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#He seems a lil too pale to me :
chaoswithcausation · 1 year
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Happy Birthday, Patton!!
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littlexdeaths · 20 days
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i get off - e.m.
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perv eddie munson x perv fem reader
you don’t know that i know, you watch me every night…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), eddie is lil peeping tom but reader loves it, they both steal each other’s shit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, choking, spanking, dirty talk, mean!dom eddie, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, squirting, they both are nasty freaks
a/n: this is another edit and repost from my old account. it’s one of my favorite fics so i had to move it over here. enjoy freaks xx. 😘
based on i get off by halestorm
word count: 3.8k
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you’re sprawled out on your bed, fingers running through your drenched folds. clad in only an oversized iron maiden t-shirt and a pair of knee high socks, you’re everything he’s ever wanted. plucked directly out of one of his dirtiest fantasies.
you can feel his eyes on you, you always do.
not that he realizes that.
and while you’ve lived barely ten feet apart for your entire lives, eddie has never had the courage to make a move.
so he settles for this— watching you through his bedroom window.
fantasizing that the delicate fingers now dipping inside you were his. and the fist currently wrapped around his thick cock was smaller, softer. yours.
the first time he witnessed you like this it was a complete accident.
you had been pent up all day, and didn’t think to shut your bedroom curtains before slipping your hand inside your panties. the bedside lamp bathing your room in a muted yellow hue. eddie had been working on a new song, guitar perched on his lap.
he was frustrated with trying to string together this new melody, glancing up in utter annoyance. that is until his gaze drifted towards the window, his eyes widened and his cock stirred in his jeans.
you looked beautiful, you always did. however this was the most vulnerable state you could be in, and the fact that he got to witness it— made you all the more enchanting to him.
he’d be embarrassed to admit that watching you touch yourself made him cum in his jeans, completely untouched. and that first time you were none the wiser, not noticing the dark eyes that were trailing your figure. but once eddie had gotten a taste he couldn’t get enough.
eagerly waiting by his bedroom window to enjoy his new favorite nightly program… you.
you weren’t sure exactly how long he’d been doing it for, but the night you caught him in the act, it awoke something within you. while eddie made sure to keep his bedroom light off, the moonlight was not on his side that night.
it had filled his room in a soft white glow, highlighting his pale skin. his naked form perched on the edge of his unmade bed, stroking his shaft in tandem with each thrust of your fingers.
his moans are what gave him away, as your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure. but he’d gotten a little too carried away, thinking about how pretty your pussy would look stuffed full with his cock.
the thin walls of the trailer doing nothing to conceal his sounds. when your eyes finally opened, you were met with the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.
eddie fucking himself into his fist, his head tilted back as he spilled all over his ringed fingers. the image alone had your eyes rolling back, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. one of the most intense you’ve ever had, and from that night on you always kept your curtains open.
desperately chasing that euphoric feeling again.
while you didn’t always see him, you knew he was there. the feeling of his greedy eyes on you was enough to have you cumming harder than you ever have in your entire life. your whimpers were muffled but still rang through his ears as he’d make a mess all over his hand and chest.
different images of you— on your knees, on top of him, taking you from behind, or his favorite with his head buried between your thighs.
it was slowly driving him crazy, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of you. he needed more. he quickly found himself staring out his window any chance he could. gazing longingly as you floated around your bedroom.
he watched you change, get ready for the day, study with your college textbooks. your pencil resting in between your teeth. eddie knew it was wrong, that if you ever found out you would be revolted.
if he only knew it was the exact opposite, and how you couldn’t finish without feeling his eyes on you. but you also needed more, desperate to feel his weight on top of you. his mouth trailing over your skin, his cock stretching you out perfectly.
so you became bolder, going as far as to leave your bedroom window open. letting your moans drift through the night air, teasing him further.
and when you noticed some of your panties had gone missing it only heightened your desire for him. knowing he was in your room, touching your things… holding your panties up to his nose as he came all over himself.
grunts of your name escaped his pouted lips, and his left yours as you drenched your fingers. but it wasn’t enough.
you needed him.
fueled by your insatiable lust you found yourself gazing at him more and more. as he sat on his messy floor, playing guitar or working on a dnd campaign. focusing intently on his fingers, and imagining just how good they would feel inside you.
but your favorite was when he was fresh out of the shower. his dark curls were drenched, water dripping down his inked chest. the patch of hair that disappeared beneath his towel drove you absolutely mad.
so you took a play out of his own book, sneaking into his room while he was working at benny’s. or coming home late from a gig at the hideout, surrounding yourself in everything that was so distinctly eddie.
eddie honestly wasn’t concerned when a few of his shirts had gone missing. or a pair of his cum stained boxers, a guitar pick… as he lost things all the time. he simply chalked it up to his forgetful nature, either he misplaced them or lent them to someone.
that is until tonight, as he peered through your window for what felt like the millionth time. his heart was in his throat as he instantly recognized the iron maiden shirt adorning your frame as his.
the realization dawns on him that you knew exactly what he’d been doing this whole time… and instead of being disgusted or upset, you liked it. enough so that you began doing the same thing to him.
that epiphany made any reservations or fears he still had fade into nothingness. the male decided that he couldn’t sit back and only watch you anymore.
he had to have you.
the brunette rose to his feet, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his long legs before slipping out of his bedroom window. quickly dropping onto the ground as he walks the short distance to your adjoined trailer.
his large hands grip the bottom of the window sill, pushing it open the rest of the way before he’s hoisting himself through it. a small gasp leaves you as he tumbles inside and onto your bedroom floor.
eddie is quick to get back on his feet, as you eagerly eye the obvious tent in his gray sweats. licking his plump lips as he sizes you up. he stalks forward like a predator, slowly crawling onto your bed and between your spread legs.
the male grabs your wrist, coaxing your fingers out of your drenched cunt. raising them up to his mouth, slipping them between his lips with a deep groan. “such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
for once you’re speechless, his actions jumbling your already fuzzy thoughts. you never imagined he’d actually come through your window, like you’d been dreaming about for weeks.
“speak for yourself munson…” your confidence suddenly comes rushing back, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. feeling your wetness pooling onto the bed sheets as he swirls his tongue around them.
“guess we’re both a little dirty, huh baby?” eddie chuckles as he removes your fingers from his mouth, now leaning over you.
letting yourself fall back against the pillow, his face mere inches from yours. this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to him, now noticing the light freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose. the dimple that indents his cheek as he smirks down at you, little things that you found utterly endearing.
his hands begin drifting down your sides, his smirk only widening as you shudder beneath him. “is that what does it for ya? you like being watched sweetness?” he grips the fabric of his shirt, starting to push it up your torso.
you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. “i get off on you…” you slowly trail your lips up his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto his pale skin. the male letting out a husky moan as you nip at his ear, “getting off on me.”
eddie curses under his breath before he’s pinning you down against the mattress, his lips crashing against yours. your fingers tangle in his wild curls, kissing him back just as forcefully. all the pent up sexual tension and desire now spilling from both of you, as his hips rut into yours. feeling his hard length pressing onto your thigh, moaning into his mouth.
your impatience seems to get the better of you as you grip onto one of his wrists, guiding his large hand in between your thighs. a not so subtle way of telling him exactly what you wanted, the male nipping at your lower lip before he’s leaning back onto his knees.
spreading your thighs even wider, as his dark eyes zero in on the mess between them. his fingers dip between your folds, gathering your sticky nectar on the digits. swirling them around your swollen clit before moving lower.
the metalhead teases you as he circles the tip of his middle finger on your entrance. barely pushing it inside you before removing it, a wet squelch filling the room. “oh listen to her purr for me baby… you want my fingers inside you?”
you nod frantically, lifting your hips up in an effort to get him closer to where you needed him. but he pulls them away immediately, causing you to whine from the loss. eddie grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together as he meets your hooded gaze. “i asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”
he watches as your eyes glaze over more, the dominance he was exuding turning your brain to mush. “and i expect an answer, or is that pretty little head of yours too fucked out for me?” his tone is condescending, borderline rude but it only seems to fuel the fire in between your legs.
you let out a soft whimper, the male letting go of your cheeks to trail his sticky fingers down your jaw.
“need your fingers eddie…” the male chuckles, wrapping his hand around your neck. hovering his face over yours, his thumb stroking the column of your throat.
“need them where, hm?”
you’re quickly becoming impatient, and he can tell from how your lips jut out into a pout. thighs closing in around his own, in an attempt to feel some kind of friction.
“come on now… don’t ya wanna be a good girl for me?” he can see the effect those words have on you, your pupils dilating and your breath hitching in your throat.
“put them inside me.”
while your tone is meant to be demanding, it comes out as more of a plea than anything else. your heart is racing in anticipation as his fingers trail down your stomach. cupping your cunt in the palm of his hand, “and what do good girls say?”
you now realize your mistake, the male raising a brow as he awaits your answer. “please touch me.” eddie is quick to reward you, plunging two fingers into your awaiting heat.
“see? now you’re learning,” another string of curses leaves his mouth as your walls tighten around his fingers and a high pitched moan falls from yours.
“shit sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.” he curls the digits up, watching in awe as your back arches off the mattress.
“fuck i need to taste you,” he mumbles more to himself as he lays between your thighs. his tongue darting out, encircling your clit with an urgency you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.
the noises you’re making are music to his ears, and while he’s heard them before— you’ve never sounded quite so needy. pride blossoms in his chest knowing it was because of him, you needed him. he was making you feel this good.
your thighs begin to tremble as he increases the pressure of his tongue, pumping his fingers faster.
“m-more need more.” while eddie wanted to reprimand you for not using your manners, he’s been waiting to have you like this for far too long.
but he’d make sure you didn’t forget next time… if there was a next time. he hoped there would be.
he slips a third finger inside you, the long, thick digits reaching places you never realized existed until now.
and now that you knew what they felt like, your own would never suffice again.
“aww pretty thing, you gonna cum?” he chuckles mockingly as the sound vibrates against your core.
the feeling only aiding in bringing your release that much closer, as your eyes flutter shut. a harsh slap on your thigh has them flying back open, your eyes meeting his as he looks up at you from his position between them.
“eyes on me,” his tone is stern, commanding as his tongue returns to assaulting your swollen bud.
as you start to grind your hips up against his mouth, it pushes his fingers even deeper inside you. hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out a broken, “oh god, please.”
eddie hums against you, increasing the speed of his fingers. “i prefer master… but god has a nice ring to it.” if you weren’t on the brink of an orgasm you might have found that funny, not registering his soft laughter as he sucks harshly on your clit.
the sensation is what finally sends you over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his head and trapping him there.
not that he would ever dare complain.
once you settle back into the mattress is when he pulls away, crawling back up your body towards you. your excitement covers his chin in a light sheen, now tasting yourself as he kisses you with a bruising force.
you reach for the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down his legs. feeling his cock rubbing against the bare skin of your thigh, and you want nothing more than to feel it hard and heavy on your tongue.
“wanna taste you too eds,” you whine as he trails his lips across your jaw, sucking onto your skin. as much as he would love to have you gagging on his cock, his impatience had reached its peak.
“next time sweetness… need to be inside you.”
you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. the promise of a next time making your heart flutter beneath your ribs.
eddie unwillingly untangles himself from you, now standing at the edge of the bed to remove his sweats. his cock stands at full attention as you sit up, eagerly crawling towards him. your mouth waters at the sight, finally able to admire him how you’ve been dying to for the last few weeks.
you wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft, glancing up at him as you lick up the pre-cum that was smeared across his pink tip. the male grips a fistful of your hair in his hand, tugging you off his dick as a small whimper leaves you.
“hands and knees— now.” he nearly growls at you, releasing you as you continue to look up at him in a daze.
“don’t make me repeat myself baby.”
and as much as you would love to test how far you could push his buttons, that would be saved for a later date. so you do as you’re told, crawling away from him now on your hands and knees.
feeling his eyes trailing over the plush skin of your ass, “take a picture munson, it’ll last longer.”
what you don’t expect is to hear the snap of your polaroid camera, whipping your head around to see the shit eating grin he was sporting. setting the camera and picture down on your dresser once more, “just following orders sweet cheeks.” he chuckles, crawling onto the bed behind you.
eddie lands a firm smack on your ass, his chest now draped across your back. his hot breath fanning over your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “face the mirror, you aren’t gonna wanna miss this baby.”
your thighs clench together, now turning to face the full length mirror that stood across from your bed.
you glance at yourself briefly before your eyes trail upwards, now meeting his in the reflection. a cocky grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hands now roaming the full expanse of your ass.
feeling the tip of his cock brush against your core, pushing your hips back so you could feel more. eddie’s calloused hands grip you tightly, stopping any further movement on your part.
“don’t be fucking greedy, you’ll take what i give you.”
you squeak out a small apology, keeping your eyes focused on him as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. gasping once he slowly pushed himself into your awaiting heat, a strangled moan tumbling from his lips.
his eyes squeeze shut as he bottoms out, his balls flush against the curve of your ass. you feel incredibly full, the stretch so divine it makes your head spin.
“eddie please.” you mewl, watching as his brown eyes meet yours.
desperate for him to do something— anything.
eddie’s rings dig into your hips, his eyes glancing down to watch as he slides his cock back out. groaning as you’ve already coated his length in your arousal, a sight he’d only ever seen in his dreams.
“gonna give you everything,” he grunts before slamming himself back inside, knocking the air out of your lungs as you fall forward onto the mattress.
you grip the edge of it for support as he continues to rock his hips into yours, this new angle allowing him to rub against your sweet spot perfectly. keeping your eyes locked on the mirror, the image of him behind you— thrusting into you will be seared in your memory forever.
the black ink swirling on his skin, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. the veins in his forearms that are much more noticeable as he grips you tighter. he looks more like a greek god than anyone had a right to.
your jaw is slack, mouth hanging open as you continue to watch him. the little ‘uh uh uhs’ that leave your lips mix with the sound of your skin slapping together. now filling the quiet space of your bedroom.
“taking me so well— this pussy was made for me.”
eddie moans, completely distracted by the way your pussy flutters around him. the creamy ring that’s formed around the base of his cock expanding with each thrust of his hips.
“look at me,” you whine, that signature smirk returning to his features as he meets your eyes in the mirror once more.
“aww poor little baby,” he coos, slipping his hand between your thighs and landing a harsh slap on your already sensitive bud. “always need my eyes on you… don’t you?”
a string of curses slips past your lips as you nod your head. “need it,” you whimper as his calloused fingertips circle over your clit. “need you.”
your words seem to have quite the effect on him, a low growl leaving him as he fucks into you even harder.
“what do you need me to do, pretty girl? tell me.” it takes you a minute before you can answer him, the male having fucked any coherent thoughts from your head.
“n-need it inside.” is the best you can manage, but eddie understands all too well.
it’s what he had hoped you would say, “yeah, you want me to fuck you so full? ruin this pretty little pussy for anyone else?” your eyes roll back in your head, as the male wraps his other hand around your throat.
he handles you like a rag doll as he pulls you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest. the action forces his cock even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix. his hand that was wrapped around your throat is now cradling your jaw, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.
your half lidded eyes watch as he leans forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “this pussy is mine now, got that sweetness?”
it’s suddenly all too much, the rubber band in your middle finally snaps as your body trembles in his embrace. cries of his name and ‘yours yours yours’ tumbling from your mouth.
the brunette watches in amazement as you drench his thighs, your bed sheets— the pressure almost forcing him out completely.
the metalhead curses as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the wet squelching of your pussy finally sending him over the edge. grunting as he pumps you full of his cum, your body falling limp against his chest.
you’re both panting as you come down from your highs. his touch on your hips is much more gentle than before as he coaxes you onto your back.
you hum contently, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion hits you. eddie cradles your face in his palms, pressing soft kisses to each of your eyelids before his touch suddenly disappears.
your eyes fly open in alarm, reaching out for him as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “don’t worry… you aren’t rid of me just yet.”
eddie chuckles as he spreads your thighs apart, his dark eyes watching intently as his cum drips out of you. pooling onto the bed beneath you, making an even bigger mess of your sheets.
his head dips lower, inhaling as he gathers the mixture of both your arousal onto his awaiting tongue. moaning before diving in deeper, “shit, we taste good together.”
“too much,” you whimper, wiggling your hips away from his eager mouth due to the oversensitivity.
eddie presses a kiss to each of your thighs before he joins you once more, collapsing next to you with a boyish grin on his face. you reach out to trace the stubble along his jaw, your fingertips brushing over his plump lips.
you feel him release a shaky breath against your fingertips, the look he’s giving you makes your stomach do a little flip.
“so… is it too late to ask you out on a date?”
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comfortless · 4 months
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hades! konig and persephone! reader
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content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. abduction, voyeurism, dubcon, not very explicit smut.
notes: this has been on my mind for an eternity actually thank you sweet anon for finally encouraging me to write it out! if you celebrate, merry christmas! and if not consider this just a lil gift for absolutely no reason apart from for being my first Kö request. 💕
A hollow grows within him the moment his gaze meets hers. A chance crossing whilst collecting a rare offering of fruit laid out just for him. Most mortals wouldn’t beckon his attention, and the gods often left him just as well. He knows better than to take insult and become reckless, though… recklessness comes as easily as breathing when his stare settles on her across the glade. She twirls in silent dance, pirouetting carefully as if to avoid crushing the nature that springs up, brushing against her soles. Her voice picks up in a song when she notes the figure watching her from a distance, her cadence no less beautiful than any choir despite the flighty waver in her tone.
When the nymphs rise up from the stream to listen, he stands transfixed for a moment as they pull her in with them for a more elaborate dance, voices all melding until they break into a chorus of giggles and stories.
It should have been left at that.
She walks an earth made for her; flowers blossoming beneath her bare soles, each root extending for just a chance to brush against tender flesh, a breeze that flits gently against her hair. The daughter of Demeter, something unattainable, too precious to be dirtied by the howling abyss below her feet.
He is tethered to darkness and unknowns, an enigma with dried blood beneath his fingernails; the only songs he hears are screams. He’s since stolen flowers from the meadows she dances in. Beautiful peonies and soft green things that smell sweet. Flowers don’t bloom in the dark, they wither and dry.
Days are spent in melancholic longing, nights his roaring grief melds with the wailing of lost souls. Ugly and tainted noises that he dreams will reach her ears, that she will come to him with her lashes wet with tears, wrap him in her arms and quiet all but her own voice as she tells him that he’s more beautiful than her rivers and her blooms.
Yet, she never does.
König takes it upon himself to walk the land of mortals, teemed with life and pleasures more often now. He pulls himself from below with unnatural fire behind his eyes, a horrible, yearning abyss in place of the feathery, clumsy love that he’s watched so many others allow for themselves.
She notices him while he watches her bathe amongst the nymphs, stood upright and imposing beneath the shade of a tree. Each time, while the nymphs shy away with giggles and hands curled over their breasts, she merely keeps her eyes on him; lips-parted and pulse raging. He knows, would swear by it, that his obsession is not entirely one-sided.
Once, she chooses to wave at him, a demure flick of her wrist while his stare remains fixed upon her. The droplets of water from the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts and the pebbled nipples there— down, further into the water that envelopes her and sends his mind to flicker, a roaring flame building from his chest to his groin.
All of his frustrations pale and cower at the fantasy that he just may be able to grant himself the liberty of sinking into something writhing and warm from just one, simple gesture.
He knows he’s fucked, because his first thought after the lullaby of attraction subsides is to poke her just a little; prod her and see what makes her cry the hardest, blanket her in the shadow of himself and pick her apart like a vulture to a cadaver, do things to her that no man ever has or should. It’s not right, and he has to force himself to turn away, the fabric of the veil obscuring his face as he slinks back into the dark where he belongs. Away from the untouchable maiden who seems to haunt him endlessly with her teasing.
The giggles and splashes of the nymphs whisper through the air like the chirping of birds. Though, one voice stands out above the rest of the noise, causes him to halt in his tracks.
“Why does he never speak to us?”
Her voice, so sweet, asking about him when she should be speaking of nothing but the beauty surrounding her, the warmth of the sun and never the cold darkness of the moon.
It’s eating away at him, he realizes, when he can no longer satisfy himself. Nights lain in a haze, staring up at blackened walls with his length in hand. All it takes is the memory of wet lashes and a soft smile, usually. Her beauty is enough to bring even him to his knees, yet, he finds himself instead on the brink of hysteria the first night he finds a vision of her is not sufficient enough to reach the brilliant white haze of a climax.
The thought of stealing her away from her world of beauty to drag her down into the dark with him fills him with both elation and a terrible guilt. Zeus himself is no different; the thought shouldn’t warrant a seeping coldness in his veins, nor should it have caused him to spill his seed into his hand with only a mere flick of the pad of his thumb over his tip, yet it accomplishes both. A waste, when it should be buried deep inside of his beloved.
It takes only two nights for him to plot, to have Gaia choose to favor him, and on the third day the Narcissus flower blooms, pretty and golden. It echoes false promises, softness and beauty beyond even the daughter of Demeter’s imaginations. She will hate him, she will. Her very soul will sour the moment she lays her eyes on him next, but eventually… she will come to understand, return his love with a whisper of her own. Lightly, at best, but it would still be more than he had ever known.
He watches the roots of the plant from below, a pinprick of warm light shining down. The thumps of footsteps overhead, shaking down loose soil like raindrops, giggles like crackling thunder. She’s roaming about with her nymphs again, gentle with her and all of her beauty. After watching her for so very long, he’s more than certain they will be braiding the flowers and falling asleep after fits of laughter with the taste of fruit on their tongues. Only, she’s condemned herself by being so predictable. She will fall, not into soft grasses with a woman’s arms thrown over her, but directly into his own. She won’t eat the fruit of the earth, but drink his wine and allow him to lose himself in her flesh, bedded down against the pelts of beasts and blackened out by shadows.
The wait isn’t long. Her voice breaks through the quiet of the earth below her feet, seems to light up even the space between the two of them as her footfalls halt only several paces away.
“Look at this one!,” she calls out.
Several steps follow after her as one of the ladies of the river comes to join her. He imagines the smile on his beloved’s face, the way her body curves as she kneels down to his trap and his fingers twitch in anticipation of what’s to come.
“Maybe not that one, sweet,” the nymph warns. “There are prettier ones by the bank.”
König can feel his jaw tighten, eyelids pausing to narrow up at the small light as he tries, forces himself to believe that this was fated. She wouldn’t turn away— she couldn’t.
“No... just look at it. We’ve not seen one so lovely since last spring.”
“What if someone else planted it for themselves?”
“But… I want it.”
She sounds so pitiful, so gentle, and he can feel that swell of heat curling inside of him again. The urge to simply love her feels all-consuming with each word that passes from her mouth.
The two above giggle to themselves at her mischief, before finally, the roots begin to move from a gentle tug above. In a matter of seconds, the entire plant has been uprooted. For a daughter of nature to not long for its beauty would be unrealistic, yet he still exhales his relief. The earth riots beneath the women’s feet, splintering cracks and loud discordance echo through the valley. The nymph’s shrieks join the disarray as her featherlight footfalls lead her far, far away from what belongs to him: the dark, the rot, and now her.
With so little time to react, she falls headfirst into the abyss, clutching the narcissus tightly between her soft breasts. Waiting arms are raised to the glimpse of sun and beauty to catch her as he pulls her tightly against his chest, tucks her head against a broad shoulder and grasps at her waist. Whatever he had imagined her flesh to feel like paled in comparison to her warmth, the softness that gives with each press of a digit that makes her tense beneath his touch.
She’s crying, shaking, terrified as she weakly raises her head and offers him a smile. It’s the kind of smile that screams savior, and he can’t bring himself to correct her. No one has ever looked at him with such tenderness.
Everything quiets the moment she looks up to him like that, after condemning herself to him as though she knows nothing of men and gods. She looks at him like he’s an angel, in turn he bites his tongue so hard he can feel the pinpricks of blood and soreness blossom from the wound. He knows he isn’t good, but the heavens have got their filth, too.
“Thank you.” She speaks in a whisper as the world above falls back into place, blanketing them both in shadow and the scent of soil and brimstone. Politeness seems unnecessary, now, though he places her gently onto her feet.
He’s far too mesmerized to stop himself from dropping to his knees in front of her and trailing a hand from her knee to her thigh, squeezing flesh so warm that the very feeling lingers pleasantly against his palm.
If a god couldn’t pluck him from this emptiness and set him on a right path, perhaps a goddess could, as he has always imagined. It’s only confirmed the instant he realizes she isn’t flinching away from his touch.
“I didn’t save you,” he explains calmly.
He’s struck down titans, claimed rulership over the underworld, and yet nothing has made him feel smaller than the fretful look in her eyes as she looks down to him kneeling before her like little more than a common man. As if to provide comfort, selfishly to himself, his massive hands drift higher to rest on her hips still wet with river water and blades of grass clinging to her just as he has longed to do. For what’s felt like an eternity of waiting, of pining, only to have it end with something as simple as a flower.
“I brought you here.”
She’s still beautiful when she cries; a palm is clasped over her mouth, eyes swimming as she trembles in his grip. Of course, she knows what this is about without ever having to ask, yet she still does as if to plead him to tell her that her thoughts are all wrong— that she’s safe and will return to her lovely friends, to her mother that would assuredly be worried sick and furious.
The rise to his feet feels like a mile long stretch, whilst he keeps her caged between the dirty wall and the vast expanse of chest. He shushes her with a gentle tone, wipes her tears away with the ghosting of fingertips before pushing up the veil covering his face to lie claim to her mouth as though his very life depended upon it. Perhaps it did. Though he did not fear Demeter, nor his brothers should she call upon them, he feared not having this ethereal, gentle thing at his side. He feared the creep of loneliness that ravaged his bed each night.
She sighs against his mouth, but does not reciprocate. Everything about her is tense and stressed, a wild mare preparing to kick out for the first time. His tongue lolls out to lap against her soft lips, just twice before he forces himself to part from her.
His beloved brushes away stray tears from her cheeks with the meat of her palms, shivering just a little as she tries to force herself to straighten up, appear braver despite the way she teeters on the edge of falling apart so easily before him. The heavy gaze of obsession fixed upon his face turns further predacious when she apologizes for not being able to help herself in response.
“I didn’t know it was yours,” she explains, holding out the ruined flower to him in one, shaking hand. She protests in her own way, eternally kind, but it all falls on deaf ears as he brushes the petals from her palm and takes her up into his arms again. With an arm beneath the backs of her knees and the other wrapped tightly around her middle, he leads her deeper into the underworld.
A mere taste wouldn’t do.
Her protests are nothing more than soft sniffles when he does take her to his bed of pelts, her arm even thrown over his shoulder as her body presses tightly to him. He thinks for only a moment that he could take his time, stop this all before she truly does grow to loathe him, but the descent into the bed only fortifies his resolve; his belief that this gentle woman of the earth, who smells of magnolia and clear waters belonged entirely to him. For now and forevermore.
“You are to be my wife.”
That quiets her for a moment, her eyes finally meeting his once more as he hovers over her, a palm to either side of her head. She has a mind to shyly curl her hand against her chest then, centered between her breasts which rise and fall with each flighty breath. It’s not panic, but more— curiosity, a misleading thing that he takes to be acceptance until she graces him with a mere murmur of her voice again.
“I don’t belong here.”
König knows that she doesn’t belong in a place like this, for all her grace to be lost to the cold, the rot; his kingdom is nothing but a wasteland riddled with the dead and subjects who take up the mantle of cruelty in his stead. The thought of actually allowing her to go instills rage and melancholy so quickly, he curls his fingers into the fur below to keep himself from flinching.
“You will.”
A digit reaches to trail across her bottom lip, tentative, but the need to touch overwhelms him past the point of caring for much else. To his amazement, she still does not push him away.
“How could that be?”
He doesn’t respond.
More than bedding her, a matter more pressing pushes to the forefront of his mind. Though he knows the likelihood of anyone being aware of her disappearance is nonexistent, a mere whisper from the beaks of crows by this time, he would do well to ensure that she wasn’t leaving. Just as every other soul resigned to dwell here with him, she too would remain.
“You’re famished,” he whispers the suggestion as he splays a palm out over her bare abdomen, only backing away enough to allow her a small length of space between them.
Her concerned stare shoots from his palm to his veil in an instant before she weakly nods her head and props herself up on her elbows.
“Quite… yes.”
She allows herself to be pulled into his lap without a fuss, doesn’t make mention of the hardened cock beneath her. His mind is swimming with the fantasies that kept him tame on so many nights without her as he presses his nose against her temple. A shallow intake of breath, and her lips part readily for him as he pushes the sweet pomegranate seed into her mouth, savoring the brush of her tongue against his fingertip. She eats without thought, never knowing how she’s tethered herself to his plane.
There’s an offering of sweet wine followed by a gathering of honeysuckle for her to sip the nectar from as well before he’s convinced she’s pliant enough. Despite the desire raging within him for all of this time, he would not be cruel to her. The thought of hurting this sweet, little dream doesn’t excite him. It’s her love that he wants, not her anguish.
He lies her back with sweet whispers, gentle caresses as he listens to her murmurs in response. She speaks of the stories only small creatures would know; the way the winds change and the rivers flood, the prettiest places she’s been. No fruit has ever tasted sweeter to her than the pomegranate, and nothing has ever filled him with such emotion as the moment he penetrates her.
He speaks to her through it, tries to, whilst he’s overcome with a pleasure that assuredly no other has ever had the blessing of. She affixes herself perfectly to him, clinging to him as he takes her with gentle thrusts. Gritted teeth and barely contained grunts are met with dulcet mewls as her hands reach for his. His heart aches, truly, at the knowledge that she isn’t meant for this place; his kingdom is nothing but suffering, and she belongs beneath the sun in meadows of flowers. His last thrust is deep, reminds him of the places he dares not tread often, the domains of his brothers, pillow soft clouds and a heaven far above, lost to him.
It’s her consoling him when he fills her to bursting with his seed— delicate arms curling around his head, cradling him against her breasts as she silenced the tears he hadn’t even realized he had shed. He had damned her, yet her soul had not soured; not all flowers withered in the dark.
The endless night is easier on his beloved after the first. She visits with the other souls and comes to him for comfort when the screams and cries in the darkness become too much to bear. She’s less fragile than he had anticipated when she demands he bring her home, and those demands so often end with little else than König taking her into his arms to lead her elsewhere. The underworld can be beautiful too, when seated upon a throne being hand fed by a man that knows little more than to blanket her in as much softness as he can muster. He tells her of the titanomachy, of the white tree, of anything to keep her entertained. His tongue does not shy from telling her that he loves her, too, often met with a shy glance or a soft giggle. Not outright disdain, and for now it feels enough.
She cries often, in longing for her mother and her friends, though never over this love she had never sought herself. Her loneliness only fuels her need for comfort. Selfishly, he believes that he’s saved the night she willingly wraps her arms around him, pulls him close and falls asleep nestled against his chest.
— — —
With the reliance on mortal offerings and Demeter’s anguish having been brought to light with seasons of failed harvests, it was only a matter of time before she was forced away from him. The months without her feel dreadful and empty, but he doesn’t dare disturb her while she walks the earth at her mother’s side. The agreement was beneficial for all of the gods and goddesses, and he knew better than to tread upon it by rushing to her like little more than a pleading dog. When winter took hold, bathing the lands in its icy touch and withering the plants she cherished and freezing over the rivers her nymphs played in, she would return to him as she must.
Each time is different. His beloved is not simply a thoughtless vessel as many of his subordinates. She is the most incredible thing he’s ever had the joy of meeting.
When she returns in tears, calling to him for his comfort he does not hesitate to kiss them all away and remind her that her summers will return and everything above will be just as it was on the day that he brought her below.
Sometimes, she’s angry, jealous even. She asks him often why he doesn’t come to see her while she’s away. He is her husband, after all. Was there anyone else in which he spent his nights with? Someone fairer than even she? The satisfaction of seating her on his cock, satisfying her as she does him on their shared throne far out rivals even ruling the domain itself. He would do anything to prove to her that she was his only; the sole thing he even thought of whilst her mind was filled with new songs and tales from the nymphs she spent her time away with.
Never has she returned with a gift.
Yet, she stumbles back into his realm clutching a small satchel, dripping with the scent of a juice sweet and familiar. A pleasant smile paints her features as she seats herself next to him on the throne. The bench of marble felt far too vast and dreadful to hold someone so delicate, the sight is something he’s grown accustomed to; emptiness is replaced with familiarity seeing her interact with anything here. It may not be home to her, but something in the way she looks to him— as she always had with tenderness, makes him question if a part of her sees him as home.
“I’ve brought something back for you,” she chimes as she pats her thigh.
Each time was different, but it had never been like this before.
He pulls himself to her side before slumping down to rest his head against her, tracing his fingertips along the length of her leg as his gaze drops almost sheepishly.
“Did you?”
She hums in reply, plucking one of the seeds from the satchel before slipping her hand beneath the veil to feed him. His lips part as he takes in the flavor of the aril, the honeyed taste almost akin to the look in her eyes.
“Just like…” She trails off for a moment as she lowers her head to press a kiss to the cheek of his veiled face. The delicate laugh that follows is unlike any he’s heard from her prior, it’s unique, saved solely for him.
“The six that I fed to you?” He asks her quietly, as he pulls himself away from her to meet her eyes directly. The air around them feels thick, loosely charged with a feeling that he can’t quite place; an intensity that he’s never felt before. Any groaning or wailing off in the abyss is silent now, just quiet words spoken.
Things have always felt warmer since her descent, but he’s learned to not expect anything more than she was willing to give. Still, hope cinches his heart tighter than it ever did prior. Even in battle, slaying his father alongside his brothers, he had never felt his heart race the way it does now.
She nods her head, opening up the satchel just wide enough to reveal the other five arils.
“I don’t think that I understand.”
“You should.”
He mulls over that for a moment before the fog finally clears. Any doubt that he had is remedied by a mere two words. He stares at her dumbly, searching her eyes for any hint that this is some horrible, cruel trick; that the implication is something he’s horribly misunderstood.
She couldn’t possibly come to love him… could she?
“To tie you to me,” she says softly.
The smile remains on her face when she closes the distance to kiss him. Not over the veil, but beneath it this time.
Her descent was one of a selfish longing, and his felt as though he was plunging into a world of flowers.
2K notes · View notes
tomblythismyhusband · 2 months
Note
hiiiii this is a request for billy!!!
what about a smutty fic where reader is riding billy while wearing his hat!? 🤍🤍
the only reason why i didn’t make this anon is so i can get the notif if you reply 😭😭
ride [billy the kid x fem!reader]
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[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | When at a party your father was throwing, you meet Billy, a cowboy that spikes your interest.
[warnings]: 18+ MDNI, teasing, pnv, fingering, language, other smut warnings yk, edited this at 2am
[wc]: 2.8k
[note]: thank you sm for the request!! y’all are creative
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You hated it when your father threw parties at the ranch. They always got too crowded, too loud, and way too dangerous. You see, cowboys and alcohol weren't always the best mix. Groping hands and lustful stares always came along with it. Your father always wanted you to be present at his little gatherings, to socialize or whatnot.
You dreaded small talk with the other girls present and weren’t interested in any of the drunken cowboys that always made fools of themselves trying to woo you. You stood there, arms crossed, pressed against the wall. Observing. The air was thick with smoke, the smell filling your lungs causing your nose to scrunch slightly.
“How’s it goin’ lil lady?” A voice sounded from your right, causing you to wince. You could practically smell the whiskey of the man’s breath without even turning to face him. Deciding to be polite you directed your attention to the man. It was a blonde cowboy. He was about 5’8”, not insanely tall but not short either. He had an unsettling feeling about him that made you feel immediately uncomfortable.
You gave him a strained smile. “It’s going well.”
The cowboy gave you a drunken smile, leaning his shoulder against the wall limply. “I like yer dress, lace is my favorite. Why… ain't you just a doll.”
You kept your smile, your cheeks hurting with tension at the forced action. “Thank you.” You replied, giving a curt nod.
The man drew closer, making your chest pump with anxiety. You always hated when men thought they could invade your space just because you were a woman. You took a slight step back causing the man to let out a low chuckle.
“You nervous doll? I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You know if you’d follow me I know a nice place we can… well you know….” He slurred, drawing one of his hands up to touch one of the strands of hair cascading over your shoulders. You jolted back, immediately slamming into someone.
Firm hands placed themselves on your shoulders as you ran into whoever it was. You turned your head, looking up quickly. “I’m sor-“
Your eyes connected with the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. You hadn’t thought the phrase “taking your breath away” was true until this moment. You couldn’t breathe. The man before you was gorgeous. Soft brown curls peaked out from under his hat that he wore, framing the sharp angles of his face nicely. The light freckles on his face indicating he’d been in the sun.
“You ok?” He said in a low voice, snapping you out of your trance. You glanced at the blonde cowboy who was still staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. The brown haired cowboy cocked an eyebrow, noticing your discomfort and pleading eyes. He cleared his throat and stared at the blonde man.
“Were you botherin’ my lady?” He asked accusingly towards the man, stepping slightly in front of you. God he was tall.. he seemed to tower over you. The blonde cowboy’s face immediately paled.
“N-no I wa-“ He stuttered.
“No? Then get the fuck out of here.” The brown haired cowboy snapped.
The blonde cowboy gave an incoherent mumble before storming away. You released the breath you were holding in and looked up at the gorgeous man who had just helped you.
“Thank you. I hate talking to men like that.” You sighed. The man laughed. (which made you realize how perfect his lips were as well)
“Men like that?” He chuckled.
You nodded. “Always too drunk and grabby all the time. No respect for anyone’s space.” You made a face of disgust that made the man before you flash another lopsided grin.
“Well.. anytime.” He gave you a smile “What’s your name?” The man asked, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms. He stepped back, respectfully giving you room to talk. The action alone made your heart thump as your eyes trailed up his body. Even through his shirt you could tell he had some muscle to him.
“Oh- Uhm.. Y/n. Y/n Charles.” You nodded.
The man’s eyes widened. “Oh so this is your ranch? Your father’s always throwin’ parties like this huh?”
You gave him a weak smile. “Yep.. fun right?” You said sarcastically.
He let out another chuckle before looking at you again.
“Billy.” He said lowly, slightly bowing his head.
You tilted your head. Where had you heard that name before? You tried to jog your memory but it was no use. Maybe you had heard your father talking about him, or maybe some girls down at the salon.
“Billy..” You repeated, smiling up at him. “I like it.”
Billy chuckled. “Glad you like it.”
It was weird talking with Billy. You felt a bubble of desire in your stomach that you had never felt when talking to any other man. Now all of a sudden you were imagining his hands on your body, his lips on yours. You thought of his hair, wondering how it would feel if you’d drag your fingers through it.
You stared up at him, and he stared back. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was almost as if you both had an understanding. An understanding of mutual attraction. Billy wet his lips.
He leaned a bit closer, his scent filling your nose. “I know we just met but… your intrestin’ to me.” He said in a low voice.
A small smile pulled at your mouth. “I could say the same…”
Billy leaned in even closer, breath brushing the outside of your ear gently as he spoke. “We could go to your room.. get to know each other better?” His voice was rough, full of unsaid desires that made your heart palpate.
“Are you implying something a lady should be ashamed to talk about?” You teased in a whisper. Billy let out a low chuckle.
“Is that where your mind is at?” He taunted, meeting your gaze. You reached up your fingers and dragged them against the brim of his hat.
“Would it be bad if it was?” You smiled, cocking your head slightly. Billy smirked. He liked how playful you were being.
Billy’s hand found yours and he squeezed it gently, pulling you closer to him. “No… It wouldn’t.” He murmured, making your breath quicken.
You made a little tsk sound and pulled away from him. “You think I’m that easy?” You chuckled. “Nice try cowboy.” You cooed, tapping the tip of his nose playfully. Billy’s eyes widened briefly before his mouth pulled into a smirk.
“Your decision darlin’… See ya, gorgeous.” He tipped his hat then turned to walk away. You watched as he sauntered back into the crowds of people. You bit your lip as your mind replayed the interaction you just had with him. He had called you gorgeous. You couldn’t deny the fact that you found him insanely attractive- perfect even. Why were you playing hard to get? You weren’t sure why.
You continued to roam about the party, talking mindlessly with the ladies there. You tried your hardest to stay engaged in the conversations but your thoughts were still on Billy. Would it be so bad to fool around with him? Even if it was just for tonight? You couldn’t ignore the pulsing feeling in your core when you thought about it. Fuck it.
You excused yourself from whatever and whoever you were talking about quickly and started to glance around for Billy. It was still insanely crowded in the house, causing you to have to constantly say “excuse me” just to get anywhere. You searched the living room for his blue eyes but he wasn’t there. You felt a pang of fear that he had just decided to leave.
Gracefully, you slipped out of the living room and started to make your way down one of the dark hallways of your home. It was empty. The loud clamoring of the party was still heard as you walked, heels clicking on the creaking floorboards.
The bathroom door was also in this hall. You heard it open and turned. There he was.
“Billy-“ You said breathlessly. Billy’s mouth quirked up into a smirk.
“Y/n. Nice to see you again.” He joked.
You walked closer to him, tilting your head up to make eye contact. “Do you want to….”
“Yes.” He replied roughly, cutting you off before you could even finish. He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall and up the stairs, causing you to let out a little chuckle.
Once reaching the top of the stairs, you led the way, guiding him to your bedroom door. You opened it quickly. Billy was the first to step inside, pulling you in after him and immediately shutting the door. He looked around for a moment, taking note of what kind of girl you were. Your bed was made, the room tidy, and flower patterns on almost anything.
“Like it?” You teased, meeting his piercing gaze. He chuckled.
“Darlin’ do you have the key for the lock?”
You nodded quickly, striding over to your beside table to dig for the key in one of the drawers. Once found, you hurriedly locked the door with a simple click.
Upon hearing the sound Billy instantly grabbed your hips and pushed you up against the door. You dropped the key onto the ground, not caring where it ended up. You just wanted Billy right now.
You felt Billy’s bulge pressed into you, making you gasp. By no means were you a virgin- but you weren’t used to this.
“Fuck doll…” Billy rasped. “I don’t know how respectable I can be to you right now..” His grip on your hips tightened. Billy was restraining himself. Even though all he wanted to do right now was to tear off every piece of lacy cloth you were wearing he was holding himself back. You snaked your hands up to place themselves on his shoulders.
“Don’t hold back- I’m all yours tonight.” Before you could even get the last word out, his lips were on yours. The reassurance was helpful, making Billy feel as if you really wanted this. Which you did. Desperately.
Billy’s lips worked against yours with a roughness you’d never known you’d liked. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, pulling you flush against his lips even more. He tasted sweet, the softness of his mouth making you almost melt into him.
He still had his hat on- which you didn’t mind, you liked it. You soon felt his fingers leave your hips and neck and trail down and move to your back, where the laces of your corset were. His hands moved quickly, untying it with ease. You lifted your arms up and broke the kiss as he pulled it off of you and threw it to the side.
His hands then pulled at your dress as you took his lips back onto yours, unbuttoning and buttons needed and letting it slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. He parted from your lips to look down at the lacy cami and cloth shorts you were left in.
“Darlin’ you're just too much.” He groaned, his hands cupping your ass.
You smirked up at him and moved your hand to slide down one of his suspenders. “Let me see you.”
He complied instantly and started to tear off his clothes. When he lifted his shirt you could help but gasp. He was toned, muscled, scarred, perfect. He threw his shirt to the side and you reached a hand to trace a faint scar on his abdomen.
“Knife fight.” He said softly as he unzipped his pants, loving how curious you were. Your hands felt soft on his body, so gentle.
Your eyes flicked up to his. “You're perfect.” Billy chuckled at this, pulling your body closer to his as his pants fell to the ground.
“You're one to talk. I’ve ain’t never seen anyone as gorgeous as ya..” He reached up to take off his hat, but before he could throw it aside you grabbed it.
“Darlin what-?”
“Shh….” You coaxed, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. You pushed him gently to sit, and he immediately complied, liking this side of you. You put on the hat with a giggle and shimmied out of your cotton shorts. Billy’s cock twitched in his underwear at the sight. It felt like you were torturing him, depriving him of the touch he starved for.
Next you slid off your cami, letting your breasts sit nicely on your figure, throwing that to the side as well. You stepped forward and bent down slightly to place a palm on Billy’s bulge. He immediately let out a pained moan. “Your tourturin’ me doll.”
You giggled as you ran your other hand down his shoulder. “I could go even slower.” You teased.
Then unexpectedly Billy grabbed your hips and pulled you onto him, causing your let out a yelp of surprise. Billy immediately places his lips on one of your nipples, kissing and swirling his tongue around the area.
“No fair.” You gasped. His hands ran all over your body, as well as his lips.
Billy let out a chuckle, the voice sending a vibrating feeling through your body. “Another second and I would’ve gone crazy darlin’.”
You melted under his touch, his calloused fingertips adding to the realness of his hands. You pulled your fingers through his hair as he kissed your collarbones.
“I need more.” You whined.
Billy smirked. “And to think you had brushed me off the first time I offered this to you down stairs…..”
“Please-“ You begged again. Billy cupped your ass in response to lift you off of his lap so he could yank down the only fabric of his boxers separating him from your cunt.
You looked down at his cock as you straddled him. It was big, you’d never seen one this big before. You bit your lip, Billy squeezed your hips and kissed your jaw.
“Ready darlin’…” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded and he lifted you up, positioning your body over his throbbing cock. You sunk down letting out a strained moan as he filled you up. You were now sitting entirely on him, stretching out the walls of your soaked cunt.
“Take me s’good.” Billy rasped as you started to grind your hips. One of your hands flew up to hold Billy’s hat that still was placed snug on your head. You were so wet he slid right in, no issue. You slowly began to move up and down with Billy assisting you by lifting your hips.
You tilted your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, still keeping the hat on your head. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you moved. Billy picked up the pace, slamming you harder down onto his cock rhythmically.
“Fuck-“ You whimpered as he let out a groan.
“Ride me so good..” He mumbled. His own head was limp as he moved you faster and faster on his cock. Right now you were perfect. So tight. Molded perfectly for him. Your free hand dug into his shoulder. The nail marks left on him would be deep by the end of this.
You rode him harder as tears prickled in your eyes. Every time he slammed into you your body vibrates with pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your g-spot with precision.
Billy took one of his hands off your hips and moved it to start massaging circles on your clit, adding to the pleasure. You paused your moment for a moment, not expecting the added stimulation. You head slumped onto Billy’s shoulder, body shaking.
You felt Billy’s mouth brush against your ear. "C' mon darlin’.. I’m almost there… You're doing so well.” He praised.
You gave a weak nod and started to move again, a throaty moan escaping Billy’s lips. With his fingers on your clit and his cock slamming your walls you were in heaven.
“Almost there doll.” He groaned again, kissing your neck as you moved on him, your stamina decreasing by the second. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, a sign that you were getting closer.
“Billy-“ You breathed, arching your back, holding his hat still firm on your head.
“I know darlin’, I know..” He murmured as he closed his eyes and let his mouth fall open. You watched as he came, filling your already overstimulated cunt with his cum. Your orgasm hit you as well, sending your body into a fit of shakiness.
You became still, his cock still throbbing with pleasure as you clung to him, your bodies slick with sweat. Billy brushed some of your hair from your forehead and kissed it.
“I like how you kept my hat on.” Billy smirked, looking down at you. “Suits ya.”
You let out a breathless chuckle. “Thank you.”
You tilted your head up to kiss his soft lips. He seemed so tender now, so gentle.
Finally after a while of kissing you slid off of him, cum dripping down your thighs.
“When can I see you again Y/n?” He drawled, holding your waist so you were still close to him.
“Anytime you want to get your hat back.” You teased.
Billy’s eyebrows raised with amusement. “You keepin’ it?”
You kissed his nose. “It’s mine now.”
452 notes · View notes
themotherofhorses · 1 year
Text
pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. nsfw smut. lactation kink. breeding kink. mentions of previous pregnancies. absolute fluffy and simpy shit because aemond is head-over-heels for his handmaid.
notes: okay so no one asked for this shit, but please enjoy this lil smutty drabble I randomly decided to whip up before my pilates. thanks. love y'all. mwuah.
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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Prince Aemond prefers his nighttime baths with heat.
It is something you’ve learned as his personal handmaid.
“Mine is the house of the dragon,” he once told you while watching you fill-up the bath with hot water from the kitchen. It was your first night acting as his servant, and you were terrified of making any foolish mistake. But there was a proud smirk on his lips when he said it and a strange gleam in his eye too. You had mentioned your fear of accidentally burning the prince aloud, and he shook his head at that, demanding a hot bath. “It can never be too hot for a Targaryen. The fire is in my blood, sweet girl.”  
And now you empty the last of the hot kitchen water into the tub, slowly running your fingers through the water before reaching for the fragrant oils- new ones from Essos, gifted to the family by an old Tyroshi merchant. The older prince liked the way they smelled. So did you.
Soon comes a soft knock at the door. “Is my bath ready?” Prince Aemond asks, standing beneath the archway. He is without his leather eyepatch, and his sapphire catches the dim candle lighting. You stand to your feet and bow your head, nodding. “Good,” he mumbles, tugging his cotton tunic over his head and unbuttoning his pants, “I trust it is still hot?”
“Yes, my prince, just the way you like. I had just finished scenting the waters before you arrived,” you say, taking his hand to help him into the tub. True to your words, the water is scalding hot, but Aemond neither flinches nor cries out; instead, he sighs in delight as he sinks himself further into the water. You wash his long, silver-pale hair and gently comb out the tangles and snags, all in silence as he keeps his head tilted and eyes closed.
It is a soft moment, intimate and peaceful, and you notice the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Do you wish for me to wash your back as well, my prince?” you ask.
He shakes his head.
When his hair is clean, you sit back and gently undo the knot around your neck that holds up your plain servant’s gown. Aemond twists to watch as the cloth falls down your shoulders, leaving you bare and beautiful before his very eye. He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from your breasts, still heavy with milk and incredibly sensitive and soft and heavenly to behold. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you close to bury his face within your chest.
“You are so beautiful,” he hums, glancing up at you while brushing a finger against your swollen nipple. “The most beautiful woman in the world,” and he brings it to his hot mouth, sucking at it. You gasp, entangling your hand in his wet hair as you press his face closer, arching your back. His hand tweaks and pinches your other nipple, stirring a flood of high-pitched, loud moans and whimpers. “Beautiful and all fucking mine,” he slaps at your breast- once, twice, three times before switching his mouth to suckle there. Your milk soon floods his mouth, and the delicious taste leaves his poor, aching cock too hard and damned painful for him to ignore.
Aemond has you suddenly on your feet, flushed and trembling, poor knees ready to buckle at any second, before guiding you into the bath. Like him, you do not flinch or wince from the heat, and it makes him so fucking proud, settling you over him and grabbing at your hips, too impatient, wanting nothing more than to sink himself into you.
“My seed has done you well,” he blusters in awe, marveling at your beauty. “My sons have given you their fire as well, it seems.”
You smile, rocking your hips back and forth. “I am merely your humble servant, my prince,” you giggle, dropping your face low to collect his lips in a hot, wet kiss. Meanwhile, your thighs shake, and your pretty face soon scrunches up in pure bliss as you take his fat cock deep in your belly with little bounces. “Who am I to deny my prince…!” you gasp out, gripping his shoulders as he wraps his own arms tight around you, jackhammering into your pussy. It causes water to splatter outside the tub in tiny puddles.
“No,” he grunts, sliding a hand up to your neck to press you downwards as close to him as possible. Your forehead flattens against his as you do your best to match his thrusts, eyes locking with his. Aemond’s stare- it is intense and passionate, and you cannot break away. “No,” he repeats through a hiss, knotting his other hand within your damp hair, feeling your heavy breasts brushing against his chest. “Not just a-a fucking servant,” he says, slipping a hand between your thighs to find your clit with his thumb, “You’re my fucking everything. All fucking mine. Imma put another babe in your belly so that everyone fucking knows who you belong to.”
Aemond looks down to see the slightest bulge of his cock, pushing in and out of your soaking cunt. You hiccup, pretty eyes red and teary and glazed-over as you nod feverishly, kissing him again. “Please-please-please-please,” you babble, heavy pants against his mouth as you unashamedly plead and beg and cry, “I-I want- I need it- please, please, I need it again.”
His thrusts quicken at the mental image of you with another swollen belly, trailing after him as his devoted and sweet handmaid. Once again, you’ll be glowing with motherhood, absolutely gorgeous, leaving lowborn bastards to stare at him with sheer envy. “People are going to look at you, my sweet girl,” he pants, his thrusts growing sloppily as he feels himself ready to cum. “They’re gonna know that babe in your belly is mine. All mine. Your back is gonna ache, and your tits will leak, and it will be because of me.”
His hot mouth glides across your jawline, down to your neck, leaving countless bites and bruises. You’re much too beautiful like this. “I want our next one to look just like you,” he mutters, pinching your clit between two fingers. You shriek, flinging your head back at the pleasure spiking up your spine. “Can you do that for me, sweet girl? My lady, my love. Give me a babe that looks like you?” He slams his mouth down on yours again in a heavy and wet kiss, sucking on your tongue.
When he pulls away, his fingertips run across your bottom lip as he leans to kiss your forehead, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock. A new babe will soon join his precious twins sleeping in the nursery. He smiles at the thought. “I want a daughter,” he whispers, “-who looks exactly like my pretty handmaid so that the entire fucking world knows how much I love her.”  
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florence-end · 10 months
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Worst kept secret
Azriel x fem!reader
Warnings: Az is a lil high on pain meds. Sickeningly sweet fluff.
Summary: Your mate gets hurt on a mission and the healers give him something for the pain. Combined with the concussion, he starts acting a bit strangely when you walk in.
“Cassian, if you don’t fly faster, I will find Bryaxis myself and let him move into your bedroom. MOVE!” you screeched in the warlord’s ear as he swooped up to the House of Wind at full speed.
“Will you relax? Rhys said he’s going to be completely fine in a couple of days and Madja has already finished seeing to him. Az has come home in way worse states before,” Cassian huffed as he dropped down to land on the balcony outside the dining room.
Logically, you knew he was right but that didn’t stop you from breaking into a run the second your feet touched the floor. Hurtling through the house, you made it to your mate’s old bedroom in seconds and barely stopped yourself before you crashed headfirst into your high lord as he slipped through the bedroom door to greet you.
“Is he okay? Is he awake? Is Madja still here? Does he have a concussion? Did you find the people who ambushed him?” You rattled off your list of burning questions, and caught amusement flashing in Rhysand’s eyes as he quirked up an eyebrow.
“Hm let me see… yes, yes, no, yes and yes. In that order,” he chuckled before resting a hand on your shoulder as Cassian finally caught up to you. “He’s going to be absolutely fine, dear sister. Madja thinks he was only unconscious for a matter of minutes and his concussion will be gone by tomorrow. She’s given him a tonic to help with the pain so he’s a little woozy but he’ll be very pleased to see you as he always is.”
“I tried to tell you,” Cassian muttered but you had already opened the bedroom door and slipped into the room.
Azriel was sitting up in the centre of the large bed, pillows arrange comfortably behind his back and blankets draped up to his chest. His wings were spread out either side of him, far more relaxed than he would usually allow while awake. His shadows pooled across the pillows, barely moving as though they too had been medicated.
He looked up as you entered the room and you gave him a big smile as you approached. Az, however, didn’t smile back and the three of you watched as his mouth fell slack and his eyes widened.
“Honey, are you okay? Are you in pain? We can get Madja to come straight back,” you fretted, your hands fluttering over him helplessly as he just watched you. You settled on holding his hand, and that seemed to snap him out of his stupor.
“No no no I’m fine, sorry. Um hi,” he stuttered, in a very un-Azriel way.
“You sure Az? You weren’t that pale when I left,” Rhys commented.
The two Illyrians made eye contact and you saw Rhys’ eyes unfocus the way they always did when he was having a conversation in someone’s mind. First, he looked concerned, then confused, then a delighted and amused grin spread across his face.
“You should tell her, Az,” he declared out loud.
“Tell me what?” You asked, glancing back and forth between your mate’s face, flush with embarrassment, and the high lord’s smirk. You could tell he was speaking to Cassian mind-to-mind now.
“Tell me what??” You asked again, getting frustrated at whatever secret the brothers were keeping from you.
“Um, I don’t know if you can feel it. You probably can’t which is absolutely fine and I don’t expect anything from you but I just have to tell you so that you know…” Azriel was… rambling? The male who preferred to say as few words as possible, even around his family most of the time, had turned into a complete chatterbox due to whatever pain relieving tonic he’d been given.
“Azriel, sweetheart, just tell me,” you encouraged, frowning in concern.
“When you walked in just now, I felt the mating bond snap. You’re my mate,” Azriel whispered, looking down at his hands where they rested on the blankets.
Well now you were very confused. You and Azriel had accepted the mating bond years ago. You lived together in your own townhouse in Velaris; you had a garden, and a mug collection, and matching his-and-hers aprons in the kitchen. You vacationed in Adriata together last month. Had he forgotten all of that?
It’s only temporary, the memories are all there and will probably come flooding back when you tell him.
Rhys spoke his reassurance into your mind and you realised all three of them were waiting for your response.
“Honey I know we’re mates. We had our ceremony by the lake up near the cabin, don’t you remember? Cassian cried like a baby the whole day,” you reminded him.
“Hey, you don’t need to give him all the details!” Cassian objected but he was quickly shushed by Rhys.
Azriel’s face lit up as he mulled over your words. “We did? Was it beautiful? You deserve a beautiful mating ceremony,” he asked earnestly.
“So beautiful, you and your brothers and Lucien spent hours setting everything up perfectly outside, and Elain covered the whole place with the loveliest flowers, and Nesta, Feyre and Mor found everyone the perfect outfits. Amren even let me wear her favourite diamond earrings. It was the perfect day,” you promised, resting your hand on his cheek.
“That sounds nice. Do we live together?” He asked, looking hopeful. You brushed his hair off his forehead and sat down on the bed beside him. His shadows flowed around to accommodate your movements.
“Yes we do. You bought us a townhouse down in the city, right near the Rainbow,” you smiled at the memory of him handing you the key for the first time.
“And I take care of you? And keep you safe? You’re not scared of my hands or my shadows?” He wondered. Your face hurt from smiling so much as he aired his concerns. Tears welled in your eyes to see how much love he had for you, even when he couldn’t quite recall all your shared memories right now.
“Does she look like a lady that’s scared of you Az? You take great care of her, we’d have kicked your ass long ago if you didn’t. She takes care of you too. You’re sickeningly in love, I promise,” Cassian assures his brother. With that, the two uninjured Illyrians wave their goodbyes and go to leave, promising to check on him later.
Azriel looks up at you happily once you’re alone, grasping the hand that still rests on the side of his face. He pulls you to lie against him and tucks a wing around you so you can’t get up.
“You ready to get some sleep, handsome?” You murmur as you wrap your arm across his waist and press a kiss to his shoulder.
“Will you be here when I wake up? Will I remember everything?” He asks, squeezing you impossibly closer to him as if you might disappear.
“I promise,” you whisper back, and begin to hum a soft melody to lull him to sleep.
Was this cheesy? Yes. Did I write this for my own selfish reasons? Also yes. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!
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awniie · 4 months
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Your husband Namani ୨ৎ ⠂°⠄🕯
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little piece about namani kento as your smitten hubby (was supposed to be drabble + headcannons but i got a lil carried away)
(i gave up after a while but i wanted to post something)
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content: female!reader , light smut , p in v , housewife reader , lowercase + ass writing skills lmao , virgin!reader , not proof read , pathetic attempt at fluff
nanami kento who’d you married a couple months ago, and you couldn’t be happier with. He was your dream man, caring, loving thoughtful, and just perfect. The time you guys first interacted was something straight out of a christmas hallmark movie. You two met at a fancy restaurant that you worked at. He had been attending a business meeting that had been horribly dull until he laid his eyes on you. The way the work so dutifully for the large party, you seemed so outgoing and friendly. Never complaining nor making a single grimace. (because you knew they had money and you needed that extra tip ) Regardless, he had a respect for women who worked hard. Of course, the way your uniform skirt hugged at the swell of your thighs was attention-stealing enough. He’d had caught your eye as well. His honey-blonde hair, the size of his biceps, and his stoicism is what initially drew you in. “And what would you like to drink sir?” You asked him, voice sugared and smile perfected just for men like him. “W-water.” Kento stuttered, sharp eyes suddenly clouded, drifting over your smaller frame. He cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “Water, please.” He reiterated himself with a monosyllabic tone. Yeah, he was the one.
nanami kento worked up the nerves to write his number below the check signature. He handed the tray back to you, and cleared his throat as you noticed his number along with “come with me to dinner?” written in a neat cursive. You gave him a coy smile and tucked the note into the thin pocket of your apron. “I’d love too.” You told him, waving goodbye to the table. The blond found himself staring after you, warm blush dusted across his pale cheeks. The rest was history as they might say. You guys dating for a couple years, getting to know each other, discovering new things together, and building the blueprint of your upcoming future.
nanami kento who after marrying you, started to care less and less about his job. It was the sole thing he lived for before, taking up his time, energy and thoughts . But now his focus was elsewhere. It was on a woman who he’d met at a restaurant, a woman with her own identity with uniqueness interests and a personality that belonged solely to her. A woman he somehow manage to catch. You were the woman he would treat as his most prized possession, keeping his loving hold steady over you for as long as he could.
nanami kento who before you, woke up at 5; got dressed by 6 and was at work by 7 had tweaked his morning schedule to fit his now married life. He’d set his phone alarm to go off at 6, but would you blame him? He’d need the extra time to rot the morning away with his new wife :( You’d be pressed against his back, arms enclosed around his chest with your sleepy head neatly tucked into the warmth of his neck. He didn’t mind you being the bigger spoon, it just made getting up in the mornings so, so much harder. As he reluctantly tried to pry himself from your relentless grip, nanamni could feel your long, soft lashes flutter against his neck. “Namani…t’s too earlyyy…” you’d drawl, jaw heavy and mouth dry from your sleep. He’d pull himself away even harder, but you were strong and kept his large body flush against your smaller one. “i have to go work today…” he’d whisper to you, which he knew you were aware of this, it was just the routine you’d guys go through every morning. You didn’t respond to his comment, hoping it would mean he’d stay longer. Namani smiled and let you snuggle against him more. He knew how you were though, you’d be greedy for maybe another 10 minutes more before you felt guilty and release your relentless grip on him. “Fine, jus’ go to work.” You’d mutter, sleepy face creased into a bothered expression. Nanami got up from the bed, but not before wrapping the blanket around you and giving your temple a kiss.
nanami kento who would deal with all your troubles and tribulations. Whenever you were on your period, he was like your knight in shining armor (or in a blue collar button-up) the entire week, he’d make your favorite meals when he arrived home by 3:30. Namani would wrap you in as many blankets as you wanted, picking you up and gently placing you on the couch. If you wanted him to stay, he’d stay right by your side, rubbing your back and peppering your face with kisses until you fell asleep. other times you wanted to be left alone and if you did, he would move to a separate room in the cozy house you guys shared, doing laundry, cleaning or whatever domestic chores that would fill your day. After about an hour, you’d always feel lonely and cried from him to come hold you, which he would come running quickly to your aid. (Also to avoid finishing washing the dishes)
nanami kento who made it his life goal to be able to please and provide for you his wife. He convinced you to quit your job. “I rather have you making dinner for just me then a bunch of wealthy assholes.” Kento would comment. You liked being his little housewife who didn’t have much to do. You were both relatively neat people, so they’re wasn’t much cleaning to do. Which you did love to do was cook. Experimenting with recipes you found on Pinterest and surprising your husband when he got home. “Look what i made for dinner, creamy garlic pasta! I found the recipe on Pinterest and it thought you’d like it” You took him by his large forearm and lead him to the kitchen where you had two plates full of the pasta as well as a lit candle and twin drinks. To you, this was just a cozy dinner. For him it was the best way to be welcomed home after a stressful day of work. The amount of thought and time put into the meal was overwhelming to him and he almost shed a tear. When he didn’t say anything, you frowned and thought he didn’t like it. “Ken, is something wrong?” Your voice was shaky and your eyes glassy. Nanami snapped out of his head and took you into an embrace. “No, no. Nothings wrong love, just a little emotional.” You laughed, thinking it was funny how he got emotional over food, but you found it cute. “Let’s eat then now, okay dear?” He’d suggest, blushing at your giggles while pulling out the chair for you to sit in. Of course, in return for any errands or houseworks, Nanami would reward you in anything else. It was only fair, he thought. New clothes? He’d take you to the expensive outlet malls he knew you loved. A new hobby that you wanted to start? He’d pay for anything you’d need plus support you through it (even if you gave up after a month) he’d never bring up your failed ventures either, knowing that it brought you joy in the few moments and he lived for that. Whenever the daily life bored you, Nanami would take you out an adventures. Sometimes it was something as simple as visiting the local farmers market. Others were first class trips around the world. (Malaysia being his personal favorite.) Sometimes, people would make comments on how “he’s spoiling you too much” or “she’ll get bored of you eventually and move to the richer guy,” but Nanami brushed those words carelessly. “I’m not spoiling her,” he’d reply coolly . “I’m reimbursing her for all the work and time she puts into me. My wife does nice things for me, and I do nice things for her.”
namani kento who could please his wife in other ways as well. If there was one thing namani did efficiently was fcking you. You’d both waited until marriage and boy, was it worth it. Namami had the gift of duality when it came to pleasing you. From his mouth, he murmured praises and loving words into your ears. From his body, unrelenting and hungry thrusts assaults on your virgin pussy. Both such drastic differences from his stoicism.“Doing so good for me love, taking me so well.” He’d compliment you causally, as if he wasn’t pumping 8 inches into you. “N-nanami, t’s too much, slow down p-please..” you’d beg, salty tears streaming down your face unto your neck, where’d he’d kiss them away. Namanin never knew how much prettier you could be, especially all sweaty and teary-eyed, but that’s just more of an excuse to do this more often. He caressed your cheek, smiling faintly at your fcked-out expression. You were doing so good for him, especially for your first time, you were just having a little hiccups. “You can take it, cmon just hold out a little longer for me, please? I promise you’ll feel so, so good.” And he kept his promise. Not long after you felt a string being cut in your stomach, causing your voice to go up in octaves and your eyes to screw themselves shut. Your pussy was glistening, covering in your juices and his as well. He didn’t pull out of you yet, and you didn’t want him too. You wanted to savor the feeling of being completely full, of being connected in the deepest way possible with your other half. After what seemed like hours of and bodies melding together. Namani wiped away a single remaining tear and kiss you on your flushed lips.“See, told you it’d be worth it, you did so well. I love you so much y/n.”
“I l-love you too kento.”
END
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lizardaggro · 6 months
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on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 2
the first part is doing way better than i thought it would, so here's part 2! please note that i won't normally put stuff out this fast, but i got woken up by tumblr notifs and only got 2.5 hrs of sleep. if this is trash, that's my excuse. also working on something for bnha, but that sucker's looong.
part 1 part 3
genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, lil bit of yandere word count: 1082
The look on their faces was hilarious, to say the least. Adeuce were in shock, and Floyd looked like a kicked puppy. Not that you made a habit of that. It was a shame that you couldn’t hole up in here a little while longer, and you knew the door would take ages to get repaired, but it would be fine. The sudden shift in your attitude would still be jarring.
“Wha- prefect, what’re you talking about?” Ace asked incredulously. Deuce nodded vigorously in agreement. The two had been your first friends in Twisted Wonderland, after Grim of course, and then the first to turn on you once they got bored. You supposed it was just too much for their pea brains to bear.
“Did I stutter?” Your gaze was cold as you looked both in the eye in turn. “Every day, the poor defenseless prefect is beaten, abused, and scorned. And all for what? Your entertainment? You lot are sick in the head and it shows,” you berated them mercilessly. It’s not like you expected them to have a sudden change of heart. You wouldn’t forgive them even if they did.
Floyd had been silent since demolishing your poor door, which could be good or bad. You’d always found him hard to read. His mood could change at the drop of a hat, and you knew you weren’t his only victim. For all you knew, he’d start whaling on Adeuce instead.
And then he just had to go and open his mouth. “Aww, that’s cute, Shrimpy. You think you can get rid of me?” He taunted. Now that was a threat, and you knew it. Still, you never thought any of your former friends would describe anything you did as cute now. It was meant to be mocking, but still. Something about his demeanor was off. He seemed almost… hurt.
Nah, there was no way. You must be imagining things. There was no way Floyd Leech, of all people, enjoyed your company. You were alone here; Grim and the ghosts were your only allies. You shook your head to clear away the unwanted thoughts.
You turned to face Floyd, a sinister grin working its way onto your face. “Oh, whyever would I want to do that? I can do so much better, after all. I mean, who’s the one who told me all their dirty little secrets they’d never want to see the light of day, back when we were friends? Because of course the innocent little prefect would never dream of snitching!”
You weren’t bluffing. You didn’t have to. It was true, after all. Each and every one of them had confided in you to some extent, the Overblot victims most of all. You knew e~verything that ailed them, and it would be oh-so unfortunate if their less-than-kind peers were to find out. It wasn’t like you wanted to play the villain card, but you felt you had the right. They’d already betrayed you, so why shouldn’t you return the favor?
The three boys’ faces visibly paled after hearing your words. Everyone had something to hide after all, and they were no exception. Deuce had been one of the first to trust you with his secrets, as well as one of the most forthcoming. Back then you’d thought he was such a sweetheart; you never would’ve dreamed it’d come to this.
“Come on, surely you don’t mean that?” He begged. It was pitiful, really.
“Oh, I absolutely mean it if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.” No one at Night Raven College had ever heard you curse before, so it must’ve been a shock. Your voice was cold as you crushed their hope. No one had ever listened to you when you pleaded for them to please stop hurting you.
Once convinced that you really meant business, they promptly turned tail and fled. You didn’t blame them. You’d be embarrassed too if you still slept with a teddy bear. But this was good- great, even. Now you had the chance to put the next phase of your plan in action.
You’d start off simple, with a warning, in case someone didn’t think you were serious enough. You logged onto the school’s messaging forum, and anonymously exposed some poor random guy whose name you’d forgotten’s crush. Who also attended NRC, of course. It wouldn’t be much of a threat if no one knew who they were.
Not long after, there was a rapt knock on your door, or rather the adjacent wall. Thanks, Floyd. When you headed downstairs to greet your unwanted guest, you were mildly surprised to see Riddle Rosehearts, there in all his glory.
“Riddle? What brings you here? Are you going to blame me for not knowing the history of countries I’d never heard of until this year again?” You jabbed. Riddle was never one for physical violence; his Unique Magic didn’t work on you since you had none to begin with. Instead, he chose to belittle you for your lack of knowledge.
“I heard from Ace and Deuce that you’ve been airing students’ dirty laundry on the internet,” he said with a stern look. “I’m sure you’re well aware that this behavior is unacceptable.” Two could play at that game.
“Yes, Dorm Leader Rosehearts, and I’m sure you know full well that several of your students are guilty of assault,” you rebutted, using his position within the school for emphasis. “So tell me, do you really want to go there? After all, it’d be a real shame if your mother were to hear about this.”
You really hoped his mother never heard about this. Him being abused would only make you feel worse, and it certainly wouldn’t correct his behavior. The most you’d do was “accidentally” let the whole school find out he’s secretly a crybaby.
Riddle’s face grew as red as Unbirthday party roses. “You dare to threaten me?! I’d have your head if you had any magic worth sealing! But you don’t, so you’re lucky I even bother to tolerate your presence. I don’t even want to think about what your grades would look like if it wasn’t for my help.”
You really didn’t think shouting at you qualified as helping. But once again, there was that odd tone to his words, like he was implying that he wanted you around. There was no way Riddle of all people would agree to play some elaborate prank on you, so just what was going on?
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raitonsfw · 3 months
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𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | Nagito was obsessed with your pussy, the slick that leaked from it, and the graces of hope that poured from your precious lips. | 2 | Nagito absolutely adored you – in all of your flowered expressions – and for valentine's day, you both picked out the perfect position for the two of you. | 3 | Maybe Nagito shouldn't of been so condescending during the first trial, because now he was tied up within your grasp and it seemed like you'd never touch him– even if he begged. | 4 | When you first met Nagito, you couldn't stop staring at him– and his thighs that smoothed under his shorts. Now he's lying back for you... letting you do as you please.
warnings: 18+ mdni, fem! reader, smut... | 1 | pussy worship, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm (reader), petnames (honey, my beautiful hope), nagito likes talking to your pussy. | 2 | lotus position, soft!nagito, loving, sensual, caring sex, orgasm (both), praises, petnames (honey, baby), nagito's a lil clingy, a bit more rough in the end but not by much. | 3 | tied up and submissive, sub!nagito, sdr2!nagito, begging & pleading, edging, mentions of sex toys, teasing, slight degrading, nagito begs for reader to touch him but is refused each time, allusion to first trial (no spoilers except his switch up). | 4 | thigh worship, boyfriend!nagito, body worship, massaging, licking, hickeys, handjob, masturbation, nagito lets you do whatever you want to his thighs as long as he can get off too, slight mention of scars (udg canon)
a/n: i tried to make them as blunt as possible tag wise so we know whose is who though everyone had a fairly different idea in their v-day thirsts so i think were good on that aspect. i had four in total for the lucky boy, making him my lead character. (honestly me too though, im obsessed with him so this wasnt much of a surprise) wc: 600ish each v-day m.list | m.list
thirst count: 4
divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics
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| 1 |
“Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” 
Nagito’s not talking about you– to you even, he’s between your legs. You looked down from where you were planted, laying amongst the soft blankets he had taken the courtesy to place between you and the mattress. His hair was disheveled, some of its white fluff sticking out in different directions on top before falling down against his shoulders in a pale cream. That wasn’t your doing, it was normally like that. But you wished it was your doing– the way he’d whimper out as you pulled on it made you see stars sometimes. But this wasn’t about him, it was about you– as you’re splayed out in front of him, waiting for him to make a luckful gesture.
You whined as his forefinger swiped through the collected arousal that stuck to your folds, but it didn’t push past your entrance and a quiet chuckle sounded from the edge of the bed as you clenched around nothing. 
“Ah, she’s crying for me…” He cooed, sucking his finger into the cavern of his mouth and he stared at you for a minute as you calmed yourself down again. “There we go… back to normal?” 
“N-Nagito… please do something.” You whimpered, your legs fully spread open and you could feel yourself leaking all over the gray blanket beneath you. Thankfully, you spurred him on a bit and he positioned himself eye level with your cunt now. 
“Patience.” He commanded softly, pressing a feathered kiss against your swollen clit. His eyes had fluttered shut with a quiet hum as he tasted you against his tongue, laving at the raised bud languidly. Pleasure washed over you as he finally caved in, after who knows how long– God, he was mean sometimes… all because he wanted to admire every crevice of your body, of your precious pussy.
You felt more of your slick pour out of you, into his open palm that he placed underneath you. Nagito tucked it slightly against your thighs and as the fluid spilled between his fingers, he pulled off your clit with a wet noise to focus on the glistening mess. “Oh, you’re so sensitive… I haven’t even fully touched you yet.”
You were quick to open your mouth, it was obvious he was still praising your leaking hole but as you went to object and plead for him to do something– anything, his fingers slipped inside thoughtfully. 
“She’s such a good girl for me…already squeezing the tips of my fingers– Ah!” Nagito let out a surprised sound, a doe look flushing his face, as you started to fuck down against his hand with utter desperation for anything he had to give you. “So needy… for someone like me? Thank you…”
He curled them upwards, grazing over your sweet spot and it took everything in you not to clasp your thigh shut around his arm from the sensation. You were so neurotic, your senses shot to dust as another chuckle echoed off his cottage walls. His other hand rested against your left thigh, it made you shiver as it was cold against your skin and you warmed up to the fact that he was soothing you– Nagito was rubbing soft circles into the flesh of it as he brought you to your high. 
“Go on, honey.” He was finally talking to you now, his gray eyes glancing up towards yours and you fell apart against his fingers. He cooed at you through it, soft remarks falling from his lips like ‘that’s it, my beautiful hope’ and ‘did so well, love you so much’ while your pent up arousal leaked all over his palm. You muffled your moan, the back of your hand pressing up against your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as you shuddered into his still caressing fingertips. 
It took you a minute to come down from your high and as you did, you noticed Nagito still hovering between your legs– his eyes devout of lust. 
“‘M going to clean you up now, hope you don’t mind.”
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| 2 |
“You okay?” Nagito asked you, his arms holding you close into his chest. His cock was nestled deep inside you as you huffed out a quiet sigh, adjusting to the position you two agreed upon. Your legs hugged his backside and you were utterly exposed in his eyes as they scanned over your face for any cause of concern. 
“Yeah, I’m okay baby.” You nodded with a small smile, bringing one of your hands from his shoulder to his cheek and you leaned in to press a poised kiss against his lips. Nagito hummed into the kiss, his fingertips trailing down your back lovingly as he further deepened the kiss. He hasn’t moved inside you yet, completely entranced in the intimacy that doused the both of you like a spell as both of your eyes had slipped shut– just reveling in the touch of one another. But when you grinded subtly against the length of his cock, he panted into your mouth and his hands slipped down to grab at your waist– an indication he needed to move inside you.
You made the first full move, gently lifting yourself up and planting back down in a gentle manner and he was putty within your arms. A quiet moan left his lips and he tilted his head back, which gave you access to litter his pale neck with hickeys. Nagito held you with one arm now as he leaned back, his other pressing into the mattress to stabilize his movements as he started thrusting up into you now. 
“Oh my God… Y/N– you feel so good…” He breathed out, his eyes opening and flickering down towards where you bruised a hickey into his collarbone and his hips stuttered into you as you bit down. You looked up at him through your lashes and he only moaned out more, trying to get you to bounce more on him now. You noticed how his hips rolled right into you, lazy– unhurried and it turned you on even more as you started to let out sounds of your own. 
His cock brushed against your sweet spot and your nerves stood straight up, tiny whimpers pouring out of your mouth now as you rocked down in time with his thrusts now. “Nagito– right there, please, do that again…”
“Whatever you want, honey.” His eyes were completely focused on you as you intertwined your hands around the back of his neck and you threaded your fingers into his hair. You pushed his head towards your neck, which he took the leisure to kiss at it– sucked a few marks down it as you bounced earnestly on him now. Every jolt of his cock sent you into a frenzy, your head burying deep in his precious hair to try to hide the fucked out look that spread on your face. 
It didn’t last long as he murmured against your skin ‘why’re hiding from me? come back down, i miss you…’ and his hands pulled you down by your shoulders, his cock nestling deep into you. You whimpered out as it pressed directly against your cervix and you could feel the dull pleasure within your tummy as you edged closer to your release. 
“C’mon, baby…” Nagito’s fingers traced the swell of your clit and you threw your head back, your walls nearly choking his cock as you came all over it. “T-That’s it, knew you’d do so good for me…” 
His thrusts had sped up, fucking you through your orgasm and he was practically bouncing you on his own now, chasing his climax with low groans leaving his lips. “Baby… ‘M so close– just a little more, you can take it.” 
His eyes screwed shut moments after and his jaw fell slack as he came in you, lazily pumping into you as he shuddered through his orgasm. Quiet breathy moans escaped him as you felt his cock twitch, his fingers gripping the back of your shoulders in a close hug. 
“Love you lots, should do that again soon…” Nagito babbled on afterwards while letting you fall against him in a cuddle, not bothering to pull yourselves fully apart.
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| 3 |
Nagito’s eyes brimmed with cupidity from where he was tied up– his legs and arms bound behind him as he tried to roll over to look at you. You had positioned yourself against his back, your palms caressing the sweat that glistened on his chest. You hummed softly as a sob wracked Nagito’s body when you tweaked one of his nipples with lithe fingers, compliant words spilling from his lips. 
“Y/N, fuck me already.” The words were nothing but a rasp, his hair fluffing as his head hit the pillow again in defeat when your hand pulled away.
“That’s not how you ask.” 
“Please– fuck me please… I’ll do anything–” Nagito groaned and you could see the anguish of his face even as he faced away from you. His cheeks burned with hotness, a flush he couldn’t escape as it trailed down his pale chest. His eyes were squeezed shut in agony as he tried to rut into the mattress, but you wouldn’t let him as you hooked him back by his rope. He let out another whine, tears falling freely from his eyes as he looked back at you with a saddened pout. “Please… I swear– just touch me.”
 You smoothed his hair down, threading your fingers through it as you reached for the waistband of his boxers. A short whimper escaped him as you pulled out his cock, aweing at the sight of it lying against his tummy. You felt bad, but then again– who was the one who was being a brat during the first trial? Nagito was lucky he was saved from the cold confines of the ground in the old building, he should be thankful that he was tied against the comfort of your bed. 
“Nagito dear…” You cooed, your fingers ghosting over the tip as it dripped precum onto the sheets. He shook with anticipation as he watched them intensely. Oh, the relief he was going to feel when you finally wrapped your hand around his aching cock– he’s been like this for hours now and you hadn’t let up one bit in your teasing. 
You’ve driven him on the brink of madness several times, by playing with his nipples and hovering your lips over everywhere you could reach. You’ve showcased your collection of sex toys, buttplugs and whatnot with jewels littering the bed before him and he’d whine for any of them but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of one. You needed to show Nagito that everything wasn’t set in stone– when you act like a condescending asshole, this is to be expected.
And all he wanted was your touch– exactly where you’ve abandoned him. His cock had been flushed red for God knows how long and it was starting to really hurt. Nagito pulled at the rope against his wrists, struggling against them and you tutted at him with a long sigh. “None of that, please. I’ve worked real hard on those knots.” 
He instantly obeyed because maybe, just maybe you’d touch him if he was good. Maybe if he begged… “Please, Y/N… I need you. Pleasepleaseplease, need your hand– I’ll be good, I promise. Next trial I’ll be good…”
Next trial? You wiped that thought from your mind as your hand drifted to his cock again. Quiet mutters fell from his lips, more like empty pleads that didn’t make sense and you sighed in defeat as you moved him over to straddle him. You planted yourself right against his knees, taking in the wrecked figure in front of you. Tears stained his cheeks, his dull eyes rimmed with red, and a fucked out expression painted his face as he realized what you were about to do. An unstable, yet warm still leveled his lips.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” 
“A-Anywhere…I don’t care–! Thank you…” 
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| 4 |
When you looked at him the first time, his legs stuck out to you– the tall lengthy figure that sat near the edge of Jabberwock. You didn’t know him then and someone from the island introduced you and all you could think of was how perfect your head would fit between his legs down under. As you shook Nagito’s hand in greeting, you knew you needed to know everything about him, the moon and stars nudging you further. 
He wore shorts underneath the dusk, the hotness of the island wafting over the both of you and his hair fluffed with humidity as you two sat against the sand, overlooking the beach. Your eyes would keep drifting towards the plushness of his thighs as he sat criss crossed on the beach, taking in your every word– naturally by the end of the night, you had him wrapped around your finger.
And here he was, pressed back into the divet of your mattress with sighs and pants spilling from his lips. Now you two had a label between you months later and he was entirely open to you, letting you adore his thighs. Your hand had slipped up and down his cock lazily, giving him some friction as you pressed your lips against the flesh of his right thigh. Your other hand fondled at the other, circling the scars that adapted to his skin and you hummed contently. 
Nagito knew you loved his thighs, saw you drooling over them the first time you both had met underneath the darkened sun. And he was intrigued, so he bit at the line you fed him and this is where it got him– you practically praising, worshipping him like he was an esteemed deity– all for the granted hope of his body. 
He was lucky.
“Y/N…” You heard from above you and your eyes met his, glancing up quickly and taking in his lust rimmed eyes. “Admiring me again?” 
You nodded, your tongue darting out to lap at a bruise you made a few hours prior when you had him splayed out for you before breakfast. You sped up your hand that encased his cock in pleasure, a sharp inhale emitting from him. “And what about it?”
“Ah- N-Nothing…” He groaned out, his head falling back onto the pillows with a slight arch in his back. You smoothed your hand over his milky thigh once again, suckling a new mark into the soft flesh and you felt Nagito jolt a bit. You hazily giggled as his lengthy hand wrapped around yours on his cock. 
He practically gave you permission to bury your face between his thighs as he lightened his grip to let you pull away, both of your hands now pillowing against his thighs– you were so thankful as he pressed them slightly together, your cheek resting against one of them as you toyed with the other. 
Nagito’s hand sped up on himself as you pinched softly, the sharp sting running through his spine and you heard his breathing get more raspier. His hand movements had gotten sloppier too, more uncoordinated as you licked a heavy stripe up the inside of his thigh. 
You clenched your legs together as you felt his body tremble, nearing his orgasm and you felt as though you could watch him from this angle forever. His pale slender thighs shook like a leaf as he fell apart, spurting all over his hand with a quiet gasp and you tried your best to contain yourself. 
But once Nagito came down from his high, your teeth were nipping at his thighs again– your hands massaging near his hips and he happily let you do as you pleased. 
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patrophthia · 1 year
Text
red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.
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pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read
wc: 7.2k
this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>
there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.
taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.
Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.
"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"
"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."
Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"
"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."
Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"
Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."
Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."
"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."
"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.
"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."
"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.
"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"
"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."
When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"
Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."
On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.
I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"
"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."
"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."
"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."
"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."
"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."
"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"
I shrug, "not really."
"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.
"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."
Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"
"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"
"But what if they do," Mark argued.
"But what if they don't."
Mark sighs, "and if they do?"
"And if they don't—"
"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"
"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"
Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.
"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."
Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.
"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"
"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"
"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."
Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."
Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.
Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.
"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.
"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"
"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."
Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"
"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.
"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"
"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."
"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.
Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"
Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.
With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.
Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.
Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.
Theodore Nott was my soulmate.
"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.
Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.
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The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.
My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.
Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.
"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."
There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.
"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."
"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.
"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."
His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.
Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.
It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.
It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."
"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."
Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."
I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.
"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."
"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.
"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"
A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.
The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."
"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."
Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.
Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.
Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.
"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"
"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."
"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"
From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."
"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other.  "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."
"Really?" He says testingly.
"If you're so invested in it then yes."
He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."
Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.
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Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.
And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.
A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.
The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.
Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.
"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."
Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."
"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"
Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.
"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.
Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"
"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."
Her?
Oh.
Me. I'm her.
Okay.
"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"
Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.
I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"
"We need a favour."
"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."
"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."
"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.
"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"
"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."
"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.
"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."
"And I can't help with that?" I ask.
Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"
That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"
"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."
"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"
"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.
I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."
Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"
"I never said—"
"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"
"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.
One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.
Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"
His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."
"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."
He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.
A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.
The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.
Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.
"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"
His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"
"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."
Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."
Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.
I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.
I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"
"I can't just let you pay for me."
He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.
"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."
"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.
I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."
"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."
"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."
"Don't gaslight me!"
Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."
What an ass.
I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.
He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.
The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."
He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.
After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.
The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."
What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."
"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"
With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"
"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."
If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.
"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."
"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"
"What an ass I am." Smart ass.
"Lucky guest." I murmur.
"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.
I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."
"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."
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I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"
I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.
Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"
He blinks. "It wasn't important."
"Your birthday isn't important to you?"
"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"
I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"
Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"
If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."
Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"
I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."
I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."
"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."
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"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"
Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.
"What?"
"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"
I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"
Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."
To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"
"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."
A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."
"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"
"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."
"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"
He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."
"Like?"
"Kiss you."
How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.
A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.
A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.
What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."
I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.
It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.
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Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.
Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.
Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."
My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.
"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."
My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"
Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.
"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."
This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.
Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.
Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.
"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."
"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.
I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."
"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"
"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."
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It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.
Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.
Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"
"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."
Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"
If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?
Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."
And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."
Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.
Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.
A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.
"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"
"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.
Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."
The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"
"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."
That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.
"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."
Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"
Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.
"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."
A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."
Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.
A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"
His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."
A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."
The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.
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Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.
Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.
Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?
What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.
"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"
He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.
"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"
He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.
"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.
He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"
"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."
He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"
"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."
His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"
I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."
" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"
"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."
He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."
"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."
Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."
"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"
"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."
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— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe
notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!
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tonysbed · 2 months
Text
Rumour has it | M.V 1
Max Verstappen x Bestfriend!driver!reader
Summary: Your daughter calls Max dad on a press conference, leaving everyone shocked
a/n: yeah idk what came over me
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You had been eyeing your little girl in Pascales arms the whole 20 minutes the press conference had been going. She had been wriggling and squirming in her lap the whole time, pointing at you or max. Pascale seems to tell her no, which makes her even angrier.
Max was speaking when she started crying “Max, dear sorry to interrupt.” you looked over to pascale “Just let her over here, she’s not gonna stop fussing. I think she’s a lil tired after today” you say calmly over to her.
Pascale nods and sets your little girl down who runs up to you. You set her down on your lap “You tired my love?” She only nods and leans against you, eyeing max next to you.
He smiles gently at her and she starts to giggle, which made him laugh. You look between them “You having fun with maxie now?” The look she gave you startled you. She shook her head.
You raise an eyebrow and she extends her arms towards max. You were about to pick her up and give her over to max when she said into your mic “Daaad”
The whole room went quiet and you exchange a look with Charles, who is on your right. His mouth was open and so was everyone else’s “Sorry, what love?” You ask.
She points at max “Dada” You raise both your eyebrows and finally take a look at max. He’s as pale as a ghost. You chuckle and lift her off your lap into max direction “If that’s your definition for him, sure okay”
You lean back into your chair, being completely blown away by the event. Her arms went around his neck and his right arm around her, while his left hand still gripped onto his mic as if his life depended on it.
The press conference continues for another half hour.At the end, your little girl had fallen asleep in max arms and you weren’t gonna wake her up.
“Let’s get back, I’m tired” You say yawning. Back at the Airbnb you lay down on the couch while max brings her to bed.
He comes back a few minutes later. You had closed your eyes, knowing that he would want to talk about what happened.You weren’t sure if you were ready for that conversation yet.
He sat down next to you “I know your awake” His voice was quiet and gentle. You hum.
“Y/n, look at me, please” You open one eye and look at him sitting next to you. His whole body displayed nervousness and just pure panic. You sat up and took one of his hands “Max it’s alright.”
His eyes find yours “You sure, I mean, I’m not her dad and-“
“Then who is?” You say, making him stop. A short silence fell over the room “Exactly”you whisper.
“That’s you.Not some dick who left. You are her dad”
A little smile went over his face and his body relaxed. Your hand still in his, eyes scanning his face. Before you could say anything else, you felt his lips on yours.
His whole body covered your now “Shit, should’ve done that a long time ago” You chuckle “Don’t you dare curse in front of our daughter, Verstappen” You bop his nose and he smiles into your neck, letting his weight onto you.
“I love you” You smile at his whisper “I love you too”
“Mommy! Daddy!” Your head perks over at the little girl at the end of the couch. Max turns a little, now laying at your side and opening an arm for her.
She lays down on your chest, Max’s arm closing around the both of you. His nose bumping yours and suddenly there is another nose and little giggles in the mix.
Max couldn’t have wished for anything else than his two best girls.
-
Got baby fever after seeing max with p istg
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love-toxin · 8 months
Note
Ellie i want astarion to fuck my mouth
im SO sorry queen i had to make the meow meow a lil emotionally vulnerable while im at it pls forgive me 🐸
(cws: gn!reader, vampire fuckery, bg3 spoilers, oral (m! receiving), teasing, possibly ooc astarion bc im only starting act 2 LOL, jealousy sex, deepthroating, a touch of feral/rough sex, facefucking, astarion is so in love it makes him look stupid <3)
word count: 3.9k
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Once again, an evening spent with your mind somewhere else is interrupted by something you weren't expecting. The fire gleams from the pit and washes warmth across your face, a glow cast over your skin as you sit with your fingers white-knuckling a cold mug. Your companions are off on their own save for Scratch, who despite being a bit furrier than the tavern's normal patrons sleeps quietly at your feet. It barely took any convincing to let him in considering the rather stellar reputation you've earned yourselves–not to mention you're sharing a spot around the hearth with a couple frizzy-haired barbarians and a Tabaxi bard strumming out a tune on her lute. All seems peaceful, the noise just relaxed enough that you can let your mind wander about all manner of things. Ponder all sorts of worries you have yet to deal with on your adventure.
But it seems you're destined for an interruption. The back of your neck prickles from nowhere, a chill slithering coldly down your spine…from the corner of your eye you spot him, his pale hand vanishing behind a door on the second floor of the inn.
He's watching you. That's your cue, his methods of distraction always seeming so trivial and out of the way–he could always just come over and tap you on the shoulder. But Astarion likes the chase and isn't much of a fan of sincerity, so it's only natural for you to pass your half-empty mug off to one of the barbarians, get a bumbled shout of gratitude and a slap on the back, and slip away from the night's bustle of the tavern to thump your way up the winding stairs. All four of the rooms have been rented out by you and your party but one will sit empty tonight–aside from your gear, you're fairly certain your room will be unoccupied as you find other sleeping arrangements.
Tap tap. Just in case there's danger looming too close to comfort, you and your partner have a particular signal. Just as your knuckles come away from the door the tapping echoes back, tap tap, and you smother a grin as your fist closes around the knob for you to step inside.
The oak door thuds behind you at once and clicks softly as the latch falls in place. Nothing but the ire of a god or a drunken ogre could interrupt you now….but there's not much to interrupt if there's only one of you here, and as your eyes sweep the simple room you don't spot hide nor hair of your darling creature of the night. You've got a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to let loose-
"Don't. Move."
-But before you can even take a breath, there's a blade's edge digging into your throat and a cold, lean body pressed up against your backside. Effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. Prey. Astarion's whispered commands, however deep and punctuated they are, only send shivers of delight through you rather than true fear–and you find yourself struck with a dumb grin, not at all immune to the soft touch of his lips as they graze your tender neck from behind. He's got his arm pulled so snug around your waist it feels more like the grasp of a lover than a robbery, but that's because it is.
"Light on valuables, huh?" You tease over your shoulder, your hands braced against his arm as it holds the knife so dangerously close to your pulse point.
"You aren't. Show me what you've got, or I'll look myself." He murmurs back, breath cool as it puffs shallowly against your skin. It's somehow sweet when he tries to be so hard-to-get with you–maybe, you wonder, he doesn't yet realize how attached you are to him despite all you've been through already. Enough that you don't feel the bite of harsh, real danger in your peripheral, which sooner leads him to loosen his grip and push you forward with a palm on the base of your spine–all while tugging the knife out of the way, of course. If you asked him, he'd say it's because it would be a waste to spill such divine blood all over the ground.
As you turn yourself around to face him, you come eye-to-eye with the glaring tip of the knife yet again. Astarion is half-dressed, a bit disheveled, looking as though he's on the cusp of needing a drink again. Those carmine-coloured eyes echo some deep, violent desperation, one that shakes his voice as he commands you with total sincerity to strip.
"Will you join me?" You ask, your voice tinged with adoring hope. It irritates him, hope. Usually, at least. Usually it doesn't rub him as wrong when you're the one with hope in your heart, but evidently tonight is different if his scoff is anything to go by.
"That depends." His gaze flits away as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, not as careful about nicking it with his fangs as he usually is. Something surely must be wrong if he's acting so strange, especially since nothing has happened lately that's seemed to upset him…at least not that he's told you. It could be something else entirely, or something you don't have any idea about. Once he meets your eyes again, the hand he's gripping the dagger in lowers slowly. It was just a prop, after all–never a real threat. "...So long as you don't forget who you pledged your love to. Me. I won't stand for all this…this nonsense I've seen of late."
You cock your head in reply with a raised brow, questioning and curious of what on earth he could be referring to. Astarion rolls his eyes but it's most assuredly a gesture to mask how weak your sincerity makes him, your honesty painfully boring but, at the same time, endlessly endearing. With a sigh he tosses the knife aside in an arc, the handle flipping over blade for it to fall perfectly on the tip, sunk half an inch into the table by the bed. He's got his attention locked on it for long enough that the shuffling of fabric is what turns his head back towards you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips on instinct as he watches your clothing slip off your positively tantalizing figure.
"We're gonna have to pay for that, you know." Whatever you're saying goes right through both ears, the way your giggles shake your shoulders being all that he can focus on right now. He can barely tear his eyes away once you've wiggled out of your bottoms, and you're swift to remind him of his stare when you cheekily throw the travel-worn trousers in his direction. But all he does is grab a handful of them and press them to his face, not soaking in the scent as much as the undeniable warmth from just coming off your legs. They're only an introduction, however. They're tossed right back at you without pause, and fall to the floor in a heap that Astarion carelessly steps over to get to you. To get closer. He can never really get close enough, ever.
Even an inch away from you, though, your love does nothing to close that last shred of distance between you. Where he was eager to touch you just a few minutes ago, now he keeps his hands down like he's nervous about grazing you with just his fingertips. But despite that you can clearly see how he keeps eyeing your lips, so if he won't meet you the rest of the way, you simply have to do it for him. A quick peck on the chin is too much yet not enough–he endures a noticeable quiver through his body that he tries to stifle, but he can't resist raising a hand to your neck and tilting your head higher, just enough that you won't miss this time when he plants his mouth on yours. Deeper this time, much deeper, with his tongue making an appearance to slither from a cold embrace to your unbearably hot one.
You'd love nothing more than to take it further right here, right now, but there's something stopping Astarion that you'd like to get to the bottom of. Just as he's getting a little lost in your kiss, his eyes shut and fangs scraping at your delicate tongue as it moves with his, you break it off with a warm hand pressed to his chest and bring him back to your unspoken question.
"Azzy, what's wrong?"
"Don't call me that," He snaps back suddenly, brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He doesn't move away though–clearly you're a bit too enticing for him to rethink the embrace he has you in, nor the fact that you're bare and warm for nobody else but him. "So childish. Or did you simply forget my name already?"
"I could never forget you. Now tell me what's wrong, Az. You're acting weird."
This time, he just shoots you a glare that could kill you on the spot. It's damning, his fury terrifying enough written so plainly on his face….but it also stirs up something within you that won't be sated by words alone.
"Last time, darling. I'm warning you. And it's nothing. Just…" A shake of his head sends his perfect curls flying about, each one falling back into place more perfectly than he's coming across right now. "...I wish you had been around when I was alive. That's all."
"What do you mean?"
"The others are all…alive. Breathing. Warm. Some of them look at you like–like you aren't with me. Like they could sweep you off your feet without even a thought." He says it with so much defeat in his tone, so gently with so soft an edge that you almost can't hear it with the muffled sounds of the tavern under your feet. It's rare to hear him sound so…sad. It's a bit odd to think, but he often comes off younger than he is when he speaks this way. "Maybe, if…if I was with you, then…" He huffs, flinching away from your hand as it grazes his cheek. Yet, within a moment, he's turning back and nuzzling his face into your palm like he can't get enough, his hand coming up to brace your delicate wrist as if he's afraid you really will pull away from him. "...If I was with you, maybe I would never be what I am now."
"But I like who you are now." You insist, the smile slowly returning as it creases the edges of your lips. "I love you, Astarion. I mean it, I always will. Forever."
"Forever is a very long time, my sweet." You shoot him that naive look like you don't really get the gravity of what you're saying. You don't, on second thought–you haven't suffered through two immortal centuries like he has. "...Fine. You love me? Prove it, then."
His tone grows dark, as does the once-vibrant colour in his eyes. Something swirls about behind them like a shadow in the water of a blood-red lake.
"On your knees."
Huh?
"I said," The air grows hot around you despite the chill of his body on yours, a purr rising in the back of his throat as he pushes very gently on your shoulder. "Get on your knees."
And with his command hanging in the air, you follow so obediently you give him a pleasing shiver down the length of his spine and back. You sink down to the floor in one long, fluid motion, barely breaking eye contact as you brace yourself against his pale thighs. They don't even need your touch to come undressed, his pants falling with his thumbs hooked into the waist and tugged down just as easily as you did. He wastes no time in stepping out of them and kicking them away, but he doesn't really have the option to when you're already mesmerized by the image of what lies beneath–once the tip of his flushed, heavy cock sprung free of catching on his belt, you had your gaze glued to it like it's the first time you've ever laid eyes on him.
"I'll never get tired of this view." He smirks, all pompous and smug with no idea of the test of self-control he's about to face. Because although you may be the one beneath him, where you belong in this scenario, the haze over your eyes as you stare openly should be enough of a tell that your mouth is already watering. Astarion's gentle humming hits your ears as he takes himself in hand, tugging out a few slow strokes for your entertainment before he settles on holding it by the base, and guides it down towards your lips. He's so pale everywhere else that the ruddiness of the rubbery head is almost uncanny, but the pale pink blush that spreads throughout gives his flesh such a delicate look that you can't help but dive right in.
One slow, tentative lick up the tip, and Astarion has it written all over his face–he isn't going to be finished until you've got some bruises, that's for sure. You try another and he finally gets a grip on your head, fingers woven through your hair to keep you steady and to calm his trembling hands. Those soft kitten licks are always his weakness, each one a bit braver and deeper but peppered with hot little kisses in between. You press them all down the shaft and back, smearing the stiff flesh with spit and giving him a tongue bath that feels like it never ends–not that he wants it to, though. Those shaky breaths overhead are a telltale sign otherwise.
"More," He purrs, half-needy and half-demanding in the same breath. You kiss over his knuckles that still grip the base of his shaft, and can't help but smile up at him as he quietly taps the head against your lips, tap tap. Twice he knocks and begs silently for entry, and soon he releases a sigh from the depths of his belly as you swallow him down and welcome him in. "Show me what I deserve."
Astarion certainly doesn't need to tell you twice, he barely needs to tell you once. As soon as he's settled snugly where he belongs, he lets go of the grasp he had and watches in awe as you swallow. Every inch he thinks you can't take more of disappears inside your mouth, slid further and further until he starts to curve into the bend of your throat and loses the last vestiges of his willpower. All his strength saps into you like his teeth on your flesh–where he stole your power in your blood, you take it back just as easily with a flick of your tongue and the incessant squeeze of your throat.
"Getting impatient? Already? We've only just begun, love." You can feel the heat of his eyes shift as they turn further downward, no clothing able to serve as a boundary to hide the needy grind of your thighs together as you kneel. The reaction of your body to his rather lewd commentary doesn't help you either, and in one sweep of his gaze over your exposed figure he can see everything you're thinking like it's written across your skin in ink. "Don't stop rubbing those legs together. Show me just how badly you want me, darling."
It might be more embarrassing if you didn't know Astarion had seen it all already, and that he would most definitely be seeing much more of everything below in the future. The fact that you trust him with those fangs around all your sensitive areas is touching…and it also means he trusts you enough to be a little rougher when you're returning the favour. You've degraded yourself to a humiliating extent by being with him, by getting down on your knees for him no less, and with him wrapped so tight and cozy in your throat he's got a look like he's ready to make himself at home.
With a moan slipped in between the pauses, your beloved curls his thumbs down behind the shell of each ear, his palms laid flat against your temples so he won't let go so easily. The drawing back is easy, his cock parting less and less of the space inside until he's barely brought it back to the tip–but just as you're getting in a taste of his salty sweat and bitterly rich arousal as it sits heavy on your tongue, Astarion flashes you a wink and braces your face for impact as he thrusts back in. Your heat coddles every inch of him and shakes loose a string of raspy moans from his chest, while the scrape of your nails against his thighs and your soft, squirming tongue pressed flat against his girth only has him burning hotter. The first time is a tight fit for sure, but as he enters into a steady rhythm of pulling out and gliding past your sweet, stretched lips, each buck of his hips grows smoother and it gets easier with time. Sooner than either of you expected, you barely have to focus at all–you can sit nicely and let your attention wander up to his lusty gaze, idly suckling at whatever he manages to stuff inside for as long as he's able to keep it there.
"I know it's on your mind already, but tell me I'm beautiful, my sweet." Astarion croons like a cat to a mouse, speaking so sweetly like he isn't still ravaging the most tender areas of your throat, and fucking away any possibility of you speaking properly for the next little while. And he shows no signs of stopping, your squeaky, muffled moans as he grinds the heft of his cock against your tongue too delicious for him to think about it. But eventually he does, managing somehow to pry himself off of your beautiful, fucked-out, spit-slicked face to give you a chance. "Go on. Speak."
"Please," You croak, head hazy and your face dark with warmth. "You're so beautiful, Astarion, please. I love you."
"Will you love me forever?" You nod, the answer barely a hair's breadth from your swollen lips.
"For eternity."
Astarion takes a moment, a pause that lasts a lifetime or more, but the genuine joy that starts to spread across his smile could keep you alive for a century of centuries. It's not one you see often or ever see, but that makes it just as precious as any gold or treasure you might come across in your lifetime.
"...Eternity it is then, darling." One of those cold hands moves to stroke your hair, his touch fleeting yet his grip tight with desire as you lean in for a kiss–not on his lips, but rather the tip of his dick, of which is absolutely soaked by your influence…and of his readiness for the end, as you can see by the veins pulsing up the sides and the whole length twitching with anticipation. You can feel those little spasms through your tongue as it meets his slit, Astarion's chest heaving and fangs glinting as he gives in to the urges to nestle himself back inside. As much as he wants a proper kiss, he'll get one as soon as those frantic hips slow completely instead of picking up speed as he meets your delectable heat again. He could be using you for his pleasure alone for another two hundred years, and in your endless desire to please him you're not sure you'd oppose it–you know for a fact that once the centuries had passed, Astarion would be spending twice as long with his head down between your legs.
"One day, I'll tear that wretch of a vampire's heart out through his stomach," Astarion growls out of nowhere, suddenly sounding completely feral in the span of a moment. The ferocity with which he's fighting the tightness of your throat increases too, thought not much more than he already was–if you touched your neck you would feel the bulge of him sunk so deep he can see it, the rise and fall of that soft flesh tightening the knot in the pit of his belly. "-And we won't ever spend a day apart. I swear."
All you can do is ride with the pace he's offering, your throat cinching tight like a coinpurse the more he rams it with the full strength of his hips, nails digging into your scalp as he batters you rabidly without ever losing his grip. Soon, his query of "Ready, darling?" barely meets your ears, your attempt at not choking on each thrust and somehow sucking in a breath here and there too important for your survival.
And in a matter of moments, you're granted reprieve while also left hollow and empty at the same time, Astarion's fist yanking you back by the hair as he sucks in a huge, deep breath into his lungs. The twist of his other hand stroking himself down to the last few beats comes close to your face, your soft gasps for air the perfect background for your name to trickle out of Astarion's mouth–and with such a deep moan it rattles you through your blood down to your bones, you kneel and wait eagerly as your partner lets everything go for you. His balls tighten and squeeze as the pressure of that knot inside him snaps, and he watches with a devoted gleam in his eyes as you wear every rope of pearly cum he milks out for you in that orgasm that shakes him to the core.
"Look at that," He murmurs, voice nearly as wrecked and raspy as yours will be by tomorrow. "Painted like a canvas fit for the gods. Gorgeous."
If he could, he would save this image of you in a frame forever; your sweet, smiling face marred with the essence of him, your hair pulled back by his sweaty fingers but your eyes filled with so much love. Love, genuine and sincere, your giggles loopy and tired as you come down from the high, yet without any post-sex remorse that he fears each and every time you climb into his bed with him. It stays the same when he cleans you off and persists even once you kiss him, knees so wobbly you fall back into the sheets with the slightest push. You won't ever let him free, kiss after kiss pressed to his cold mouth as he climbs over you. Your ankles hook over his waist before he knows it, your smile desperate to be wiped off your face again once he chases that heat for the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth time, until the sun rises and you're reminded of the downsides of entertaining a lover who never needs rest.
You might tell him you love him again when morning comes, despite the exhaustion tugging down your eyelids and the sweat pouring down your aching back. You probably will, knowing how naive and sincere you tend to be even when you shouldn't. Even so, this time…Astarion might not be able to pretend he doesn't feel exactly the same way.
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paymechildsupport · 27 days
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Can you write jjk men groveling after trying to make reader jealous🙏
--> Dw, I gotchu fam >:)
Jealousy looks good on You // JKK Men x Reader 
[Trying to make you jealous is not a good idea
—> They make you jealous, you make them beg.] 
       ☆ INCLUDES
☆ S. Gojo
☆ S. Geto 
☆ Toji Fushiguro 
☆ R. Sukuna 
       ☆
————————————————————————
[--⋆ ★ SATORU GOJO]
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The bastard’s a lil’ shit, of course somewhere in that combobulated brain of his he thought it was a good idea to make you envious 
You were always so busy with work— what even were you doing anyways-? Surely it couldn’t be anything nearly as important as giving Satoru your attention— he was your boyfriend after all, your one and only 
He’s rich enough to provide for the both of you, something he’s brought up to you numerous times, only to be refused. Even if Satoru had more than enough money, his time was split quite unevenly between you and his career,— something that frustrated both of you to no end. You needed something to do while he was away most of the time. 
Satoru is annoyingly good at making his wants crystal clear; but when it comes to those deeper emotions, he struggles admitting when he’s dependent. You wanted to be invested in your job? Fine then, not like Satoru cared, he had his own job to attend to anyways. 
Continuously shoving yours and his needs aside, he began to experience withdrawal from your presence. He missed your touch, your voice, your loving gaze,— and it showed 
Everything blew up in Satoru’s face when he got a lil’ too pent up fighting the Special Grade, Jogo: why the actual fuck was he giving that cyclops his loving eyes?? It should be you enlisting such excited noises from his pretty lips, not the goddamn volcano bastard. He let down his infinity to hold his hand. You can’t remember the last time he held your hand— he was even starting to put up infinity around you of all people, and it hurt you to no end. 
“That fucking bastard…”
Getting home rather late, your keys jammed into the keyhole, jiggling the lock open. Borderline kicking the door down, you storm into the apartment. Satoru’s head immediately shoots up at the noise, having previously just been napping peacefully. He still had that stupid blind fold on. 
You don’t even bother taking your shoes off before making a beeline for his space on the sofa, grabbing him under the arms and roughly tugging him upwards. Manhandling him against the wall before he could even react— slamming your lips onto his, your tongue shoving itself deep inside his mouth
And now here he was, the Strongest, the untouchable Satoru Gojo on his knees at your feet, beautiful blue eyes glassy with tears, bottom lip quivering. He looked pathetic, all naked and bared to you, all flawless pale skin and defined muscle. His body was sculpted by the Gods themselves,— and here he was, saccharine voice shakily begging for your touch. 
“P—…please!” 
“Please what? Use your words, Satoru” 
“Please touch me.-! *hic* I.—I need you—“ 
“Mmm…” you hummed, “sure didn’t seem like it…” 
His gorgeous blue eyes widen, “I..-I…” 
Grinning, “Say it, Toru. Tell me what you really want” 
“You!” He sobs, head dropping down onto your bare thigh, “All I want is you.! Please,.. *hic* touch me…” 
Your eyes narrow, “perhaps you should’ve thought more before giving some fucking curse bedroom eyes.” You spat acid, the words making Satoru wince
His sobs quieted, his muscular arms clinging desperately to your legs, criss crossed on the bed, “M’ sorry… so sorry…” 
Gently running your hands through his snowy hair, Satoru inhales sharply, lips trailing light kisses along your thighs, whispering the next words into your skin, 
“Jus’ wanted your attention… jus’ wanted you to look at me again…” 
You sigh, smiling kindly, tilting his upwards to meet your gaze. Using your thumbs you wipe the tears from his cloudy eyes, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. 
He smiles back weakly, happy to finally just have your attention on him and solely him. 
———-
[--✭- SUGURU GETO]
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Being a nationwide wanted criminal and nefarious cult leader meant Suguru often had to get up to some nefarious activities,— activities he’d rather you stay far away from 
Sometimes he’d spend days away from you, sinking you deeper into loneliness. It’s only natural you’d begin to branch out to other cult members for company
Suguru supposed he didn’t mind, at least not yet. He knew it was incredibly selfish to expect you to reserve yourself solely for his gaze, considering how often he spent away from you. He did adore that envious gleam in your eye whenever he talked to a new member, your possessiveness charming him. But when you started talking to those monkeys in town? Oh man, that set him over the edge. How dare those disgusting heathens defile you with their stench? 
Boy did his master plan blow up in his face: trying to get you more co-dependent on his presence and his presence alone only seemed to have the opposite effect. He’d push you away so far that now you were seeking out those worthless monkeys for companionship. Suguru had never felt so wronged in his life before
Now here he was, in the temple where curses were suppose to get down and grovel at his feet was Suguru Geto on his hands and knees begging for your forgiveness
Head bowed low, hair cascading down his back, Suguru couldn’t even look you in the eyes as your gaze raked over his kneeling figure. 
How ironic: there you were, lounging in his chair,— his throne— with the most notoriously dangerous curse user at your feet, groveling just like every other pathetic curse that’s walked into this room seeking his grace. 
If any member were to walk in, they’d be absolutely horrified to see their Lord in such a pitiful state, but Suguru didn’t care. He only cared about you and what you thought. 
“Please… forgive me, my love” 
“…” looking every bit the vengeful God, your chin propped on your hand, your condescending gaze knocked the air right out of Suguru’s lungs
“Why’d you burn down the village?” Your tone is curt, devoid of much emotion
“They—- those.. those monkeys… you know what they did-“ He spat, the words tasting sour on his tongue
“No, I don’t. What did they do?” 
Suguru’s eyes widened, finally looking up to meet yours. Were you seriously gonna make him say it? 
“They… they.-“ he started shaking, the rage starting to bubble up to the surface. “They….-“ 
Sighing, you slide off the chair, kneeling down in front of him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Suguru’s cheeks reddened, 
“You can’t leave me alone and expect me to keep myself for yourself” your voice is hard, “being grateful.. it’s a rather cherished trait amongst your members, yeah? How about you show it every once and a while?” 
Suguru hissed, he shouldn’t allow you to treat him like this. No one should be allowed to treat him like this. If it were anyone else, their head would already be rolling on the floor. 
Not you though, you were the exception,— he loved you,— and he oughtta show just how much he appreciated you 
Taking your hand in his, he brings it daintily to his lips, pressing them softly to your palm,— then your wrist, and a butterfly of little kisses up your arm, stopping only when his face meets your ear, whispering hoarsely, 
“I’m sorry, darling,… please, I’m devoted to you alone… let me show you…” he kisses the spot behind your ear, nibbling lightly on the skin, “please…” 
You sigh, leaning in and allowing him to worship your body one would a God.
—————-
[---ˏˋ♥̩͙⑅ TOJI FUSHIGURO]
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Toji’s a very busy man,- what with being a bounty hunter. In between hunting down  homosexual teenagers, it’s hard for him to find time for you
Because he’s a soulless old man who hates all happiness, Toji couldn’t help but resent Gojo Satoru even more, especially when the little git decided to approach you of all people 
Little teeny Gojo, tugging at the hem of your shirt on one of your rare outings with Toji. 
You look down to see the big, blue eyed child looking up at you
How could you resist that eery, soul searching look? 🥺 you immediately bend down to converse with the young lad 
Seeing one of the few outings he had with his beloved being taken up by that six - eyed wretch made Toji want to punt the stupid brat to the moon
Long after you got home was Toji still thinking of the dazzling smile— the smiles that were supposed to be reserved for him — you gave to Gojo
Toji knew it was incredibly petty of him, but he couldn’t help but feel a little vengeful towards you— (a lot of his hatred was already directed at child Gojo, so Y’know, it had to go somewhere else at the moment) 
Now, even on the days he didn’t have any targets to kill, Toji would spend his time with Shiu Kong, the man who gave his commissions. 
It did not work well for him. It only served to anger you, now giving him the cold shoulder. Toji was not built for this, and in a matter of days deprived of your attention he was a mess at your feet: 
It’s almost comical, the way you sat, crossed arms, in your seat, staring down at the man kneeling before you. Toji was massive, seeing such a big man curl up and make himself so small was absurd. 
Beefy arms wrapped around your waist, head in your lap, Toji could only continuously mutter apologies against your stomach, kissing the soft flesh and praying you would eventually forgive him, promising he’d never pull that shit again, 
“ ‘so ‘srry sweetheart,… ‘won’t happen ‘gain…” 
—————-
[--‗ ❍◦ RYOMEN SUKUNA]
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Ryomen Sukuna never begs. 
He’s never had to, never will. 
He’s never asked nicely for something in his life before, what makes you think he’d ever beg for anything? 
He begs for your attention. 
“Look at me, goddamnit…” the curse growled in your ear. 
Sitting on Sukuna’s lap, you stare off uninterested into the void of his innate domain. The iron hold of his arms tighten around your waist. Not enough to hurt per say, but as a warning. You half expected him to shove you off, letting your body crash into the water below the throne of skulls. 
Sukuna rests his chin on your shoulder, huffing, 
“That was an order.” 
You only pout. 
“Oi, human” silence, “who the hell do you think you are to ignore me?” His voice was lethally quiet, voice husky on your ears. 
Gulp. 
“You’re an idiot if you’re still mad about that movie” — that got your attention
“I’m an idiot?” You snort, “You sure looked like the idiot to me: practically drooling over that human worm abomination.” Condescension oozed from your tone. Yuji’s movie played on repeat in your mind; the absolute fever dream of a film that somehow garnered Sukuna’s attention. The eye poking out of Yuji’s cheek wide open the entire time, fixated on that revolting, stomach churning excuse of cinema.
He doesn’t look at you like that anymore. 
“Are you jealous?” He sneers, mockery dancing in his tone, “how cute.” 
“Shut up. Shut the actual hell up. You pulled that shit on purpose.” 
Cackling, “you mortals sure are vain little creatures, getting upset over the most useless things-!” 
“Fine.” You snap, starting to squirm your way out of his hold
His tone immediately drops to a stern demand, “What are you doing?” 
“I’m done here,— you obviously have better interests. I’ll be leaving now” 
“No, you won’t.” Just as you were about to wriggle away you’re grabbed around the waist, sharp nails stabbing into your skin. 
You yelp. 
“Let me go-!” 
“No.” Sukuna effortlessly lifts your struggling body up, spinning you around on his lap, harshly yanking you against his chest. You’re surprised he doesn’t rip your arm clean off, considering it would be very easy for him to just cleave you in two, (you can’t really run away then). 
“You aren’t going anywhere.” His face is buried into the crook of your neck, squeezing your body against his, as if you would disappear at any moment. 
Deep crescents were pierced into your skin by his claw-like nails, droplets of blood gathering at the tiny openings where they previously had gripped your neck. Tentatively, he swiped the crimson drops away with his tongue, dainty kitty licks covering your neck. 
With a gentleness unknown to him, Sukuna muttered against the warm skin, 
“Stay with me.” 
Sukuna’s never said “sorry” before in his many long centuries on earth. The word wasn’t even in his dictionary, 
—but for you, apologies could be made in other ways. 
———
A/N: rauarauassjjsjs thanks for the request!! :3
Had a lot' o' fun with this one.
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buckybabieboy · 9 months
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Heyy! I was reading you work, which I love btw, and I wanted to request a one-shot or blurb for little!bucky accidentally getting drunk, like how would he act, what would he say. I feel like he’d be super clingy and needy. With cg!mommy!reader please 🥹 Love you writing <333
Lol this is gonna be the cutest thing ever😭. Thanks for the request Babie!
Tipsy Baby.
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☁️ Summary: Bucky has way too much to drink at Natasha’s party, leaving you to take care of your little boy.
⚠️TW(READ.): sub!touch-starved bucky, dom!fem!reader, Bucky is so touch starved😭, reader is able to carry bucky, lactation kink cuz I felt like it, mentions of alcohol, Bucky can get drunk if he drinks an abundance.
📝A/N(PLEASE READ): DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE. ITS THAT SIMPLE. DON’T REPORT MY WORK JUST BC YOU DONT LIKE IT. Anyways, pls enjoy this lil blurb! drunk Bucky is just the cutest 🥰. and your right, bucky is VERY clingy AND FUCKING TOUCH STARVEDDDD when he’s drunk.
“Mommyyyy!” Bucky slurs out as he dramatically falls in front of you on the compound’s floor.
“Mommy pay ‘tenttion to me!”
You peer over your phone and watch as your baby heaves and pants on the ground, his beautiful pale skin flushed with pinkish-reddish tones, and his big puppy dog eyes red and puffed.
“Baby, are you drunk?” You question him, though you already know the answer. He only whines and thrashes his limbs around in a hissy fit, not using his words.
“W-why are you so faaarrr?” He wails petulantly, completely ignoring your question.
“M’ not far, sweetheart, ‘m right in front of you.”
An empty bottle of Tiger Beer has accompanied him on the ground, clutched inside his sweaty palms.
“Gimme that!” You sigh before getting off of your comfy spot on the couch and snatching the bottle out of his hands. He whines even more.
“Who let you have this?”
Bucky pouts and mutters something, but it’s almost impossible to hear with the music and noise that flood throughout the compound.
“Can’t hear you bud, you’re gonna have to speak up f’me, okay?”
“T-tasha…” He hiccups. “N-Natasha lemme have some, mommy…”
Another exasperated sigh escapes from you as you begin to regret supporting Bucky’s idea to come to Natasha’s party. It didn’t really surprise you though, since he was always a party guy when he was younger. You rarely ever drank, especially when you were going to an event. You opted out of that a long time when the both of you got drunk, which you both know didn’t end well.
Natasha had invited everyone to her floor for a party. You weren’t too fond of the idea when you heard there was going to be alcohol, but Bucky was very excited and begged you to go. He assured you that Steve and Sam would be there to watch him.
So eventually you gave in, but not before making him promise that he wouldn’t drink.
When you arrived at the party, Bucky was acting more than normal. He immediately started chatting and playing party games with Wanda and Vision. He even played Twister with them, which you knew was a surprise to everyone. Despite the fact that loud noises triggered him, he seemed to be having a good time. Needless to say, you felt comfortable with letting him go off on his own for awhile.
Scanning the room, you spot Natasha by the fridge, a Tiger Beer in hand. The trash can next to her was filled with empty bottles of that stuff, and you knew they had to be Bucky’s. He couldn’t get drunk easily so it would take a copious amount of alcohol to get him drunk.
The blame wasn’t all on Natasha, though. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all were made aware of Bucky and his little space—you’ve told them a numerous amount of times for his safety. So Natasha could’ve given him a bottle, but Bucky must’ve gotten his hands on this much alcohol all by himself.
You’d have to talk to them about that another day though, because right now, your little boy was cemented on the cold floor, spacey and dazed below you.
“S-so pretty. Mommy so pretty!” Bucky giggles, his head cocked to the side in awe as he gazes up at you. He wasn’t thinking about anything else. He literally couldn’t. His little brain couldn’t process anything while in little space, so him being drunk definitely amplified it X10.
“C’mon, baby boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”
You offer your hand to him. He doesn’t budge though, instead he whines, and mutters more incoherent sentences. This wasn’t the first time Bucky lost all of his words. When he was little, most of the time he would gesticulate instead of speaking up.
“Hmm…” You tap your index finger on your chin, prenteding to brainstorm. “Oh! I know what you want! You want uppies!”
Bucky nods and squeals, making grabby hands up at you. You place your hands under his arms, pick him up, and set him on your hip. A precious little noise escapes from him as he wraps his legs around your waist, his arms around your neck, and leans into your touch. The smell of your hair seemed to be the only thing he was able to process.
Once you make it to your floor, you set him down on the bed. He whines once again when you leave and you quickly shush him, reassuring him that you’re just getting his pj’s out for bed. Bucky stands up to take off his pants but stumbles and trips, landing face down on the floor.
“Hnnngh..” He whines, starting to pick up his thrashing and wailing from earlier.
“Hush, my little boy, let Mommy take care of you.”
“M’ dizzy…” He fusses. “Everything’s spinning…”
“I know baby, I know. Let’s get you in your PJ’s, okay?” You hush him a little bit before helping him off the ground and settting him back on the bed. It was a struggle, but you got his pants and shirt off. Now the task was to replace them with his nighttime ones. You take one leg of the pants, grab his leg, and slide it in.
“Good job, Jamie! Now your right leg!” You praise your little boy. He giggles when his pants are all the way on, and doesn’t even fuss when you put his shirt on for him.
“Perfect… now let Mommy get changed and then we can go sleepies, okay?”
He fussed, but you got changed in no time, and his fussing quickly became coos of happiness once you cradled him in your arms.
“My little baby.” You fawn. “Your mommy’s boy aren’t you?”
Bucky’s eyes flutter, as he tries to stay awake. His baby blues are glossy and clouded from the substance earlier.
“Mmm… uh-huh! M’mommy’s boy! Mommy’s goodest boy!”
“Yeah, except for earlier. What did I tell you about drinking that much alcohol? You know your little mind can’t take it.” You scold, and he pouts up at you.
“Sammy was watchin’ me! But then he drank some too, ‘n we-” His hiccups interrupts him.
“W-we made a stupid bet. Who could drink the mostest, ‘n I won.” He giggles at that last part, obviously proud of himself for beating Sam at literally anything.
You were about to respond when you noticed his eyes flutter. His metal fingers tug on your tank top—you already know what that means by now.
“Awh my baby’s hungry! You hungry, sweetheart?” You coo at him in the softest tone possible. He does nothing but nod, his words are becoming little to none—indicating that he was deep in.
“Go ahead, Jamie. You can have some, mommy doesn’t mind.”
You help him out a bit by tugging down the top yourself, your leaking tits out for Bucky to suckle on. He wastes no time, immediately latching his pink lips on your right nipple. His suckles were harsh and rapid. All he wanted right now was to taste your sweet nectar. A few strokes to the scalp and he’s almost out—his stamina completely gone from earlier.
You praise your little baby. Whispering to him all of the things he loved to hear. Calling him all of the names he loved to be called while in his little space.
The meekest whines and whimpers come from him as he suckled more frantically. As time went on he became frustrated—frustrated at the fact that he was too exhausted to keep going.
“Shh, it’s okay. I know… your so exhausted, hm? So exhausted from having so much fun earlier?”
You stroke his scalp with your fingers, keeping the movements slight and slow for him. Bucky could never describe it, but there was always a certain tactic, or pattern in which you’d scratch his scalp that made him feel so innocent. So vulnerable.
You know this, You know what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when he’s completely reliant and under your control.
“I’ve got you, Bucky Bear. Hush now.”
Bucky eventually quiets down, and so do his suckles on your nipple. He lets your nipple fall free from his mouth, some milk dripping down his parted lips. You wipe it off gently.
“Mommy m-mines?” He whimpers. “All mines?” He nuzzles himself into your chest, the warmth of your body and vibration of your voice as you cooed to him always calms him down.
“All yours, honey.”
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esamastation · 8 months
Text
lil bit of AC x Temeraire
"Translation error," is Clay's verdict.
"Translation error," Desmond repeats dubiously, staring down at him.
"Yes."
"Uh-huh. And that means what, exactly?"
So many things that he doesn't understand, it turns out. Stuff like how Animus code works and how badly it was originally designed, Abstergo trying to derive from the First Civilisation's work and how it was bungled up. Add into the mix human DNA - Clay's - being translated into Animus simulation which was then translated into whatever the Grand Temple had going on for itself which was then translated yet again into the background processing of the universe, plus the delightfully unstable addition of stray thoughts and the fact that Desmond has slight Piece of Eden infection and apparently the placebo effect is actual fucking magic -
"What?" Desmond asks helplessly.
"Stalk it up as a glitch in the Matrix, times a thousand," Clay concludes. "And don't worry about it."
"Um. No, I don't think I can," Desmond says, emphatically, and motions at him. "Clay, you're a dragon."
Clay looks down at himself, at his sinuous body of pale gold and burnished bronze. He's not a very big dragon, about the size of a big dog maybe, but he's still very clearly a dragon. Wings and tail and talons and all.
Clay looks up at him, and his voice is sardonic. "Wow, your Eagle Vision must be levelling up, Desmond, your observational abilities are off the charts!"
Desmond folds his arms. "I'm also observing that there's something wrong with the Grand Temple," he says flatly.
Clay swings his long necked head around this way and that, taking in the ancient volcanic cave around them. "Looks the same to me."
"All our stuff is gone, Clay. And I seem to recall that part having collapsed. It looks pretty uncollapsed to me. Also, the barrier is up again," Desmond points at the glowing Isu-tech barrier between them and the device Desmond is pretty sure he just activated. "Are you seeing the barrier, Clay, the barrier I spent the last week's of my life opening?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Seventeen, you're not dead yet."
"Clay," Desmond says, even flatter.
The dragon blows out an acrid smelling breath. "Okay, fine, I did maybe attempt a little bit of time travel," he says defensively. "You would've too if you realised what the Grand Temple could really do!"
"Which is… time travel?"
"Pretty much anything that your little mind can come up with, actually."
Desmond gives him another one over and folds his arms. "Like turning you into a dragon."
"Manipulating probabilities is one hell of a thing," Clay agrees and nudges his side with his nose. Snout? "But the dragon bit is definitely a translation error. I was trying to recode myself into an Isu," he adds, very quickly under his breath. "Not a winged reptile with an upset stomach."
"You - what?"
Clay avoids looking him in the eye and huffs out an embarrassed breath. "Also you're not dead. You're welcome for not being dead," he says pointedly.
Desmond stares at him for a long moment before letting out a sigh and letting it go. "Thanks. You have an upset stomach?" he then asks.
"It kinda hurts, yeah," Clay murmurs, shifting his weight a little, and just then there's an audible gurgle from somewhere within him, his draconic belly rumbling.
Desmond lets his hands drop to his sides. "You're hungry?" he asks incredulously.
"I haven't eaten anything in almost a year, Desmond, have some sympathy."
"Yeah, well, you were dead," Desmond says, making a face, and then hesitates. "I should be dead."
"That's what Juno wanted to happen anyway," Clay agrees and unfurls his wings tentatively. "Again you're welcome."
"Right. You… saved me. And brought us back in time," Desmond says slowly and frowns  "When exactly are we?"
Clay spreads out his wings and shakes himself. "If I didn't mess up the calculations, maybe two hundred years back in time."
"Uh. Why two hundred years?"
"It's enough time to fast forward industrial revolution without breaking history too badly," Clay says almost flippantly and gives him a look. "And all your major ancestors have procreated and died and so if we mess up time, there's still a good chance you will be born."
Desmond blinks. "That's," he starts to say and then isn't entirely sure how to continue. It's not exactly comforting, not exactly worrisome. It's something in between with a little bit of existential horror thrown in. "Okay," he settles on saying, feebly. "And what are we going to do? Just cause an early industrial revolution?"
"That and some other things. I have some plans," Clay says, not quite modestly.
Desmond isn't exactly reassured by his tone. "And how does becoming a dragon feature in those plans?"
Clay hesitates and looks down at himself, shifting his weight on his taloned claws. "Well," he says and his stomach grumbles again. "I think it might change the first step. Get food, instead of find riches. Do you think we could get some food? I'm really hungry, Desmond. You know how to hunt, right?"
Desmond eyes him for a moment and then hums. "I know how to hunt, yeah," he says slowly and looks away, towards the entrance to the Temple. Or rather the exit from their point of view. "But, uh."
"What?"
"You know, we needed Minerva's Apple to get in here. The door was pretty well shut - and had been for tens of thousands of years." Desmond points out and nods at the sloping cave, leading away from them. "How do you suppose we're going to get out?" 
Clay stills and then tucks his wings back in. "Oh," he says.
"Yeah. Oh."
-
What if Travel Winds but with Clay and more crack?
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imababblekat · 9 months
Text
Delirium?
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@lil-hun-bun​ , “Raph x fem!Reader where he's taking care of her because she's sick and they end up confessing their feelings for each other, perhaps?”
~xXx~
All it took was one word, and the red cladded ninja turtle was scaling across rooftops to your place of residence. Sick. That’s what you had texted him after rejecting his call to hang out. It had him notably concerned, as there had been times when even if you had a small cough you’d still at the very least enter a video chat with him. However, no interaction at all was very unlike you. 
Raphael did his best to conceal his racing thoughts, picking the lock on your window before making his way in. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so worried to begin with. It wasn’t like you were in the hospital or anything else of a more serious level. Part of him was actually quite irritated by the his fretful emotions. Not at you of course, more of what you seemed to do him lately. He’d never been this concerned over something so silly before. Even when one of his brothers or April would come down with a nasty cold, he’d just offer if they needed something from the store and leave it at that. In fact, in most cases he’d leave things to Donnie, unless it was said terrapin who had been ill. Yet when he’d received your message, the thought to ask Donnie or give his brother the heads up, didn’t even cross his mind. 
What was it about you in particular that made Raph of all people go out of his way, just by one simple text message? 
The answer had struck him when, after giving you a quick heads up to his presence, he entered your room to find you in an unsightly state, his heart dropping in his plated chest.
Across the room, snuggled under a pile of blankets and surrounded by tissues, you lay as pale as your sheets and covered in sweat like on a hot summer afternoon. The weakness in just lifting your head to peer over at the larger turtle and the croak in your voice had Raph’s heart strings tugged. 
“Raph? What are you doing here?”
It wasn’t even a second after finishing your question that you fell into a fit of coughs, and Raphael was quick to make his way to your beside, taking off and opening the small backpack he’d brought with him. Inside were bottles of water and multiple types of medicine he’d dumped in his rush to get to you.
“What da ya think? You don’t answer my call, send me a one worded text with no further explanation, and expect me to not show up?”
You gingerly reached for a water bottle he’d opened and offered you, sitting up as best you could to take a few sips and completely unware at Raph’s resistance to assist you. 
“To be honest, I would have expected Donnie, but you’re a nice surprise.”
Raph raised a brow ridge, sitting at your feet, the bed dipping with his weight and you’re feet resting against his thigh beneath the blankets.
“I’m not sure how to take that, so I choose to take it as a compliment.”
You giggled at his scowling face, eyes crinkling in the corner. Man, even when bed ridden, Raphael couldn’t deny the way you caused a light flutter of butterflies in his stomach. However, the sweet moment hadn’t lasted long when you suddenly erupted into another, heavier fit of coughs. Seeing you turn over to your side, nearly dropping and spilling the water in your hand had he’d not rushed to grab it for you with his quick reflexes, Raph felt a newfound type of panic.
“Hey, don’t go dyin on me now, doll. Tell me what I can do.”
His voice was softer than usual, you almost hadn’t heard him, but you did, and could just about feel the deep worriment dripping from each word. 
“Got any cough meds in that mystery bag of yours?”, you asked, laying back against your pillows, head pounding and body sore.
There was a minute of rummaging beside you, when your normally brutish friend procured a plastic bottle with red liquid within. 
“Um, I’ve got this?”
You took a peak, too tired to sit up again.
“Cough syrup. That’ll work.”
Raphael said nothing in reply, simply working to get the lid off and pour the heavy cherry smelling liquid into the small cup it came with. No words were spoken or asked, as a large hand, one usually so fierce had cradled and lifted your head with the upmost care and gentleness. Raph watched as you slurped down the cough syrup, cringing at the sickly gag you let out once finished, before just as gently resting your head back down against your pillow.
“Need anythin’ else?”, he questioned, hand resting on the dip of your side as you slowly rolled over to face him.
“Yeah.”, you mumbled, snuggling into your covers but keeping your gaze tiredly focused on his, “For you to know I mean it.”
A small chuckle left Raph’s beautiful lips.
“Mean what?”
“What I said earlier.”, you murmured, reaching a shaky hand from your covers to reach for the wrapped hand resting by your pillow. 
Even in such a weak state, the light caresses you made across Raphaels large hand was enough to cause his heart to skip a beat. He looked to the side, suddenly feeling pressure under your gaze, his cheeks tinting ever so lightly.
“Pfft, sure. You’re delirious.”
“Raphael.”
The full call of his name, as well as the light squeeze of his hand by your much smaller one, was enough to convince the ninja turtle to take a chance and look your way. Despite the bags under your exhausted eyes and the strands of hair sticking to your sweat clad face, you somehow managed to convey every bit of seriousness and truth to your next words.
“Why is me enjoying having you here instead of anyone else that unbelievable? You’re my closest friend. You know how much like being around you. . .how much I like you.”
The last words were said with your cheeks flushing a lovely red hue, and while you knew Raph was aware of the true cause, maybe, just maybe it could pass as due to being sick. Gently shaking your head, pushing aside the anxiousness in your own chest, you looked back up to offer a silent Raphael a gentle smile.
“And I’m not delirious.”, you reached up to gentle boop his nose. 
Raph grasped your hand in his, but didn’t release it as he had started to copy the same soothing motions you had done with his hand a little earlier. His heart felt so full. Just as you caused him to fret so much over a single worded text, only you could make his heart do ninja flips while looking like the plague. Honestly, that somehow made him even more fond of you. Just like all those times you had gone out of your way to care for him, a mutant turtle who people only saw as a burly ball of anger and furry. Perhaps those times of your unique kindness towards him was also why he’d go out of his way to care for you in this moment as opposed to how he would for anyone else. 
Maneuvering your hand, Raphael turned his face ever so slightly to place his lips softly against your palm, the feeling of a chaste kiss being left there as he spoke.
“Yah, I know, doll.”
~xXx~
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