#(some of the others' voices are clearer for me in my head)

[lis-likes-fics]

Your Delusion

Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.

You look so beautiful like this.

Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.

And you shall always be mine.

No matter what you may believe.

Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.

But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.

When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.

You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.

“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.

I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”

I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.

Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.

“How are you?” I wondered.

You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”

Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.

“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”

“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.

You tilted your head gently. “About?”

“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”

You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.

My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…

“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”

You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”

You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”

Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.

“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”

I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.

“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”

“No.”

The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.

I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.

“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”

My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.

“Why not?”

“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”

Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.

“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”

Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”

I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”

I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.

“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”

Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?

“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”

If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.

“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.

You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”

It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.

“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.

“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”

I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.

If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.

“As I said, I can protect you.”

“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”

You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…

“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.

Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”

I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.

But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.

But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.

You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.

And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.

Perhaps I could… but I shall not.

I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.

We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.

You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.

Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.

And every kingdom needs its heir.

I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.

Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.

I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.

And I shall give it.

I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.

Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.

Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.

I knew you loved me.

I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.

I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.

Oh, you are lovely.

My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.

You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.

Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.

I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.

Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.

As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.

Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.

It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.

I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.

And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.

The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.

Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.

I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.

Perfect.

I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.

Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.

“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”

I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.”

You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.

You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.

My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…

But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.

I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.

My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.

“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.

A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.

You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.

“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”

You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.

And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.

With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.

You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.

Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.

“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”

You mutter something of my name, and I smile.

“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”

You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.

“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.

I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.

Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.

Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.

“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.

My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.

As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.

My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.

A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.

Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.

And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”

“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”

“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”

Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.

Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”

I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”

My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.

My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”

“I love you, Morpheus.”

The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.

My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.

When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.

There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.

“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”

My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.

“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”

Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.

“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.

I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.

“I love you, too, my darling wife.”

Nothing can take that from us now.

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[sscamanderr]

Trust

Astarion x gn!reader. My spin on the first biting interaction at camp with our fav vampire. I’ve been having some Thoughts.

Warnings: mentions of blood, light sexual tension. written on my phone. not proof read lol

Teeth bared directly above your face, white and gleaming. Sharp. The sight had you scrambling backward, feet slipping on the bundle of blankets you slept with before your sleep-addled mind cleared and recognized the silver hair and ruby eyes.

“Shit,” whispered that purring voice.

“Astarion?” Your voice was thick with sleep still. Your mysterious companion held his hands up in an attempt to calm you as you matched his movements to stand.

His ethereal eyes remained warily on yours even as he bowed his head. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,”

You glance at your other sleeping companions; too tired or too far away in their tents to hear. Seems you were lucky that nightmares kept you just on the verge of consciousness. A vampire was in your camp after all. “What’s going on? Were you trying to hurt me-- hurt the others too?”

Campfire flame danced in Astarion’s wide eyes. He inched away from your suspicious look. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I just needed, well…blood.”

“I wondered how long you’d last,”

You had your doubts at first, but the little puzzle pieces kept clicking. The boar your party had found days earlier. The coolness of the brush of his hand despite the battles and time under the sun. That was before you caught yourself staring at him a little too long at the smooth angles of his face, and the silver curls that swept around his elven ears. You were sure he saw you glance at his lips more than a healthy amount. That healthy amount helped you catch a glimpse of two pointed canines.

“You…You know?” He inclined his head slightly, rooted in place. His accusing tone held an urgency for you to continue.

“That you’re a vampire? Yes,” you stated. His searching eyes had you wishing you would sink into the ground.

“How long have you known?” He tilted his head to the side; a curious trait you found endearing if you didn’t think he appeared to be sizing up his next meal. And you very well could have been just that.

“Over a fortnight. Astarion--”

“You didn’t tell the others?”

“No. Gale thinks you have an affinity for blood magic you won’t tell him about and Shadowheart just thinks you’re odd. That’s all I know,” Your shoulders relaxed just a hair when Astarion smirked. He met your eye again and it faded.

“You have been keeping a close eye on me. Is it distrust? Or perhaps something else,”

“Nothing of the sort,” you assured him, “The signs were there, and I put two and two together. You’re not subtle,”

Astarion let out a laugh, airy and flitty. “And what do you plan on doing with your excellent sleuthing skills?”

“Depends entirely on you. How long has it been since you killed someone?”

“I haven’t killed anyone! At least, not for food, since I’m assuming that’s what you mean,” You nodded. “I feed on animals. I know you know that much. Boars, deer, kobolds—whatever I can get,”

You felt his gaze linger on your racing pulse point. He was focused so intently on it your heart raced faster at the attention.

“It’s not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak,” his tongue absently wetted his front teeth. Your lips parted a bit in realization: your sleeping self would have been all too easy for him to get to.

“You wanted to feed on me,”

“I…Well, yes, if I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better,” Astarion straightened and moved closer. “Please,”

The timbre of his voice made your flesh crawl. Not unpleasantly so.

“Why didn’t you ask me instead of trying to sneak a bite in the dark?”

“At best, I thought you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He eyed you up again. “No, I needed you to trust me. You can trust me,”

“I already did trust you. I thought that was clear,” you told him. His eyes flashed with something like surprise.

“Almost too trusting,”

“The least I can do is give you the benefit of the doubt,” you tried a small smile, not enough to show teeth. “The least you can do is trust me too. What do you need?”

Red eyes held you in place. Moonlight illuminated Astarion’s silver curls as he moved closer, footsteps silent on the dirt. “Let’s try to trust each other a little further, hm? I only need a taste,” he hummed, “I swear,”

You pinched your lip between your teeth, refusing to shy away from his predatory lean toward you. This moment held possibly the longest conversation with him you’d had so far. Despite your first meeting— which included a dagger to your throat and your fist thrown at his face— his actions gave you no other reason to doubt him. You did not know the man at all besides the bits and pieces he’d let slip, only on purpose you were sure. He’d kept you all alive thus far. That was enough for you.

“I…How do you want me?”

Astarion smirked. “Presumptuous, darling,”

Your cheeks burned. “Not like that—You know what I mean, asshole,”

“I’m hurt!” He placed a hand over his undead heart and feigned offense. Still, he came face to face with you. You felt your breath pick up when delicate, cool fingers moved your hair from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. Already this was feeling a touch too intimate for your comfort.

“Should I sit?”

“You should,” his words brushed against your skin; gentle, cool as the breeze. You leaned away from his touch, avoiding his eye as you sat in front of him on your bedroll. A log in the fire snapped, making you jump. “You seem nervous, darling,”

“Can’t help it. You want to take a chunk out of me,”

Another airy laugh left the man as he kneeled to your level. “That all?” he tilted his head again to make sure you met his gaze. You broke the charged contact to roll your eyes, allowing him that small win. “I’m no animal. Lie back,”

You tensed as he urged you onto your elbows. Fuck, this was like nothing you’d done before. Astarion was nearly draped over your body as he followed your own movements. His arm planted itself on the ground beside your hip and he began to bow his head toward you. “Wait, wait,” you gasped.

“What’s wrong?” There was no impatience present in his tone. Thankfully. Still, deep-set hunger swam in his ruby irises. Your cheeks flushed deeper at his closeness.

“How badly does it hurt?”

His expression hardened. He studied a spot on your neck, seeming a mile away in his own thoughts. It was emotion deeper than he’d previously allowed you to see.

“I’ll be much gentler than to you than the vampire that did this to me,”

Your curiosity was brimming when you looked at the symmetrical scars on his neck but you did not want to make him uncomfortable, so you remained quiet, and sent him a nod. Your exhale disturbed a few strands of his hair as he closed the distance between you completely.

Astarion’s nose and lips briefly skimmed the artery in your neck and you shivered at the feeling. Little warning alluded to his teeth finding purchase in your skin.

You let out a yelp of surprise, one hand digging into the dirt at your sides and the other flying to grip the front of the vampire’s shirt. Your breath did not come easily; the icy pain was almost too much. You felt your knees curl up as if your body was trying to fold into itself. The reflex nudged him closer.

The pain numbed as you felt him swallow against your throat, drawing your warm blood into his mouth. Your head fell back. His hand was there to catch it.

A fleeting moment of focus made you think the action was rather intimate. Possibly even sweet.

Another gulp. You squeaked, both in pain and in response to the foreignness of his ministrations. You tugged his collar and your eyes fluttered closed. You moaned softly as you regained your breath. His low growl, nothing more than a vibration, rumbled through your veins. Your body warmed.

Embarrassingly, you didn’t realize the rest of your body was moving until Astarion’s hand flattened over your hip. A groan left you when his teeth retracted from you swiftly. A cold hand held your own. Your neck stung when you turned your head.

Astarion’s pupils were blown wide so only a sliver of red outlined them. He’d shoved himself away, dropping your hand and stumbling into a standing position. With his fingers he wiped away your blood staining his lips. You stared, unabashed, when he licked them clean. He panted though he had no use for breath.

Lightheaded and slow, you sat up.

“Are you alright?” Concern rang in your words.

Gods above, Astarion thought, you had blood trickling from the puncture wounds in your neck that’d he’d left—fuck, he wanted to dive back in and lick up the trail leading down your chest—and you’re the one asking him if he’s alright.

His mind cleared. His hunger was satiated for now. His cock was hard. He hated how your moans affected him. He wasn’t even trying to bring them out of you, though he caught himself imagining how he could. Whatever it took to make you trust him, with no doubts. You claimed you already did, but would you go so far as to help him with his personal ambition?

The scent of your blood--gods, he was awash with pleasure of a kind he couldn’t name. He felt strong and…happy. Astarion was certain he’d said that out loud, judging by the shy smile on your lips. He’d have the blissful image and the taste of you on his mind all night.

Astarion made some excuse to get away from you, the first person he’d tasted since turning into the monster he was. He was invigorated. Ready to take on anything and anyone. Something he admitted to himself: he would --possibly, maybe-- willingly do just that for you. He would not soon forget what you had gifted him.

#bg3 #bg3 imagine #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate three #astarion #astarion bg3 #Astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #astarion bg3 imagine #Astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #Astarion ancunin imagine #my work #mine

[earthtooz]

second chance romance with sae. write it.

x : WITH(OUT) :*+ﾟ

in which: after a messy breakup with sae, you find yourself waking up next to him two weeks later, this time just more in love.

warnings: 1.8k words, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, SFW, gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff with quite a bit of angst, a lot of metaphors here and there i apologise if they don't make sense get on my brainwave (nicely), ooc!sae perhaps uhh lol, bad writing, reblogs appreciated!!

a/n: lets see if tumblr community labels this post... sigh. rip first version u were a champ. this is my official claim to become tumblr's sfw itoshi brothers (separate) writer. i've made progress with rin, it's time to show some (reluctant) love to sae!! i literally only wrote this bc @limitlesshq and i had an agreement.

you wake up due to the rustling beside you, the movement rousing you from your slumber as the world becomes ever so clearer with each millisecond, the drowsy haze wearing off you as you take in your surroundings.

there’s a white ceiling overhead, the mattress beneath you feels like a cloud, and you can’t remember when your sheets turned a shade of gray. no- scratch that, you can’t remember when your mattress became this soft. 

hold on.

this wasn’t your room and the mop of magenta hair lying atop your chest is an indicator of such.

you’re in bed with a soccer star who just so happens to be the ex you messily broke up with two weeks ago. he’s wrapped around you like nothing had ever happened; as if you two were still in love and devoted to one another and hadn’t shouted at each other to the point that your throats were sore for a days afterwards. 

you needed to get out of here which was something easier said than done. especially when you had itoshi sae lying on top of you, wrapping you in a vice grip as he sunk further and further into your warmth, chest methodically rising up and down. you want to slap him for being so peaceful in this very moment. that should be you but instead, you’re panicking and trying to avoid another messy scene with your ex. 

the fact that said-ex was itoshi sae too… goodness what have you gotten yourself into. you should get out of here before it’s too late.

slowly, you begin to shuffle away, trying to pull yourself away from sae’s grasp. 

you’re halfway out when you hear the magenta-haired whine quietly, the sound causing you to turn your head and look at him. it’s to your horror that you’re greeted by a pair of hazy, turquoise eyes, still groggily waking up as sae tries to adjust to his bearings. he blinks a few times, waking up a little more with each flutter.

“where are you going?” he asks, voice hoarse from unuse. his arm tightens ever so slightly around you, pulling you back towards him and completely ruining your efforts.

you’re stunned, unsure of how to respond as sae tucks himself into your chest, breathing you in.

you hate the way you feel your heart lurch in your chest, rapidly beating with the urge to be as close as possible to him. this feels like a life you once knew, especially when his fingers start running up and down your spine, nimbly finding their way under your shirt. 

“sae,” you breathe out and his ministrations stop, diverting all of his attention upon you. “i have to go.”

he groans his protest, shaking his head. “why?”

“i just have to.”

“no.”

“what?”

“stay.”

“what?”

“did you not hear me? i said stay.”

just to prove his point a little more, he puts even more of his weight on you, tangling his legs with yours as if rooting you to his mattress. ever so demanding, he is.

the breakup was disastrous and entirely hurtful, wrecking you from the inside out when you woke up the next morning registering the previous night. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so heartbroken and it hurt even more with every trace of sae that remained in your apartment. looking back, perhaps it was a little naive to believe that he was the one for you, that he was your endgame and not simply another lesson to heal from. all that time spent in a relationship, crumbled thanks to an argument that lasted for three hours and ended with a decisive slam of his door. 

yet just when you thought you were making process on the journey away from him, sae finds a way to pull you back in.

“i can’t stay,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky.

the magenta-haired looks up at you, apathetic eyes boring into yours. “but why?”

“i just- i just can’t. thank you for letting me stay over but i’m going to go home now-”

fingers thread through yours and sae’s hand pulls yours closer towards him. a pair of warm lips press themself to your skin and linger there as if burning and branding you- all of you, as his. 

he then kisses each of your fingers delicately and softly. “don’t go,” he mutters between pecks.

you feel a little breathless. like he’s punched your gut with every piece of gentle affection he plants, twisting the knife he had stabbed in your chest two weeks ago deeper and deeper, reopening the raw wound of hurt and pain with unmatched love.

you need to leave before anything else can happen, before you begin breaking down in front of him. 

quickly shuffling away from the athlete, you abruptly pull your hand out of his, throwing the covers off of you. however quick you may have been though, sae is undeniably faster, his hands crossing the distance to pull you back. his strength forces you to sit down once more and you bounce a little from the soft impact. he drapes himself around you again, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“let me go,” you plead, putting your hands over his wrists as if trying to pry them off but you feel too much for sae to truly try and resist him. his spell, no matter how hard you try to fight back, is just as potent. 

you fear that you may never be immune to his poison. 

he begins trailing kisses along your skin, uncharacteristically affectionate. “i can’t,” he begins, voice wavering uncharacteristically, traces of heartbreak evident in his tone. this display of emotion shocks you endlessly and you stop fighting against him, freezing when you feel his breath shudder against your skin.

your heart is thumping heavily, causing your chest to clench.

"stop messing around, we-"

"i'm not messing around just stay," he hushes gently, "please."

you feel the world stop for a second. sae? pleading? he knew how to do that? the prospect of sae beseeching for anything was incredibly unfamiliar and the fact that his voice cracked merely proves how entirely unfamiliar the word was in his vocabulary. 

the love you feel for him will choke you before heartache does. unbeknownst to you, a tear begins sliding down your cheek and you don’t feel it until it’s halfway down.

“hey, hey, hey,” the magenta-haired mumbles, catching the tear with his thumb. “don’t cry.” 

he sounds so tender and doting it hurts. there’s so much love in the way he’s holding you, pressing himself closer to you with each minute as if he hates the idea of being too far away from you, as if he was trying to make sure that you were still the same love of his life from before he hurt you tremendously, as if he was committing you to memory before he does lose you forever.

but he doesn’t want that. he wants to stay with you. sae doesn’t think he can handle another day without you, that’s why he’s so stubborn to keep you here; to put you under his spell again so that you could feel an ounce of the love he has stored for you. so that this love has somewhere to go before it inevitably ruins him, punishing him for being so stupid. 

“i’m sorry,” whispers sae hurriedly. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry pretty, don’t cry.”

glancing away from him, you wipe away any remaining tears, inhaling deeply as to try and collect yourself with whatever willpower you had left.

"i need to leave," you murmur, not entirely meaning it.

"no you don't," he answers, entirely meaning it. "just stay until breakfast or something."

wordlessly, you fall back in his grasp, leaning into the athlete when you feel rapid beating against your arm. that’s when you realise that it wasn’t your racing heart… it was his. 

giving in to his desires, you tuck your legs back up on the bed and he manoeuvres you, practically cradling you whilst you find solace in his neck with your arms wrapped around his torso. here, you feel whole again. 

you’ve lived life with sae and without sae and you now know well enough to prefer the former. something tells you he feels the same too. 

“are you going to stay for breakfast?” he asks after a few minutes of simply soaking up the other’s presence. glancing up at him, his expression remains beautifully neutral, illuminated perfectly by the bright morning light that seeps through his windows. he’s radiant, gorgeous as ever. 

you hum against his skin. “i’m not too sure. i was going to leave before breakfast.”

“let’s go back to sleep then. i’m not hungry anymore.”

amused by his request, you agree nonetheless and sae is able to move the both of you around to the same positions you had woken up in with you on your back and him on top of you. the soccer player then pulls you closer and throws his leg over your hips- something he does to keep you in your spot so you won’t slip away from him again.

you won’t. you don’t want to leave and live a life without him. 

“are we back together?” you hesitantly ask. the question floats into the tranquil air, afraid to break whatever quiet, ecstatic haze you were both in but you need to know.

“will you take me back?” the soccer player counters, surprisingly shy and unsure, so unlike the arrogant sae you’re used to. he’s putting all the cards on your table despite knowing what he wants because although he wants to be with you for eternity and a little longer after that, it’s up to you to decide whether or not he deserves such a paradise.

sae can only hope you’re merciful. 

“i want to. i miss ‘us’, i miss you.” 

he immediately feels a heavy weight lift itself off and the exhale the magenta-haired lets out communicates his magnitude of relief. fate has saved him today. 

“good.” is all he says as your hands rise to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. “be here when i wake up.”

“so demanding,” you joke with a smile, “but okay.” 

as sae dozes off once more, you take the time to scan around his room once more whilst trying to lull yourself into dreamland as well. 

his decor had always been rather plain and it didn’t change until you started dating. remnants of you have been lingering around his place and you’re surprised he didn’t get rid of them the night you left out of rage. a little nanodroid that you gave him of a character from an anime you both like sits on his shelf, there’s that little fake plant on his desk, and there are still photos of you two on his dresser. 

he used to only have one pillow and the only reason he bought more was so you could sleep over comfortably. you don’t think too hard about the lingering smell of sae’s shampoo on the pillows that you had previously claimed as ‘yours’.

shifting a little so that you were comfortable, you gaze up at sae’s ceilings once more. a gentle smile makes its way to your face before you doze off peacefully knowing that two hearts have found their way back home. 

#tumblr will di3 by my blade. #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

[italiansteebie]

Secret relationship steddie getting through vecna without suspicions from the others until steve hasn’t left eddie’s bedside for a week and he somehow knows wayne munson's phone number from memory and even gets a hug from the man when he enters the room. And he gets to stay when the others are kicked out.

It’s only when eddie wakes up that everything comes out.

He cracks open his eyes, meeting the gazes of dustin, wayne, and robin, but no steve.

“Where’s my baby?” he murmurs, and from the outside it sounds like “where mah beebee.” He watches the faces in front of him turn into something of confusion. “My baby, my baby. I want him.” It comes out clearer, and unfortunately for them wayne understands immediately and unknowingly outs them. “Steve’s off gettin’ some food, he’ll be back in just a minute,” Wayne pats eddie’s hand gently, watching as the kid smiles, eyes drooping once again.

Dustin and robin share a look but they choose to ignore it, maybe wayne heard wrong or eddie is just on too many painkillers.

Until steve walks in, seeing eddie’s eyes, tired, but open. He drops the coffee he’d brought back for wayne and bolts to eddie’s side.

Eddie raises a hand and cups steve’s face, “hey baby.” and for the first time, dustin and robin see steve harrington cry. “I told you-” he pauses to sniffle, “I told you not to be a hero,” his voice cracks, holding back tears. Eddie grabs his hand “‘M still here, baby.” and the dam breaks. Steve is sobbing into eddies chest, while the metalhead runs a weak hand through his hair.

Wayne would deny it with all his heart if anyone asked, but he shed a tear at the display in front of him, he wasn’t sure about steve harrington the first time eddie brought him home, but damn, the kid weaseled his way into his heart. And as touching as the moment was, dustin and robin where still highly confused.

Steve’s tears slowed, and he lifted his head from eddies chest, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Uh. Excuse me?” robin broke the silence, and the little world steve had found himself in shattered.

Eddie smiled though, ever the brave. “Me nd stevie are datin’. He’s mah baby.” he ended the sentence by placing a sloppy kiss on steve’s cheek. Dustin was, surprisingly, satisfied with that answer, but robin was not.

“YOU MADE FUN OF ME OVER TAMMY WHEN YOU’RE HERE WITH… HIM?”

Steve blushed, “We had just met when i started at scoops okay! It was really new, i- i didn’t know how to tell you so…. I just decided to be overly supportive by bashing your taste in women.”

This set robin off, and she didn’t stop until a nurse came in and threatened to have her removed from the premises.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #best friend robin #dustin henderson #brotherly dustin henderson #steddie #secret steddie #secret relationship #best friend robin buckley #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #soft steve harrington #soft eddie munson #soft wayne munson #wayne knows about steddie #supportive wayne munson #supportive robin buckley #supportive dustin henderson #steve and dustin #steve and robin #robin and eddie #dustin and robin #dustin and his dads #steve harrington headcanon

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

heyy! tom blyth is soo omg. anyways can you do young c.snow with 3 :)

‘’Don’t die in there. I expect a kiss when you get back.’’

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The moment he saw you on the screen at the reaping ceremony, Coriolanus knew he was fucked. 

Falling for his assigned tribute wasn't part of the plan and could complicate his role as a mentor — or jeopardize his shot at winning the Plinth prize —, but as they say, you can’t help who you fall for.

The night before the games, Coriolanus sneaked down to the Capitol zoo to talk to you. It was risky to go there without any security after what happened to Arachne Crane, but it was night-time. He assumed the tributes would all be sleeping.

And he needed this last moment before he might never see you again.

You were sleeping as soundly as one could against a big rock when you heard your name. The voice was just above a whisper, not trying to wake the other tributes. 

Stirring from your sleep, you frowned as you recognized the voice of your mentor. ‘’Coryo?’’ you whispered into the darkness, squinting to see through the shadows.

You heard your name again, this time clearer, and you stood to meet him at the gates where he was usually waiting for you with a sandwich or a cookie. But unlike the other days, his hands were empty as he waited for you.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ you asked, a small smile curling on your lips. 

Even through the dark, you could make out the blue of his eyes. He was so beautiful.

‘’I apologize for waking you during your last hours of rest, but I needed to see you. To…thank you for saving me back in the arena.’’

You shrugged. ‘’If I want you to help me in there, I was gonna need my mentor.’’

Coriolanus nodded. Although he wished you had saved him because you cared about him, he understood that your mind was focused on the game. After all, it was your life who was on the stake, not his. 

Sensing your worry and fear, his hands found yours through the gates, gently caressing the back of it with his thumb. ‘’Everything is gonna be okay,’’ Coriolanus promised. ‘’You will win. I believe in you.’’

‘’Some of the other tributes are stronger than me, Coryo. It’s not looking to be in my favor…’’ A tear fell from your eyes and he quickly wiped it with a handkerchief. 

‘’Don’t think about what you can’t do and focus on what you can do. You’re intelligent, quick and small enough to fit in any of the vents. Never forget your best ally — there are cameras everywhere watching. Get the public’s attention and heart and they will send money to help you. I will help you, I’m gonna get you out of here.’’ 

He seemed sincere, so you believed him. He was the only person from the outside who could help you.

His hand, who wiped your tears, was still on your face, resting against your cheek. It felt nice, you decided. You never wanted him to stop touching your face. 

Without realizing, you were both slowly leaning in. Your mouths were about to touch, but Coriolanus dodged your kiss. 

‘’Sorry, I shouldn’t have—’’ you quickly apologized, breaking all contact with him. ‘’I misread the situation.’’

The blond shook his head. ‘’No. You have not,’’ he assured. ‘’I want to kiss you, I really do, but I’d rather kiss you after your victory.’’

You looked down, not as optimistic as him. 

Coriolanus pressed his forehead against yours through the bars of the gates. ‘’Don’t die in there. I expect a kiss when you get back.’’ 

‘’I’ll try not to.’’

—

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[jadeysjasmine]

Follow the leader - Alexia Putellas x Reader

A/N: in the YOU BOUGHT A DUCK?' universe

Summary: The ducks have imprinted on alexia, seeing her as a maternal figure. based on this

Alexia had been out of training for a few weeks, having a second surgery in her knee so she was currently recovering. In this time you were training alone, traveling to away games alone while Alexia stayed home, she was being her usual closed off self, dismissing any talk regarding her feelings surrounding the injury.

During these past few weeks Alexia has spent a huge amount of times with the ducks, she had been forming a special bond with them, sending you photos of their daily adventures while you were away.

Even though she was suppose to be resting as much as possible and refrain from unnecessary exercise, her knee had been fine so she decided that on her days off she would build the ducks a more permeant home with a pond in your back garden, much to your dismay, one with more space for them to roam as they were growing exponential amounts. 

You had just  arrived home from training, calling out for your girlfriend but you received no response, you checked all over the house for her, the kitchen, living room and even the bedroom but she was nowhere. Frowning you assumed she must be out with Eli or Alba and forgot to tell you, you make your way to the kitchen, properly setting foot and ready to make your post training meal, as you are chopping some vegetable, you hear a voice, shrugging it off as the tv you continue chopping but then you heard it again, louder and clearer.

"No, Louie. Sit!"

You were confused, the voice coming from your back garden, you head out and see Alexia with treats, trying to teach the ducks how to sit. Huey and Dewey were sitting patiently but Louie was not, more interested in getting the treat that the blonde had in her hand. You were leaning against the door, watching on in amusement as the duck continued to defy the words of your girlfriend, only enraging her further.

"You are not getting a treat until you do as you are told and sit!" 

Quack.

"Do not talk back to me!"

Quack.

"Why can you not listen like your brothers, you get your attitude from your other mami." She huffed, almost jumping out of her skin when you scoffed, not expecting you to be home as the bag of treats fell out of her hand and spilled everywhere, all three ducks taking it as a free for all.

"Hola amor, I did not expect you to be home, how was training?" she questioned, grinning sheepishly as she made her way over to you, trying to press a sweet kiss to your lips, missing and hitting your cheek as you turned your head away from her, the blonde pouted before trying to kiss you again, whining when you stopped her by placing a hand on her chest.

"No no no, no kisses. I don't want you to catch my attitude."

You had to bite back the smile at the frown on her face, trying to keep the fake disappointed act going.

"I did not mean it like that amor, lo siento. I love you and your attitude."

"Oh so I do have an attitude? that is not very nice Ale."

You saw her eyes go wide, trying to back track on her words, she only stopped when she heard you laughing and she realised you were not actually mad, huffing she pushed past you, 3 sets of feet following behind her. You watched her flop on the couch, arms crossed as she tried to act annoyed but you could see right through her, the ducks eventually caught up to her and made home by her feet.

You plopped yourself in her lap, peppering kisses all over her face, you knew that she couldn't stay mad at you for long, you were her kryptonite after all. She was trying really hard not to melt into your touch, softly kissing her lips you whispered, "I'm sorry baby, please forgive me."

"I do not know if I can, maybe you have to earn my forgiveness and make it up to me."

The smug grin on her face and the way her hands roamed your hips gave you a clear indication of what she was after, you decided to play along, "Anything Ale," faux confusing lacing your voice, something you know the blonde loves. Squealing as she picked you up, making a beeline for the bedroom, you started peppering kisses on her neck and jaw, up to her ear, slightly nibbling on her earlobe, hearing a shaky breath coming from your girlfriend. You stopped when you heard multiple footsteps, pulling back from her neck you see the ducks following along.

"Ale."

She hummed in response.

"The ducks, they're following us."

She stopped abruptly, cause the ducks to walk into the back of her legs. Looking around and seeing all three ducks happily sitting at her feet, she opened your bedroom door, getting ready to enter, when the ducks also started to join.

"No, stay."

All three ducks listened to her, sitting in their spot as she closed the door, rolling her eyes as she spoke "Now they listen to me."

You tried to hide your smile at the captain. She threw you unceremoniously on the bed, making a move to get on top of you when you heard a quack. She tried to ignore it at first, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss but the ducks were persistent and getting louder, groaning she got up and opened the door, they waddled in and straight to Alexia, she looked far from pleased at the interruption but she loved the ducks, clearly as much as they loved her so she wasn't too harsh with them, Instead she left the room with them eager to teach them more tricks.

You on the other hand, left high and dry, you were irked.

----

Later on in the evening, Alexia had made it up to you by showering with you. You both cuddled up on the couch watching shows before she had dragged you out to show you the new tricks she had taught the ducks, you had to admit you were quite impressed at how many tricks she had taught them and how they listened to her every word (minus louie).

She was now cooking dinner, you watched as she navigated your kitchen, ducks following her in a line and that's when it clicked, the ducks have imprinted on Alexia, now seeing her as a maternal figure. You quickly snap a pic, sending it to your group chat, a few of the girls tease her for being so soft, others announce their next visit because 'their children are getting too big'.

Alexia notices you giggling at your phone, completely engrossed in whatever is on your screen, she sneaks over - which is very hard to do with 3 very loud side kicks, and snatches your phone before reading your conversation, you see her eyebrows furrow before she huffs, giving you your phone back.

"I'm not soft."

You had to look away as she stormed off, knowing if she heard you laugh it'd make it worse, the ducks following behind in a perfect line. 

"Only a little bit but Amor they are so cute playing follow the leader."

You heard a loud huff before your bedroom door slammed, unable to hold in your laugh anymore as you were bundled over, clutching your stomach.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso blurbs

[garoujo]

NOW PLAYING: ✩ ˛˚ . 𝓓𝓐𝓓𝓓𝓨’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 feat. GOJO SATORU!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ wc: 4.8k! your step dad knows that at the end of the day you’ll always be a daddy’s girl.. you just don’t realise it yourself!

warnings! f!reader, stepcest, noncon!somno (kissing & touching) -> eventual consent (it happens more than once, you wake up during one of them & it escalates to more), stepdad!gojo, age gap, you refer to him as ‘daddy’, this is my submission for @killsaki’s family ties collab, fank u so much starry for letting me join & write this! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! it’s been a while since i’ve written step daddy!gojo but pls head the warnings! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

it’s late, you think aimlessly as you find yourself blinking drowsily at the crappy slasher you’ve wound up watching on the couch in the living room. you’re tired, but you can’t sleep and the more you think about it the more restless you feel as you try to burrow yourself deeper into the plush blanket that’s wrapped around you, comfortable but you still feel cold as you wait—beg for sleep to take you.

another drowned out screen rattles you as it pours into the room and you find yourself pouting before deciding to flick through your phone instead. it’s like you’re caught in a haze as you swipe through your feed, offering the tv a quick glance every so often but you’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings to hear the careful steps behind you.

there’s another scream followed by another sigh from you before you jolt when long arms fall across your shoulders, followed by a smooth voice that steals your entire attention with how much it seems to soothe you.

“oh? you’re up late.” your stepdad gojo drawls as his looming figure drapes over the back of the couch behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head as his crystalline gaze squints at the tv screen before you nudge him off with a huff.

“what the hell, satoru!” you grumble as you turn around to shoot him a frown from over your shoulder, but that only seems to make him meet you with a smirk before he’s rounding the couch to see you clearer. “but yeah, i just cant sleep.”

“you scared?” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the way gojo’s smile twitches wider, sending you a narrowed sort of look beneath the snowy peaks of his hair as he tilts his head at you. but you hate how good he was at it, making you cross your arms as you try to focus back on the movie you were now suddenly so interested in again.

“you’re so annoying.” it’s a half-hearted rebuke, you’re far too tired to think up something witty and you know even if you did, he’d say something even more infuriating.

gojo was always like that with you, he seems to take pleasure in getting to you, prodding you for a reaction and it’s annoying how good he is at doing it. maybe that’s just how he was, the role of father to someone else’s child seemed to come a lot easier to him than it might to others, but you always put that down to the megumi he always spoke about, so that was never an issue. although you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that your stepdad likes teasing you a little more than he does everyone else.

“hm, you need protectin’? ‘ts my job remember.” his honeyed tone brings your tired gaze from your thoughts and back to him before he knocks his hand against your thigh, ushering you along the couch before his lanky body is falling into the spot right next to you.

“i can take care of myself.” you huff as you look away from him again and you hear gojo hum like he’s thinking it over before he breathes out a laugh, letting his palm push under the blankets to smooth across your thigh like some sort of faux attempt to soothe you. the touch lingers longer than you’d like but you swallow it down, he’s always been a little touchy.

“oh? but a sweet thing like you is always first to go.” you hate the way the compliment mixed with the back and forth motion of his hand on your skin feels like it burns you. it’s like something ignites in your skin despite how cold you felt a moment ago and it’s sinful the way your instincts seem to push you closer to him as you seek out more.

your stepdad gojo always ran warm so you’ll blame it on that rather than the heat that’s buzzing along your shoulders and thighs with every swipe of his hand, his fingers squeezing comfortingly at the skin as you make yourself comfortable in his side. despite the teasing, you were always close so the proximity isn’t something that was completely new, although this feeling is.

“nah, it’s always the annoying, handsome ones.” you’re blissfully unaware of your adorable little reply until you hear the snowy haired man next to you chuckle before he’s pulling your legs over his, sending you a look that makes you cast him a sidewards glance before you’re avoiding it all together.

“is that right?” gojo goads, deliberately as he pinches at your thigh a little too hard but just enough to have you kicking your legs before he’s wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulder again, this time to curl you closer into him as his lips rest against your temple. he can feel you grumbling, probably a little embarrassed you just called your stepdad handsome but he’s sure the things going on in his mind right now are a whole lot worse.

“shutup, you’re missing the movie.” but you’re just too adorable for him to ignore.

but your stepdad thinks you’re so pretty when an hour or two later you’re finally asleep — your cheek pressed against his shoulder when his ministrations on your skin mixed with his comforting body heat has finally lulled you.

gojo finds himself wanting to rest there a little longer as he stretches out his neck meanwhile probably the fourth sequel to that shitty movie plays. but he lets his muscles pop before he’s pulling you closer and sighing when he finds his eyes dropping to the press of your chest against his own, broader one. it’s sinful, he knows he shouldn’t deliberately put himself this close to you, not when he’s well aware of your little crush on him — one that he welcomes, maybe due to his own growing affection that stemmed way past that of a father figure at this point.

although despite his own selfish desires to keep you pressed against him all night, he knows you’ll complain tomorrow about the uncomfortable sleeping position and as much as he’d like to use the opportunity to insist that he’s the comfiest, he knows he should let you sleep.

“gotta get you to bed, angel. yeah?” so gojo tries to push himself up from the couch as he whispers to you, carefully as to not rouse you from your sleep but it proves unsuccessful when your brows fall into a frown. your arm round his waist to squeeze yourself closer as your pretty, sleepy feathers tilt perfectly up at him and it’s almost like you’re teasing him as he falls back against the cushions behind him, your lips parted and pouty — like you’re begging for him.

your mom did always complain about how much he spoils you.

he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t uncommon for dads to kiss their daughters goodnight and who is he to skip out on the necessities of his role. so gojo let’s his gaze drop to your lips before his fingers are tracing along the shape of your jawline, holding you there before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips as a goodnight and then again because he wants to, because he can.

the kiss is short and sweet but you whimper as he pulls away, pushing yourself closer like you’re asking for more and it’s like his self control seems to snap, string by string at the sight of you so pliant against him. suddenly the man who was considered to be the strongest is nothing but weak at the sight of his own step daughter.

“gotta stop teasing me like this, sweet girl. g’nna make me do something you’ll hate me for.” but gojo leans in again anyway, deliberately this time as his lips end up back on yours for a kiss that’s just as warm although it seems harder. you’re pulled in close and despite the way something in his chest tells him to stop, he won’t—he can’t. he lets his mouth press you open, moving you so easily but still gentle enough not to wake you as he parts your lips, grunting when his tongue finally pushes up against yours and his hands fall to your body once more.

he lets his tongue graze along your own, tasting you deeply until there’s a twitch in his hips and a throb in his cock when his palm falls to your chest, taking a slow handful of your tits before he’s swiping his thumb across the shape of your nipple and growing hungrier when it pulls a whimper from you.

gojo knows he’s too far gone now, but you’re still asleep — his own little step daughter putting all of your trust in your step dad like he isn’t kissing your pliant body right now, squeezing and palming at your breasts in his palms before he’s throwing caution to the wind and trailing under the hem of your shirt instead. your skin feels like silk beneath his hands and the first, real press of your chest is heavenly as he licks into your mouth, wishing he could feel you kissing him back as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

he gives himself a few moments before he pulls away, before he gets carried away and lets his hand fall back to your hips. but it’s like instinct the way it explores the topography of your body — finding the heat of your intimate skin almost too quickly as his lips trail hungrily down your neck. 

gojo can feel the sweet press of your pussy through the little shorts you’d opted to wear, he can imagine how it would feel when his tongue would graze through your slick folds but he knows he’d still rather have the real thing, instead he’s left with an infinite void that only seems to make his cravings worse. he rolls your sensitive skin between his teeth before he rubs at your clothed clit with two fingers and the sound it pulls from you is oh so fucking sweet.

“oh, daddy knows what y’need.” you’re so fucking sensitive, he wants nothing more than to hear you cry for your daddy — breathing out sweet little uh-huhs and pleas as he pushes into you but he won’t wake you, not yet. so he’ll keep his movements gentle, light despite the way he can feel you growing warmer, stickier under the press of his thumb when his voice is pressed to your skin and your thighs twitch with every intoxicating flick of his wrist.

you’re close and he’s warm, breathing deep as gojo pushes himself deeper into you — igniting the spit soaked nerves along your skin as he suckles another mark into your neck but just as he goes to toy with the waistband of your shorts, he stops. he swallows deep, harshly as he catches his breath — like he’s just snapped out of a daze before he’s giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek and a look that lasts a little too long before he speaks.

“time for bed, sweet thing.”

but you’ll wake up alone, warm and sticky like you just woke up from a lewd dream with the pulse of a hickey on your throat — tucked up in your bedroom like you didn’t fall asleep on the couch as you mutter out a “daddy?” and you’ll stay unknowing. for now. until he says so.

you’ll have that pretty little dazed, confused look on your face when your soft footsteps make their way to the kitchen and gojo, your stepdad, will be there to meet you like he always is when your mom is on another business trip as he leans over the counter — his head propped up against his fist as he sends you a teasing expression.

“why’re you looking at me like that?”

“hey now, no good morning? you break my heart.” you smile a bit at his words, blame it on your body still waking up but he seems to like that as he pushes himself up from the counter, giving you a little relief from him bothering you as your stepdad opts to putting a cup for you right next to his own on the counter.

“mom will kill you for using so much sugar in your coffee, didn’t she tell you to stop that.”

your words make gojo’s usual smirk stretch along his features as he takes a few languid steps towards you, sending you a half-lidded look over the frames of his glasses before he’s chuckling. “come on now, don’t be like that. i think we’re allowed our own little secrets.” he quips back quickly, letting his palm pat along your shoulders and you think it’s strange the way your skin seems to twitch and tingle at the swift, seemingly innocent touch despite the way you feel it turn your stomach.

but despite the uneasy feeling that you’re not sure you like at all, aswell as the increasing damp spot in your panties most mornings and the uncomfortable heat that only seems to grow and burst in your stomach every time you see him. you still seek him out when you’re tired and he welcomes you with open arms as you curl into him on the couch, it’s only natural to take more when he’s so eager to give, right?

this was torture for your stepdad too after all, gojo wants nothing more than for you to blink up at him as he breaks you open — he wants to feel the stretch of your walls and taste of your slick pussy on his tongue but he’s held himself back. you should be grateful that he’s only settled for playing with you through your clothes when you sleep on his chest, quenching his thirst for you with a few messy, sloppy goodnight kisses.

but you’re feeling particularly restless tonight despite the way you normally slept so well against your stepdads chest — finding your sleep anything but deep as you slip in and out of consciousness uncharacteristically. it always seems to find you again quickly, normally due to the soothing graze of your snowy-haired pillows fingers along the length of your spine or the smooth hum of his voice.

though when you wake next, the last thing you want to do is sleep when you realise your thighs are spread and your step dads lips are on your neck, his hand pushed down the front of your shorts to rub sticky circles into your clit through your panties.

“daddy?” your voice is weak, wound up tight with the way gojo’s pressing the pads of his fingers into you and keeping you in place, but he freezes when he realises you’re awake — readying himself to pull away despite the way your body is begging him to stay. he grunts and his hand works to leave you but you reach for him and pull him back before you tangle your other hand in his hair. “daddy~”

your back feels sticky where it presses against his chest and despite how disgusting it should feel, you’ve never felt warmer as you spread your thighs wider and you lose every sense of right and wrong with his touch. you hook them over his own as his hips press tight against yours from behind, the angle letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he chuckles breathlessly into the crook of your neck.

“oh? well good mornin’ sweet thing. didn’t know you were so greedy f’ me.” gojo’s lips curl when you shudder into him and he takes your new found consciousness as an invitation for him to push through the final layer of your soaked panties, finally allowing himself to pet through your folds as he eases past the thin fabric.

“what—ah! what’re you doing?” it’s filthy, the break in your voice when he groans at the slick he collects under his touch — trailing it up the press of your pussy to circle your clit as you murmur out another sweet cry for your daddy. so sweet, that only makes him press down on the sensitive bud harder, keeping you tight against him as he rubs at you with two fingers and smears a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me, ‘ts mean to lie to your daddy.” your body does little to defend you when every swipe of gojo’s fingers has your hips twisting under his touch. “hm, think i’m spoilin’ you too much, ‘s that it?” his movements slow with his words and he thinks it’s adorable the way you hiccup and beg for him to keep going, grinding into the press of his palm as you babble about how you like when he spoils you.

that’s what everyone says, your mom would always tell him to stop babying you but fuck if only she could see you now.

but he hums, with that same teasing demeanour he always has before his movements come to a halt and the look you send him over your shoulder makes his cock twitch as pretty tears gather at your lashes. gojo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, then he leans into give you another affectionate, soothing kiss on the cheek before his fingers are sinking into your pussy.

“mmm, do i treat you well, sweet thing? you’re such a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya?” you feel him smirk against your cheek as he curls his long fingers inside the squeeze of your walls, letting his palm rub against your slick pussy everytime he sinks them deeper into you until you’re shaking filthily in his lap. he quickly finds a pace that makes your toes curl from where they’re hanging over his thighs, your body rocking in time with him as you ride his fingers and you know he fucking loves that when he rewards you with another hickey suckled into your throat.

“yes, yes, y-yes! ‘m daddy’s girl— satoru, please,” you can barely think never mind speak with how perfectly gojo’s pressing into the sweet spots inside of you, your words coming out a jumble of moans and whines. it’s like he’s mapped out your nerves before hand despite the way this has been the first real feel of you. but his fingers are so long that it’s almost too much with how well he seems to pet at your walls, so good that you could spend forever right here.

“oh, then i’m all you need, yeah? your one ‘nd only?” gojo’s words are possessive when they’re buried into the next hickey he sucks into your skin, his tongue hot as it lavs over the raised mark but it only seems to ignite the flames that lick at your spine as your legs shake. your thighs close around his wrist but he only fights to pry you back open so he can watch the way you cream around your stepdads fingers, laughing so fucking infuriatingly when he keeps going until you’re twitching and making his smug smirk stretch even wider.

“so good fo’ me, wish you could see how pretty y’ look like this, princess.” you’re breathing in short, quick pants as the buzz from your orgasm makes you dizzy. but despite that, you still seem to move so easily when you feel your daddy pat at your trembling thighs, urging you to push yourself off his lap and onto the cushion at his side before he’s turning to look at you once more.

“gonna look even better on daddy’s cock though, yeah?” gojo lets his large hands smooth their way up your thighs before he pushes himself up to his knees — easing down the waistband of his sweats to take out his heavy cock as you nod shyly, still reeling from your orgasm as your eyelashes flutter prettily.

you should feel gross with the way you almost drool at the sight of your stepdads cock, someone who’s meant to parent you not fuck you, but you think that shameful part of you already died when you creamed around his fingers. now, you’re only left with the longing to have him sink up into you, warm and long. so he leans down to kiss you greedily, pressing you into the cushions beneath you as your thighs spread for the push of his hips and wrap around him.

“hmmm, so greedy. my pretty baby.” gojo mumbles as he yanks your shirt up to pool around your breasts and the sight makes his cock twitch as he pulls back to give you a pretty look, brushing his hand through the snowy peaks of his hair so you can take in his hypnotising gaze that make you shudder underneath it like you would on a white winter. he presses the blunt tip against the entrance to your pussy and he gives you another teasing grin when he pauses for a few moments, waiting until your lips part to whine at him before they curl around a moan when he sinks into you instead.

but he knows he’s really fucked with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him as he breaks you open, watching the way your puffy folds spread for him because he knows he’ll never be able to stop. now he’s had a taste of the pretty little pussy that’s always parading around his home, he wants to keep you all to himself — ruining you for anyone who isn’t your daddy. you won’t need anyone else when he’s here.

“daddy! ‘s too much..” you gasp and it draws gojo in so he can kiss you again, rocking gently into the hug of your pussy until he finally bottoms out with a drawn out, long groan as his hips press flush and tight against your own. but because your step dad has always been careful, caring he gives you time to adjust to the stretch as his mouth twists softly into yours — bathing you in sweet kisses that make you relax before your hands are in his hair and you’re smearing your slick along his pelvis as you whimper for more, please! ‘ts s-so big..

“oh, but y’re so hungry for me.” his words are emphasised by the slow sway of his hips, pressing the length of him along the sweet spots inside of you that he reaches so easily as he pulls away to suck on his lower lip. “see?” he grits again as he presses down onto your stomach and it’s insane the way he suddenly feels deeper — the sharp cut of his stare so intense on the way you take him that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could see through you.

“look at me, angel,” gojo’s lips part ever so softly as his eyes search for yours again “wanna see you when y’re on the end of daddy’s cock,” and he wants to pinch your cheeks when you give him a starry-eyed look.

“wanted this pussy for so long, knew it was fuckin’ made just for me.” his words are hissed from between his teeth as he starts a pace that’s not particularly fast, but it’s heavy enough to have you jolting beneath him as his hands grab at your hips to keep you in place. his words are true after all, he can’t even count the amount of times his sweet little step daughter had him hard — too warm under his clothes despite the way he always seemed to look away before you caught him.

maybe if he’d met your gaze, coaxed you into him and let you catch the way he’d drink you up he’d have had you like this sooner. but gojo thought you to be so untouchable, but now your pussy is squeezing tight around his cock and he’s mouthing at your throat like he’s dreamed and that thought seems to fade away.

but your mind is a mess with how well he’s fucking you — losing yourself in the feeling of your daddy, in the feeling of finally having him close to you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to meet every wet connection of his hips with needy little grinds of your own. the blunt head of his cock feels like it slides along all of your sweet spots perfectly and you’re not sure if it’s still the lingering aftermath of your orgasm that has you so close already, or the realisation that the man over you is someone who should be anything but.

the reality is gojo’s deliberately dragging the pleasure out of you, rocking his body seamlessly with your own because he’s determined to have you craving him like he will you. he’s grinding his pelvis along your putty clit with every thrust and he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything sweeter than the sound of his name on your lips when he’s kissing you once more.

“daddy~ ‘m so close!” you gasp dreamily and your pussy squelches as warmth bursts and tingles across your thighs — the sweet lull your voice seems to have taken making the man over you’s pace stutter as he forces more of his cock into your slick walls.

“oh yeah? can tell, squeezin’ real tight already.” gojo grunts as he pushes his body closer to your own, rutting you into the cushions below you like a wild fucking animal despite the way he feels completely at your mercy. he’s past caring, past holding back when the heavens and the earth have dropped a perfect little thing like you right in his lap like he’s the honoured one.

“you want daddy’s cum, sweet thing?” his hands almost curl into your hips and he swear his lungs quake on his next thrust as the needy coax of your walls tremble around him. he needs you to want him, to beg for him before he crumbles under the weight of his own desire. you offer him another moan, followed by a mantra of sweet little yes daddy’s and uh huhs that only make him greedier, but it’s not enough.

“hm? can’t hear you, gotta be nice ‘nd loud f’ me.”

but despite the way you know your mind should be signalling, ringing for you to stop. you can’t, your lips part and you feel like your body is going to crumble with every one of gojo’s crushing thrusts. “yes, yes! p-please, want your cum, daddy!” you gasp despite the way you shouldn’t but you feel him pet at your cheek so softly that you can’t help the way your body betrays you.

“then don’t hold back on me,” your step dad grunts and you don’t, your pussy throbs around him and he grits his teeth as your cream around his cock. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression that has his huge stature curling over you as he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. but he doesn’t stop, he coaxes and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re like putty beneath him, thighs trembling to pull him closer and he hopes the fucking walls remember how pretty you sound when you cry his name.

“only f’ me, sweet girl. yeah?” he asks again and you struggle to stutter out anything coherent with how good you feel, the slight sting of overstimulation making you feel warm as gojo’s breathing becomes laboured and he finally spills hot and thick inside of you. but it’s filthy, when the back and forth stutter of his hips only seeks to push it deeper inside of you, a gooey ring of liquid forming around the base of his cock everytime he draws his hips back before they sink into you with another louder squelch.

he finally stills a few moments later as you whimper at the slight throb between your thighs, pushing gently at his chest to ease him off of you as he gives you a handsome, pink cheeked sort of smirk that you can’t deny makes you feel warm, loved.

“you could’ve atleast woken me up!” you hiss, playfully as you swat at your stepdads chest but he’s quick to take your hand in his before he’s intertwining them, leaning in to press a few kisses along your cheeks until you’re giggling and the infuriating smirk seems to return to his features far too quickly despite the way his softening cock still rests inside of you.

“oh yeah? but you were already so wet you must’ve been dreamin’ of me, sweet girl.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #cw stepcest #cw somno #cw noncon #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,8k words | masterlist

"She is waking up."

Someone is talking, but you don’t know who it is, have never heard that voice before. 

"Is she?" But that voice, you have heard before. And it makes your heart race, panic surging through you and gripping your insides with its invisible claws of fire and ice.

"Yes, Cassian," the female voice states. "She is waking. Thank the Mother."

You shudder — both from feeling cold and the mention of his name. 

"Don‘t worry. Nothing will happen to you, you are safe." The female close to you must have felt your slight tremor, trying to soothe you. Under different circumstances you would have been grateful for this act — now, you can’t really accept it. You don’t know what to do with it. Can you trust her? The stranger? She is so close and it scares you, your eyes not yet opening. But you need to see, to know where you are, and what is going on. 

You ponder over her words, the mention of the word safe…

Nowhere is safe, you think. Not while Cassian and Azriel exist. With them in your life you are nowhere safe. And why the hell did you allow yourself to fall asleep?

You can’t allow yourself to let that happen again. You can't allow yourself such reckless mistakes. You always need to be focused, one step ahead of your enemies. 

Ignoring the voices, you struggle to rise, but your throbbing head spins you off balance.

"Where am I?" you breathe, not recognising your own voice. It sounds weaker than usual, hoarse and ragged. "What do you want from me?"

Blinking against harsh light, only shadows greet your blurred vision. You can only make out silhouettes, no faces, no bodies. Some people stand close to you, some a little further away and one lone figure at the door. You don’t have to see them to know who they are. 

You would always recognise him. Azriel. You start to tremble, your knees feeling wobbly despite sitting down. Blinking rapidly, slowly the haze starts to fade, and everything becomes clearer.

"We regret what occurred. Regret the measures we had to take."

The voice, oddly familiar, leaves you unsettled and cold sweat builds up on the back of your neck. 

"You…" Your breath catches as a large, towering figure appears. Imposing, graceful, powerful.

His hands are shoved into the pockets of his trousers, his violet eyes trained on you. His features are sharp, but his expression is oddly soft.

"Are you…?" Your voice breaks before you can finish your question. 

"Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." The male's voice is loud and strong. "Lady Y/N, I am sorry for what my father—"

"Gods!"

Rhysand. He looks different. Older. More mature. Like his father. You had only seen him a few times back then, never really talked to him, but you knew what he looked like. Everyone did.

You lift your hand. "Don‘t. Don’t apologise. I don’t want to hear that. It was centuries ago and...I don't want to hear it." You can't hear it. Not some silly apologies for things no apologising would ever be enough for.

You don’t want to talk about it — about what happened to you, about what has been done to you. You don’t want the memories to turn up again. You can't let them reach the surface ever again. And most definitely, not now.

Not with Azriel present.

There is unresolved business with everyone in this room, but in this moment it can’t be dealt with. You are not strong enough, your powers still haven’t returned, and there are too many people protecting each other in this moment. 

Rhysand dips his chin, slowly assessing you. "You may wonder why we freed you?" he changes the topic. 

The High Lord surrounds the couch and claims a seat on the couch table in front of you, but you remain silent.

"We need your help." Again, you offer no response.

"It concerns Koschei, the—"

"Death God." Your lips part, meeting his violet gaze. "Why me?"

And so they explain. Everything and in great detail and you listen. To everything that is said until your head feels heavy and starts to spin. It is too much, too many people, too many noises, too much information. 

Azriel stays at the door, and you fight the urge to look at him, not trusting yourself to not lunge at him again and try to claw his eyes out. Your hands are still shackled and telling by the scent of it, the High Lord of Night definitely put a protective shield around you — not to protect you, but rather the others from you.  

You listen carefully to every word that is said, but sometimes your thoughts stray. To Azriel. To the Prison. To what has been done to you and to the betrayal. And to what you know of Koschei. It is so much, your brain nearly breaks your through skull. 

"The bone carver, his—"

"Brother." Another female appears in your vision, she looks beautiful and young and there is a child on her arm. "He is dead. Gave his life for the sake of Prythian."

You speak a silent prayer to the Mother for another old friend you lost. Whispers of Stryga‘s death reached you some time ago and it sent a pang of hurt to your heart. Slowly, everyone is fading from this world, also Lanthys whose charm and lethality you truly came to love in the Prison and mist desperately when he no longer was.

"Meet my wife, my mate and High Lady of the Night Court." Rhysand’s reaches his arm out, curling it around the young female. "Feyre Archeron and our son, Nyx." Rhysand also introduces all the other people in the room, but your mind catches on the High Lady part and for one moment you can ignore Azriel and what the mention of his name and title does to you. 

You furrow your brows when he is done. "A High Lady?"

There had not once been a High Lady when you— Your thoughts are cut off rapidly…that was centuries ago. Obviously things would change — have changed.

You give your head a little shake, chest heaving with a deep inhale. You've missed so much, it hurts. It is a sharp pain, almost like a dagger cutting into your chest, shredding it apart. You have missed centuries in this world. Only because of him. Because of the male who promised you the world. The male who you gave everything to you. Your soul. Your heart. Your body. You loved him and he broke you. Azriel… Your head whips into his direction, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw starts to ache. He is already looking at you, nothing but pain his eyes, his shadows nervously swirling around him. You don't even want to kill him anymore. In all honesty, you never really wanted to. But you want him to hurt. As much as you hurt. 

Inhaling deeply, you clear your mind, ignore your vendetta for a moment, and blow out a long breath.

"What do you need me for? I can’t fight Koschei. I don’t have my powers back, the amulet—"

"In our possession." He hadn’t got ridden of it. Your head whips to Azriel and then to the short, black-haired female standing next to him. She was the one speaking and now her lips are pursed, eyes narrowed into slits through which she assess you. She takes a few steps forward, gaze not once straying from you. 

"My amulet." You almost want to lunge at her, grasping the family heirloom in your hands, never letting go of it again. "I want it back…"

The amulet of Oorid had once been your most treasured possession, the only thing you could keep of your mother, and it will bring your powers back. It is right there. So close and yet so far away. Never will they give it to you just like this. Your hands lift a little and you are reminded of something else — something else that restricts you from being in full control of powers. 

"And apart from that I still have those. I want them removed." With a frown on your face you lift your hands, making the handcuffs and chains clatter. "Even with the amulet back, I can’t do much if I have to keep wearing those." You avoid Azriel’s gaze, but you give Rhysand a reproachful look. 

They want your help, then they must do something for it.

The High Lord once again shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. "If we have your trust, you will have your freedom back."

This sounds good...and fishy. You can’t trust them. And it won’t be freedom like you are used to. Freedom meant riding with them. Hunting and haunting with them. Travelling from one court to another in the dead of night. Freedom—

"Forever?"

His eyes crinkle, and you feel a talon scratch against your mental shields. Did he truly think you would let him roam around in your mind? You had no idea he was a deamati but your wits made you react within mere seconds when you felt his power. Obviously you won't let him in.

"What do you mean…forever?" Cassian is the one asking and you bristle at him. 

"That I am allowed to be free after he is defeated. That you won’t put me in the Prison or in shackles ever again. That I am allowed to lead a life on my own."

"If you can defeat him." 

A female who resembles the High Lady jabs him in the ribs so quickly the general has no time to react, and you almost want to laugh. Serves him right. 

"Yes." The short-haired female says.

"I once was a Prison inmate as well. If you earn our trust, you shall roam freely."

"And how do I earn your trust?" you spit and each word is punctuated. You rise to your feet, suddenly towering a little over the black-haired female. Your gazes lock, power clashing with power. You flash your teeth, fangs showing. 

She has the audacity to smile. "I like her fire," she says to no one in particular. "When you prove yourself useful in destroying the Death Lord and don't spoil our loyalty towards you, then you shall have our trust."

You nearly grimace at the word loyalty because no one in this place, safe for the people you don't know, has ever been loyal to you. 

"But I can't defeat him if I don't have my powers back."

"A bargain it is then."

The black-haired female reaches out her hand and you raise a brow. You have made many bargains in the past, mostly over not that important things. Never over your freedom. 

"You regain your powers, and have your amulet back and you shall have freedom and for that you will help us with Koschei, starting with one special task now and then aiding us in ultimately defeating him."

The thin, loose nightgown suddenly feels so tight, too tight, making it hard to breathe. This decision is grand and should not be made on a whim, but you haven't got time. 

You hold her gaze…She used to be a Prison inmate too. Why would she lie about it? You think you can trust her…or at least partly. There is no one you can fully trust in this world. 

But this bargain will remove the shackles and give you your powers back. And your freedom. 

And so you accept. There is no other option anyway. You bow your hand and reach out both shackled hands, sliding one cold palm against hers. Lightning zips between your bodies and only mere moments after, a tattoo adorns the marred skin of your upper arm. Your gaze lingers on it for a long moment until—

"So shall be it," Rhysand bows his head and fetches you back to the moment. "Follow me into my office."

"First, I want these removed. We made a bargain!" You bare your teeth, holding his gaze while lifting your arms. 

His answer unsettles you.

"Az, remove them." The High Lord tilts his chin at his shadowsinger. You almost want to tell Rhysand that you are actually quite fine with keeping them only to avoid having Azriel touch you, but it is too late. And you won't ever be weak again. You hate him, and he should have any effect on you. He has touched you before, he can also touch you now. 

With the raise of one brow, you turn to Azriel and wave your handcuffed hands into his direction. "Now?"

He says nothing as he pushes off the wall, and slowly makes his way over to you, nothing but grace in his walk. Once again you clench your jaw, worried you'll grind down your teeth to nothing. 

And it doesn't get better. Not when his scarred hands carefully reach for your arms, broad fingers accidentally brushing your skin. It tingles, little sparks flying from his fingertips to your skin. 

Your breath catches.  

Using his shadowsinger powers or whatever, he opens the shackles, catching them before they fall to the ground. "Y/N—"

You step away from him, not giving him a chance to say anything. "Let's go to the office."

"Y/N, please," he tries again and seemingly he doesn't care that his family hears it.

Do they know?

Rhys and Cass didn't know about your relationship back then. Do they know now.

Slowly, you tip your chin up and meet his gaze. It is all in the look you give him, the hurt, the pain, the anger, the hate. You let him see it all and it is answer enough. You don't need to say anything.

He steps away and bows his head.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

You almost shriek when your sharpened nails brush the onyx box, it’s power strong, electric, radiant, stretching out like a dark force that makes your lungs coil. It feels like death itself. 

Your breath catches in your throat, the power the little box holds so similar to your own. Death. 

You analyse the box, assessing it. How can such a little box, hold so much power? You don't even allow yourself to imagine what could be in it. 

"I think I need some books," you breathe after a moment. "And time. As much as I can have."

"We thought so," Feyre says and in the corner of your eye you see how she curls her hand around Rhysand's elbow, their little babe now peacefully asleep in another room. "Hence why we thought it will be a good idea for you to start looking for all the necessary books in our big library. You can work with all of them, whatever you need shall be yours."

You dip your chin at her, once again focusing on the box. It could be opened with old runes…maybe. Or some spells. Witches spells? You are not really acquainted with them, but maybe you need to have a look into those as well. 

"And speaking of the Library…" You turn to Feyre and Rhysand, an expectant look on your face, waiting for the High Lord to continue. 

"After a conversation with the priestesses living in the Library, you are allowed to have a room there. The Library is beneath the House and can only be accessed through the House of Wind.“

How kind, you think. You are allowed to. You almost bristle at the way the High Lord phrased it, but you veil your face in indifference and merely shrug. 

Freedom…right. Being locked into a Library. Underneath this house. That is what freedom looks like. Not. 

"Am I allowed to roam freely there."

The High Lord bows his head. "You are to stay away from the priestesses living there, but you are allowed to roam freely. The females who live in this place have experienced terrible things, we won't allow anything to happen to them again. As long as you don't cause any trouble, you have all the freedom you want to have in there, but if you do something, consequences will follow." 

You almost want to laugh. Consequences…They need your help. And why the hell should you cause any of the priestesses living there trouble? You are deadly, but you are not heartless. Not cruel in that sense of the word. 

You want to say something, to retort something, but the High Lord beats you to it. 

"I think it is a good idea for us to call it a day. You shall rest, you have been through a lot, and getting you out of the Prison and to Velaris most definitely wasn't easy for you."

Velaris…Velara. The High Lord's daughter. Rhysand's sister. Where is she? Why isn't she present. You haven't known her that well, but…you will ask about her another time. Another day. 

"I assume you want to bath and then sleep?"

You do, you really do. Today has been too much and you only want to fall into a bed, now that there is the possibility of actually having a bed again. And warm water to wash. 

Instead of answering, you only hold Rhysand's gaze and then slowly dip your chin. 

"Alright. Then end it here for today. Nesta will escort you to the Library."

You are so very tired. So exhausted. It is all draining. All too much after the century-long imprisonment. And you want to get away from them. From him. You no longer want to be in a room with Azriel. You can't stand to be near him. You can't stand his closeness.

So you find yourself following after Nesta into the Library without saying another word to anyone. And most definitely without deigning Azriel another look. 

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

tag list wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesss @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb @esposadomd @marvelouslovely-barnes @landofpetrichor @sheblogs @zoe2 @leeknows-wife @secretlyhers @itsswritten @lupinswolfsbanes @auggiesolovey @going-through-shit @esposadomd @ithan-holstroms-girl @v3lv3tf0x @hibye02 @karinaligh @darling006 @just-a-social-casualty @shedreamswithstars @dr4g0ngirl @quinzzelx @shadowsingers-redhood @sirenpearldust @rhysandorian @starcrossedsan @spideytingley @historygeekqueen @starryhiraeth @fasoaurore

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

‘ Blurry, Tired Eyes ’

A Drunk! Megumi Fushiguro x Male! Reader | SMUT |

A/N ; Yooooo, ngl, I’m running on zero right now yet I’m still doing this shit so sorry in advance. I don’t know how I honestly found the strength in me. It’s currently two in the morning and my ass is still up. Wide awake. So, I decided I was going to make this and finish it anyway. While staying up the entire night. Ain’t that fun? Anyway, here’s some random guilty pleasure prompt and peep the contents below.

Contents ; Masturbation, inexperienced reader, groping, drunk sex, praise, and daddy issues.

Dynamic ; Best Friends To Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Male!Reader | Dom!Megumi

P.O.V ; Second

Age range ; 18+ 21+

To be honest, you weren’t expecting this many people to show up after announcing the birthday party for Fushiguro. But, here you were, faced with an impending crowd all shoved up against one another, grinding and doing every inexplicable thing as they danced. I guess it’s what you get for entrusting Satoru with the planning.

This was the worst. You hated these types of celebrations and you knew Megumi hated them too. It didn’t help that you happened to be claustrophobic and everybody was sweating. Your face scrunched up, grossed out by the smell of liquor and onions. This was pure puke bait.

“And why the fuck does everybody have to be a whore?” You complained out loud before realizing you did so and watched a bunch of heads turn to look in your direction. That was not supposed to be said out-loud.

You took that as your cue to use your technique to disappear into the shadows and escape out of the situation by traveling to another place in the building. Although, it was extremely straining and gave you a headache once you made it into one of the hallways. Time to look for the birthday boy you’ve been trying to find all day.

Gazing up at the pictures that were hanging about, you looked over a couple that had your peers, hovering over to the stoic frowning Fushiguro who bore his eyes directly into the camera in the photo.

A small smile crossed your face, laughing a little at the memory of Itadori harassing the ravenette until he snapped just before it. Those two were always bickering back and forth, never giving each other a break, not once. It was entertaining to watch them chase each other around. Sometimes, joining in on it when it got out of hand. But, it was usually to hold Megumi back from killing the dumb guy.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, maybe you also helped because you felt left out. The twinges of jealousy when Yuuji would get too close to his face or he’d get in a position with him that looked risqué. Either way, it formed a knot in your throat and you couldn’t help including yourself.

But, that couldn’t mean much. You figured it was because you were overprotective that this feeling frequently came to mind. Megumi had been your exclusive best friend for a couple of years by now. That had to be normal.

A part of you knew that there was more to it than what you were acknowledging. Though, you didn’t want to elaborate on it. There was no point in figuring something like that out if you hadn’t even crossed the flirting stage. And you didn’t know if he was interested in men.

The noise of an object thudding on the ground in the nearby room knocked you out of your mind ramble, causing you to jump in surprise before narrowing your (E/C) eyes at the door. You could sense it wasn’t a curse so that was good. That didn’t mean you were any less curious about who it was.

As you walked toward it, you could hear sounds from the other side getting clearer and clearer. And they didn’t sound innocent. It was groaning and huffing, desperate too. But, not just from anyone, no. This was the familiar voice of the boy you were thinking about a second ago.

Like a hypocrite, your heart felt like it was about to break. ‘He couldn’t be hooking up with somebody, right?’ you worriedly asked in thought, a wave of emotions washing over you before another loud moan muffled through the wooden door.

There was no way you were going to stop yourself from figuring it out after that. Apologizing to Megumi under your breath, you reached for the door knob and opened it to something you never expected to see instead.

The raven-haired male was completely naked from head to toe, leaning over a trash can with his left hand placed on the wall while the other was rubbing up and down his shaft.

His hair was drenched with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, and his chest glistened in the lamp light. There were veins popping from his arms, neck, and most of all, his dick. His thumb focusing on his tip every couple of pumps as he mumbled out questions, “Fuck, why do I have to get so hard? Why won’t it go away?”

‘Jesus, fucking, Christ,’ was the only thing you could think. You were watching your best friend touch himself, bare. And it wasn’t taking you much before you were struggling right alongside him. The front of your pants tightening and a bulge poking through the fabric.

He noticed your presence once he adjusted to fucking his hand and took a minute to process, his dark blue eyes slowly widening as he stared back at you. You didn’t say anything, choked up by anxiety. Leaving the two of you to stand in silence, waiting for either one of you to break it.

Megumi covered himself with the sweater resting on the desk near him, eventually speaking up while trying to shake off the shock of being caught, “How long have you been standing there?” A red hue spread across both yours and his cheeks as you struggled to make eye contact. How come he had the ability to be so direct even during something like this? It was a quality that you liked, regardless.

You answered him in a quiet voice, “It’s been a couple of minutes…” Lowering your head out of embarrassment but not looking away entirely. You had just enough access to see what he was doing. And in that peripheral vision, you saw his attention flicker downwards.

Quickly, you hid your hard-on with your hands. Although, Megumi knew exactly what that gesture meant so it wasn’t successful. You could tell from the way his eyebrows switched from furrowed to raised like he was surprised. Then how more silence followed.

Not a single chance in hell were you going to look directly at him again, not when he was staring you down like this. You were hoping, praying to god that he wouldn’t point fingers despite not believing in that which meant you knew you were screwed. Was your friendship finally going to end here? What did this mean for the rest of the friends that are connected to you both? Panic was settling in the more he let you stand there.

“Can you close the door? I want to talk to you,” he asked bluntly after what felt like forever and honestly, that made your fear worse. “Please don’t say we can’t be friends because of this,” you interjected before he said anything else and closed the door like he suggested.

Fushiguro laughed through his nose and grumbled as if he was offended that you thought that, “Why would I want to end our friendship because you caught me jerking off, [F/N]?” Hearing him say it so casual made you get the comfortability to look at him again, seeing that he was picking up his clothes and acting like nothing happened.

He let you watch him get dressed, his back facing you the entire time, but you got the whole show. How he snapped his boxers around his waist, the indents in his back as well as the scars, and how his hair sprung back up into the spiky hairstyle he loved to style it in after he pulled his shirt over his head. You didn’t mean to stare, but it was really hard not to when you secretly admitted the feelings you have to yourself. And you just saw him masturbating. You saw his…

Not trying to finish that sentence in your head, you moved on by walking over to an outlet in what appeared to be an old classroom and kneeled down next to it to plug in the charger you brought. Thank god, you have an excuse now.

Awkwardly snapping it inside of the lightning port of your phone, you left it resting on a windowsill and turned to face Megumi. He was back in the outfit you had given him for his birthday. A cerulean sleeveless top with black Nike sweatpants. It was simple, yet he made it look like gold.

“Are you going to answer or are you going to keep checking me out?” He tilted his head, those wolf-shaped eyes of his burrowing into yours and making you unable to pry them away.

Your breath caught in your throat and all at once, thoughts became jumbled and you couldn’t figure out a thing to respond with. He was acting so careless just a second ago but now, he was flat out telling you that he knew what you were doing. What was going on?

Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you liked what you saw. Your dick’s been rock solid this whole time.” He nodded his head toward your lower half, causing you to choke on your spit, and sputter, “What? No! No! I’m just drunk…” You struggled to breathe and had to hit your chest to help yourself. Hopefully, this excuse will hold up.

But, it didn’t. The ravenette began to walk towards you, his abyssal blue orbs never leaving yours once while you froze there. Until he was right in front of your face and glancing at your lips. “That’s convenient. I’m a little tipsy myself…” he said softly, looking back up through his long eyelashes.

God, he was so beautiful. You were beginning to fall for his tricks already. But, you didn’t care about how fast you went for it, you cared about the fact he was showing interest.

The pretty boy pushed forward, his hands placing themselves on either side of your head as his nose connected with yours. Your breathing escalated. This was happening. It was happening. He was going to kiss you.

Your eyelids fluttered shut while both of your lips locked with one another. His lips softer than a cloud and the pressure enough to relieve the tension in you. You had been waiting for this for so long. The tugging between his mouth and yours. When his teeth pressed into your bottom lip or how his lashes brushed against your skin. He tasted like Sake and somewhat bitterly sweet like dark caramel. It was worth every ounce of waiting. Every bit.

His hair brushed with yours and the palm of his hand reached up to cup your cheek, moving it to the back of your neck over time. At some point, he needed to pull away for air and as he did, the two of you were back to locking eyes.

The way Megumi was staring at you gave you chills. It was like pure lust clouded over his expression. He was giving you that ‘fuck me’ look so obviously that it made your knees slightly buckle. To follow up with that, he went straight to the point by sliding down one of his hands to your bulge and groping it. His voice smooth like whiskey when adding, “Can I take these off?”

You melted like butter in his hands, instinctively bucking your hips into him and groaning with a nod. It was crazy how bad you wanted this. The damp spot of pre-cum on your boxers getting bigger and bigger the evidence of that.

Fushiguro unbuttoned and unzipped your pants easily, hooking his fingers in the loops to pull them down to your knees. He kissed your cheek and the side of your jaw while continuing down with them until he was at your neck, searching for a secret sweet spot.

Moans cascaded out of you bit by bit during his exploration, getting sharper around an area he kept brushing past. When he figured out where it was, he suckled on the skin and abused it enough to where a huge hickey rested there. He got your boxers off as well and the moment his fingers touched you, your hand grabbed his wrist and tightened.

“Fuck! Wait! I haven’t done this with anybody else before! This is a lot to take in,” you exclaimed, panting and looking down at the sight of your naked bottom half right next to his covered hard one. Sort of wishing that he didn’t put his clothes back on.

Megumi didn’t seem to be phased by that. Instead, he figured out what you were looking at and got to stripping them off too. Once he was in nothing, he gave a soft smile and reassured, “It’s okay, [F/N]. You can trust me with this. I just… I really need to do this with you.” It worked and made you relax your muscles, getting closer to him unconsciously.

Then he leaned forward and pressed his tip against yours, wrapping his big, rough hand around them before spitting on it. Pumping it up and down, matching the pace he was going for himself earlier, and using the same hand now that you mentioned it. Your head rested back into the wall as you grunted out what you were thinking impulsively, “Fuck, daddy.!” You weren’t trying to say it, you just did. Outing a kink to him that you swore no one would hear a single peep about. That was what you get for attempting something slightly not-safe-for-work with a guy you’ve had freaky dreams about.

You scanned his face for any small detail of him feeling disgusted, weirded out, all of the above; you found none of that. Rather, he was seemingly in awe from how his mouth parted. It shifted into him giving a small smirk, letting out the most sexually frustrated voice you’ve heard yet in a whisper, “Keep calling me that… And don’t you ever fucking stop.”

Shuddering, you were letting more and more noises go that you didn’t know you could make and he was savoring every single one. Moaning along with you, fucking his cock against yours, and smearing his pre-cum over the both of you like it was lube.

The sorcerer got impatient. He needed something better than this. He knew what he wanted, the idea felt so right to him, he couldn’t suppress the urge to. You were right there, perfectly laid out.

Fushiguro guided himself down, using one of his hands to grab your thigh and move you to the desk. You placed both of your palms behind you to support yourself, just as ready as he was, maybe even more. With a rush of dopamine, you got the courage to dirty talk back, “Please… I want you… Daddy.” The nickname was hesitated on, but that was because this was all so new to you. How could he be so comfortable with this?

As low as it was, Megumi was pleased with the request and bit his lip at the sight of you spreading your legs below him. He never would’ve thought he would get you like this and fuck, he wasn’t complaining. Hell, he felt lucky.

He positioned himself against you, but teased by rubbing in circles. Making sure that you were wet enough for him to slide in with no issue. That proved helpful as his dick inched inside soon after, easing all of it until he could feel himself so deep that it was close to your stomach. You were gripping onto his arms, one on his bicep, the other on his forearm. Squeezing harder than you ever had.

It hurt so fucking bad. Like he was ripping you apart and forcing your body to succumb to him. Tears brimmed your eyes and he noticed it, stopping and keeping himself there so you could adjust. ‘Fuck’, he mentally cursed to himself, ‘It’s his first… I’m his first.’ A part of him got excited repeating that, proud of it. “Shit, sorry… I’m sorry, baby… Tell me when you’re okay…” Megumi rambled while placing a tiny kiss on your lips to make up for the pain. Never fucking a guy had its drawbacks.

Eventually, you got used to the fullness and it eased away into the pleasure you’ve heard so many things about. You gave him the go by nodding and tightened your grip to get yourself ready. A shocked gasp jumped out when he did the first thrust. It felt amazing. Too amazing.

You begged for more, “Please, faster. I want it. I want you to destroy me…” Losing yourself to the feeling of his huge dick fucking in and out of you, your cries got louder and desperate. Especially when his hand went to wrapping around your shaft to stimulate you even further. The pumping, the ramming, and his growls from his own enjoyment with your body all crashed down onto you.

Your edge was nearing, rushing at you with full speed, and coming closer by the minute as Megumi buried himself to where you could feel his tip poking out of your stomach. You cried out in pleasure, “Gumi! Fuck! You’re too deep…!” Arching your back and rolling your eyes, your dick started to twitch.

He chuckled and went faster with his hand, pumping the cum out of you basically and letting it explode onto your chest. It covered the majority of your lower half and dripped down as he continued to ram you into the desk. More sputtering out while he was fucking the high out of you. Your eyes were lazily closing, your mind becoming numb and dumb from the overstimulation.

Moans were blending together as your body threw a fit, digging your nails into any skin you could. He held you tightly there so you wouldn’t escape, doing you so hard now that it was sounding like everything was going to collapse underneath you.

Fushiguro praised you throughout this as an apology, “God, you feel so good… I can feel you holding me there inside… Like you want me to fucking breed you, [Y/N]..!”

That sent another orgasm over you and caused your cum to spill everywhere again, your legs sticky with it at this point. But, he kept going. He was so close. Right there.

The raven-haired man clawed at the edges of the desk when he was reaching cloud nine, thrusting in hard and passionate. He made sure to fuck his seed inside of you until it was like you were being bred by him. You knew you couldn’t conceive, but it sure as hell would be the case if you could. His muscles stopped tensing the moment he was done and he let out a satisfied sigh that was rare to hear, “If I knew sex with you was going to be that good, I would’ve made you my boyfriend sooner.”

With a peck on the forehead, he pulled out of you and let you catch your breath. ‘Boyfriend? He called me his boyfriend?’ that was all that could repeat in your mind as he walked over to where your clothes were scattered to clean. When everything was put away and he wiped up most of what he could off of the both of you, Megumi decided to have you come home with him. Walking out of the classroom together, he excitedly chimed, “Thanks for the birthday present, [F/N]!”

#megumi fushiguro #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #megumi x male reader #megumi fushiguro x male reader #male reader #smut prompts #dom megumi #sub male reader #megumi gets the title daddy?!?!?

[earlgreydream]

gods, I’m so sorry. this has been in my drafts since APRIL 2023…. I’m finally getting to it, thanks so much for this sweet request ♥️

requested: bucky needing to have a hand on you (stroking ur hair, hand on ur knee, etc) at all times after he nearly loses u 🥺 to reassure u that ure safe and he's there but mostly to reassure himself

The silence was deafening, and it was so dark. Had it always been this way? James couldn’t remember. The Brooklyn apartment didn’t feel like a home anymore. It was empty without you, your absence ripping the essence of life from his home.

He sighed, not bothering to turn on the light. James didn’t have any intention to stay, the emptiness held an eerie feeling that he just couldn’t shake. He almost forgot what he’d gone home for — to get a change of clothes before heading back to the Tower, to wait for you.

James felt like he should have been out looking. You’d been missing for weeks — disappearing on a mission with Sam, to gather intel. There wasn’t supposed to be any real danger, he would never have let you go if he was worried about a threat to your safety.

“We need to go back, they found her,” Steve’s voice cut through the silence, and Bucky’s heart seized at his words.

“Is she alive?”

.

The first thing your mind registered was pain. There was a dull, heavy throbbing in every part of your body. When you tried to open your eyes, everything was too bright, and a terrible beeping worsened your splitting headache.

You blinked away the fog in your vision, a hospital room slowly coming into focus. James stood up from a chair in the corner and ran to your side, speaking frantically. You couldn’t understand him, it sounded like his voice was underwater, unclear and garbled.

Panic surged through your chest when you looked down to see an IV in your arm, and you registered the tubes on your face that were meant to help you breathe. You clawed at the IV in your arm, nails scratching your skin as you attempted to rip the needle out.

“Stop, please, baby,” James begged, grabbing your wrist to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself.

“James?” You rasped, the fear in your voice breaking his heart.

“I’m here. You’re safe, you’re in the hospital at Stark Tower. Nothing can hurt you anymore,” he promised, the words sounding clearer in your head this time.

Your chest heaved and tears started to leak down your cheeks, whimpering as a nurse emptied a sedative into your system.

James held your hand, so the nurse didn’t cuff your wrists to the bed. Your memory was foggy, but your body remembered what you’d been through — your heart rate monitor beginning to scream as the nurse talked about restraining you.

“Get out. Just get out!” James shouted, one of the few times you’d ever seen him with tears running down his face.

You began to fade as the sedative kicked in, the room quieting once it was just you and James. He listened to your shallow breathing, gently rubbing his thumb across your forearm, needing to touch you as he sat next to the bed. He had to have his hands on you, to remind himself you were there, safe.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged softly, your trembling hand laying over his.

“I won’t leave you, I promise… just get some rest, okay?” He kissed your knuckles, gazing at you with wet blue eyes.

.

“I can stay with her, so you can go home, change, sleep in your own bed?” Steve offered, coming in while you were asleep.

“I'm not leaving,” James murmured, barely looking up at his best friend.

“Has she told you anything about what happened?” Steve took a seat on the other side of your bed, an action that James was grateful for, even if he didn’t say so.

“No. She’s barely coherent, they’ve got her on some pretty intense medication…. Steve, she’s in rough shape. How was she when you found her?”

James was afraid to ask, but had to know. Steve shifted his weight, looking down at the floor before finally looking back at your sleeping form, bruised and battered.

"Bad, James. Hydra had her tied up, suspended from the ceiling."

James rubbed his fingers over the raw, red rings around your wrists from the restraints, stopping as you winced in your sleep.

You opened your eyes, looking over at him, reaching out to trail your fingertips over the scruff on his cheek.

"Steve, thank you," you spoke hoarsely, turning to the blond who stood at the end of the hospital bed.

"Of course. How are you feeling?" he approached and gently took your outstretched hand.

"Everything hurts," you groaned, shaking as you tried to sit up.

"Here," James helped you, supporting your weight as you settled into a seated position.

.

Two weeks later, you'd recovered enough to be discharged.

"I don't want to stay at the tower, I want to go home," you insisted to James, anxious to be back in the shared Brooklyn apartment.

You held his hand as he drove you to the brownstone, flinching at car horns and loud noises. As much as you ached to be home, the trauma still exhausted your nervous system, and kept James on edge.

Your friends had been kind enough to clean your place for you, warm and smelling of the dinner that was in the oven, waiting for you and James. He followed you to the kitchen, smiling softly as you eagerly dug into the first real food you’d got since your return.

Despite have the whole table to yourself, you sat on Bucky’s knee as you ate, his arm around your waist. He was quieter than usual, his face pressed into your shoulder, needing to be as close as possible. He was unable to let you go, afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

.

Later that night, Bucky sat on the edge of the tub, helping rinse your hair. He had all but gotten in the water with you, his sleeves rolled up as he tenderly washed your skin. Candles flickered on the counters, dimly lighting the fragrant room.

“I’m okay,” you whispered to James, your hand going to his jaw as he kissed you. His lips were soft against yours, parting just enough to catch your small gasp. You chased his mouth when he pulled away, only briefly satisfied as he planted another firm kiss to your lips. He stood to get you a towel, wrapping you up as you rose from the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” he urged, unable to hide his anxiety.

“You won’t sleep,” you accused, knowing he’d be up all night, just as he had for days.

“We can put on a movie. I just need to hold you,” his big eyes were framed by dark lashes, eyes that were impossible to say no to.

You slipped into one of his tee shirts before following him, letting yourself snuggle against his side, his arms tightly wrapping around your middle. The rhythm of his heartbeat and soft sounds of the television lulled you to sleep, resting safely in his embrace.

#Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky imagine

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N

Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.

Master List

Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage. 

For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier. 

Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not. 

Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.

“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call. 

“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”

“Exhausted.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Pretty late.”

“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?” 

“We’re all good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.

“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.” 

“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.” 

“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.” 

“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”

“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit. 

“Bobby.”

“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest. 

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”

“I will. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end. 

“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”

“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”

“Bye, Bobby.”

Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked. 

It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up. 

~~~~~

Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier. 

“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”

“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look. 

“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back. 

“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up. 

“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now,  come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”

~~~~~

“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?” 

Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas. 

“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”

You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out. 

“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. “Is that the cafeteria?”

“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile. 

“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet. 

Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on. 

Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!”

“He came from the video!”

“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth. 

“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”

“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”

“What are you . . .”

You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.

“Will you marry me, Honey?”

“Say ‘yes’!”

“You have to say ‘yes’!”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.

He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him. 

As if that was even possible. 

School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby. 

“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you. 

“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”

“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bob x reader #bob fluff #bob floyd #bob #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x you #bob x you #bob floyd x you

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ Feyd's Blade 🗡️ - Part I (Snippet) - See you in my nightmares

Plot: "Feyd Rautha is psychotic", What if you were betrothed to that psychopath as an infant while he was only a boy before the psycopathy. What if the betrothal was forged by your fathers, both of whom are now dead? What if no one told you of the betrothal? What if you've only heard about it in whispers? What if Feyd Rautha Harkonnen is set to marry the Princess according to your Bene Gesserit order? What if the only thing that brings the unbalanced Harkonnen heir peace is the memory of holding you in his arms as a small boy during the betrothal commitment ceremony where he'd promised to keep you safe above all else? What if you've been having visions of the malevolent cruel figure? What if he's been searching the galaxy for you?

“Another one?” Your best friend and fellow Bene sister asks as you wake in another cold sweat. Nodding you sit up in bed blinking through the darkness. Leia lights the lamp and a yellow glow shines into both of your faces. The first vision was a decade ago, you had been sleeping under the stars. Pale skin and a bald head. A large brute of a man killed another. Then there was a boy clearly terrified but shaking with anger too. Black eyes, black teeth, pale skin, a temper. Year after year the visions became angrier, more psychopathic. Handing you your materials Leia climbs into bed beside you and you begin your account of the vision.

“Will you tell the reverend mother?” She asks.

“Not yet” you confess ordering your thoughts and placing the coded message on the scroll. Leia watches in silence. This vision was in a black room probably on Geidi Prime. You were asleep on a larger black bed with four posts. You were asleep only to wake up to the black eyes staring down at you. He’d never spoken before but he’d said two words in the strangest grittiest voice. “You’re mine” unlike all the other dreams you felt him in the bed, felt the friction of him coming closer, felt his breath on your skin, the heat coming from his body.

“Are you alright?” Leia asks, handing me a glass of water.

“No” you confess as the two words haunt you. There’ve been all kinds of visions. Brutal murders, sick torture, murderous games with concubines, moments of tyrannical rage and now. Now he’d come for you. Stepping out of the bed you find solace in the coolness of the stone on your feet. Leia follows and you search your things for the herbs that dull your senses. It’s a necessity for sleep and reprieve. Since childhood you’d been careful not to share but as you’ve grown it’s only become clearer and clearer the subject of your dreams. He was tall, strong, angry, well off, psychotic and some would say handsome. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron and your original betrothed.

“What is it?” Leia asks.

“He’s coming for me mother must teach me the way” you say against your training with fear and foreboding.

PART I

Thanks for reading, 🩶 if you enjoy please leave a comment to let me know if i should continue with this concept 🩶

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd x you #feyd x reader #feyd oneshot #austin butler imagine #black authors #feyd x black reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x black reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you

[beardedjoel]

butt dial | a pretty little wife mini chapter

joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: 2.3k words; you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things. warnings: 18+ MDNI, no apocalypse au, pre-established sub/dom relationship/dynamic, dirty talk, pet names for reader, joel says some dirty ass shit about pretty wife, allusions to smut at the end a/n: just a short little ditty inspired by this ask - you're an absolute saint for putting this idea in my head it had me kicking and giggling my feet to think about and write. enjoy!!!

You sigh, leaning back on the couch and curling up a bit more. The blanket draped over you has fallen, so you tug it up a bit and snuggle your arms underneath the plush fabric. It still carries a lingering scent of Joel and you happily breathe it in as you train your eyes on the screen. You’ve put on a mushy romance film, the type Joel doesn’t typically jump at watching with you. It’s not that he won’t, because one look from your desperate eyes will have him rolling his and turning the movie you’ve requested on, anyways. But a man has his limits, and he’s said no more than one of that genre every few months.

Joel is out tonight with Tommy, grabbing drinks to fulfill their monthly tradition. They often have a beer at yours and Joel’s place, or go out for just one after work, maybe, but once a month they have a full-on night out. You encourage it, wanting Joel to stay close with his brother. You never had such a close relationship with your family like he does with his brother, and you know their tough upbringing drew them together. 

You also don’t mind having the house to yourself for the evening, you think with a wry smile, basking in the quiet comfort and being able to pick whatever form of entertainment without your well meaning husband griping about it. You’ve got on one of the newest rom-coms you’d noticed on Netflix the other day, and have a lazy smile as you watch, feeling fully content. You’d made a hearty batch of fried rice for dinner, leaving a plate made up in case Joel came home drunk and starving (he always did). 

A sudden trilling tone interrupts your daze, and you pause the movie and sit up to see your phone lit up and ringing. Joel’s name flashes on the screen, along with a photo of the two of you together, taken on a sunny day when you went hiking. It makes you smile briefly before worry settles in, wondering why he’s calling right now. It makes your stomach sink a bit, hoping he’s not gotten into trouble, or worse, hurt. You scramble to answer, your fingers fumbling with the buttons until you pull it to your ear, your breath hitching as you try to swallow and get the words out.

“H-hello?” you say quickly into the receiver, clutching it close to your ear. You hear a staticky sound, loud and grating as the call finally comes in. You yank it back from your ear, your brows knitting together in confusion. The sounds become a little clearer as you listen closer, and you can hear the buzz of multiple, overlapping conversations and music. You breathe out in relief as you realize Joel is okay, and nearly laugh at how worked up you got in the first place. Your mind just goes to that terrified place, wondering how the hell you’d ever live if something happened to him.

You almost hang up, smiling with the burst of relief when you catch the tail end of something Joel is saying. You know this was an accidental butt dial, and you really should hang up, but after your scare, you want to hear your husbands safe, comforting voice… just for a second. Just  a second, and then you’ll hang up, give him his privacy. 

You press the phone close to your ear, trying to make it out. You hear the distinct sound of both of the boys’ laughter, Joel and Tommy, and you can tell just from that noise that they’re well into their drinking for the night. It’s a lighthearted, deep laugh, one that he doesn’t do very often. It makes you smile and you sigh a little, putting your chin in your hand.

“-and then I fell right down, right there on the damn street… Theresa was pissed, lemme tell you…” you hear Tommy’s voice slurring out, a little distant but still clear enough to make out. Joel howls with laughter and you can picture him, trying not to choke on his sip of beer, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

“Fuckinhellbrother,” Joel slurs, like it’s one full word.

“I know, I know. Your missus is lucky she ain’t out with us right now,” Tommy replies.

“She’d sure as hell be laughin’ at our asses, if ‘m honest.”

Your eyes widen at the mention of you. You feel a twinge of guilt press on you but you can’t find it in yourself to hang up just yet. You just want to hear a little bit more… you think devilishly to yourself.

“What’s she up to tonight? Probably sittin’ at home missin’ you,” Tommy teases his brother.

Joel chuckles. “Guarantee she loves it, probably got one of her sappy little movies on. Silly fuckin’ girl...” You smile at how well he knows you and press the phone a little closer.

“C’mon, know you watch ‘em with her, too,” Tommy slurs a bit.

“Can’t say no to a face like that… and a mouth like that…” Joel says boldly. You feel your eyes go wide and you hold back a gasp. You feel your cheeks starting to burn a little to hear the way Joel’s being so open with his brother, the implication behind his words heavy with innuendo.

“Chriiiiist, here wegoagain,” Tommy says quickly, slurring. You furrow your brow, picking up on the fact that Tommy has heard Joel talking like this before, like it’s completely normal for them. You start to feel a pleasant little swirl deep in your gut at the fact that Joel brags about those particular abilities of yours.

You think you hear them both chuckle a little bit. “Know I can’t help m’self Tommy. Fuckin’ body of an angel, mouth of a fuckin’ devil, lord. Could go on about it f’days.”

Tommy seems quiet for a moment, just listening. “You always brag too much, brother. ‘Sides, she says nothin’ but sweet things and you know it. Nicest little gal around.”

“Who said anything about the things she’s saying?” Joel quips back. 

“Fuckin’ hell. Yeah, I get it, your wife gives good head, yeah?” Tommy snips, but it sounds more playful than angry to you. 

You can picture your husband, face flushed from the alcohol and hair a little messy, leaning forward and grinning in that devilish way. “Suckin cocks’s not the only thing she’s good at. Practically everything, really, but lord does that woman know how to do just what I want. She’s a real good listener, my girl.” Your thighs clench together and you feel your breathing hitch. Just Joel basically calling you a good girl from afar has you feeling like an animal in heat all of a sudden. You throw the blanket off as you feel your body starting to warm up and a soft smile comes to your face. 

You hear silence from Tommy’s end, maybe too stunned to speak, clearly giving Joel permission to keep going.

“Y’know the best part? I got her listenin’ so good, she’ll do just about anythin’. Let me fuck her whenver I needta, you get me?”

“Christ Jesus, Joel, whatever the hell was in this fuckin’ beer got you too open tonight…”

“Can’t a man brag about his wife without gettin’ hounded? Jus’ wanted to share a lil love for my sweet gal.”

“Alright, alright, but shut the hell up now,” Tommy says with a howl of laughter, and the phone goes a little quieter, assuming Joel adjusted in his seat. 

“Jealous, jealous…” Joel taunts. 

“Shut. It. Or we’re gonna have a real bar fight on our hands here,” Tommy threatens teasingly. Their words continue to jumble a bit, and you can tell they’re both reaching close to their limit on beer and liquor for the evening. 

“Oh, fine,” Joel finally says, vowing to get off the topic. 

You feel a surge of pride that you witnessed something so special, so pure, despite the filthy things he was saying about the two of you. It just felt like pure love and adoration, even when you weren’t in the room to hear it. It makes your heart skip a little bit to know that Joel talks so highly of you even when he isn’t around you, going so far as to brag about such intimate things with his brother. You know it was lewd, but it made you feel that warm feeling you get whenever Joel shows you off in any way.

Lost deep in thought, you’ve already started to tune out their next batch of teasing and laughter as they move on to a new topic, so you decide to hang up the phone and let them get on with their night. 

You feel a lingering pride to be Joel’s wife sticking with you as you when you go back to watching the movie. Your heart feels so light and free right now, and you find yourself yearning for him to come home just so you can unload some of this love onto him as it bubbles up inside of you. 

Another hour and a half later, you hear keys jingling outside the door before the lock clicks and the front door swings open clumsily. Joel spots you instantly, curled up on the couch with a wide smile as soon as your eyes flick over to him. You sit up and stretch a little, taking in the full, broad form of him fumbling about as he walks in.

“Oh, hello there,” he says in a low, goofy voice. He stumbles in a little, a goofy smile on his face as he tries to take off his shoes. 

“Feelin’ good, handsome?” you tease him, trying not to laugh at how absolutely adorable your husband is when he’s a little drunk.

“Better ‘n good, now. Home with my pretty girl…” he coos. You stand up, bounding over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close as quickly as you can. 

“Oh,” he puffs out as you practically slam into his chest. One hand immediately wraps around your waist, drawing you closer, the heat of his hand burning through your thin tee shirt, and the other splays across the back of your head, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You moan quietly, a little desperate mewl climbing its way out of your throat as his lips devour you. You can taste his evening - beers and liquor and… a cigar? You should chastise him for that one, you think, but you know Tommy can be a bad influence so you let it slide in lieu of some more kisses from him. You deepen it and slide your tongue into his mouth, and he happily returns it, tongues skimming each other for a few moments before you pull back, gently biting his bottom lip on the way.

“Hell, what’d a guy do to deserve a kiss like that, hm?” Joel muses, a little tipsy sounding. His hand comes around your head to stroke your cheek, thumb lingering as he traces down the soft skin there.

“Just wanted to show you all the things I’m good at, since that’s what you said, right?” you tease him, knowing he likely won’t even be able to piece in together in his current state.

Joel’s face scrunches up a bit, his brows drawing together as he tries to wrack his hazy brain for any clue of what you’re referring to.

“Not just good for ‘suckin’ cock’?” you say, your voice low, a furtive little whisper right near his ear. You peel back a bit to see his eyes widen a little, more confused than ever.

“Wh-”

“Butt dial, darling,” you tell him, pecking his cheek.

Joel laughs, a nervous yet comfortable laugh, able to read you well enough to know you aren’t upset about what he said, just amused. His laugh turns to a low chuckle, a little mischievous glint in his eye. His hand slides down from the small of your back to you ass, giving it a gentle, swift pat.

 “And aren’t you a naughty girl for listenin’ in on my private conversation, hm?” he teases, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Couldn’t help myself, had to hear what my husband really thinks of me.” You move your lips the slightest bit, brushing against his in a soft touch. “Good thing it’s not anything I didn’t already know…” You pull back suddenly, giving him a wink and putting a little space between the two of you.

“In that kind of mood tonight, are we, doll? Little bit bratty?” Joel asks with raised brows. “Gonna have to make you prove to me everything I told Tommy is true then, aren’t I?” Joel’s eyes go hungrier, a deep, feral need growing in his core and showing up right in his dark irises.

You shrug and turn to walk away, but Joel grabs onto your wrist, spinning you back against him. “Nuh uh, not so fast. You’re comin’ with me, darlin’” he spits out. In a split second his arms are on either side of your waist, hoisting you up and then tossing you over his shoulder so that your head is hanging down his back.

“H-hey!” You giggle, swinging your feet to try and get down, knowing it’s no use, and if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to escape, of course. Not from a hold this good.

Joel’s hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard as he carries you towards the stairs. “Now let’s go and you can tell me all about everything you heard me sayin’ tonight.”

You smile wide, feeling your mind and body already buzzing for your husband and all the things he seemed to have in store for you. It was going to be a fun night, indeed.

plw taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere @paleidiot @saverockandroll54 @daddy-din

#LOVED THIS SO MUCHHH #fucking sexy little cuties #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

[weemssapphic]

hii, could i request a fic with reader and handsy drunk larissa?? they have a crush on each-other but they won’t admit it until one night where larissa calls reader in her office for a glass of wine and became too drunk, this leads them to a make-out session and sex with some after care. if you want can you add some comfort for larissa who has old wounds from old lovers that comes up at the end?

hey feel free to change what you want, it’s completely fine if you don’t want to do it or you are not comfortable with it!! i hope you have a wonderful day!! <3 (sorry for my english!!) i’m sorry i don’t know how to do a request 😭

:)

hi bestie!!! this fic has been a LONG time coming and i'm absolutely just as feral about it as i was the first time we talked about it. hope you enjoy, love 🥺

taking a chance

Larissa Weems x shapeshifter!reader

words: ~8.5k

content/warnings: smut (minors dni pls), g!p (reader is a shapeshifter), virgin!larissa, drunk sex, nipple play, cunnilingus

Platinum curls catch the sunlight that follows the curve of a high cheekbone and a defined jawline. The same golden rays glint in deep, sapphire eyes, making them shine clearer and brighter. Ruby red lips curl into a smile around brilliantly white teeth, parting as the principal addresses the crowd of students and teachers with passion and enthusiasm.

You can see her warm breath slightly against the chilly fall air, her cheeks and the tip of her nose turning ever so slightly rosy with the cold - it makes her even more beautiful, if that’s at all possible, and you’re certain that you’re gaping at her with a dreamy expression on your face but you’re helpless to stop yourself.

Sometimes, being in her presence causes you to hang onto her every word, memorizing every syllable and the way it tumbles from her painted lips. At other times, you’re lucky to even catch a gist of what she’s saying, far too busy admiring her beauty and daydreaming about a life where you might just have a chance with this stunning goddess. Today seems like the latter kind of day.

Principal Weems - Larissa - pauses her speech and scans the crowd. As her gaze lands on you, she offers you a closed-lip smile - almost shy in its nature. You accept the offering, you’d be stupid not to, beaming back with a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. She winks in your direction before turning her attention elsewhere and resuming her speech as if nothing had happened. How she can move on from that moment so easily, you can hardly fathom - you’re rooted to the spot, your heart beating against the constraints of your rib cage, your mind replaying the wink over and over again. 

After the speech is over and the students and faculty have begun to disperse, chatting amongst themselves in small groups or hurrying to get out of the quad and back into the warmth of Nevermore’s rooms, you expect Larissa to head back to her office. What you don’t expect is to feel a gloved hand on your shoulder, long fingers giving you a surprisingly gentle squeeze.

“Principal Weems,” you manage to say, your voice only slightly breathy as you turn your head and realize that her face is a lot closer than you were expecting.

“Darling,” she says with a chuckle. “You’ve been at Nevermore for almost a year now, you’ve more than earned the right to call me Larissa.” Her cheeks grow even rosier as she talks to you - from the cold, probably, you think.

“Larissa,” you concede with a soft smile, your blush matching her own - definitely due to the wind nipping at your own skin. “What can I do for you?”

“I was actually wondering if you’d like to join me in my office this evening for a glass of wine.”

Your heart skips a beat, your smile growing in spite of yourself. “What’s the occasion?”

“We haven’t had much opportunity to get to know each other one-on-one this year - I’d like to change that.” Larissa looks almost nervous as she explains herself, but you shake it off - she couldn’t possibly be nervous asking you to join her for a drink. If anything, it’s the other way around - not that you’d ever admit that out loud. You’re sure your boss wouldn’t appreciate you openly crushing on her, and you want to remain professional.

“I’d love to, Larissa.” The name feels foreign on your tongue, but you could definitely get used to it. “What time were you thinking?”

The principal’s returning smile is bright - it melts your heart with its sincerity. “Does 7 o’clock suit you?”

~~~

That’s how you find yourself pacing anxiously in front of the door to Larissa’s office at 3 minutes to 7, not wanting to appear too eager - the decision on whether or not to knock already, however, is taken from you when the door creaks open, startling you and causing you to freeze in place as Larissa pokes her head into the hall.

“Principal Weems.” You hope you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, and you slide your hands into your pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Larissa,” she scolds playfully, stepping aside to let you into her office and closing the door behind you.

“Sorry. Larissa.” You like how the name rolls off your tongue - it makes you smile, and it appears to have the same effect on the principal. “How did you know I was already here?”

Larissa smirks - you could swear she’s giving you a once-over, her gaze sweeping your form, but she’s so quick about it that you wonder whether or not your brain is playing tricks on you. “I heard you pacing.”

You flush instantly, dropping your eyes to the floorboards in embarrassment. “Keen hearing,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but it gets a laugh out of the blonde - you glance up to see her grinning at you, which only makes you blush harder. 

To your relief, she’s turned just as red as you have, a fact that she seems eager to distract you from. “Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the sofa in front of the roaring fire as she walks in the opposite direction, fetching a bottle of red and glasses from a small cabinet in the corner of her office.

The room is cozy, you think, as you sit on one end of the sofa, basking in your surroundings. Of course you’ve been in here plenty of times before, but never in such an intimate context - it’s always been business, never pleasure, and there’s never been time to properly admire how very Larissa the office is. 

The sofa dips beside you, the woman in question placing two glasses on the decorative coffee table in front of you and filling each with a bit of wine. You thank her, gingerly taking the stem of the glass between your fingers and raising it - Larissa does the same, smiling warmly as she clinks her glass against yours then takes a sip.

“I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable by inviting you here,” she says, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes follow her leg as she moves it, trailing down her calf as the firelight flickers against her pale skin - it’s both fascinating and arousing to you just how long her legs are, you’d love to get the chance to run your hands along her toned calves, rest them on her knees…

Fuck, you’re staring. You quickly look up to meet Larissa’s gaze, the only indication that she’s caught you staring is a faint blush on the apples of her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.” Shit, you’ve been caught. 

“Are you sure?” Larissa raises a thin, perfectly plucked eyebrow, and your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Biting your lip, you take a sip of wine to calm your nerves. “I’m not uncomfortable at all, I promise. It’s just weird being so casual with you - I mean, you are my boss, you know.” You giggle nervously and Larissa takes a large swig of her wine, nearly draining the glass in one go.

“I hope it becomes less weird for you, otherwise you’re free to leave at any time.” There’s a hint of hardness in Larissa’s voice, and you frown. 

“I’m actually really glad you invited me,” you try to reassure her quickly. “I think it’d be nice to get to know you, I’m just a bit awkward. It has nothing to do with you.” You offer her a shy smile - she seems to recognize its earnestness, and she smiles back, nodding in acknowledgment. 

Larissa seems to relax quite a bit after that - once the tension has subsided, conversation begins to flow freely (as does the alcohol). One of the things that had drawn you to Larissa in the first place was that you’d never worked with another shapeshifter before - even meeting other shapeshifters is rare. Your shared ability is a natural icebreaker - as you begin to talk about school and students and classes, you manage to open up to each other a bit about the struggles you’ve faced with your abilities. The conversation doesn’t stop there, and you delve into topics like media and art, books you’ve enjoyed (and ones you’ve detested) and music you have on repeat. 

Getting to know the woman behind the title of ‘principal’ only intensifies your feelings for her - with every new topic, you feel as though you’re peeling back another layer to who she is, revealing a softer Larissa, just as passionate but also weird and quirky and wonderful - just as wonderful as you’d imagined her to be, possibly more so, and you’re starting to realize this is more than just a mere crush.

As the evening wears on, a different kind of tension fills the room. With every minute, the distance between the two of you seems to get smaller and smaller - with every new topic, every new layer discovered, Larissa gets closer, until her knee is only a hair’s breadth from your own. You’re not sure if the heat flooding your body is from the fire, the alcohol, your own arousal, or maybe even Larissa’s body heat as a result of her close proximity - perhaps it’s a mixture of all 4, you think. 

Though it seems thinking has become a bit of a problem for you - how many glasses of wine have you had, you wonder, as Larissa pours you another one, each somehow fuller than the last. Glancing at the table, you realize the second bottle is half empty - right. She’d gotten a second bottle about an hour ago. 

Larissa seems to be faring no better than you - she’s a lot more giggly than you’ve ever seen her and, honestly, a lot more flirtatious. You may be more than a little tipsy but you’re certainly not hammered, and you’ve noticed her eyes traveling the length of your body more than once throughout the evening, often lingering near your cleavage for just a moment too long.

You’re telling a story about an annoying coworker from your previous job when Larissa sets down her wine glass, resting her elbow on her knee and propping her chin up with her hand, getting even closer to you in the process. She watches you with great interest, hanging onto your every word with her lips pulled up into an amused smile.

“I really hope your colleagues here aren’t nearly as incompetent,” she says with a chuckle, placing a hand on your thigh - you feel as though she may as well be burning a hole straight through your trousers. 

You find yourself giggling as you subtly shift closer to her. “Don’t worry, Riss.” The nickname slips out before you can stop yourself, but from the way Larissa’s lips part and her thumb begins to gently rub your inner thigh just above your kneecap, you don’t think she minds. “I think you were a lot more thorough during the hiring process than my old boss.”

“I definitely was.” Her voice drops an octave - heat pools in your core, and you feel your mouth go dry as Larissa’s gaze pierces your own, her eyelids hooded. You lick your lips, which suddenly feel dry as the Sahara.

“Tell me darling,” she husks. “Do I make you nervous?”

The sudden question does make you a little nervous - at a loss for words, you nod your head, and Larissa smirks in response. 

“I don’t mean to,” she coos, her hand remaining on your thigh as her other hand cups your cheek. Suddenly she’s right there, it would be so easy to just lean in and…

Larissa catches you staring at her lips and she parts them as she cocks her head - they look so soft and full, so incredibly inviting… 

You’re not sure who’s closed the gap, all you know is that your eyes have fluttered shut and that her lips feel even softer than they look. They’re warm, and they taste like lipstick and wine, and before you know it, you feel her tongue soothe over the seam of your lips as her fingers curl behind your ear. 

The groan that you let out when you part your lips and feel Larissa’s tongue slip inside of your mouth is so loud that you feel yourself blush. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, however - she licks into your mouth with an eagerness with which you’ve never been kissed before, flicking her tongue sensually against your own. You feel her smile into the kiss as she deepens it, her hand sliding to the back of your head and holding it in place.

Placing your hands on her waist, you slowly lean back and pull Larissa with you, until you’re on your back and she’s on top of you, her body weight pressing you down into the upholstery. It sends a prickling wave of heat throughout your entire being, every nerve-ending in your body seemingly alight as your head swims. 

Your hands slide lower until you’re palming her ass - Larissa moans into your mouth, and the sound jolts you back to reality for a moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you pant as you pull away to catch your breath, moving your hands back up to her waist, where they feel a bit safer. 

“I’m not.” Her boldness shocks you, and you meet her gaze only to see that her pupils are blown wide, filled with unfiltered desire. 

“You’re drunk…” You want it to sound firm yet gentle, and yet it comes out sounding more like a question.

“So are you,” she retorts, raising her eyebrow at you. Touché. “I want you.”

Any resolve you might’ve had had been torn down a few glasses of wine ago, and was now rapidly crumbling into dust. A whimper claws its way from your throat as Larissa’s hands find their way underneath your shirt, her palms warm and soft against your abdomen as she gently and ever so slowly pushes your shirt higher and higher, searching your face for consent. 

Fuck it. 

You help her make quick work of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. She fumbles a bit with the button of your trousers, her fingers moving clumsily - you giggle, attributing it to her inebriated state, and help her to remove them, sliding your underwear right down with them. 

You’re left only in your bra, something Larissa seems intent on changing as her fingers trace along the straps. You sit up a bit, allowing her to reach around your back and find the band with her hands.

“Fuck,” she mumbles as she struggles to unclasp your bra - you’ve never heard her curse before, and the word fills you with heat. 

“Let me help,” you whisper breathily, reaching behind yourself and swiftly undoing the clasp of your bra, allowing it to fall away from your body to reveal your bare chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath and Larissa’s eyes darken as they fall to your breasts. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, her cheeks flushing to a beautiful, rosy hue. She leans down to kiss you and your hands find her waist again, holding her close. 

Larissa’s lips soon leave your own, only to trail sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw, down your neck, onto your sternum. She pauses there for a moment, her breath hot against your skin. She slowly pulls back, looking into your eyes with a hint of a question swimming in her pupils. “Is it okay if I…” Her demeanor is suddenly a bit shyer, more timid and hesitant as the forceful dominance from before slips away like sand.

“If you…?” you try to encourage her, but then you see her gaze lingering on your tits. You smirk, arching your back so that your chest is on full display for Larissa - she licks her lips involuntarily as her cheeks flush even further. “You can do whatever you want with me,” you husk, feeling your heart skip a beat when Larissa’s pupils dilate. 

She hesitates for only a moment longer, before leaning in again. Her breath ghosts over your nipple, goosebumps rising on the flesh around it as you feel yourself begin to tremble with anticipation. A soft whimper escapes your throat as Larissa’s lips close around the sensitive bud, her tongue flicking against it. 

A hum vibrates against your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine as Larissa begins to suck eagerly, her hands coming to rest on your hips to steady herself as she loses herself in you, making muffled noises of pleasure against your breast.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you groan, growing wetter by the second as you watch her get carried away, her eyes closed in bliss. At the sound of your voice, her eyes fly open - she looks up at you with doe eyes, her irises barely visible around her black pupils, yet so very bright and blue that you could drown in them. There’s something about her soft gaze, the gorgeous flush to her cheeks, the wispy blonde curl that’s come loose near her temple - she looks so eager and innocent, so submissive that it sends a flood of warmth to your cunt, and you can feel your arousal wet your thighs as you press them together.

You bring a hand to the back of her head, gently scratching her scalp in encouragement. “Good girl,” you whisper softly, watching for a reaction. And what a reaction you get - Larissa’s cheeks redden, her eyes falling shut as she moans against your breast. 

As she switches sides, you allow your head to fall back against the armrest of the sofa - you’re surprised to find your own reflection staring back at you in the mirrored ceiling, your cheeks flushed and your jaw slack. Your chest and the lower half of your face are littered in deep red lipstick marks, some shaped perfectly like Larissa’s lips, others smudged messily across your skin like strokes on a canvas. Larissa’s canvas. 

The back of her head bobbing against your chest in the mirror turns you on beyond belief, but it feels tragically unfair that her body remains hidden to you, her silhouette masked by her dress. You look down at her, her brow furrowed as her painted lips wrap around your nipple, leaving smudged red stains on your skin. Gently easing your fingers into her updo, you pull her back by the hair a little - only a slight tug, just enough to stop her ministrations and have her look up at you, her expression dazed. 

You smile softly, pushing yourself up a bit and reaching for the belt of Larissa’s dress. “May I?”

She nods and you raise your eyebrow. “Use your words.” 

“Y-you may.” The words come out breathy as warmth floods Larissa’s cheeks, and she sits back to allow you to peel her dress from her body. One by one you remove her clothing, until every inch of her skin is bare before you. 

“Jesus, Larissa, you look like you’ve been sculpted by the Gods…” You’re in awe of her body; the womanly curve of her hips, the tantalizing swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach, those long, long legs. Her cheeks and chest turn red at your compliment and her smile is almost timid as she places one hand on her stomach, the other over her chest. 

You take her hands in your own, uncovering her body and interlacing your fingers with hers, stretching up to kiss her. She melts into the kiss, a soft moan escaping her lips, and you take the opportunity to place your hands on her waist, pushing yourself onto your knees and switching places with Larissa, guiding her onto her back.

She watches you intently, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Her lipstick is smudged around her mouth and up to her nose - it’s adorable, and it makes you want to kiss her senseless to mess it up even more, so you do. Larissa begins to let out soft noises of pleasure into your mouth as your tongues meet, and she protests when you pull away - she’s so needy that it makes you melt. 

“Can you do something for me?”

Larissa’s brows furrow as her chest heaves, her breathing short and heavy. She nods.

“I want you to watch yourself as I fuck you.” A confused stare is all you receive in return and you chuckle. “Look up, Riss.”

Her eyes leave your own as she tilts her head back and glances at the ceiling - a soft “oh” escapes her lips, and you can see her chest redden. With a satisfied smirk, you begin to place soft kisses to her chest, trailing your lips down her stomach as your hands busy themselves fondling her breasts. She seems to be sensitive there if her stuttering breath is anything to go by, and you’re pleased to pull a gasp out of her as you roll her nipples between your fingers, working the little buds into hard peaks. 

Your lips travel over the little patch of curls at her mound, then even lower. The scent of her arousal fills your nostrils and your mouth begins to water - your hands leave Larissa’s breasts to hook her leg over your shoulder and spread her thighs wider. She squirms a bit as your warm breath ghosts over her sex - you glance up to see her looking obediently up at the ceiling, biting her lip, her hands resting on her belly. 

“You can tell me to stop any time,” you remind her gently. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispers after a moment’s silence - your heart flutters.

“Be a good girl and play with your tits for me,” you say, your tone commanding. Her breath hitches and she hesitates for a moment, before fondling her own breasts, a breathy whimper leaving her lips as she tugs at her nipples.

Flattening your tongue, you lick a path up her slit - the moment your tongue makes contact with her cunt, Larissa’s hips buck into your mouth, twitching of their own accord. You take your time exploring her folds, even using your fingers to part her labia so that your tongue can indulge itself in every inch of her pussy. You alternate between teasing her entrance with the tip of your tongue and sucking her labia, getting even more drunk off the way her thighs tremble against your head and the way she rolls her hips, letting out frustrated whines as her clit is neglected. 

Finally, you lick your way up to the little bundle of nerves, wrapping your lips around it - the second you do so, Larissa cries out in relief and pleasure, her hips twitching. She begins to grind desperately against your mouth, every gentle suck seeming to send her into orbit as she finally gets the stimulation she’s been craving.

You glance up, arousal pooling in your core as you see the way Larissa’s fondling her breasts, her back arching and her head tilted back as she rubs her nipples. You flick your tongue against her clit and her mouth drops open, a steady stream of “ah, ah, ah’s” spilling out of her as the grinding of her hips becomes more erratic.

Her moans are cut off for a moment as your finger teases her slit, finding her entrance and pushing in with ease due to just how wet she is. She’s tight and her walls clench around your finger - you moan against her clit, a shiver of lust going down your spine as you slowly curl your finger into her sweet spot. 

“Think you can take another?” you husk, waiting for Larissa’s breathy “mmpf… y-yes” before pushing a second finger inside of her to join the first and slowly pumping them in and out. “Good girl…” Your mouth returns to her clit, lapping up her juices and smearing them around the sensitive nub.

You’re completely lost in pleasure, drunk not only on wine but on the taste, the scent, the feeling of Larissa on your tongue, against your fingers, consuming your every sense. Your eyes are closed in bliss as you work her to the edge - so you can’t help but jump a bit in surprise as you feel a pressure on your scalp. 

Opening your eyes, you find that Larissa’s hands have left her breasts in favor of cupping your head, her fingers weaving themselves tightly into your tresses. She pushes on your head, using you as leverage as she rolls her hips against your face - she’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t seem to realize she’s doing it, and it drives you wild. 

A few more flicks of your tongue against her clit are all Larissa needs to come undone - her moans are like music to your ears as she finds her release, her fingers tugging at your hair with a white-knuckled grip as her thighs snap shut around your head. You fuck her through her orgasm, not relenting a bit - you’re rewarded when she cums a second time shortly after, and this time you slowly pull your fingers out of her to hungrily lap up the juices that are leaking out of her.

Gently pushing her leg off your shoulder, you crawl up her body, eager to have her taste herself on your tongue. As you’re hovering over her, you can’t help but blurt out “you’re gorgeous” - because she really is, lying there panting, her chest pink and heaving, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body and collecting at her brow. A breathy giggle escapes her lips at your words, and her eyes are glazed over as she meets your gaze. You lean down to capture her lips in a kiss - Larissa instantly opens her mouth and flicks her tongue against yours, a whimper clawing its way out of her throat at the taste of her own arousal.

“You taste so fucking good,” you mumble into the kiss - Larissa whimpers again and deepens the kiss further, placing a hand on the back of your head and weaving her fingers into your hair to hold you in place.

The gentle tug of your hair makes a fresh wave of arousal pool between your thighs, and you find yourself searching for friction against your aching clit. Pressing against Larissa’s thigh, you tilt your hips - the relief you feel as your clit makes contact with Larissa’s skin is overwhelming, as is the desire to rut against her and use her to reach your peak. So you do.

Your slick drips onto Larissa’s thigh as you grind against it, your eyes rolling back in your head and your kisses turning sloppy as you chase your high. With the taste of Larissa still fresh on your tongue, it takes you almost no time at all to cum - the principal swallows your cries as you tumble over the edge, then, as you allow yourself to sink into her, she wraps her arms around your body and holds you tightly against her.

You’re a little annoyed by the fact that your stamina seems to be impacted by the alcohol - a part of you is desperate to go another round, but you seem to have worn yourself out as exhaustion tugs at your limbs and a drunken, post-orgasmic haze clouds your mind.

Still, you’re desperate to take care of Larissa after she was so good for you. You lift your head and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft, adoring smile. She looks down as you move your head and blushes as she sees you smiling up at her - her rosy cheeks are a sight to behold, and you suddenly find yourself getting a bit nervous again. 

“Is it alright if I clean you up a bit?” you whisper softly, your voice a little raspier than usual - you can’t tell if it’s that or your request that causes Larissa’s blush to grow.

“You would do that?” She sounds shy, and it makes you wonder if her past lovers had never afforded her with aftercare - assholes, you think.

“Of course I would.” You push yourself up off the sofa, a bit unsteady on your feet at first - you stumble a bit, then you giggle. “Shit. Where’s your bathroom?” 

Larissa giggles too and points to a door at the back of her office. “Straight down the hall.” 

You feel a bit like you’re floating - you’d like to attribute it to the way it felt to have Larissa look at you with such unadulterated desire in her eyes (you’ve never been looked at in quite that way, and certainly not by anyone as perfect as her) - but it’s probably more so a combination of the wine and the orgasm. Finding the bathroom with ease, you rummage around in search of washcloths, then proceed to wet them in the sink - you’re so focused on your task that you hardly notice Larissa come in, until her naked body is pressed against your back, nipples poking at your skin and sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You look up and meet her gaze in the mirror as her hands find a home on your hips - she smiles and blushes, ducking her head to press a tender kiss to the junction where your shoulder and your neck meet. 

It takes all your strength to keep yourself upright - your legs feel like jello and your knees threaten to give out. Focusing on the task at hand, you spin around in Larissa’s arms and maintain eye contact as you sink down in front of her, the scent of her arousal, her sweat, lingering notes of perfume all making you even dizzier than you already are as you gently clean up the insides of her thighs, her pussy. 

You stand, using another washcloth to quickly clean yourself up and discarding both on the counter, before pushing yourself onto your toes to give Larissa a kiss. 

“I should probably get going,” you murmur sheepishly against her lips - immediately feeling her pout. It makes you grin, and you pull back a bit. “If you want me to stay, you just have to say so, you know?”

Larissa’s cheeks are blazing red, and she stutters a bit - it makes your heart melt. “I-I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you here against your will…”

You laugh, reaching out for her hand and intertwining your fingers with her own. “I’d lead you to your bed now if I had any clue where it was.”

Shooting you a grateful smile, Larissa takes the lead. The moment you’ve climbed into bed, you feel an inescapable sleepiness settle into your bones. You dimly register the bed dip beside you as Larissa crawls in, and then she hastily pulls the pins from her hair and drops them on her nightstand. Her arm tugs at your waist, a sleepy hum vibrating from her chest. She must’ve used her other arm to flick off the lamp on the bedside table as the room is bathed in darkness - then you’re out.

~~~

You’re woken by a harsh light falling into your eyes - you groan and turn your face into the pillow to block it out, your head throbbing at the sudden movement. Shit, you really overdid it last night… 

As the memory of the previous evening hits you, your stomach fills with butterflies all over again - the way Larissa’s hand had felt on your thigh, the way her lips had felt against your nipples, the way she’d pulled you close as you’d fallen asleep… your heart drops and you lift your head, your eyes taking a minute to focus as they fall onto the woman sleeping next to you.

Her lips are parted to let out heavy breaths, her hair sticking to the side of her face as a puddle of drool forms on her pillow. Her eyelids move as she dreams but she looks content. In spite of the drool and the messiness of her curls, you’ve never seen someone look so beautiful sleeping - your heart skips a beat as you realize this isn’t a dream, you’re actually in Larissa’s bed.

The urge to sneak out and run overcomes you for a moment - you don’t know how Larissa will react upon seeing you, if last night would have taken the same course without the alcohol. But you’re no coward, and leaving her alone feels like a shitty move - best to face the consequences of your actions head-on.

Tentatively, you reach out and brush your fingers against her cheekbone, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear - her nose twitches and her eyelashes flutter a bit. The touch seems to rouse her - it takes a moment, but she eventually opens her eyes, looking a bit disoriented and squinting against the brightness of the room.

“Good morning,” you whisper softly, unable to disguise the nervous edge to your voice. 

You can tell Larissa is thinking - hard. Her brows furrow the slightest bit and her eyes dart between your own as she lifts her head off the pillow. She glances down the length of the bed - the two of you are close, the sheets a tangled mess, barely covering your still-naked bodies. She takes a long time to respond, so long that you’re beginning to worry, and you find yourself breaking the silence.

“Do you regret it?” you murmur - your stomach is in knots at the idea that Larissa only decided to seduce you because she was drunk, perhaps even too drunk to properly consent - you find yourself swallowing down a bit of bile at the mere thought. Time seems to slow as you watch her lips part, and you find yourself having to concentrate to catch her whispered response.

“No,” she confesses, her cheeks dusted pink as she glances away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “Do you?”

Your heart skips a beat and you can’t help the way your lips are pulling up into a smile. “No.”

Larissa’s gaze snaps to yours, as if your answer has caught her off-guard. Then she smiles shyly, taking a shaky breath. “Although I must apologize for drinking so much… it wasn’t my intention, nor was it my intention to seduce you when I invited you to share the evening with me.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “If I hadn’t been drunk I probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with it…”

“Nor would I…” A faint smirk crosses Larissa’s face. “Is this the right time to admit that I like you?”

You feel your face flush - you can hardly believe your ears. Larissa actually likes you? “I like you, too,” you whisper hoarsely. “I like you a lot.”

Larissa smiles, one of those smiles that make her nose scrunch and her eyes crinkle at the corners - then she hesitates for a moment, her expression falling. “Darling?”

The pet name hits different when you’re in bed with her, though her expression makes you pause. “Yeah?”

“That was the first time I’ve ever actually… had sex with someone.” Her gaze drops to the bed as she speaks. “I don’t think it’s fair for you not to know that.”

At first, her confession shocks you - she’s the most beautiful, sensual woman you’ve ever met, there’s no way she’s never had sex before. But, as you think over your interactions the previous evening, it starts to make sense. Her sudden shift in demeanor, her hesitance after initially seducing you. You cup her cheek, urging her to look at you - her sapphire eyes are swimming with worry.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whisper. “Can I, um, ask why? Were you saving yourself for marriage or something?”

Larissa snorts. “Nothing like that…” She takes a deep breath, pausing for a moment to think. “I didn’t accept that I liked women until much later in life, I didn’t realize why the thought of being with a man put me off so much. I didn’t want to realize it. And by then I had started my career and it became increasingly harder to find the time to date, and to open myself up to people.”

“You didn’t have trouble opening yourself up to me last night,” you point out with a smirk.

“I wanted to take a chance…” Her eyes dance between your own - her vulnerability is enough to make you melt.

“Did it pay off?”

“Yes.”

You pause for a moment. “Well… then I guess I’m sorry that your first time had to be when we were drunk,” you finally whisper shyly.

“I enjoyed myself either way,” she whispers back. “Perhaps we could try again sober?”

Her wry smile makes you laugh, and you lean in to kiss her. You can feel her arm wind its way around your waist and you eagerly scoot closer, threading your fingers through her soft curls as you deepen the kiss.

Larissa moans into your mouth, her hands sliding down to cup your ass - you can feel yourself grow wet as she palms and squeezes the soft flesh, and you tug gently at her hair, exposing her neck as you kiss your way along her jaw and towards her pulse point. You feel her pulse hammering away underneath your tongue as you suck a bruise into her pale skin, drawing a whimper from her throat. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper. Larissa nods eagerly, and you pull away. “Words, Larissa… you need to tell me what you want.”

Her eyes widen and her face flushes as she stutters out an apology and says “yes, it’s okay.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you mumble as your lips trail down her neck and find her collarbone - Larissa whimpers and tilts her head back, her lips parting to let out shallow breaths. You shift your leg against her, your thigh slipping between hers - her slick immediately coats your skin and draws a groan from your chest. “Fuck, you’re so wet…”

The breathy, strangled moan Larissa gives you in response has you wishing you could pound her into the mattress, and you’re not sure where the sudden courage has come from but you find yourself asking if she owns a strap. Her pupils dilate instantly but she bites her lip and shakes her head. You can’t help the way disappointment briefly swells in your chest - until an idea has you blushing profusely. 

“W-what’s wrong?” Larissa asks breathlessly, her brows knitting together in worry at the look on your face. 

“I, um… I just had a thought, but it’s silly…”

“What is it?”

With a deep breath, you steel yourself for rejection. “M-maybe, if you wanted, since we don’t have a strap, I could shift… you know, that part of myself?” The urge to bury your head in the crook of her neck is stronger than ever but you’re glad you don’t as Larissa’s expression ignites a fire in your core. Her cheeks flush and her mouth hangs open, and she subconsciously tugs you closer from where her hands are still resting on your ass.

“I think I’d like to try that,” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a bit dazed as you wonder if this is all some sort of fever dream. After a moment, your cock grows against Larissa’s thigh - you watch her face intently and see her swallow visibly, pale lashes fluttering against her cheekbones. 

“Say the word and I’ll stop or shift back, no questions asked,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Larissa nods, her arousal plain as day in her expression. “P-please…”

Cupping her cheek, you pull her in for a searing kiss, which she quickly deepens as she licks into your mouth and flicks her tongue against yours. Flipping her onto her back, you hover over her, your cock brushing against her folds and making you both moan at the same time.

You prop yourself up above her, breaking the kiss for a moment as you grasp your cock and guide it up her slit, watching Larissa’s face as her breathing stutters. Her hands fly to your waist as you tease her entrance with the tip, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

As you slowly begin to sink into her, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Your eyes snap to her face and you notice she’s holding her breath, so you pause to take her hands in your own and intertwine your fingers with hers. “Breathe... I won’t move again until you do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Larissa takes a deep breath, then another - you continue to sink into her as slowly and carefully as you can, and she squeezes your hands as her brow furrows a bit. You stay perfectly still once you’re fully sheathed inside of her, giving her as much time as she needs to adjust before moving.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you breathe out with a chuckle. Her gaze is equal parts questioning and shy, and you smile down at her. “F-feels really good… just tell me when to move…”

Larissa nods, resting her hands on your hips and rubbing her thumbs over your hip bones as her gaze wanders down your body. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. 

“I am,” she whispers hoarsely. “Just feeling a bit out of my depth…”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I got you.”

A grateful smile tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips and she wiggles her hips a bit - your eyes flutter shut as a wave of pleasure washes over you, your lips parting to let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move,” Larissa encourages, pressing her hips up a bit. With her consent, you start to thrust, pulling out almost all the way before bottoming out, your pelvis resting against hers. Larissa’s mouth falls open as her eyes fall shut, her grip on your hips tightening. For a moment you’re worried that she’s in pain but then, with the next slow thrust, a loud moan tears from her throat and her lips curl into a blissful smile. 

“Is it okay like this?” you ask through gritted teeth, your body prickling with heat at the feeling of her walls squeezing your cock.

“Y-yes… you can go f-faster if you’d like…”

You increase the pace of your thrusts, Larissa’s hands helping to guide your hips as they roll against her. The perks of being a shapeshifter, you think as your mind grows slightly fuzzy - being able to feel Larissa squeeze your dick as you move inside of her feels like absolute heaven, a feeling you wouldn’t know with a strap alone. Your eyes can’t seem to decide what they want to focus on - Larissa’s face scrunching in pleasure, her tits bouncing with every movement, the sight of your cock disappearing inside of her.

Leaning down over her, you bury your hands in Larissa’s soft curls as your lips meet hers - her breath is hot and uneven against your mouth and she whimpers as your tongue dances with her own.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every thrust, Larissa’s body pressing against your own turns you on beyond belief, but you know she isn’t quite there yet. One of your hands leaves her hair and trails down her body to her clit. Larissa arches her back into your touch, her breath growing shallower and her kiss turning sloppy as you begin to rub her clit, smearing her arousal over the sensitive bud.

“Mmh… ssso good,” Larissa whimpers as her hands fly to your hair and push your head down - getting the hint, you trail kisses down the valley between her breasts, before taking her right nipple between your lips and sucking eagerly. The combination of stimuli have Larissa’s orgasm rapidly approaching, her walls fluttering around your cock as her thighs begin to tremble.

“Bend - mmh, fuck - bend your legs m-more,” you mumble - as Larissa follows your instructions and draws her knees closer to her chest, her eyes roll back in her head and she lets out a broken moan as you’re able to thrust even deeper inside of her. Every thrust jolts her entire body and tears deep, broken moans from her chest. 

“Good girl,” you purr as you latch onto her left nipple, recalling the way she’d reacted to your praise the previous night - it seems to send her over the edge this time as she cums around your cock, her moans dying in her throat as her face contorts in pleasure.

Her orgasm causes your own to crash over you like a wave - you cum deep inside of her, your hips stuttering and your fingers breaking their steady rhythm on her clit. As Larissa’s orgasm begins to fade, her hands gently tug at your hair and pull you up for a heated kiss. Her lips feel like heaven, the euphoria from your orgasm makes you feel like you’re floating as you slow your thrusts.

“S-sensitive,” Larissa murmurs as her hands drift from your head to your hips, gripping tightly to still your movements - you stop thrusting and pull back slightly to meet her gaze. Her face is flushed and her pupils still blown wide, though her brows are slightly furrowed.

You reach up to cup her cheek, gently stroking your thumb across her cheekbone - she smiles softly, nuzzling her cheek against your hand. “Is it okay if I pull out and shift back?”

At Larissa’s nod, you move your hips - a soft groan tumbles from her lips as your cock slips out of her. Within seconds you’ve shifted back, lowering yourself carefully onto Larissa and pressing a kiss to her lips. You feel her smirk into the kiss - it makes every nerve-ending in your body tingle.

She rolls you onto your side without breaking the kiss, then pushes you onto your back and leans over you, her nipples pressing against your own. The friction makes you gasp and you feel yourself grow wet as a rush of arousal pools in your core.

Larissa’s lips leave your own to travel along your jaw and down the center of your throat. You arch your back into the touch as each press of soft, plush lips leaves your skin burning. As she settles between your legs, her lips alternate between each thigh, getting closer and closer to where you need them with every kiss. “Is this okay?” she asks hesitantly, her warmth breath ghosting over your clit and pulling a whimper from your throat.

Looking between your thighs, you’re met with wide blue eyes gazing questioningly up at you, her pupils blown and her cheeks flushed. You nod frantically, only to see her lips curl up into a smirk.

“I need words, darling,” Larissa purrs, using your own words against you - you can’t help but let out a breathy laugh, allowing your head to fall back against the pillows for a moment. 

“Sorry,” you giggle, peering down at her with a sheepish smile. “Y-yeah, it’s okay.”

A faint blush adorns Larissa’s cheeks as she places her hands on your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart and spreading you open in the process. She sucks in a breath as her eyes drop to your glistening cunt - after a moment’s hesitation, she leans in and runs her tongue up your slit, her accompanying moan vibrating against your pussy and sending a wave of pleasure through your entire body. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your eyes glued to her as her head bobs between your legs, her eyes shut as her tongue explores every inch of your cunt, running through your folds and teasing your entrance. Every little hum and whimper of pleasure that escapes her lips makes you wetter, and you find yourself spreading your legs as wide as you can and rolling your hips against her face, desperate for attention to your aching clit.

She seems to enjoy teasing you - you can almost feel her smile against your pussy as she eats you out, her tongue getting close to your clit but never fully touching it. It takes a whimpered “please, Larissa” for her to finally circle the throbbing bud with her tongue - the feeling makes your toes curl and you fall back against the pillows, a deep moan drawn from your chest. 

Larissa’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently at first, then harder as you buck your hips against her. She gets bolder as time goes on, curling her arms around your thighs and tugging you even closer as she slowly builds you to an orgasm. The little noises she’s making combined with the obscenely wet sound of your slick mixed with Larissa’s saliva only serve to turn you on further - a few licks later you’re tumbling over the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head and your back arching off the bed as your hips stutter against her face and your clit pulses against her tongue.

As you slowly come back down to earth, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, Larissa crawls up your body, planting soft, wet kisses up your stomach and chest before hovering over you and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You eagerly suck your juices off her tongue, humming in delight even as your cheeks turn pink.

Larissa’s blush matches your own as she pulls back, her eyes sparkling as they dart between your own. “Was that okay?” 

“That was perfect.” Your grin is practically giddy as you cup her cheek, your fingers curling behind her ear as you draw her in for another, longer kiss. Your hands come to rest on her waist, gently urging her onto her side as you kiss until both of you have run out of air. When you pull back and open your eyes, her warm breath hits your face and she’s smiling peacefully. A lock of platinum blonde hair is stuck to her temple and you reach up to brush your hand through her hair, pushing it back - her smile grows and she lets out a contented hum.

“To think yesterday you couldn’t even call me by my first name,” Larissa whispers playfully - her voice still has a bit of a husky quality to it that makes your stomach flip. As her words sink in you find yourself blushing like mad - you wish the statement weren’t as true as it is, but somehow in the span of one night everything has changed, and you can’t say you’re complaining.

“I can still call you Principal Weems in bed if you want,” you joke, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Oh? Is that what you’re into?” Larissa teases with a laugh, though her own cheeks are growing warmer by the second.

“I’ll try anything once.”

Larissa’s laugh catches in her throat and her pupils dilate - you take the opportunity to steal a kiss, one which catches her off guard at first but is quickly and happily returned.

“So you’d want to continue this?” she asks breathlessly against your lips.

You nod, swallowing nervously. “I’ve wanted you in this way and every other way for so long, Larissa. I’d love nothing more, if that’s something you’d also like.” Your eyes search hers for a hint of uncertainty, apprehension, disappointment - instead, you’re met with softness and affection as Larissa’s lips curl up at the corners.

“Then it appears we’re on the same page.” 

“It appears we are…”

x

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#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems

[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one • part two (you are here) •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people

"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"

I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.

"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.

"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.

I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.

"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.

The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.

I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."

Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.

I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.

"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.

"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.

"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.

This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.

I snicker.

Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.

"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.

He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.

"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.

"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.

"I have no idea."

I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.

"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.

Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.

"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.

"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.

"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."

I shrug.

"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.

✮•

"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.

"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.

"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."

I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

I groan inwardly.

This thing again.

I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.

He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.

Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.

"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.

"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.

I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.

"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"

He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.

"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"

"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.

"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.

Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.

"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"

"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.

I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.

"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.

"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"

"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.

"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.

"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.

Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.

"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"

We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.

Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.

"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.

"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"

"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.

Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"

Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.

He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"

"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"

Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.

He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."

Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.

"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.

"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.

"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.

"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."

"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.

Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"

He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.

Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.

"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"

"The fate of the multi-verse-"

"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."

Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.

Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.

"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.

"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.

"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"

"That's insulting."

Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"

Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.

I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.

"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."

"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.

"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"

I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.

"Woah."

Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.

"What's this?" He breathes out.

"This, is everything."

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

[deathbecomesthem]

Roomies 3.5

+18 ONLY.

There be masturbation below.

Summary: Directly after the movie night in chapter 3. This is Eddie's POV. ~700 words.

---

Eddie’s mind is absolutely spinning. It’s clouded with lust. He can’t even be mad at himself for picking that fucking movie, not when he has the most delicious images to play in his mind while he touches himself like this. He feels bad for walking away from you the way he did, but he couldn’t stand that close without closing the gap between you. And in this condition - erection pressing against the fly of his jeans and stomach knotted with desire - it would be too much. 

He hears your feet pad down the hallway, and your door shut behind you. He sees you in his mind’s eye, and that vision combined with the way his fist is grasping the base of his cock, he’s unable to control the vibrating moan that rises up in his chest. A faint thought of, she’ll hear you, you idiot, is drowned out when runs his thumb over the wet slit at the tip of his cock. 

“Fuck me.” It’s meant to be a whisper, but he can hear the words bounce back to him. It’s bad, because he can hear your movements on the other side of the wall. He knows you can hear him. The lust clears enough for him to readjust his naked body so that his face can hide in his pillow. Muffle the noises of pleasure and save what little bit of dignity he might have left.

Your bed creaks as you get into it, and Eddie’s fucking himself now. His hand is working his length, slick with lubricant, willing himself to cum so that he can put this behind him - when he hears it. A whine. His hand freezes, but his cock has a mind of its own, and it throbs and leaks at the sound. The next thing he hears is clearer, and it rings like a bell inside his skull. In a voice that’s higher than he’s used to hearing coming from your mouth is a longer whine that deepens and ends in a filthy moan.

“Oh my god.” At these words, Eddie’s brain immediately sees you in front of him. He can see you holding a vibrator with your legs spread wide for him. He sees your head pushed back into your pillow while your legs start to shake. “Fuck, right there.”

Eddie is right there. He’s right fucking there with you, even with this wall between you. He’s torn between wanting to punch through it to see what you’re doing to yourself and keeping the rhythmic pace he’s got going with his fist. His hips reach up to extend the pleasure with each firm jerk, and he’s matching your noises with his own.

Eddie thinks about those red lace panties now, he thinks about holding your vibrator to your cunt while your wetness drenches them. He thinks about the way the lace would look digging down into the flesh of your hips while fucks you from behind. And then he remembers that butterfly tattoo that he’s only caught a quick glimpse of, and his brain completely leaves the building.

He’s so close, he wants to scream into the darkness about how much he wants you. How much he needs you. How he thinks about you all the time, and has for so long. It feels so good to touch himself like this and hear you doing the same, drool begins to pool at the corner of his mouth. He never wants this to end, even as his stomach muscles begin to tighten in that familiar way. 

“Eddie!” The sound of his name, sung out from your room in the height of pleasure, sends him over the edge. He comes with a bang, his ejaculate rains down on his stomach in spurts, and his hips continue to chase. They’re searching for your skin, your beautiful face, your wet cunt - any part of you that he can let his seed cover. Instead, when he’s fully spent he sees his cum drenching the thick curls at the base of his softening cock and the way to just below his left nipple. You really got some distance tonight, Munson.

Neither of you sleep well that night, despite the physical satisfaction. The silence in your adjoined rooms is too loud, both of you too frightened to even roll over in your beds. Frozen in terror for what this will look and feel like in the morning light.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction