#like why can’t you see that!!!!!!! why can’t you meet me where I’m at and understand that!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cutielando · 2 days

Text

we can’t be friends, part 2

a/n: the highly requested part 2 of we can’t be friends is finally here!!! again, this is super rushed because i wanted to post it as soon as possible for you guys, so forgive me 🥲

also, part 3? 👀

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando had never before considered himself a “lucky” man. He was always of the belief that things just kind of…happened.

But when he saw you in the paddock on that one particular day, after months of being away from you and only watching you from afar, he thanked his lucky stars.

That was part of the reason why he couldn’t resist coming up to you, introducing himself with only one thought in mind: I need to get her back.

You hadn’t known why the feeling of his hand in yours felt familiar when you shook his hand, why the tone of his voice made tingles arise on your delicate skin, or why his smile and dimple seemed like something you had seen before, seemingly in another life.

Something in your gut was telling you that you had met him sometime before, but you just couldn’t figure out where you knew him from.

Which Lando was grateful for.

He had realized he hadn’t been a good boyfriend to you before, he could see his mistakes and what he should improve now. He knew what he had to do.

After the fateful meeting in the paddock, you started bumping into him more and more.

At the grocery store in Monaco, at the museum where you were strolling with your sister, at the hair salon, at the nail salon, he seemed to be everywhere.

You didn’t think anything about it at first, telling yourself that Monaco was a very small place and coincidences were bound to happen.

But you gradually began to feel like it was not the case, and you settled for confronting him to get to the bottom of the problem.

“You’re following me” you had caught him yet again, seemingly trailing around the flower shop where you usually spend your mornings.

Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before he settled for shaking his head.

“Bumping into me once or twice is a normal coincidence, but you’re everywhere I go. I turn around and you’re there, like a ghost. Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re starting to creep me out” you said, making sure to keep your distance from him.

Lando’s heart began hammering in his chest, panic quickly settling in his body.

This was not how it was supposed to go down. You were meant to find it cute, endearing even, but he couldn’t have you thinking that he was a weirdo, not when he was desperately trying to make you fall in love with him once again.

How was he supposed to win you back if you thought he was a total creep?

“I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise. I just didn’t know how to approach you without being awkward” he tried to explain, realizing he sounded even more like a creep.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you figured following me around was the solution?” you had to admit that seeing him flustered and trying to explain himself was becoming funny to you, any trace of annoyance long gone.

You couldn’t describe the feelings you had whenever you were around Lando. There was a foreign sense of familiarity every time you would talk to him and whenever you would be near him. Like your body was already used to being around him.

“No, no. God, this is so not how I wanted this to go down” he murmured the last part to himself, but you heard him nonetheless.

“Look, as much as I might find this stalking of yours kinda cute in some twisted way, what’s really going on here?” you asked, crossing your arms one on top of the other.

He sighed, hanging his head low. Should he just be honest about why he was following you? Tell you about everything you had done so much just to forget? Should he just lie and truly start from scratch?

There were so many questions clouding his judgment, dozens of ideas and excuses floating around in his brain.

But in the end, he decided that wiping the slate clean was his best bet. You would never agree to go out with him if he even mentioned how your previous relationship had ended, that he had hurt you so much that you chose to completely forget everything about him and your relationship.

He didn’t want to risk a new beginning by plaguing it with events from the past.

“Okay. Truth is, I really like you, and I wanted to ask you out but couldn’t seem to find the words to do it. You’re gorgeous and kind and nice and I didn’t think you would want to go out with me, given what the internet has been saying about me” he confessed, scratching the back of his head in fear of what your reaction would be.

Once upon a time, he could read you like the back of his hand, knowing your every little tic and every tell. He knew every single thing there was to know about you, but as you stood there in front of him, he felt like he didn’t know you.

Even while you smiled at him with that same smile he had come to love over time, you were not the person he had left behind. You were someone else entirely, only the memory of you hiding behind your eyes. But was it wrong that it intrigued him? That it made him want to get to know you again so badly?

Maybe. But he didn’t want to resist it any longer.

Finally looking up at your eyes, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the smile he loved vibrantly shining on your face, a sense of familiarity filling his chest.

“I don’t care what the internet says about you, I want to get to know the real you. People can have their opinions of you, I want to have my own” you said, stepping closer to him.

Lando felt like he couldn’t breathe. Having you so close to him after so much time apart made him want to lose his composure and just kiss the life out of you, but he couldn’t.

No, he wanted to do it right. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again.

“What are you saying?” he asked, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t misinterpret anything.

“I’m saying that you should give me your number” you said, trying to suppress the smile that was inching towards your lips.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this. Accepting to go on a date with a guy that basically followed you around, asking him for his number? You were never that irresponsible when it came to dating, so why was he so different right now?

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something deep within you which was screaming at you to trust him. There was that sense of comfort that you felt whenever you were around him ever since the two of you bumped into each other, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. How could you feel so at ease with someone you had just met?

It was weird, definitely worrisome if you were being truthful with yourself. But then again, what harm could it do?

Lando had never taken out his phone as fast as he did in that moment, almost dropping it in the process, which made you laugh a little.

Seeing him so flustered made him blush, almost embarrassed that he couldn’t keep his act together.

He gave you the phone in the end, and you put in your number and the name y/n💕, giving him the phone back and leaving, kissing his cheek as you passed by him.

Lando felt like he was dreaming as he felt your lips touch his skin, however briefly the contact had been. And unbeknownst to you, you were biting your lip and blushing as you walked away from him, eagerly waiting to get a text from him.

And thankfully, it was merely an hour later when your phone dinged, and the butterflies started acting up once again.

♡♡♡♡♡

The moment of your first date with Lando had arrived after texting back and forth for a couple of days, and it was safe to say that the both of you were freaking out.

You, on one hand, were freaking out because it felt like you hadn’t been this excited about going on a date in forever. Lando, on the other hand, was freaking out over wanting to make sure he didn’t screw things up the second time around.

The nerves that he felt as he waited in front of your apartment building were nothing like he ever felt before. He hadn’t even been this nervous when you two went out the first time all those years back. But as he stood there, flowers in hand and yet another gift in his pocket, he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

That was until you finally appeared, dressed in his favorite dress of yours, sandals and curly hair, smiling from ear to ear when you saw him waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late, couldn’t decide what to wear. Have you been waiting long?

Lando’s brain froze for a split second. Had he been waiting there so long that he didn’t even notice you had been late? Taking a quick peek at the watch resting on his left wrist, he realized he had been standing in front of your building for more than 20 minutes.

“Um, no. Just got here like 5 minutes ago” he lied, content when he saw the relieved smile you gave him. “These are for you” he said, holding out the flowers towards you.

You took the bouquet from him, blushing once you noticed that he had bought you your favorite flowers.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” you asked, bringing the flowers up to your nose and inhaling the sweet aroma.

He shrugged, and left it at that. He couldn’t really tell you how he knew they were your favorite, so he figured he shouldn’t say anything else.

The night went by beautifully, the conversation flowing as if you had known each other your whole lives. The laughter you shared was natural, you felt so at ease while talking to him.

As the end of the night grew closer, you were walking hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Monaco, a comfortable silence between the two of you. You had never felt at ease with anyone else in your entire life, yet here you were, feeling more at home with Lando than any other person in your life besides your family.

“Thank you for tonight” you said, smiling sadly once you arrived in front of your building.

Lando smiled, stepping closer to you.

“It was my pleasure” he whispered, the distance between the two of you almost non-existent.

He looked you in the eyes as if he was asking for permission, and the second you nodded he leaned in and kissed you with everything that he had, making your knees go weak and almost buckle.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and started playing with the hair at the back of his head, almost accidentally letting out a moan at how good his lips felt on yours. Every inch of your body was on fire, your senses tingling as you got lost in the feeling of Lando.

Lando, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions. Even though he had been waiting for this moment for so many months, he felt guilty. There he was, using the fact that you had no memory of your past relationship to win you back. Was he being selfish?

Should he tell you the truth about the past?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

236 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 3 days

Text

Part 5

(Told y'all I was back!!!)

Content: Established BDSM Dynamics, Attempted Intimidation, Threats, Mild Violence and Injury

You suspect Konig gets off on watching you interact with others.

He’s an insecure man, there’s no doubt about that. He gets twitchy about other men interacting with you beyond brief, bland exchanges. A sleepy cashier at the grocery store? That’s fine. The waiter complimenting your choice of meal for some reason? Konig’s eyeing the steak knife.

That said, something about the way you are in a public setting has him constantly shifting. Practically squirming. And it’s not just social anxiety.

You smile at the employee that showed you where the towels are and Konig adjusts himself as soon as their back is turned. You politely brush off a mistake in your food order, his pupils spread like an oil spill.

You ask him about it one night, ever curious about this strange, obsessive creature clinging like remora.

“You are… very nice to people,” he explains slowly.

The two of you are doing a puzzle. You watch his big, calloused fingers fidget with a border piece. He’s forgotten to hand it to you while thinking, but you’re not in any rush.

“You are good at being… normal. No one knows that you are a killer. They can’t tell.”

You snort softly. “I am normal.”

He shoots you a skeptical look and you laugh. (Don’t miss how he flusters either.)

“Am I that different here than out there?” you wonder.

“Yes.”

You hum. Have never really considered that, but it makes sense. In privacy, you have nothing to react to. No faces to make or scripts to follow. You have Konig now but he’s different, there was never a reason to treat him like everyone else.

“So what about it arouses you?” you finally ask.

“That they don’t know.”

You don’t understand. You hardly ever do. You’re extra nice to the poor teenager that prepares your coffee next time you two go out. (You make Konig edge himself on the drive back home, then overstimulate him to near unconsciousness on the dining table.)

It’s not surprising, then, when he shyly asks if you’ll come meet some of his KorTac teammates.

He asks with his face smooshed between your thighs, nose crushed against your pubic mound. Just getting started, the taste of you already clouding his thoughts. The toe of your boot is nestled beneath his heavy balls; his voice pitches up proportional to the bend of your ankle.

“Why?” you ask, flat and emotionless. It makes him drool when you bleach the inflection from your voice, stripping it down to phonetics and fricatives. A drop of saliva trickles down your thigh. You twist your fingers in his hair, making him lick it up. (“Keep it tidy,” you’d told him. So far he’s barely managing, but he gets off on the struggle to please you.)

He mumbles something you can’t make out, so you force his head up and watch him blink. His swallows thickly, chin already glistening with slick, pink tongue lolling out across swollen lips.

“Again,” you command. Calm, even.

“I w-want them to meet you… if they can tell…”

You tilt your head. “If they can tell I’m a murderer?”

He whimpers, teeth sinking into his lip hard. You hitch your boot up, watch the tears collect in the corners of his eyes. Precum drip, drip, drips down his stomach from the vivid, weeping head of his straining cock.

“Is that all? You want me to meet your little friends with blood on my hands?” you coo.

He tries to nod, but your grip is far too tight. You click your tongue off the roof of your mouth. His hips jerk with the derisive sound.

“Or is it that you want to show off your owner?” you wonder. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. You huff in amusement as the pieces click into place.

“I see now.”

You cram his flushed face between your thighs again, grinding your pussy on the flat tongue he instantly presents.

“You want me to be a pretty, sweet thing. You want to show me off in some frilly sundress and play helpless civilian. I’ll shake their hands and they won’t know I’ve ripped a man’s guts out. I’ll smile pretending I haven’t bit someone’s finger off.”

He’s whining high and needy, rocking himself on the laces of your boots. You continue, rambling in a way you never do outside these moments.

“And you want me to do all that with my collar around your throat.” You press his face in tighter and close your thighs. “Maybe I should stab someone, huh? I’m sure I can find someone worth the effort.”

You feel the hot pinpricks of tears on your skin, his voice uncontrolled and breaking with desperation. He’s now arching his hips away and you know it’s because he’s trying not to cum. It’s a new rule you just recently established - that if he’s allowed access to your cunt, he gives it his full attention. Treats it like the rare and fleeting privilege it is.

All that just from your little tease.

The image is an intriguing one. You’ve never taken any pleasure from hiding your actions from others. But there is something almost… quaint, you suppose, about meeting men who kill for a living as a killer yourself. They’ll look at you and see Konig’s quiet civilian girlfriend. This will be a secret just for you and Konig. You’ve never had someone else know while you play a part.

An unexpected wave of pleasure knocks the breath out of you. You didn’t expect to find the prospect so…

“Fuck,” you whisper, blinking through stars. “I’ll meet your friends if you make me cum in the next thirty seconds.”

It takes him thirty-two, but considering the intensity of it, you decide to be generous.

You show up to base in a floral-print dress and pretty sandals. The key to Konig’s collar shines in the hollow of your throat on a dainty chain, prominently displayed. (His eyes keep skipping down to it. You pinch his thigh when he nearly misses a red light, chastising to be more careful. That only results in a plump outline down the thigh of his pants. Your mistake.) Hair done, a bit of makeup, you make for a nice character.

The head of Konig’s squad meets you first. Declan O’Conor, a shorter man who introduces himself with a wide smile, a rough Irish accent, and - most favorably - no appreciative glances at your body. Off to a surprisingly commendable start. You smile back and let Konig introduce you, eyes roaming the private KorTac compound.

Sleek black vehicles, modern-looking buildings. Distant pods of joggers on what looks like a training field. Even more distant sounds of guns. Passing personnel. Some of the men doing double takes, a couple of nudge-nudges. There’s not much of interest to you.

Declan shoos the two of you off after some pleasantries and an idea of where to find other members of Konig’s main squad.

You meet Aksel, Roze, Horangi, and Stiletto playing cards in one of the rec rooms. Roze teases Konig about finally bringing you ‘round. Aksel takes the initiative to stand to greet you - unnecessary, but not offensive. While his back is turned, Horangi peeks at his cards. You make eye contact with Stiletto when she notices as well and twitch your lips in a tiny, knowing smirk. Neither of you say a word.

Only two of them (Horangi and Roze) are on Konig’s usual team, but he’s worked with the other two before. You’re more interested in watching Konig interact with them. Like you, he tends to let others lead conversation in public - though the reasoning is different. At home, though, he usually initiates and you enjoy letting him talk and talk, only chiming in when asked for your opinion or reaction (or lack thereof).

Though you’re not left completely unincluded - the other KorTac members ask polite surface questions that you respond to automatically. It’s all habit, a performance you’ve given a thousand times, a veteran actor. You’ve perfected volume, pitch, inflection, spaces, down to the shape of your mouth as you speak. Your face is easier. People are good at expressions - too good. You hardly have to do anything to express easy-calm-friendly. Relaxed brows, a slight curve at the corners of your mouth, loose jaw. There: Konig’s normal, if shy, girlfriend.

When the two of you leave the rec room, Konig pulls you down a little side hallway and kisses desperately along your jaw.

“You are so good…” he mumbles breathlessly, “...so good at pretending.”

You snort, bemused. “Is that what it is?”

This is just being a person, out in the world. No one is their true selves around strangers, you thought. Is it so different when it’s you doing it?

He groans softly into your throat, mouthing at your necklace. “This will be harder than I thought.”

“We’re not fucking here,” you say.

“Yes, miss.”

You let him hide there for a moment longer, then usher him along to the next thing. He does manage to give you a decent tour of the facilities, telling you stories and explaining how KorTac does things.

You meet Hutch along the way, just a brief greeting in one of the halls. Again, not a usual member of Konig’s team but they’ve worked together before and Konig is full of pride and enthusiasm to show you off. (Maybe you’d be annoyed if his presentation was more “look what I bagged” rather than “look at who found me worthy”.)

It’s as he’s showing you one of the briefing rooms that you meet Krueger.

And you know, instantly. From the slow, exaggerated twice-over, to the obvious way he shifts his lower half, eyes lidded. You feel the mask of the day slip.

“Is this the tail you’ve been chasing instead of your own, Bruder?” he asks, sauntering closer. He could say it in German - but he wanted you to hear it.

You blink once, slow.

Konig, at your side, hisses an embarrassed correction. Even with that ridiculous hood on, you know his face must be burning. You take a single, small step forward, meeting Krueger as he sidles up too close to be appropriate. You introduce yourself without offering a hand.

“Do you know what it is we do here, little girl?” he taunts. “What your boyfriend does?”

“Yes,” you answer.

“You know he is a sadistic fuck, eh? Can break a man’s spine over his knee.”

“It’s impressive,” you admit, shrugging.

He narrows his eyes, but it seems more mocking than challenging. He doesn’t think you are anything to take seriously. An interesting bauble to bat at and toy with, to see if you’ll jump or squeak for his entertainment. He cracks his neck and takes another step, the netting that hides his face playing shadows across what little skin is visible.

“Has he told you about me?” he asks, voice dipping.

He has. “Only some.”

He looms in closer, radiating menace. He’s a broad man, makes up for height with presence alone. Objectively intimidating, you suppose.

“Trying not to frighten you,” he coos, “what a sweet boyfriend.”

You hum, noncommittal. Not even sure if you can feel fear while conscious. In your nightmares, it’s visceral enough to taste - but it only ever lingers on the back of your tongue once you wake. After all, there’s nothing to fear among the living. Not anymore.

“Is there something to be frightened of?” you ask.

“I could tell you such tales,” he croons, bending his head to speak low and intimate. “Maybe even a demonstration… of the things they accuse me of…”

You see the flicker of his hand in the corner of your eye.

“Don’t touch me,” you warn.

He laughs, rust and dried blood. “Or what, little mouse?”

“You’ll regret it.”

You hear Konig shift behind you, though you can’t tell if it’s in preparation to intervene or out of pure arousal. Perhaps both.

“Is that a threat?” Krueger mocks.

You are under no delusions that you’re better equipped for a fight than him. He has more experience and training, he’ll win in an altercation, that’s just a fact. But you don’t have to win, that’s not what you’ve promised. You’ll just make him regret starting it in the first place.

You look him in the eye.

“Yes.”

His fingertips skim the strap of your dress. You lunge, slamming your forehead into his nose. It crunches. He jerks his hand back, instinctively reaching for his face, folding a bit. Point made, step back, adjusting your necklace into place again.

And then Konig reaches past you, snatching the shoulder of Krueger’s shirt and shaking him hard. He snarls out something in German, sending Krueger to his knees.

“I am sorry, miss,” he says to you fervently, “I am so sorry. I did not think - he is an asshole. I am sorry.”

You pat his arm, lean past his hulking form, still gripping Krueger now on his knees. You curl your fingers in the netted mask and jerk his head forward.

“This is the best way to stop the bleeding,” you say. “Don’t be rude again.”

He gurgles something out, you can’t even tell if it’s English or German. You release him and turn on your heel.

“The range is next, right?”

Konig is at your side instantly. “Yes, miss.”

You meet the last of Konig’s regular teammates outside the range. (You had to cut that little excursion short. Even seeing you with a gun in your hands had his knees shaky. You got through one magazine before he was making noises in the back of his throat. It took fifteen minutes for his erection to deflate a reasonable amount.)

He’s a big man, covered from head to toe in black tactical gear - again, with a mask. Coming in with a sniper rifle over his shoulder as you and Konig are leaving. His name is Nikto. You meet his eyes as you smile and nod in greeting, Konig introducing you like before.

Maybe you haven’t quite sunk back into your Normalness yet, or perhaps Not Quite People recognize each other. But he takes one look at you and knows. You know too.

Apropos nothing, he offers you a wicked knife, hilt first. Your fingers don’t touch as you take it.

“For your next hunt,” he rumbles. “Konig is lucky.”

You blink as he walks off, glance at the blade in your hand. “It’s nice.”

Konig fidgets, staring after Nikto. “How did he know?”

You shrug.

Konig turns back to you, nervousness swirling. “Are you worried?”

You snort. “No.”

Why would a bear bother a mountain lion?

That night, you lay Konig down and grind your dripping pussy along the rigid length of his cock. He twists his fingers tight in the bed sheets (you already hear them tearing; you have spares for this) and cries while you recount every part of the day as if he wasn’t there with you. He’s stark naked, vulnerable, trembling while your dress drapes over your thighs, obscuring the obscene view of his cockhead rubbing your puffy clit.

He begs in intervals but you just keep speaking over him, recounting needless details like building names and the food served in the cafeteria. When you reach the end of the visit, you lean down. Propping yourself on his chest, you speak soft and syrupy warm into his ear.

“You did so well handling Krueger today. Such a good boy, keeping him down for me. I’m proud of you for knowing to wait. My good guard dog.”

He dissolves into a puddle in seconds, weakly asking permission to please, please, please let him cum early just this once.

You let him.

In gratitude, he eats you out until you fall asleep.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #cod konig #konig x reader #pathetic stalker konig #rabid reader #in love with a fever fic #heavy kink

297 notes · View notes

noyasmashing · 17 hours

Text

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 ˖ ࣪ ∗ ❀

cw: pegging, hair pulling, crying, sub!kenma, gn!reader

a/n: draft from forverrrr ago but i have to post it in honor of the haikyu movie

He hated it. He despised sensation of sweat trickling down his body as his back arched to meet your thrusts. Kenma had always detested physical activity, which is precisely why you relished making him work for it, watching him bounce uselessly on your strap as you mocked the way his cock slapped against his stomach.

Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, and moans escaped his chapped lips. He voice came out in horse cries as your hands gripped his hips rather harshly. “Apologize, Kozume,” you commanded sternly, looking up at him. He shook his head, his bottom lip trembling. Yet he continued bouncing on your lap, sloppily and uncoordinated, squirming under your grip.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” you mused, searching his face for any emotion. He refused to apologize, knowing any sort of speech would bring on the tears he hated. But you didn’t care about that now. Roughly, you flipped him onto all fours, now getting to see the breath taking sight of his ass. Despite his slurred protests, he arched his back, presenting his pulsating hole for you to use.

“P-put it back in,” he pleaded, wriggling his hips toward you for more friction. “Not until you apologize,” you replied, choosing to tease him by running your slick strap between his cheeks. His body felt hot, the tips of his ears reddened even with his face hidden. “’m sorry,” he whined into the pillow, but you clicked your tongue, unsatisfied with his weak apology.

“Louder,” you urged, knowing the volume he could actually reach. He hesitated, then looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as your stern glare conveyed everything. He stifled a moan as you teased him with a gentle thrust near his hole. “I-I’m sorry for being an ass, please [name], f-forgive me,” he forced out, trembling under your grip.

You hummed, pausing for a moment that felt like an eternity to Kenma before finally ramming your length back into his wet ring of muscles. He moaned in satisfaction, thinking he got what he wanted. But the pleasure soon turned to overstimulation as you continued pounding him roughly. Usually you would keep a slow pace, showering him in praise as he got adjusted to your girth. But this time was different. His hips tried to escape your merciless pace, but you quickly stopped him. A string of nervous gasps escaping his cracked lips.

“Where do you think you’re going? If you can’t apologize properly, I’ll make you wish you could.”

“It’s too much—it’s too much,” he whined, gripping the sheets below him in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Despite his words, you saw the way he looked back at you with his mouth agape, eyes half-lidded, his cock surely weeping on his abdomen.

“Touch yourself, baby,” you encouraged warmly, but he just shook his head. You sighed, trying to be nice, but he was being such a brat. Maybe he’d learn his lesson if you were rougher. Releasing one side of his hips, you reached up with your free hand to pull his hair.

He gasped sharply, then whimpered as you pulled back. His moans were no longer muffled, and he could hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping together more clearly now. It all added to his pleasure, and the coil in his stomach started to unwind. Even in his delirious state, he knew better than to come without asking. “C-can I…” You cut off his plea, already knowing what he was going to ask. “No, only good boys get to come when they ask.” He sobbed at that.

Covered in sweat, he couldn’t bring himself to protest. You tightened your grip on him, continuing to pound relentlessly. He was fully crying now, hands shaking as he resisted the urge to fist his cock. But he was so needy, pre-cum leaking uselessly from his tip. You could tell what he was thinking and smirked. “Go on, touch yourself, and I’ll let you come.” He looked back at you, wary of your leniency.

“You mean it?” he asked shyly. You nodded warmly. “When have I ever lied to you?” With that, his hand found its way to his puffy tip, small nervous strokes causing his whole body to shake with pleasure. Your grip on his hips lifted his lower half practically off the bed. He felt weak, coming without hesitation when a “go on” left your lips.

He moaned loudly, his voice cracking into the pillow as his milky white release sprayed onto himself and the sheets.

To his disappointment and pleasure, you didn’t stop. In fact, it felt like you sped up your thrusts, maintaining their rhythm without faltering.

“We can’t stop now. I have to make sure my baby learns his lesson.”

158 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 day

Text

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

[ ACT ONE HERE ]

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.

summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’

MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS

“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”

“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”

“We weren’t . . . “

As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.

I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?

They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.

Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.

You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.

He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.

If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.

Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.

He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.

Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.

It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”

And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.

He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.

And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.

“Hey, [N/N].”

The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.

“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.

And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.

Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.

You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.

Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.

“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.

You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.

“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.

“Meet Fishbones.”

BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:

Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?

You could tell he was pulling his punches.

Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.

You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).

“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.

That was one of Bruce’s buildings.

“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”

“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.

Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.

His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.

He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.

He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.

What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?

"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.

Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.

“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.

Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.

“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.

No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.

“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.

“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”

And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.

You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.

“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”

“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”

Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills

130 notes · View notes

thetarttfuldickhead · 2 days

Text

Okay, so while aware!Roy and oblivious!Jamie isn’t necessarily my main hc for these two, never let it be said I’m not prepare to play around with notions for the funny hell of it. So when I saw the above-linked post by @roykentschesthair, I immediately started thinking about post-S3 Roy knowing that he’s attracted to Jamie, and knowing that Jamie is attracted to him as well.

Jamie knows neither of these things.

Eventually Roy starts to nurture the idea that maybe him and Jamie should act on their mutual attraction, just to, you know, see where it leads? Given that they’re already best friends and that they’re obviously very into each other physically (even if only one of them realizes it that at this point), getting together could well lead to something pretty amazing, yeah?

Only, there’s the fact that Roy is Jamie’s new gaffer and while there’s strictly speaking no rules about a coach dating his player, Roy strongly feels that it might be just a little bit iffy for him to proposition Jamie. Like he’d be taking advantage. Putting undue pressure on the lad. Now, if Jamie were to proposition Roy, however… Well. It’d still be iffy, but Roy can live with that.

Unfortunately Jamie is utterly clueless about being into men in general and into Roy in particular. Cue Roy trying, with mounting frustration and desperation, to rouse Jamie to the fact that he is in fact not just vaguely appreciative of the male form in a stricly professional manner. Attempts might include choosing certain films for their occassional movie nights and dropping less and less subtle comments during them, as well as increasingly suggestive exercises during the private training session they still do twice a week. Roy has, however, already been far too weird about those exercises, so nothing he throws at Jamie seems to faze him even a little, or lead to any revelations.

If it weren’t for the fact that she’s already been very clear on never wanting to mediate their bullshit, he’d ask Keeley to have a word with Jamie, bisexual to bisexual. Maybe he’ll even brave it, because he. can’t. do. this. for. much. longer.

In the meantime, Jamie is pleased as punch that Roy is giving him even more attention than before, and no, Isaac, of course it ain’t weird that he tied me up like that, it’s to strenghten my core, yeah? Felt dead good, too, you should try it.

(Bonus point if Jamie once the other shoe finally drops immediately goes to Colin for help on downloading Grindr and maybe taking him to a gay bar and act as wingman while Jamie explores this new side of himself. Colin looks up to meet Roy’s death stare across the dressing room, and immediately invents like a million excuses why he can’t, not tonight, and probably not tomorrow, or ever, actually, sorry, Jamie.)

#i am always willing to play with temporary notions #as long as they bring joy #and this very much does #so thank you roykentschesthair for the original post i love it #i have done so much oblivious!roy i can afford to let myself have some fun with oblivious!jamie #one of the thing i appreciate about ted lasso is that you can go very serious or very silly #and both will feel like it’s in keeping with the show #also shout out to pghumfort for exploring oblivous!jamie (and roy!) in their recent fic “intervention”#roy kent #jamie tartt #royjamie #my stuff

85 notes · View notes

captainwans · 2 days

Text

SAME OLD LANG SYNE.

— ALEX TURNER.

pairing: am!alex turner x fem!actress reader

timeline: 2014

summary: the pair connects by a shared history of what was and what could be, where one remembers while the other comes to realization.

part two: oh, sweet arabella!

warning: vulgar language, neurotic reader, and teeth-rotting fluff between the pair.

word count: 4,9k | ( picture not mine! )

note: i’ve changed the storyline a little bit, and i hope this won’t get too confusing. i really liked the idea of cindy and miles being together and i also hope this series makes sense.

arabella series

masterlist!

…. [Y/N]’S HEELS CLANKED LOUDLY AGAINST THE CORK FLOOR, THE SOUND OF HER SHOES ECHOING ACROSS THE STUDIO HALL AS SHE FASTENED HER PACE. The actress internally cursed at herself for being late and feeling disappointed in herself that this would be the group’s first impression of her. She thought she was prepared. She marked this day on her calendar and planned on taking the plane two days early. She had a plan. But boy, was she wrong. She got a call from her assistant two days before, asking her why she hadn’t shown up to the studio. She ended up getting a lecture, telling her how she messed up with the dates and that they were all expecting her. [Y/N] went spiral, eyes almost building out of their sockets as she realized the original date. Being her neurotic self, as well as a chronic perfectionist, she dropped everything she was doing and booked the next flight that was leaving in a few hours. She brushed off her suggestion that they could wrap it up and take it to the next day. She refused and told her that they would see her under an hour sharp, leaving her assistant dumbfounded.

“[Y/N], it’s fine. They understand that we messed up the dates. We’ll take it tomorrow—” Denise, her assistant, reassured with a warm tone, but ended up getting abruptly interrupted by the actress' frantic tone.

“No! Denny, stay where you are. Don’t do anything. I will be there in an hour. Ok? Bye.” [Y/N] stressed through her phone, face grimacing as she watched the clock on the wall. She hung up, not letting Denise finish her sentence as she dashed through her closet to get her suitcase.

The actress arrived right on time just like she promised, but her anxiety was on the roof at the thought of everyone’s faces, even the group, which she was ecstatic and nervous to meet. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint where she had met them, especially the lead singer. She was so sure that she must have interacted with him, but whenever she recalls the past her mind gets blank. It also applied to the other members and she remembered watching a picture of them, finding some familiarity that she couldn’t explain. She talked about it to Cindy, but it was to no avail.

"Apparently, Arabella is about me? That’s all I’m hearing and reading about on the internet. Do you know them? Miles, you know them. Aren’t you in a band with one of them? They’re really popular internationally. Arctic Monkeys.” [Y/N] told her best friends, her face glued to the computer screen as she read the lyrics of the supposed song that is about her.

Miles nodded with a hum, sitting beside his girlfriend as she had her legs draped over his thighs. Cindy’s eyes sparked, her lips forming into a curved smirk as she watched her co-star. She shifted her body to the side, sitting cross-legged before voicing her thoughts, ignoring Miles’ disapproving look. “Hmmm….Maybe, maybe not.” she sighed, giggling at the end, making her best friend turn her head toward her with a confused look before she went back on her computer.

“You need to tell her, love,” Miles whispered, making Cindy stifle back a laugh as she shook her head. “And ruin all the fun? She needs to figure this out for herself, baby. Besides, I love her clueless side. It truly fascinates me how she remembers all of her lines, but she can’t even remember a face. Heck, I mean she could’ve met him without even knowing.” she said in a low tone, looking back at her girlfriend with a funny look.

Her heart stumbled upon its own rhythm, and she didn’t know if it was because she was going to meet the band or from almost gasping for air as she ran with her high heels toward the backdoor to lead her to the set. Maybe a mix of both, she thought. A hard, quick pulse roared in her throat making her clear her throat, awkwardly passing an employee who looked at her with concern. She turned to glance at them, but once she turned her head she didn’t notice another person heading her way. Her body collided with a hard chest, making her lose her balance as she fell down the hard floor with a thud.

[Y/N] felt blood rush through her ears as she profusely apologized to the person in front of her. “I-I’m so sorry—” she wobbled with her words, her lips morphing into a downward pout. She felt their rough hand hoisting her up to her feet, their small chuckles filling inside her eardrums.

“No, please. I didn’t see where I was going.” The actress slid down the ends of her dress, her eyes slowly meeting theirs, making her breath hitch as she recognized him. Her eyes widened, crimson dancing across her cheeks. “Oh…” she trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck as she shyly looked at him. “Well, that’s a good first impression, right?” she chirped with a soft laugh, cursing inside her head at her high-pitched tone at the end.

Jamie’s smile widened, eyes sparking as he looked at the actress with a warm expression. “You’re still the bubbly [Y/N] that I remember.” he beamed at her, making her tilt her head at him in confusion. His face faltered for a second, confused by the fact that she couldn’t recognize him. He brushed off his confusion by clearing his throat, which went unnoticed by the latter as he introduced himself. “I’m Jamie, the guitarist.” he introduced himself, bringing his hand toward her to shake, which she happily returned.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie! Oh, I hope I’m not too late for filming. I’m so sorry, I somehow messed up the dates and my assistant called me a few hours ago telling me that we were supposed to film today, and now—I’m rambling, fuck..Oh! Sorry.” she babbled, covering a hand over her mouth as a curse word emitted from her lips making Jamie laugh.

The guitarist placed a gentle hand on her arm with a deep chuckle. “You’re all good, love. We don’t mind, really. It was much needed to extend the filming. We’re all jet-lagged from the flight.” He reassured her as the pair walked out of the studio with Jamie opening the door for her, for which she warmly thanked him.

The sun kissed her delicate features, making her squint her eyes as she walked toward the main set. She saw Denise waving her arms, making her return the same gesture as her eyes lit up at seeing her assistant. Her eyes darted across the ambiance, eyes finally landing on the group, whose eyes were already on the pair walking toward them making her self-conscious.

Alex held his breath before slowly exhaling as he took in her presence, his mind wandering back to their previous interaction from almost ten years ago. He remembered being so devastated with the incident with the paparazzi, as well as losing the sight of her when they forfecully had to part ways and for not trying harder to catch her.

Alex’s face morphed into a deep scowl, feeling a fire erupting inside his chest. He pushed a paparazzi out of his way as small curses emitted from his lips, his eyes darted across the old pubs in look of the actress. He felt a prickling feeling in his chest, squeezing his lungs making him let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he found his friends with his shoulders slumped.

Jamie gave him a frown, looking at his friend’s devastated state. “I’m sorry, mate. You just missed them.” he told him, his frown turning deeper, feeling bad for Alex and for [Y/N], who looked pretty shaken up by the incident.

Alex’s eyes widened, his feet sauntering backwards. “Did they leave just now?” he asked, his eyes tinted with hope as he watched his friend nod. Before he could answer his question, he turned his body the opposite way and sprinted toward the exit.

His heart was furiously beating against his chest, hearing his heartbeat loudly echoing inside his ears as he used all of his strength to open the metal door. He was immediately hit with the cold wind and he frantically looked around him, before noticing a car a few feet away from him driving off. He saw her by the window, making him dash toward the car. “[Y/N]!” he called out, halting with his steps as he watched the car disappearing from his sight.

“Fuck!” he fumed, kicking a crumbled soda and brought both of his hand to his forehead, aggressively brushing out some of his hair away from his face as he looked at nothing in particular.

Alex snapped out of his daydream, blinking a few times and watching her greeting the others, including the staff and crew members. A small smile curved his lips unknowingly at her kind nature, which was a feature that he noticed in her when they first met. His eyes shamelessly trailed over her figure through his glasses, the red dress hugging her curves like water before catching a glimpse of her beautiful features. His stomach swarmed with butterflies, her graceful smile glowing like the sun as she was enthusiastically greeting the drummer.

[Y/N] grinned, eyes crinkling as she subconsciously pulled down the long sleeves of her dress. She covered her hands with the material and brushed a few hair strands away from her face before greeting them with a polite smile. “There she is! The living legend.” she heard one of them say, causing a dust of crimson dance across her cheeks as she was pulled into a gentle embrace. She felt a sudden deja vu with the way he expressed his beam, but that quickly disappeared as it rapidly appeared.

She giggled, returning the gesture by hugging him back just as tightly. “Oh, I don’t know about legend.” she said with a deep chuckle before pulling away, causing a fit of protests coming out from Jamie’s mouth making them all laugh.

Nick came forward and politely greeted her, making Jamie pull Matt to the side. “She doesn’t remember us.” he whispered into his ear, making Matt look at his bandmate with a surprised look. The pair moved their gaze away from each other toward the actress, watching her introducing herself to Nick by shaking her hand.

Matt leaned closer to Jamie, opening his mouth to voice his thoughts. “Not even Alex?” he said in a small voice, making Jamie shake his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. They shared a look, before the guitarist shrugged his shoulders. “If I remember correctly, I don’t think Alex got to the stage of introduction himself. You remember the paps?” Matt’s mouth morphed into an “o” as he remembered the incident, his handsome features turning into a frown.

Blood rushed through her ears, flushed at Nick’s compliments. She smiled widely at his praise, hands placed on her heart as she said her thanks before moving her attention to the other guy beside Nick. She noticed his reserved nature, making her tilt her head to the side as she tried to search for his eyes through the glasses. Her heart palpitated at the smile he gave her, making her shyly smile back as she approached him. “It it mine turn now, Ms. famous?” he chimed with a cheeky smile, making the others laugh, including the actress who burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, yes! You’re the last one, and you know what they say….Save the best for the last.” she chimed with a wink, bringing her hand for him to shake while she had a war inside her mind trying to figure out where she got that sudden burst of confidence.

Alex’s smile widened, deep chuckles emitting from his lips as he brought his calloused hands to shake her hand. “I’m Alex, also known as the frontman of the band.” He politely greeted, giving her hand a little squeeze. It was hard enough for him to ignore an electric spark inside his body at her touch.

[Y/N] felt her skin tingle at his warm touch, eyes trailing over his features as she watched him resting his sun glasses on the top of his head with his other hand. She caught her breath at his handsome face, feeling her heart skip a beat at his stare. She hummed with a gentle smile, tasting his name on her lips and exhaled, his name for some reason making her feel content. “Alex. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m [Y/N], w-which you probably know.” she bashfully greeted, cursing internally at her stuttering at the end.

Alex rubbed her hand with his thumb, his finger tracing circles on her skin as he let out another laugh. “Oh, I definitely know. I loved your last project. You were phenomenal, love!” he complimented, his hand leaving hers in the process as he watched her smiling widely at him, noticing her heated cheeks radiating from the sun.

“Very phenomenall that Alex wrote a song about you.” Nick interjected, hands inside his pockets as he looked at his bandmate with a look, wiggling his eyebrows making everyone laugh, including the actress, who was a furiously flustered at the attention.

Alex’s felt blood rush through his face, causing him to clear his throat before voicing his thoughts. He crossed his arms like two swords, “People need to know about this masterpiece. I heard the views and streams increased when the album realised.” he said proudly, smile curving upwards making realization hit the actress like a wave.

“Now, it makes sense why fans started commenting on my Instagram if I’ve listened to Arabella.” she thought out loud, a small laugh erupting inside her throat.

Jamie joined her laughter, “When I think of it, the movie got ten times as many viewers compared to when it first came out. I read about it in an article or something of our album review.” he added into the conversation, making her eyes wide in surprise.

“All thanks to you,” she sang, gracefully bowing making them break into another session of laughter. Alex returned her gesture by placing a hand on his chest and bowing his head, making the actress giggle as she watched him with fond eyes.

The laughter soon died down around them as the pair continued to stare at each other before they were interrupted by a cough. Everyone whirled their head toward the sound, watching the director making an appearance causing [Y/N] to step forward to greet him. “I see you’ve all finally met. Nice to meet you, [Y/N], and don’t fret about it. I know, Densie told me. We want you at location two for filming.” he director ordered with a kind smile, making the actress nod her head.

[Y/N] turned her attention back to the group, her lip pressed together with a thoughtful look as she studied every member. She hummed and gave them a kind smile. “It was nice meeting all of you. Hope we see each other soon!” she chirped making them mirror her actions.

Her eyes lingered longer on Alex, whose eyes were focused yet soft. She watched him giving her a warm smile, making her turn her head away toward her assistant with a smile resting on her lips. Denise gave her a look, a smile curving the assistant’s lips and turned around to walk toward their location with the actress hot on her heel.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ▹ ▹ ▹

Alex was finished filming for a scene and was rushed to another location where he was going to film together with the actress. Nervous was an understatement, in fact he was almost shitting his pants and sprayed endless amount of cologne and fixed his hair before entering their new filming location. He was definitely a little upset that she didn’t recognize him, but that was merely his fault because he never got to tell her his name.

The sound of her laughter made his heart skip a beat, a smile curving upwards as he entered the set. He politely greeted some of the crew members before his eyes landed on the actress, who had her back facing him. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before sauntering toward her. “Ok, Alex, act cool.” he whispered to himself, nodding and brushing his sweaty palms on his leather jacket.

[Y/N] had her eyes closed, feeling the brush caressing over her eyelids and adding finishing touches on her makeup. She was nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her dress as her mind wandered back to the lead singer. The way his hand brushed against hers was enough for her body to ignite a spark, and she became deeply immersed with him. Something gnawed at the back of her brain, nagging and prickling at the sense of familiarity and she couldn’t put a finger on it.

She was so stuck in a trail of her own thoughts that she didn’t notice her makeup stepping back and packing her bag. A thud from the hairspray bottle hitting the floor is what snapped her out of her state and she locked eyes with the makeup artist, whose were were apologetic and timid. The actress gently brushed her off and picked up the bottle to give it to her before she walked over to the kitchen counter.

[Y/N] leaned her back against the counter and folded her arms in front of her chest as she looked down, noticing her heels were a little dirty from stepping on mud. She heard her name being called, and she turned to see Denise throwing a pack of cigarettes toward her which she gracefully caught with both of her hands. She hummed, eyes studying the small box with narrowed eyes. “Is this real cigarettes?" She mainly asked to herself since she was always used to smoke herb cigarettes when she was filming, but she also didn’t mind if they were real and she had a habit of smoking here and there once in awhile.

“I hope so. I’m kinda craving for a cig right now.” A deep voice filled inisde her ears, making her heart stammer against her chest as she turned her head to him, who was standing in front of her. Their close distance made her jump and she hit her back harshly against the counter causing a small gasp emit from her lips. The others, including her assistant and some of the crew members laughed. “You’re such a scaredy cat!”

Alex felt his stomach clench at her startled state and respectfully stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, eyes tinted with guilt. He watched her brush him off with a hand gesture, her small chuckles vibrating from her chest.

“It’s alright. I’m always jumpy, and to answer your question, yes, they are very much real.” she reassured, cheeks hot as she referred to the cigarettes, taking one stick out and placing it on her lips. She patted her waist and looked beside her for a lighter, eyebrows furrowed as her mind went back to a few moments ago, wondering if Denise gave her a lighter or not.

The sound of a lighter igniting made her turn her head, looking at Alex covering one hand over the small fire as he gave her a smile. “May I?” His smile took her breath away, leaving her speechless and she could only nod before inched closer. [Y/N] rested the cigarette between her fingers with a hum, blowing out the smoke by turning her head to the side to avoid him inhaling the smoke. She turned her head back to him, already finding him looking at her the same way she was looking at him —- tenderness.

She brought the cigarette toward him, which he gently took out of her hand. She felt his fingers brush against hers, the warmth of his skin quickly disappearing as it appeared. The pair continued by taking turns with a comfortable silence surrounding them, blocking out the sounds from the studio as they immersed themselves with each other.

“I hope this isn’t weird or anything.” Alex broke the ice, making [Y/N] frown with confusion. “What do you mean?” she softly asked him, head tilted to the side as she rested both of her hands on the counter.

The lead singer let out a flustered chuckle, feeling his words getting stuck inside his throat. “With the song and all that.” he tried to explain and internally cursed for the choices of his words, feeling blood rushing through his ears.

[Y/N]’s eyes crinkled from smiling. She shook her head, giving him a simper. “Oh God no. This is not weird at all. In fact, I’m very honored to have a song written about me. It’s nice to see someone else’s love for the movie as much as I do.” she admitted, leaving the counter as she found herself inching closer that she could smell his cologne.

With every close step she took his breath away, and the way she simply smiled at him set fireworks from his soul. His heart was beating against his chest and she was pretty sure that she could hear the way it was furiously pounding. He licked his lips before speaking, his brown eyes gazing into hers. “That’s good to hear.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but she heard him nonetheless.

[Y/N] studied him, feeling herself getting self-conscious with the way he was looking at her. “What?” she puzzled at him, cocking her head to the side. She felt crimson painting her cheeks and she scrunched her nose. “I can’t tell if you’re staring at me for the sake of staring, or planning a murder inside your head.” she voiced her thoughts, making Alex chuckle.

Alex puffed out the smoke, slowly exhaling before giving her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “You really don’t remember me, do you?” he genuinely asked, eyes soft as he watched her face falter.

[Y/N] furrowed her eyebrows, eyes studying every feature of his handsome face. She stepped closer, their lips a few inches away. She brought her hand to rest on his, gently using her fingers to grab the hold of the small stick as she looked at him. She noticed a small mole under his lips, eyes trailing over his slightly chapped lips before she searched for his brown eyes. She felt his hot breath fan over her face, the scent of mint and cigarettes and that was enough for her mind to wander back to her suppressed memories.

The smell of cigarettes and mint fanned her face and her eyes trailed over to his lips, wanting so badly to have his chapped lips against her. She felt his hand drifting up to hold the side of her neck, cupping her cheek as she melted into his touch. She rested her forehead against his, savoring his touch and the intimate moment between them.

A wave of emotions hit her like a tidal wave, her mind taking in every detail of their interactions and she blinked as realization engulfed her. Her mind traveled back to the old pub in Sheffield, from rembering helping the long-haired musician to ignite his cigarette to him protecting her from the paparazzi. Her heart did a backflip, beating vigorously as she felt herself growing hot.

[Y/N] turned her head to him, who was already looking at her with a fond look. She hummed, placing her hands behind her back. “Did I look good on the dancefloor?” she cheekily asked, making Alex laugh with a nod.

“You did look good on the dancefloor. In fact, you outshined the crowd with your dancing,” he admitted, biting his lip as he looked into her eyes, making her let out a sound of satisfaction.

“Oh my God, it’s you,” she breathed out, eyes softening as she looked at him and grabbed his arm. A growing smile reached her lips. “The cute long-haired musician.” she said with a giddy laugh as she bounced on her feet. Alex felt his cheeks flush at the name and grinned, his eyes lighting up like a christmas tree as he looked at her. “You remember?”

[Y/N]’s eyes gleamed as she nodded her head eagerly, “I knew it was something familiar about you—all of you actually. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, and everything about that night–well, Sheffield was all blurry and I have a memory of a goldfish.” she tried to explain, but ended wobbling with her words making the singer chuckle.

“But….I finally got your name after almost ten years.” she bubbled with a grin, pushing away some hair from her face. “I’m gonna be having a talk with Miles and Cindy about gatekeeping you.” she said in a dramatic tone, making Alex’s shoulders shake from laughter.

Alex gave her a funny look, “Gatekeep? They didn’t tell you about me? Not even Miles?” he asked, face scrunching as he thought of his friend for not mentioning him.

The actress shrugged, “I guess they did and when I think of it, I’ve heard your name, but I didn’t know they talked about you, or any of the members, really, to be honest. You didn’t get the chance to tell me your name and I was so upset that night that I suppressed everything that happened with the paps and everything.” she told him with a breathy chuckle, face deep in thought with her lips pressed into a thin line. “And Cindy decided to shut her mouth about it, which she’s in trouble for by the way, and now I’m here just realizing things.” she finished almost breathless, moving her eyes to look at him.

Alex’s lips curved upwards, nodding his head at the information. “What a story,” he said, making [Y/N] giggle with a nod. “Yeah, and I’m still processing here,” she joked, leaning her back against the counter and placing the cigarette on the ash tray beside her.

Alex shook his head and chuckled, causing a smile forming on her delicate features. The sound of his laughs made her stomach swirl with butterflies, as well as pink dust dancing across her cheeks. A comfortable silence engulfed around the pair, with the sounds of clamours echoing through the studio. Alex looked back at her, noticing her having her attention on the camera crew setting up for their next shoot. He watched her moving her head back to him, making them share a soft smile.

“I remember so being devastated after what happened with the paps. We got divided and I just lost you. I went looking for you, but Jamie told me you guys left.” he broke the silence between them, grabbing the lifeless cigarette from the ash tray to his lips.

Her eyes softened, resting her hand on his arm by gently rubbing circles down his arm. She hummed, “Well, I’m here now.” she softly said in a low tone, but enough for him to hear. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Alex’s eyes formed into a youthful glee when she said it, stifling back a grin on his handsome features as he looked at her. “Good.” he said, feeling his heart doing a backflip at the way she was looking at him.

Before [Y/N] could open her mouth, a loud clap behind them made the pair whirl their head toward the sound. The director had a beaming simper etched onto his features as he neared the duo. “I see you’ve already started without me. I think we’re going to use that. You guys really have chemistry!” the director chimed, pointing a finger at them.

The pair shared a flustered smile before moving their gaze toward the director, and the actress moved her eyes to her assistant, who gave her a knowing look as she wiggled her eyebrows at her. [Y/N] bit back a smile, biting her lower lip and averting her eyes away from Denise to the director before voicing her thoughts. She cleared her throat, earning the director’s attention making her cheeks tint a dust of pink. “Uh…I know the music video solely focuses on Alex, but is there anything specific you want me to do?” she asked, shifting her body to the side to snatch the small stick from Alex toward her lips.

The director snapped his fingers, “Exactly that!” she said, pointing a finger at her as she exhaled the smoke before letting out a laugh. “You’re gonna smoke some cigarettes, look mysterious just like the song displays. We’re thinking about doing what the song says to get a clear view of who Arabella is, and we’re also gonna add some clips from your movie.” the director explained, making her nod her head as she flicked the smoke on the ash tray.

“Great! Let’s do some magic, guys!” the director told everyone, walking back to his original position as he ordered the camera crew to get ready.

Alex and the actress shared another smile before the singer brought his hand to her. “You ready, my lady?” he asked her with a cheeky look, which she happily responded with a soft smile as she intertwined their hands. “I was born ready, baby. Let’s do this.”

62 notes · View notes

chukys-mouthguard · 19 hours

Note

#17 Angsty with Mat Barzal

Prompt: “It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

Note: writing angst for mat always has me picturing him just being the absolute cockiest asshole on the planet but i love it so much 🫠

“Mat you act like we haven’t been doing this shit for months now! I get wanting to keep some things private for yourself, but it’s like you're ashamed of me or something!”

He sat with his head in his hands as you paced the floor of his apartment. The two of you having just gotten home from an Islanders home game. Though having to drive separate because Mat and you weren’t together, and you couldn’t be seen with one another.

“It’s not that y/n! You know it’s not anything like that!”

He spat back at you before standing up himself, making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Then what is it? If you’re just looking for a hook up type situation, then I’ll walk out that door right now because I told you from day one that isn’t at all what I wanted. If you’re not interested in me anymore, then fine. But don’t sit here and lie to me when it’s obvious something is going on. You won’t be seen with me. I can’t wear your jersey number, I can’t meet any of the guys or their girlfriends. I’m your secret or something, and I don’t understand why!”

Mat sighed as he saw the tears in your eyes, hating to see you so upset, but he knew this was best. Keeping your relationship like it was. It was better this way, less complicated.

“It’s like…you have this power over me, and I-I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

He sipped his beer as you shook your head.

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wary of where it might lead? It’s been eight months at this point Mat, not quite sure where else we are headed.”

He knew he should’ve never let things go on as long as they had, but like he said, you had this power over him. He couldn’t commit to you. But he also couldn’t let you go. Despite how much he cared about you and liked you, he knew this couldn’t be anything more. Not now.

“I can’t put a label on this or introduce you to everyone because god forbid this goes south, I can’t go through that. I need to be focused on my game right now, the second I start introducing you to people and the things that come with that, it’s going to be too much pressure. I don’t want to deal with any of that right now, that’s why I like things where they are at. I get it, it’s been months, you want more. You need more. But I can’t give that right now, and I won’t give you that. I know what I want, and that’s not a label. I don’t need a girlfriend, nor do I want one.”

His words cut through you like a knife. The man you’d fallen for turning out to be nothing you ever thought he was. Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you did your best to suck up your emotions. Mat not deserving another one of your tears.

“So, what was the point? You were just keeping me around for fun? For company? To waste my time when you knew what I wanted?”

Mat simply shrugging as he brought his beer back to his lips for another sip. “I care about you, so fucking much. And I told you, you have this power over me where I can’t just walk away and let you go. I, I want to think it will get better. That things will change. But I’m also not going to give in and change things thinking that we are headed that way. So yeah, maybe I’m being selfish for keeping you around rather than ending this knowing it’s not what you want. But, I still want you here. I still want this with you. As long as you can accept where I stand. If you can’t, then that’s fine too.”

You scoffed as you grabbed your keys, “That’s fine too? You know what….you’re right, I do have power over you. And I’m taking that power to walk away from what a piece of shit you are. Go fuck yourself Mathew Barzal.”

#nhl imagine #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal

57 notes · View notes

angstywaifu · 2 days

Text

The Lost Sister - Part 30

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

As the middle of May arrives, so does War Games. Meaning we are fast approaching graduation. Something I had tried to avoid thinking about too much. But it was fast approaching. Meaning Garrick and Xaden leaving was fast approaching. This year was going so fast. It felt like only yesterday I was crossing that parapet and being shoved in front of the stairs in the rotunda. Being reunited with my brother and Garrick. And now we had to face the prospect of being separated again for who knows how long. And with our line of work, there was also the reality we may never see each other again. I shake my head to clear the thoughts from my head. I needed a clear head today. Today was War Games. If I went into this distracted, there was a very real chance I could be killed. It wasn’t uncommon for riders to die during war games. None of us were safe.

”What do you think our assignment is going to be?” Liam asks as we stand in formation in the middle of the courtyard with the rest of Fourth Wing. “Deigh thinks we’re on offense. He won’t stop going on about getting to kick Gleann’s ass-” Pausing as his dragon clearly butts in to say something. “Guess dragons hold grudges.” He whispers.

We certainly do. Mealladh adds, causing me to chuckle.

Anyone in particular you want to get revenge on? I tease.

Mealladh chuckles. No, not yet at least. Though Cath might be tempting to teach her rider to pull his head in.

We might have to get in line for that one.

Ahead of us leadership are gathered, getting their assignments from Xaden. He had know about the task since yesterday and he used his spare time to plan who was going where.

”We’re definitely on offense,” Rhiannon answers, “Otherwise we’d already be in the field.”

I nod in agreeance. “I don’t think I’ve seen a single rider from First Wing since lunch.”

Which did not bode well for us. Out of all the wings, First Wing liked us the least. Mainly Jack Barlowe and his squad. He wasn’t going to forget that Violet had put him in hospital for four days after their challenge a few weeks back. Meaning she would be the most likely target if our squads crossed paths.

”I think you two might be right.” Violet adds as she fidgets with the collar of her uniform. It was a particularly warm day, and we we’re fast approaching summer. I suddenly envied the other quadrants who had far better uniform options than the black leather we wore. “Why do you think riders wear black anyway?”

”Because it’s badass,” Ridoc states from behind us.

”So it’s harder to see if we bleed,” Imogen adds.

”Forget I asked.” Violet mumbles as she turns her attention back to the front.

Any hints as to whats to come? I ask to Garrick who startles slightly as I speak in his mind.

I’m never going to get use to that. He replies as his eyes flicker up to meet mine.

You love it. But you didn’t answer my question.

You’re getting nothing out of me sweetheart. He tells me bluntly as he turns his attention back to the squad leaders in front of him.

Nothing? I can’t tempt you anything? I tease.

I watch as his shoulders tense and his nostrils flair. No

No? Not even me getting down on my knees, my mou-

Stop it! His eyes meeting mine again, desire and need heavily evident in them.

Make me. I tease before severing the connection as the leadership meeting ends, Dain and Cianna heading back to us.

”Which is it?” Heaton asks. “Offense of defense?”

”Both.” Dain states as he stops in front of us. “First Wing has taken a defensive position in one of the practice fort in the mountains, and they’re guarding a crystal egg.”

The older riders in our squad murmur with excitement. Obviously this challenge is far more exciting than ones in the past they have encountered.

”What are we missing?” Ridoc asks as he looks around at the older riders. “Because you guys seem thrilled about an egg.”

”From past years, we know that eggs are worth more points,” Cianna states as she grins enthusiastically. “Flags have statistically been the lowest, and captured professors rank somewhere in the middle.”

As exciting as it would be to try get an actual human out, if it was Carr I would leave him there as long as possible just to make him squirm and suffer.

”But they like to switch it up,” Dain adds. “The same way we could be going for a real objective on the line only to discover its not as valuable as we thought.”

”So how is this both offense and defense? If they have the egg, then clearly we should go get the egg.” Rhiannon adds.

Dain’s excitement peaks with Rhiannons question. “Because we’ve also been given a flag to defend and no outpost to do it in.” He grins widely.

”And we’re carrying it.” I state as a grin of my own spreads on my face.

Dain looks over at me and nods, his grin faltering slightly as our eyes meet. He still wasn’t sure of me, and I don’t blame him. But right now we had to be on the same page.

”And who is going to carry this flag?” Imogen asks.

I don’t know how but Dain manages to smile even wider. “That is going to be the fun part.”

Immediately we jump into formulating a plan. Dain drilling into us the strategy he wants us to follow. It seems Dain had taken something away from out time in Monsteratt with Mira. But our plan was simple and easy to follow. Anything too complicated would have us too focused on trying to remember what to do. All we had to do was play to our individual strengths and pass that flag often, never giving First Wing a chance to spot who was carrying it. An almost perfect chance for me to try use my signet. But could I cast a believable illusion while moving and on a large group of people? That was going to be my test. With two whole wings out there it would be a massive test to see if I could. But if I messed it up, part of my signet would be known to the entire quadrant. Something I did not want.

It’s a risk worth taking. It will not be easy, but if we focus I have no doubt you can pull this off. Mealladh states as I meet her eyes as we walk into the flight field.

One way to find out then. I state back as I smile at her.

”We’re going to win.” Rhiannon states confidently as she puts her arms around Violet and I.

”What makes you so sure?” Violet asks nervously.

”We have you two, Tairn, Mealladh, Riorson and Sgaeyl. And obviously me.” She grins. “There is no way we’re losing this.”

”You are certainly-” Violet’s words die as Tairn comes into full view.

He’s standing proud and tall at the front of the section next to Mealladh. Dain’s dragon Cath pushed easily to the side to accommodate them. A glint on Tairn’s chest catches me eye. A buckle. On Tairn’s back is a saddle. A saddle made to help Violet keep her seat. That sneaky bastard.

”That’s…. That’s a saddle.” She stutters out.

”That’s cool, that’s what that is.” I tell her.

”Yeah, and it looks way more comfortable than Feirge’s bony spine, I’ll tell you that. See you two up there.” Rhiannon says before pushing past us and heading off to mount her own dragon.

I turn and walk over to Mealladh, leaving Tairn and Violet be to have whatever conversation they are having.

She’s not going to be happy with you. I tell Xaden who is walking over to Violet.

He meets my gaze and shrugs. It will keep her alive and let Tairn do what he needs to do. She will learn to like it.

I shake my head at him. Fucking mated dragons.

He gives me a vulgar gesture before walking past me to Violet who still looks shocked at the saddle that now adorns Tairn. I have to give it to my brother, he had thought of anything and everything to keep that girl alive. And honestly this was the best one I had seen yet. Hell I kind of wanted one, but I had not problems keeping my seat and I doubt Mealladh would tolerate it.

You would be correct. But if it kept you alive I would do my best to tolerate it. She states as I run up and mount her.

That might be one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.

I don’t have to look at her to see she’s rolled her eyes at me. As I settle in my seat I look forward to see Garrick mounted on Chradh looking over at me. I can tell from here how excited he is about this War Games. It would be challenging to do offense and defence, but we could pull it off. I feel his presence reaching out for me, clearly wanting to communicate before we take off.

You’re going to use your signet aren’t you?

Of course I am. It’s going to give us the upper hand with that flag. I tell him sternly. I was not backing down on not using my signet. I needed to learn to use it in real life situations.

I see him nod his head slightly. I know there’s no point in telling you Riorson’s not to do something, but please be careful with it. We can’t have everyone knowing what you can do.

If it means winning, I’ll do whatever it takes. And I know you will to.

I don’t doubt that. You just keep that flag safe sweetheart, and I’ll make sure Xaden or I get that egg.

How about this. You make sure you get that egg and you might just get a reward tonight. I tease, knowing he will do anything and everything to make sure he gets that egg.

A reward? What kind of reward? He practically growls in my head.

Get that egg and you’ll find out.

And with that Mealladh and I launch into the air, leaving a very shocked and dumbfounded Garrick down below.

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc #fourth wing x reader #the fourth wing #the empyrean

27 notes · View notes

riotwritesthings · 2 days

Note

Blue - WinterIron please

hello I love you and I love this fic plz enjoy

(now taking prompts for pride month)

Shades of Blue

WinterIron - T, 1.3k - Humor

“Tell me you didn’t buy that.”

Tony doesn’t look over at Pepper as he says, “No, I just walked out of the gallery last night with a twelve-foot painting in my pants. Sure, people questioned it, but I just told them it was my-”

“Stop,” Pepper cuts him off, a pained look on her face as she steps up beside him in front of the massive painting. ”Why did you buy this?“ She asks, side-eyeing him, ” You don’t even like abstract art.“

”I might like it,“ Tony says defensively, shooting her a quick glare before his eyes are drawn back to the painting. ”I just… I like the colors,“ he finally says helplessly, “for some reason I feel like I could stare at it all day…”

His voice trails off as he once again lets himself get lost in the swirling and shifting blues that make up the entire painting. The longer he stares the more different shades he finds, his gaze tracing every brushstroke and the way they transfer from one shade of blue to the next. It’s almost familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on why…

”Really,“ Pepper says, so flatly that Tony almost looks over at her.

He can feel the pointed stare that she’s fixing on the side of his head, though, and finally he sighs out, “What?”

“You really don’t see it?” She asks skeptically, “Really?”

It takes a second for Tony to tear his eyes away from the beautiful blues so he can finally look over at her as he asks, “See what?”

Pepper raises a single eyebrow at him, like the answer should be so obvious.

“What,” he asks defensively, and then makes an impatient sound when she continues to stare at him. "Come on, just tell me, is it a magic-eye type thing? Is there a subliminal dick, what?"

Her eyes narrow, like she’s trying to figure out if he’s joking, and then she shakes her head as she sighs, “Never mind, I’m not touching this. You don’t pay me enough, and you couldn’t pay me enough to deal with this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tony calls after her as she stomps out of the penthouse, “You can’t just say that and then leave! Pepper!”

She does leave though, still shaking her head and muttering to herself. As soon as the elevator doors close behind her Tony’s eyes are drawn back to the painting.

“What does she know,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

He tips his head from side to side, squints one eye closed, but he can’t spot whatever the hell made her react like that. It’s just an average too-big abstract painting, the kind Tony usually would have walked right by in his quest for more hors d'oeuvres, but the colors had pulled him up short.

Something about all the mixing and swirling blues still has his heart beating a little faster in his chest, even now. It feels… safe, but also exciting, almost hypnotic somehow, and Tony hadn’t been joking about his desire to stare at it all day.

JARVIS has to snap him out of his daze when it’s time for team training, and Tony hurries to the gym before he can get another lecture from the super captain.

Over the next week, Tony spends more time than he’ll admit just standing in front of the painting, staring at all the shades of blue. He’s almost late for two meetings, actually late for a third, and when Thursday rolls around Clint has to come find him for team movie night.

“Is this about your new painting?” Clint is already demanding loudly as he steps off the elevator, and Tony jumps guiltily.

“No,” he says quickly, even though he’s definitely just staring at the painting where it's still leaning against the fireplace.

“Wow, Bruce said you were being so weird about it,” Clint says with a laugh, “and he likes art, but this is just-”

His voice cuts off in a strangled sound as he steps around into view of the painting, and Tony looks over at him in concern. Clint blinks at the canvas, glances up at Tony, back to the painting, and then he starts laughing. Hard.

"Wh- What?" Tony demands in an angry sputter, “Why are you- Steve did the same thing, what the hell is so funny?!”

Clint wheezes out a couple of attempts at words around more laughter and then shakes his head, clutching his stomach as he doubles over.

"Just tell me," Tony pleads, trying to keep a whine out of his voice as he follows Clint back towards the elevator, “otherwise I’m going to think this is all a conspiracy and that nothing is actually funny about my new painting.”

“And you don’t even see it!” Clint crows, wiping actual tears from his eyes.

"See what?!"

“No, I’m not telling you,” Clint says with a happy sigh, slumping against the elevator panel and hitting a bunch of buttons with his shoulder, “this is too good, you are so dumb sometimes.”

Tony considers kicking him. He also considers just not dealing with this, skipping movie night and heading back upstairs to stare at his painting, but he knows he’ll never live that down.

“Conspiracy,” Tony grumbles, facing forward and glaring at nothing as the doors open on the gym floor for no reason.

He decides to do research.

Sam also finds the painting inexplicably hilarious, and Rhodey refuses to comment when Tony sends him a picture. He asks Natasha what she thinks and she stares at the canvas for several long minutes before fixing Tony with a look that’s somehow equal parts judging and pitying.

None of them will actually tell him what’s so funny though, and Tony jumps between being annoyed and extremely concerned.

He’s leaning more towards concerned at the moment, as he stands in front of the painting, hands on his hips.

It would probably be less weird if he would hang the thing somewhere, he can admit, but he can’t decide. And he likes the fact that with the painting just leaning against the fireplace, he can stand directly in front of it and let it take up his entire field of view. Nothing but gorgeous, shifting blues.

When the elevator doors open Tony looks over just long enough to see that it’s Bucky walking into the penthouse. He doesn’t think that he’s missing any team activities, or his and Bucky’s bi-weekly sci-fi night, but he has been pretty distracted lately.

“Hey Doll,” Bucky says in greeting, and for once Tony is too busy to worry about what the petname does to his chest, “Steve said you need to talk to me?”

“Do I?” Tony asks distractedly.

“You tell me,” Bucky says with a huff of laughter, coming to a stop beside the painting and glancing over at it. “Nice painting,” he adds easily, without a hint of laughter or teasing.

Tony jerks his gaze over to meet Bucky’s with a start, surprised to find someone else who doesn’t see whatever is so funny, and- oh-

Oh.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes somehow exactly matches every shade in the painting, familiar and almost hypnotic, and no wonder Tony has been so caught up in the urge to stare at it for hours. He really is so stupid sometimes.

"I’m a moron," Tony groans, dropping his face into his hands. How could he develop a crush and then project it onto a painting without even noticing, no wonder everyone has been laughing at him-

“What?”

“What?” Tony replies automatically even as his head jerks up and how had he half-forgotten that Bucky is here. His gorgeous eyes are fixed on Tony, the shades of blue shifting as his expression wavers between confusion and amusement. Tony’s heart starts beating double time in his chest, and somehow all he can think to do is blurt out, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” Bucky says back, his voice fond as a warm smile curls his lips.

#winteriron #starkbucks #my fic #buckytony #riot answers #riot writes #pride month prompts

33 notes · View notes

queenangella · 9 months

Text

#putting this in the tags bc I need to get this out but also feel kinda guilty about it so I don’t wanna scream it in a post #but I feel soo irrationally pissed at my friend #bc she’s one of my best friends and I love her but I haven’t heard from her all summer except for the like four times she answered my #messages only to immediately ask me something in return #it took her two weeks to reply to a meme I send her only to immediately follow up with ‘het remember how you said your parents wanted to #hire my band’#‘ahaha summer is so busy I’ve read all my books anyway you told me I could borrow this one book?’#last was ‘heyy sorry for not replying haha anyway im bored next week wanna go on a trip’#to which I replied ‘yeah I would love to but I have my internship starting next week remember’#and its like I don’t mind that she doesn’t answer my texts like god knows I hate texting #but its really starting to feel like our relationship is fully based on her needing me for something #which I have felt before but I kinda dismissed it as me thinking it was always me who had to take initiative which was disproved when she #asked me to meet up a few times but thinking back it was always like ‘hey let’s meet up for coffee’ and then when I arrive having literally #left the library where I’d been studying for only ten minutes bc otherwise i wouldn’t see her.#she’s like ‘oh I don’t want coffee anymore but I need to go to the supermarket wanna join me?’#which I always did bc I wanna spend time together and it’s cheaper for me than getting overpriced coffee but!!!!#anyway I’m feeling this now bc while she hadn’t answered my ‘sorry can’t go on a trip’ text I did just see that she’s currently in portugal #with another friend #which is like??? so she just found someone else to relieve her of her boredom and so she didn’t need me anymore so why answer me right??#anyway it’s probably not that bad and I will talk to her about it when I see her again which will probably be in a month I guess but for now #I don’t wanna ruin her trip

3 notes · View notes

lapsha · 11 months

Text

my supervisor called me out for wearing ripped baggy jeans and crop tops 💀

#she said in this line of profession I have to look more professional because I’m working with clients #but I literally never see my clients face to face 💀 it’s all online and obviously I wouldn’t wear that outfit when meeting them #I sit in front of a computer 95% of the time!!!! I only get up to go to the bathroom or the kitchen that’s it #I was so dumbfounded when she called me bc of this shit #my friend has a similar position and they dont give a fuck about what she wears…..#she was like do you understand where I’m coming from? and I was like I can understand if I shouldn’t wear crop tops #even though you only see a tiny bit of my stomach and I always cover my belly button… anyway #but then I told her I don’t understand why I shouldn’t be allowed to wear ripped baggy jeans 💀#my colleague wears ripped skinny jeans but I can’t wear baggy? cmon gtfo #now I know that they always gossip about my outfits even though a week ago she complimented me fjdjsjsjsj #these people are so fake #I’m happy with my job tbh I just dislike the lack of internationality #and I don’t have a single person I vibe with 🥲#she tried to make our convo less awkward by adding her teehehhee but it seemed so forced…

2 notes · View notes

rosicheeks · 2 years

Note

I love seeing your imagination go wild in the notes. Your #2 and beyond are going to have a lot of fun with you

#🫣🫣🫣🫣#hehe thank you 🥰#I’m sorry #but where the FUCK ARE THEY #I would like someone to have fun with me 🫣#try new and different kinks and see what I like and what I reallyyyyy like #surprise me with a ‘date night’#and literally just explore and have fun with me #see what makes me squirm #what makes me scream and cry from too much pleasure #see what kinks I’m secretly into cause you’ll be able to tell by how my body reacts #like ‘oh really????? you don’t like when I do this ——- well then why is your pussy all wet?’#and I’ll just be like #oh #I guess I have a new kink hahahaha #anyway #I can’t wait to meet that number 2 #ask #anon

3 notes · View notes

billymayslesbian · 1 month

Text

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

#drug mention #saw one where op was making fun of people for not smoking #pic

10K notes · View notes

cumikering · 24 days

Text

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family Masterlist

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

6K notes · View notes

max-fewtrell · 6 months

Text

#i really shouldn’t have come #i still can’t believe he did that #he basically tried to avoid me all night #then he said we’d get a few drinks and i should meet him where he‘s staying the night and text him #he didn’t come outside or text me back #it’s a really shitty thing to do considering i had to take a taxi to even get there #and he let me stand there in the freezing cold #still haven’t heard back from him and it’s just so rude #if you didn’t want to then why even tell me to come #i specifically asked him if he’s sure bc I’m not going there for nothing and he said yes #it fucking hurts so much #i can never see him again because he will probably just ignore me now #i honestly have no words #no idea what happened all of a sudden #why did he think he has to hide from me #i didn’t do anything #lmao #didn’t really get any sleep and have to drive back home for like 3 hours #i just wanna die #rant over #plesse ignore #I’m just really pissed/disappointed rn #personal

0 notes

joonie-beanie · 8 months

Text

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs.

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!”

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—”

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks.

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ”

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise.

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles.

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley genshin #genshin fic #bean fic #fic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut

14K notes · View notes