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loveshotzz · 6 months

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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Tongue Tied

summary: A Halloween party, Brenda, and teaching Steve that shotgunning isn’t just a trick guys use to kiss girls.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: My blog is 18+ fem!reader, slight jealousy, and a little insecurity if you squint, fluff, weed smoking and mentions of drinking.

<- 🎃 chapter one | mini series masterlist

Tina’s ‘witches brew’ was maybe just as bad as the music she picked, but Steve Harrington was staring at you from across the crowded room.

You’d only ever seen Top Gun once, and in all honesty you didn’t even need to watch it to know that he looked better than Tom Cruise. The brown leather of his bomber jacket fits snug across his broad shoulders, and tappers tight around his waist. It’s half way zipped up, revealing the white shirt underneath and the aviators that he’d walked in wearing dangling from the collar. The weight of them pulls the fabric down enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair that covers his chest, and your throat dries up at the thought of him shirtless. His Levi’s are light washed and well worn, a soft outline of where he usually keeps his wallet dangerously close to where your gaze wants to linger. The black combat boots he wears somehow make his feet look even bigger, your thighs press together under your dress.

His eyes roam the length of your body the way you hoped they would when you decided to dress up as The Mistress of the Dark herself. Your plunging neckline begs for his hungry gaze, and you push up your chest to encourage it. A thick black belt hugs tight around your waist, accentuating your curves in a way that has you feeling more confident than normal. Especially when you catch the way he bites his bottom lip in a smirk, darkened eyes lingering on the fake dagger resting against the softness of your tummy. Wiggling your long black nails at him, you can’t help but relish in the fact that a simple wave makes the former king of Hawkins cheeks flush the same shade of red as your lips.

It had been four days since that night with Steve. A whole 96 hours and the boy across the room from you has occupied your thoughts for every minute of every single one. It was becoming a real problem, but yet here you were at a Halloween party you’d already said no to because you knew he would be here.

Robin’s very obviously telling a story next to him, her hands moving wildly as she gets more worked up with whatever is happening in it. She’s too focused on the way Nancy’s giggling in front of her to notice that her best friend isn’t listening, the full weight of his attention making your insides warm.

Is this what it’s like to be one of those girls?

Steve chugs the rest of his beer, throat bobbing with every large gulp before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He holds your gaze even when you see him say something to Robin who waves him off, lost in the oldest Wheeler’s big blue eyes, and the first few steps in your direction is enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You almost lose sight of him when he starts to cross the makeshift dance floor in the living room, his wild auburn hair the only thing staying in your line of vision. It’s a mess of dancing bodies, and orange and black balloons already starting to lose their luster falling from the ceiling.

His eyes meet yours in the crowd and you feel the heels you can hardly walk in start to carry you closer, stepping over the empty cups and streamers that litter the floor. His smile widens, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you feel your cheeks push up doing the same.

It’s when Steve finally makes it to the edge of the crowd, stopping just a few more steps away from you when it happens. When she happens.

Brenda.

She’s dressed as Madonna, her perfect blond hair teased just right, giving it more volume than Steve’s even on his best day. Black fishnets cover her toned legs, with a matching tutu that leaves little to the imagination stopping just above the curve of her ass.

The corset she wears gives her breasts the kind of push that you know is the reason for Steve’s blush when she steps in front of him. Perfectly manicured pink nails dragging up his chest before her palm flattens just underneath where his sunglasses hang.

His eyes flicker between the two of you, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth at whatever she’s saying. He scratches the back of his neck when he responds, and it makes her throw her head back in flirty giggles before her fingers start playing with his jacket zipper.

The sting of rejection is harsher than you thought it’d be, and you hope he can’t see the way it wipes the smile clean off your face. Girls like Brenda always seemed to be the boy’s kryptonite. The urge to find your best friend is what keeps your feet moving, almost like that was your plan all along. The joint you stashed away earlier in his jacket pocket calls your name, and you don’t look at Steve as you walk past the two of them, even when you see his hand reach out for your wrist.

It’s just Steve anyway.

You keep telling yourself that, hoping that it will ease the slight lump in your throat. An anger bubbling just under the surface turning the heat in your stomach into something more like lava, a volcano bubbling, just ready to explode as you try to convince yourself that you don’t have a crush.

When you find Eddie in the next room, his tongue deep in his girlfriend Cece’s mouth on the couch, and you can’t hide the bitterness that drips from your tone.

“Make sure to get some oxygen so you don’t pass out, Jesus Christ.”

Your rude interruption makes them both pull apart with a loud smack, the fake blood he’d sloppily smeared down the corners of his mouth almost gone leaving a pink stain on his pale skin instead.

“What’s your deal? Can’t you see I’m a little busy.” Eddie’s gaze narrows into an annoyed glare, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing the same thing to Harrington.”

“That’s not why I came,” you snort, crossing your arms and it makes him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

The two of you stare each other down, unwavering, it’s only when his eyes flick towards the dance floor that he sees the cause of your sour mood. The hard lines on his forehead soften before he rubs a ringed hand over his face with an exasperated groan. Cece wraps her arms around his waist tighter, hearts taking over her pupils when she gets a front row seat of her boyfriend being your best friend.

“Here,” he sighs under his breath, pulling open his jacket to pluck out the perfectly rolled joint inside his hidden pocket. He holds it out to you in a peace offering.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you take it, giving him a weak smile before tucking the cone in your belt next to your lighter, “Go back to sucking each other's faces off, sorry to interrupt.”

Your joke makes her giggle, and Eddie grin in the kind of way that's contagious.

“He’s an idiot,” the metal head tries to comfort, “Honestly, he’ll tell you himself.”

“I’m fine.” You keep your expression as unreadable as possible, but you know it's futile to try and hide from him, “It’s just Steve.”

It’s colder outside than when you first got here, and you don’t have nearly enough alcohol in your system to keep you warm. Goosebumps rise on the inappropriate amount of skin you have showing for the season, making you wish you’d grabbed your jacket. The breeze rustles the leaves that refuse to let go or their brittle branches, mixing with the muffled bass of the music inside, while your heels make a hollow thump against the wood of Tina’s back porch.

Pulling out the joint and your lighter from your belt, you take a seat on the top of the stairs that lead to her backyard. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine as your thumb flicks the wheel that brings the flame to life, a temporary heat warming your face as you spin the fat end over the fire to burn it evenly. The earthy smell hits your nose, shoulders already relaxing before you take the first toke. Bringing it to your lips, you tuck your lighter back inside your belt, leaning back on your palm to look at the clear night sky above you as you inhale your first drag into your lungs.

It’s just Steve.

When you exhale, your eyes stay trained on the white wisps of smoke that shades the twinkling of the stars behind it and you try not to think of Brenda’s pink nails running through his hair. Your next hit is much bigger. The music from inside gets louder, making you jump when you hear the sliding glass door open. Straightening up, you turn around with a glare ready for whoever the intruder is, only to be face to face with the boy you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t like.

“Hey, there you are.” His smile is easy, and you hate that it warms you like the sun just from looking at it.

You raise your eyebrows in acknowledgment, hollowing out your cheeks taking another drag before bringing your gaze back to the sky. His boots sound heavier than your heels against the wood, some steps making the deck creak under his weight. The silence is thick with words on the tips of both your tongues, but neither one of you is willing to break it first. He sighs awkwardly out of his nose, rubbing his palms against his thighs before taking the seat next to you. Your knees knock together, and the heat of him so close sends another shiver down to your bones.

“Jesus, you have to be cold. It’s like 40 degrees outside.” Steve doesn’t hesitate to start shrugging off his jacket, and you clock the movements from the corner of your eye.

“Steve, no, really I’m fine,” you try to protest but he doesn’t listen, thick tan arms coming into view.

“Please, I can hear your teeth from here,” he chuckles, standing up to drape the leather over your shoulders, and you try not to stare at the way the hem of his shirt rises up revealing a dark happy trail.

It feels like he’s everywhere when your shoulders slot into the warm pockets where he just was, wrapped up in him just like on your couch. The spice of his cologne clings to the fabric on the inside, and you have to fight back the urge to bury your nose into the collar and inhale.

“Well aren’t you gonna be cold now?” You ask, finally daring to meet his eyes, taking another hit.

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” He winks with the kind of confidence that makes your face hot, clasping his hands together over his spread knees making your shoulders bump.

“So, Top Gun huh?” Giggling, you finally earn a Steve Harrington eyeroll.

“Look, I didn’t have to buy anything okay. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, until I heard,” he stops himself, pink dusting his cheeks and you don’t think it's from the frost in the air, “I’m surprised you’ve even seen it, doesn’t seem like your type of movie.”

“What’s my type of movie, Steve?” You grin with a cocked brow, letting the end of the joint rest against your bottom lip, the heat from before blooming deep in your gut when he tracks the movement licking his.

“I don’t know,” his heavy gaze makes your throat bob, “You tell me.”

You don’t think you’re talking about movies anymore.

“Isn’t Brenda going to be looking for you?” You tear your eyes away from him, taking another hit to seem nonchalant. The loud snort you get in response makes you jump.

“Brenda? No, I’ve been dodging that girl for months.” Running a hand through his hair, he dares to snatch the joint from between your fingers like he was some kind of professional or something. “Is that why you ran off on me in there?”

“I did not run off!” You huff, ducking your head inside his jacket to glare at him from over the top of it, “Why would I do that?”

Vulnerability softens Steve’s features when he looks at you tucked into his coat like it’s always meant to keep you warm.

“I don’t know,” he repeats quietly, “You tell me.”

Too scared of rejection, it’s his turn to look away bringing the joint to his mouth in an attempt to take a hit. You watch him hollow his cheeks, impressed for a second until he opens it to exhale and blows nothing out. A giggle slips past your lips that breaks the tension, making him groan loudly trying to fight his own smile.

“Look, I’m still new at this okay.” He sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him with a shake of his head handing it back to you. He’s only a little embarrassed, too enamored by how cute you look giggling at him.

“Hey, the confidence was there, you just gotta work on the technique.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, something sweet dancing behind your eyes when you scoot a little closer. “Do you want me to shotgun it for you?”

It’s Steve’s throat that bobs now.

“Aren’t guys supposed to do that to girls? I mean, I’ve seen Eddie do it at a few parties…” he starts, eyes going wide when you scoff at him.

“Wow, your feminism is showing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just like in movies - I’m not saying girls can’t - wow this is not coming out the way I want it too, I’m just going to shut up now.” Steve stammers, running another nervous hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath before meeting you

with sheepish eyes.

“Are you driving tonight?” You ask, looking up at him from under your lashes, bringing the joint to your mouth.

“No, for once.” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes your head spin.

“Good.” Turning your body towards him, the confidence you’re trying to hang onto wavers being this close again.

It’s just Steve.

He looks nervous as you feel, but tries to hide behind a quiet laugh, the amber of the beer he drank inside lingering on his breath. The warmth of his palm finds a home on your fishnet covered thigh that’s revealed to him by the side slit of your dress, fingertips pressing into soft skin. The heat behind his stare makes your body buzz as you inhale the last little bit of the joint into your lungs, beckoning him closer with a hum, and a curl of your long nails you snuff the rest out on the stairs. Surely Tina won’t mind.

“Really?!” Steve half whispers, half yells but the whites of his teeth show giving him away.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you lean forward catching the way his gaze flicks down, and how the view makes the gold specs inside his eyes darken. Resting your hand on his cheek, the stubble tickles your palm when your fingers spread out, your thumb coaxing his chin down to open up more for you. His long lashes flutter when his nose bumps with yours, heads turning just enough for lips to brush for a second and you feel the blunt ends of his nails dig into the holes of your fishnets.

You release your hit, feeling him steal the air from your lungs, his hand daring to move up your thigh to your waist where he tugs you even closer. He holds it in for a second, both of your eyes meeting down the bridge of your nose but neither of you pulling away.

Do it.

When he exhales there’s hardly anything left, but you take it anyway, your fingers finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezes at the dough of your hips, in a silent plea to put him out of his misery and just when you think you’re about to show him mercy the sound of the music getting louder and the sliding glass door opening makes you both jump away.

“Hey! - Oh shit! Sorry Harrington, I didn’t know you were out here.” Eddie tries to apologize profusely with his eyes when he sees the glare you’re shooting him. “I just sold the last of my stuff and Cece’s ready to go, so if you still need a ride?”

Your best friend looks at Steve begging him to take the opening to hopefully spare his life.

“I didn’t drive tonight if you can actually believe,” Steve laughs nervously scratching the back of his neck, “or obviously I’d love nothing more for you to stay.”

He says the last part softly, just for you more than pleased when he sees you try and fight the smile from taking over your face.

“Maybe next time,” you look at him from under your lashes hoping that he picks up the fact that you want a ‘next time.’

The blush that turns the tips of his ears pink tells you he does. He watches you get up and start to shrug his jacket off, shaking his head as he stands up to stop you.

“Keep it tonight, honey. It looks better on you anyway.”

-> chapter three

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington series

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undeadcannibal · 11 months

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Your honor I'd like to propose an amendment to the 🍆 head cannon post:

Curvature and distinguishing colors, features? Are they darker or the same shade? Lighter? Hair color? Texture? Who's got a lean? 🥎⚾s?

Summary: More requested ‘N.SF.T’ headcanons for Task Force 141, Los Vaqueros, and König~ Part 2 of this post here!

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and König.

Warnings: explicit content!

A/N: Never did I expect for that other post to become as popular as it did. I’m happy y’all enjoy my gross and overly-detailed headcanons. Also, please note, if any of you happen to not like or find any of my hcs to be gross or not what you expected, keep in mind they’re just my headcanons. Don’t take ‘em seriously, dudes. Weird and rude replies will be deleted. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Gaz―

Not much of a curve to it, honestly, he’s pretty straight curvature wise. Distinguishing colors? I’d say his foreskin is the same as his skin tone overall, tip-wise? I’m thinking it’s a bit darker than the color of his lips and flushes an even deeper color when he’s fully aroused, mhm. Hair color of his pubes is dark and also has a some curl and texture to it when he does let it grow out for some time. Balls, too? Hm... I’d say Kyle’s sporting a nice, snug set he prefers to keep smooth and clean more often than not.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that he adores you paying extra special attention to his balls. Worship them and he’ll be cumming all over your face in no time~

Ghost―

Slight upward curve that stimulates you in the best of ways. IDC what anyone says, man has a mouthwatering cock with a nice flesh-pink tip and anyone can fight me on it. Probably slightly darker than his overall skin tone but not by much. Pubic hair stuff... I’m torn between him being a natural dirty blond or brunet. (I can’t remember where I saw the fanart from, but someone has a headcanon that he bleaches his brunet hair blond and oof, I’m in love, also give him long ass roots since he can’t keep up with his root touch-ups while out on missions) Straight-ish texture to his hair as well, grows pretty smoothly altogether. THIS MAN has a thick vein running down the middle of his shaft, my lord. And finally, for his balls, I’m thinking he’s got a hefty set that he’s quick to push you down to so you can pay them some attention, expect some light tickling from the hair there, too. uwu

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he struggles with being submissive and prefers being dominant the majority of the time due to his trauma. He doesn’t like the idea of submitting to someone -- he’s far too afraid of what kind of consequences it could possibly have for him. This doesn’t mean he’s a sadistic or strict Dom. If anything, he’s hyper aware of your reactions to every little thing he does, also refuses anything hard or physical against you, he detests the thought of causing his partner pain.

Price―

Leans ever so slightly to the right, isn’t too noticeable though. Since he’s circumcised in my previous post, could probably notice a scar that separates light flesh-tone color of his shaft from the faint pink of his tip. Also, despite him preferring to trim his facial hair specifically, I’d see him as going fully natural bush-wise. Man’s got a lovely cushion of brown hair that’s got just the faintest amount of gray speckled throughout. While he looks very textured, I personally think his hair would be soft af. Large set of balls that droops a bit lower now than when he was younger~

Bonus! Kink headcanon for John is - if you’re willing - he’d love to use you as an ashtray when he’s smoking. He’d light up, take a few puffs, than order you to open your mouth so he could tap the ashes off onto your tongue. Ordering you to keep your mouth open so he can see the black and grey specks of ash decorating your tongue before having you swallow.

Soap―

Has just the slightest upward curve to him, definitely jokes it’s great for helping stimulate his partner’s g-spot. Also knows all the best camera angles for top-tier dick pics. Shade darker than his natural skin tone and also has a smidge of hair going up the bottom of his shaft. Doesn’t mind in the slightest though. As mentioned before, he prefers going all natural and doesn’t shave or trim much. Lord, the amount of hair this man has. Has treasure trail, hair thighs, ass, groin, everything. Sorry, I love hairy men, what can I say? Also, when he’s super pent up, his tips turns a deep ruddy shade you love to see every time. Balls are on the larger side with one being slightly smaller than the other, also very sensitive and will have him turning into a whimpering mess if you pay special attention to them.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he takes every spare chance he can get to take and send nudes and videos of him jacking off. Doing his best to make those sounds you love whilst trying not to get caught by anyone. Those moments are for your eyes and your eyes only~

Rodolfo―

Sobbing because his cock is the same gorgeous shade as the rest of his skin, although can see the head of his cock and his balls being a tad darker. Maybe has a tad lean towards the left. Has trimmed dark hair that feels amazing beneath your fingertips. Balls are a bit on the larger side. Run your tongue over them and his dick will be twitching above your face in no time, also will draw up tight to him when he’s cumming~ Please spread this man’s thighs apart, he’s got beauty marks for days and will fucking tremble if you kiss and run your tongue over them!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he’s got such a praise kink when it comes to his partners. The hottest thing in the world for him is for him to be showering his partner with compliments, feeling them clench tightly around him as his words register in their pleasured-addled minds.

Alejandro―

Much like Rudy, he’s a beautiful shade of tan all throughout, and his cock head is just as flushed and ruddy when he’s aroused. Much like Rudy, has a lean but his is the exact opposite, veering to Also is hairy just like Soap, but nowhere near to the same degree. If anything, man’s sporting a thick bush, hairy thighs, and legs. Also another man sporting thick veins throughout the length of him that he’s more sensitive about being touched than he’d like to admit. Large set of balls that do sag a bit but doesn’t mind in the slightest definitely likes to teabag his partner as a result if they allow him to

Bonus! Kink headcanon for our man is that he’s a sucker for sloppy oral, giving or receiving, but especially receiving. Nothing excites him more than seeing how ruined and messy he can make your face as he fucks it.

König―

Doesn’t really have much of a curve or lean to him, but rest assured he’s got veins for days lining his shaft. And, if you run your tongue along them, he melts on the spot. Perfect male whimpering audio material <3 The color of him is noticeably darker than the rest of him. That, combined with his beautiful sandy colored curls make for a mouthwatering view. Also has large, yet tight balls that are far more sensitive than he’d like. Overstimulate the big guy right now!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that due to his size all around, he’s grown to have a liking for size difference with his partner being smaller than his. It’s pretty easy given his height, but more so it drives him feral to see his cock bulging his partner’s belly out with every thrust he gives.

#john price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #könig x reader #call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader #los vaqueros x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #'nsft'#opened mail #requests #my writing #lordsexmachine

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doki-doki-imagines · 10 months

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tw: starts sweet end with smut. AFAB!Reader.

author's note: I'm writing this with a high fever, have pity of me LOL.

"For real, liebe? You have a weak ass body" you wince at his voice, your ears sore and brain too tired to formulate a good comeback. "Michael, you either come here and help me or we can close this call-" the recognizable sound of a closed call; asshole. This reminds you that your boyfriend is made of 80% of shit instead of water. You turn on your sofa, cover following your movement, curling as much as possible and try to sleep off both your irritation and fever. You don't know how long you napped, but the sound of your door opening woke you up. You rub your eyes, lifting you up on your elbows and what a sight, Michael with his blonde hair framing his face perfectly, the shade of blue in them making his eyes stand out even more. He is wearing a white linen shirt with Mandarin collar, his beige pants fitting perfectly around his legs, but the most beautiful aspect is his smile, a sight for sore eyes, literally. "Liebe, I'm here with hot soup, bought don't worry I don't want to kill you, also put the mask on I don't wanna get ill too-" In a second he is next to you, kneeled on the ground soup in one hand and a filled spoon toward your mouth while he keeps babbling something your mind can't process. "Micha, less forceful" you whisper, voice groggy. Your boyfriend's head tilting on the right, looking at you puzzled but he follows your request, for once, and so you can finally eat at your own pace. You soon finish the soup, feeling sleepy again. "Liebe, can I take you to your bed?" Michael is now sitting on the edge of the sofa, his colder tattoed hand brushing away some hair sticking on your forehead. You don't reply with voice, throat hurting too much, you just nod, sticking your arms out waiting to be picked up. Michael smirks, his eyes looking at you with fondness, picking you up as carefully as he can, while he brings you on your bed. Your soft breath under the mask also lull him to sleep, your head laying on his chest, near his heart, while his arm keep you close as possible to his body.

Smooch. What's this sound? Smooch. You open slightly your eyes and what you see? Michael giving you light kisses on your face, he has his eyes closed so he doesn't notice you waking up. "Why so nice all of sudden?" You say as jokingly as you can. Your boyfriend's eyes get wide open in a second, but he doesn't reply with his usual arrogance, as you expected, he just keep kissing your face softly. "I'm so sorry you are sick." "You shouldn't worry, it won't last long." "I'm not worried about that." His expression serious, feline eyes sparkling, a shine it's not the first time you've seen. "Mh? Then what?" "I'm so sorry you won't be able to enjoy fully my cock into your tight pussy." "Mh???" This time you're the one to open your eyes wide. "Please, can I go further?" His voice is whiny, you can feel the lust dripping from his voice, his lips softly kissing up and down your neck but he doesn't move a finger on your body, waiting for your permission. "Go, but be gentle" Michael looks up from your neck, a boyish grin adorning his face. "Thanks liebe" He kisses your sweaty forehead, his hand pushing away your hair while the other wanders lower, towards your chest where he gives a soft squeeze. "I'm already so hard" He gasps into your ear, his warm breath prompting delightful shivers down your spine. "If you weren't so frail right now I'd make you suck me dry, I'm sure my cum will heal everything." Now, if you were in your mind you would have just slapped him behind his neck, but you are not, so you can only nod along as your shivers get more intense when his forefinger circle around your clit. "Liebe you are impossibly tight, you have to loosen up a little." The blonde bite his lower lips; he would love so much to have his way on you being his rougher self. You can tell he is trying to keep his composure as much as possible, his forefinger and index curl and penetrate your cunt, but not fast, almost soothing while the other hand that previously kept you close to his body is now massaging your breast, never pinching, just softly groping. "You are getting so wet, liebe. Do you think you're ready?" "Yes darling" Michael gasps at your answer, he always had a thing for your voice. Incredible how fast he throw away his pants, shirt still on but full of creases. He gives himself a few pumps, not really needed since his cock was already standing proudly on his abdomen, precum drooling down his shaft. The blonde position himself in between your legs, his tip kissing your outer lips but never going in. "Michael" You whine, but your reaction reward you with a slap on your clit, the gesture making you shiver more in pleasure than pain before he finally putting his tip in. "Always so eager for me, mh?" He grabs your thighs, lifting them up a little from the covers while he slowly sink in, every muscle of his body tense. "Are you good?" You nod. His movements are slow but intense, Michael's hands on your thighs keep twitching, in normal circumstances you would be already folded like a origami, but not today, you can feel all the restrain in his fingers that will however make nasty marks the next day. "I-I'm gonna fuck the sickness out of you-" Michael keeps going with his slow grinds, his balls slapping against your bum the sound arousing you both. "Micha-" "Fuck!" He kisses you through your mask, but you soon feel a growl, his lips form a nasty scowl "Fuck this fucking-" his hips increase the speed "Mask! Wanna feel your tongue!" his hand leave your thigh to pull off roughly the mask covering your mouth. He is so fast you don't have the time to register his movements, you can only feel his tongue dancing with yours and the softness of his hair that you're grabbing to push his face impossibly close to yours. It takes a few more arhythmic trust and you both reach your apex. "How do you feel liebe?" He breathes out, his head in between your head and shoulder. "All good Micha, thank you." "My pleasure darling." Michael lays on top of you for a few minutes before pulling the both of you up to clean you both.

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"Michael you should have imagined this." It is the next day, you are fresh as a rose, any sign of sickness erased from your body. But now the feverish one is your boyfriend. "You wanna fuck the sickness out of my body?" He coughs in between, but the grin and spark behind his eyes never leave his face. You look at him, then at the wall in front of you, then at Michael again. "Pull off your cover, you had a wonderful idea" You run to him, legs at each side of his lap, cover already on the ground and hands gripping your ass. "Fuck yeah."

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk smut #blue lock smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you

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lamaery · 2 years

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Well kids, wether you are getting back into the fandom now, or stayed here the rest of the time like us other weirdos, here is one of the gems I stumbled over while digging through loads of fan fictions to distract myself from the stress and the woe of the world. Not fine together by asleeb It is utterly fluffy and involves a lot of neck kisses. It is rated mature – for mild reasons, though (it's in the tags) – and goes for very soft ace/allo representation. At the same time is written in a way that makes it feel very emotionally grounded and in the moment. The banter is excellent and in my opinion feels very true to both of their characters.

So yeah, if that sounds like your cup of tea, give it a read. I definitely enjoyed lots of it. --------------------------------------------------------

[image description: The first image shows Martin and Jon standing next to a highland cow. Both are wearing outdoor jackets and scarfs. Jon a big red one and Martin a thinner blue one. Jon has brown, pockmarked skin, wears glasses and long, grey-streaked hair pulled into a loose bun at the back of his head. He gazes at the cows head, apprehensively touching is long fur on the top of its head. The cow has long, curved horns, and a short face with only its snout peaking out of the brown, shaggy fur. Martin stands next to Jon, almost a head taller, a very round face and nose. He has light skin, that is peppered lightly with an array of freckles and blond with an ashen shade to it. His expression when looking down at Jon is somewhere between very fond and highly amused. He says "There, now you like a cow."

The second image is an array of sketches and scenes. On the left side is a sketch of Martin's face, looking down, smiling. Underneath is a depiction of Jon looking worried and haggard. To the right in a panel of its own we see both of them standing next to a hight coffee table with both their big backpacks stuffed underneath. Martin is holding a small plastic cup, smiling, while Jon bickers next to him in the morning light. Underneath is a little sketch of them at a bus stop next to a random field somewhere in the highlands. Both are wearing their backpacks. Jon stands there hesitantly. "Seeing the ... 'sights'" he comments. Martin rambles excitedly towards the landscape around them and exclaims "The Sights!" In the lower left corner is another tiny sketch of Jon giving a surprised Martin a peck on the cheek. The third image is a drawing of both of them sitting on a blanket in the grass with a pasture with highland cattle, tress and the highlands in the background. We see them from behind. Martin is leaning into Jon, his left hand holding to the back of Jon's jacket. Jon has his right arm through around Martin and holds him tight, while Martin whispers "thank you for holding my hand."]

#I miss hiking in Scotland #tma #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #fanfiction #illustration #scribbles #fluff #scottish safehouse period #good cows #autums vibes #described by op #tma spoilers #I remember having tea at a kiosk after getting of a bus in Inverness...

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dxm-b00 · 4 months

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Pampering the qween | Vil Schoenheit

An: just reposted on here from wattpad

cw: bondage, aftercare, feminization, body worship, praising, degrading, hand job , light marking, edging, sex toys, anal fingering, overstimulation (don't remember if the reader's gender is mentioned)

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It was a pretty rare occurrence for Vil to have a day off. No photo shoots, no movies or commercials recordings. Your poor baby works so hard everyday trying to be everyone's number one favorite person.

So once you got the call from him asking you to come over to his dorm; you didn't hesitate to waste any second, but you didn't expect anything else when arriving their.

A pair of dark beautiful sapphire violet eyes looked up to you, his black expensive eyeliner was trailing down his soft clear porcelain face. The beautiful dark red apple color lipstick was smeared all over.

Vil was wearing a cute little purple crop, a short white mini skirt that just barely covered his pre-cum oozing cock, he was also wearing a light purple that faded into white thigh high stockings that perfectly covered his plump thighs.

And just underneath the article of clothing, Vil was wearing a neatly tied set of ropes around his body that perfectly squeezed his body. His blond dyed lavender purple ends hair was sticking to his forehead as the rest was pulled in to a small ponytail or loosely laying out on the bed.

"You look so beautiful like this Vil." You was kissing his neck you sucked on his sweet spot, making sure not to suck too hard to damage his precious skin otherwise it will cause a hickey to form. Vil moaned so beautiful. A light shade of blush dusted over his cheeks, your fingers was ghostly touching his cock.

"Mmm..(y/n)." You lifted up his crop top, pulling it over his head. You leaned down his chest quickly giving him a peck on the lips. Quickly pulling away from him before he could desperately tried sitting up to kiss you again, but you looped your finger around the rope making it tighter.

"Ah, (y/n)..." Vil groaned out, while you smiled in enjoyment. You got up from sitting up from his crotch, you went to his dresser draw moving a few things around as you took out the sex toys the blond housewarden hid secretly in their. If anyone found out he had those his reputation will be tarnished.

"Please...touch me." He begged, his glossy eyes looked up to you. Your hands rubbed his silky smooth thigh highs, you could see his cock twitch underneath the short skirt. Your dominate hand snaked under his skirt, flipping the clothing up to land on his stomach. Buds of pre was leaking down past his slit.

Your hand wrapped his dick giving it a few pumps before you start at a slow pace. "Ah-!! Nghh. . .~" You cooed at him hushing him down so his dorm mates wouldn't hear him; his body was always so sensitive, you could always overstimulate and edge him for hours which is what you were going to do.

"Please-please go faster, it's driving me crazy." he said in between moans and whines. You didn't want him getting too needy so you sped up the pace. The hand you jerked him off with went faster, your thumb would swipe across the slit a couple of times."Mmm~" You simply chuckled at him, your eyes swallowed up the view of his cock throbbing as more of his pre-cum dripping down on to your hand.

Smirking to yourself as a thought came to you, your hand started to jerk him faster. Vil let out a chocked out moan, "Ah- wait..If you go that fast I'm gonna-!" You let go of his cock, Vil's arched his back so beautifully.

For a split second you would've thought he did this with other people. You going with this torturous method until he was begging and sobbing for you to stop, he tried a couple of times to grab your hand to stop you but you slapped his hands away.

Tears of frustration was overflowing in his eyes, no matter how much he begged for you to let him come, kissing his cheeks to calm him down, just to torment him all over again. "Am I not giving you what you want, baby?"

He couldn't even form the words, he just shakes his head, fat blackish tears rolling down his face as he struggled to look at you. Another smile formed on your lips, you leaned back down to kiss his soft lips. It was passionate at first but it slowly started getting sloppier by each second.

Teeth was clashing into each other, your tongue caressing and exploring each corner in his mouth, drool slipped past both of your lips. Vil moaned against the kiss, thick, sticky, warm cum spurted all over his skirt and your hand. You slowed down your hand as you coaxed him through his intense orgasm. "Good job, princess," you gently let go of his cock, wiping your cum spilled fingers over his asshole.

He threw his head back as you slipped one of your fingers inside him tight hole. It was just a single digit, but you was still able to take his breath away making him mewl out in sensitivity from your touch. Pumping your middle finger in an out of his ass- it just enough for him to feel the pressure tighten the coil in his belly. His walls pulsated against your finger, you rubbed his inner thigh. "Baby relax."

You gave him a gentle smile as you add your ringer fingers, feeling him loosen up. His thighs were shaking, every spasms you felt oh his wall as you pressed on his prostate had, his hole fluttering around you, eyes rolling back and moaning out your name. It all belonged to you.

Your fingers curled up against his sweet spot, drawing out higher pitched moans as more of the milky substance leaked out. Pulling out your fingers out of him. You pulled down one of his thighs, lifting up his legs to place soft kisses on the soft skin. You grabbed one of Vil's favorite butt plug.

Circling the toy around his puffy hole before slowly pushing the toys inside, not wanting to hurt him. “F–fuck!” you wait for him to relax. “There you go it's all the way in now.” you dip your head between his thighs, you place soft kisses on his tip.

“Can you go another round sweetie?” he nodded his head, you grabbed the vibrator wand off the bed. Turning it on the lowest an putting it on his sensitive dick, Vil squirmed and bucked his hips. The overstimulation and sensitivity was getting too much for him. He was on the brink of passing out, his body was exhausted.

“Too much, so sensitive!” Moving the vibrator all over his cock, his pupils we're blown wide with lust, and you could see the desperation in him. Pure excitement washed over you as you came to knew what was going to happen neck.

A few more minutes and he came undone for you again, arching his back off the bed again as he shook violently on the bed while making a mess of himself again and the purple sheets. He came down from his high, energy drained completely as he laid on the bed.

His chest is heaving up and down trying to catch his breath, his eyes closed shut everything felt too much for him. He softly drifted off to sleep, you went to the bathroom an came back with a wet suite towel, make up wipes and ointment, in your hand, gently untying the rope you kisses and rubbed in ointment to any spot where the rope left a mark.

After you was done with that you opened the make up wipes packaging to clean up any that was left over and used the towel to dap any sweat, drool and cum on his skin. You put put away the things you used. Getting on the bed as you laid him on top of you, pulling the covers on both of you. “I love you Vil.” You said kissing his forehead as you played with his hair.

#twst #disney twst #vil schoenheit #vil smut #sub!character #sub character #sub vil schoenheit #old work #wattpad #twisted wonderland #sub twisted wonderland #female reader #dom reader #dom!reader #top reader #gn reader #male reader #f

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onlyhuis · 1 year

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Imagine sweet sweet junnie letting you put make up on him while you're sitting in his lap and he ends up looking so insanely pretty with glittery eyeshadow and cherry red lips that you're moaning at the sight and he grabs your hips to start grinding into you 'why are you moaning so prettily my love? do I look that good?' and oh wow look at that somehow you ended up butt naked with lipstick marks all over 👄

i literally fell off my bed and rolled around on the floor for an hour after reading this oh my god what did i do to deserve this anon you're criminally insane

member — junhui x f!reader genre — smut, fluff word count — 2.5k synopsis — jun wants you to put makeup on him for the party you're going to tonight, but why go out when you've got a gorgeous man right here instead? warnings — reader has a vagina and breasts, nicknames (my love, baby, sweet girl, good girl), a bit of dry humping, fingering, jun has a hair pulling kink (?), marking, briefly mentioned big dick jun, creampie (what did you expect from me), a very improper use of lipstick, established relationship, it gets really soft at times beware

“you should do my makeup,” jun says nonchalantly, sitting in the chair in the corner of your room.

you glance up at the mirror, holding his gaze in the reflection, your hand paused with your eyeshadow brush inches away from your face. “since when do you want makeup for a frat party?”

“since now.” he shrugs, leaning back against the chair and stretching out his legs. your eyes automatically fall to the empty space in his lap before darting back up to his face. “why not? it looks so pretty on you. we can match.”

you give him a look at the sudden compliment, but you set the brush down and turn around in your chair to face him. “fine. what do you want, just eyes? or the whole face?”

he runs a hand through his hair once, blond hair falling across his forehead. “up to you. but i want the lipstick you’re wearing.”

you stare at him for a second, noticing the troublemaking gleam in his eyes that hints at his true intentions. but finally you grin, grabbing the eyeshadow palette from the table and bringing it over to him.

you could just as easily have him sit in front of the mirror like you had done, but he’s not the only one who can play games. you cross the room and sit down on one of his spread legs; to anyone else, it may seem like an innocent enough gesture, but both of you know what you’re doing. teasing.

you sweep your brush through a glittery powder, a shade not far from yours but still bright enough to stand out. he did want to match, after all. but just as you’re about to apply it to his face, you feel his hands reach out to grip your waist.

“you’re too far away,” he says casually, but you could swear you heard a whine in his voice. he tugs on your hips to draw you further up his leg. “don’t you have to get closer to do it?”

you keep as straight a face as you can as you stand up to adjust yourself, sitting back down so you’re straddling his lap with one leg on either side of his hips.

“is this better?” you ask, sinking down just a little bit more so your thigh brushes against the bulge you had suspected might be there.

he lets out a barely audible sigh as his hands trail down your waist. “mm, yeah.”

you try not to smirk as you bring your hand up to his cheek. “now close your eyes for me, junnie.”

he does as he’s told, pretty eyelashes fluttering shut as you begin to work. each brushstroke spreads the glittery substance across his lids, and you can’t help but smile as you watch his face, studying the way the shadows from the cheap yellow overhead light fall so gracefully across his cheekbones.

you rub at the corner of his eye with your thumb and then stand up, walking back over to your makeup bag. jun huffs, and in your peripheral you can see him not-so-subtly adjusting his pants.

you grab what you were looking for and sit down again, this time pushing down a little rougher on his bulge and eliciting a louder whine from his pretty lips. “forgot my eyeliner pencil,” you say coolly, resting your hand on his cheek again.

“mhm,” he says in a way that you know he doesn’t believe you, but he closes his eyes anyway.

you smudge the dark pencil at his eyelashes, giving him directions about where to look so you can apply it at the right angle, but more than once you catch him staring up at you instead. pretending like the look in his eyes doesn’t make your stomach flutter is probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

you finish with his eyes and sit back to admire your work, resting your full weight on his lap. he muffles a groan, but neither of you mention it.

finally, you bring out the finishing touch: the lipstick he’d been admiring earlier. and by admiring, you mean he’s been staring at your lips for the better part of the last hour.

“why are we even going to this party, anyway?” he asks, and you scoff, telling him to stay still as you press the bright red stick to his lips in careful strokes.

“why else do we go to parties? because it’s almost the end of the semester, and i wanna get drunk and make out with mildly attractive guys.”

“well, i’m right here,” he says with a laugh once you give him the go ahead, rubbing his lips together at your instruction. “and i’d argue i look way more attractive than anybody at that party.”

“mm, i’d have to agree. i am a pretty good makeup artist, aren’t i?”

“you are, but you know what would make it even better?” he asks.

you shake your head, waiting for him to tell you. but he doesn’t tell you. instead he cups his hands behind your head and draws your face towards his, pressing his lips against yours. his mouth moves slowly at first but his kisses turn rough when you start kissing him back, lips parting slightly to give him better access.

but just as you start to melt into him he pulls away, studying your face as you exhale deeply. his lipstick is smeared across his chin and you’re certain yours is now too, but you couldn’t care less about what you look like when jun is sitting in front of you looking absolutely fucking delectable.

“now you look perfect,” he says under his breath, and you let out a gasp when his grip on your waist turns tighter, holding you down against his lap so you can feel every part of him. you’re sure he must be able to feel your throbbing heat through his pants, but he doesn’t say anything; he just pulls you back in, his sloppy kisses settling on your lips.

he grinds his hips up against you, slowly, experimentally, and you moan into his mouth in response. you can feel his lips turn upwards into a smile at the sound, clearly pleased with your reaction. whimpers escape you as you chase his lips, desperate for more of him.

his hands that were guiding your hips at first have stopped and you move your hips continuously on your own now, practically riding him over his clothes as you grind across his lap. he pulls away again suddenly, leaving you panting for breath once more.

“why are you moaning so prettily, my love? do i look that good?” he asks. his tone is innocent, though he knows exactly the answer to his question, gleefully ignoring everything you’ve just been doing as he teases you.

“jun,” you breathe out his name, both a plea and a question.

“yes, my pretty baby?”

you moan out loud at his words, and in response he attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck at your skin. you can feel the waxy stickiness of his lipstick on your neck, and you inhale sharply as one of his hands starts to dip into your pants.

“tell me what you want, my love,” he says, lifting his lips away from your neck for a moment to speak.

your breath hitches as his fingertips brush across the skin beneath your belly button, his touch far too light to do anything but still more than enough to drive you wild. “want you, jun…” you repeat his name, and he hums, fingers skimming lower until you can feel the tip of his finger run through your folds once.

“so wet for me, baby. all this just from me wearing makeup? you’re dripping all over my hand, sweet girl.”

you let out an impatient whine, and he presses another kiss to your stained lips. his eyes raise to meet yours again, and after what feels like an eternity he nods, and your hands jump into action, eager to free yourself from your clothes.

the party and the makeup you spent so much time on are both long forgotten as you fumble to pull your top off. jun smiles, his hands circling around you to grab underneath your ass and hoist you up as he stands up from the chair. he tosses you on the bed in one swift motion as your shirt falls to the floor.

you kick off your pants and jun unbuttons his jeans, climbing on top of you as you tug his shirt up and over his head. immediately his lips attach to your breast, the remnants of his lipstick leaving bright red marks across your skin as his teeth skim over your nipple before moving on to your other breast.

you look down at him and moan at the sight as he works his way across your chest, a trail of red leading down your body as he kisses his way down to your stomach.

you dart out a hand to pull at his hair, stopping him from going any further, and he moans, leaning his head back to strain his hair in your grip.

“you’re not eating me out with lipstick on, junnie,” you say, and he huffs like he’s disappointed but he accepts it, moving up your lipstick-covered body to kiss you once more.

he hovers over you, almost laying at your side with how close he is to you, and you crane your neck up to meet his lips again. his hand slides down to poke at your entrance and slips one finger into you, then quickly adds a second when he meets no resistance. you gasp and let go of his hair, hands falling to clutch at the sheets beneath you instead, but he pulls his fingers out and hums at your action, displeased.

you find his eyes and study his expression as he grabs your wrists and places your hands back on his head. you can feel his fingers that were just inside you smear your wetness across your forearm.

“want you to pull on it,” he says by way of explanation, and you nod, winding your fingers through his soft locks. “good girl,” he says softly, and gently he pushes back into you, drawing another whine from your lips.

his pace starts slow, but his hand quickly speeds up when you tighten your fingers in his hair. it’s too easy how he finds the perfect angle that has your eyes rolling back, building you up until you can’t hold back anymore and you’re clenching so hard around him he can barely pull his fingers out to push them back into you.

he doesn’t let up, adding a third finger and bending his thumb to rub at your clit, and before you can say anything to let him know, the coil that’s been building in your abdomen snaps and you’re gushing around his fingers as you let out a constant stream of whines and whimpers, stumbling through your high.

if your ears weren’t already ringing from how powerful your orgasm was, then they’re ringing from hearing the praises that fall from jun’s mouth, telling you what a good girl you are for him and cooing about how beautiful you look all covered in marks.

when you’ve come back down to earth enough to continue, he sits back on his heels, pumping his cock with one hand before he lines himself up with your dripping pussy. he pushes into you, the girth of his cock creating more resistance than his fingers did but still fitting snugly inside you.

you lean your head back and moan, consumed by the feeling of being so perfectly full that it’s hard to focus on anything else but how good he feels. he waits for a moment, feeling you clench so tightly around him as you adjust to his size, and as he waits he takes the time to look at you.

your face, half covered in lipstick but your features scrunched up in pleasure in that familiar way he could see with his eyes closed. in fact, he does see it when his eyes are closed; whenever you’re not around and he recalls each perfect time you’ve had together, and he pictures the face you’re making right now and he knows how good he’s making you feel, the only one making you feel like this, and how good you make him feel, too. predictable in the very best way.

he feels your fingers lace through his hair and tug gently, and it brings him back to this moment, here and now, your eyes silently telling him—no, begging him—to move.

so, of course, he complies. his hips push against you once, twice, setting a slow but deliberate pace that has you right up at the edge already with hardly anything from him. just the feeling of him inside you is all you could ever want, all you could ever need.

you moan his name and he responds with a sharp thrust that makes you yelp but feels better than anything you’ve ever felt before. you push your fingertips into his scalp, and he speeds up, nearly doubling his pace. you clench your muscles around him and he lets out a yelp of his own, his rhythm faltering for a second but he recovers quickly.

it’s not long before his hips begin to stutter, signaling his coming orgasm. he leans forward and puts his arms on either side of your head, caging you in with his forearms. he’s so close you can feel his breath on your face, see the dried clumps of lipstick on his cheek.

he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear with his thumb before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. at this new angle you can feel him so much better, and the gentleness of his kiss is enough to make you fall apart all over again.

he captures your moans in his mouth as he pushes into you a last few times before his own orgasm hits and he’s burying himself as deep into you as he can go, your pussy spasming around him as his cum fills you up.

he collapses next to you, his cock beginning to soften inside you, and you both lay there panting for breath, sweaty and dirty and content.

it takes a while to scrub the makeup off your skin, but you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your time than throwing a makeup wipe at jun’s face and giggling as he chases you around the room, still naked. but eventually the lipstick smudges come off and a warm shower relaxes your bodies, and you help each other pull on pajamas and make a snack and a couple mugs of tea.

“are you disappointed we missed the party?” he asks once you’re in bed together, tracing his fingers along your arm.

you had completely forgot about the party, the reason you had even put makeup on him in the first place. “there’ll be other parties,” you sigh. “besides, you’re prettier than any frat boy i could ever meet.”

“with the makeup?” he asks.

“without the makeup.”

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [1.2K]

Steve knew he loved you very, very quickly. The feeling came at him fast and hard a few months in, overtaking the overwhelming ache of being so taken by you, the soft fondness that followed when you became his.

It slipped over him like a warmth, dizzying and new; because this was very different than anything he’d felt before. And he wanted to tell you - god, he wanted to tell you so badly - but he was careful not to scare you, to pile on too much emotion and feelings and intensity. It had taken a while for you to lean into his touch, to seek it out when the lights were low and you weren’t surrounded by his friends.

‘Cause they could be too loud, too bright, too much at times and Steve saw the way your nose would crinkle in disdain, the way your eyes would flash with a little annoyance when Dustin and Mike roughhoused and nudged into you too many times. Steve didn’t want to be the reason for you to look like that, to feel like that and Jesus Christ, how did you tell the girl that said she hated colour and fun and affection that you loved her?

(Steve knew you didn’t really hate fun and you definitely didn’t hate affection - not from him, anyway - and well, the jury was still out on colour.)

You definitely didn’t hate him. No, Steve knew that too. ‘Cause you looked at him with a softness that his friends never got to see, a fond look in your eyes that overtook your usual sullen gaze and you liked to hold his hand under the table, you liked to run your fingers through his hair before you fell asleep and when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, Steve would hide his smile when you pressed your face to his neck and rubbed your nose to his skin.

But love? Did you love him like he loved you? Steve didn’t know. Steve was scared to ask.

But he didn’t need to, not when you told him one day out of the blue, voice matter of fact but undeniably soft as you lay in his bed with him.

It wasn’t about sex, no, you both were dressed - even though you were mostly in Steve’s clothes - lying lazy amongst his sheets as a movie played on his TV screen and the sun outside was setting.

The macabre scene of zombies ripping the flesh of a pretty blonde girl didn’t seem to upset you the way it did Steve, the boy grimacing and squinting at the gore on screen. It gave you the chance to watch him, smile small and knowing, playful gaze giving way to that soft, fondness you could feel all over.

That sticky, warm affection that clung to your chest when you looked at him for too long, taking in his pretty features, breath caught in your throat. Long lashes, honey brown eyes, strong nose, stronger jaw, the rasp of a stubble over his cheeks that made you flush, pouty, pink lips that made you like colour.

The sun outside was low in the sky and it was dipping between the trees and the other houses in the street, peeking through the gap in the curtain in just the right way to turn him to gold. He was a hundred different shades of bronze and rose, violet and lavender shadows, eyes spun sugar, freckles lit up by setting sunlight.

Steve was as pretty as his personality; all deep and warm and a little flawed. Scars on his hands and face and heart, perfectly imperfect and you loved him for it.

Loved him.

He was moody and grumpy in the mornings, he didn’t like his coffee made by anyone but himself, he was touchy about his car and he spent too much time caring about his hair. But he was clever in a way you’d never witnessed before, logical as he was heartfelt, soft for you and the people he loved, stupidly brave in the face of danger, affection to the point of making you flustered and oh my god — you loved Steve Harrington.

The realisation didn’t make your chest pound as much as you expected it too, your breath only catching in your throat for a second before you pushed yourself further into the boy’s arms, nose pressed to the soft, clean smelling skin of his neck. You felt his pulse thrum against you, once, twice, three times, his arms pulling you into him as he yawned.

You didn’t sit up to tell him, you just lay where you were, lax and warm against his side, a leg thrown over his hip where his shirt had ridden up. On screen, an actress screamed as her arm got chewed off and Steve snorted at the spurt of too red blood.

You hadn’t said these words to anyone before, except for your parents, and even then, they hadn’t heard it from you in a long, long time. But Steve was holding you against him with his warm hand splayed against your bare back, tucked up inside his sweater. His thumb ran circles over your skin and every now and then, he’d tilt his face to yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your hair as he kept his eyes on the movie.

You’d know for a while, you’d realised. It took a while to understand it, but you got it now. You felt it. It felt like warmth and a sticky affection that clung to your heart. It felt like sunshine on bare skin, too big sweaters and summer even when it was gloomy skies. It smelled like cedar and pine and mint and boy, like Steve, like tangled sheets in the morning, hot showers at night.

It was just Steve.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice surprisingly strong. Your lips brushed his neck as you spoke and the boy shivered. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Steve sounded a little distracted, voice rough from not talking as the movie played.

“I love you.”

No one spoke. No one moved. In fact, you weren’t all that sure that Steve hadn’t gone catatonic. But he was still breathing, only just you realised, his chest stuttering once underneath you before he let out a heaving breath.

You heard him swallow, his hand roaming over your back before he clutched at your hip and turned into you, the bridge of his nose pressed to your forehead and even though you couldn’t see him, you were almost sure his eyes were closed. His lips found the high of your cheekbone, brushing so, so softly over your lashes.

His voice was a rough rasp when he finally did speak, thick with an emotion you expected but it still made you smile into his chest.

“I love you, too,” Steve murmured. “Like, a lot.”

You pulled back to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum as someone else in the movie screamed and died a bloody death. Steve was only looking at you.

His eyes were warm - so, so warm - his lips turned up at the corners like he was ready to burst, like he wanted to beam. His hand caught your waist, rough with callouses, a push and pull against your skin as he tugged you closer.

You tried not to smile, you really did. Lips downturned and voice a little huffy but your eyes were glittering and oh my god, Steve was so in love.

“Good,” you told him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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onirique-amaranth · 2 years

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⎮Two unknown travellers⎮

⏤ Characters: Aether⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: dark content, top/dom male reader, bottom/sub aether corruption, manipulation, worshipping, cock stepping, blood, minor mind-breaking, belly bulge, size kink

⏤ 8.500 words

You were sitting at the top of the inn, enjoying the fresh air as the sun goes down. You were sitting directly on the ground, criss-crossed legs as you read your book, the soft wind making the golden leaves dance around you. A person similar to a stray cat with teal fur finds its way onto your lap, snuggling into your warmth, nose pressed against your crotch, his breathless moan filling the silence. You could hear the real cats meowing down the stairs, it was unusual, but you guessed that they were just playing around.

Xiao, alias the stay cat, wiggled a bit, face pressed against your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist with a satisfied whimper. Since earlier, he never left your side for more than 10 minutes, always needing physical touch, from his hand holding yours to having his lips in contact with your skin. At this point, you were thinking that he got addicted to your touch, and you weren't that far away from the truth. He needed your warmth, so he could know you were beside him.

You continue to read your book peacefully, running your hand through his hair, and playing with the lighter-coloured locks. His hair was fascinating, so soft and always untangled. You could not help but braid his hair, similar to Venti, and surprisingly, he let you do this. The cats are getting noisier down the stairs, and you tried to see if something's wrong, but Xiao would have woken up in this case. You stay in your spot, at worst, the person would try to attack you, and you would just defend yourself if Xiao hasn't jumped in before that.

You hear footsteps, not rushed, ready light steps heading in your direction as a blond-haired man appears in your field of vision. You decide to act as if you did not see him, reading your book once again. The cats stopped hissing and left in a hurry. You could see that the person stopped at the top of the stairs, as his feet weren't moving anymore, he was looking in your direction. His eyes burn into your shoulder and torso, fixated on you and not moving for some long seconds. Slowly, you looked up, giving him a warm and gentle smile, uncertain of his reaction. And suddenly, you could see his cheeks reddening under your gaze, a shade of pink you never saw.

You moved your hand to rest on top of Xiao's hair, ruffling it as you tilted your head to the side, still looking at the man in front of you. The Traveller, Aether, was standing still, as if he did not know what to do. You observed his every reaction, from his flustered state to the little cute confused expression he had.

His gaze moved downward, stopping at, what you guessed was, your shoulder. He was stunned, looking in between you and the man on your lap, when he finally looked back into your eyes. He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you but gave up, it seems like he wanted to talk too, but he did not know how to ask his question. He stuttered a bit, his eyes avoiding yours as his hands were sweating, before asking one thing.

“Who… are you?”

You chuckled, so much time for this simple question? Your reaction made him blush from embarrassment, as he thought he looked ridiculous, but you gave him your name, smiling at him gently. A warmth spread through his body as he repeated your name, lost in his thought. Aether liked the way it was rolling off his tongue, something inside of him stirring awake, he loved your name.

“How many times are you going to say my name?”

He froze on the spot, and once again, it flustered him to no end, panicking as no words were coming out of his mouth. He could feel his heart stop as he understood how creepy it was to do this, especially in front of someone you did not know. He shook his head, trying to come up with an explanation. But that's when you raised your hand, not an ounce of annoyance in your eyes, the gentleness took him aback. You were more preoccupied with the fact that he looked ready to pass out from stress than the strange way he was acting, and you would feel guilty if he did pass out because of you.

“Come here, lay down sweetheart.”

Aether felt his heart skip a beat, the pet name and your voice alone were sending chills up his spine, and the way you patted your thigh slowly to beckon him to come closer. He stepped forward warily, as he watches you move, placing Xiao's head on your left thigh as you tap your right one. Paimon was still in their room, relaxing but if she was here, she would make fun of him and his shyness. He sat beside you and jumped a bit when your hand ruffled his hair, pushing his head down, so he could rest on you.

With your fingers running through his hair and the sound of you flipping the pages of your book again, he felt his mind becoming fuzzy, slowly falling asleep. He looked up at you, the way your face was illuminated by the ray of sunlight, softly hitting your silhouette was mesmerizing. He got lost in the sight, even when his eyes started to close, he was still looking at you with this longing gaze. He moved closer to you unconsciously, pushing Xiao away as he nuzzled against your stomach, dozing off.

You could not lie, Aether was so cute, his nose twitching anytime you would move a little too much and unknowingly taking Xiao's place. Blond braided hair shining with the sunlight, his hair looked so soft too. You could not lie, Aether was one of those pretty boys that always looked so perfect, out of this world. Your hand rubbed his cheeks, listening as he whimpers in his sleep when you draw your hand away, nuzzling into your palm when you placed it back.

You stifled a laugh when you heard Xiao's head hit the ground, Aether managed to push him away little by little in his sleep, his head now taking all the place on your lap. Xiao shot up immediately after your warmth left him, ready to kill whoever did this but froze when he saw Aether. He sends you a bewildered glare, that you ignore by continuing to read innocently.

It was funny for you until Aether moved again, with his face almost pressed against your clothed dick as he let out a low moan. You felt your cheeks burn up, and the soft sound send your heart to beat at an erratic pace. When another moan left his pink lips, your body shook, reacting in a non-innocent way.

You panic when you could feel Xiao's rage filling the air, the murderous aura hovering over the blond male. You tried to calm Xiao down, holding his hand and when finally he started to calm down, Aether woke up. A yawn comes out of his mouth as he rubs his eyes, still half asleep. He blinks slowly, getting used to the luminosity.

You thought he was safe, until, in his confusion about what was in front of him, he looked up slowly, unknowingly eyeing your abs and torso until he falls on your jaw and stressed eyes. He looks back down, understanding that your bulge was just some centimetres away from his face. It was one of his first times eyeing something that looked this big and could not help his mouth watering at the sight, feeling as if he was blessed for being able to sleep on this spot.

He heard someone almost growling behind him, and he turned around instantly. His wide eyes met Xiao's crazy ones, glowing a strong gold as he was one step away from jumping on him. Xiao's voice was strong and irritated when he told him to get off, hands clenched to keep himself from killing his friend. For Aether, that was the first time he saw Xiao being this mad, and afraid, he got up slowly, moving away from you. The second he was not touching your body anymore, Xiao was sitting on your lap, arms wrapped around your waist as his head was hidden in your neck. He was sending a raging glare at the poor confused blond boy, already missing your warmth.

Aether could understand that Xiao was someone possessive, after all, he has been alone for most of his life, but the way he was keeping you all to himself was strange. It sends an unpleasant feeling in Aether's heart as you were one of the rare people that has just been nice to him without asking for anything back. As if you were different from all the other citizens, not taking advantage of his kindness.

You did not know him at all, you did not even ask his name. But, you let him relax on your lap, offering him a protective embrace as for once, he could sleep without a care in the world. Near you, he felt safe, as if nothing could harm him in any way. For the first time, he wanted to go against one of his friends. It was Xiao's fault for being this possessive over someone that was not even his, after all.

How long has it been since the last time he felt this safe? It made him remember something he forgot since he entered this world… Your embrace was reminding him of his sister, the way she would consol him whenever he was sad or afraid. Your sweet smile, your gentle and loving touch, soothing his pain, enveloping his heart with warmth, restoring his harmed soul.

Something awoke inside of him, something strange, obscure, but he ignored it, his mind focused on you. He missed his dear sister. How long has it been since he entered this world? How long since he felt this peaceful and out of danger?

He blamed the unknown god for the pain he was feeling, for the disappearance of his sister. He did not only blame them, he also blamed everyone from this world.

He hated everyone. They never tried to help him. They were all selfish, only asking him for help before leaving him, alone and lost. He did not want to be a hero, he did not want to help everyone, and he did not care one bit.

He wanted to find his sister.

They did nothing for him except make him lose his time, they gave him nothing. He felt nothing around them, the emptiness was killing him and his mind, hope disappearing. But then, you appeared. He felt the power emanating from you, the wave of raw power almost sending him on his knees earlier. It was not a vision or your intimidating stature, it was as if a god was standing behind you. He could feel the anemo power, the geo, and hydro, creating a powerful shield around your body.

Were you a god? Were you like the other he met? Like Zhongli, Venti and the Raiden Shogun? Did you only care about yourself too?

Would you help him, unlike the others? You held him even if he was a stranger, you gave him your warmth and love, even if it was only for some minutes. You made his heart beat loudly in his chest, his hands sweat and his mind spiralling.

You could feel the intense stare from Aether, who was lost in his thoughts, but his gaze was still not wavering away from you. The man on your lap growing madder and madder by the second, ready to destroy the poor lost boy. Gently, you held Xiao's cheeks, kissing his lips before asking if he could leave you and Aether alone for a moment. He growled at you, crazy eyes piercing through your head.

Xiao wanted to make a fuss, to grab Aether's head and slam it on the ground until he would never be able to lay his eyes on you again. It was eating him up inside, but he nodded, sucking it up, not wanting to disappoint you. The thought that you could praise him for being good crossed his mind and he accepted to leave. He got up from your lap, grabbing your jaw before giving you one of the wettest kisses you ever had. He left, but not without glaring one last time in Aether's direction, leaving the said male in shock.

You watch with an amused smirk as Xiao walks off, hips almost swaying as he closes the door behind him. You covered your chuckle with a cough before focusing back on the blond. You motioned for him to come closer, since Xiao wasn't here anymore, so you could talk. He did with hesitant steps, still watching the door Xiao left from, wary.

You looked at him in pity, Xiao surely frightened him. You wanted to calm him down, but he made the first move. He surprised you when he grabbed your hands, holding them in between his gently, a strange light in his eyes as he looks at you with hope. His cheeks were red, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he asks his question.

“Are you a god?”

You're taken aback, chuckling a bit as you thought he was joking. Until you saw the hurt in his eyes, and you panicked. You apologized, explaining that you thought it was a joke, and you never wanted to make fun of him. His gaze never wavered from your face and so, you answered.

“I am not a god, sweetheart. Just a mere human.”

You see his eyes losing their soft light, showing his disappointment in your answer. Your heart broke at the sight, guilt eating you up from the inside, not knowing what you could do for him. You don't remember him being this depressed in the game.

You moved forward, holding his face in between your hands, looking at him worriedly. And then suddenly, he broke down. He started to cry, big tears rolling down his cheeks, wetting your hands before hitting the ground. He was trembling in your hold, his frail body shaking so violently that you thought he wasn't going to survive it.

The guilt and worries made you react instantly, wrapping your arms around him before hugging him. His face was pressed into your chest, making you unable to see him, as you focused on bringing him comfort, your arms protecting him from the outside world. With his face hidden, you could not see the smirk creeping its way onto his sweet innocent face. He was bathing in your attention and affection. He needed you more than Xiao, so he should understand that he wanted to steal you away, right?

After all, you were so kind, that you would not be able to say no to him. He knew that if he asked you to stay by his side for a while with teary eyes, you would without thinking, agree to accompany him. And with the plan in his head, he looked up at you, big doe eyes meeting yours as he begged. A second later, you were agreeing to go with him on his journey. As you promise to not leave him alone.

Xiao has gone crazy when he heard about it from Aether, jumping on him but being stopped by the sword held against his neck. His blood run cold when he saw the crazy look in the traveller's eyes, something so dark that he made his body shake. Aether smirked at him with insolent confidence, looking down at the Adeptus.

“You don't mind if I take him for a little while, right?

After all, I need him more than you.”

Xiao's spear was out in a blink of an eye, ready to cut Aether's head off until he heard your voice saying you would be ready in a second. His blood boiled as Aether looked so satisfied with what was happening. You left your room, your bag thrown over your shoulder as you bid Verr Goldet and her husband goodbye, promising you will come back to see them again.

When you joined the two males waiting for you outside, you were taken aback by the glacial tension between those two. Paimon was flying around you happily, complimenting your appearance as she was glad that someone as kind as you would take care of Aether with her. Immediately, Paimon and you hit off, the friendly atmosphere clashing with the tensed one next to you. Aether told you it was time to go and instantly, Xiao tugged you forward, kissing you fervently as you gave back the same energy. You whisper to him that you will call him if something goes wrong and this, reassured him for a second.

You turned around, waving before walking away with Paimon by your side. Aether walked closer to the teal-haired male, leaning forward as he whispers into his ear before leaving.

“Adeptus Xiao, you already have your god. Devote yourself to him.

And let me find my own new god in peace.”

After all, the three gods deceived Aether. But, it did not mean that he could not gain fate in another one, you were better than all those gods, he knew it. He wasn't caring anymore about futile things, your love for him was as big as his sister's love. You would become his new god, he wanted you to become powerful, be able to destroy anything and everything, and he wanted to be able to worship you. Those useless gods did not deserve so much respect, and he will make you become the only one.

Your appearance, kind smile and gentle touches could convince anyone. You were so innocent, or at least that's what he thought as he walked beside you, holding your hand with a smile. If only he could see your smirk, amused by his stupid mind, only two or three nice words, and he already trusted you. You did not mind playing the charming and kind guy for some more days, after all, he will end up like Zhongli, Childe or Xiao.

The more they love you, the less there was a chance you'll get killed. Surely, you loved Aether as a character, but it did not change the fact that any character in this game was stronger than you with a weapon, including him, and they could kill you at any time. You were just making sure to stay alive, there was nothing wrong with that, right? Most of them never received love from anyone, or never enough at least, so if you managed to give them what they were missing… You would become a necessity for all of them, and your death will not be conceivable.

Soon, some days passed, and you were roaming around with Aether and Paimon, achieving some commissions for some citizens. You noticed how he was asked more and more things, and at some point, before Paimon or he could say yes, you would refuse. Watching the person straight in the eyes, glare piercing through their body as it was clear you were mad, making them run away.

Aether could have cried from what happened, the next days, nobody asked him anything, he could just roam around without having anyone disturbing him. He had really low self-confidence and so, you took the habit to praise him. Anytime he would do anything well, you would praise him, kiss his cheek or hand.

He was craving for all those little touches, almost begging for them after any commissions, he could not stay away from you. Even with how close you grew, he never dared say your name again, almost as if it was something so important he did not have the right to pronounce it anymore. When you were meeting with new people, you never had the occasion to introduce yourself, Aether would always do it for you saying that you were called sir by everyone. It made you feel strange, but you allowed it when seeing Aether's pleased face.

Whenever the blond was doing something else, you would do the commissions for him and bring back the money, finding a new excuse every time. Your actions were noticed by many and quickly, you had a reputation as good as the Traveller's one, if not better. They knew it was useless to ask for Aether's help now since you would show up and make sure it will never happen again.

More and more people started to appreciate you, praising you for being so effective, always knowing before they could talk about what they needed. It wasn't long before most people in Liyue were saying that you were most useful than gods, more present and understanding. The rumours spread through Liyue, going as far as reaching Mondstadt, that someone was travelling around the Traveller's side, and they were doing wonders.

Aether has never been so proud, he never thought you would get loved this easily by everyone. But even if it was what he wanted, for you to become powerful and respected, something felt wrong. You were refusing for him most commissions, letting him relax and have some free time, but he rarely saw you, often coming back some hours later with the money. He followed you once and was shocked to see you do the commission for him, and the way these people were looking at you filled his heart with jealousy.

He proposes to travel together again, going far from the city to have some peace and collect materials. And that's how you packed your bag, bidding the Liyue citizens goodbye before leaving with the Traveller. The days weren't boring, you were often fighting with monsters, Paimon and her stupid ideas would bring some joyful moments, but you could not lie, not having any sexual contact with anyone for days was terrible. You thought about calling Xiao, but you looked over to Aether and a smirk made its way onto your face.

As you were walking around, collecting flowers and insects, you would let your hands slide over his hips or ass without really touching him. The touch was so light that he could barely feel it, but he knew it was here. You started to hold his hand sometimes, kissing his hand when he managed to defeat a stronger opponent. Without knowing it, you became his moral support, each word gave him the motivation to continue.

And you were treating Paimon so well, being so nice to her every time, cooking her favourite food, and he could often see you laugh together. He really started to wonder if you lied to him about being a god. Whenever he was tired, you would fight the monsters for him, destroying them in a second, the power coursing through your veins annihilating everything. Sometimes his body would give out, and you would catch him, picking him up gently and carrying him around as he could not do anything by himself anymore.

This night, as you have fallen asleep before him, he was looking at you with dreamy eyes, his heart beating loudly in his chest, reaching his own ears. His hand ruffled your hair, admiring your peaceful face. He knew it was wrong, but he did not care about his sister anymore, he just wanted to be by your side, hold your hand and cuddle against you. He was able to understand Xiao, the way he was acting toward you because he wanted to do the same now.

You groan at the feeling of someone running their hand through your hair, you moved on your back, opening your eyes to see Aether looking at you. You sat down, resting your back on the bedhead, thinking he wanted to talk to you. But he kneeled on the ground, beside the bed, asking if you could pet him. You tried to make him stand up and sit beside you, but he refused, saying he did not deserve to be next to you and nobody else did too.

With a sigh, you sat in front of him, his head resting on your thigh as you stroked his hair, undoing the braid before kissing his forehead. You were still half asleep, looking at the moon outside, the sound of the soft wind almost lulling you to sleep again. As Aether was kneeling there, acting innocently, he could not help but start to grind his hips against the ground, your touch alone made him cum. He wanted to sob, he did not deserve to be this close to his god. He spent the night on the ground beside your bed, unable to sleep correctly knowing you were so close.

Slowly, it happened more and more as he was acting strange around you, he was being so careful and respectful, almost kissing your shoes every time you were looking at him. If you ever said something about being hungry or thirsty, he had something ready for you in the next minutes. And when you came back to Liyue, everyone started to imitate his behaviour, a child even stopped beside you once, asking if you could bless him like a god would.

They were all sure you were a god, from your appearance to the elements' marks you had on your body. Your golden veins attracted many people as they could not help but try to touch them, but Aether was always there to shoo them away. Aether learned about your connexion with Zhongli and Childe, and managed to avoid them all the time, not wanting you to see them again.

One day, as you were walking around together on your free day, as you refused every commission, the cute dogs at the entrance of the city caught your attention. You could not help but pet them, letting them lick your face and run around you, asking for affection. You did murmur about how nice it would be to have a dog. And the same night, Aether showed up in your shared room with a black and gold collar. You thought he brought you a dog, and you could feel your heart swell up with love, until he kneeled, presenting his neck to you.

With shaky hands, you tightened it around his neck and watched with shock as he seemed pleased, thighs rubbing together as he looked up at you with a red face. Since then, you never saw him without it, his scarf would cover it most of the time, but you did catch him sometimes playing with it, thumb rubbing the leather as he blushed heavily.

Back to the present, you were fighting against some mages, it seemed like every time you would kill one, another would show up, and it took you a good hour to kill them all. You knew Aether was tired and so, you ordered him to not help you and go somewhere else to relax. But as you were so focused on killing them without getting injured, you did not see him looking at you from the side. Aether wanted to stay close, in case you encountered someone too strong for you, he could help you. But he ended up standing there stupidly, mouth watering as he watched you move, muscles rolling under the skin, body tensed as you cut the head of a mage.

The sweat covering your body, he observed as it made your skin glisten, the display of your power sending shivers up his spine. He almost moaned when you used your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead. And Paimon could only look at him in disbelief as he was thirsting over a fighting man covered in blood and sweat. Paimon watched as he walked off suddenly, motioning for her to stay with you as she just nodded, confused. As you just wrapped up your fight, you asked Paimon if she wanted to prepare the food with you while Aether was away, which she seemed excited for.

For Aether, just after he walked off, excusing himself for some minutes, he was leaning against a tree, his hand covering his mouth as he jerked off. His mind started to spiral as he saw you fight and get into it, muscles showing off while you were moving, your focused face as you smirked at your opponent. And the way you smiled at him the second you knew you had won this fight, so proud of yourself, almost waiting for praises. And the fact that you fought for him, protected him and looked worriedly his way to make sure he was alright.

You could be giving him the same victorious smile when you would finally get on top of him in bed, that same smirk when he would be whimpering for you, muscles rolling as you thrust in and out of him. His imagination was getting him off, your face not leaving his mind as his body tensed up, legs quivering and back arching as he came on the grass. He was panting as he dressed back up, acting as if he was not doing anything before heading back. He was greeted by the sight of you and Paimon joking around, the flying cutie floating around you with a big smile as you feed her. You turned around when you heard Aether stepping closer, handing one sushi to him with a soft smile, his heart fluttering at the view.

As he tried to grab the food, you swat his hand away, feeding him yourself. And then, you leaned forward, your lips grazing his ear as you murmured.

“You should clean your hands, sweetheart.

You still have something white on them.”

And you watched with amusement as he blushed heavily, dashing away to clean his hands, red from embarrassment as you told Paimon that it was nothing important, as you were just teasing him like always.

He became more and more perverted as time passed by, and you continued to act as if you weren't noticing everything, letting him fall deeper and deeper into his obsession. You let him wash your clothes, often noticing some of them disappear for some days, how he would sleep with his head resting on your lap, face pressed against your crotch.

One night, you were unable to sleep as you just watched through the window, admiring the sky and the stars when you felt the sleeping man move. You waited, unmoving, to see what he was doing, and you heard his feet touch the ground softly in the silence of the night, before another thud as his knees touched the ground. And he started to pray, your name rolling off his tongue with a satisfying whine, hands clasped together as he looked up at the sky.

When he finished, he took softly your hand in his, kissing your fingers and palm. Going up to your forearm and arm, not doing anything more than kisses except his incessant praises and pleas, for you to stay by his side forever. You heard him whimper, slowly turning your head to look at him, seeing how he was going to cry, hips jerking up in the air uselessly. You watched as he held your hand while grinding against the ground, his tears wetting your hand. He was truly pathetic.

He froze when your hand moved to hold his cheek gently, his head shot up, his eyes meeting yours as he cries, begging for forgiveness. With a fake soft smile, you sat up, wiping his tears away with your thumb before placing your feet over his crotch. As you whispered loving words, you pressed your foot against his cock, watching as he wailed, hips jerking up. You cooed at his desperate expression, giving more and more love as you pressed harder, confusing his mind and body. Aether was lost, not knowing if he should enjoy it or cry at the pain. He was sobbing, whimpering as his body was burning, pleading for anything and everything.

With a click of the tongue, you watched as he came over your feet, disgust openly shown on your face. It broke Aether's mind, knowing he disappointed you, he wanted to do everything but this, he stood up and ran to grab something to clean you up, stumbling on his feet. With trembling hands he wipes off the mess he created, almost instantly after holding your leg as he kissed your ankle, thanking you for letting him cum but at the same time apologizing. You could almost see his thoughts getting mixed up and lost inside his poor little head.

You couldn't lie, the sight made your cock throb as his frail body was shaking on the ground, knees almost bleeding as it scraped against the floor for so long, teary and red eyes looking up at you, begging. Did he even know what he was begging for?

You wanted to play with his mind a bit more and so, you pretended to still be mad, furrowed eyebrows and jaw clenched as you looked at him angrily. He whimpered, head down as his tears hit the ground, he was hiccuping, trying to apologize again. But with four words, his ego was crushed. 'How useless and disappointing'.

He froze, his body stopped trembling as he looked up at you with agony in his eyes. Aether felt your words stab his heart, he wanted to curl up in the corner of the room and never appear in front of you again. His god was upset because of him, only because of him, it was his fault. That's when he shot up, moving to grab his sword before kneeling again, giving it to you. He watched as you took it, looking at him wondering what he meant by that, and with tears in his eyes, he took off his scarf. He leaned forward, non-covered neck pressed against the blade, waiting for his punishment.

Without knowing it, you pushed him as far as thinking that without your approbation, he did not deserve to live anymore. Each praise only meant for him that he could continue to live by your side, but if you were disappointed, then he needed to die because he failed his task. With a sigh, you motioned for him to stand up, and before he knew it, you slashed his thigh, blood swiping out of the cut quickly.

He watched as the blood pooled on the ground, he raised his head, and his blood ran cold as he dashed forward, but it was too late. Your hand swiftly moved, slashing your own leg as your blood splattered over his panicked face. His bloody sword fell to the ground as you grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you in the eyes.

“The next time you make a mistake like this, I'll punish you again.

If I hurt you while punishing you, I will do the same to my body.”

This way, he will never make a mistake again and so, he was crying in your arms as Paimon rushed inside, panicking as she tries to patch your wounds. He slept beside you this night, cuddling against you afraid you would leave.

When you woke up the next day, Aether was clinging to you, arms wrapped around your forearm as he refused to let you go. It has gone to the point where he could not leave you alone, even at night, murmuring something about not being close enough. Nobody could approach you except him, going as far as baring his teeth to someone standing a bit too close to you.

He would feed you, help you bathe, massage you if you showed even a small sign of being uncomfortable, trim your nails and do your liner in the morning. He was devoted to you, his only purpose was to serve you. At first, Paimon thought it was alarming, as she tried to make Aether leave you, but when she saw you take care of him when he was asleep at night, the tenderness in your eyes as you watched over him, she accepted it. In less than a month, the mentality of most of the people living in Liyue changed, as they stopped believing in Morax. Your golden veins made them believe you were his successor and so, they placed their trust in you, even if you told them you had nothing to do with the gods.

As you were walking down the street with Aether, holding some bags with the items that you just bought, a loud booming voice is heard behind you. You turn around, seeing Tartaglia walk in your direction with a big smile, still half glaring in the Traveller's direction. But as he pronounced your name, everyone turned their head in his direction, screaming that he should not say the god's name out loud and Aether used the sudden movement from the crowd to escape with you.

Tartaglia could only watch you walk away again, a murderous rage coursing through his body as he was going to kill the people around him and catch up with you. But a hand was placed on his shoulder, holding him back, golden lines glowing as Zhongli could feel his palm itching at the thought of breaking Aether's skull, Zhongli was as enraged as Tartaglia. Xiao contacted him earlier to tell him what was happening, and it seemed like Aether was not ready to let you go yet.

It was becoming a chase between the four of them, as Tartaglia and Zhongli created a temporary alliance to destroy the Traveller. And you, you were just having your fun, watching four grown men fighting over something that could not be won. Next, you were planning to go to Inazuma, not really caring if you had to leave them behind. But you were sure they were going to follow you anyway.

As you got home, into the room you, Paimon and Aether shared, you feel like something was wrong. When you turned in Aether's direction, his hand were clenched tightly, nails digging into his palm, drawing blood. His mind was a mess, not only because those two pests were running after you but because he saw three marks glowing through your clothes, and it was clear to him what it was.

For once, you felt guilty as you watch him cry, hand griping his scarf as he was sniffling, not even looking at you. You stepped closer, trying to take him in your arms, but he pushed you away, your shoulder heated up suddenly when he accidentally touched the mark Xiao left. His eyes widened, and before you knew it, he pushed you violently, making you fall on the bed as he forced you to take off your shirt.

He stood there as he watched the three marks glowing with rage. Suddenly, the pieces on his clothes started to glow a strange colour as he grabbed your hand, his gloves burning. And a horrible pain followed, coursing through your body, you couldn't help but scream as it feels like your flesh was on fire. When you opened your eyes after the pain subdued, you could only watch with stupefaction the strange tattoo covering your arm, having an energy similar to the monsters of the Abyss Order. Aether looked so happy, his hand intertwined with yours as he observed your arm with a big smile.

“Now, I'm as worthy as them to stay by your side, right?”

You nodded slowly, still processing what just happened. And Aether jumped into your arms, kissing you with passion as his mind was pushed over the edge, completely and utterly broken as he forgot the reason he was here in the first place. When he touched the mark, your arm was burning almost immediately, a fuzzy feeling clouding your mind as you were unable to think correctly anymore.

You gripped Aether's hips, throwing him on the bed as you climb on top of him, choking him with your right hand as your left slid under his clothes. You watched as choked on a moan, your fingers playing with his nipple, twisting it and pinching it, observing his chest heave up and down harshly as he tries to breathe. His tongue lolls out as he pants, gripping your arm in the hope you would loosen your grip.

You laugh at his pleading eyes, moving your head down to lick the tears escaping his eyes before kissing him slowly, making him forget how your hand was moving down. He discarded his scarf and cape, struggling a bit to take off his breastplate until you almost ripped it off his body. Your hand dipped into his pants, grabbing his cock to jerk it off quickly, Aether's back arching immediately at the sudden pleasure, a loud moan reverberating on the walls.

He dug his nails into your back when you took off his pants, sending them somewhere in the room. He racked them down when you almost ripped off his underwear and spread his legs apart. He bit down on your shoulder, drawing blood when you slid a finger in, but it seemed like it slid inside too easily. As you pull it out, you noticed how your finger was covered in lube as if Aether knew it was going to happen. The laugh you let out takes Aether aback, watching your smirk widen as you unbuttoned your pants, taking out your cock.

Maybe he should be worried about your grip on his collar as you tug it to expose his pretty neck, biting down harshly as you thrust in his hole at the same time, the stretch burning, yet Aether loved it. His scream was so loud it left your ears ringing, you stretched him open, it made him rethink if his three fingers were really enough. Your jaw was clenched, he was clearly too tight around you, his small body completely covered by yours. You could only watch with amazement the bulge forming in his stomach, you were clearly forcing his frail body to accommodate your size.

You haven't started to move and yet, he was already dumb on your cock, eyes rolled back as he tried to speak. You hooked your finger on his collar, tug him forward and asked him to look down. Instantly, he tightened around you, eyes wide open as he sees your size difference, at your first thrust, he was cumming. His head rolled back as he came over himself, not even comprehending what was happening.

You waited a bit before moving again, and you teased him, watching as he could only whimper as an answer, nodding his head off to whatever you were saying, amusing you to no end. He almost mewled out as you hit his prostate suddenly, and at his reaction, you rammed yourself all the way back in, your punishing pace bringing him to another too early orgasm. But this time, you don't take the time to slow down, uncaring of his loud moans as he feels his mind become fuzzy, and he could not feel the sheets he was gripping anymore.

He was crying non-stop, babbling random words, some were 'thank you' and 'god' but the rest were inaudible. You hold his leg up, using it as leverage. And you placed your hand over his mouth as you slammed your cock inside, silencing him as you hope he did not wake up anybody. You start to pound his prostate, unknowingly making him cum over and over without a break. His face was so red, his fucked dumb expression along with the tears and drool made him look even prettier. You wanted to ruin him.

You weren't sure if you were going to last long, with how tight he was hugging your cock with his walls, you doubt you could continue like that without cumming inside at least once. You could only hear his pretty voice along your blood flowing through your body, your stomach was burning. At this point, Aether never stopped cumming as his cock keep leaking, making him lose his mind as the overstimulation was turning every little part of his brain off.

He was chanting your name now, after so many days without hearing it, your body froze as your cock twitched inside. Aether looked up at you, only to see your body trembling, your blissed-out face as you filled him up. You took a minute to catch your breath before moving again, picking up the pace as you could feel him squeeze you. His body was quivering, hips jerking up each time you would hit his prostate as he wasn't able to get fully hard again.

With a click of the tongue, you wrapped your hand around his cock, his cries coaxing you into toying with him even more, matching the pace of your thrust as you rub the tip, and tighten your grip like a vice around the base. You looked down, watching yourself moving in and out of him, a clear view of your cum flowing out of his inside every time you would pull out, only the tip remaining inside. You press your hand against the bulge on his stomach and listen to his choked sobs, body giving out as he let you do whatever you wanted.

When you felt that he was going to pass out, you would stop, waiting for him to start begging before moving again, preventing him from having a rest. Your hips kept moving violently against Aether's one, continuing to rearrange his inside as you observe his expression, making fun of his fucked out face.

And finally, you felt the knot in your stomach snap one more time, and you continue to move slowly, pushing your cum deeper into him so even after washing himself, there will still be some inside. The only way to take it out would be using his fingers to push it out. Your hand continued to move until he spilt his load all over you, cum almost transparent as you milked his cock almost completely dry earlier. You slowed down your thrusts, coming to a halt, and that's when you see Aether's body lax on the bed, completely passed out. Even in this state, you could see some drop of cum leaking out of the tip.

You were going to pull out to let his body relax, until his insides clenched around you preventing you from moving, and one of his legs moved to wrap itself around your waist. You ended up being the big spoon, holding him against you as your cock was still inside him. Your eyes closed slowly, noticing how your arm was glowing before falling asleep.

You woke up with a soft feeling around your head, looking up, you see Aether looking down at you with a soft smile, his hand running through your hair. As you look left and right, you notice how you were in between his thighs, and with a satisfied smile, you close your eyes again, enjoying the peace.

Aether lean forward to intertwine your hands, watching as your tattoo glowed under his touch, this possessive feeling in his chest being satisfied. He knew he could not have you fully, but he could at least follow you and assist you with anything. Even if you wanted to use his back as a footrest, he would do it without hesitation. His heart swells up as he watches you relax in his hold, happy that you were actually really comfortable around him.

Suddenly, the door opened and Paimon was there, saying that the ship was ready to depart. As you look at Aether in disbelief, not understanding what was happening, he gives you a soft smile.

“You wanted to go to Inazuma, right, sir?

So I asked my friends if we could go with them.

Are you proud of me?”

You chuckled at his behaviour, asking for praise again, but you are glad for what he did, so, you got up slowly, holding his jaw gently before kissing him.

“You did a good job, Aether. I'm proud of you.”

And it was enough to see his lovesick expression again as he nuzzles into your neck. With a last kiss on his forehead, you both got up quickly, and you noticed how everything was always packed up, so you could leave immediately. He surely woke up early to do this, you thank him and also Paimon before you run to the port, or more like two men are ruining, and one little thing is floating.

You jumped on the ship without a second thought, Aether and Paimon following close behind. As they weighed the anchor, the ship drifted away, slowly leaving Liyue. Unfortunately for them, they missed your departure and could only watch you and Aether leave them behind. The three men looked at each other, all agreeing to find a way to follow you.

As you were on the boat, enjoying the smell of the ocean, the seamen on the ship looked at you in awe, as they had never seen you before. Unsurprisingly, they felt like this journey will be more pleasant than all the previous ones, with someone like you with them. As you let a man take care of your bag, you hear Aether talking to someone.

You turn around and noticed a young man standing in front of Aether, some of his platinum blond hair tied in a ponytail, a single-orange steak catches your attention too. His red eyes were focused on Aether, but they would occasionally look in your direction, wary of your person. As you were going to step forward to introduce yourself, the sentence Aether pronounced made you stop dead in your tracks.

“If you don't like the current gods,

Then why don't you let him become your new god?”

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

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wolfoftheblackflames · 1 month

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Are ya misfits ready for more tasty goodness?! I sure am, so enjoy!

Dancing with the Devil: Pt. 3

It was later that day the two women were getting ready for their date, Razzle helped Charlie while Dazzle helped Vaggie. "You sure I look ok? Oh my gosh I'm so nervous..." Charlie gulped, trying to straighten her hair.

"Baaaap!" Razzle replied with a thumbs up, bringing some relief to Charlie's racing heart. How could she not be nervous? This was her first date in a while, and it's with the cutest, sweetest, most thoughtful woman in hell! Charlie swooned a little, wondering how Vaggie looked. The princess didn't have to wait long as she gulped nervously, knocking on the guestroom door.

"I'll be out in a bit!" Vaggie replied, though yelped as Dazzle tried to shoo out the angel. "Hey!"

"Baaap bap baap!" Dazzle replied in a more reassuring but scolding tone.

Charlie chuckled lightly, hearing the two bicker, however her eyes widened once the door opened. Holy shit, she was so beautiful. Charlie's throat felt dry as her heart just picked up the pace, threatening to burst right out. "W-wow..." Was all the princess could get out. Which she mentally kicked herself for.

Vaggie blinked, standing in a gorgeous black gown that had a night sky theme going on with its small gradient of purple mixed into it with her regular eyepatch on, plus a pair of beautiful deep purple heels that seem to sparkle. She blushed a bit since she had tied up her semi-long hair in a simple low ponytail. "Cat, got your tongue, princess?" She teased with a giggle.

"What n-no, I just didn't expect you to look so..." Charlie gulped as the next word left her lips with ease. "Beautiful." The princess looked away a little playing with some of her blonde hair.

Vaggie just blushed a bit harder. "You look nice too, hon.." She answered as she lightly moved back some of her greyish-white hair. She was thankful for the looking away since her cheeks were tinted a soft shade of gold right now. Charlie's outfit looked especially stunning as well, the way the off shoulder styled black and white blouse hugged her torso, the simple yet flattering black dress pants that compliment long legs and finally some adorable black dress shoes. She also noticed Charlie having an elegant braid instead of the usual dual hair ties, plus the cutest looking golden chain necklace. "Dios mío..." Vaggie whispered lightly, tugging at her own matching chain, but then she shook her head. "Shall we go?" She asked, making the blonde look back at her.

"Y-yes let's.." Charlie said a little too quickly as Razzle handed her a nice black suit jacket. "Thanks Razzle." She patted the goat body guard on his head.

"Baaap!" He replied, looking pleased.

Soon, the two headed to the limo with the goat bodyguards close behind, taking their place upfront. Charlie smiled and politely opened the door. "Your chariot awaits m'lady." She grinned trying to make Vaggie laugh. It worked as the smaller woman rolled her eye with a chuckle.

"Why, thank you." Vaggie humored her date and played along doing a small curtsy, which made both of them have a fit of giggles.

The limo ride felt long as Vaggie noticed Charlie fidgeting again. “Huh?” Worried ruby eyes met concerned ivory. “Sorry it's been awhile since I've seen the other royals..” The princess muttered a little uncomfortable.

Vaggie reached over and gently placed a comforting hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Don't be sorry. Though I am curious as to your outfit choice.” The angel asked, trying to change the subject since it bothered her hellborn best friend.

Charlie blinked a bit and smiled a little at the attempt. “Is it bad?” She asked, being a little shy. “No? Why would it be?” She heard Vaggie reply. Charlie chuckled softly and lightly took Vaggie's free hand into her own giving it a light squeeze. “Well I.. The nobles see Charlotte Morningstar the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar King of Hell and Lilith Morningstar the Queen of Hell. But to tell you the truth, it really feels suffocating to me to be referred to as such.” She started to ramble, her eyes falling to the floor of the limo.

Vaggie nodded, since the first few days she had been staying with Charlie, the princess was adamant on being called Charlie, and not her full name or title. And when she spoke about her parents, the demoness also seemed aloof when she spoke about them. “You do know I can just punch some asshole in the face for disrespecting you right? All you need to do is say the word.” She replied, earning a soft chuckle.

“Vaggie, you're really sweet, but even if you do, and fuck some of those jerks could use a good whack, it's not really worth it.”

“Te juro que eres demasiado agradable a veces…” (I swear you're too damn nice sometimes) Vaggie muttered, shaking her head. “You could use some of your authority to get people to listen to you?”

Charlie shook her head at that comment. “That's so mean though, besides I don't want people to see just the Princess of Hell part, I want them to see me, Charlie. A girl who cares about her subjects and wants to make life in Hell better.”

“Baaap!” Razzle spoke up signaling that they were here.

Charlie groaned softly but gulped since she was seeing some old friends, and one big jerk she never wanted to see again. Vaggie lightly took Charlie's hand again when the latter reluctantly released it. “We're on a date, remember?” She stated with a cheeky smirk which made Charlie's heart flutter as the two stepped out of the quiet limo and into the loud bustling ball grounds.

(Hope you enjoyed part 3, cause parts 4 and 5 are coming soon! Thanks for reading)

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #cute as fuck #flustered charlie is fun #awkward vaggie is fun #dancing #starmoth #seviathan von eldritch

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weemssapphic · 1 year

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Her Favorite Dance

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

This is basically a rewrite of the ball that Brienne’s father threw for her to find her a suitor except instead of Renly swooping in to save the day, it’s reader, because I need to rewrite canon to heal my heartbreak. I aged Brienne and reader around 16 years old here because it felt right and anything younger felt ~wrong~.

Not 10000% happy with how it turned out but that's just the way the cookie crumbles 🍪

Warnings: mentions of bullying

Words: ~2.2k

ao3 link in title

tags for those who may be interested: @afeatherformills @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired <3

The Sapphire Isle is buzzing with excitement. Tonight’s ball is thrown by Lord Selwyn Tarth on behalf of his only daughter, Brienne, in hopes of finding her a potential suitor. You are there as a family friend to the Tarth family, having grown up alongside Brienne as your father is one of Lord Tarth’s most trusted advisors.

The two of you had spent many summer afternoons by the sea, laying on your bellies as you listened to Brienne talk of becoming the first female knight of Westeros, of riding horses into battle and traveling the Seven Kingdoms. You love the glint in her eyes as she spoke, the smile that lit up her entire face. You’d watched from the sidelines as Brienne trained with Ser Goodwin, always cheering her on whenever she landed a hit.

Sword fighting is not for you - you are far too clumsy, and more comfortable in your role as a lady - but you’d always admired her for it. You know it��s an escape for her, that she’s desperate to prove herself in some way, having felt as though she failed as a lady for not meeting Westerosi beauty standards - though you don’t share her sentiments. You think she is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

You love her sandy blonde hair, the way it falls onto her cheekbones and the way she brushes it back in irritation. You often find yourself wishing you could tuck it behind her ear for her, but then you would blush and chastise yourself at the thought. You love her cerulean eyes, expressive and kind, framed by soft, blonde lashes that flutter gently like the butterflies in your stomach anytime she smiles at you for a moment too long. You love her legs, far too long for any girl of your age but it doesn’t matter, you are entranced when you sit side by side and feel her thigh brush against yours. Most of all, you love her honor and loyalty. You love that she is still kind, even when so many are so unkind to her.

The ballroom of Evenfall Hall is decked out in an opulence tonight. Tapestries line the walls, the marble floors shine in the light of the fire blazing forth from dozens of torches, bathing the room in a warm, welcoming glow that bounces off the gilded hammerbeam roof.

Dozens of young lords from the Stormlands are lined up at one end of the room, dressed in their finest, talking amongst themselves in urgent, hushed tones. At once, the group of boys stop snickering and all stand a little taller, straightening their backs a little more, their heads turning towards the front of the room.

You crane your neck to see and sure enough, there she is, accompanied by her father. Brienne wears a dress today, a rare sight. The dress is a deep shade of blue, sapphire to match the waters of the famed Sapphire Isle, or perhaps to compliment her eyes (those eyes that you had gotten lost in more than once), you aren’t sure which.

It isn’t that Brienne doesn’t look beautiful in the dress. Oh no, you think she looks radiant. It hugs her slim frame in all the right places, accentuating her broad shoulders and sending a shiver down your spine. It’s more so that she looks a bit awkward, like a fawn taking its first steps, unsure of how to move about the world just yet. Her blonde hair is slicked back, away from her face, which gives prominence to the smooth, pale planes of her cheekbones and her soft jaw. She looks up to the group of suitors lined up for her, then gives her father a glance - you can tell she is nervous, you know her well enough.

She looks out to the crowd watching her and catches your eye. You wave, smiling brightly, hoping to help soothe her nerves. She smiles back then rolls her eyes slightly, as if to say “can you believe what they’re making me do?” You only grin wider and wink at her, enjoying the light blush that colors her cheeks.

Lord Tarth and Brienne reach the far end of the ballroom and, after a short speech from the former, the ball begins. A group of singers and lutists begin to play a lively tune and the mood is joyful and light. Wine is poured and the crowd moves fluidly across the dance floor, swept up in the grandeur of the evening.

Every so often, you catch a glimpse of Brienne, and with each glimpse you find it harder and harder to tear your eyes away. Her gangling figure moves across the dance floor with practiced perfection. She can dance, she was taught how to, as were you all as young girls. Her frame only makes it look a bit clumsy as she towers over the boys chosen as her potential suitors. You are captivated by each step of hers, finding yourself wishing it were your hands on her waist, your lips upon her ear, as each of the suitors leans in to whisper something to Brienne.

Brienne smiles giddily at their words and you wonder what they could be saying to elicit such a reaction, a strange, unfamiliar jealousy gnawing at your insides with every giggle she lets out, every blush that creeps across her cheeks. You see her father beaming down at her from where he sits, pride evident on his face and you suppose you should be happy for her, if she really were to find a suitable husband tonight. Brienne had spoken often enough about how she wished to make her father proud.

A commotion to your right brings you out of your sullen trance. You snap your head around and see the group of potential suitors, waiting for their turn to dance, huddled up, pushing at one another and snickering again as they had been before Brienne had arrived. You sneak up, curious, and hide behind a nearby marble pillar, attempting to eavesdrop on their whispered conversation, which is getting louder with every drop of wine they are consuming.

“Who’s next?” “I already had my turn with the great beast!” “You should go next.” “Do I have to?” “Oh come on, Brienne the Beauty is waiting!”

Your face is hot, heart pounding sharply in your chest. You step out into the open and prepare to cuss the boys out as you hear a sharp intake of breath next to you. Whirling around, you see Brienne standing behind you, mouth agape. It’s too late. She’s heard everything.

The boys burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh look,” says the one who has just finished his dance with her. “Is the great beauty going to cry?” Brienne takes off, her shoulder bumping roughly into yours as she rushes to exit the festivities.

You can’t help yourself. Before you realize what you’re doing, you feel your hand connect with the boy’s face, leaving behind a stinging sensation on your palm. You turn on your heel and rush after your friend, just in time to see the sapphire cloth of Brienne’s dress disappear around the corner.

By the time you catch up with her at the cliffs overlooking Shipbreaker Bay, you’re out of breath and panting. She stands at the edge of a cliff, looking out at the horizon, her back toward you. She is hugging herself, arms wrapped tightly around her torso, and you can see her shoulders quivering.

“Please leave,” she says harshly as gravel crunches under your feet in the quiet of the night, betraying your presence. You can hear the tears in her voice and it tears a fissure in your heart.

“Brienne, it’s me,” your voice is low, gentle, an olive branch that you pray she will accept.

“Oh.”

“I hit him,” you offer, coming up beside her and placing your hand on her arm. Brienne looks down at you, her sniffles stopping for a moment, brow furrowing.

“Why?”

You laugh, as if it’s the most absurd question you’ve ever heard, because it kind of is. “Because he was cruel to you. Because he deserved it. He actually deserves way more than that but I wanted to make sure you were alright first.”

Brienne looks at you in wonder, tears still welled up in her eyes. Her gaze is so intense it’s almost too much to bear - you’re afraid if she looks into your eyes for just a second longer, she’ll know all your secrets, that she’ll somehow find your love for her, laid bare right there for her to see, and so you break her gaze and look out over the water. Moonlight dances on the ripples of the waves, a light breeze sends a shiver down your spine.

“You looked happy tonight,” you whisper finally, unable to hide the trembling in your voice.

Silence, save for the lapping of the water on the cliffs below.

“It seemed like you were having a nice time. The suitors seemed really nice, until the end there.”

Brienne shudders next to you.

“Yes. I finally felt like I was making my father proud.” You could hear her voice wobble.

“I think he is proud of you, in his own way. I mean, I would be, anyway.” You say this last part quieter, hoping Brienne won’t hear you, but of course she does. You can feel her eyes upon you and you refuse to meet them, training your gaze on the starry skies above you.

“They talked of marrying me. Of whisking me away to their castles. I thought maybe I could finally be the daughter my father always wanted.”

“What about you though? Did you want them and their castles?” You can’t help the question from slipping through your lips.

You look up and watch as Brienne seems to consider this for a moment. “I suppose I want to be wanted. Doesn’t everyone?” She hugs herself tightly again, hunching over slightly as if to make herself smaller.

You feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you hope desperately that Brienne cannot hear it. Your palms are sweaty, your head swimming. Your heart aches for her, you know how badly she wants to be loved, you’ve always known, and yet here you are, loving her and unable to tell her and so you think it instead. I want you, Brienne.

“What?”

Your eyes widen in shock, your stomach drops. Had you said that out loud?

Brienne’s wide eyes mirror your own. You had said it out loud. Fuck.

“I want you,” you whisper, stepping away from Brienne and gritting your teeth, steeling yourself for rejection.

Brienne’s arms drop to her side and she takes a careful step towards you. You have to crane your neck to look up at her, as she is standing directly over you now.

“You aren’t… making fun of me, are you?” Brienne asks wearily. Her eyes are guarded, her chin trembles. There are dried tear tracks running down her reddened cheeks and you suddenly feel your thumb twitch, wishing you could raise your hand to her face to wipe them away.

“Brienne…” a soft sigh escapes your lips, you reach out a hand and lace her fingers in your own. A blush blooms across your cheeks as you mull over your next words.

“I have long admired you, my oldest and fondest friend, you know this. Seeing you tonight…” your voice catches in your throat. Brienne watches you curiously, cheeks pink, blonde lashes fluttering lightly in the way you so desperately loved.

“You look beautiful.” You scratch at your neck, eyes darting to the ground. “I was terribly jealous of those stupid boys and their castles. I wished it could’ve been me, dancing with you. You know, in a way, I have always been yours.”

A low chuckle breaks the silence and your gaze snaps up to meet Brienne’s.

“And I have always been yours, Y/N,” she says, a smile finally tugging at the corners of her mouth.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“If that is so, then may I kiss you now, my lady?”

Brienne snorts at the formality, then finds herself nodding shyly.

You push yourself up onto your toes and tilt your head back and Brienne leans down, meeting you halfway to brush your lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. Her scent envelops you, fresh cut grass and the soap from the bath houses blending with the salty sea air, and no amount of pining over Brienne could have prepared you for this moment. For the feeling of finally coming home.

“Well since this is a ball, and it would be a shame for our gowns to go to waste, what do you say, Lady Brienne? Would you like to dance with me?” You grin up at her, giddy and lightheaded.

“There’s no one I’d rather dance with. I think this will be my favorite dance of the evening,” Brienne smiles widely and snakes her arm around your waist, allowing you to rest your head against her chest as you sway to a rhythm only the two of you can feel.

#brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth #gwendoline christie #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #got #x reader

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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canine conundrum | pjm (teaser)

part of the Paw Prints Academy collab! 🐾

The perfect conundrum consists of three variables: You, Park Jimin, and a golden retriever who does not give a flying fuck where he takes a dump.

pairing: jimin x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, dog trainer au, pure chaotic fluffiness, smut, minimal angst, jimin the dog trainer has a dark secret, full list of warnings in the final fic

release date: sometime in april or may!

word count: 414 (for the teaser)

note: i haven't written a proper oneshot in a hot minute! posting this rn to hold my own ass accountable to finish this fic lol. if anyone wants to volunteer to send me pics of blond jimin and golden retrievers for inspo every day then i'd be eternally grateful 🐣

For some goddamn reason, Mochi charges forward like he’s a freaking rodeo bull, ramming his fluffy little head into the back of Jimin’s knee as if there was an invisible bullseye there. Jimin’s eyes fly open the second he feels himself lose balance, and you totally would’ve laughed at the look on his face if you weren’t caught in his downward trajectory.

His hands shoot out to hold onto something, anything, but all they find is you.

Then everything plays out in slow motion, just like it did the other night. Only this time, he’s falling with you too.

“Eek!” you squeal when your back hits the couch, and you have exactly 0.1 second of relief that you landed on a soft surface instead of the floor or the coffee table, before you feel Jimin’s whole weight on you. The force knocks the fucking wind out of you - not even in a good way - but then something stills. Your breath doesn’t return to where it’s supposed to be.

You catch his gaze, and neither of you makes a move to untangle from the other.

The room goes silent, save for the light scuffing of Mochi’s paws on the floor, and the faint rhythmic drumming that you’re not entirely certain is coming from your own heart.

Jimin hovers right over you, some strands of his golden hair tickling your forehead, kissing your hairline. You unconsciously bite into your bottom lip, making his eyes dart down to stare at your mouth. His Adam's apple bobs slowly, hesitantly.

He says your name, so impossibly quiet, half a warning, half a prayer. “Don’t do that,” he mumbles, then brings a hand up to tug at your chin, making you release your lip.

“Why?” you ask.

Jimin takes a beat, just to continue staring at your mouth. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”

Oh.

It’s your turn to gulp now. As you carefully watch his face, his brown eyes turn a few shades darker, until they almost look black.

You’re emboldened by the way his gaze focuses on your lips, by the absolute want that you see in his eyes. Your hands slide up his chest, momentarily pausing over his heart to feel the beats pick up, before they wind around his neck. He lets you pull him closer, and closer, until your chests are pressed together, your lips brushing. Close enough for him to hear your words even when they come out as a whisper.

“Why don’t you?”

#jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtantheatrenet #fic: canine conundrum

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 years

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Alive

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: After you get into an accident, Jake has a hard time coping with how close he was to losing you.

Notes/Warnings: Fluff, vehicle accident (not described in detail, only mentioned), injury (not described in detail), fear of death and emotions related. Jsut another fic that was only supposed to be like 700 words. Oh well. Can anyone tell all my fics are starting to stem off each other from some detail to the next or is it just me. My creativity needs help.

Words: 1167

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How odd, he thought, to crave the sound of breathing.

He never imagined he would find himself aching for the sound of silent inhales, and even quieter exhales; waiting, listening, holding his own just to catch the barest whisper of your breath. He never thought he would be so desperate for your cheek to warm and bloom a lively shade under the influence of his softest touch. Such a simple physical reaction; one he’d grown so spoiled by, after being used to expecting it. He never knew he had it in him to dislike something as uncontrollable as your exhaustion. Exhaustion made you take your eyes away from his and forced you to hide them away behind closed eyelids. He fought with himself to remember that sleep was a necessity.

He was so needy now, greedy for those basic signs of life. To hear the sound of your breathing and feel the warmth of your skin and see the light in your eyes. He had been so terrified he was going to lose you.

Yet, having you home, in his bed, did nothing to ease the anxiety attached to that fear. And so Jake Seresin didn’t sleep.

Instead, he protected. He protected you by holding you close in your shared bed as you slept, caging you in his arms, chest pressed to chest; by letting his forehead rest against yours, your noses nearly touching; by hanging on to each of your gentle exhales and counting the beats between them.

You were his, and he was going to keep you safe.

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His name was a puff of heat brushing against his lips. It spread a warmth throughout his entire body, through each organ and every limb. He savored it, smiling as you called his name again.

“I’m awake,” he said, opening his eyes and tugging you impossibly closer.

You placed a palm on his slightly scruffy cheek, softly caressing. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Don’t worry about me, baby.”

“When my boyfriend starts to look like a raccoon because of those dark circles, I’m allowed to worry.”

He hummed and connected your lips, nibbling on your bottom one and sucking the sweetness from it. Jake rolled you onto your back and leaned above you, running a hand from the swell of your breast, over the side of your rib cage, dipping into the curve of your waist before rising over the hill of your hip. He ended at your thigh, grabbing a handful of flesh and squeezing with his fingers.

Safe, alive, right here, with me, he repeated in his head. She’s safe, she’s alive, she’s right here, she—”

“Jake,” you mumbled between his kisses.

In acknowledgement he hummed again but kept his mouth on yours, and you chuckled as best you could at his unwillingness to release you. “I love you,” he whispered as his kisses moved to your neck. More nibbles, more sucking, now abusing the delicate, sensitive skin below your ear, eliciting your little moans. Fingertips trailed up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your core.

“J-Jake, wait.” You patted at his shoulder.

Green eyes met yours. “Baby—”

With a shake of your head—ignoring the plea in the tone of his voice—you said, “You have been avoiding this every day. And I’ve let you because your methods of distraction are fairly effective, but now—”

He sighed and fell onto his back.

“—we have to talk about it.”

“No, we don’t.”

You rose up, supporting yourself on your elbow. Your free hand settled on his chest, fingers playing with the soft, darkish-blond hair there. “You have to go back tomorrow, Jake. They’re not going to give you any more time.”

He rested his hand on top of yours, brought your palm to his lips for a kiss then placed it back over his heart. “I know.”

“You’ve got naïve, arrogant pilots to instruct,” you snickered. “They need you.”

“You need me.”

“Baby, I was discharged from the hospital days ago. I’ve been sleeping, eating, healing up fine. I didn’t even break anything.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. You had a concussion. You got this,” he said, carefully running his thumb over the strips of medical tape protecting the long row of stitches on your forehead. “I have never been more scared in my life after I got that call, and you were knocked out cold when I finally got to see you. Bruised all over. You looked…” His mouth closed and he swallowed hard.

You sighed. “I know.”

Dead, he was going to say. He’d not once uttered the word, afraid that speaking it would bring too close the memory of its possible reality. In the hospital after the accident, that word tortured him. He sat by your side, his forehead resting on your forearm, your hand clasped tightly in his as you lay there, the whole time thinking of how easily he could have lost you.

“I know and I’m so sorry,” you continued, “but I’m fine, Jake. You’re the one who needs to rest now.” You kissed his forehead; let your lips linger. You kissed your way over sections of his face. The planes of his cheeks, the edge of his jawline, the tip of his nose, the plushness of his lips. “Nothing is going to happen to me just because I’m not in your line of sight. Nothing is going to happen to me while you get some sleep. Nothing is going to happen to me when you go to work tomorrow. It’s not like I can get into another car crash from inside the house.”

“Y/N…”

You gave him a chance to say more than just the silky, smooth whispering of your name. He itched to argue against what you said, but you were right, and he knew it. The class of pilots deserved to have him back. His co-instructors—his old team—despite understanding why he didn’t want to leave your side, shouldn’t have to cover for him forever, especially now that you were ok.

But when he looked at you…he just couldn’t convince himself leaving you was the best thing.

“You’re going to go to sleep, and I’m going to stay right here,” you said, snuggling your body into his and perching your chin on his chest. “Just like this, Ok? You can still have your hands on me the whole time.”

He didn’t respond, just stared into your eyes to find the concern that was so clearly on display. It was a tame concern. Not pressuring or suffocating or demanding. You simply wanted what was best for him and were so willing to do whatever necessary to get him to that place of contentment.

“Alright,” he said. His lips curved upwards at the sight of your grin, and he slowly ran his fingers up the center of your bare back, along your spine and neck, then back down. “You’ll stay?”

You stretched your neck forward to peck his lips. “I’ll stay, Jake.”

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot

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tsarisfanfiction · 17 days

Text

Family Reunion

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Apollo, Lee, Will, Michael, Cabin Seven Apollo-as-Lester wakes up for the first time in Cabin Seven. Having children older than him is just plain wrong, thanks. TOApril day 11 - First Meeting! This is set in the aftermath of an AU of mine that I haven't yet written, and for the sake of avoiding spoiling the whole premise of that AU before I do write and post it, there is a distinct lack of explanation hanging around, oops.

Apollo jerked awake, his breathing shallow and rapid while his weak, mortal body trembled and sweated in a broadcast of distress to anyone in the vicinity – and any hope that his immediate vicinity was, in fact, vacant of company was immediately dashed into tiny pieces by the gentle touch on his forehead.

It was cool, which meant that either they ran cold or Apollo was running hot (and yes, Apollo was always hot, in both senses of the word, but Lester was not, a fact he was still struggling to come to terms with). Apollo did not consider that a good sign, although the gentleness of the touch at least suggested it was no-one meaning immediate harm.

“Can you open your eyes?” they asked – a familiar voice, and while the identity of the owner currently escaped Apollo (an alarming fact, given Apollo wasn’t used to forgetting sounds, or anything at all), he was reasonably confident that it belonged to a male. “Blink once for yes.”

There was a wryness to the voice, a thread that might be light-hearted at the joke.

“What if I cannot?” he asked, cringing at the raspy slur that came out of his mouth.

“Well, you can always just tell me that,” his companion pointed out, and Apollo might feel half-deaf but he could still tell there was a new note to the voice – one associated with relief. “But given I know you’re awake, I’d rather you at least tried before giving up.”

Rather annoyingly, he had a point – and Apollo was also getting rather fed up with not being able to place the owner of the voice by aural clues alone. He knew he knew that voice.

His eyes resisted opening, perhaps basking in the chance to be lazy for the first time since crash landing in a dumpster and becoming the servant of one Meg McCaffrey, but his companion had more or less asked nicely, so Apollo persevered until his eyelids cracked open and he could make some sense of his surroundings.

The elegant ceiling was the first thing to catch his attention, simple but homely. It was also vaguely familiar, a feeling that increased as more of the cabin – because that was clearly what he was in – came into focus. Plain white walls, simple wooden bunk beds, and wide windows with heart-achingly familiar yellow flowers blooming along the sills.

“Curse of Delos,” he rasped, digging a clumsy elbow into the soft material beneath him until he could force his unwilling sack of mortal flesh into something resembling a sitting position, although perhaps a pathetic recline would be a more accurate description.

“Your flowers,” his companion agreed. “They’ve grown here for as long as I can remember.”

Finally, Apollo’s sight landed on the companion in question. A young man, tragically older than Lester’s body by a couple of years, with short, honey blond hair and eyes closer to green than blue was perched on the edge of the cot he had awoken in. His face was thin and drawn, a little too much to be strictly healthy, and there was dark shading around his eyes as though his eyelids had forgotten how not to have bags.

It was a sight that made Apollo’s already aching body ache a little bit more, because it was wrong. So much of it was wrong, more wrong than right, although he’d seen those eyes before, set into the face of a first chair violinist in the Portland Symphony Orchestra.

“Lee,” he said, the name escaping him in as a breath. His son – and the fact that his body was physically younger than that of his son’s was one of the things that was so, so, wrong – gave him a glimmer of a smile, tired and weary but a twitch of the corner of his mouth nonetheless.

“Hi, Dad,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

Apollo couldn’t help the scoff that wrestled its way out of his choked up throat, because how could anything be nice about his current situation. “Is it?” he asked despondently.

“Yes,” Lee said without hesitation. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not great that you’re mortal now, but I’ll take that over not knowing.”

He didn’t specify what he didn’t what to not know, but even Apollo’s patchy mortal memory could put together enough of the pieces that he couldn’t really argue that point.

Or perhaps more importantly, that arguing that point would only drag Lee’s mental state down further, and his son didn’t need to suffer any more.

He pushed himself up further, internally grumbling at his reluctant body as it begrudgingly obeyed. Lee’s hand dropped from his forehead, but settled on his arm instead, a cool touch to Apollo’s forearm. His son had thick, soft wrist warmers on each wrist, the flicker of gold barely visible beneath the long sleeves of his hoodie. Had he always liked those? Apollo couldn’t remember.

Instead of letting on just how many holes his memory seemed to have, enough to make his mind a fully functional sieve, no doubt, he turned his thoughts elsewhere. “Where’s Meg?”

The smile that crept across Lee’s face was fond. “Making friends,” he said. “Connor’s going to need an eyepatch for a few days, and Sherman’s going to be walking with a limp for a while after that kick to the crotch.” He sounded amused.

Apollo couldn’t say he was surprised, given his brief but intense crash course in the consequences of spending time in the personal space of Meg McCaffrey, but he had to ask. “Making friends?”

Lee’s smile grew. “Michael was the same when he was her age,” he said. “And she’s Kayla’s age. Either those three are going to tear each other to pieces, or become a gremlin trio. They’ll be fine.”

He seemed wholly unconcerned at the prospect of Meg potentially tearing apart other demigods – or other demigods tearing Meg apart. Then again, the necklace around his neck was laden with beads, reminding Apollo that Lee was as close as an expert to camp dynamics as any demigod.

The cabin door crept open and quiet feet pattered across the floor, accelerating the closer they got to him until there was another blond young man in his eyeline, this one still a teenager, although still too close to Apollo’s mortal age for comfort. “You’re awake!” he said, his hands immediately reaching for Apollo’s head. “How are you feeling? I tried to heal you, but-”

“Take a breath, Will,” Lee interrupted him gently, the hand that wasn’t still resting on Apollo’s arm coming to wrap around his younger brother’s shoulders. “He can’t answer you if you’re still talking.” Will – his hair had the exact same curl around the ears that that Texan country singer had had, this was her son – obediently silenced, and Apollo found himself the recipient of twin expectant looks.

If he hadn’t already known the two of them were brothers, he would’ve realised then. Lee’s eyes were greener than Will’s pure blue, and of course he was about five years older, but the look was identical.

“I ache,” he admitted, his voice whining pathetically. “I have acne and flab.”

“Welcome to mortal teenagerhood,” Lee said wryly, as Will gaped. “Will, want to give him the rundown?”

“Swollen nose but not broken,” Apollo’s younger son – and Olympus he was not going to be getting used to this teenage son being a similar age to his body, let alone the son that looked to be more or less out of his teenager years and into full adulthood being obviously older – reported. “Your ribs were cracked but are healing well, and your vital signs are all good for a mortal.” His voice broke on the last word, and to Apollo’s alarm, his eyes started to dampen. “I gave you nectar,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I didn’t know- your lips started smoking-”

Lee tugged him closer, rubbing his hand along Will’s arm. “We didn’t know,” he assured him quietly, but that didn’t stop Will’s lip from quivering. “It’s not your fault.”

Apollo distantly hoped that that explained his fire-and-brimstone-esque nightmare.

“I take it Meg didn’t think to tell you,” he said instead, and got a fond head shake from Lee.

“I think she was too busy screeching at us to remember to give medical critical information,” he said. “Connor and Sherman winding her up didn’t help.”

“She’s waiting outside,” Will added. “Along with everyone else.”

As if on cue, the door slammed open, the person responsible clearly not particularly caring that Apollo might have still been passed out. It was exactly the sort of behaviour Apollo thought Meg would be capable of, but while the height of the figure was about right, the black hair was too long, and there was a distinct lack of glinty rhinestone glasses.

They were also, unmistakably, another boy.

In his wake trailed several other figures, all taller but something told Apollo they were all younger, too. It might have been the impressive collection of beads around his neck, or – and Apollo was going to persuade himself it was the second option – his memory wasn’t so terrible that he didn’t recognise more of his children, even if some of the newcomers were also the same age or older than his Lester-body.

It took him longer than he liked to put names to faces, but at least they did come, before he had to face the awkwardness of admitting he’d forgotten any of his children. The two African-American boys, both in their early teens and blessedly younger than Apollo’s current state still, were Elias and Austin – Elias with the long locs, and Austin with the intricate cornrows – while the third boy, the one with a permanent limp and a strangely-dangling jacket sleeve, to say nothing of the trio of slashing scars across one side of his face, was Nathan. The older girl, liberally freckled with her hair dangling in brown bunches, was Joy, and he was pretty certain the youngest of the group with hair the colour of Greek fire was Kayla.

Then there was the oldest teenager at the head of the pack, striding forwards with all the confidence of someone that was going to get his answers, regardless of anyone else’s wishes – or Apollo’s injuries.

Michael came to a stop next to Will, flanking his younger brother and just about in arm’s reach of Lee if the young man chose to reach out any further, and Apollo found himself fixed with an unimpressed look.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

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