#love his hair. Love drawing his hair so much

[will41n]

a bad photo of an eefo duddle, was too lazy to take a screenie my friend was trying to make me take his pants off him...

and i did ....

HAHAHAHAH then she asked me to take his underwear off. you think i didnt? ofc i did.

a redstone torch,

#IM SO SORRY (im not) #i love how soft his hair look here #i think its the first time im trying softer lines for hair #alex draws #hermitcraft #hermitblr #ethoslab #etho #and i like it much more

[bby-deerling]

vanilla bean (law x reader nsfw)

law likes your lip gloss a little too much ;)

wc: 1.5k || masterlist

this was written for the lovely @happy-saiki, who gave me permission to share with all of you! <3

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @sanjisprincesswifey @fanaticsnail

Law adores you.  From the wayward flyaway strands of hair that frame your face to your sharp, biting wit, all of the little idiosyncrasies you possess drive Law crazy; however, none of these get quite under his skin like the soft, calming scent of vanilla that lingers in your wake.  Without fail, his eyes always follow as you lift your tube of gloss to your mouth, smothering your chapped lips until they glisten, always smacking them with a gentle pop that serves solely to provide you with a sliver of amusement.  Transparent and shimmering, your mouth lures him in like a bright beacon and leaves him helpless to do anything but fall into the tantalizing trap of being in your orbit.  However, he tries so desperately to hide the way the layer of flavor on your lips needles at him as he grapples with every fiber of his being to hold back when you approach him with that intoxicating taste on your mouth, your lips glinting as they catch stray beams of light that taunt him mercilessly.

No matter how unintentionally brazen his stare becomes at times, you never seem to notice exactly what you do to him, turning him into a feverish, needy creature that he barely recognizes as himself; never making the connection, you simply focus on soaking in everything he has to give you, not picking up on the way his tongue runs across your lower lip repeatedly, desperately trying to catch any remaining hints of gloss remaining on your mouth. 

Maybe that was part of the appeal for Law—you have no clue how much you’re driving him crazy as you spread a bit of it along your lower lip for seemingly the millionth time today, hastily rubbing your lips together as you spread the sticky, viscous liquid evenly along your mouth.  Eyes intently watching you, he can practically feel the sweet vanilla flavor dancing along his tongue, but even still, he needs to feel it—taste it—for himself.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, trying not to show his entire hand as he waves you over towards his desk, his legs stretched out wide as he sits in his chair.  Impatient, the tips of his fingers drum against his leg as he waits for you to draw closer.

“What’s up?” you ask innocently as you approach him and perch yourself onto his desk, absentmindedly pressing your lips together to distribute your gloss more evenly.  He takes a deep breath as he watches your lips smack together, his eyes darkening as your doe eyes bat back at him in confusion.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmurs, leaning forward and looping his arms around your waist.  Putty in his hands as he pulls you towards him, you let out a small sound of surprise as he yanks you off the table and onto his lap; your legs straddling him, Law has you where he wants you as his lips crash against yours.  He doesn’t bother trying to stifle his heavy sighs or soft moans as he feels the drag of your lips against his mouth; hips grinding up into yours, he’s greedy as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, transferring a tiny bit of the gloss into his needy mouth.  “Tastes so good—feels so good running across my lips…” Law mumbles, making your eyes widen with a smidgen of shock as he slides his tongue against yours.  Roaming hands graze along your sides before harshly grabbing a handful of your thigh, grasping you as if to ground himself in reality as his mind slips into a high.  Rocking yourself into him with a bit more friction, you let out a needy sigh into his mouth as he continues to kiss you possessively, both body and soul consumed by your essence. 

The dissonant tastes of mint and the last bitter dregs of Law’s coffee drag along your tastebuds as his hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties; a soft whimper escapes your shiny but now kiss-bitten lips as his thumb starts to rub circles into your clit.  “I didn’t know you liked my gloss so much,” you whisper with a soft, teasing lilt when he breaks the kiss for a brief moment; he lets out a low grumble as he captures your lips again in an attempt to hide the shade of pink that’s creeping into the apples of his cheeks.

“’Course I do.  I can’t keep my hands off you when you put that stuff on,” he murmurs against your lips, making you whimper with delight as your hips eagerly roll into his hand.  It’s intoxicating, the way he’s so enamored by such a simple little thing, but you’re certainly not complaining as he slides the crotch of your panties to the side and runs the tips of his fingers along your entrance, inhaling sharply with satisfaction when he feels them slicken.  “So wet for me…” he whispers, pulling apart from the soft, shimmery sanctity of your lips to kiss his way down your neck, biting softly at your sensitive flesh as two of his inked fingers press inside of you.  There’s an addictive quality to the way his fingers curl against your sweet spot, rendering you into a writhing mess as you twitch in his lap, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  Gentle whimpers float through his ears, and despite the soft, airy tone of your voice, he’s only prompted to get sloppier, rougher, more purposeful with his movements as he tries to get you off, desperate to see those shiny lips of yours part in ecstasy.  Though you’re getting close—that much is clear from the way your thighs begin to quiver with yearning, pressed against his rough jeans—he wants to give you more, overwhelm you until you can’t think straight, something impossible to do when he’s still fully clothed and awkwardly maneuvering around your state of half-undress; he needs more control.

Room.

Shambles.

He’s swift as he adjusts your position once he’s got you in his bed, laying you down on your back as he unbuttons his jeans; you take the time to slip off your own underwear, leaving you bare and dripping for him as his lips connect with yours once more and his head prods at your entrance.  “I need you.” he whispers lowly as his shaft teasingly drags along your folds.

“Then take me,” you murmur in return, your teeth biting gently into his lower lip as he slides inside of you.  Law leaves you feverish as his thumb rolls circles into your needy bud once more, this time with more intent as he sets a steady pace with his cock.  The mewls you let out for him are mangled and nearly pathetic, but they make a sense of pride stir at the base of his spine; the sight of you splayed out beneath him steals his breath from his chest, and he becomes twice as determined to turn you into a mess around his cock.

“That feel good?” he teases with a hint of raspiness in his voice as he feels your walls start to twitch around him.  When you nod and whimper affirmatively in return, he only smirks and keeps prodding you with low, husky words as he brings you closer to your high.  “Yeah, I know it does,” he says smugly, grazing his teeth along the soft column of your neck.  So close to snapping, he can feel the heat from your cheeks against him as your breathing turns shallow.  “Let go for me, let go and cum for me,” he murmurs, letting out a satisfied exhale as your body bends to his will and you unravel for him.

“Fuck, so tight, you’re gonna make me—” he hisses as he grits his teeth and tries to hold back the inevitable as your pussy threatens to milk him dry.  However, soon the building crest sweeping through his body is too powerful to ignore, and the wave breaks; his head buries into the crook of your neck as he cums, holding back a moan with a bite to your shoulder that he smooths over with a hasty kiss once he comes back to his senses.

“You alright?” you ask him softly after he pulls out and rolls over onto his back, watching him as his heart nearly beats out of his chest.  These little bits of pure vulnerability were so rare, yet so enticing to see as the seemingly permanent furrow in Law’s brows unknits, and he lets out a sigh free of both baggage and worry.

“You’re just so pretty,” he says without thinking—something nearly as uncommon for him to do as him smothering you with compliments regarding your appearance—as his head tilts to face yours.  “I’m glad we’re together,” he whispers, voice softer as he meets your gaze.  Oftentimes, Law expects you to infer meaning from the dozens of small gestures he offers you, but now, as he pulls you close, he shows gratitude verbally, which is no small task for someone who keeps his deepest feelings buried in the sulci of his mind and in the crevices of his heart.

Though three silent, unspoken words hang in the air between you, there’s an overwhelming sense of content as you fall asleep in each other’s arms—it would be nice to hear him say it one day, you think to yourself, but with the way he holds you close, you get the gist.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #law smut #law x you #law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction

[brailsthesmolgurl]

PUPPY LOVE?

Preview: You had always been the apple to their eyes. How would they express their affection towards you in highschool?

Warnings: I had to make it slight-slight-slight angsty hehe, teeth-rotting fluff for comfort for my beloved readers <3 btw readers and the boys are highschool kids in this one-shot so no suggestive or anything!

P.S: This idea came to me in the middle of the night and I knew I had to burn the midnight fuel to squeeze all of my brain juice for this piece :> Enjoyyy!

RAFAYEL

You lifted your head up when you heard a chair dragged against the tiled flooring. It came to a halt and down sat the lilac haired fellow, right in front of you, his chin propped on the back of his hand as he leaned down to look at you, a smirk hung on his thin lips. Rafayel. "Someone looked like they had a nightmare yesterday."

"It's none of your business." You furrowed your eyebrows, gaze turned towards the classroom door. More classmates are starting to walk in, greeting each other good mornings and immediately getting into their daily routines of catching up or gossiping. You, on the other hand, do not really belong to any 'gangs'. You find solace within your own bubble and occasionally, do hang out with your only friend, Tara.

The purple haired individual in front of you frowned, your answer unappealing to his taste. This young man sitting in front of you is the lucky charm of your school, and almost everyone dotes on him, headmaster, teachers and students alike. Both of his parents are renowned artists, comparable to Van Gogh and many other artists throughout history books and as expected, Rafayel inherited the same talent as his parents. Rich, handsome, charming and talented, he is basically a girl magnet.

"You do not have to be so rude you know." He stood up when he heard his name being called. Reaching into the pockets of his blazer, he took out two cheese sticks and placed it onto your table. "Here, have this. Your frown makes you look like a shriveled up prune. Some cheese sticks would probably do well for you." He chuckled teasingly and stepped out of your personal bubble, heading out of the classroom.

If glares could kill, you would probably be laying on the floor motionless by now. The cheese sticks that sat at your table were attracting unwanted attention from the girls in your class. You had absolutely no idea why Rafayel would always approach you. The attention you are receiving from him does not beat the attention other girls are getting as well, not that you cared but you just find it odd. A lone girl getting so much attention from the school's celebrity, what would the others think of it? Maybe he is just trying to be friendly. That always remains the reason to your question.

Here comes the other question. You do not think you like him, but why does your heart flutter whenever he is near you? Bidding you good morning and goodbye had became a part of a routine for the both of you. Why would your heartstrings tug whenever you find another girl initiating skinship with him? Why?

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Rinnnggggg. The bell rung, indicating the end of another school day. Students rushed out like ants out of the school premises, flooding the empty hallways. You packed your things, eyeing the time displayed by the clock. 3pm. It is the perfect time for you to go to the art room to practice some drawing. You may not be an artist like the talented Rafayel, but you still do have your own fascination towards drawing and sketching.

You walked in the direction opposite of the flow, passing through the crowd like a fish trying to swim upstream. As you were nearing the art room, someone knocked you over and you fell backwards, with your bagpack being your cushion as you landed back first onto the floor. You still winced upon impact. "Oh look, it's Rafy's pet." The girl that knocked you over crossed her arms, her blond curls tied up in a high ponytail. Oh, it's the school's flower girl, Jarianne, but you guessed it. She is nowhere carrying the aura of a flower.

Sighing, you pushed yourself off of your back, not even having the thought to fight back. "Know your place would you?" Jarianne spoke, studying her oval shaped painted nails. "Rafy might give you cheese sticks every once in a while, but that does not mean anything. Don't get your hopes up, okay sweetie?" Huffing a smile, the mean girl strutted off, leaving you calculating your next steps.

Shrouded with anger, you got up and made your way towards the art room. You are ready to splash some paint onto the canvas, wanting to express your anger in a much more 'healthier' form. She was right. Who are you to be engaged with Rafayel. Someone who is a loner like you should not be in any way associated with someone of such a high status like him. You are halfway at being disappointed at yourself until you slide the door opened and you saw Rafayel in the art room.

He looked ethereal, basked in the warm light of the sun in the midst of a cloudy afternoon, his lilac hair slightly tousled on his head. His back was facing you, but you could tell with the way his paintbrush moved across the canvas with grand gestures, he is painting yet another masterpiece. Part of his uniform, the dark blue blazer and white collared shirt was messily tossed onto one of the desks nearby, and he is left in his black t-shirt. Right when you are about to leave, his head snapped around and he caught sight of you standing in the doorway with beady eyes. "Finally, you're here." Framing himself to be waiting for you this whole time. Well, he was.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." You consciously tucked a stray strand of your brunette curls behind your ear, your face immediately turning red when you realised that you may have taken a bit longer then usual to be staring at the young man. "I'm gonna go." You turned and immediately started jogging down the hallway.

"Wait! Wait!" Rafayel called out for you, yet, you did not bother to turn back. All you could hear was the sounds of chairs creaking and a loud thud, followed by hurried footsteps.

You turned a corner and slid yourself into an empty classroom to catch your breath. When you sat yourself down, the door slid right open and Rafayel presented himself, huffing and panting as he bent himself down to slow his breaths. You were shocked of course, that he would run down the halls for you. Jarianne's words rang through your head like an alarm and it filled you with more regrets.

"You should stop talking to me." You clenched your fist, standing up, getting ready to leave. "We are not friends to begin with, so we should keep it that way." When you walked past him, he gripped your wrist and you gasped in response. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Do you actually..." He took in a huge breath and straightened his posture, now eyes meeting yours. "Are you actually so naive?"

"Look, I don't know what you are trying to do Rafayel, but I am not interested in whatever you are going to say. Just leave me alone." You pulled your wrist out of his grip but it only prompted him to hold your wrist tighter. "Leave me be!"

You slipped, and he grabbed you by your waist, underestimating the strength of his before he stumbled backwards and you ended up pressing him against the wall. The both of you had the same expression, widened eyes and flushed cheeks. Tension immediately started pumping into the air, causing your body to tense up. "Are you upset?" He broke the silence between you two, leaning down closer to you to inspect your face. "I had never seen you getting so mad before."

MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. A part of you do like him, you liked that he would only greet you in the morning and when you leave home, you liked that he would offer to teach you art anytime you wish, you liked that sometimes he would ditch his friends just to come and sit with you during recess. But, Jarianne was right. You always have this part of you that refused to accept the fact that you do indeed, like Rafayel. Just like all of the other girls out there. It's just that you are nothing special at all. You will be regarded as any other fan girl of his.

Hesitation laced in your voice. "I just don't think someone like you should be spending time with someone like me Rafayel." Your gaze dropped, feet shuffled against the floor beneath, watching the dust particles flying up into the air.

He clicked his tongue, but remained still. "You have not answered my question. Why do you think I go out of my way to talk to you everyday hmm?" Your silence was met with the continuation of his thoughts. "That's because I like you, y/n."

Your breath hitched in your throat when he confessed to you and you nervously took a step back to put more space in between the both of you. "Don't." His arms snaked around your waist and he reeled you in, nose tips almost touching. It took you a while to only realise that Rafayel is red like a tomato, the confession of his happen to be genuine afterall. His blushing expression is a sight to behold. Just like in a watercolour painting, all of the colours are harmonised, his purplish, tousled soft curls that sat on top of his head framed the outline of his carved facial shape well, with scarlet red lightly dabbed across his pale cheeks, giving the illusion of his eyes sticking out like magenta gemstones on a iridescent rubicund-white marble complexion. "I really do like you y/n."

"Why?" That is the only question you can mutter out of your mouth. You sounded dumb for a second but you would like to find out what he deemed special about you.

You can sense his nervousness when his eyes started darting everywhere and his arms withdrew from your waist. "I...You're...Uhm..." He is clearly struggling with his words. "You are different. You do not find the need to please me or to catch my attention." His words were spoken slowly and precisely, calculated even. "I like you because of the way you are, y/n. You are not like the other girls. Sometimes, when I look at you, I wanted to sketch a drawing of you, but I couldn't, because that's how alluring you are to me. No drawings could achieve that."

The way he phrased his affection towards you, was nothing of confidence but only of his vulnerability. Five years throughout his secondary days, you always regarded him to be the embodiment of confidence, carrying himself well has always been a gestalt of his. But today, you do not find that in him, all you see is this young man stumbling over every single word, self-doubt equivalent to yours hinted in his tone. He does not see himself to be worthy of you, just like you do not think you are worthy to him. The thought of it ached your heart.

"Rafayel. I...I never knew you liked me." Reaching your hands up, you patted his shoulders awkwardly, not really knowing where to position your hands. "I thought you just wanted to tease me and push me around like a plaything."

"The audacity to say that." He scoffed, face scrunched up like a shriveled prune he had mentioned to you earlier. "I don't like keeping the people I like as pets or any derogatory words you may think of, you know?" The sight of you holding onto his shoulders, eyes widened made him smile, one of his hand lightly patting the top of your head. Rafayel notices the way your lips would wobble the slightest when you tried to alleviate your own anxiety, convincing him further that you do possess the same feelings as him. He only has to figure out how to make you believe that he is not messing with your feelings and how to not escalate this sweet moment into a dramatic and awkward mess. "I don't want you to be accusing me of something so lowly anymore, yeah? Promise me?"

"But... what would people say when they see..." You gestured between the two of you, head already coming up with all sorts of accusations that would be thrown towards the both of you. "Us together? I don't want to trouble you..."

"They can say anything, but we can treat it as nothing y/n." He ran his hand down to your cheek, cupping your small face in his palm now, your face slowly warming up in his palm. "In the end, I chose you. It is only right for them to be jealous." He smiled leisurely, confidence resurfacing again. "So, would you date me y/n?"

Gnawing onto your lip, you nodded your head and looked down. You had only seen this in romance shows, where lip kisses are supposed to happen after confessions do. But you felt his soft lips collided against your forehead and your heart released sparks of fire uncontrollably. You are screaming internally as if you had won the lottery. As he pulled back, you raised your head up to glance at his facial features. Rafayel is beaming, hand still placed on the side of your cheek. As if it was cued, he managed to answer your question before you could even ask. "I will not kiss your lips until you allow me to, yeah? I will always wait until you're ready, as I respect---"

Wrong question, but does not beat the fact it was relevant to what you were initially going to ask him. Something along the lines of ‘whether are we going in for the kiss’. You decided to act upon your decision. Closing the short distance between you two, you planted your lips onto his, swallowing his uncertainty to fuel your bravery for the upcoming challenges you will have to face for being Rafayel's girl.

ZAYNE

"So, for this experiment, find someone you can pair up with to write a report based on your findings." Miss Akko instructed, placing the chalk onto her large wooden desk and scanning the crowd for any blank slates. "If you have any questions, you can always come and find me for consultations."

You looked towards the guy sitting next to you, Zayne. Ballpoint pen held in between his long fingers, gliding swiftly against the paper to create a neat yet slanted handwriting. Altough the class had ended, you could tell that he is still very much in his zone, jotting down whatever the teacher had mentioned earlier. If he could record it, you believe that would be the most viable way for him to stay on top of his grades all of the time. His posture relaxed when the last bell of the day rung. "Hey." You called out to him and he turned his head to face you. "Would you like to pair up? For the experiment?"

You had paired up with him for a few times for chemistry class. Being with the smartest kid does earn you a few perks, but he is not much of a talker so sometimes doing assignments with him would result in a crow-cawing awkwardness. "Sure." He nodded his head once and started gathering his reading materials into a pile while standing up.

Zayne has always been a man of a few words. Nodding is his most useful reaction whenever you ask him of something that he is borderline interested in. But if he does not agree with you, then he shall give you the stare that would make you question yourself about the absence of an answer from him. "When do you plan to do---"

"I will see you after class tomorrow." He cut you off, zipping his bag up and pulling it over his broad shoulders effortlessly. "Remember to bring your brain." OOF, COLD. It most likely explains why nobody would usually pair up with Zayne. More like he just refuses to.

Zayne was best known for his good looks and big brain but other than that, he does not have an appealing personality that makes him desirable among girls. Good to admire from afar but not good to interact with. Ever heard of the trend 'He is a 10 but...' . Yeah, that is Zayne's title trend. Only to people who has been in close contact with him. Yeah, he could be a dick with how straightforward he is but you find it as an admirable trait of his. He stabs people with his words, with truths that nobody would dare to say and maybe, you do secretly like him for the way he is.

“Come on Zayne, it’s not like I don’t study or help out with the reports for the past few times.” You rebutted, palms faced upwards and eyebrows knitted closely together. Zayne stood in his spot, expressionless face hiding his amusement. “So I do have a brain!”

He turned towards the direction of the door and started making his way out, not without giving his last statement. “Says the one who can’t even score a decent C grade.” There you stood, in the empty classroom, choked onto the curse words that you were about to throw at him when you heard his statement but you are sure with his lanky legs, he would have been out of earshot by now.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

TAP TAP TAP TAP… Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, reverberating through the empty classrooms. You were late for the meeting with Zayne because you had forgotten to bring your lunch to school today so you ended up having to run down to the vending machine to grab some quick bites. The machine however, betrayed your trust, the ultimate cliche move anyone can think of putting into a filler clip for a movie, when the snack gets stuck during the retrieving period purely because of the vending machine error. You could have easily gotten in trouble if anyone were to spot you with your whole arm shoved into the machine just to grab the item you had literally paid for.

The door slammed open with force and you were greeted with the sight of Zayne in the classroom. With a girl bent halfway down right next to him. You recognised her immediately, the long blond hair with forest green eyes, milky pale skin with a smile that could make anyone faint upon seeing it. She is the school’s student president, Nyla. The both of them perked their heads up, reacting to the sound of the door being slammed opened only to see you standing in the doorway, face flushed from the heat, holding onto your snacks in your hand. “Hey y/n.” The student president grinned, her pearly whites nearly blinded you. “Do you mind giving us some time? We have some personal matters to settle.” Not only does she look pretty, she has a pleasing attitude too? Just great. Pursing your lips, you nodded and went out the same way you came in, sliding the door closed behind you in a more polite manner this time.

“I still can’t believe that you are working on an assignment with her.” Nyla huffed, pushing her hair back with her fingers as she bent down next to Zayne again, staring at his notebook. Nyla had initially wanted to meet up with Zayne regarding the discussion for the upcoming school festival that will be held but eventually, she turned it into her personal chat session with Zayne. “Is she a freeloader most of the time?”

“No.” Zayne replied. “She does her part as I do for mine.” Zayne, at this point had already caught note on what Nyla is trying to do. Provoking a conversation out of him when he is late for the initial assignment arrangement with you bothers him. “I think you had already gotten all of the answers you needed for the school festival.”

“But, I would like to get to know you too.” Nyla sat herself onto the side of his desk, manicured fingers fanned herself in an attempt to cool herself down. “Say, how about we try to go out for a little bit hmm?”

The raven haired young man did not even spared her a glance, eyes focused on his handwritings. “Zayne, come on. Smarty pants with a cute face like you dating me would be the talk of the school for weeks to come.” The pitch of her voice heightens at the end of her sentence and Zayne sighed in frustration. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and exhaled.

“I am not interested in being your pawn.” He glanced at her and her smile faltered, alongside her confidence. “Nor do I find the necessity to feed into the delusions of yours.” The indifference shown on his body language gave her the conclusion she did not expected from him. Her pretentious ‘girl-next-door’ attitude no longer on display. The anger of a spoiled child who gets whatever they want seeped through and she raised her palm, ready to land it onto his cheek but he caught it right before it touches his cheek. “I wouldn’t do it to someone who believes in gender equality.”

Nyla withdrew her hand, strings of curse words falling out of her lips as to save herself from embarrassment and she left the classroom. The young man sat in the room, staring at the new page he had just flipped over on his notebook and he noticed the drawing of a stick man next to the page number. The stick man appeared to be holding onto the number 6 like a hockey stick and the 0 being reimagined as a puck. His lips pulled into a small smile, flashing back to the time when you tried to be sneaky when he was out of the classroom during one of your past assignment pairings, conducting this tomfoolery on his notebook and quickly returning everything back to its original position. But he saw it all, from the crack of the door when he was about to enter the empty classroom. He finds your childlike behaviour amusing after all.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“We are done talking.” You stared up, the blinding sunlight immediately getting shielded by Zayne’s opaque outline. You squinted your eyes narrower only to find that Zayne has his hand stretched out to you, given you are in a seated position. “We should get started on our assignment.” You took his hand and he pulled you up, the sheer size of his palm wrapped around your whole hand easily.

“Here.” You reached your hand into the pocket of your uniform and pulled out a small box of chocolate cookies. “This is for you. It fell out when I was trying to grapple for my sandwich.”

Zayne took the box into his hands, contemplating on the way you got it. “Did the vending machine got stuck again?” Your nod made him smiled a little. “If it gets stuck again next time, you can just ask me to get it for you.”

His sudden suggestion nearly made you choked on the last bite of your egg and cheese sandwich. It is hard to believe he would come out all of the way here to find you, let alone making small talk and telling you that you can ask him to solve your troubles whenever you please? But your dumb brain only believe that he was only trying to be helpful and he is merely thanking you for bringing him a snack. “So what did you guys talk about?” You could not help but to ask as the both of you slowed down your steps to be in sync with one another.

“She wanted me to go out on a date with her.” You were lucky you had finished your sandwich, or else this sentence would have sent you into full on choking mode. You did expect Nyla to ask him out to a certain extent given his popularity, but you were caught off guard that he was even willing to share the details about what had went on behind those closed doors earlier. “I told her that there is not a need to waste her time.”

Hm? You stopped in your footsteps and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” Your lips had blurted out the sentence before your mind is in control and you swallowed the instant regret of the question. Zayne too, stopped in his footsteps and he looked at you, his hazel green orbs stood out more like a lush forest under the blazing sun above your head. When he took a step towards you, your heart lurched, eyes scanning the surroundings for anyone present.

“I already have someone on my mind.” Zayne closed the distance between the both of you. Within arms length, Zayne reached his right hand outwards and held your cheek. An immediate gasp could be heard, the pace of your heartbeat quickened, so as your breath. You could hear your own heartbeat in your head. It does not take a genius for one to unravel who he likes. You stood in front of him, drinking in his gaze that had softened for one of the very few times, and this time he did not snap his head away immediately. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek, soothing the spreading redness that is a result of your realisation regarding his point.

Your eyes lit up and your jaw slacked, eyes frantically searching for a joke within his eyes but when you found no ill intention, you amounted to satisfy your curiosity. “Why…why me?”

His thumb slid down to your jawline, and stopped at your chin. Raising it up just enough for his eyes to be looking into yours and you gulped nervously when he closed the distance between the both of you. He smiled, lips tugged up slightly on both corners because all these while, he knew that the both of you have the same feelings for one another, but he just never really have the opportunity to be alone with you, till now. "You will find out soon enough." Leaning down, Zayne pressed his lips softly against yours to present his confession to you, stealing your first kiss away.

XAVIER

The countdown in your head never fails you. When the minute hand hits 12 on the clock, the bell rung, the teacher looked up from the book he was holding, glasses slid down his nose slightly as he realised his class period had came to an end. "Remember your homework kids. I will see you next week." He announced as the students all got up in sync, bowing and thanking the teacher for his teaching efforts.

As you landed your bum back onto your chair, you heard someone calling your name and your head turned towards the source of the sound. The blond bloke named Xavier sauntered over to you, his eyelids still half closed. "Hey, you going over for the fencing extracurricular later?"

"Yeah I am. Why?" You asked him nonchalantly, all while clearing your items off of the table and placing them into your bagpack. When you do not hear his response, your hands rested on your bag and you looked up at him, squinting your eyes. "Wait. You plan to skip it don't you?"

Xavier's eyes widened and his light eyebrows arched upwards. "What, no. I just..." His right hand reached up to rub the nape of his neck. "I just thought we could walk there together if you'd like."

Sighing in relief you smiled and nodded, pulling your bagpack over your back. You had forgotten to arrange the books you have to bring today hence the load of your bag became a deadweight and it nearly sent you rolling onto the ground. Xavier caught you on time before your face gets planted onto the tiled ground. "Careful. Here, let me help."

"Thanks." The blond young man easily took your bagpack off of your back, slinging it over the side of his shoulder that has his messenger bag hung onto. With the weight of fingerpads pressed against your arm, you flushed red when you realised that he had not released his hold on you. Catching your sight, he trailed it down to your arm and he released his grip, equally embarassed at how long the skinship lasted.

Truth is, you and Xavier are somewhat at the level of best friends. The both of you share the same classes and same taste for food, alongside same extra curricular activities. But recently, you started feeling more and more abashed around him. You would consciously want to look good in front of him; either it be tucking your hair behind your ears, chuckling gently instead of laughing like a troll, ironing your clothes to make it look pressed and neat. You are like becoming a whole different person just for him. But it is not necessarily for the bad.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Clank, Clink, Clank Clank. The sounds of the blades grinding against one another created screeches and clinking, which are not the right music for the ears. You sat a couple of meters away from the mat, eyeing Xavier clad in the metallic polyester jacket that is overlain with a thin, interwoven steel strands in between to provide him protection. Lamés is the right term for the protective gear on his torso. Gasps and mutters could be heard echoing in the huge hall, judgements and commentaries thrown around as the showdown between Xavier and his opponent has been relatively entertaining.

The whole nine minutes, both of the fencers has been extremely aggressive, parrying and lunging against one another whenever an opening is spotted. The race to land 15 touches on the opponent make it an extremely fast and deft sport. The both of them had equated to 14 touches each and this last touch would determine the winner. The referee stood in middle, arms raised midway to insinuate the start of the tie-breaker round. "Pret? Allez!"

The blades then ensued, waving in the air. "Halt." It was called out in two seconds and both of the opponents backed up, standing still in their spots. Your heartbeat thumped, the last you saw was the both of their blades touched both of their respective opponent's foil. It is hard to determine who is the winner. The referee was seen walking over to Xavier and he spoke. "Parrying then riposte, point-in-line is perfect and that forward extension of yours is worth the risk." He grabbed Xavier's arm and raised it, everyone in the hall cheered as Xavier removed his headgear and grinned, eyes landing onto you.

You smiled back, proud that he had manage to win the competition. You stood up when he walked off of the platform, wanting to congratulate him but Chiara beat you to it. "Xavier! You did so well!" The girl bounced over, her curls bounced to her footsteps' rhythm as well. "Oh my god, that was such a fight."

"Thanks." Xavier smiled and she grabbed him by his neck, throwing herself into his arms and you were stunned at her boldness. Xavier however, did not seem fazed as his arms raised up to pat her back. Chiara may just be an amiable individual but your mind abnegated that possibility and only opened its chamber doors to jealousy.

In a disconsolate, nervous manner, you turned and proceeded to walk out of the hall. Your heart thumped hard against your chest like booming speakers in an EDM concert. It also caused a lump to form in your throat. It hurts. Something about her just greeting and hugging him so casually made her wonder why did he never told you about his girlfriend before? He is already mysterious enough but at this point, it felt like a betrayal to you. But then again, he does not owe you that favour to tell you about his dating life if he does not wish to say anything.

Finding a cosy corner next to the herb garden that belonged to the Plant Society, you sat down at the side of the curb and amused yourself with the view of butterflies twirling around blooming flower petals. Amongst the weeds, Magnolia blossoms are most of the denizens found within the small patch of ground. Time passed by, perhaps around a couple of minutes and you heard hurried footsteps in the background but you were too engrossed with the butterfly landing onto a magnolia's carpels that you did not bother to turn around.

"Y/n." Xavier called out. "I had been searching everywhere for you." You turned your head slowly, stopping with only half of your face visible to him. "Did you noticed me winning just now?" "Yeah I did." You pushed yourself off of the curb, dusting the dirt off of your dark skirt and you faced him, gaze catching his chest rather than his cerulean orbs. "In fact, I saw Chiara went up to hug you." Your pout although not shown, it was obvious to Xavier. You are jealous.

He stepped forward and wrapped his lanky arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You were bewildered. In his arms, feeling his warmth spreading to your body and his scent swathed you, he smells like clean sheets and a bubble bath. Perhaps from his change of clothes. "I'm sorry." He spoke, breath batting against the nape of your neck. "I should have rejected her hug right then and there."

"It's okay Xavier, I didn't know you have a girlfriend." You were quick to address your hesitation, ready to take a step back from him but his hold around you tightened, not allowing you to leave his arms.

"She isn't. She isn't my girlfriend, y/n." He slowly pulled back, arms now moved to rest on your shoulder. For a moment, a gleam of wary was ready to surface but Xavier was quick to put out that emotion of his. "I don't think of her anything more than a friend. Unlike you."

Confusion clouded you like a misty apparition above your head. "What about me?" Your index finger pointed towards yourself. "What do you mean by 'unlike me'."

"I like you." His gaze unwavering, genuine intentions full on display. "I had liked you for a very long time y/n." Your jaw dropped to the ground almost instantly. You were not expecting this to happen at all but look at how fate has presented itself. Xavier smiled, his angelic smile akin to his divine features. He would have been mistaken to be an angel if you did not know that the halo around his head is the sun peeking out from the back of his head. “And I think I would very much like you to be my girlfriend instead of her.”

Your eyelids blinked rapidly, eyelashes just a few more blinks away to cool down the redness in your cheeks. As a reflex, your hands flew up to your mouth to mask your excitement, your lips probably pulled into a grin that stretches to both ears. “I…I…” Your stammering further betrayed your feelings and Xavier leaned down, supple hands held onto your wrist and he pulled your hands down, finally being able to see your shyful expression.

“Seeing you like this makes me very happy y/n.” He cupped your cheeks softly, tediously brushing the pads of his thumb across your cheek and he leaned in, planting a kiss onto your lips to officially make you his girlfriend.

Hope this fluff makes your day my lovelies! <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing Pt.2

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You want to keep your relationship quiet for a lil bit following Yoongi’s confession, but subtlety is not quite his thing.(aka, bf Yoongi’s a lil bit of a clingy brat, but we love it). Part 1

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, swearing, reader is referred to as Yoongi’s girlfriend like once, not proofread

A/N: Finally a part 2! This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long, but I hope you guys like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The first thing you became aware of as you woke was the distinct weight of another body pressing on your chest. Cracking your eyes open slowly, you were greeted by the sight of Yoongi half on top of you, sound asleep, small puffs of breath brushing warmly over your skin.

Flickers of the night before flash through your mind as you watch him sleep, a grin of disbelief spreading across your face.

Yoongi showing up at your door, his confession, the feeling of his lips on yours, it all felt like a dream, yet the proof of its reality was right in front of you, snoring lightly.

You stretched slowly, a task made doubly difficult by the fact that still on your couch, you and Yoongi having not made it further through the house before collapsing together.

You hadn’t done much more than kissing, due to Yoongi, god bless him(despite you wanting to strangle him in the moment), wanting to talk everything out and make sure that you were both on the same page about how you felt towards each other.

It had been nearly morning by the time you had fallen asleep, you didn’t know what time it was now, stretching to reach for you phone on the coffee table, causing a low whine to emit from the sleeping form on your chest, tired arms wrapping tightly around your waist to hold you down, preventing you from moving further.

“Don’t, ‘m comfy.” Yoongi grumbled.

“I’m just trying to check the time.” You chuckled.

“Time is a capitalistic social construct.” He groaned, rubbing his face against the material of your shirt. “It’s too early to be moving, that’s all you need to know.”

You laughed again, the vibrations in your chest finally drawing him into full consciousness.

He lifted his head enough to meet your eyes, propping his chin on your chest. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You grinned.

There’s something singularly unique about experiencing something for the first time, an exciting uncertainty like the pause just before the drop on a rollercoaster. That’s what it felt as you stared at Yoongi, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he shifted enough to connect his mouth with yours.

You let out a contented sigh, parting your lips just enough for him to take advantage of, slipping his tongue inside with a fervor, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

He let one hand drop to your waist, slipping beneath the thin fabric of your sleep top, the other settling at the base of your neck, anchoring you to him as he pressed your hips down into the cushions with his own.

By the time you came up for air, the atmosphere around the two of you had shifted considerably, any traces of your earlier drowsiness long gone.

You were fully underneath him now, his hands positioned on either side of your head, his eyes holding the same dark craving that they had last night, his mouth swollen and red from your continued assaults on it.

You reached up slowly, tucking a messy strand of hair behind his ear, taking in the way the midday light gave his skin a soft, golden hue. He was truly so beautiful.

His soft laughter brushed over your face like a morning breeze.

“What’s that look for?” He asked, taking in your dreamy expression.

“I-” Before you could form a proper response, the moment was shattered by the ping of your phone.

You sat up slowly, Yoongi managing shift so that he was still wrapped around you as you did so.

Glancing down at the screen, you tapped on a new message from Jimin.

What time should I pick you up tomorrow?

Tomorrow? With everything that had happened last night, you had almost forgotten that you had asked Jimin to help you go furniture shopping.

Sorry Chim, smth came up and I can’t go tomor-

“Why can’t you go?” Yoongi asked, peering at the screen over your shoulder.

You looked up at him quizzically. “I thought you didn’t like me going with him?”

“I didn’t like it because you were ignoring me, I don’t have any issues with you hanging out with Jimin.” He shrugged. “I’ll even go with you.”

You blinked at him. “What, as like a couple?”

“Maybe, is that too soon?” He tilted his head at you.

“I don’t know...” You bit your lip. So much had changed in the past twelve hours. Last night, you were afraid that you were losing one of your best friends, now he was more or less asking you on a date? Did this even count as a date? You weren’t sure. What about Jimin? Would this make him feel uncomfortable? The three of you had hung out together before, but now-

“We don’t have to say anything yet if you don’t want to.” He offered, as if sensing your spiraling train of thought. “I’ll just tag along in case you guys need help with anything. Plus, my car has more room.”

His words helped calm your mind. You nodded. “Okay.”

He grinned, leaning in to press kisses to your face as you tried to type out a quick reply to Jimin.

Slight change of plans-

“So you guys are done fighting?” Jimin asked as he climbed into the back seat the next day.

“We weren’t fighting.” You replied, shooting him a look.

“Sure seemed like it.” He muttered under his breath.

“We weren’t fighting-”

“But if we were, we’re done now.” Yoongi said, shooting you a smirk.

You slumped back in your seat with an annoyed huff.

“Yeah, okay.” Jimin snickered. “So what are we looking for today, Y/n?”

The drive passed rather comfortably, Yoongi leaving you and Jimin to do majority of the talking for the most part, smiling to himself as the two of you argued over differences in interior design preferences and color palettes.

Things felt pretty much back to normal, until he noticed you shiver slightly out the corner of his eye as he was parking.

”Are you cold?” He asked, glancing over at you with a frown.

“I just forgot my jacket, it’s fine.” You said dismissively, getting out of the car, but Yoongi was having none of it.

“Nope.” He quickly rounded the car to you, shrugging off his jacket and holding it out for you to put on. “Here.”

“I’m fine.” You argued.

“I don’t want you to be cold, put it on.” He insisted.

��But what about you?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it, just put the jacket on.”

“Yoongi-”

“Please?” His eyes softened as he looked at you, making your stomach do a tiny somersault.

Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing, that was the same look he gave you whenever he wanted his way, the same look he’d given you to keep you cuddled up with him till almost 3 in the afternoon the day before.

“Fine.” You sighed, slipping your arms into the sleeves, letting the slightly oversized article envelope you.

You turned back to face him. “Happy?”

“Yes.” He said with another pointed smirk.

Jimin, who stood behind the two of you, watching the whole bizarre exchange with a baffled expression, cleared his throat.

“Soo, are we ready to go?” He asked, pulling you both back to attention.

When Yoongi had said you didn’t have to say anything about your relationship yet, you had thought that also meant that Yoongi was going to act the same as he normally did.

You soon found out that that wasn’t the case.

He wasn’t overly obvious about wanting to be closer to you than usual, but he wasn’t exactly subtle about it either. Brushing your hair out your face for you, grabbing your wrist to draw your attention to certain items and then “forgetting” to let go, and generally just sticking to your side as much as possible.

It wasn’t like he was trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, but after the past week of you ignoring him, he wanted to tease you just a little bit. He knew how easily flustered you were, and was taking a great deal of enjoyment out of trying to raise the color in your cheeks.

While you were mainly choosing to ignore his ‘odd’ behavior, Jimin was absolutely stunned.

“Okay, what the fuck is up with you and Y/n?!” He hissed as soon as you were out of earshot.

“Don’t worry about it” Yoongi said simply, finding the lamp display in front of them much more interesting.

“Don’t worry abou-?!” Jimin stared at him in disbelief, wanting to press further, but seeing you approaching, he let it drop for the moment.

The way Yoongi’s expression brightened as you rejoined the group however, told Jimin far more than he knew his hyung ever would.

It wasn’t until later that evening as you were helping him unload a few things he picked out that he spoke about it again.

“So, when you and Yoongi get married, can I be your best man?” He asked, only half teasing.

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You said, ignoring his question.

“G’night.” He grinned, hugging you.

“I’m really happy for you.” He mumbled into your shoulder, causing your eyes to prick with tears as the sudden wave of emotions hit you.

“Thank you, Chim.” You whispered, squeezing him tighter.

When you finally separated, you could see his eyes were shining similarly to your own.

“If he ever hurts you, I’m gonna kick his ass, just so you know.” He cautioned.

You let out a wet laugh.

“Good to know.” You nodded. “Night, Chim.”

“Goodnight.”

When you got back to the car, Yoongi was smiling knowingly at you.

“Did you have a nice time today?” He asked pleasantly.

“Mhm, my boyfriend was being kinda weird though.” You said, settling into the passenger seat. “Kinda clingy.”

“Maybe that’s just because you’re not familiar with boyfriend Yoongi.” He said. “We’ll have to give you a crash course on it.”

“I look forward to it.” You said with a grin. “So then, what does boyfriend Yoongi do when his girlfriend is tired and hungry?”

“Typically, buys her favorite dinner and makes her go to bed at a reasonable hour.”

“Sounds good, except for that last part.” You replied, stifling a yawn.

“Would it sound better if I told you that it also includes said boyfriend staying over and cuddling?” He offered.

“Yes, it would.” You grinned.

“Then it’s settled.” He started the car.

“Jimin said he’ll kick your ass if you ever hurt me, by the way.”

“I don’t plan on ever giving him a reason to do that.” He replied, resting a hand on your thigh as he drove, making you smile.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts requests #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts fluff #7ndipity

[sassypossumm]

A Mistake

Aemond Targaryen isn't the easiest man to love, he's an even harder man to forget...

Heaving a sigh, you rested a hand on your growing stomach and looked up at the sky. The trees swayed with the wind, and a lone eagle flew overhead. Lost in your observation of the sky, you failed to notice the heavy footfall through the snow approaching you.

Turning, you took in the profile of the man standing next to you. The man who at one time upon first sight, you’d have run to with reckless abandon and flung your arms around. Looking forward again you sniffed and pulled your cloak tighter about yourself. Tense silence filled the expanse between you.

“I see you finally gave into your carnal desires for my brother.” Aemond turned his head to look at you. You met his eye briefly.

“He wasn’t the Targaryen brother I was first attracted to.” Casting your eyes forward again, you followed the flight arch of the eagle.

Were it not for the piercing cry of the eagle, you might’ve sworn that your mind’s eye was casting this scene about you. Unfortunately, you were still tethered to this plane of reality, and Aemond was very real, and very much standing next to you. And after all this time, you could still hear the storm of thoughts roaring in his mind.

“And yet, you married Aegon.” You closed your eyes. There it was. The condescending tone, the cold stare. Balling your fist, you whirled to look Aemond full in the face. I loved YOU. The words were on the tip of your tongue, screaming to be released. But you couldn’t give him that.

You wouldn’t give him that.

“He stayed.”

 I loved you.

“I came back.” Turning away, you wrapped your arms around yourself and closed your eyes.

“You left me.” You hated how small your voice sounded on that last word. Your vulnerability was the last thing you wanted to give this man.

“Sweetling,”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore!” You spat, turning to glare at him. “Do you think I cared about all the rest, Aemond?” Dashing away hot tears from your eyes, you stepped towards him, driving him back a step. Jabbing him in the chest with a finger you looked up at him angrily. “You. Left. Me.” Sniffing deeply you felt yet another stubborn tear trailing down your cheek. As you reached to wipe it away, Aemond beat you to it, running the pad of his thumb across the moisture.

“Sweetling” He whispered. Reveling in his touch after being so long without it, your eyes fluttered shut and you rested your hand over his. “You’re trembling.” Aemond said gently lacing your fingers through his. Shaking your head, you kissed the back of his hand and pressed it to your cheek.

“Why do you do this to me?” You groaned when he rested his forehead against yours.

“Do what, dear heart?” His voice was low, as if he feared that were he to speak louder, the tentative peace between you might be severed. Pulling back, you searched his eye, pain and remorse warred with the lusty haze clouding its violet depths. Ducking his head, Aemond dusted kisses across your jaw.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, running your fingers through his silvery hair. Feather light pecks turned to hungry open-mouthed kisses as Aemond reached the column of your neck. “Oh my.” The breathy quality in your voice drew his eye back to yours, and your breath caught on his blown-out pupil.

“Have I told you how much I admire your neck, my love?” Threading his hand through your hair, he gripped the back of your head and tilted your face up towards his own.

“N-not to my recollection.” You struggled to keep up with your thundering heart.

“Hm.” His eye dipped from yours back to your neck. “My apologies then.” Nuzzling the side of your jaw, he nibbled at the tender skin over your fluttering pulse before sucking harshly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Does Aegon touch you like this?” Pulling back, Aemond examined his handy work before locking his eyes on yours.

“Huh?” Eyes fluttering open, the roaring in your ears clouded out whatever he was trying to say.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He leaned closer to the mark again and slowly lathed his tongue over the forming bruise. You clapped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment of the loud moan you released at that. Aemond smirked against your skin and ran his tongue towards your collar bone.

“Aemond.” Your voice was no more than a pitiful whimper at this point, but you didn’t care. With all the strength you could muster, you pulled at his hair trying to bring his head, and more importantly his lips back towards your own. Eagerly he complied, raising up to cup your face with both hands, running his thumbs across your jaw.

“Yes, dear heart?” He whispered, nuzzling your nose with his own. Anchoring both hands in his hair you tried tugging him downward, but he stayed immovable like a boulder.

“Please.” Closing your eyes, you bit back tears.

“Please what, darling?” You huffed, annoyed at the teasing in his voice. You were in no gaming mood.

“Kiss me.”

“All you had to do was,” None too gently you cut off his words with your mouth on his. A muffled sound of complaint came from his lips, but you quickly quieted it with your insistent kisses. Aemond tilted your face with a touch that suggested he feared you might vanish if he applied too much pressure. Deepening the kiss with a sweep of his tongue into your mouth, any sense of you having any control over this exchange was quickly dashed.

Rising on tip toe, you ran your fingers through his hair while rolling your tongue over his sweeping into his mouth, returning the favor. Aemond groaned into your mouth at the action, a sound which you immediately swallowed and exchanged for one of your own. His free arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Darling.” Aemond moaned, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. Peppering kisses over your cheek, he reached your throat to suck and nibble his way to the hollow of your throat.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him closer to your own with a hand through his hair. Reaching your collar bone, he nosed at the bone before trailing kisses suggestively lower towards the neckline of your dress.

“Ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” His eyes met yours.

“You remember.” A gentle smile played on your lips.

“Of course, I remember.” Aemond chuckled, running his hand down your side to rest on your hip. His attention strayed again to the neckline of your dress. Never breaking eye contact with you, he worried about the material with his teeth.

Running his hand lower, he gripped your thigh and raised your leg to hook around his hip, pulling you closer. Kneading the muscle of your thigh he kissed his was back up your neck towards your lips. Sucking your bottom lip gently between his own, Aemond rolled his hips into yours.

“I remember every time I admired you.” Another roll of his hips drew a moan from your lips. Your hips began languidly grinding into his of their own accord. “Every time I worshipped you, ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” Resting his forehead against yours, Aemond gripped your thigh tighter and pulled you more fully against his hardening length. And there it was.

Dread rushed through your veins like cold ice water. This was not supposed to be happening.

“Aemond.” Clearing your throat, you pushed at his shoulder. He hadn’t seemed to notice that you’d went ridged in his arms, if the groan that fell from his lips when he ground against your core was any indication. “Aemond, stop!” You shoved at his shoulder more firmly this time. Aemond paused to look up at you, confusion clouding out the lust in his eye.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you pulled yourself free of his embrace and took several steps back.

“This was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” His expression morphed from confused to angry. “You hump me like a bitch in heat, and call it a mistake?”  Aemond hissed, quickly advancing on your retreating steps. Grabbing your wrist in a vice-like grip, he towered over you menacingly. “Tell me, what can Aegon possibly have to offer you that I don’t possess tenfold?” Your face burned at his words, but nonetheless you held your ground. Wrenching your hand free of his grip, you planted your hands on your hips and glared at him.

“Aegon could offer me honesty. Trust.” Aemond folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

“How trite.” You didn’t flinch at the scorn in his tone.

“On the contrary, Aemond.” Mirroring his stance, you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’d be surprised how much passion there can be with honesty and trust.” Aemond merely smirked and slowly stepped towards you. Bending slightly so you were eye level, he narrowed his eyes.

“And how are honesty and trust working out for you, darling, tell me, does my brother fuck other ladies while you dally with me?” He spat the words at you. Shame crawled up your neck and rested behind your eyes in the form of unshed tears.

“It was a mistake.” You whispered, tightening your arms about yourself and turning so he couldn’t see you cry. The satisfied smirk fell from his face at your tears. Scrambling for purchase on your shoulders, he gently turned you towards him and pulled a cloth from his pocket.

“No, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m sorry.” Tilting your chin up he met your eye and dabbed at the tears. Sniffing, you reached for the cloth and dried your own eyes.

“This won’t happen again, Aemond.” Taking a step back, you pocketed the cloth and firmed your features. He frowned.

“Darling,”

“You may call me by my name, or even sister,”  

“Sister!” Aemond chuckled darkly. Folding his arms again, he raked his eyes over your form before returning to your eyes. “I’ve been your lover, known every inch of skin under that hideous dress,” Coming closer he lowered his voice and grinned, a cruel twisted thing. “Heard you scream my name in ecstasy at my touch, and you want me to call you sister?” Pulling back, he barked out a laugh.

“You can be a cruel man, Aemond Targaryen.” You hissed, narrowing your eyes. Aemond nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. But no crueler than you, dear sister.” Shame heated your face again. He wasn’t wrong.

“I wasn’t the one that left, Aemond.”

“I won’t apologize, sister.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize, Aemond. You made that decision for yourself; I hope you don’t regret it.” Aemond looked up at the sky and sighed before turning his eye back on you. Trepidation and uncertainty now swam in its depths.

“And if I said I do.” Pausing, he took a step forward. “If I said I do regret it, ñuha jorrāeliarzy?” Shaking your head, you turned away and rested both hands over the faint fluttering in your stomach.

“You no longer have that luxury, ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” You could feel him tense at the endearment. Casting your eyes over your shoulder you gave him a sad smile. 

TL: @feyhunter78

#prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon

[seresinhangmanjake]

Mark of Luck

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

Summary: You give Feyd your mark of luck before he enters the arena. 

Words: 600

Notes/Warnings: Part of The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim, but I don’t think they have to be read to understand this. I doubt lipstick tubes are a thing in the Dune universe, but let’s pretend. Also, pregnancy. Fluff

Feyd Masterlist

“Open a little,” Feyd says as he lightly grasps your chin between his fingers. 

You part your lips the slightest as Feyd lines the tube of lipstick up with your mouth. The deep black shade slides smoothly across your bottom lip with the motion of his hand. Then he swipes the stick along your upper lip, dabbing here and there to ensure your mouth is richly coated. 

“There,” he says, satisfied. He caps the tube and tosses it on the bed behind you. “Beautiful.”

You smile, taking his hand so he can help you sit comfortably atop the mattress. Once you're seated, you place your hands at his waist and lean in to press a kiss to the scar your brother inflicted during their duel on Arrakis a handful of months ago.

On that day, you thought you'd lost the man you love, but he survived, and ever since, you've marked that line of raised skin on his abdomen with your kiss before he enters any battle. A reminder to you both that if he is strong enough to have cheated death, he is strong enough to defeat his opponents, no matter how many he faces. It's become a token of luck from you, and from your unborn son, that you like to believe is quite effective.

You draw back to examine the perfect imprint of your lips on his skin. 

“Will you come watch me today?” he asks as he tucks a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “Or is our son making you too nauseous for the arena?”

You run your hand over your swollen belly. “A bit nauseous, I'm afraid,” you sigh. You love your baby, but he has definitely put your body through it, and even with only two months left of your pregnancy, you still encounter symptoms the midwife said would pass after the first trimester.

Feyd leans down to kiss your forehead, then lower to meet your lips. “Maybe he's just eager to join us.”

You chuckle. “His incessant kicking would indicate so.” With your thumb, you wipe away all traces of the black hue from your husband's mouth. 

“Then rest,” he tells you. “And when I'm back we can have our bath, hmm?”

You grin at the thought. Another one of your rituals around his fights in the arena. When he returns to you, you always run enough warm water to fill the tub, settle in with him, and wash the blood of his victims from his body, which, more often than not, leads to other activities.

You nod. “Yes.”

“I love you,” he says, giving you one more long kiss. Then his hand joins yours on your stomach, eyes lighting up when your son’s little foot pushes against his palm. 

“I love you,” you repeat back to him. “We love you. So you better fight well for us, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.”

Feyd takes your hand and guides it to his heart. Ferocious beats thump against your palm, the steady rhythm reminding you so much of the strength and will of your baby. You can feel him through your shared bond as he grows within your body, and he is his father’s son—another Harkonnen to prove the resilience of this Great House. Just like your husband, your boy will be brave, he will be powerful, and he will have the same thirst for the fight.

Feyd’s thumb strokes over your knuckles as he says, “I always do.”

---

tags: @avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2

[bratbby333]

nsfw 𓆩⟡𓆪 mdni !!

dating toji feels like an 808 bass drum pounding in your chest...

...and his thick cock feels the exact same way as it ruins your pretty little pussy

cw: fem!reader, public sex, p in v, rough sex, pet names (doll, pretty girl)

he's over protective and territorial, his brooding jealousy and tight grip on your waist shoots pangs of arousal through you whenever the two of you go out. blood rushes to your eardrums, the rhythmic thump mimicking the pulse in your core.

he loves making it known that you’re his. he’s like your own personal bodyguard, scowling at anyone in the bar who dares to let their eyes linger too long on his pretty girl.

you attempt to ignore the gnawing ache in your core, but god does he make it hard. he doesn’t even have to do much either—he’s practically trained your body to respond to him regardless of what he’s doing.

he voices how pretty you are in a raspy whisper against your neck, nipping at the skin behind your ear. his large hand cups the small of your back, grips your hip tight— honestly whatever he can get his hands on. his fingers run up and down your thigh, digging his fingers into the squishy flesh, a bruising reminder of who you belong to. if you’re feeling real bold, sometimes you try and rile him up on purpose just to get a good, nasty fuck outta him.

and you always succeed.

your plan is set in motion when he gets up from the table to grab another round of drinks, shamelessly allowing some drunkard to flirt with you.

silly, silly girl. oh, you've done it now.

toji's a multifaceted lover; nice n slow sometimes, brutal and mean the next. a jack of all trades. you never really know what you're gonna get—which is why you're eyes are blown wide, your breath stuck in your throat while he has you pushed against the sink in the bathroom, fucking himself deep into you.

to be fair, this is the outcome you wanted, but you didn't expect it here. you know just the right way to push his buttons.

he wraps his fist around your throat, squeezing your sensitive skin so tightly, his hips meeting your ass with every unforgiving stroke.

he's just so thick, you'd think you'd be used to it by now, but it's like you're taking him for the first time all over again. but god, you just cannot get enough of the way he stretches you...the sweet burn of his girth coupled with the fat head of his cock that seems to brush into your g spot without failure...your gushy walls swallowing him whole, the squelching sounds ringing through the bathroom, bouncing off the linoleum walls.

he just knows his pretty girl too well. his hips snapping over and over and over, driving himself so fucking deep. his veins rubbing against the pillowy walls of your pussy. the pretty whines that can't help but escape your lips.

poor thing, you're trying so hard to keep quiet, but he's fucking you so hard and he's so deep, you can't help but cry out for him.

his fist wraps around your hair, pulling your head up. "look at you," he'd coo, his voice raspy, "so pretty while yer takin' my cock," his pace is unyielding, and his eyes bore into yours with every push.

your sinful ahh's and ooo's and oh fuck's are silenced by a firm hand over your mouth. "keep quiet, pretty girl. don't wanna get caught now do we?" your head shakes, your tummy churning with pleasure as he pounds into you.

maybe if he wasn't fucking you so hard you'd be able to keep it down. he's so smug, so teasing. his eyes dare you to make another sound, his cock taunting you to cry out once more. "you gonna cum?" you whine into his hand as sweet tears brim behind your eyes, your head bouncing up and down in confirmation.

"that's it, c'mon...be good f'me." his words send chills down your body as his fingers draw quick circles into your clit. the tightness in your core finally snaps as you choke on your moans, your orgasm clawing its way through you. his follows soon after, unable to resist the delicious clenching and spasming of your walls as you milk his load from his heavy balls. his thick seed coats your insides, a mixture of both your cum dribbling out around his cock and trickling down your thighs.

he quickly pulls out and slides your panties back up, a dark spot appearing immediately from the fluids that are spilling from you. your thighs tremble and knees buckle as you work to regain your breath. he chuckles at the sight, "yer okay, did s'good."

he stares at your reflection in the mirror as he tucks himself back into his jeans, a look of accomplishment and a cocky smirk pulling at his cheeks at the thought you walking around full of him, a sticky reminder of you really belong to.

"c'mon, doll, let's get back out there."

#support banner from benkeibear #manga panel from twitter #dividers by cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #toji zenin #zenin toji #jjk #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #bratbby333

[obsessive-valentine]

How would Dark-Yandere!Farmer react to finding reader taking Polaroid photo shoots of his retired senior dogs in silly clothing like sunglasses, hair clips, etc. Btw love your writing keep up the good work!🫶🏼

Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

TW - Readers def developing Stockholm Syndrome or something of the sort, nothing else though this fix is sweeter as an apology for the intense one last time about reader being punished. This was meant to be a qick paragraph or two as an answer but I got to deep into lore and this sweet scenario as it’s a side of him we don’t see much. Thanks for the idea glad you’re liking this blog❤️

I’ll proof read later

You’d expressed an interest in his old cameras after he let you rummage through a few boxes he’d stored away. In a box he’s got a old digital camera a Polaroid one and then a really fragile one that’s much older than the rest, you didn’t dare pick it up in fear it would fall adapt just by touch. Then at the bottom of the box, a few images, some developed film some printed. You recognised him in some home images or family portraits, he looked like a happy kid with a cheesy grin sometimes even pictured on this very farm but most of them look to be taken in a small town house.

It’s weird to imagine at one point he was just a normal kid, living a normal life, photos of him blowing out candles on his birthday or with some older family members reminded you that no ones born ‘bad’. Makes you wonder why he’s the way he is now, what happened?

A part of you wanted to take one of those sweet images of him as a child and hide it away, to uncover and re-remind yourself he’s not a living monster but a human and a kind one at times. To ground yourself when he gets angry and all you can see him as is a living demon. To set the aspiration that if he was once so -he can be again.

You recognised a woman from the images as his mother because he kept a image of her in the bedside draw, she looked loving and kind. But he’d never talk about her, answering your careful questions about her with “she was a good mother” or “she was an admirable woman” he seemed emotionally withdrawn about it so you didn’t push it. You figured since she’s dead he’s just remembering her face.

The rest of the pictures seemed to be from the building of this farm, dated on the back in scruffy hands writing, maybe by his father or grandfather. You could look through this pile of history for hours, not just to learn more about your captor but about the history of this place and the his family that he’s so reluctant to talk about.

The ladder to the attic creaks behind you and his distinct heavy boots land with a thud and groan on the ladder steps “what’s got you so occupied up here?” You felt like you’d been caught looking in something you shouldn’t have despite having permission “j-just these cameras, I had a polaroid camera once” you turned to him showing him the old camera, he now off the ladder and standing over you.

“Hmm, old thing -maybe older than us” he gently took it from you hands to inspect it “probably still works if you want it, not any use just sitting up here” he hands it back “thank you” you reply with a smile he waves you off and crouches down beside the box with you. He shuffles through it completely ignoring the images from his past and he rummages in search of something “No film stacks though, I’ll pick some up from town next time”

“Really?” You look over at him in excitement, he shrugs “sure” he stands up ready to head back down stairs “had I known you’d be so happy I’d have gotten you one sooner” he chuckles at your excitement over something so small.

To you it’s much more than a old camera to take up some free time when you get bored. It’s yours, you can control it, keep it for your own. You don’t have much things that’s yours anymore but the collections growing.

...

You’d basically forgotten about getting film for your camera as a week or two had passed. But he hadn’t, he returned to the truck once again being one of may shops he had to stop at. But this time he didn’t have heavy bags of stock or material and tools for the farm but just 3 small boxes that he could carry in just one hand.

He sat down in his seat and extended his hand to give you the boxed, you furrowed your brows in confusion until you read one of the box’s. A big smile plastered you face when you got to the word ‘film’ “that should be enough to last you a long while” “thank you” you grinned giving him a quick hug out of appreciation.

Once you both pulled into the driveway of the farm you had already thought up many picture opportunities, and you couldn’t wait to get to it. The car parked and he gave you the go ahead “You can finally get to your photography, take some pretty pictures” you practically ran to the house to retrieve the camera.

...

You’d been in the house for a hour or two at this point and he’d began to get a bit concerned, usually you’d come outside now and then or spend the afternoon in the barn playing with the animals. But no sign of you. He put the final nail into the fence he was fixing and decided to come check on you.

He got to the front door and could hear you laughing before even opening it “good boy Berty, you’re so handsome” his curiosity peaked at those words, he quietly made his way to the room you and presumably Berty the elderly farm dog was in and observed from the door frame.

There you sat, infront of Berty whose dressed up in various items and fabrics mimicking clothes. The camera clicks and your silent as you watch it develop, Berty still sits patiently. “We got the picture, look at how dapper you look” you praise him and he gets exited leaving all the items fall off his as he runs up to you to get pet.

“When I said pretty pictures I was envisioning landscapes or with artistic vision” he jokes still standing in the door way unable to not smile at such a bizarre but cute sight. You stand shocked for a moment, he’s not one to creep up on you, it when you see his amused smile you loosen back up. “This is artistic vision, and Bertys my muse, look at how handsome” you joke and show him the photo “it’s something alright” he almost laughs out.

“Hey, this is worthy of a museum, the composition the choice of colours the muse, it all tells a story” you continue to joke, he just shakes his head unable to wipe away his smile “as long as your happy, I guess” “I am, thank you again” moments like this you forget everything you went though and are able to exist in ignorance.

Those moments are becoming more frequent now especially since he’s began to become more relaxed, he wasn’t as authoritarian anymore, your sure if you pushed it he wouldn’t have a 2nd thought of going back to the way things were. There’s always that lingering threat but it’s not as pronounced anymore. You’re starting to see the love he has for you, sometimes unconventional and deranged possessiveness but moments like this, seeing him smile and joke you can delude yourself into believing he’s a normal partner.

He brings you in closer by the hips “you’re so cute” his grin is akin to the little boy in those pictures, you’ve seemed to restore a part of his childish cheer. He pecks your lips “I bet the barn animals are missing you, maybe you should take this photography session to them, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the attention”

And that’s what you did, dressed up the chickens though they didn’t stay still -the cows were great models -but a few animals tried to eat the accessories and clothing which made things harder. The farmer got less work done than normal that afternoon as he found it quite amusing and cute watching you through the cracked barn door trying to wrestle a bow onto a goat.

#yandere oc #yandere #x reader #yandere farmer #Val-Asks

[riki-riks-chick]

thoughts on pussydrunk heeseung with a shy reader?

pussy drunk heeseung i feel is at the back of my mind endlessly.

I feel like he would love the fact that he can make y/n even more shy when he's between her legs. He's probably just aimlessly licking and sucking, and y/n is soaking it all up.

I think y/n would moan so loudly, tugging at Heeseung's messy hair, thighs draped over his shoulders and squeezing around his head to pull him even closer.

And Heeseung would tease, wanting nothing more than to make y/n tremble. "You like that baby?... You taste so fucking good.. I love eating your pretty little pussy."

Heeseung is probably just as into it as she would be, getting lost with every orgasm he draws out of y/n. The way she's dripping for him, the way she moans his name. He loves it, so much it's actually sickening.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung enha #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: i'm so tired.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Sy’s hand crawls up your thigh and his fingertips edge beneath the hem of your skirt. You squirm, his arm keeping you on top of him as fear surges up your spine. His heat is unbearable. It roils off of him with his hunger as his touch creeps higher beneath the fabric. 

His groans are like growls. He’s like an animal, he’s ready to devour you. You squeak, nearly choking on his invading tongue, and your teeth clamp down. You quickly recoil as the shock of your bite makes him grunt and his arms fall away from you. You back off of him, crashing down onto the floor as he covers his mouth with a large hand. 

Oh no. He sits up as you shakily push yourself up to your knees. You pout at him as his eyes flare. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you squeak. You genuinely didn’t. “I couldn’t... breathe.” 

“Mm,” his cheeks dimple as he grimaces and taps the tip of his tongue, “mmph, sweetie,” he grits out, “it’s... okay.” 

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat. 

“Come here,” he reaches for you as you stand, “I should be sorry, sweetie,” he drags you closer as your feet drag reluctantly, “I was too much. How about you...” he runs his calloused palms down your arms and leads your hands to his shoulders. “take control.” 

“Control?” You gulp as your eyes go wide. “Um, Sy,” you sniffle, “what... what if I’m not ready?” 

“It’s alright,” he coaxes as he puts his large hands on your hips, framing them as he urges you closer, “we don’t gotta get crazy.” 

He draws you closer, until your forced into his lap. He sits back against the couch as he tilts his head up. Your grasp his shoulders tight to keep yourself steady. He purrs at your grip on him. He bites his lip as his blue eyes gleam up at you. 

“Just take it slow,” he rasps as he reaches to your hands again, moving them over his bear chest. You feel the hair there, softer than your expect, and the firmness of the muscle beneath, the heat radiating from him. “Mmm...” 

His hands drift away from yours and he tickles along your sides. He pokes the tips of his thumbs above your skirt and slips beneath the hem of the tank top. Slowly, he rolls the fabric up your torso and you shudder. You pull your arms back and fold them defensively to keep him from lifting the shirt past your chest. 

“Sy, please--” you beg. 

“I just wanna see you, sweetie,” he purrs, “you’re so gorgeous, huh?” 

“I said I’m not ready,” you keep your arms crossed. 

He sighs and lifts his head complete. He looks at you, a line in his forehead. Your heart hitches at the shadow in his pupils. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Not ready?” He scoffs and tugs the shirt again, “what’re you being shy for? It’s just skin, sweetie.” 

He yanks and you nearly fall backwards with his force. You throw your arms out to keep from toppling back and he catches you with a hand around your back. He holds you up as he peels the shirt higher, revealing your pure white bra. A brutish noise escapes him. 

“Mmm, you’re beautiful, sweetie,” he murmurs as his hand cups one side of your chest, “perfect, just like I knew.” 

You grab his hand and try to push it away, “Sy--” 

“You saved all this for me,” he snarls and leans forward, “I waited so long for you too, sweetie.” 

“Sy,” your voice peaks as you grab his thick wrist, “you said-- just looking--” 

“I can’t help myself,” he grits as he kneads you through your bra, your resistance futile against his easy strength. You feel a shift under you, the prodding of his impatience. “You’re just so gorgeous.” 

“Please,” your voice crackle, “please, you’re scaring me. I said... I said I’m not ready.” 

“Gimme a kiss, sweetie,” he demands, “come on. Just a kiss.” 

“Sy--” 

He leans towards you, crowding you as his hand slips up your back, pushing you towards him. You’re smothered against him, lips brushing his thick beard before they find his. He’s just as bold and relentless as before. His tongue smears over your lips and forces its way into your mouth. You let out a strangled noise. 

He growls hungrily as he kisses you. You can only let him as you brace his chest and whine. His hand trails down and dips beneath your skirt. He delves under the fabric and spreads his fingers across one side of your ass. He purrs as his lips drag across your cheek. His beard is prickly against you as his breath dampens your skin. 

“You know what got me through, baby?” He rasps as he gropes you and forces your pelvis snug to his. You can feel him. He’s... excited. “I’d just think of you... like this...” He snarls and nuzzles along your neck, the thick hair around his neck poking you as he nips, “sometimes other ways.” 

He puffs against your throat, kissing and biting as he rocks your hips against him. The front of your panties are firmly against his rigid length. You sink your nails into his chest, trying to push off of him. It’s a powerless fight. 

“I always like to think of you on top,” he continues, his nose tickling along your skin, “but then I’d take over. Roll you onto your back... cause I need you so bad.” 

He flips you suddenly. You cry out as you land on the cushions, bouncing beneath him as he stays between your legs. He pins you, his head bowed to your neck still as he dotes with his mouth. His fingertips trace the edge of you panties, pulling the across your ass to bare one cheek. He feels along the curve of your bottom, lingering just short of your cunt. 

He rolls his pelvis, pressing against you as he ruts. The layers of fabric feel thinner as he rocks, puffing and panting as the friction clusters between you. You beat on his shoulders and writhe, turning your head out as you kick your foot into the cushion. 

“Sy, stop, please... you’re hurting me,” you plead, “Sy...” 

He doesn’t listen. You don’t know if he can even hear you. He’s so wrapped up in his animalistic pleasure, rocking and growling, nails scratching, teeth pinching. You roll your eyes back against the hot flow behind them. This can’t be happening. 

It isn’t the worst he could do. That thought turns your blood cold, and yet it’s horrible. It’s terrifying how easily he’s bowled you over. How he’s doing whatever he wants and you don’t have a choice but to let him. Just like he strolled into your life, he will do the same as he invades every part of it. 

“Baby, I hurt too,” he purrs, “I hurt so bad for you. Over there... in the shit...” he lets out gritty breaths between words, “I only wanted this... got through it... for you...” 

“Sy, stop, please,” you beg, “I’m scared. It hurts--” 

“Ain’t even in you yet,” he kisses along your neck and chin, “it’s okay, sweetie, you’re okay. You know I’ll take care of you.” 

He lifts his head and presses his nose against yours, his forehead flush with yours. His teeth clench as a low drone rises from his throat and he closes his eyes. His motion is almost frantic as the couch shakes beneath you. If this is what it’s like now, what will it be like when he does more? 

Your body locks up at the thought. When, not if. He’s as much as said it. He’s going to go all the way. He’s going to take all of you. He shifts and kisses you again, suffocating you as his breath turns rampant and he ruts hard against your pelvis. 

He whimpers and shakes, squeezing your ass until the crescents of his nails bite into your skin. He gives several sharp thrusts, enough to make your bones ache, then drops his weight onto you. His mouth parts from yours and he hangs his head. You are crushed beneath him as he pants down at the cushion beside your ear. 

Your arms are bent beneath him, your hands balled in fists, your joints locked up as you splay around him. He groans and a sob bubbles up your throat. You can’t hold it back any longer. You tremble and turn your head out. 

“Get off,” you snivel, “please, get off of me... get off--” 

“Baby, I didn’t hurt you,” he plants his elbow and raises his head, keeping you trapped under him, “why ya cryin’? We’re just having some fun?” 

“I said... I said... n-no,” you babble, “please, I c-can’t breathe. Get off.” 

“What’s your problem?” He furrows his brow, “I didn’t do nothing but play around. You said you’re not ready--” 

“And you-- you kept going--” 

“I didn’t fuck ya,” he snarls and shakes his head, “not like I should.” 

“Sy,” you squeal, “please--” 

“Don’t you be goin’ on and such. I ain’t been bad to y--” 

“Get off!” You cry out loud and push against his chest, wriggling madly, “Get--” 

“Argh!” He shoves off of you, plummeting over the edge as he lands on the floor.  

You sit up, heart racing, as he reaches back to cradle his rear. Aika snaps at him and her lips curl as she snarls. He fends her off with his forearm firmly against her neck as he holds her at bay. Her teeth are long and menacing, only a few inches from his face. 

“Aika, heel,” he commands, “what’re ya doin’? Aika.”  

He issues an order in a language you don’t recognise. The dog lets up, sitting as she shuts her maw, though the low noise continues in her chest. You stare down at him as he hangs his head and exhales. 

“The two of ya,” he turns himself over to his knees and stands, “actin’ up.” 

“Sy, I was scared. You hurt me--” 

“I didn’t,” he insists, “I was nice.” 

“I told you no--” 

“It ain’t like that,” he turns to you, stepping closer, and you push yourself against the couch. He bends and points a finger at you as you wilt away from him. He looks different. He looks... distant. “I’m your captain. You listen when I give you an order.” 

“Sy?” 

“Captain Syverson,” he barks in your face. 

You whimper and brace the couch as you try to sink further into it, “I... Captain?” 

He glares you down, his pupils dilated and desolate, the blue irises barely rimming the darkness. You gulp. He is absolutely terrifying. That vein in his forehead bulges and his jaw ticks. You blink as your lip quivers. 

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you squeak out. 

His brows arch and he searches your face. He twitches suddenly and stands straight, hands to his hips as he lets his chest deflate. He shakes his head and grumbles. 

“What’d ya call me?” He sniffs and rubs his nose. 

“Captain--” 

“Sweetie,” he scoffs, “now why you callin’ me that?” 

You frown. What? But he... 

“God, it’s hot in here,” he mutters as he turns and wipes the sweat from his brow.  

With his back to you, he pauses and looks down. His hand drops to his shorts and he grunts. Aika sits with straight posture as she watches him with intent eyes. Her obedience is too deeply-wrought to be overridden. You can’t blame her. You won’t dare defy this man again, not after that. 

“You hot, sweetie?” 

You watch his muscled back. The thick cording of his broad figure is another reminder of his power over you. Your chest knots and you feel again as if he is on top of you, suffocating you. 

“A little,” you answer, making yourself talk before he can think too long. 

“Mm,” he turns and pushes his hands over his buzz cut, “I need a cold shower.” 

“Okay,” you mutter, “um... I can... I can get you some water or... there’s popsicles.” 

“Heh,” he snorts and turns to face you, “you’re so sweet.” He smiles and nears you. You fight not to cower as you stare up at him, “how’d I get so lucky, baby?” 

“I...” you blink and shake your head helplessly, “I don’t know.” 

“You just sit pretty,” he winks and bends, reaching down to fix your skirt, pulling it down your thigh and letting his fingertips brush against you. “Just like you are.” 

He backs away and you stare after him. Aika lowers herself down to lay on her stomach, her head between her paws. You glance down at her as her owner’s shadow disappears behind you. Her dark eyes follow him. Even she looks scared. 

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #follow you anywhere #sand castle

[pinkflower2003]

hey!!! could you write something with danny ric? maybe a sweet morning sex with lots of praise? 😭 i've been dreaming w this!

Morning Glow - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

a/n: thank you so much for your request my lovely!🍓 I tried with this one but i’m not too sure on the ending but i had no idea how to end it!

Danny Ric is the loml <<33

Send in your submissions<3

This is 18+ - Minors DNI

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the bedroom. Birds outside began their morning serenade, creating a symphony of nature that blended seamlessly with the tranquility of the room. You stirred slightly, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on your face and the comforting presence beside you.

Daniel's arm was draped protectively over your waist, his breath soft and steady against your neck. You turned your head slightly to look at him, his features relaxed and serene in sleep. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and you couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he looked.

Carefully, you shifted to face him, tracing your fingers lightly over his jawline. Daniel's eyes fluttered open, and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you. "Good morning, darling," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied softly, leaning in to brush a gentle kiss against his lips. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head as he pulled you closer. The kiss was slow and tender, a sweet promise of the love you shared.

When you finally pulled back, Daniel's eyes were dark with desire, a smirk playing on his lips. "You look so beautiful in the morning," he whispered, his fingers trailing down your arm, sending shivers through your body. "Absolutely breathtaking."

You blushed at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "You're just saying that," you replied giggling, but Daniel shook his head, his expression serious.

"I mean it, Y/N. You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Every single day, I wake up and I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life." His voice was filled with sincerity, and you felt your heart swell with love for the man beside you.

Daniel's hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. "I love you so much," he said softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I love you too, Daniel," you whispered, leaning into his touch. The moment was intimate and perfect, a reminder of the deep bond you shared.

Daniel's lips found yours again, more insistent this time, and you responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed yourself closer to him. His body was warm against yours, his touch igniting a fire within you that only he could quench.

He rolled over, positioning himself above you, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. "You are so incredible, Y/N," he murmured, his hands caressing your sides, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "I can't wait to get inside you, baby."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the desire in his eyes making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. "Please, Daniel," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Daniel's lips moved to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your sensitive skin, drawing soft moans from your lips. His hands continued to explore your body, every touch filled with reverence and adoration. "You deserve everything, my love," he murmured against your skin. "Every touch, every kiss...every orgasm I give you."

You arched into his touch, your body responding to him in ways that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. Daniel's kisses trailed down your collarbone, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin. His touch was gentle, yet filled with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

When his hands moved to remove your shirt, you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head and toss it aside. His eyes roamed over your exposed skin, and the hunger in his gaze made you feel both powerful and vulnerable.

"You're perfect," Daniel breathed, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs pinching your sensitive nipples. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching as he continued to tease you. "So perfect for me."

His lips found yours again, more demanding this time, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles flex under your touch. Daniel's kisses grew more urgent, his need for you evident in every movement.

He shifted, his hands moving to remove your remaining clothing, and you helped him, eager to feel his skin against yours. Daniel's hands went lower, giving you a spank, rubbing over the curve of your backside. "You are such a good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "My good girl."

You felt a blush spread across your cheeks at his words, but the heat in his gaze made you feel incredibly desired. Daniel leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands explored your body, memorizing every curve, every sensitive spot that made you gasp and moan his name.

"Daniel, please," you begged, your voice shaky with need. "I need you."

He smiled against your lips, his fingers brushing over your cheek. "I need you too, baby. So much." He positioned himself between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly entered you, the sensation making you both gasp.

The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, a perfect fit that made you feel complete. Daniel moved slowly at first, his thrusts gentle and measured, drawing out the pleasure with each movement. "You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so perfect for me."

You moaned at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders as you moved with him, matching his rhythm. "Daniel," you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Harder."

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased the pleasure building within him. "Fuck, Y/N" he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "My world, my everything"

The intensity of his gaze, the sincerity in his words, sent you spiraling towards the edge. "Daniel, I'm so close," you moaned, your nails digging into his skin.

"I've got you, love," he murmured, his movements growing more frenzied. "Come for me, Y/N. Be my good girl."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm. Daniel followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he came.

Coming down from his climax, Daniel held you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your head as you clung onto him. "I love you, my darling." He whispered, "my good girl."

I'm so sorry if that was a terrible ending, writing an ending to smut is hard yall

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smut #imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #smut #danny ric

[joviemotional]

general/joost klein x reader hc's

˗ˏˋજ⁀➴ _ _ _ _ _ _ . . .

i firmly belive joost is legally blind or at least on a downhill slope towards becoming such. he keeps a collection of all the glasses he's had over the years and you can see them getting thicker and thicker. he refuses to wear them if they mess with his style though + his contact lens game is intense.

a man of a million nicknames. he likes to see how far he can stretch your name before you stop answering to it. for receiving, i like the idea of you calling him 'jo' pronounced 'y-oh'. though, he goes weak at the knees anytime you say his name so use with caution.

when he gets bored he'll draw his tattoos on you with washable marker. he loves seeing your matching knuckle tatts. especially if you don't plan on any tattoos, it's his own little imprint on you.

the absolute most doting boyfriend you could ever ask for. he treats you like his life mission is to take care of you. if you're ever unsure of what you want or overwhelmed with options, you can trust him to make the best decisions for you.

he loves taking you dancing. whether its a massive rave or an intimate party with friends, he loves to move his body with yours. as long as theirs good music and you're happy, he could die and be fulfilled.

always has to have a hand on you. he loves having his hands in your hair to soothe a headache or slung across your shoulder to keep you close. the reverse is true. placing your hand in his for a moment of comfort or your arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug.

uses you as his own personal jewellery box. whenever he's around you and needs to wash his hands, he'll slide his rings onto your fingers. necklace making his throat go green? now its your problem.

as much as this man enjoys a good party after a show, he has a strict bedtime when you're not in attendance. he's made it a part of his post-performance rituals at this point. he finishes his set, drinks a bottle of water and calls to let you know he's on his way home. please pick up quickly or he will cause several car accidents to get home to you as soon as he can.

#joost klein x reader

[januaryembrs]

YOU'RE ALL I EVER WANTED | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [bonus chapter]

Description: The one where you realise you like Spencer.

Length: 6.2k

Warnings: mention of when Penelope got shot, but other than that not much. Mentions of sex + body count though there is NO judgement OR SHAMING. Bugsy could be Bisexual/attracted to women if you choose to read it that way, but you don't have to!

authors note: this little bonus chapter is set the week before Emily 'dies' so right before the final second of Chapter Two. Or you can just read this if you'd like to see two morons dancing around their love for one another. Since I’m uploading today, I realised you needed to read part of this for the next big chapter so that is going to take an extra day or so but it is coming! I hope this satiates the bugspence cravings!!

‘You’re the one, you’re all I ever wanted,

I think I’ll regret this,’

It was warm considering it was one of the last days of Winter, one of the warmest Virginia had in years.

Caseload had been ramped up with the amount of children out on the streets with their friends where any nefarious hands could simply snatch them, or young adults got drunk, or worse, in preparation for Spring Break, their inhibitions lowered to zero making them prime prey. And yet, on a random Saturday at the end of February, the sun peeked out from the dishwater grey clouds, the wind died down, and their phones stayed quiet with the promise of a real day off. 

And how better to spend a day away from their office than to meet their co-workers in the park for a game of soccer. 

“Morgan, quit marking me,” Bugsy yelled, dribbling the ball down the small field they’d commandeered as a pitch, four water bottles stood upright on either end as goal points. But Derek’s laugh was menacing, and she heard his footsteps pounding behind her, advancing on her as if they were kids in a playground, and before long he had swooped in front of her, despite her hand waving out in his direction to shove him away.

Emily was about to call her out for contact, not that she expected her little sister to give a shit, but Derek was too fast for even her where she sat on the side lines with Penelope. The ball went careering away from her, Morgan’s quick feet keeping it under much better control than she’d been able to, even with her hot on his heels, and before long he was shooting to where Aaron stood as goalie, just about rolling it past Hotch’s muscled legs into their goal. 

Derek whooped, Will jogged over from the other end of the pitch to fist bump his team mate as the younger woman huffed, her college jumper and shorts clinging to her sweaty body. 

“Sucks to suck, baby Prentiss,” Morgan jeered, shoving her shoulder lightheartedly when she glared at him, “Guess you owe me that drink, which I will be redeeming at the next convenience-” 

“It’s easy to win when you’re two hundred pounds of muscle and your opponent is a girl who hasn’t done sport since high school,” She snapped, her expression grumpy as she fingered the hem of her fleecy top. Derek chuckled, Will returning to sit with JJ as Henry climbed over her legs wanting to play with her long strands of honey blonde hair. He shoulder bumped the girl, hoping to perk up her mood, but she shoved him back as hard as she could, not that it did much since she’d said herself she was sort of out of shape compared to his rock hard abs. 

“Oh, come on now, Bug, don’t be like that,” He said, unphased when she damn near threw her whole body against his, trying to even knock him in the slightest off his feet, her face screwed up in annoyance. “Bugsy.” Derek tried again, only for her to ignore him and try even harder. He didn’t so much as flinch, “Bugsy, you’re being unreasonable,”

She huffed, drawing away from him and glancing at him with a scathing glare. “Okay, terminator, you won this time but I swear one day I’m going to make you pay for taking advantage of such a fragile little woman like me,” 

Emily scoffed, handing her sister a water bottle, “Didn’t you take down an unsub alone yesterday? I mean you didn’t even have cuffs until Spencer showed up-”

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Bugsy snarled, downing a gulp of water and walking back over to where Spencer and JJ were relaxing on a picnic blanket, the former laying on his back with a book spread open using only one of his spindle-like hands. 

“Good game?” He mused, trying to hide his smirk when she groaned in response, throwing herself down on the grass beside him. She wrestled her sweater over her head which left her in a band tee, her chest still rising with panting breaths as she lay down to his right, glaring at the clear sky. 

“Remind me to never play him in sport ever again. The man is a Spartan Warrior,” She huffed, barely glimpsing to where JJ chuckled at her defeated expression. 

“Did you know that the Spartans were actually banned from the Olympics for some time for violating the peace treaty between Sparta and Athens? But one of their athletes entered a chariot race pretending to represent Thebes, a city above Athens in Boeotia, and only when he won did he announce his true identity,” Spencer asked, his nose still buried in his book like he was reciting the very same information off the page. Bugsy’s lips quirked in interest. 

“That’s pretty cool,” She murmured, head flicking over to him where he glanced back at her, finally ripping his attention away from his novel. She blinked at him, his ‘boy band’ hair as so affectionately named by their unit chief, swooping over his forehead with a few soft, chocolate curls that she moved to fix almost immediately. 

She missed the way his eyes rounded in puppy love as she did so, a camouflaged smile twitching at his lips, an onset reaction of the butterflies that swarmed his chest. 

“I like your hair like this,” She said, even though she’d told him a dozen times already his new hair was dashing, as she’d put it, “It makes your eyes look really pretty,” 

He cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up because he couldn’t handle his reactions when she was so forward, “Really? I always thought they were the colour of dirt,” 

Her mouth dropped open, and she shuffled up onto her elbows so they were similar heights, “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now,” 

“Wow, the government name. I must be in trouble,” He mused, gaze falling to the grass beneath them, dropping his book into his lap even though he felt her annoyance poking holes in his skull.

“They are not the colour of dirt, I’ve never heard something so ridiculous,” She scoffed, nudging him with the back of her hand in a soft chide and he snickered, looking back up to where she was staring him straight in the muddy hues of his very plain hazel eyes. “They’re like, they’re like-” She tried to come up with an answer, squinting in the soft sunlight that turned the brown shades into liquid honey running off a spoon, her face  leaning towards his to catch a closer look at the exact pigment of them, “They’re like looking up at a forest on a Summer’s morning, you know? Like when you can see every single one of the leaves because of the light,” 

He nodded wordlessly, because no one had ever said something quite so poetic about any part of him before. He fought the urge to look away, wasn’t sure he could even if he tried because for a second they were both in a trance, dissecting the other’s gaze like they were imprinting their colour palettes to memory. 

“Buggy!” Her head whipped away from him as the blonde headed child came running over to her as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him. He launched himself at her stomach, and her hands quickly caught him before he could wind her, his cheeks rosy behind his bumble bee pacifier. She giggled as he slid down her side, his knees staining with grass as he reached muddy hands out for her face. 

“Woah, not so fast mister. Who knows where these grubby little paws have been,” She teased, and he laughed behind the plastic sucker, his bluebell eyes a near match of JJ’s blinking over at her. 

Spencer watched her and his godson with besotted eyes, imagining for a split second what she might be like as a mother, if she ever chose to be. He knew she would be soft and yet not lose one drop of the Bugsy playfulness he cherished, just instead parting everything that made her extraordinary onto a mini her. 

He saw it, like a flicker of a dream, like deja vu, a girl with her hair, her skin, her smile; the one that was impish and guilty like she had a secret, giggling behind a ladybug dummy the way Henry was doing when she forced his dirty hands together to clap; “Clap your hands if you smell like fairy farts- Henry!” 

The child laughed harder, so hard his pacifier dropped out his mouth with a little dribble, his milk teeth pearly with and tiny in the sun. His chest seized with giggles, his face turning pink as he panted to catch his breath, “You’re so silly, Buggy,”  

JJ swooped in to grab his dummy, giving his hands a quick once over with a baby wipe and packing the sucker back into his bag. Henry’s gaze quickly slid up his mother’s arm to where she lingered over his pack, and he was eager to make himself comfortable leaning against Bugsy’s stomach, legs stretching out onto the blankets, his shoes brushing against Spencer’s trouser leg. 

“Juice, mama!” He shouted, his little voice sweet knowing just how to wrap everyone around his pinky finger, “Juice and Bi’kits!”

“What do we say, Henry?” Will reminded gently, holding the Ben 10 satchel open while his partner rooted around the bottom of it with a loving smile. 

“Please, juice and bi’kits,” The boy replied politely, his feet knocking together out of excitement when JJ produced two red pouches and animal shaped cookies. Stepping over where Spence lay sprawled out, watching Bugsy idly stroking over the back of his godson’s white blonde curls, JJ handed the two of them a drink and snack each, Bugsy’s eyes flying up to the woman in interest. 

“For me?” She asked dumbly, wondering if she was to give the second helping to the boy once he’d finished his first or if it really was hers.

JJ shrugged, moving back over to sit beside Will where he wrapped a lazy arm around her waist, squeezing her gently, “I always pack extra for the other kids,” 

Bug’s face flattened into something unamused as Henry handed Spencer his juice pouch for him to push the straw in, “I’m twenty six, I’m not a kid,” She grouched, ripping open the packet of biscuits and shoving a lion in her mouth, “God, whoever invented these animal shaped pals is genius. Like, why does everything taste so much better when it looks like a monkey smiling up at me?” 

The three of them chuckled at her, Emily and Penelope starting up a new game of soccer with Hotch and Derek, David reffing from the sideline. Penelope was ofcourse with Morgan, looking a little pale where she stood in goal, as Emily ran at her in full force with the ball skipping between her feet.

Spence handed the drink back to the boy, picking his book back up as the two of them crunched on their goodies happily. 

“Story time, Uncle Spencer,” Henry demanded, pointing to the copy of War and Peace in between bites of a zebra cookie. 

And instead of telling his godson that he would almost certainly hate the complex, adult writing of Leo Tolstoy, Spencer smiled down at him, feeling Bugsy’s eyes roving over his face.

“Yeah, storytime, Uncle Spencer,” She jeered, her elbow getting dirty where it dug into the grass as she rolled onto her side to watch him properly, “Never too early to teach the kids about French invasions,” 

Flicking her a smirk, he cleared his throat theatrically, and pretended to read from his book, “Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White,” 

“That’s a real magic book you got there, Spence,” The woman snickered, and he smiled into the pages, not daring himself to look at the devilish look she had on her face. 

“Chapter One; Before Breakfast,” Spencer ‘read’ clearly, his memory still clear as a bell when his mother had read it to him when he was five, “‘Where’s papa going with that axe?’ said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast,” 

Bugsy felt Henry’s head slump against her hip, the boy slurping on his juice pouch happily as she punctured a hole in her own carton to take a sip, the two of them listening intently to Spencer recounting the children’s book to a scary degree of accuracy. 

His slender arms looked good with his sleeves rolled to his elbow, she thought offhandedly, his right elbow taking the brunt of his weight as he leaned on it, the other flicking through the Tolstoy novel as if it were the real thing, his long fingers splayed out on the back of the book to keep it open. His eyes kept darting up over the top of the page to see if they were both still listening, which they were, though Bugsy suspected Henry was starting to get tired as his head felt heavy against her skin. 

Propping her head on her hand, her eyes scanned over the profile of his face. She’d always known he was attractive, ever since she opened her dorm room door at John Hopkins and saw him and Morgan waiting for her. Her stomach twisted thinking about how long ago that seemed, that she couldn’t remember quite what her world had centred around when it had just been her at college; her mother and father were distant as ever, her sister was a stranger that had all but raised her, boys were just a passing face if she ever let them through her door. She’d had her books and maybe two friends, acquaintances would probably be the better term, and her coffee. And that seemed to have been enough, or at least it was enough that she couldn’t outright complain about how lonely she felt.  

And then she met Spencer. And that feeling had disapparated entirely.

Her heart swelled when she looked at him, recounting the beginning of chapter two by now, his forest hues glancing up at Henry’s sleepy, round eyes that watched him in interest. She thought for a moment that whoever his kid was going to be was going to be the luckiest boy in the world. She let herself imagine a boy Henry’s age already devouring books twice his reading age, one with wild, almond curls he’d let grow around his neck like JJ did with Henry’s. She imagined how he would sit him on his lap and let him read the books for himself, so that if he got stuck his dad would be right there to help him behind a proud smile. Spencer; a father. She realised how out of field the thought was before she shook it out of her head, though it had planted itself right in her hypothalamus the second she’d seen the vision of it. 

A small smile twitched at her lips, a warmth in the pit of her stomach flickering as she sipped the juice, giggling when Spencer changed his tone slightly so Henry knew someone new was speaking, seemingly enjoying the book almost as much as his audience was. His eyes snapped to her when he heard her, a devious little smile creeping up his lips like they shared the same thought. She wished she could do this every day, lay on picnic blankets and listen to him read, his voice was heavenly, and she thought she might never get tired of hearing him tell her things. 

Every part of her was consumed when she thought of him like this. It had happened once or twice, like when she’d driven him home from the doctors after they’d cleared his MRI’s, when she’d held his head in her lap on his couch and stroked his scalp, a cold compress over his eyes because his head writhed with a pain he couldn’t squash out. When she’d heard his soft snores as he finally dropped off to sleep and she allowed herself to look at his resting face, perhaps even more angelic than usual, a small indent right between his brows where his expression had been scrunched in discomfort for weeks, one she smoothed over with the soft pad of her thumb. She’d felt something then, like her whole body was full to the brim of him, her chest spasming with a feeling like she was coming down with a cold but one that made her feel good, but she’d brushed it off as seeing him vulnerable and soft compared to the quick as a whip FBI agent she was used to these days. She’d do just about anything for him, anything to make him feel better, anything to just make him happy.

Or when they’d eat breakfast together at his desk, her chair rolled up beside his as they sat together, taking it in turns to do crossword puzzles together because they realised they got competitive when they were allowed to answer all of them at the same time, and Bugsy did not like losing. There had been one morning when they’d descended into madness because they were both trying to write the answers as fast as possible, their hands smashing together over the boxes, her hand shoving his lithe body away as he had called her a cheater through red cheeked laughter. Rossi had confiscated the paper when things had gotten too physical and she’d pulled the lever beneath his chair, lowering his seat quick enough he nearly slipped right out. His coffee spilled all over his desk as his arm flew out to grab his desk, and the sight alone made her laugh so hard she almost peed. He’d pretended to be annoyed at her for all of two minutes as they cleaned up the mess together, but he too had found himself laughing hard enough he was almost in tears because she could barely get two words out without creasing over and holding her stomach in aching barks of noise, the two of them leaning against one another for support. She thought then, if she had breakfast with him every day, whether it be with quizzes or coffee or even a plain bowl of oatmeal, she’d wake up every day happy. 

And she thought it then, her heart swelling fat enough to burst as he looked up at her over the top of the leather binding again. Even in the split second he did so her skin had turned to gooseflesh, like he’d grabbed her at her soul and squeezed her whole being affectionately. And it was like she remembered every time he’d made her feel like that, times she thought of it as the fact a girl who received little to no attention growing up was of course going to revel under the gaze of an attractive man with a heart sweeter than cotton candy, it was just psychology. One big Freudian-slip of nonsense. At least that was what she shoved it off as. 

But looking at him, his hands big enough to grab her face whole, his body long and lithe as he spread out on the blanket, his hair falling so delicately, his tone soft and pandering to the little boy who was dropping off to sleep against her stomach. His whole essence was so Spencer it made her feel at home, like this was what she was created to do, feeling so fulfilled sat with him sipping on a juice pouch as he read to her she could die tomorrow and feel accomplished for only twenty six years. 

She knew in her gut that wasn’t what friends felt for each other; the thought creeping up her spine and over her shoulder like a virus that seized her brain as its own, her expression unwavering as she watched him with adoring eyes. 

She knew it was wrong, but with him she felt worth something. She felt complete. Like she had everything she ever needed, everything she’d ever wanted on the nights loneliness had snuck in and she’d felt like no one would ever understand how the muddied water of her mind worked. 

But he did. He always had. 

And it was like she heard a screech in a track record as it came to a stop, her head working overtime with the thought of it. 

She bit her lip in guilt, as he continued reading, hoping she wouldn’t ever ruin whatever it was that she’d felt, because she might not ever be able to forgive herself if she did. 

–

“It’s over one and below a hundred, and that’s all you’re getting,” Bugsy said with a teasing smile, her fingers resting on the rim of a very sweet Cosmo, as Penelope and Derek sat opposite them, Spencer to her right with a beer on one of the few times she’d ever seen him drink. But it had been a good day, and what would be the harm in topping off the day with a cold beverage, “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like they meant much,” 

“We know it doesn’t matter, baby Prentiss, we’re just being nosey,” Derek chimed, his fingers wrapped around his own bottle of beer, courtesy of Bugsy which she had paid for with a grumble, a tipsy glint in his dark eyes. 

It was just the four of them this evening. Will and JJ had taken a sleeping Henry home so they could spend some rare time together seeing as their son was entirely knocked out. Hotch had taken Emily home after David had given her a red card for trying to tackle both Aaron and Derek multiple times during their game, because apparently competitiveness ran in the family. He had tried to gently remind her Aaron was also on her team, but had received a glare that would make any agent cower, and Hotch had suggested maybe it would be best if they got her home rather than fill her with alcohol. 

Rossi had excused himself home after hearing the colourful things the oldest Prentiss woman called him in Italian, likely contemplating if she meant any of the threats she was making. 

“Any guy would be lucky to make it to your magic number, honey bee,” Penelope added, her pastel painted lipstick making a cute rim on the straw to her own Margarita, “Or girl! Any girl would be too,”

Bugsy shied away at that, blanking for perhaps the first time because the whole topic of her romantic endeavours was suddenly embarrassing when Spencer was sat right beside her. She had spoken to them before about her college days, and had never once made an effort to hide the fact she knew she had a charm about her that meant she usually could take someone home if she wanted them. 

So why was it suddenly so difficult to admit in front of Spencer? She knew why, she knew why every single one of them suddenly felt miniscule in the grand scheme of things because they hadn’t meant much to her, not when he was sitting boring holes into the side of her head with an unusually tight expression. 

“What does it matter if there were girls, none of them really meant much,” She brushed them off, her face heating up when she finally looked at Spencer, his long fingers picking at the label on his beer with a tight lipped smile.

“We’re just teasing, Bug, there’s nothing wrong with any number you could give us. Besides, I guarantee mine is higher than yours,” Derek reassured, squeezing her wrist gently, his eyes sliding to where Spencer seemed to be trying to avoid all eye contact like he wanted the seat to swallow him whole, “Same with you, Kid, there’s no judgement at this table, we’re all human,” 

“I bet you were a real ladies man by that third doctorate,” Bugsy teased, nudging his shoulder with her own because she hated when he went quiet. 

He looked at her like he was expecting her to be cruel, except she didn’t look it, not one bit, instead she seemed a little skittish, no doubt from having the spotlight on her. “What makes you say that?” 

She bristled, “I mean, come on, Spence, you’re very good looking, you’re the smartest person I know, you’re funny and there’s like not a single bad bone in your entire body,” She said, becoming increasingly aware of the weight of her words the more she spoke. But it was like the cocktail had loosened her lips, had made it seem entirely normal to essentially tell him how lucky a girl would be to date him, how she had thought about all the reasons she would find him a worthy sexual partner. She watched him blush, granting her a flustered smile, and she looked to Penelope desperately for help, “Pen, would you tell him?”

“She has a point, Reid. You are the full package,” Penelope conceded, her smile illuminating the whole bar as she reached over to hold both their hands in hers, “It’s a shame you’re both strongly planted in the friend zone otherwise the four of us could have really been something beautiful,” 

They all chuckled, Bugsy shaking her head and leaning against Spencer’s side when he seemed to ease up, just to remind him she had meant no harm by what she said. In fact, she’d meant entirely the opposite.  

She felt his hand lean under the table to squeeze her knee, because he knew what she was thinking, and she felt herself relax at the feel of his touch. 

“Alright, here’s a question; winner gets a free shot on the next round. What was your worst date?” Morgan poked, noticing how the two youngest agents seemed to scooch towards one another almost as if they hadn’t realised, as if they were working off their own orbit, until they were pressed right up against one another, their elbows brushing against one another, “Doesn’t have to be sexual, could just be bad table manners,” 

“I haven’t really been on a date before,” Spencer tried to weasel his way out of the question, Bugsy’s head whipping to him in surprise, “There was that one time I met that girl Austin for coffee, but that was pretty great,”

She bit her cheek in annoyance. She’d forgotten about Austin, the bartender that she’d told Spencer to go after, because she was so sure that a good looking doctor like him deserved someone kind and attractive like Austin had been. She remembered how she’d seen her ocean blue eyes roving over her friend, how at the time it hadn’t meant much to her, because she couldn’t really blame her for thinking he was hot, how now it stirred something in her tummy that she feared felt like jealousy. 

She dared herself to stop the bombarding thoughts of what ‘pretty great’ entailed exactly, and busied her face by looking to Morgan for his turn. 

“My man,” Derek said with a wicked grin on his face, watching Spencer cower away from the attention though there was something guiltily proud in the smirk that grew on his face that said Spencer was somewhat pleased with his answer. In the scheme of things, he’d gotten lucky, pun intended. The only woman to ever say yes to a date with him had been sweet, even if he’d quickly made it clear he wasn’t looking for anything more with her, and even then she’d been understanding. 

“Your turn, Morgan,” Bugsy reminded, trying to be as cool as possible despite the fact her stomach felt flipped upside down at the sound of a woman she hadn’t thought about in two whole years. She didn’t know what had gotten her so territorial in a matter of seconds, but she hated every moment of it. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know ladies, that someone has in fact put Derek Morgan in his place before,” Derek said, with a clap of his hands, and Bugsy and Penelope shared an amused eye roll. 

“Who knows how big your ego might be if this goddess among women hadn’t acted when she did,” Bugsy drawled, Penelope giggling into her lime wedge as Derek laid a hand on his chest in faux hurt. 

“I’m telling you, I’m a changed man. I tasted my own medicine, Sugar, and it was bitter,” He said melodramatically, and even Spencer shook his head with a laugh, because Derek was a diva when he’d had a few to drink. “We go out to a lovely restaurant, I pay ofcourse, being the gentleman I am, and then we decide to go for some drinks after to round the evening off,”

“Any girl's dream come true,” Penelope jumped in, giggling when Derek wrapped an arm around her shoulder, like they were on a date themselves. 

“That was exactly my thoughts, babygirl.” Derek flirted, taking a swig of his beer, “Anyway, I maybe have a little too much of the good stuff, nothing particularly worrying. We’re laughing, we’re vibing, and then we go back to my place,” 

“Here we go, the real good stuff,” Bugsy chimed in, nudging Spencer with her elbow as the two of them snickered like tweedle dum and tweedle dee. “Fifty Shades of Morgan,”

“Pipe down, lover girl,”  Derek barked through laughter, Penelope barely making it through a sip of her own drink without smiling, “So as I was saying, I’m feeling a little worse for wear, she’s a little drunk too, so we move past it, and then we get to my room,”

“Bow chick a wow wow,” Bugsy sang teasingly, to which Spencer chuckled and taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Well, you would think, honey bee, since I am known to the women for my experiences in bed, some may call electric,” Derek slurred, holding her hand gently over the table to which she laughed even harder. 

“Huh, I must have missed that email,” She teased back, taking a long final sip of the dregs of her drink. 

“You wound me,” He replied, shaking his head, and turning to look at Penelope seriously, like he was sat in a confession booth, “So anyway, we’re in my room, about to get jiggy with it, only when I take my boxers off I find my soldier is sort of-” He paused, swallowing and looking at Spencer’s red face where he was trying desperately not to break, “You know. Unable to stand to attention,” 

Bugsy spat her drink across the table, the action alone making Penelope laugh so hard tears sprang to her eyes, the younger girl coughing as she choked on her drink, and Spencer patted her on the back until she reclaimed some composure. 

“Oh, god,” She gasped, her hand thumping her chest as she tried desperately to get a hold of herself in between the loud cries of glee and winding herself, “Derek-”

“Hey, laugh it up, Bug, it worked out alright in the end. Our second date really was electric,” He replied with a smug smile, as the girl finally caught a breath, her lash line watering with tears as she grabbed for some napkins on the table to clear up her mess. 

“If you say so,” She said, her voice croaking as Spencer offered her a sip of his drink to wash her throat out. She took a small mouthful of beer, handing the bottle back to him with a grateful smile, and she tried no to think about the fact that germ wise, they had essentially just kissed. 

“Your turn,” Spencer said, something amused in his eyes as she looked at him somewhat betrayed, “What’s been your worst date?” 

She sighed, wiping beneath her eyes with her sleeve, “If you must know, and because I really do want that shot,”  She started, clearing her throat one final time, “I was seeing this guy in New York over Spring break, Sean something,” 

“Sean something?” Derek asked, “You didn’t know his last name?” 

She shrugged, fighting the urge to crawl into a small ball of embarrassment because surely what Morgan said had set the bar for judgement high, “We didn’t exactly do much talking when we saw each other,” 

Spencer hid his frustration in a fake smile, though one look at his furrowed brow would have given him away instantly. Luckily, they had their eyes on her long enough they didn’t catch a glimpse of his expression. It wasn’t that he would ever think less of her for being with someone else, who wouldn’t want her, but hearing about it made his inside boil with jealousy he didn’t even know he would have ever felt. 

“Anyway. I felt like a change of scenery and my mother was bothering me for a lunch date since she was in New York for the month, so I took him and two of his friends out to Italy for a long weekend,” She went on, ripping up a napkin for something to do while she spoke, and she felt Penelope staring at her agog. 

“You took a casual fling to Italy for a change of scenery?” The bubbly woman asked, her mouth dropped in shock, “Can I sleep with you?” 

Derek laughed, and Spencer went bright red when he jumped to ask the same question though he knew it was entirely coarse. Maybe it was the beer loosening his tongue, or maybe it was the fact he wondered what the two of them sitting in a sunny vineyard like a rich old couple would look like, he wasn’t sure. 

“Play your cards right, Princess,” Bugsy teased, clearing her throat to continue, “Anyway. We’re there for two days and the final evening Sean and I get into a bit of a disagreement over something dumb; I think him and his friends were being too loud and we were getting complaints. Anyway, we kiss and make up for the evening, we go out to a club. We go back to the hotel, get jiggy with it as you put it, and when I woke up the next day, the bastard had taken the bag with all our boarding passes and came back to America with his friends without even waking me up.”

Their mouths fell open, Spencer’s brows shooting into his hairline in worry, “That sounds awful, Bug,”

She shrugged again, messing with the pile of ripped up paper she’d created, “It’s nothing. I spoke the language so I got by okay, and luckily I kept all my cash in my purse so I hitched a ride to the airport and got on the next plane, except the only available one landed me in California so I had to wait for a transfer over to Baltimore. By the time I got back, his roommate said he was with some other girl,”

“What an asshole,” Derek said, shaking his head as he said so, but Bugsy raised her shoulders again. 

“I really know how to pick them,” She said, swirling her lime piece around the bottom of her glass, “Anyway, the hotel staff felt bad for me and gave me a free bottle of Pinot Noir on them so it didn’t work out all bad,” 

Sensing it was somewhat of a sticky subject, Penelope jumped in with her usual wit, “As much as I would love to give you the shot, buttercup, this gal took a bullet on her last bad date so I will be collecting that prize if it’s all the same to you,” She said, her bubbly attitude quickly throwing metaphorical glitter over the subject, collecting Bugsy's empty glass and her own together as her and Morgan moved to shuffle out of the table for another round. 

Bugsy’s eyes widened, “What?” She stopped, and she looked at Spencer to see if they were playing some sort of joke on her only to see him unsurprised, “What!?” 

“I’ll tell you about it some other time, sweet cheeks. Right now I have a tequila, salt and lime with my name written all over it,” Penelope chirped, waltzing up to the bar with her muscle two paces behind her as he drew out his wallet to put down for the next round of drinks. 

“Well, I suddenly feel like an asshole for complaining about being left in a nice hotel alone,” Bugsy said, her head resting on her hand as she looked over at Spencer who ran his finger over the emerald green bottle. 

He snorted, “Tell me about it, I said that my last date went wonderfully,” 

They met eyes in the dark lowlights of the bar and shared an amused grin, like they knew it was cynical for them to laugh except they really did feel like morons for complaining about how bad they had it when Penelope had all but joked about her situation. 

“I am sorry that happened to you, though,” Spencer said, his hand creeping over the leather seat to where hers sat on her thigh, “That must have been really scary. Why didn’t you call Emily?” 

Bugsy’s face tensed, “We weren’t really speaking then, and I knew if I told her or my mother I’d get the same lecture about being irresponsible and careless. I think I thought I’d rather do it alone,” 

Spencer pouted, braving enough to move his hand up to take hers in his own. Maybe it was the second bottle of low percent beer, or maybe it was because she’d flickered with something genuinely saddened when she’d said it, and Spencer thought that in every  instance of her story she’d had little to no one to turn to for help.

She had been alone, and the thought of it crushed him. 

He grabbed her hand, her head snapping to him and praying she didn’t find pity there because she hated that. Except she just saw him, those mossy eyes looking rounder and more lovely than ever when she regarded him. 

“You don’t have to feel alone ever again, you know that right?” He asked earnestly, giving her fingers a little squeeze, and she felt her tummy do that stupid turn all over again. It was like she had an upset stomach except that was a complete antonym of what it was, like her stomach was so unbelievably overjoyed that she could barely even hold it together without wanting to ask him what it was he had done to suddenly turn her into some sort of feral creature for every little movement he made. 

Except there wasn’t just one thing, it was everything about him. Everything. 

She smiled at him, more bashful than she had ever felt for him, and against her own instincts she slipped her fingers in between his own so they had their every digit laced together, and it was suddenly so much bigger than two friends chatting in a bar. 

She knew it then, felt it realer than ever, like a stop sign slapping her clean across the face and shattering every bone in her skull. 

She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 

-

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3

@rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover r @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @splatteredpurplepaint @pieceuvmind

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

[moeblob]

You know, sometimes you just play an otome and go "that's my son" and then he's the mom of the group. It just happens like that sometimes.

#charade maniacs #keito ebana #i just think hes neat! and im horrified for when i play his route and learn things glossed over in another route #but like also hey i love him sooooo much and i got really sad when i looked at a site for the rec walkthrough order #and then a brief overview of The Guys themselves and #the person writing it was like listen i love the artist of the game but why did they give him poop hair #and i just :c thats mean :c it could also just be chocolate ice cream :c why ya gotta be so mean #they literally gave a lower route rating BECAUSE they didnt like his hair #and i get it cause appearances do affect my opinions on the characters but not actually the route overall #so i uh so haha i uh jokingly put possible otome spam in my header info thing here #and i thought no way will i actually do that #then i remembered my mom son and was like oh damn gotta draw him... wait -

[polarades]

please tie your hair up

#I can post my stupid little sketches ok ok i can do it i can do it (hyping myself up) #but his hair he's got so much of it and its so. much... I love drawing hair #oc #art #original character #digital art #oc art #sketch #oc.kain #polar.art #gosh he's so pretty i hope he dies for his crimes #I should have used reference images methinks

[r0-boat]

*Free falls from the sky*

Hello there, I’m 🦩anon! I come from the land of being terrified to send asks but finally got the courage to when it comes to the hot demons from WHB

I absolutely loved your Mammon Headcanons (totally not because I go feral for him, and also loved the dark/more twisted ones)

Do you by chance have more? If not then that’s ok!

🦩

Let's get some very sweet headcannons I don't have a lot but I have a few of certain characters so here's a mess of them!

Wholesome what in hell is bad headcanons various demons

Gehanna eddition

Let's give some love to the nobles!

Belial

Your Belial's first love, You're the apple of his eye. He constantly daydreams about you. And he's always eager to go on cute dates with you.

Belial before he lost his voice was a very good singer now you can only hear little bits of it when he hums. Someone hadn't heard his voice in a long time so he's a little shy about his singing.

Belial is always staring, please don't mind him He just likes looking at you listening to your voice. You could talk for hours and he could listen. Only for him to respond 'I love you.'

Leraye

When he gives you gifts he always gives you stuffed animals.

Leraye will randomly text you just to remind you that you're beautiful and great and sexy and that he loves you. Sometimes you'll just send you texts or at a context photos throughout his day He just likes telling you about himself.

Leraye feeds stray cats every time You see him, He is surrounded by stray kitties purring and cuddling up to him as he's trying to feed them. He has the biggest smile on his face as he tries to give them all attention and food.

Paimon

Paimon always shares his food with you, It is His love language He doesn't let anyone else do it but you. Sometimes he'll order big sizes just so you can eat it together. Paimon will even feed you.

If you have feminine clothing paimon will ask to borrow it. If not Paimon will buy outfits to match with you. They even bought you two little keychains to match.

Paimon loves to do those couples challenges with you. every time they find a new one they get so happy and then text you sending you the link to it and asks if you want to do it with them the next time you come over.

Sitri

A very overworked demon as much as your heartbeat turns him on it also calms him down when he lays against your chest he starts falling asleep.

Sitri is very touch starved He loves when you calm your hands through his hair melting into your touch and when you pull away he whimpers asking why you stopped.

Yes he does get annoyed when Leraye is hogging your attention but to be honest he's kind of happy that Leraye And you get along so well he hopes he could take care of you and you can take care of him part of him kind of hope you will choose him. Leraye is it good demon.

Zagen

Zagen is a really good artist, when he's bored he doodles for fun and those doodles look like works of art. During a meeting Zagen and Belial started doodling on a piece of paper. Despite Belial's crappy drawings Zagen says they're absolutely amazing and Belial should draw more so now they draw together! Zagen Even teaches Belial some art techniques and he's getting better Zagen is so proud! Leraye and Zagen still go to the gym together.

Zagen even though his rank is lower he still feels like a big brother to all of the other devils. He's very stoic protective yet caring and sweet. Zagen is a gentle giant. He may look scary but he's actually pretty shy. One compliment and his face is turning red, trying to hide that blushing face.

Zagen always reminds you to eat, He wants you to be strong by eating healthy. He knows how to cook because he makes his own healthy meals. You will never go hungry when he's around and he is happy to cook for you.

Astaroth

Instead of texting which he does do sometimes, He sends letters to you. Some of them are rather... Spicy, but all of them are filled with poetic and lovely words that make your heart flutter. It feels as though you are in the middle ages getting a love letter from your beloved fiance. Every word drips with love and you could practically feel the emotion on the paper. He even puts a little wax stamp on it before sending it to you the letter isn't an envelope smelling of his cologne.

Astaroth imagine is himself as the main character and you as love interest when he reads romantic novels. You can't help but imagine the two of you in those lovely situations sometimes he even writes it himself.

When he does text you he pours his heart out in a longing text. Telling you how much he longs for you. How his heart aches when he's not near you. How he feels as though he has lost without your touch. He knows just what to make you swoon.

#whb #whb gehenna #wihib #wihib x reader #what in hell is bad #whb sfw #whb x reader #whb headcanons