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scruus · 10 months

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★̶̲ [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞]

✎ sub afab howl + dom gn amab reader notes: edging, vibrator, rope binding and blindfold, begging, rough sex, degradation, tummy bulge, mean reader, howl is possessive; part 2 of this fic.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ you put a spell on me - austin giorgio

Howl’s legs thrashed against the mattress, body writhing against the covers and desperate sobs turned to screams as you snatched away another orgasm from reaching him.

The pink vibrator which was covered with his dripping slick and fluids was pulled inches away from his trembling hole. Clit so red and puffy, so neglected and almost numb because of the repeated orgasm denials. Nerves on fire as his thighs quaked from the rejection.

“Oh god! please let me cum”, he cried, hands clenching into fists which rattled against the headboard, trying to overpower the ropes binding him. He couldn’t. You had laid a spell on them and they wouldn’t untie unless you said so.

Howl knew that, obviously. He was the greatest wizard of the empire! He knew all your tricks. But there was an unspoken rule between the two of you in situations like these. He will submit or you shall make him.

“You s-said you would let me!!”, needy wails so loud everyone could hear it within a few metres of your apartment. Surely, the couple next door won’t come knocking the next morning.

Your fingers trailed down his chest, dancing in rhythm and humming along to his pleas. Such heavenly music.

Slowly, they would circle around his puffy nipples and flick it. However you weren’t entirely mean! Oh no no! You would brush out the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, or just lean over and press kisses on his quivering lips that were covered in saliva. An act of mercy maybe?

The blindfold was only preventing howl from seeing your face but every touch lingering on his body was enough to tell him of the expression. Grinning, eyes laced with a sadism only he could ever be a witness to. Something playful yet sinister. And fuck did that make his already aching clit throb!

“Aww look howl, the cloth is all wet!”, you mumbled, tracing a line along the blindfold, brows furrowing up.

“Its soaked with your pretty tears”, pouting you wiped the few droplets that were still trickling down his cheeks, a result of the consequent edging that was slowly pushing him to the tip, “-that won’t do”, you shake your head.

With shuddering breaths, “p-please i want your cock please~”, he pleaded, trying to get you to finally give in. To let him feel you buried in his warm walls after being such a good boy. Its been so long now, his entire body was furious. His insides burning with a frustrated desire you just wont allow.

“hmmm…”, you nodded, slipping your hands behind his luscious head of hair and untied the fabric with the spell, ignoring the drowsy smile tugging on his lips. Howl’s eyelashes fluttered, looking up to you seated in between his wet thighs. Shirt discarded on the floor so you could feel his stare run down your abs.

Ocean eyes trying to study smiling lips and that cocked eyebrow of yours.

His unfocused gaze lingered down to your crotch and he licked his lips, salivating. Your pants were hardly able to conceal how fucking hard you were. It looked like your shaft would rip out into the open any minute now. As if you were under the restraint of that fabric.

Chuckling softly, you unbuckled your belt and zipped down your pants. Look at how he eyes it, you squint, so eager. Reaching inside your briefs, you took your hard cock out and hissed feeling your warm hand enclosing around it.

Breathing in a whiny moan, howl’s legs closed in on one another, maybe in an attempt to rub himself. The heat was spreading under his skin and prickly bumps adorned his limbs. You didn’t even touch him yet he could feel it all. All of you. Deep in his bones.

Your leaking dick looked the prettiest in howl’s manicured, prim and proper hands but right now it was getting catered by your own. Throbbing and pulsing so much, howl could count each vein popping out along the length. His heart pounds against his chest, yearning hole clamping on nothingness.

Did you get huge suddenly? because for some reason your cock looked a bit more bigger than usual. Was it a spell? Or was howl just way beyond horny, in a realm of pure lust?

“ohhh…”, howl whined, as the thought of you stretching his cunt out, burned into his marvellous mind. All those times when you were trying to just accommodate your thick tip in at first, gently, afraid of hurting him. And then slowly pushing it all the way in until his blurry vision could see stars.

“shhh…you’ll get it if you’re a good boy”, you moaned. stroking your length up and down as pearls of pre cum dripped down on howl’s thighs. Your eyes run over his pussy lips, peeking at you and the swollen pink nub begging for attention.

Well as much as howl wanted to drool all over that fat fucking cock and take it all down his throat until he chokes on it, it was a plan for another day. For now, he just wants that hot thing ramming inside of his empty dripping cunt and his hands clinging on to you until your chest and back were decorated with pretty marks. A practice of showing everybody who (y/n) belongs to.

“daddy…untie - please”, he asked, sniffling his whimpers in and biting his bottom lip. Ah! The signature puppy look. The hidden ace up his sleeve which you can never turn away from. Come on now, he is your baby. Your perfect boyfriend. The love of your life. Doe eyes which were covered with a glassy sheen, trying to pull you in a hypnotic maze. Naive and innocent.

You will listen to him right?

You laughed, hands coming down to grip his thighs and harshly pushing them wide apart, “oh no no love, you’re not getting to touch me”, his folds being parted by your fingers while your thumb dragged across slit.

His eyes widened, lips parting in surprise, what?, a shaky breath leaving them.

“no…no no no why? whyyy??”, he cried. His arms trying to move and flail around, reaching out for you through the tied ropes, but failing to do more so than just a few jerks. He wants to touch you so bad. He wants to have your body rubbing against his. His hands scratch down your back while you kiss his lips.

“fuck wh-“, you smacked your palm across his cunt, sending jolts of pain. Howl choked out a garbled moan at the impact, head jerking back.

Did you just spank his cunt?! You never did that before!

“Shut the fuck up bitch”, you spat as your palm slapped his clit again, the other pushing his leg down and refusing to let them close in on reflex to the stinging pain. “You think I would listen to you after you were fingering yourself out in the living room like some slut?”, another smack. Howl’s cries upped a pitch as his hips stuttered, tingles firing up in his poor bud.

Fuck it felt so good when you degraded him and roughed up his dripping pussy like the dirty whore he was. His face was a flaring red, eyes all hazy and prickling with a new set of ready-to-spill tears.

“What if my friends had come in with me? huh?”, you scowled, getting annoyed at the thought, “but lets be real, you would have actually liked that wouldn’t you howl?”

Howl nods in response, those glassy tears streaming down his rosy cheeks while his chest heaves up and down. His pulsing hole getting wetter with each passing second and his mind, a foggy mess.

“Would have liked to be fucked by your daddy in front of everyone and bred like a greedy cockwhore? wouldn’t you?”. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. You were breaking his mind now.

You slipped the tip of your cock against his pretty folds, sliding it up and down between his pussy lips and wincing in pleasure. Howl lets out a relieved moan, drawn out and debauched, when he finally can feel your dick flat against his hungry cunt. His hips were trying to buck up but your arm was keeping them down. Whimpers getting more desperate and excited.

“in..in..in…put it in”, he babbled, wriggling against the ropes trying to get further friction on his swollen bud with the help of your dick. He whimpered in pain, eyes shutting close when you slapped his thigh, “again? didn’t i tell you to shut up?”.

Nodding and muttering sobbing sorrys, he pleads. His voice now a hushed purr. Blood thumping in his ears because of the drawn out denial. At the verge of losing his mind. Why were you being so mean?!

A depraved shriek escaped his lips the moment you went inside him. In one single thrust. No warning, no gentleness and no care. Just a straight up merciless enter. His tight pussy lips struggling to ease around your thick shaft, the burn of his ripping cunt tipping over the bucket of arousal in his stomach. And so he came.

Hips jerking up and his hot insides clenching down on your cock so hard, you thought it would break. Choked moans from his throat while his entire body twitched, his head tilting back. A spray of water covered your abs, your eyes widening. He had squirted the moment you pushed inside him.

“holy fuck…”, you panted looking down at the mess. This was so hot. Shivers running up your body. Your fingers digging into his supple marked up thighs. But you were far from done.

Lifting his legs on your shoulders, you began hammering your dick inside his sopping warm cunt. You smelled your favourite scent on his ankles. Lavender. Did he put perfume on his ankles?

Did he know you would fuck him like this?

You grinned and flicked his nub with your fingers, intensifying the stimulation. A look of pornographic bliss on his face. His cute little cunt swallowed your dick all up from the tip to base like some cheap whore. There were sounds of filthy squelching paired with hips smacking against each other, hard and rough.

Howl shook his head, legs kicking up in the air but your gripping hold kept them in place. Staining red marks on the blank canvas of his beautiful lower limbs.

The bed creaked with each merciless pump inside, not slowing down for a second. Not even letting him adjust around your hard, throbbing length. Just splitting him open brutally, working him wide and full. His hands scratched at the headboard, trying to support himself.

Howl was brainless at this point. Just a flesh-light for you to pound in. Eyes watering and rolling back so hard, he could see nothing but a dark looming vision. Hiccuping moans accompanied with loud sobs to ‘slow down’, he was gonna cum again.

“so big, bigggg~”, his cunt was burning, you were stretching him out so much, it was ungodly. Sinful. Absolutely lewd. Your dick was forcing his walls to shape around you. It felt so full. Forcing him to fit you like a glove, because you belong in there. Its your own. “Take. It. All”, your demands bending his soul over.

Howl is for you to own. He belongs to you. His filthy tender hole, his round ass, his adorable perky nipples, his plush and soft lips, they all belong to you. And you belong to him.

He could feel you all in him, marking your claim. The outline of your dick making its bold show every time you pounded inside and it took every ounce of your moral will to press your weight down on it because if you did, you knew howl would come almost immediately.

Rutting into him like someone in heat, driven by a maniac lust, ignoring his screams. “oughhh g-god shhtop”, he slurred, choking on his saliva. He was hardly able to make out his own voice. Body all hot, like someone had pushed him into a vault of fire with you.

But everything was so damn addictive. Every thrust, every vein rubbing along his walls, every twitch of your tip and your rough palms rubbing his clit. It was so deliriously perfect that it made howl break out into a crazed smile.

Thats it, fuck me like am your cocksleeve. Your cumdump. Fill me, mark me up, break every part of me. I am yours, you are mine.

He was loving that hint of pain in his loins. It was mixed with pleasure. And a lot of love hidden beneath lust. It was a recipe of a drug only you two knew of.

“oh fuck…am close”, you moaned, leaning forward to place your lips on howl’s. Bending his knees till they were right beside his head. You lapped up his drool, pushing your tongue in him while howl continued to whine inside your mouth. He adores you so much.

Your tip was kissing his cervix, in so deep its like you were all up in his head. Plaguing his mind. You were definitely fucking a baby into his womb at this rate. Which, surprisingly, made howl jittery.

“ouhh ha-harder!!”, his wails riled you up. The coil in his stomach tightened again as his release felt near. And you understood from the way his voice increased in decibel. Girlish, high pitched moans spilling from his mouth. So obscene.

You swing an arm under his back and he moved into you, his back arching. Your gut felt heavy and close, clenching inside. “B-Breed me~”, he begged and that’s all it took.

You spilled into him. Emptying every inch of your cum deep inside him, till his tummy was swelling up and he could feel it all moving inside. Some of it trickled down, leaking out, and pooling in the already wet patch of the bed.

A strangled moan left his mouth the moment you came undone and his legs jerked on your shoulders. Toes curling because of the shattering sensation. His milky white body trembling in your arms, soft to touch but ruined from the inside. Falling apart in front of you. But that was fine. You would always be there to catch him.

Your head felt dizzy. A known indicator that you came alot. It happens rarely but it wasn’t something too weird.

Within a few seconds you could feel his breaths relax, returning to the easy and lazy routine he always has. Your dick was still sheathed inside him because you knew all your sticky cum would gush out of his gaping hole and then you would have to rush him to the bathroom. As all good lovers should.

But this moment felt too intimate. You wanted it to last for a bit longer. Eyes gazing at his swollen bruised lips and then running back to his eyes. A bit red and still tearful. But they were sparkling. His blue eyes were whispering praises to you.

You muttered a spell and his hands came untied. Landing on your shoulders.

Sweeping a strand of hair behind his ears, you rub his cheek. “Am sorry, i went too rough”, you pout, a feeling of remorse building up in you before you hear his chuckles. Raspy but still adorable.

“I can barely talk right now but-”, he sighed, “-I need to tell you that I loved it”.

“I love you darling”, he pressed a kiss on your lips, bringing his forehead down on yours. “My lovely darling”, mumbling with affection, he pulled you into a warm embrace.

“I love you sweetheart”, you smiled against his lips before taking him in a deep kiss again.

#.rizzler #howl #howl pendragon #howl pendragon smut #howl jenkins pendragon #sub howl #howl smut #afab howl #dom reader #dom top reader #top reader #howls moving castle #howl’s moving castle #howl x reader

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waitingonher · 11 months

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hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽

percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite

pairing: percy jackson x reader

content warning: coupley things

word count: 916

author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL

you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy.

percy is such a green flag!!

HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside.

you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.

percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.

all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!!

or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!

sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in.

shopping dates with percy!!

you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.

“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body. your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.” percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.” you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.” “but-” “no percy.”

HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears.

he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.

this guy has your gas station order down to a tee!

percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-” “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face. with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.” percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.”

dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!!

him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him.

despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up.

percy makes you flower bouquets!!

they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets.

and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds

one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights!

you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience!

even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO

you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face. percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband. “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks. “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband. you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.”

you two are actually a match made in heaven <333

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson fic #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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neverinadream · 2 months

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Anything To Help A Friend

Summary: Mason will do just about anything to help a friend.

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, nsfw, pre-established relationship, fwb!mason, roommates, dom!mason x sub!reader, writer!reader, pet names (baby, good girl...), praise kink, teasing, references to other sexual partners, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, sort of a fade to black orgasm if that's even a thing, not edited

Notes: mason practically had his cock out in training and it made me write this 🤭 anyway, feedback is always appreciated and requests are open again

The ghost of a smile etches across your roommate's lips, Mason listening for the quiet whimper you would let out any time he kissed both of your hips. He tucked your panties into his back pocket, the feel of the lace against his fingers sends his cock rigid. He ignored it, pushed away the thought of him bending you over the dining room table that had been taken over by various notebooks, filled with half-arsed notes and your laptop. You were his first priority.

You were stressed, working yourself to exhaustion to meet deadlines for your second book. The success of your first book, a dystopian piece, where the two lead characters hate each other until they can't take it no more, had put pressure of you to deliver a sequel just as good.

But last night, you couldn't keep your eyes open as the two of you ate dinner, your head slumped against your hand. And when Mason woke up, you were already at the table, earphones stuffed into your ears, a cup of coffee in your hand, barely acknowledging him as he left from this morning's training, and he had to guess you hadn't moved all day.

He had enough. He was going to de-stress you.

"Let me help you," he whispers, lifting your legs over his shoulders to slot himself perfectly between them.

"I gotta finish this chapter," you mumble, the draft open on your laptop, demanding you to finish it.

He pulls you towards him, resting your bum on the edge, and watches you as he blows hot air against your clit. He likes how you squirm, the little gasp you let out.

"It can wait," he insists, waiting for your final protest, but it doesn't come. "Good," he licks his lips watching you nod your head, giving him the confirmation to continue, "now put your hands on the chair,-" you lift your arms, the wooden frame of the chair smooth and cold underneath your hands, "-and take it for me."

He buries his face into you, sucking in a sharp breath and groaning loudly as you started to fill his senses. You were there on his tongue, dripping into his mouth as he lapped it messily through your folds. Your arousal crawled up his nose, leaving his cock to strain painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He was intoxicated and dizzy, and mad for you.

You tip your head back, tightly gripping the chair so you wouldn't break the unspoken rule, and moan as Mason flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit. "Just like that," you arched your back away from the chair. Mason's hold on your thighs was just enough to keep you seated. "Fuck, how are you so good at this?!"

He chuckles, one hand leaving your thigh to wipe his mouth. "Don't think you want me to answer that." He licks his hand, sighing satisfyingly as cleans the traces of you off his fingers.

"Go ahead, tell me their names," you reply, "I don't get jealous; that's not us."

"I know it isn't," he pops his finger into his mouth, sucking until its covered in spit, "that's why I like us so much."

He pushes the tip against you, just penetrating the edge, before withdrawing and tracing it around your hole. He does again and again, teasing you, watching closely as you clench around nothing, showing your desperation to have him inside. He keeps going until you've nearly squirmed off the chair.

"Mason-"

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, kissing your thigh, his grin pressed against your skin, "I'll give you what you want."

Slowly, he inserts one finger, watching it be swallowed up by your cunt. He adds a second, his cock twitching as he feels your walls stretching to accommodate their width. In and out. In and out. Mason fixated on them, loved how wet they looked every time he withdrew them. Your were magical to him.

"Shit, just like that!"

"Taking them so well f'me," he praises, wanting to push your body to your limits and adding a third, "fuck!" He lets out a guttural groan, finding it hard at first to get his words out. All three fingers slipped easily in and out of you. "You were made to take my fingers, baby, taking 'em as good you take my cock."

You tip your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling your body flush with more arousal, the ache in your stomach growing, worsened by his lips latching around your clit. The tight suction jerked your hips forward and you both laugh lightheartedly as Mason stops you from falling.

"Oh, my-" His fingers curl inside you, stroking the right spot on your front wall that has you squeezing them. "Yes, please-yes, yes-"

"Gonna come for me?" He relaxes his lips, switching to flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub. "I know you want to," he grins, the smug expression tugging loosely on the corners of his mouth, "I can feel it, you're squeezing my fingers so tightly, baby. What are you waiting for?"

"For you," you choke out, "waiting for you."

He raises his brows. "Waiting for me to tell you to come?"

You nod your head.

He drops your legs from around his shoulders, his fingers still pressed deep inside, edging you to you orgasm, and rises to his feet. "Look at me," he places his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you, "so pretty like this, eyes so dark and completely fucked out on my fingers."

You whimper at his words, the sound becoming strangled in the back of your throat as he presses his thumb down on your clit.

He drops his lips to your ear, whispering, "Come for me." He kisses the spot below it, remembering the first time he kissed it, how you arched into his body and shivered against him. "Let me help you, baby," he adds, rubbing your clit in slow circles to keep you on the edge, "don't hold anything back, I want it all - the stress, the anxiety, the tiredness - give it all to me."

Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount oneshot #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic

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darthannie · 6 months

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day twenty: mutual masturbation with robert capa

pairing: Robert Capa x f!Reader word count: 719 warnings: making out, masturbation, not reallyyyyyyy canon compliant (I do what I want😎), a/n: My schedule got all fucked! I will still be finishing out kinktober, there's just a huge chance it will go into November. And that's okay! I really liked this prompt. Robert is just so... Yeah kinktober masterlist

Being aboard the Icarus II had its faults, one of them was being stuck on the craft with Robert Capa. Your quarters were next to his, making it too easy to become friends. The entire crew was close enough, but you and Capa were inseparable. The sexual tension between the two of you was one that was often ignored. Everyone sensed it, but you all had an unspoken agreement, don’t fuck another crew member.

That’s why it wasn’t an issue you were currently in his quarters, kissing him with the intensity of someone who had not been touched in years. He grabbed your face as he kissed you. You pulled away just enough to whisper “We can’t…” He responded “I know,” hushed and quiet, “but I need to touch you.” He let out a breathy sigh as his hand reached under your shirt, feeling up your right breast as he felt his pants getting tighter.

You reached underneath his shirt, needing the contact. He took it off and your fingers spread across his chest. He grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“Robert, we really can’t,” you said.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “but we can try something else. No sex. Just touching.” He looked at you expectantly. You nodded slowly, and once you fully understood what he meant you pulled him into a kiss again. He broke away only to strip down as quickly as possible, and you did the same.

He laid back on the bed and you straddled him. This, in hindsight, was not the best idea. His cock brushed against your clit, causing you to shiver. You tried your luck and bucked your hips to cause some friction. You leaned down to kiss him. His hands landed on your hips, stopping your movements. “Fuck, that’s. That’s too much. Too close,” he whispered.

You knew he was right. you stayed still, waiting for his next move. “How about you come here next to me?” He gestured to the spot next to him with his head. You got off him and laid in the open space next to him. You watched as he grasped his cock, slick with the wetness that was left on him from you, and stroked. “Fuck, Capa…” Your fingers slid down to your wet hole and brought them back to your clit. He watched with lidded eyes as you rubbed your clit in circles. He used his precum to lube himself up, continuing to slowly stroke himself.

“Capa, can I touch you?”

“Please,” he said.

You reached over and wrapped your soft hand around him, making him gasp. The sensation of having someone else touch him was something he had been craving for too long. He reached over and moved your hand away from your pussy, replacing it with his. His hand worked quickly. He felt it was his duty to make you feel as good as he did at that moment. He watched as his fingers sunk into you. You moaned his name and grabbed onto his arm.

“Capa, can I please put you in my mouth?”, you begged.

He choked on its breath, “No. Against the rules.” He kissed you, holding your head so you couldn’t pull away. His hips bucked up as he used your hand as his own personal sex toy.

You moaned and your back arched as he curled his fingers. You managed to pull away from the kiss. “And this isn’t against the rules?”

“No, this is just giving a friend a helping hand.”

You felt yourself getting close. He took his fingers out and went back to rubbing your clit. He was struggling to keep quiet and bit his hand to shut himself up. Your breathing was uneven as you came. Somehow, you stayed mostly silent, letting out a quiet moan as you squeezed your eyes shut. You watched as he came on his stomach. He groaned and tried to regulate his breathing, smirking as he looked at you. He pulled you in for a kiss and you straddled him again, wanting to press your body against his.

He pulled away and you kissed his neck, “Do you think it’s against the rules to do this again?”

You looked at him and smiled “No. I don’t think it is.”

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @00hsv, @laylasbunbunny

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#kinktober ‘23 #annie writes #robert capa x reader #robert capa #robert capa x f!reader #robert capa smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader

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yourmomxx · 1 year

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summary: sleepless nights admiring jason

(also yes, I gave him tattoos in this, don’t blame me I’m a whore)

Gotham City Nights were always busy. Always. It was like an unspoken rule, floating heavily above the residents of the city, reminding them that this was, indeed, the place of all worst crime - and that it lived well up to its name.

Nothing easy to digest for someone who had - for whatever idiotic and suicidal reason - decided to move here from somewhere else, somewhere more quiet, or just spend a few days. In the beginning, the never ending howls of dogs and clattering of garbage bins brought anxiety and stole sleep.

It was like the city was doing its own form of natural selection - only the ones with the strongest will and mind would be allowed to stay.

You were one of the people that had not always lived in Gotham, but over time you had gotten used to the city’s cries and tantrums. Similar to right now.

The muffled noise of the Gotham night was heard outside the window.

Busy noises of driving cars, honking, and the one or other siren howling in the distance, all shielded off by solid walls of stone and thick glass.

Not much light usually managed its way up to the apartment and through the curtains, but today it was a full moon and the low white flooded half the room.

You were laying in bed with your boyfriend, Jason Todd. The one and only Red Hood.

He was dressed only in his boxers, considering he was short on his sleeping shirt that you were wearing right now - and had stolen from him.

There was a blanket tangled somewhere between the two of you, but it didn’t really matter. The heat was up, and the landlord never really knew how to manage the right temperature.

You put your chin on his chest and observed the man in front of you. The moonlight made its way through the window and caught on Jason’s face, making the one half light up in cold white and dipping the other in almost utter darkness.

His eyes were closed, pretending to be asleep when he really wasn’t. He knew you knew. But you assumed it was more comfortable for him to rest his eyelids than to force them apart.

You didn’t have a problem with that. You greeted it with happiness, even.

Your body completely draped over his, one leg on each side of his hip, you were absentmindedly tracing the lines that the black ink had left on his arm. Warmth radiated off Jason’s body and into your stomach, where your skin was connected with his, and the broad, marked-up chest lifted and fell in composed breaths.

The lines were thin, then thick, some entangled and the older ones even sometimes blurry.

You traced them feather-lightly with your fingertips, from his lower arm up to his biceps and to his shoulder. The higher you got, the less skin and more ink was visible.

When your finger reached his collarbone, the tattoos began to stray apart again, and you felt his skin make a slight bump under your fingertip. The beginning of the giant y-shaped scar on Jason’s chest. The autopsy scar.

Slowly, carefully, your ran your finger down the healed skin, already turned white after all those years.

There was a time where Jason had been so self-conscious about his wounds, his scars. He rarely took his shirts off whenever he was around you, not even when the two of you had sex. But now, after years of living, and being together, Jason had slowly but surely revealed himself to you. You knew him inside and out, and yet, everytime he let you see him like this, so openly vulnerable, you couldn’t help but feel absolutely fascinated by this man.

Your man.

“What are you doing?” The low rumble of Jason’s sudden voice almost made you jump.

You lifted up your gaze, your finger staying resting where it was on the scar, and came to meet Jason’s, who had apparently opened his eyes and looked at you with an attentive stare.

The moonlight refracting off the edges of his pupils gave his eyes a glimmer of dark sapphires. It fell through his lashes and drew long, slender shadows down his cheek.

As if in trance, your hand reached up to him, pushing back a few strands of loose hair out of his forehead, and caressing his cheek, resting there. The entire time, his eyes didn’t leave you.

“You are so beautiful,” you muttered to him. Jason just kept staring at you, lips slightly parted, eyes stuck with that adoring look of love, and his eyebrows ever so slightly scrunched up as if he was confused.

Jason had very long lashes. You had often been jealous of him because of it. Long, many and thick, shielding his eyes if he wanted them to. But never from you. His eyes could tell you so many stories if you looked into them, stories and thoughts and feelings without ever speaking as much as one word.

You didn’t verbally elaborate to the silent question he was asking, just slowly lowered your head again and placed featherlight, but genuine kisses on the Y-shaped scar on his broad chest.

And when you looked back up, the full moon was still shining through the curtains, still spending his light to kiss Jason’s beautiful face, getting caught in the lashes, dripping from his hair, swirling into his eyes.

‘Beautiful,’ you thought. ‘So, so beautiful.’ No other word came to mind to describe what you were seeing, and yet it was not enough to properly describe the feeling that spread its way through your chest.

The ache and the longing you felt for him, even though he was right there in front of you.

Promptly, you pushed yourself forward and laid your lips onto his. Whatever you felt and couldn’t put into words, you managed to say it through the kiss that you shared with him. How you loved him, and how perfect he was, and how much you wanted him every time of every day, and how you managed to miss him even when he was just. right. there.

Beautiful, beautiful Jason Todd.

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mossmurdock · 2 months

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thinking about being roomates with yuta again. you're both strangers to each other when you move in. the both of you talk about boundaries and habits and whatever else that might prevent an argument in the future. he's a light sleeper, you have a habit of leaving the house late; he likes showering in the morning, yours are at night and don't usually take more than 10 minutes; he's a bit messy, and so are you. you keep the list in the back of your mind and hope the two of you get along. he seems nice.

it doesn't take long for the both of you to grow accustomed to each other's schedules. there unsurprisingly isn't much overlap between when the both of you are home because of your differing courses. you catch glimpses of each other throughout the day. after lunch. after your 2:30. right before you finally tuck into bed late on wednesdays and fridays.

despite this there is a time in the week where you completely align. sundays are completely free. the apartment for once actually feels like it's being shared rather than simply cohabited.

silently, a part of you wishes it were always like this. part of you hates to mention that all the time spent away from the house isn't much time that's actually spent at all. stuck at the library, or any other odd in-between, you secretly count down the seconds to catch his figure retreating into his room just as you plant yourself on the couch.

you find out he's actually a little more odd than you initially thought, catching yourself wondering if he's thinking the same about you.

weirdly, as time pushes on and sundays continue to pass you by with him intwined into them, you can't help but notice the growing tension between the two of you.

new unspoken rules begin to rise. the spoken agreements are silently broken. glimpses turn into glances and then those fester into looks and gazes. eventually they're returned. you aren't sure who started it first, looking down and finding just as much dirt beneath your own nails.

things were fine once, simply civil at its worst. yet now they seem to have been flipped over and disturbed. the growing connection between you two should have you raising your brows, but you've never felt so pleasantly looked forward to.

#i have no idea what this is i just basically threw up these words onto the page #um yeah!#moss writes #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuta x reader

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herrscherofinsanity · 3 months

Text

She's Not Afraid

How come she's so afraid of falling in love?

This is kind of a bit of everything.

Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Man, I miss 1D...

In the bustling college scene, Yu Jimin emerged as a captivating enigma. With an air of confidence that turned heads, she sneaked out of her dorm in the middle of the night, clad in a tight dress that flirted with the boundaries of daring fashion. The top cut low, revealing just enough to leave onlookers in awe of her allure.

Yu Jimin was addicted, not to substances or fleeting thrills, but to the intoxicating feeling of letting go, of feeling free. She embraced the pulsating rhythm of the night, where rules dissolved into whispers and adventures beckoned with each step. The campus whispered about her fearless demeanor. An untamed spirit that danced to its rhythm, untethered and unafraid, that was Yu Jimin.

Beneath the surface of this captivating persona, Jimin harbored a secret fear – a fear not of the daring escapades she reveled in, but of something far more profound. A fear of letting her guard down, of surrendering to the vulnerable dance of love…

As she walked into any room, the atmosphere seemed to shift, lighting up with an undeniable allure. Everyone wanted a piece of her, yearning for a chance to bask in the glow she effortlessly emitted.

Jimin reveled in the attention, the unspoken desires that followed her every move. Whispers trailed her, each gaze a silent plea to be noticed. Yet, amidst the crowd vying for her attention, there was one person who held a unique place in Jimin's world – you.

Behind closed doors, away from the watchful eyes, you and the campus sweetheart shared a secret. Your connection was a dance between heartbeats, a casual intertwining of two souls that craved each other's presence. Jimin, the beacon of desire for many, found solace in the stolen moments when you became the only one privileged to take her home, privileged enough to claim her even if just for a fleeting moment.

It was a curious thing, really. In the midst of the vibrant social tapestry, there you were – a presence that didn't necessarily demand attention, residing in the comfortable middle ground between popularity and obscurity. You navigated the hallways without leaving a mark, a subtle existence that blended into the background.

Despite your unassuming status, there was something about you that had caught Jimin's discerning eye. In the sea of faces, it was yours that lingered in Jimin's thoughts, a captivating mystery that beckoned to be explored. Unbeknownst to many, you held a special place in the heart of the campus sensation, an enigma that only the two of you shared.

____________________

Jimin had first noticed you when you accidentally walked into the wrong classroom.

The campus sweetheart was waiting for her professor, a bored expression on her face as she drummed her fingers on the desk occupied. You walked into the classroom, a sense of urgency in your actions. You looked around, not recognizing the faces occupying the room. As you realized your mistake, crimson filled your cheeks. You quickly walked out of the room, muttering something under your breath.

Jimin watched on; she didn’t recognize the blushing student, but she felt a spark of interest igniting in her. Curiouser and curiouser…

The next time Jimin noticed you, you seemed to be waiting for something.

You were leaning against a wall, headphones in, head bobbing along to whatever was playing through them. Jimin stood nearby, waiting for her friends to show up. Trying to occupy herself to make time go faster, Jimin decided to people watch, and that’s when you caught her eye for a second time.

Jimin remembered you as the embarrassed student who ran away from her classroom, but you didn’t look anything like that as you casually stood there. Jimin’s eyes scanned your figure, she noticed the way you ran a hand through your hair, the way you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at your phone.

Feeling someone staring at you, you couldn’t help but look up. You locked eyes with the campus sensation, a shiver running down your spine when your eyes met her intimidating stare. Did I offend her somehow?

You noticed the way her eyes slowly went up and down, staring at every inch of your body, a lazy smile on her lips. You gulped, your nerves sky rocketing. Before you could do something stupid, you turned your attention back to your phone. Maybe if you pretend she’s not there she’ll go away. Little did you know, this small action piqued Jimin’s interest.

Jimin sauntered over with an air of confidence, her footsteps deliberate and purposeful. She could tell she had piqued your interest, and that only fueled her determination. Standing beside you, Jimin tilted her head to the side, letting her signature smile play on her lips.

"Hey there," she said in a casual tone, as if you were just two friends meeting on a regular day. "You seem a bit lost or maybe just caught in your world of music. Either way, mind some company?"

You glanced at her, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected approach. Jimin's eyes held a mixture of mischief and genuine curiosity. Despite the initial surprise, you found her easygoing demeanor somewhat reassuring.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm yn, by the way."

Jimin extended her hand for a handshake, her touch warm and confident. "Jimin. Nice to meet you, yn. So, what's the story behind the serious phone contemplation?"

You chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease with Jimin's friendly approach. "Just waiting for some friends, passing the time with music. How about you? What brings you here?"

She leaned casually against the wall, a glint of playfulness in her eyes. "Oh, just exploring the fascinating world of campus life. And, of course, meeting interesting people like you."

Jimin's charisma started to break down the initial awkwardness, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Little did you know, this encounter marked the beginning of a series of interactions that would gradually pull you into Jimin's orbit.

____________________

Jimin's approach was as subtle as it was deliberate. In the midst of casual encounters and fleeting glances, Jimin found a way to engage you in conversation. It started innocently enough, a playful banter here and there that gradually evolved into something more daring.

At first, you resisted, cautious of the magnetic pull that Jimin seemed to exude. However, Jimin, with her charming persistence, managed to break down those initial barriers. Through whispered promises and shared secrets, Jimin persuaded you into sharing fleeting moments tangled in her sheets.

In the dimly lit room, the air thick with anticipation, you and Jimin found yourselves entangled in a delicate dance of attraction. As you sat alone in the quiet corners of Jimin’s dorm room, the older girl’s voice dropped to a soft whisper. "You know," she began, her gaze fixed on you, "there's something about you that I can't quite resist."

You were caught in the intensity of Jimin's eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of vulnerability. "What are you trying to say?" you asked, your guard momentarily slipping.

Jimin, ever the master of allure, leaned in, her breath dancing against your ear, one of her hands purposefully drawing patterns across your inner thigh. "I'm saying I want you. Why don’t you give yourself to me? No strings attached of course, just two people enjoying each other's company."

The proposition hung in the air, the unspoken promise lingering between you. You were torn between caution and curiosity, but finally, you nodded in agreement. Jimin, pleased by your reaction, sealed the deal by capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You couldn’t help the gasp that came out of your mouth when she squeezed your thigh.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”.

As your encounters continued, the two of you carefully crafted the boundaries of your arrangement – a silent understanding that emotions were to be left at the door. Yet, beneath the surface, a complexity unfurled, a yearning that defied the very rules that had been set.

In the intricate dance of your dynamic, you longed for something beyond the physical connection between you and the older girl. Each time you tentatively voiced your desire for more, for a connection that extended beyond the confines of casual encounters, Jimin, with a deft hand, closed the door on the prospect of emotional entanglement.

Even though you weren’t defined by popularity, you had an undeniable allure that captured Jimin's attention. You knew this. You tried your best to charm Jimin into more meaningful moments, your desire for a deeper connection became evident. You wanted to unravel the layers of Jimin that went beyond mindless sex.

Jimin, on the other hand, was the one who resisted, content with the simplicity of your current arrangement. Whenever you broached the subject of a more profound connection, Jimin promptly disagreed, determined to maintain the status quo of your casual involvement. She was happy with the fleeting moments you two shared, why couldn’t you feel the same?

The door to emotional vulnerability, though slightly ajar, was swiftly closed by Jimin, leaving you grappling with the longing for a connection that seemed elusive.

As you reflect on the intricacies of your encounters with Jimin, you can’t help but finds yourself captivated by the fearless essence that defines Jimin's character. The shared moments are a blend of excitement and passion, leaving you enamored by the thrill of the experiences you seem to create together. Jimin, unafraid of attention and embracing the wild side of life, embodies a spirit that draws you in. Jimin is dangerous, get too close and you’ll get addicted.

Yet, amidst the allure of your connection, you are haunted by a lingering question that echoes in your mind. Why is Jimin so vehemently opposed to the idea of falling in love? The chemistry between you two feels undeniably right, and the shared moments, whether in the darkness of a kiss or the thrill of a scary movie, evoke a sense of completeness. It feels real.

In the midst of the seemingly carefree encounters, you sense a contradiction—a fear residing within Jimin when it comes to the vulnerability of love. As you contemplate the dangerous dance you have going on with Jimin, you can’t ignore the fact that if the situation goes for longer, you’ll end up getting hurt. But letting go of Jimin? That’s not something you’re willing to do, at least not right now.

____________________

Late-night calls from Jimin became a habitual occurrence. Your phone would buzz, and the familiar name on the screen would send your heart on a roller coaster ride. The conversations that ensued were laden with innuendos and sultry suggestions, Jimin's voice coaxing you into late-night rendezvous.

You grappled with the surge of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. You felt an undeniable pull towards Jimin, an attraction that transcended the realm of mere physical desire. However, Jimin's persistent reluctance to delve into emotional territories left you grappling with a sense of longing and emptiness.

One evening, after a particularly intense encounter, you couldn't suppress the question that lingered on your lips. "Jimin, why do we keep doing this? Is there a chance for something more?"

Jimin, draped in shadows, sighed audibly. She was irritated by your question, it was obvious. "yn, we have something good. Why complicate it with emotions and labels?"

Your heart sank, the ambiguity of the arrangement casting shadows on the vulnerability you dared not expose. You yearned for more, you wanted to properly call the other girl yours, but Jimin's steadfast resistance to emotional connection painted a poignant reality that you had to navigate.

____________________

The situation between you and Jimin had grown even more dangerous than before. Months ago, Jimin would only call you if she wanted a quick fuck, nothing more. She would come over, get it done and leave. Now, it seemed like she was opening up to you.

Jimin would still call you late at night, but it was no longer for sex. At least, that wasn’t the only reason anymore. She would call you to talk about everything and anything, simply to pass the time. Whenever you guys had sex, she would stay and cuddle for a while. She even slept over every once in a while.

Maybe this were all signs that Jimin was ready for more, ready to take the next step with you.

____________________

Late at night, your voices echoed through the phone, sharing secrets and dreams that transcended the physical realm. Jimin, usually reserved, found solace in the quiet vulnerability of those late-night conversations. You discovered a side of Jimin that transcended the playful heartbreaker facade.

One night, Jimin shared a childhood memory that left her feeling exposed. You listened intently, realizing that beneath the confident exterior was a person who had faced struggles and insecurities. In those moments, your connection deepened, and the boundaries between physical and emotional began to blur.

"You know, when I was a kid, I used to be terrified of thunderstorms. It sounds silly, right?" Jimin said, it was pretty out of the blue. You had to pause for a second, trying to collect your thoughts.

Intrigued by this revelation, you responded warmly, "Not silly at all. Everyone has their fears. What happened?"

"Well, one night, there was this huge storm. Lightning lit up the sky, and thunder roared like an angry beast. I was scared out of my mind. My parents were away, and I felt so alone. But then, my older sister, she must've seen how scared I was, came into my room." Jimin shared, a softness in her voice that you had never heard before.

"That's really sweet of her”, you whispered back, “what did she do?".

Jimin continued her story, you could practically hear the smile on her face, "She sat with me the entire night, telling me stories and making silly jokes to distract me from the storm. It was the first time I felt someone truly cared about my fears. I guess it left a mark on me."

You smiled on the other end of the line, feeling a deeper connection forming between you.

"That's a beautiful memory, Jimin. Thanks for sharing that with me."

"Yeah, well, not many people know about it. But you... I don't know, I feel like I can be myself around you." Her statement was almost enough to send you into cardiac arrest.

You cherished these stolen moments, allowing yourself to believe that there was more to your connection than Jimin was willing to admit. Despite the lingering fear of heartbreak, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the chance to truly understand the enigma that was Yu Jimin.

____________________

Late one night, you found yourself unable to contain the emotions that swirled within you. You took a deep breath, the words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. "Jimin, I think I'm falling for you."

Silence lingered on the line before Jimin's response echoed through the phone. "yn, don't overcomplicate this. It's just physical. Nothing more."

Oh.

Your heart sank, the sting of rejection seeping into your bones. No matter how genuine your feelings, Jimin brushed them off as if they were inconsequential, leaving you with the bitter taste of unrequited emotions.

You truly can’t keep doing this with her.

____________________

As more nights spent under the sheets with Jimin went by, you gathered the courage to ask for something more, something beyond the confines of the usual heated encounters.

Jimin and you were currently occupying the couch on her apartment. Your head was resting on her clothed chest, you felt completely at ease, lulled by her heart beat. Meanwhile, Jimin lazily drew patterns across your back, a contented sigh leaving her lips. In the midst of the pleasant moment, you summoned the courage to give Jimin a piece of your heart once again.

"Jimin, I've been thinking... can't we try for something real? Something more than just this..." you whispered, scared of getting the usual rejection.

Jimin, conflicted by her own fears, responded hesitantly, "yn, we've been over this. I can't give you what you want."

Disappointment sank into your heart once more, but you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. You made a pause, not wanting to cry on front of the other girl.

"I understand, Jimin.”, you began, “It's just... I thought maybe we could have something meaningful."

Jimin, avoiding eye contact, reiterated her stance, "I'm not good at this, yn. I can't promise you something I'm not sure I can deliver." She finished with a sigh, you pulled away form her. Jimin looked at you as you pulled away from her embrace, something akin to regret flashing across her eyes.

With a heavy heart, you finally realized that the depth you sought might be unattainable with Jimin. You quietly stood up, grabbing your belongings. Jimin watched on, a curious look in her eyes. Surely you weren’t going to do anything reckless, you guys had something good going on after all.

"I guess I should go. Take care, Jimin.", said girl had never heard you so sad and vulnerable.

Jimin, watching you leave, felt a pang of regret but couldn't bring herself to stop you from walking away. The door closed behind you, leaving a lingering silence in Jimin's apartment.

____________________

Several days passed since you made the painful decision to end the ‘relationship’ you had with Jimin. As the weight of your decision settled in, you mustered the courage to convey your feelings to Jimin. You were going to put yourself first, just like you should’ve done from the start.

"Jimin, we can't keep doing this. It's not healthy for either of us. I need more than what we have, and it's clear you can't give that to me. I've decided... we should stop." you told her when she asked you to meet at your usual spot behind some rarely frequented classrooms.

Jimin, caught off guard and grappling with her own internal struggle, tried to find the right words. You couldn’t possibly be talking about leaving her, you loved her.

"yn, I... I know I've been distant. It's just hard for me to open up like that. But I can try, I really can. Just give me some time." Jimin pleaded, a vulnerability that you had never seen before shone through her eyes. Nevertheless, you couldn’t give in so easily.

As your eyes glistened with unshed tears, you shook your head.

"Jimin, we've been down this road before. I can't keep waiting for something that you’ve made very clear is never gonna happen. It's best if we go our separate ways.”, you expressed with as much conviction as you could, even if you felt like fainting.

As you turned to leave, Jimin's voice trembled with a mix of sadness and desperation.

"Wait, yn.”, she desperately grabbed onto your hand, “Don't go. I... I don't want to lose you." She whispered.

You, tears now rolling down your cheeks, faced Jimin with a conflicted expression.

"Jimin, I care about you, more than I should, but I can't keep living in limbo. It's hurting both of us. Goodbye, Jimin."

With that, you walked away, leaving Jimin standing alone, grappling with her emotions and the realization that she might have lost something precious.

____________________

Nights turned into a blur for Jimin as she found herself revisiting the old messages and pictures you had shared. Each text held a piece of your evolving connection, and Jimin couldn't escape the sense of loss that permeated her thoughts.

As she stared at her phone screen, Jimin couldn’t help but mumble to herself, "maybe I should've been more open with yn. She meant more to me than I realized."

As the days passed, your absence became more pronounced. Jimin found herself longing for the late-night conversations that extended beyond mere desire. The void you left behind wasn't just physical; it echoed in the silence of Jimin's apartment.

One evening, fueled by a cocktail of emotions, Jimin made a resolute decision to find you and attempt to mend the fragments of your fractured bond. The realization hit her – you were much more than just a fleeting encounter; you had become an integral part of Jimin's life.

"I can't let her slip away. I need to find yn and make things right." Jimin whispered to herself as she saw your smiling face reflected on her phone.

With determination etched on her face, Jimin embarked on a quest to seek you out and address the unresolved emotions that lingered between you.

____________________

Jimin stood outside your apartment, a mix of apprehension and determination etched on her face. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door, her heart pounding with uncertainty. As the door creaked open, your eyes widened in surprise and a whirlwind of emotions.

"What are you doing here?" Jimin flinched at the coldness of your tone, you had never spoken to her in that way.

Jimin awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. Boy was this going to be hard, "Can we talk? I... I need to explain."

Reluctantly, you allowed Jimin inside, the air heavy with unspoken words. You settled on the couch, an awkward silence hanging between you.

"Yn, I messed up. I didn't realize how much you meant to me until you were gone." she spoke in the softest tone she could muster, not wanting to scare you away.

"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Oh brother.

Jimin proceeded to pour her heart out, expressing the depth of her feelings and acknowledging the significance of your connection beyond the physical. She explained the emptiness she felt without your presence and the realization that you weren't just another fleeting encounter.

"I miss the late-night talks, the laughter, the way you challenged me. yn, you're not just someone I hook up with. You became a part of my life, and I want you to know that.", she paused, as if getting ready for something "I want you to know you're the first girl I've ever truly loved".

You listened, conflicted by the sincerity in Jimin's words. The emotional conversation continued, unraveling the layers of your complex relationship. You voiced your own struggles and the desire for something more meaningful than your initial arrangement.

"Jimin, I can't keep doing this if it's just physical. I want more, but I can't keep getting hurt."

Jimin, realizing the gravity of your words, made a promise to open up emotionally and work towards a deeper connection. If it meant she got to keep you in her life, she would do anything. Want her to build you a castle in the sky? Hell, she will build two. But how could she prove that to you?

"I am very aware of the fact that I hurt you, I played with your feelings and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, yn." She hesitantly grabbed your hand, thanking every deity she could think off when you didn't pull away.

"Give me one more chance, my love. Just one. If I let you down one more time, I promise to walk out of your life and never hurt you again". As she said this words, she took of one of the bracelets she always made sure to have on her person. She looked at you for a second before putting her bracelet on your wrist, a soft look in her eyes. "I got that from my older sister a long time ago, it means that I'll always have a place at home, no matter where I am. I want you to have it because I realized you're my home".

In the warmth of your shared conversation, Jimin's heartfelt expressions finally reach your heart. Despite your reservations, you could see the sincerity in Jimin's eyes and feel a genuine connection that transcends the physical.

"Okay, Jimin. I'll give us another chance." you said, eyes welling up with tears thanks to your overwhelming emotions.

Jimin's eyes lit up with an indescribable joy. She can't believe her luck, realizing that maybe, just maybe, she's not afraid of falling in love, there won't be a problem as long as you're the one who will catch her.

"Thank you, yn. I promise I'll make it right this time. No more keeping you at arm's length."

As you embrace the possibility of a renewed connection, a subtle shift occurs in both of you. The fear that once held you back begins to dissipate, making way for the potential of something deeper and more profound.

With forgiveness and a shared commitment to navigate the complexities of your emotions, Jimin and you embark on a new chapter, ready to explore the uncharted territories of love that await you. The once tentative and guarded hearts now beat in unison, daring to believe that love might not be as frightening as you once thought.

____________________

A/N: Hi! You guys do know "She's not afraid" by One Direction, right? I rewrote so many times, I had Minjeong in mind when I first thought of it, then Roseanne came to mind, then Twice had a comeback and I totally changed it up to Nayeon, but in the end I thought it would fit Jimin. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it and thanks for reading! If you have a request feel free to send it in, I'll get to it when I get the chance.

I did not proofread this btw, I'm sorry in advance

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fire-lizard-ro · 4 months

Note

Could I request Jing Yuan slowly falling in love with a baker reader who manages to win his heart through the power of delicious baked treats?

Oml thank you so much anon I can finally write a request for my beloved malewife JY. <333

Reader gender: gender neutral

It starts out on a peaceful afternoon. I imagine that no matter how busy the Arbiter-General of the Luofu is, he likes to occasionally take breaks from the Seat of Divine Foresight to take a stroll or visit places on the ship to see how things are going. Despite his fame, I like to think that people have enough respect for their dear general that when he's out on these outings, they'll allow him his privacy.

On these walks, he likes to find something to eat if the timing is right. Seeing as it's just past lunch and he's yet to eat, Jing Yuan supposed it would be good to find somewhere to grab a bite while he was out.

It's then that Jing Yuan stumbles across your bakery. Initially he merely listed it as an option in the back of his mind, filing it away as a new bakery he'd have to try out later or maybe now if none of the other places suited his fancy that day. But then as he began to pass... The smell that wafted out from the door as a smiling customer left the building convinced him to go inside. He was pleased to find that while it did have Xianzhou specialties, it also had foods from beyond the fleet's norm.

Another thing that he was pleasantly surprised with was you, the owner of the bakery. Even with the unspoken rule of allowing the general his leisure time in peace, many would at least gawp at him for a bit before poorly hiding their awe and shock at seeing him in their shop. But you merely waved at him just as you did the customer who'd entered before him. The feeling of being treated just as a normal person was... Very nice. Jing Yuan's ever present smile widened a tad as he nodded to you before going back to perusing the options behind the glass of the counters.

He decided to get a wife cake (sweetheart cake) to enjoy on his way back to his office. The exchange between you two was easy and pleasant. You did your job and nothing more. Though- it was done with a smile and in such a way that he felt quite comfortable.

When he left, he glanced at you again. You were seeing other customers, not sparing him another glance.

Taking a bite of the wife cake, he found that it was better than any he remembered having before and the flavor brought back memories of times gone by. How lovely. Perhaps he'd have to visit your bakery again.

And he certainly did. Over time, the two of you built up a rapport. You were his favorite baker, and he, your loyal customer. Something about your baking made him feel warm inside. When he asked what you did to make them taste so good, you would respond that you baked them in the hopes of each good you sold bringing just a little more joy to the lives of those who ate them. He chuckled and said that it was surprisingly believable.

At some point, he became aware of the fact that the two of you were becomming... quite close. Concerningly so.

I like to think that with the life he's lead and with the personality he has, Jing Yuan is the type of person to give his affections freely. But his trust is hard won. Sitting in the seat of an Arbiter-General, not only has he had to lead troops to victory, but he's had to manuever on the political battlefield as well. After holding his title for longer than most of his peers and having to be the one so plan behind the scenes... Always planning ten steps ahead of everyone else... It would be hard to put his trust in others. Especially when you add on what happened to his old friends. Sometimes, no matter how good he is at what he does, fate will take matters into its own hands.

So when he notices this predicament... he's a bit... afraid, honestly. Huh- The Divine Foresight himself, afraid? It was the truth. He was still mortal and still had his fears and flaws.

Even so, he had no real reason to avoid you. Especially because he thought it would be best to continue as normal so as to not alarm you. You two did have a solid friendship after all this time... As much as you could when he held you at arms length.

Yet there was still tension there. In the brush of fingers when Jing Yuan handed over his payments and when you'd give him what he'd bought. The smiles the two of you would exchange. The heartfelt words that you gave Jing Yuan even when he was trying to keep a firm distance between the two of you. It made him feel a bit guilty for keeping a wall up when you were none the wiser... And perhaps the kicker was the way his heart felt full of warmth when eating the pasteries and other snacks you'd prepared for him specifically that morning, knowing he'd be in. The simple pleasure of always knowing you'd have food he'd more than enjoy ready for him. Knowing that you made it for him. Knowing you cared enough to do so. Knowing how much care and love you put into everything he ate.

And it was a moment like that in which he realized he was already too far gone.

He had been enjoying one of his favorites of yours while sitting in your shop, having enough time that afternoon to do so. He was brought back to memories of his old friends and comrads... And this time. Warm, fond memories of you. That was... new. It was then that he heard your laughter, causing the man to look up as you patted the hand of a woman who was smiling widely at you. She had been thanking you profusely for your help in making her anniversary with her boyfriend so wonderful. They had both loved the pastries and said that it seemed to make their hearts even more filled that day.

Oh.

Oh no.

His eyes crinkled as he felt a smile stretch across his face, unbidden.

He was in love with you.

From that point on, he subtly did what he could to become even closer to you. Let down his walls and allow you in. Just you. He did things to subtly court you, as well. Little gifts here and there that show his sincerety and that he remembered the things you said to him. Sometimes this would include ingredients you needed for the bakery. Eventually, he even gifts you a hairpin (even if you don't have long hair, this is mostly for the symbolism).

It was that gift that made you realize his intentions. It was a quiet morning, even before you opened shop that he stood in the back with you, under the artificial light of the shop and in casual wear due to a day off he took for this. Quietly and softly he told you that he had a gift for you and took your hand gently in his to place the elegant hairpin. He softly closed your hand around it with the hand that had previously been holding the hairpin, your hand and said hairpin held tenderly between his two larger, calloused and scarred hands. When you looked up into his eyes, searching, you saw how they had narrowed and clinkled at the edges with his warm smile. This was not a side of him you'd ever seen before in more than the barest of glimpses.

With a slow grin that he matched when he saw it, you leaned up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down into a kiss.

It seemed that not only your food could warm his heart.

Thank you again for the request! Feel free to send in another one~ Especially if it's for JY I love him so so much ijogee I could talk about him for daayyyysssss.

#Roro writes #asks answered #gn reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x gn reader #MY WIIIIIIFFFEEEEE-#he's my bbgrl my wife my EVERYTHING I LOVE HIM #a-yuan you're so cute ily-

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eggymf-archived · 11 months

Text

the art of persuasion;

ft. ominis gaunt x f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: revenge, cheating, 6th year, slytherin!reader/mc, dark!reader/mc, cheater!sebastian, implied dark!ominis, subinis (for now), one-sided pining, slytherins being slytherins

warnings: nsfw, pwp?, smut, toxic behavior, manipulation, no romance, blowjob, cowgirl, p in v

summary: you discover your boyfriend's illicit little escapades in the restricted section with another girl. you plan to destroy them both using a certain potion, and a willing volunteer. amongst the array of selections at your disposal for your plan, you had your eyes on one specific person – his own best friend.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: romance is dead and horny is alive. there’s a part 2 for this – don’t ask why. *sweats* (for some reason that sounded like a damn poem i–)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

It has been more than a month since the truth behind your nagging doubts and restless nights finally revealed itself. Like any other woman with a keen intuition especially towards their grimy, unfaithful lovers, you were unfortunately right about your suspicions towards your boyfriend of almost a year, Sebastian Sallow.

To say that you did not have the slightest idea that he'd do such a thing was a complete lie — sure you weren't an academic wonder, but you certainly weren't that daft.

Alana Crowley — a fellow 6th year student from Slytherin. A friendly, seemingly unproblematic young lady at first, until she decided to latch her claws onto your boyfriend, that is. She had been awfully clingy around Sebastian for the past two months, and that foul git of a lover had no qualms with her blatant display of her not-so-subtle forms of affection. In fact, he seems to thrive in the attention, much to your dismay.

You've seen the looks he had given her. You've felt the all-familiar sparks between them during their seemingly harmless interactions and stares. As the woman whom he loved first, you were aware of Sebastian’s irresistible ways of communicating with his eyes: his longing stares, the way it twinkles when a mere glance was spared towards him, and how its warmth enraptured the entirety of your being the moment he gazes upon you with raw adoration.

He was doing the same tactics he had used in capturing your poor little naïve heart during one summer getaway after your 5th year. He might as well just slap you on the face for using the same tricks on another woman — it all hurts the same either way. But the fact that he had been doing all these scandals right under your nose however? Absolutely unforgivable.

What you hadn't expected was how you ended up finding out: witnessing him doing the deed with his little side piece in the Restricted Section. It was the day when the both of you had planned a study session together for your NEWTS with Ominis Gaunt, his best friend. Sebastian was uncharacteristically late, thus you and Ominis went looking for him, and unfortunately ended up stumbling upon the scene.

“Wait! Hngh–! What will you do if your girlfriend finds out— haaaah! A-about this?”

“She won't. She doesn’t even suspect a thing. Everything’s under control, lo— oh fuck!”

Those were the exact words both you and Ominis had heard as they engaged in their explicitly raunchy little act while you pathetically watched behind the bookshelves. Betrayal was a brutal weight, and it had clasped itself around your ankle within that moment, submerging you within the icy depths of bitter realization.

You thought he’d be faithful to you like he had promised. Hell, the both of you went through that absolute shitstorm during your 5th year together. Surely that accounts for at least some form of loyalty and honesty about each other's feelings and intentions, right? But alas, he had broken that simple unspoken rule, and your trust towards him was no more.

While you were right to trust him with your secret regarding your unusual magical prowess, you've made a fatal mistake of entrusting your heart to his bloodied hands. Yet despite the gravity of the situation, no tears, hysterics, or even any form of hints were shown of how utterly devastated you truly were.

There was no way in hell that you, (Y/F/N), the famed wielder of ancient magic, would crumble over a mere cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his own filthy little flobberworm in his pants.

Perhaps Sebastian didn’t know you that well after all, because if he did, he wouldn't have dared to incur your anger the second time around. It was fair to say that you’d let him have a taste of his own ignorance and foolishness, and you weren't afraid of forgoing the brakes and letting your unbridled rage hit him like a Graphorn on a wild rampage.

Thus, here you were, currently standing in front of the potions station within the Room of Requirement. You’ve been keeping a watchful eye over the bubbling concoction that you had been secretly brewing for nearly a month.

Three measures of boomslang skin… One measure of bicorn horn… High temperature for twenty seconds…

Upon stirring the thick, mud-like mixture, you quickly set your stirring utensil aside, letting the potion brew within the cauldron. There were two remaining pieces left in completing the little set-up that you've constructed out of your own pettiness, which consisted of this particular potion and a willing volunteer.

For the most part, the former was complete. But the latter? That was an entirely different problem on its own, but you had your ways.

An echoing creak resounded throughout the magical space as the doors of the Room of Requirement swung open, revealing your fellow 6th year Slytherin friend with slicked back blonde hair, holding up his wand which was blinking red at the tip. The opal-eyed male sauntered towards you carefully, avoiding any possible objects he might collide against.

“Glad you made it, Ominis,” you welcomed. You gently grabbed his arm as you guided him towards the nearby chaise lounge. He sat comfortably at the rather cushy seat, a smile present on his face.

“I came here as soon as I got your owl, and I apologize for the delay too. Sebastian's been quite slippery as of late,” he sighed. You plopped down beside the male while a floating tea set poured you both a cup of tea, to which Ominis accepted with utmost gratitude.

“Not surprised,” you nonchalantly drawled as you savored your Earl Grey tea. “He doesn't loiter around his usual spots as of late. I wonder why.”

The pure nonchalance of your sarcasm caused a chuckle to arise from him before partaking in his own beverage. Your eyes trained towards his unseeing ones that seemed to have this knowing glimmer. With the countless vexations that both you and Sebastian had brought upon him during your 5th year, it was now Ominis' second nature to detect your devious little plans from a mile away, ready to reel you in whenever you got too far.

Which brings you to the oh-so-burning question that was living rent-free within your mind: why is he, out of all people, helping you?

Setting his teacup aside to the nearby side table, he reached for the inner pocket of his coat, grabbing a vial containing several strands of dark brown hair.

“Managed to nick it off him this morning before he woke up. Thankfully he slept like a log,” he hummed. You grinned at him, levitating the vial to the nearby cabinet beside the potions station. Ominis leaned back against the backrest of the lounge with his legs in a figure four lock.

“Also, I believe we have pressing matters to discuss, (Y/N)?” his posh-toned query cuts through the momentary silence. “Surely you didn't invite me all the way to the Room of Requirement just to deliver several strands of hair.”

“Perceptive as always,” you smiled mirthlessly, eyes and tone getting slightly darker as your teacup floated off to the nearby table. “You’re right. We need to talk.”

“...Go on.”

“I’ll be frank with you. I’m not quite sure as to why you’d even agree to this little request of mine in the first place,” you admitted. “So kindly enlighten me, Ominis. You're far from the type who would engage in petty little acts of vengeance. Why exactly are you helping me?”

Ominis bit his lip, silently cursing within his head as he racked through his mind for a valid excuse. While he couldn't blame you for your cautiousness given that Sebastian himself was his closest friend, this was a topic that he had desperately avoided out of fear of rejection and for the sake of preserving his friendship with his oldest friend. That’s right — he was in love with you, and has always been eversince you’ve deemed yourself worthy of his trust.

You’ve always had him wrapped around your pretty little finger even before he became aware of the butterflies. He loved you enough to forgo his own wants and needs of having you; to keep you close yet far enough so that he'd never be able to claim you for himself out of the bare minimum respect towards you and his best friend. He settled for your presence, pining hopelessly for the real thing, and he wasn't about to let his demons run rampant and ruin everything no matter how strong his urges were.

Or so he thought.

“A mere extension of my own good will towards a dear friend. Nothing more,” he answered stiffly with a trace of longingness evident within his misty orbs. This minute detail, however, doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp, calculating eyes.

“Whether Sebastian's my best friend or not, infidelity is deplorable. Whatever acts of vengeance you have in mind is both warranted and well-deserved,” he added firmly.

You hummed in response, seemingly satisfied yet not entirely convinced with the purity of his intentions. Your eyes gazed upon him coyly, your lips curling upwards.

“Perhaps. But that's not your only reason now, is it?”

Ominis froze as you chuckled knowingly, an underlying dark tone present within your seemingly innocent display of amusement. His exhalation was slow, feeling your presence come nearer towards him. Much to his surprise, you pushed his leg that rested atop the other, lodging your knees in between his lower limbs. Dainty hands rested themselves gingerly upon his shoulders, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

“Surely you have your own motives, Ominis. You know what I’m brewing, yet here you are, giving into my little whims…” you trailed off with a hint of smugness in your whisper. His heart hammered at the featherlight touch that trailed itself along his prominent jaw.

“Now, let me word my question differently this time. What exactly do you hope to get from all of this?”

The sudden calloused allure of your tone caused the blonde-haired lad's breath to hitch. He gulped, breathing slowly and deeply to calm the raging tempo within his chest. His lips remained pursed — this was obviously not a good time for a romantic confession, and silence was the best option if he wished to keep his pesky little feelings under wraps.

The madness within him was less noble with its intentions, however. It was a perfect opportunity to whisk you away at your most vulnerable emotional state — to steal you from Sebastian after that unsavory stunt that he had pulled. He’d do anything to have you. Anything. But alas, the demon itself was constrained by the chains of his strong morals, never to see the light of day.

Unfortunately, you were a lot more quick-witted than he thought, capable of putting two and two together: the way he’d comply to all your requests, how he instantly comes to your rescue, his willingness to put up with this ridiculous plan, the rosy hue that was slowly creeping up his pale complexion — all of it finally made sense.

“You like me, don't you?”

His silence was more than enough, and the frown that was once on your pretty face morphed into a satisfied smirk. You leaned back, letting your eyes feast on his flustered state. A devious improvised plan formulated itself within your head and a sultry giggle escaped your lips.

His thin lips were soon parted by your thumb. The said digit invaded his cavern, to which he welcomed by lightly grazing his tongue against your skin. He yelped as you gripped his chin harshly with your thumb hooked within his mouth, forcing him to look up while you gazed down upon his face with cold (E/C) eyes.

“Well?” you teasingly whispered, the pad of your thumb smearing his own saliva onto his lips as you await his answer. “Do you?”

“... Yes… Yes, I do,” he rasps, his morals finally consumed by the wildfire of his own desires.

“Good.”

And just like that, he fell right into your trap.

You gently lowered yourself onto Ominis’ lap, straddling him while your lips claimed his into a searing kiss. The opal-eyed man softly whined, dragging his palms along your thinly-clothed thighs before resting his hands on your derriere. A delightful purr erupted from your throat before biting on his lip as he snuck his fingertips under the thin layer of your knickers, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze.

Feeling your lungs burn for air, the both of you parted, gasping and heaving. Your (E/C) orbs were hazy, clouded with both carnal desire and smugness. The way your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's best friend looked so helplessly eager to give his entirety to you gave you a dizzying rush of prideful feminine arrogance.

You sat upright while his hands drifted to your waist with evident impatience. Your clothed slit was now aligned right onto the stiff tent on his trousers. A breathy, euphoric moan escaped his lips, throwing back his head slightly as he was reduced into a shuddering mess. God, you were so warm — to think that he was feeling it through layers of clothing was downright maddening. The throbbing ache within his trousers was growing unbearable, and he wanted nothing but to relieve himself from this sinful agony.

He has waited for so long. He has fantasized about you during his lonely nights, spread out and his for the taking — without Sebastian in the equation. He'd love nothing more than for you to strip him bare and do as you please with his body. The mere notion was enough for his stiff erection to twitch within its confines, leaking droplets of liquid desire.

Your lips curled into a gleefully sinister smirk. It was akin to witnessing a valuable gift unwrap itself; a revelation of how atrociously needy Ominis Gaunt gets once the correct buttons were pushed.

“I think it's only fair if I give you a little taste of what you want, no?” you chuckled. A quiver raked through his lithe frame upon feeling the thin skin of your lips tracing itself along his prominent jawline.

“Ah…!” he gasps with unbridled delight at the delicious suction against the delicate skin of his neck. Merlin, he never expected you to be this bold. A giggle erupted from your cherry red lips, drinking in the scrumptious sight of his flustered state.

Oh, you were going to have fun with him for sure.

He felt his legs part as you slid in between them, metal faintly clinking as deft fingers began to unbuckle his belt. His heart pounded against his chest, taking a gulp to soothe his now parched throat. His shaky fingers wandered to his vest, unbuttoning the garment while you palmed his stiff appendage through his underwear, kissing the weeping tip through the cotton thin fabric.

His pleasure-induced whimpers successfully stroked your ego, and you allowed yourself to indulge deeper within this abysmal erotomania. Your hands creeped up along your own legs as you stood up, brunching your skirt all the way up until you reached your own lacy undergarments.

While stripping the flimsy article off your being, you relished in the sight of the opal-eyed male loosening his own necktie and shortly unbuttoning his white shirt. You bit your lip upon witnessing his bareness: his soft, alabaster skin teasingly peeking through the undone clothing.

God, he's beautiful.

"Hmm. Keep those on," you sighed breathily before he could take the articles of clothing off his frame. Ominis smirked lightly at this, putting his hands up as he laid back on the backrest of the chaise lounge. You knelt before him once more, slipping both his trousers and undergarments off him at the same time. He hissed at the sudden cold air nipping against his heated skin while you purred in delight, nuzzling your face filthily against the thick, leaky appendage.

"Please, (Y/N)..." he whimpered as you traced the tip of your tongue lightly against a thick vein at the underside of his shaft, clear globs of precum leaking from the tip at your teasing ministrations. The slick muscle eventually wandered towards his blunt tip, and a hiss of unadulterated pleasure escaped his bitten red lips as his fingers ran through your (H/C) locks; all in hopes of grounding himself from this euphoric high.

"Yes... That's it...! Darling— Oh, fuck...!" he groaned through gritted teeth as his fleshy head was enveloped within the warmth of your mouth. The pleasant vibrations from your moan further stimulates his already sensitive, twitchy organ. The flat of your tongue moved at every suction, resulting in every possible form of salacious sound being torn from his mouth with little to no mercy.

He writhed at all the sensations that engulfed his senses; his pale, veiny fingers intertwined with strands of your (H/C) hair while his other hand gripped the armrest of his seat. Fire scorched him from within his loins while his toes curled, his brain in a state of mush and primal frenzy.

Your own slender fingers wandered towards your own weeping hole, running the pads of your fingertips along your own heated flesh. Your mind was beginning to blank out as you began to take in his increasingly heady scent, audibly gurgling as he pushed your head deeper to accommodate his entire length.

He gasped, heaving a lungful of air as the blunt tip mercilessly hit the back of your throat. All you could do was to acquiesce to his desires as he brutally bobbed your head up and down his stiff erection. Your scalped burned delightfully at his iron grip on your hair, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“I’m close… So fucking close…!” he groaned. His pace quickened, bucking his hips up this time, your throat instinctively tightening up at the repetitive intrusion. The sound of gurgles and squelches turned increasingly audible as he bucked his hips up wildly with his mouth hung slightly ajar.

A salty taste soon engulfed your senses, spurts of his hot seed flooding your abused mouth. He let out a shuddering groan at the suction as he was milked dry by your mouth. You pulled your head away with a pop before swallowing his essence, licking the sides of your lips to clean up any remaining traces.

Before he could even come to his senses, he felt your lips on his once more, instantly snaking your tongue into his hot cavern. He whines, tasting himself whilst running his slick appendage against yours. His head was still spinning from his release, his sightless eyes in a daze as he inhaled through his nose, taking in your addictive scent as much as he could. As soon as your lips unlatched itself from his, he let out a soft, needy whine, to which you responded with a giggle.

“Lay down,” you instructed softly, and he complied, letting you hover over his willing body.

Tracing your fingertips along the center of his frame, you pushed the layers of clothing aside, revealing the expanse of his smooth pale skin — he was truly a work of art, rivaling that of marble statues. He hissed as your leaking hole descended dangerously close to his shaft, which was pulsating with anticipation as it felt the warm droplets of your essence drip upon it.

Without a warning, you pressed your soaked core directly against his member. As soon as you began rocking your hips, Ominis absolutely lost the remaining traces of his sanity, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped before gasping for air. Your warm slick coated his now throbbing member, and the intimately lewd sensation effectively fried the remainder of his rationality. A loud groan rumbled from his chest upon placing your hole against the tip, moving your hips in a circular motion.

Fuck, he was so close to entering you.

He wants to be inside you. No, he needs to be inside you right now.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you teased disapprovingly as Ominis tried to slide his member within your aching core. You pressed down harder against his twitching shaft, earning a pleasured whimper from him in response.

“I didn't say we could go all the way, love,” you grinned, a hint of malicious amusement present within your eyes. “But with how desperately needy you are right now, perhaps you should… Convince me.”

He groaned impatiently, the pads of his fingertips sinking onto your fleshy thighs. He shifted under your weight pathetically, his nether regions craving for the deliciously warm friction against your slicked lower lips — the addictive sensation that you had cruelly deprived him from all of a sudden. You remained still, letting out a mirthless chuckle.

Dainty fingers wrapped around his neck, followed by a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the side of his lips. Shifting yourself slightly, you reached for his stiff erection, guiding the tip to your drenched hole. The fleshy tip merely prodded your entrance, never going past the head, much to Ominis' sheer agony.

“F-fuck… (Y/N), please!”

Oh, you loved the sound of that: the way he begs and grovels like an animal in heat just to engulf himself within your warmth — truly a boost to your already inflated ego.

“Please, what?”

“Please let me have you… Fuck, I need you so badly right now...”

His eyes widened at the painfully slow, inching intrusion; his eyes glassy with wanton tears. There was a raging urge within him to just snap his hips up, but he dared not to cross you — he was taking no risk in ruining everything, not when he's so close to obtaining his filthiest desire of finally becoming one with you. With one hand, you removed your necktie, your eyes never leaving his vulnerable, quivering form.

“How badly do you need it, love?” you asked mockingly while he let out a shuddering gasp; your warm juices slowly trickled down his shaft, pooling at its base.

“So fucking bad… I'll do anything. Please…” he whimpered.

A smug, menacing grin broke out of your lips.

“... Anything?” you repeated.

“Anything. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Good boy.”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs the moment you descended on him, your walls fluttering around his thick, twitchy appendage. You bit your lip as you began unbuttoning your shirt while gyrating your hips, much to his sinful delight. Blood was rushing to your head, trapping you within a dizzying frenzy of lust and desire, only to be fueled further when his hands gripped your bare waist, guiding you along his shaft.

You felt so full, and he was prodding and brushing at all the right places, making your eyes roll back at every slam of your hips upon his. Your juices were dripping everywhere, and the sounds of filthy squelches and wet slaps of skin filled the room along with the shaky, breathless little moans that escaped your sweet lips. Ominis panted, snapping his hips up occasionally in hopes of drawing out a more feral response from you, to which he was successful.

You were a wreck — disheveled, legs quivering, covered in a sheen of sweat, inner thighs drenched solely with your own juices, and a drunken grin on your face while you rubbed your sensitive little pearl.

“Fuck— R-right there!” you cried out as he brushed against a spongy spot that made your thighs shake, your domineering façade slowly disintegrating. Every thrust from him had you choking on air with how rough he slams his hips, reducing you into nothing but a moaning mess.

This was genuinely one of the few instances where Ominis is upset about his lack of sight. All he ever wanted was to see you unravel before him — to look into his eyes pleadingly, writhe in pleasure as he brought waves upon waves of pleasure on your submissively sensitive body, and to present yourself to him in every debauched position possible before he fucks you into oblivion.

Oh, the extent he would go to just to even catch a glimpse of you, especially when you're bare — he'd worship the ground you walked on, and treat you like you were the most prized person within the entire world with no questions asked.

He'd do anything for you. Anything.

“Fuck, I'm close…!” you mewled, feeling your walls slightly spasming around his cock, causing the male to hiss at the velvety grip of your core. Your thighs began to tremble, and you heaved as you began to move faster, chasing your high.

“Cum for me, darling. Oh fuck, you're amazing,” he pants, his mind in a drunken haze.

He pulled you into his arms, thrusting his hips wildly while breathing in your heady scent as if it's the last time he'll ever inhale a lungful of air. An airy, shuddering moan tickled his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Your walls had finally convulsed around him, and you felt spurts of his warm cum flood your long awaiting pussy.

A sharp exhale escaped his dried mouth as you shakily let your worn-out body lay on top of him. He was still inside you, but the growing soreness in your thighs was preventing you from moving. Your heart was still hammering in your chest while your limbs felt like jelly, the exhaustion evident within your body. Ominis hadn't moved a single muscle either, his mind wandering into places, deep in thought.

As soon as you attempted to get off him, however, his arm snaked around your waist, holding you in place. You glanced at him with tired, confused eyes.

“...Stay,” he whispers, his embrace tightening around you as if you'll disappear from his grasp anytime. The underlying neediness within his tone caused you to give into his harmless request, sinking back into the warmth of his embrace.

“...Okay.”

You nuzzled in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat with a sigh of comfort. A serene smile was present on your face as you relaxed, slowly getting lulled into a well-deserved nap in the comfort of his arms.

Willing volunteer? Check.

part 2: all’s fair in love and war >

#ominis gaunt #ominis smut #dark!ominis #sub!ominis #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt x f!mc #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy dark mc

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hippolotamus · 2 months

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Happy (incredibly belated) Birthday to mi amor, @disasterbuckdiaz 💙 thank you for your patience

honey, when you call my name | 12.6k | E (Buddie)

“I was at the bar, Buck.” Eddie’s voice is quieter now, dripping with uncertainty. “I walked in- and I saw the team. Then I saw you. At the pool table. Kissing someone.” Eddie inhales sharply and it feels like the air is being ripped directly from Buck. “And when I saw that I- I had to leave.”

The words play back in Buck’s mind in slow motion as he tries to piece them together. None of it makes any kind of rational sense. Eddie was there? He saw Buck and then had to–

“Did you have sex with her?” Eddie blurts out.

That is not at all what Buck was expecting. Ever since Shannon died there’s been an unspoken rule between them. A silent pact to never inquire about or interfere with the other’s romantic life. And sure, Buck broke that with Ana, but only because Eddie was having panic attacks. What else was he supposed to do? This is completely different in every way. Because his best friend, man he’s hopelessly in love with, and star of every filthy fantasy, wants to know if anything more happened with a stranger at a bar.

The implication clicks, allowing something bright and hopeful to flicker to life in his chest. A wish Buck never dared let himself believe would be fulfilled. “Would it matter if I did?”

Buck doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s nostrils flare slightly before he attempts to cover it with a mask of indifference. How he seems to be struggling not to look away again.

“It’s not like it’s really my business anyway.” Eddie shrugs and begins picking at the label on his drink with his thumbnail.

The flickering ember of hope draws from Eddie’s reaction, daring to glow the tiniest bit brighter. “I didn’t, you know. Do anything with her, I mean.”

Eddie pauses his fidgeting, just long enough for Buck to notice before starting again. The casual silence that had been there before is anything but now. It feels weightier, the ease replaced with tension and doubt, and Buck starts to wonder if he’s completely misinterpreted the situation.

“Did you want to?”

“No!” If this is going where Buck hopes it’s going he wants to be as clear as he can. He quickly adds, “Not with her.”

Eddie jerks his head up, staring at Buck with equal parts curiosity and disbelief. It pins him in place, leaving him helpless to do anything but stare back. He doesn’t risk moving, his breathing rapid and shallow, too afraid of severing this potential new thread weaving its way into their well established connection. Another anchor point in their root system, twining them together.

“And if it had been someone else?” Eddie asks.

Not that Buck is the most effective communicator, but he kinda wishes Eddie would just say what he means already. However, he supposes, two can play at that game. “I guess it would depend on who’s asking.”

Eddie hums, shifting to set his bottle down on the counter. It lands with a semi-hollow clink and a gentle slosh as he maintains his hold, tapping one finger on the neck. As if he’s contemplating, trying to sort out a complicated equation. He briefly squeezes his eyelids shut tight, pinching his lips together, something warring within him. With a loud exhale through his nose, his body finally relaxes again and releases his grip, letting both hands rest at his sides.

There’s something else, too, when Eddie faces forward again. A new aura of confidence rolling off of him in waves. It’s vaguely reminiscent of a different night in this kitchen when their roles were reversed and Eddie stood down, unyielding to whatever the fuck Buck thought he was doing.

Not now though.

Now he looks intently at Buck. He sees him. He sees him in a way that makes Buck feel stripped down and exposed. A raw vulnerability that intensifies as Eddie steps towards him, his boots echoing with each heel strike. Another and another until he’s standing in Buck’s space, effectively caging him in.

Eddie takes the beer from his hand, placing it off to the side. It seems like a hallucination, some sort of wild fever dream. But then Eddie’s fingers are tucked under Buck’s chin, his thumb sweeping across Buck’s bottom lip and making him shiver. Christ it feels so fucking real. Please let it be.

This close, Buck can make out flecks of green interspersed with warm golden browns. He can smell the oud and lavender cologne Sophia gave him two Christmases ago. Eddie swears up and down it’s not really his style, but Buck knows better. He only had to be tortured by it every time Eddie came home from a date. Maybe it can be his now. A scent from his person. A type of claim letting everyone know he belongs to Eddie. Even if it’s just this one time.

“And what if I’m asking?” Eddie inquires, low and husky in a way Buck’s never heard from his best friend before.

“Are you?” Buck responds, barely above a whisper.

read the whole thing here

#hippo writes #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #fic: honey when you call my name #well look what finally arrived #it's only almost a year later...

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thelastwalkingsoul · 2 months

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Me? Posting? What a miracle! Enjoy my little Stobin Month contribution :) Stobin Month Day 1: Summer

Steve shifts in the grass, basking in the warmth against his face. Summer is in full swing, and he and Robin are fully enjoying the heat.

These warm months are their time. Hours upon hours just for them. It’s an unspoken rule, written in the margins of their friendship in invisible ink.

Ever since those days. Those godawful few days.

Two teenagers drowning in terror and left alone with nothing but each other and the sharp undeniable truth that neither of them were making it out alive.

Something happened that night between them, cold and hurt in an underground bunker. Something warm and powerful. An unbreakable bond formed its roots in fear and grew. Fed by love and trauma and laughter and pain.

That summer changed them both. For good and for worse.

So summer is theirs. It’s Steve’s, it’s Robins. It’s SteveandRobin's. They refuse to let it change them any further.

A warm palm finds his and squeezes. Steve smiles as he squeezes back. They joke that Robin is more in tune with his emotions than he is, but Steve sometimes thinks it’s true. She understands Steve’s every quirk, every tiny little habit.

She means the world to Steve. He can’t even describe his love for her. Though he's sure she could ramble out enough words for both of them.

“Whatcha thinking about, Dingus?”

Robin’s watching him, her smile brighter than the sun above. The fierce rays have darkened the freckles that dot her face and shoulders. She looks so at home, spread out and lounging in the grass. Like a summer angel, he thinks.

“You,” he answers honestly.

“Oh yay,” she says, deadpan. “How lucky am I?”

“So lucky. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position right now?”

“Ugh, Steve!”

He laughs. Warm with the sun and her unconditional love, Steve’s more relaxed than he’s been in a long while.

Summer is theirs.

And nothing can take that away from them.

#stobinmonth #stobin month 2024 #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckely #souls writing

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manicpixiefelix · 2 months

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*crashes my imaginary car into your inbox*

OLLIE WHO WAS ADOPTED BY READER'S FAMILY!!!!!

I know this is a major shift in established dynamics but hear me out!!!

What if Oliver's tales about his home life were actually true, worse even so he ended up an orphan? He gets adopted by Reader's parents for the optics mainly because it makes them look good and they figure it'll provide their heir with a companion.

So they become this peculiar little duo, both very observant of the world and people around them. Ollie is a stranger to this world of the ultra rich and endures etiquette classes.

Oliver Quick becomes Oliver L/N, the boy uplifted from squalor by the heroic family *eye roll*

Reader is fiercely protective of their brother and will ruin anyone that insinuates he's not ~really~ family

I know we've never really discussed the ancestral home of Reader but I imagine it is every bit as grand and impressive as Saltburn. Ollie's favorite room is definitely the massive library.

BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS A LOT OF COURSE I LOVE HOW YOUR MIND WORKS!!!!

Of course your parents love the optics of it all.

You're six when they adopt Oliver, and he's five; this mousy little thing who doesn't smile often and barely speaks and can't look you in the eyes. He shys away from your overbearing, performative parents, but you seem to be able to see how overwhelmed he's getting. There's no words in your first interaction, only gestures, taking and keeping Oliver's focus as best you can to ground him in the moment; you teach him a simple game, and he returns the favour. Not a word between you two. By the end of the visit, you realise the adults have gone quiet; your parents and Oliver's case worker are just watching you both, marvelling. As you're looking away, Oliver himself finally steps towards you, taking your hand carefully and half hiding himself from them behind you, as if already deciding to trust you. You and Oliver had begun the day as strangers, and ended as siblings.

Your parents love to tell anyone who will listen about how when you first met Oliver you 'practically fixed yourself to his side and haven't moved since'. You look like the perfect family in photos, and the press is quick to forget how little research your parents did on the last charity they very publicly supported, and it's less than ideal history. Oliver learns to smile on command the way you feel like you've always known, but at least they don't make the two of you seperate in these moments.

Oliver says your house is like a fairy tale. At first he sticks close by you, overwhelmed by it all, but as the days turn to weeks and then months, you start to lose him as he goes exploring amongst the estate's many rooms and corridors. No-one knows the old house better then you, but Oliver is a close second; Nan says Mother used to scurry around just like you did, used to know every trick the old house had, but that was a lifetime ago.

Mother's study locks from the inside and Father works long hours in the city, so it's up to you to help Oliver settle in with the nannys and the tutors and the rest of the staff. Your parents like to buck tradition, so they're not precious enough to hire anyone to teach Oliver the etiquette that usually comes with wealth and a house like this, so long as he was polite and respectful and sweet faced in public, they couldn't care less which fork he used for salad. Honestly adults at events found his lack of grace and understanding of their unspoken rules charming in its sincerity. You, however, know that their condescending adoration grates on your brother's nerves as they talk to him like he was some kind of pet.

On the weekends Nan comes over, and it's clear that Oliver likes her the best of all the adults in your lives. Like you she doesn't pressure him to talk, always taking his silence in stride, but also taking the time and putting in the effort to understand him when he does try and communicate, however that may be.

In public - not that you're in public a lot - you and Oliver tend to cling to each other. As you grow older, even as you stop physically holding on to each other, you barely seem to stray from each other's shadow. Of the two of you, Oliver still is the far more reserved one, happy to let you do the talking most of the time, often only sharing his thoughts as quiet asides to you alone.

Considering your parents had no choice but to publicly acknowledge you in this universe, you and Oliver very much grow up in the public eye. The strange, observant duo who seemed to have the uncanny ability to wrap rooms full of adults, the upper echelons of society, around their little fingers, grow into beautiful and bitchy socialites.

Considering you're both getting privately tutored instead of going to a proper school, most of your time is spent travelling and attending events. Following the various Fashion Weeks around the world is a yearly tradition since you were teens, you go to concerts and film festivals and galas, always together, always inseperable. Or at least, inseperable when being seen by people who might matter. Oliver's confidence grows, he's far more open and even talkative in public than when he was a kid, but there's comfort in your established dynamic too. It returns most often at formal events, with Oliver half a step behind you, murmuring his commentary and amusing aside to you throughout the night.

A few of the independent tabloids your family didn't own print unsavoury rumours about your closeness, but those get pulled from news stands within the day, and a few threats of defamation lawsuits make them think twice before printing those kinds of articles again.

Everyone in the Western world knows who you both are, or has at least heard of you. But thankfully it's been years since anyone had tried to tie Oliver back to the Poor Orphan Boy he was when he'd first been adopted. By the time you both get to Oxford, he's been your brother for so long that it's like the world has thankfully forgotten that it's not by blood.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver ln au #head heart hand fic #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #it shouts back

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kendrene · 1 year

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"Can you ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?"

When Ava says it, half-leant out of her seat and tilted toward Beatrice, what she’s aiming for is smooth. What actually happens is that her elbow, precariously planted on the table in front of them, skids across a patch of unidentifiable liquid (it’s probably beer) and she tumbles straight out of the chair. Right at Beatrice’s feet.

“Uhm.” How is it possible for Beatrice to be this pretty from any and all angles? Is it a skill? Does it come naturally? Ava doesn’t know, but it shouldn’t be allowed. It shouldn’t even be legal. “Did it hurt now?”

“Oh my fucking God, do not encourage her.” A strong set of hands slides under her armpits and Ava is hoisted back onto her seat. “Worst. Pick. Up. Line. Ever.” Mary jabs a finger into her sternum as punctuation for each word. “Like, seriously. Do better.”

“Excuse me, that was a very good pick up line. The best pick up line that ever was.”

“Only if you want your audience’s ears to bleed.”

“Well, clearly, you’re not the target audience, are you?” Ava reaches for the bottle she’d been drinking from, but it’s already empty. She could up her game if Mary gave her pointers. She’s seen old videos of her with Shannon — how easily Mary could make her laugh. Their chemistry was off the fucking charts.

As for her and Beatrice — Ava has no clue where they stand. Sometimes it feels that they’re a spark away from deflagration in the best possible way, but then she’ll say or do something stupid and end up like a character in one of those old cartoons she and Diego were sometimes allowed to watch on VHS on Sunday mornings; lab coat burned to kingdom come and eyebrows singed right off.

“Did you say pick up line?” Beatrice interjects, and there’s an odd lilt to the words, as if something far too big to be contained got stuck inside her throat.

“Christ.” Mary rolls her eyes. “I can’t do this sober.”

“Do? Do what?”

“This— whatever you two have going on, that you’ve not been talking about.” Mary waves a hand in the empty space between them, but her eyes are scanning the bottles strewn all over the table for more booze. There’s probably some rule against drinking in a convent, and Ava is pretty certain Mother Superion would enforce it if she knew how the six of them have been spending their evening, but Mother Superion has been called away to help elect another Pope (do they ever run out of those?), and Camila — the only person with a lick of sense left in the group — forgot to bring any.

“What—” No mistake, this time. Beatrice is trying and failing to swallow. “What do you think we have going on?”

“Don’t ask me — ah!” Mary holds up an unopened bottle of vodka, triumphant. “Ask her.”

“Oh.” Lilith crows from the shadows. “This is going to be good.”

“This is going to be private.” A small riot breaks out at the announcement, but Mary rounds the others up with quick efficiency and herds them for the door. “Come on all of you. No, Camila, you can’t stay and watch. I don’t care about posterity.” Camila argues back something. “Ava can write her own damn warrior nun journal. Yasmine, quit staring or I’ll—”

The rest of the threat is lost down the hallway and it doesn’t take long for their steps to recede.

Everything is quiet. The late evening fills with unspoken undercurrents. There’s a thickness to the air that is not due to the lingering heat of summer. It presses down on them with the beloved weight of a favorite blanket wrapped around the body a bit too tight.

All of a sudden, Ava is stone cold sober. She really really really wishes Mary had left the bottle behind.

“Ava?”

Sounds are supposed to break a prolonged silence, but Bea’s voice, small against the vastness of the night, only enhances it. When Ava dares look, Bea is leaning forward, her cheeks suffused a lovely red as though she’s just sat down after a run. Only one of the overhead lights is still on, and they exist in its tight circle, the darkness beyond alive with the things Ava knows that she already should have said. “Ava, what did Mary mean? What — what does she think is between us?”

Bea wets her lips, and Ava’s gaze is instantly drawn to the motion. Something molten pulses outward from the halo, pooling in her gut. Lower, like the glimpse she inadvertently got of Bea’s tongue somehow directly interlaced with her nerve endings — open flame to tinder — and set everything alight.

She’s faced dozens of demons, held her own against a fallen angel hell bent on world dominion — she’s been to a whole different realm, goddammit — but she doesn’t have the guts to simply bridge the gap and kiss Beatrice again.

With difficulty, Ava drops her eyes to where Bea’s hands are resting. They’re so familiar now. The callouses from training. The array of small scars across the knuckles where flesh has been torn and healed so many times it is pale, almost translucent, against the darker canvas of Beatrice’s sun-kissed skin. Reaching out, Ava takes Bea’s right hand in both of her own, traces from scar to scar with the tip of a finger as if drawing constellations. Under her touch, Beatrice is shaking badly, or maybe it is her.

She doesn’t think it matters.

“Ava?” Beatrice says her name the way she’s said it hundreds of other times. Sweetly, a bit uncertain. More than a little scared. Expectant.

Ava takes one big breath and —

“Iminlovewithyou.”

— she wants to kick herself.

First because she’s never meant to say it now. Second because she’s never meant to rush it out in such a way. Barebones. No preamble. She had given a much better speech when she’d said what she’d supposed where her goodbyes inside of Adriel’s inverted church. That moving line about the warrior nun duty, and Beatrice living her life, all tied neatly together with that final in the next that Ava had managed to force out despite the well of tears inside her. It was all very romantic in a tragic sort of way.

Shit. What if she can be romantic only when she’s dying? That would fucking suck.

But she can’t take it back now. The sentence just burst out of her in a single breath, the same way power blasts from her when she overexerts the halo. And Ava may have made a grab for Beatrice’s hand to have something to hold on to, but now Bea, too, is gripping her fingers tight, and they’re two ships caught in the same storm, fighting not to let the other slip away from sight.

“I love you.” Ava repeats, slower this time. “And I’ve loved you since the Vatican. I’ve loved you since before that, actually. Since I got my stupid foot stuck inside the stupid wall in Mother Superion’s stupid office and you talked me out of it.”

“Ava…”

“And that’s why I’m always acting like a fool. Otherwise I’d have to stop and self-analyze, you know? And then, I’d have to talk to you about it, and what if you don’t love me back? I mean, I know you do, friend-like, but if you didn’t love me love me I think I would be really sad and—” Her shoulders sag. “But I guess the cat is on the table now, uh? It’s okay if you don’t love me, by the way. Like I said, I’m just going to mope for a while but I’ll--”

“Ava, stop.”

“— be okay, you don’t have to worry — oh.” Did Beatrice say stop? “Did you say, stop?”

Crap. Beatrice doesn’t want to hear more of her hastily crafted (held together by a hail mary, a safety pin and hope) love confession. Double crap. Beatrice is smiling, so bright and wide that it reaches all the way to her eyes, crinkling them at the edges.

“You’re smiling.” Ava points out, utterly invested in her role as captain obvious.

“Yes.”

“Is it a good thing?”

“I’d say.”

“Oh.” Beatrice gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “So this means—”

“That I feel the way you feel. And I guess I didn’t say where you could hear for pretty much the same reasons.”

“But you said it? Before, I mean?”

“Yes.” A cloud settles over Beatrice’s face, and Ava regrets asking. “After you went through the portal. It took a while for the others to get to me so I sat there and I said it, over and over.” Beatrice draws in a steadying breath that seems to go on forever. “I was hoping you could hear me.” Her smile returns, but tempered. “So, you see, you’re not the only fool around here.”

“I can hear it now.” Ava’s heart is thumping so hard and fast against her ribcage she wonders whether the halo will have to heal a bruise. “You know, if you wanted to say it.”

Beatrice closes her eyes. Opens them, and an army of Tarasks could march through the refectory this second, Ava would not give them the time of day.

“Ava Silva,” Beatrice begins, incredibly steady. “I’m in love with you, too.”

***

“So,” Beatrice asks her later, in what Ava is sure is the best interest of open and healthy communication. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“No.” Ava nuzzles into Bea’s naked shoulder, arm draped loosely around her waist. “Because you were already there to catch me.”

#in liquor veritas #dren writes #avatrice #warrior nun

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little-diable · 10 months

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Love's twisted embrace - Tommy Shelby

Y'all voted on this pairing, so I hope y'all like this! I adore writing historic fics (says the historian), I think it worked quite well with Tommy. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's family is at war, fighting against Tommy's father. But while both are expected to hate one another, to strengthen their families, the two cherish their forbidden love.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions war (nothing explicit), angsty because of the surrounding topics, set in the middle ages

Pairing: Historic!Tommy Shelby x historic!fem!reader (2.7k words)

Dearest Tommy,

Forgive me for the audacity of my quill as it dares to convey the tumultuous emotions that have become the very essence of my existence. In the darkest recesses of my heart, where secrets and desires intertwine, I find myself entangled in a web of affection, with tendrils as delicate as moonlight, yet as binding as a fateful spell. It is with the utmost trepidation that I dare to commit these thoughts to vellum, knowing full well the consequences that may befall our forbidden love.

As the ink bleeds onto this pristine canvas, I confess, my heart weeps with a sorrow so profound that it resembles the dirge of a soul trapped in purgatory. For you, my dear, have become the cursed temptation that consumes my every waking moment, as I tread the thin line between virtue and forbidden excitement. The mere thought of your visage, graced by the soft glow of candlelight, beckons my spirit towards a realm where darkness and desire entwine.

(Y/n)’s hands were trembling, rushing the words she wanted to perpetuate on the vellum. Her heart was pounding, ears focusing on the noises she could pick up on, the voices echoing through her parent’s home. She was filled with fear, scared that somebody would find her like this, writing a love letter to the man she had been in love with for months, years even.

Their love was anything but enviable, a secret love, a love they couldn’t tell a living soul about. With their families at war, fighting against one another, (y/n) and Tommy were expected to strengthen their families, not to go behind their backs, to betray them. A foolish act of love Tommy and (y/n) could be killed for.

Tears welled up in her eyes whenever she thought of Tommy, knowing that she’d leave her home this very evening, riding with her sisters and maids towards her father’s camp, the ruling lord that wanted to get rid of Tommy’s family, wanted to get his hands on their wealth, on their land, on their servants. A greedy man that only cared about himself, about all the riches this very life could offer him.

In the hallowed halls of my mind, I find solace in the stolen glances and clandestine whispers we exchange, like a nocturnal symphony that resounds in the depths of my very being. Yet, beneath this enchanting facade, there lies a tempest of uncertainty, raging like a stormy sea that threatens to engulf my fragile heart. Does the echo of my affections find its way to your soul, or am I but a specter of fleeting infatuation, doomed to haunt the corridors of your thoughts?

It is the burden of these unspoken desires that weighs heavily upon my conscience, like the damning weight of secrets buried beneath a withering rose garden. In the grand tapestry of society, our love is a blemish, an aberration to be shunned and suppressed. But can the heart truly be tamed by the laws of decorum and propriety? Can it be so easily silenced, like a siren's song, when its melody resonates with the very essence of our souls?

The memory of the day where she had crossed paths with Tommy for the first time was still fresh in her mind, a day as clear as the night sky in winter nights. He had sparked a fire within her burning soul, had forced her to surrender, without having to speak one single word. It had been pathetic, a foolish woman offering her everything to the man she was supposed to hate. A man she had only felt love towards, not daring to move away from him.

He had robbed her of her honour within the first few days of knowing one another, she had begged him to touch her, to leave his marks on her trembling body. Sins the good Lord would make them pay for, souls burning in the fires of purgatory, of the eternal realm they wouldn’t be able to escape from. But she’d rather endure the pain of her sins than having to let go of the man she loved.

“(Y/n)? We leave soon, you need to come out of your chambers.” Her sister’s voice echoed through the hallway, forcing (y/n) to tense, eyes rereading the last sentence she had scribbled down. She felt her heart in her throat, choking on the words she still needed to write, finding solace in the thought of trusting one of her maids with the letter, knowing that she’d be the one to give it to Tommy.

Alas, my dearest, the love that burns within me, with its ethereal flames and forbidden allure, knows no bounds. It devours my every thought, ravaging my spirit with a relentless hunger. Like a fading star, I find myself yearning for your presence, your touch, your whispered words of passion that echo within my fevered dreams. But I fear that these desires shall remain naught but echoes, mere phantoms of longing that torment my sleepless nights.

I beseech you, dear recipient of my heart's deepest affections, to consider the weight of my words, and to heed the echoes of a love forbidden yet irrepressible. In this world of shadows and secrets, where the flickering candlelight casts eerie silhouettes upon our shared desires, I dare to hope that you too harbour a flame that burns as brightly as mine.

Forever yours, in love's twisted embrace,

(Y/n)

……

Exhaustion clung to her body as (y/n) arrived at her father’s camp. The smell of mud, blood, and ale hung in the air, crawling up her nostrils without a warning, making the young woman choke on every breath she inhaled into her aching lungs. They had been on the road for hours, riding through the pain begging them for a break, needing to feel the ground beneath their feet. A silent plea they hadn’t been able to give into, knowing that it was too dangerous for so many women and only a few guards around to travel through this part of the country.

“Come, I’m sure father wants to see us.” (Y/n) was dragged through the camp by her sister, clumsily following her with quivering limbs. She struggled to keep up, feet about to sink into the muddy ground, wondering how these warriors managed to survive in these conditions. Her eyes found her father’s from afar, taking in his dark eyes, the towering frame she had always feared, very well aware of the anger thumping through his veins.

“There you are, just in time! Tomorrow we will win, we will kill Arthur and his foolish sons.” (Y/n)’s breath hitched in her chest, tears threatening to well up in her eyes at the mere thought of losing Tommy. No longer could she concentrate on her father’s taunting words, on the promises he spoke to them and to the Lord listening in on their every conversation. (Y/n) wouldn’t be able to survive without Tommy close, without the body she found in moments of weakness, the fingers stroking up her limbs, the lips speaking wordless promises she clung to.

“Tonight we will pray. Tonight we will feast. And tomorrow we will kill. Kill in the name of our benevolent God, in the name of our honour, in the name of our family. We will own riches our eyes haven’t yet been able to admire. We will own lands far away from home, protecting our family from those that dare to move closer. And we will find suitable husbands for you to strengthen the name of our family.” Her father’s booming words cut through her skin like blades set to kill her, leaving marks on the body only Tommy was allowed to touch. Her throat tightened up, unable to reply, unable to mimic the joy filling her sister’s features, the excitement the young woman felt.

“Excuse me, I am in need of some rest.” She spoke the words with a trembling voice, not waiting for her father’s reply, pushing past her sister. The cold air nibbled on her skin, embracing the woman that had to hold back her tears. She’d rather die than lay with a man who wasn’t Tommy, would rather disappear from earth’s ground than give into a loveless marriage. (Y/n) found no excitement in the future laying ahead of her, found no excitement in the thought of entering the bond of matrimony, at least not with a man who wasn’t Tommy.

(Y/n) found her way to her tent, guided by one of the maids following her. The two women didn’t dare share any words, allowing (y/n) to sort through her racing thoughts. Should she run? Disappear with the night's shadow guiding her, allowing her to blend in with the darkness? Would she make it across the field, finding Tommy before the rising sun could drench the horizon in a colour as bright as the blood pouring out of wounds of fallen knights?

“My lady,” her maid’s voice ripped (y/n) out of her trance. Her eyes flickered up to take in the features of her most trustworthy friend, the one that had been trusted to find Tommy, to give her letter to him. A small “Leave us” was whispered to the other maids, watching them hurry out of the tent, allowing the two women to exchange their secrets. “I gave him your letter, he misses you dearly. He promised that he’d fight for you, that he’d stay alive for you.”

Tears rolled down (y/n)’s cold cheeks, hand darting out to grasp her maid’s hand. She wept in silence, clinging to every heavy breath leaving her, speaking silent promises only the howling wind could pick up on.

One prayer after another rolled off her tongue, he couldn’t die, he couldn’t.

……

“(Y/n)?” She woke from her sleep with a gasp, eyes finding a pair of icy blue ones. A gasp left her, arms finding their way around his neck, pulling Tommy closer. His raspy chuckles echoed in her ears, hands finding her lower back, pulling her even closer.

“What are you doing here? Did anybody see you?” Her whispers were swallowed by the kiss he pressed against her lips, successfully shutting her up. (Y/n) felt her heart picking up its beat, roaring in her chest, hoping that he’d pick up on its call.

“I had to see you, I won’t be able to fight for my life without knowing you still want me, without touching you one last time.” (Y/n) could only shake her head, murmuring a soft “It won’t be the last time” against his lips. She kissed him again, slowly laying back down on the fur covering the cold ground, pulling Tommy with her. He parted from her to unsheathe his sword, placing the weapon down on the ground.

Her thin nightgown was pulled from her frame, naked body exposed to his darkening eyes, allowing Tommy to study the forbidden fruit, the body he shouldn’t touch and yet couldn’t stop dreaming of. It was a dangerous game they were playing, and yet neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to stop. His cold lips kissed their way down her throat, leaving marks on her naked chest, on the breasts he kneaded with skilled fingers.

“Oh please, promise that you’ll never stop touching me.” Her words were laced with desperation, forcing a few chuckles out of Tommy. It took him a few moments to reply, not daring to let go of her just yet, trying to prolong their hours together.

“I promise that I’ll fight for you till God calls me from this life. I promise to defend your honour if I have to.” She couldn’t reply, weighed down by the severity of his words, of the promises he spoke before he undressed, showing his naked body to her eyes. (Y/n) had traced his scars numerous times before, listening to the stories they told, the stories filled with pain, anger, and confusion. A deadly mixture that left her heart clenching in her chest. But today her eyes couldn’t help but focus on the new scars gracing his body, the dark purple bruises covering his ribs, and the wounds that were tightly wrapped up.

An unfamiliar kind of anger flushed through (y/n), anger directed at her father, at her brother, and the men fighting for the two. Tommy’s fingers found her chin, redirecting her gaze to stare into his eyes, getting lost in the bright blue that reminded her of places the bards sang about, places that knew no anger, no pain, no war.

“I promise to love you till you no longer want me to. I promise to wed you, shall I survive the upcoming battle.” A sob wrecked through (y/n), lips finding his to silently communicate the gratefulness she felt. His skilled fingers disappeared between her thighs, finding her aching cunt, the arousal dripping from her.

(Y/n) had to bite down on her lower lip, keeping herself from giving into the pleasure driven sounds wanting to escape from her flesh cage. He didn’t give her much time to adjust to his touches, the fingers she hadn’t felt pressed against her skin in weeks, needing to feel her wrapped around his cock. One of his hands found hers, fingers interlaced as he pushed into her, groaning into the crook of her neck.

His thrusts were driven by their need for one another, by the pleasure filling their every vein, bodies trembling whenever they met. No words left the two, not daring to part their lips in fear they’d be too loud, catching the attention of those sleeping in tents close by. Their eyes spoke to one another, of the fear to part ways, not knowing what was laying ahead of them, of the fear to let go, not knowing if they’d ever be fortunate enough to share their bed again.

Sweat was pearling on their foreheads, forming beads reminiscent of rosaries, praying to the God that listened to their every thought, to their every demand. Both wouldn’t last long, needing to give into the heat filling them, letting go with pleasure drunken features and trembling bodies.

(Y/n)’s teary eyes didn’t dare flutter close, not wanting to miss the moments rushing by, the adoration swimming in Tommy’s pupils. A smile tugged on his lips as he met her gaze, staring down on (y/n) as he felt her walls flutter around his cock. He let go of her fingers to sneak his hand between their bodies, circling her clit, pushing her closer and closer to her high.

“Let go for me, love.” His whispers gave her the final push, letting go with her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth drawing blood from her lower lip. His hips kept snapping against hers, driving his cock deeper into her tightness, set on chasing his own release. Tommy pulled out of her before he could let go, painting her thighs white with his cum, marking her in the most sinful way.

The two were heavily breathing, eyes searching one another, slowly but surely realising that their time together was now coming to an end. No words were spoken as he cleaned her, no words were spoken as he redressed, tightly clinging to his sword.

“I will see you again, either tomorrow when we’ve won the battle, or when your time on this earth comes to an end, we will be heaven bound.” One last kiss was shared between the lovers before (y/n) watched Tommy disappear, making her wonder if he had truly had just visited her or if it had been a dream, and nothing more.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader

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russolover · 1 year

Text

Sweater Weather

74. “Do you want me to stay?” 120. “Take my jacket, it’s cold” 34. why are you so cold? 42. "how have you survived this long by yourself"

Nights out with your mates was always something you were looking forward to, but not when it involved a certain 5'9 ft blonde Italian. Tonight you, Mary and her friend. Ella, Joe and Alessia decided to go to a new sushi place and mini golfing afterwards. You only agreed to come because Ella begged you to be there, she knew about the „situation“ you had going on with Alessia.

It all started during the UNC days when you had to play against the tar heels. The rivalry between your and Alessia's University was also reflected on your personal relationship. In the beginning it wasn't that bad, she was the only one with Lotte you've already known because of the U16 England camps. But a bad tackle and a lost championship only fuelled the dislike you've had towards the blonde. To top it all of you caught her kissing your teammate on your farewell party which made you go overboard. Out of everyone, she choose your captain.

You didn't know why the Italian aggravated you so much, but you didn't like it.

This went on as soon as you both went back to England. the hatred only grew from there on, which many fans realised.

The dirty tackles during the games, the shoving for no reason. It was an unspoken rule to keep you two away from each other. But this was hard when Tooney was your and Alessia's best friend.

So, here you are on your way to the sushi restaurant to see your friends. And Alessia.

As you parked your car and went down to the front door of the restaurant a familiar blonde appeared, but she didn't see you. You watched as she pulled her phone out to probably call tooney and ask her where she is. As she looked around talking on her phone her eyes landed on you.

To your dismay she already caught you staring at her and shifted uncomfortably. You tried to be the bigger person today, for Ella.

You walked up to her right as she hung up and forced a smile.

"Russo"

You nodded at her and held out your hand and watched as she returned the gesture.

"Y/l/n"

She smiled, as she squeezed your hand. Her smile was not as forced as yours. She still has those dimples, you thought.

"Why are you so cold?"

You asked as the coldness of her hands took over the warmth in yours.

"I forgot my jacket at home"

She replied, as she fiddled with her rings.

"Lets go inside then, they won't be on time anyways."

You said as you held the door open for her. She thanked you as she stepped inside and asked for the table reserved on tooneys name.

As time went on the others appeared and the evening was not as bas you thought it would be. You and Alessia were civil, which Mary and tooney were very surprised by.

"Is that your favourite roll?"

You asked the Italian munching on her California roll. She looked up at you nodding.

"Yeah its so simply but so good. It has been my favourite since UNC times, what about yours?"

She replied calmly, the uncomfort from earlier clearly gone by now.

"Big fan of anything fried"

You told her simply, shoving another piece of sushi into your mouth.

As you and your friends finished eating you soon headed to the mini golfing course.

"Okay so the teams are as followed, me and Joe, Mary and Alex, Y/n and Less. Whoever has the most points at the end of the Game has won."

You and Alessia necks almost snapped looking back at tooney.

"Ella c'mon-

"Sorry can't change them now I already put it on the sheets"

"Jesus Ella"

Alessia grumbled as Mary looked at her sympathetically.

Ella ginned as she gave you the golf clubs and a ball.

"Look I know we're used to playing against each other but right now all I want is to beat tooney"

You sighed annoyed at the blonde.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I agree with you"

She mumbled, talking one of the clubs from you.

"Well, there's a first time for everything"

The Italian only rolled her eyes at you making her way to the first course. As she tried to step on the course she almost tripped, giving you a freaking heart attack. This wasn't the first time this has happened tonight.

You quickly grabbed onto her waist keeping her from falling and steadying her.

"Jesus Russo stop that"

You spoke annoyed still holding onto her waist. Completely missing the crimson shade her face has turned,

""how have you survived this long by yourself"

"Sorry, I tend to be a bit clumsy"

She responded quietly, making you immediately regret the annoyed tone you used on her .

"A bit is an understatement, are you okay though?"

You chuckled and made sure to ask her if she hurt herself. Hoping this would ease the situation.

"I am, thanks to you"

She smiled softly at you before putting her attention back on the course. The tone she used stuck with you, It was the one she used during the U16 camps. You tried to ignore the way your heart rate was picking up but the way she looked at you while smiling didn't help.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a celebrating Russo.

"HOLE IN ONE"

She shouted while smiling brightly at you and pointing at the ball which was indeed inside hole. Giving you flashbacks from when she scored her first goal during the Camp.

"Nice one Russo"

You matched her energy and gave her a high five before continuing the course. After 5 courses you could see the blonde starting to shiver slightly. Of course she forgot her jacket and she was to stubborn to ask you herself. You didn't like her but at the same time you didn't want her to freeze to death.

"Take my jacket, it’s cold"

You said handing her your oversized leather jacket without looking at her, hoping it would keep her warm.

The Italian only looked at you gratefully as she put the jacket on. The floral fragrant of your perfume invading her senses straight away.

"Thank you Y/n"

She smiled sweetly at you which you returned.

"Don't get used to it, I just don't want you to freeze to death"

She laughed scrunching her nose which made your insides turn into pudding.

NO. FUCK NO.

The feeling of getting hit by a bus would probably match this situation the most. Not Alessia. Out of everyone, why did your heart start beating faster for the Italian?

"You know, you're actually tolerable off the pitch"

She started talking again as you made your way back to the meeting point you agreed with your friends to see which team has won.

"Likewise Russo"

You smiled at her before being greeted by an overconfident tooney.

"You didn't kill each other yet, I'm impressed"

Ella laughed as Mary joined in marking you roll your eyes.

"Calm down bighead, lets see who's won"

As you compared the scores you and Alessia were over the moon with the first place. But even more with tooneys annoyed face.

The evening went only upwards from there on. Some carpool karaoke was the perfect end of a surprisingly good night. Little did you know it wasn't over yet.

You agreed on taking Alessia home, since you were the one who lived closest to her. The drive to her flat wasn't awkward. It was somehow peaceful, with drake playing in the background and the blonde quietly mumbling the words.

"Y/n?"

You turned your head to look at the Italian who was watching you intently, signalling her to keep talking.

"Why do you hate me?"

Your mouth went dry as she spoke those words. I mean, it was clear you weren't friends but hating her?

No.

You weren't even sure if you still disliked her. Something about this evening made you see her different. Or it made you realise that disliking her was easier than telling her how you really felt.

"I don't hate you Alessia"

"But why do you act like it"

She asked confused, starting to fiddle with her rings again. You realised how much it would've taken the blonde to ask you that question since she seemed pretty nervous again.

"I just- Its a long story"

You sighed as you parked in front of her flat. The blonde didn't seem satisfied with that answer as she scrunched her brows looking back down at her rings.

"Do you want to come inside for some tea? The rain is only getting worse, might as well warm yourself up"

She spoke almost inaudibly.

"Depends.. do you want me to stay?"

You turned your head only to be met with Crystal blue eyes already looking at you.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to"

She spoke sincerely making your heart rate pick up again.

This was going to be a long night.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso masterlist #fanfic #lionesses #engwnt #woso community #lgbtq #alessia russo imagine

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