[berrieluv]

<3; aaron johnson x reader (i think i didn't use pronouns but it's mention that the reader has a vagina) summary: you know damn well, you horny friends. kiki says: this fits contains unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), cheating kink, the feel of guilt that it's never enough to make him stop, i think this smut it's very light, just trying to keep you fed while i work in the angst. also english isn't my first language so i apologize for the bad writing.

me and your husband.

For the public, having you involved in the movie Kraven with Aaron after Bullet Train was just a normal occurrence, two actors working together more than once, nothing that hasn't happen before and nothing that won't happen again.

For Aaron, it was just his masterplan working. He craved you near him, he needed you there. He couldn't function properly anymore without you, without your body and the way your legs wrap around his neck.

His blue eyes are long gone by now, so full with lust he can not think of anything else. He already made you cum three times before you had to take a shower and attend a date, and now here you are again, seizing the day like you started it, with his tongue inside your wet cunt.

He kisses your thigh softly, his hand behind your knee, his mouth marking every inch of your skin with kisses, smelling your dripping pussy and looking amused at the wet spot on the beige sheets.

"You bought them for me?" He moans, looking at your lingerie next to him, the one he just took off the moment you walked back from dinner, his face buried between your thighs, you didn't. You bought them because they were pretty and expensive, and you could afford them "You look so pretty" He says.

His wife is sleeping in the next room, if you get close enough to the wall you could hear her sleep, which was weird, an expensive five stars hotel with thin walls, you must think they would be soundproof for the price. Or maybe it was your guilt, your senses sharpened in shame, making sure you never forget he's a married man.

But maybe you weren't better than that, but why should you. He wanted you, he needed you and loved you even more than you found him attractive, which was to say much.

"Fuck..." You moan when Aaron's tongue was inside your pussy. His hand grabbing your underwear and placing it on your thigh again, grabbing your skin and the lingerie along, the other hand over your belly, keeping you grounded.

Aaron licks the sides of your pussy, his tongue gently going through your folds, he teases your sensitive parts, hitting the right places, he knows how to use his tongue, and it feels like it has been wasted all this time.

Your moans grew louder when two of his fingers are inside you without any previous notice, moving them in and out, his tongue sucking on your clit and you feel yourself getting lost in pleasure.

"Is this good?" He asks out of breath, a big smile plastered across his face, almost like he thought he didn't need anything else but the sweet scent of your dripping cunt.

Was it good? It was fantastic.

"Hold for me, princess?" He asks softly, your legs curled up while your hands keep them up grabbing behind your knees.

He touches your ass, his hand traveling all over every part of your body, his lips are all over your sweet wet cunt, eating like a starving man, making sure every single drop of your wetness goes into his mouth.

"I need you..." He moans against your folds "Fuck, I need you so much"

Aaron takes all of your release, drinking it all, when he looks up his chin is all wet and a spark of proudness in his eyes.

He doesn't even look this proud when he's on a press conference.

"Keep holding your legs" He orders, taking off his jeans and boxers "Good girl" He praises with a smile when he walks back to bed.

You remind silence most of the times, your words consumed by your moans and whimpers, you want him so badly.

"Please..." You finally find the way to speak, your breath heavy and your heart beating faster than it should when he starts thrusting into you. His right hand holding himself on the mattress to not lay all of his weight on you.

His left hand massaging your breasts, treating it like it was a stress ball.

"Shit, princess" He moans, his eyes closing even if he tries to fight it, he loves watching you. He loves the look in your eyes and how they roll, going all blank when he starts thrusting faster.

"Oh!" You moan, and he smirks like a bastard, enjoying knowing he's the one making you feel like this "Oh, God! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cry, almost chocking in your own pleasure.

"Sh, sh..." He coos "Baby, you're chocking, princess" He chuckles, enjoying your desperation "I'm not even near your throat"

He caresses your cheek with a soft smile, moving slowly down to your throat, applying just the right pressure to make you gasp for air, shutting your moans.

"Don't be so loud..." He demands, it was meant to be teasing, but his voice sounds dominant, his expression is serious and his eyes darkened with lust and need of control "You know Sam is in the next room"

Sam, he doesn't refer as my wife anymore. She stopped being my wife a few months ago, just a few weeks after you became my everything. The air he breathed, not only his wants but his needs.

You feel a warm sensation running through your insides, a loud groan when he lets it out, his cum painting your cunt and dripping down your skin.

"God, I love my little masterpiece" He chuckles, watching your thighs covered by his cunt. "You're tired?"

He asks softly and you nod, his phone starts ringing at the same time you hear his wife walking around their hotel room, you wonder if he hears her.

"Your phone..." You say with your eyes closed when he ignores it and walks to the bathroom.

"Can wait" He says without hesitation.

"What if it's your wife?" You know is her.

"She can wait" Aaron says, it's almost like he doesn't care and a part of you knows he doesn't. "I'll clean you up first, super star"

#aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson fanfic #aaron johnson fanfic #aaron johnson fic #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train smut #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter smut #kraven x reader

[wildandsmile]

commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much

Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you

Total Wc. 1.1k

Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare

An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah

Rin

He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.

But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.

There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.

Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.

And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck

You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, and you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."

Sae

He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.

You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.

But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And after how wet you get just for his fangs

He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.

He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.

"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look at pet look at you getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itch the tip of your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”

Kunigami (Wild Card)

• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.

• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.

• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.

• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.

• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."

Nagi

Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game

• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.

• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.

• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.

• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.

"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and does a long lap across your leg before biting you and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #anime smut #bllk smut #praise #blue lock smut #anime #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #sae itoshi smut #kunigami rensuke #kunigmai rensuke smut #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #vampire #vampire au #request #blue lock #wild cards #tips #fanfic commissions #commission #wirters on tumblr #angst #fanfic fluff #aftercare #so hot 🔥🔥🔥