#and then years of hating your body and your gender and wanting to return to that.... god it’s grim

[five-and-dimes]

As You Always Were

A very silly fic based on a convo I had with @gabessquishytum about Dream being an idiot but in a gender affirming way lol

Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~

Hob felt like a teenager in a lifetime movie, but he was choosing to lean into it.

Gripping the bathroom sink with both hands, he stared himself down in the mirror. “You can do this,” he said to his reflection, “You deserve to live your truth. You love yourself. Even if things don’t go the way you want, you’ll survive it. You’re sexy and you know it.”

Nodding to himself, he turned away from the mirror and began pacing his flat, looking for anything left to clean or organize.

He was going to come out to his boyfriend today.

It had been two months since he and Dream became official. They had known each other in some capacity for much longer. They shared a lot of mutual friends, but for a long time Dream didn’t tend to join large group get-togethers, so Hob only saw him occasionally. Then this past semester they had both ended up in a class together for the first time. Despite studying vastly different subjects, this particular course was required and both had managed to miss it when they were underclassmen. And now, as they entered their final year of university, they both needed to complete it in order to graduate. Drawn to any remotely familiar face, they had sat together, and then started talking more, and then slowly fallen for each other.

The past months had been amazing, full of sweet dates and kisses and hand holding and Dream being nothing but understanding when Hob hesitated to go any farther. But Hob wanted to go farther, had been burning out of his skin with the need to touch every part of Dream and be touched in return.

He just… needed to let Dream know what to expect when he took his clothes off.

Stalking through the living room, he moved the books on his coffee table this way and that, as if it would make any sort of difference. It’s not like it was the first time Hob had let someone know he was a trans man. He’s had plenty of experience sharing that part of his life, with family, and friends, and hookups. It’s gone good, and bad, and all the levels in between.

So why was he so nervous about telling Dream?

He was being ridiculous. It’s not like he was worried about Dream hurting him or anything…

Groaning, he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to turn and flop face-down onto the couch. What a world he lived in, where he consciously felt grateful to not worry about being murdered. Sometimes he hated everything. 

With a sigh, he pushed himself up, shaking his head and aggressively re-fluffing the pillows he had flattened with his brief pessimism. He wasn’t going to think about the world right now. This was just about him and Dream and their relationship. And, optimism aside- even just being logical and realistic in a way he so rarely was- he didn’t think things would go badly, per say. Dream was gay, and had always been an open supporter and ally for the trans community. Worst case scenario, even if Dream decided he didn’t want to date someone with Hob’s body, he was certain they could remain friends.

Turning on his heel, Hob speed walked to the kitchen and began wiping down the counters for the third time.

Could they stay friends? He wanted to say yes, to say they could move on from this little bump in the road, but the truth was, even after such a short amount of time, if they broke up Hob would be heartbroken. He had fallen hard for Dream… could he really go back to being friends with him after knowing what it was like to kiss him and hold him? What if it was too much, hurt too badly to take that step back, and then he lost not only his boyfriend, but his best friend? And their lives were so entwined, they shared much of the same friend group, would he lose them, too? Choosing Dream over him because Hob was clearly the one being ridiculous and overemotional? 

Catastrophizing, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his therapist rang in his head.

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the tentative knock on his door, glancing at the clock to see that, yes, he has spent the entire morning worrying and fussing and it is in fact the time he asked Dream to come over. 

Hob honest to God straightens his shirt. As though that will help.

What does help is opening the door and seeing the subtle way Dream brightens. No matter how stoic he tries to be, Dream has always been terrible at hiding how very fond he is of Hob, something Hob is eternally grateful for. It’s nice to have the reassurance. Especially now.

“Hello Hob,” he smiles, giving him a quick peck as Hob gestures for him to enter. He takes two steps inside before halting, raising an eyebrow as he glances around Hob’s impeccable flat. He’s been here before, he knows this isn’t the usual state of things. “It seems you were productive today.”

Hob laughed nervously, which only made Dream turn his gaze to look at him curiously, “Ah, yeah, you know, the motivation just sort of hit, haha.”

Dream frowned slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding rapidly, Hob starts herding Dream into the living room, “Yeah, absolutely, I just-” Dream allows him to gently push him to sit on the couch, “I mean, I am fine, there’s just something I wanted to talk to you about,” he paces in front of Dream for a moment as his boyfriend’s head moves to follow him silently, “And it’s nothing bad. Or, or at least I don’t think it is. It just… it just is, y’know?” 

He turns back to look at Dream and finds him staring, blinking slowly in carefully reigned in confusion, “No. I don’t know. What’s going on?”

Hob released a shuddering breath, dropping down to sit a respectable distance away from Dream on the couch. “Okay, I…” Hob wrung his hands together, “I had a whole speech planned, but I didn’t write it down and now I can’t remember any of my talking points, so I… I’m just gonna say it.”

Dream nodded, brow furrowed in concern as Hob closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m transgender.”

Even just saying the words made his chest feel lighter. It was out in the open now. Whatever happened, happened. 

And what happened was Dream reaching out to gently cover his tense hands with one of his own.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Opening his eyes, Hob looked over, and his breath caught in his chest at the soft smile Dream was giving him, the one he only showed Hob, “I know that must have been hard,” Dream continued, running his thumb over Hob’s knuckles, “thank you for trusting me with that.”

“So,” Hob’s voice was breathless, a smile slowly creeping onto his face, “So you’re okay with it?”

“Of course!” Dream took both of Hob’s hands into his, eyes wide and anxious in a way Hob had come to recognize meant he was afraid of being misunderstood, “Of course I’m okay with it! I’m sorry if I ever made you think I wouldn’t be. I l-...” He swallowed thickly, “I care about you so much, Hob. This doesn’t change that at all.”

Hob couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the cut off confession. Dream had warned him of his struggles with love, especially with “falling too fast”. Despite Hob reassuring him that Hob also had a history of falling far faster than some would deem reasonable, Dream still tiptoed around it, always wary of scaring Hob off. So it meant something that he had come so close to slipping.

“I care about you, too,” Hob leaned forward to press his forehead against Dream’s shoulder, letting out a relieved laugh, “God, I was so nervous!”

Dream pet his hair, “Understandable. I know it’s a big deal. But I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

For a few minutes they stay pressed together, Dream a comforting presence as Hob let the adrenaline bleed from him. When he finally pulled back, they smiled at each other. Before he had a chance to lean in to kiss him, Dream spoke again.

“So,” he tilted his head questioningly, “should I use she/her pronouns from now on?”

Hob could feel the record scratch in his brain. 

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Shook his head, “What?”

Dream frowned, “I just meant in private. I wouldn’t change pronouns in public if you’re not ready for that. I’d never want to out you. Although I’d be more than happy to support you whenever you want to begin social transitioning.”

“Transitioning?” Hob was still waiting for his brain to restart. He felt like he was in the twilight zone. Dream was smart, Dream was studying astrophysics, there was simply no way-

“I’m sorry,” Dream bit his lip nervously, “I don’t mean to make assumptions. I just want to make sure that when we’re together I refer to you as you want. Would you prefer they/them? She/they?”

“What? No. What??” Hob shook his head rapidly as he realized that no, this wasn’t a dream, this was actually happening, “No, Dream, it’s the other way around!”

“...They/she?”

“No!” And even as he yelled the word, Hob’s face split into a grin and he burst out laughing. Dream blinked in confusion, looking like he didn’t know whether to be offended or not, and it only made Hob laugh harder.

“Dream, babe, sweetheart,” Hob gasped for breath, trying to pull himself together and failing, “I’m a trans man! I’ve already transitioned, that’s what I was trying to tell you!”

For a moment Dream just stared, blinking slowly like a cat. Like a particularly dumb orange cat.

“... He/him, then?”

All Hob could do was keep laughing. 

Slowly, Dream began to giggle too, which only made Hob laugh harder, which made Dream laugh, and the vicious cycle continued until they were both doubled over with tears on their faces.

“You are the smartest person I know, how are you such a himbo?” Hob exclaimed.

“Shut up!” Dream shoved him playfully, “I was being supportive!”

Hob couldn’t resist. He threw himself forward, tackling Dream back onto the couch, allowing himself to lay on top of him as he kissed him clumsily, barely suppressing his grin enough to press their lips together, “God, I love you so much.”

A laugh caught in Dream’s throat, his eyes widening. Hob doesn’t want to pressure him, so he smiles, leaning in to rub their noses together, coaxing a soft giggle from him. He just wants to make him comfortable in the wake of a confession that he knows is a lot for Dream, he’s not expecting anything back right now.

He thinks maybe it’s that sentiment that allows Dream to look up at him and reply, “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” Hob grinned, leaning back so he is sitting up and stradling Dream’s hips, “Even though- and I can’t believe I have to say this outloud but now I have to make absolutely sure you understand- I have a cunt?”

Dream sputtered, face flushing at Hob’s bluntness. And yet, even as he pouts, he nods, “Yes. I love you, however you are.”

“You would love me if I was a worm?” Hob teased.

Dream nodded solemnly, replying completely seriously, “I would love you if you were a worm.”

Hob’s grin softened, and he leaned down to kiss Dream again.

And then, feeling bold and brave and loved, he grinned mischievously.

“I hope you know I’ll be telling this story at our wedding.”

(Years later, Hob will end the story by telling their guests about how Dream smacked him in the face with a pillow.)

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #trans Hob #Dream is a little confused but he got the spirit #I considered waiting longer to post this since CHBB stuff literally JUST happened #but I'm impatient lol

[bellamybellamyblake]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #acomaf #acowar #acofas #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #acotar angst #tw: sa #tw: sa mention

[knchins]

Heat of the Night - Tighnari

Summary:  Unable to leave for solitude in the forest, Tighnari finds himself unable to resist the thing he wants most: you.

Pairing: Tighnari x Reader

Reader Type: AFAB - gender neutral

Rating: E+

Word Count: 2.1k

Kinktober Prompt: Breeding + Yandere

Warnings: Tighnari is a virgin (reader is not), heat/mating cycle, yandere/obsessive behavior, mild dubcon, masturbation, a lil voyeurism, cunnilingus, some overstimulation, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, lots of cum, cream pies, breeding (obvs), scratching/biting/marking, a lil blood, brief mention of pregnancy

Kinktober Masterlist

Tighnari knew better than to be anywhere near Gandharva Ville whenever that time of year came around. For two months he stayed mostly deep in the forest, only returning to the village whenever it was absolutely necessary to resupply. Even then he returned only in the still of the night when everyone was sleeping with the exception of the select few that were keeping watch. 

This year was different. Collei had fallen ill and he knew his duty was to stay near her, making sure her symptoms were alleviated to the best of his ability. After all, he was the only one in the ville that could treat her properly. At least that was what he had believed. 

You had been the latest addition, a young botanist that wished to learn from who they felt were the best in Sumeru. Tighnari didn't take well to flattery, but he didn't hate it either. Long days and nights in the forest together had undoubtedly formed a bond between the two of you. A bond Tighnari himself didn't quite understand. You were a quick learner and didn’t ask too many silly questions. He found himself enjoying teaching you about the various plants and wildlife of the rainforest.

The heat cycle wasn't always as predictable as he would have liked to admit. Usually, he could sense it in the back of his mind. He would become gradually more irritable. Being around others would be more difficult as his time grew near. His sense of smell increased, his fur always felt on edge, and the way his cock was constantly getting excited by any sliver of skin he saw were all signs that it was time for him to leave for his solo excursion. 

But that would mean leaving you behind too.

Tighnari never had a target for his affections before. In fact, he was mostly solitary when it came to romance or mating. Truth be told he had no desire to find a mate or even lose his virginity. He was content with this way of life, even if it did make things difficult when he was in heat. After all, if he had someone to drill his cock into day and night for hours on end, then he'd have no need to leave the ville in search of solitude. 

Before his usual symptoms cropped up, he felt something entirely different. A deep seeded need to be inside of you. How many times had he followed you into the forest to spy, saying he was just trying to make sure you were safe? How many times did he take the night watch just to be able to pass by your tent and watch you sleep? When did he start to feel hot rage whenever you gave anyone else your attention? 

He didn't know. He couldn't fathom what this behavior meant. Mating was such a permanent decision to bestow upon someone he'd only known for half a year. It wasn’t as if pregnancy just went away after the heat had finally died down. 

It wasn't something he could just bring up in casual conversation either. At night he couldn't sleep and during the day concentrating on anything other than your scent, your smile, your body was completely impossible. 

He knew his behavior was becoming unacceptable as Collei’s Eleazar symptoms only grew worse. He should leave. Staying here was dangerous for not only himself but for you as well. The desire to protect you from everyone, including himself was almost too much to take. He had to stay strong, he had to resist, he had to make sure you were okay… 

Tighnari threw the blanket off of himself and peeked out of his tent, trying to see if any of the night watchers was outside. He listened closely, kept his nose to the oncoming wind, and his ears pricked. He found the nearest person wouldn't able to sense or see him from their distance. 

His hands shook with need. Despite the cooler air, he was sweating from the heat that shook him. He pressed his tongue against one of his fangs, hoping the pain and taste of blood would distract him long enough to keep his head straight. 

He was mistaken. 

As soon as the wind shifted and he smelled something utterly divine did he lose all possible control. It was sweeter than a sunsetta, more potent than any flowering plant he'd ever come across. The unmistakable scent of arousal that most certainly wasn't his own had him salivating so much that he had to constantly swallow to keep from drooling. 

His cock sprung to attention in his loose-fitting pants. He crept closer to your tent, peering inside to see you knuckle deep in your own pussy, working yourself over as his name whimpered off your lips. 

Before this moment, Tighnari had never experienced what one would call love. Now, unable to stop himself, he wrenched open the flap that covered the entryway and you let out a surprised squeak of embarrassment after seeing who it was that just entered your tent. 

Your eyes had already acclimated to the dark and you could tell it was Tighnari's frame in the entryway. You couldn't help but notice that he didn't seem quite himself. Was he angry that you were trying to cum using fantasies you thought of about him fucking you? Disappointed? Was he going to kick you out of the village? 

"Tigh-" he was on top of you before you could finish, face between your legs and nose against your swollen clit as he inhaled deeply. He had no control over his actions, his baser instinct taking over as he dared to taste the honey-like slick that coated your lower lips. 

Was there a word stronger than addiction? Tighnari felt as if he'd never lived before tasting you for the very first time. He could feel himself throbbing in his thin linen pants as he feverishly lapped at your core and clit, nearly rubbing them raw with his tongue as you put a hand over your mouth to muffle the cries spilling from them. 

His claws were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping them anchored in place in a way that would have bruises blossoming. You had already been so close to climax, so on edge that his sloppy use of his mouth was enough to have you spasming and jerking beneath him as you reached your first high.

It rolled over you in thick waves, your mind weary as you tried to figure out what in the hell just happened. Had you fallen asleep? Was this another wet dream? You had never cum like that before in a dream. 

Tighnari didn't stop, he was still latched onto you, licking you dry as if his life depended on it. "Tighnari- ah! - Stop!" You whimpered as he sent you into overstimulation. The abuse of your clit is almost painful. He didn't seem to hear you, prompting you to reach down and tug on one of the long ears that you had wished to touch since the first time you laid eyes on him. It was softer than you imagined, feeling almost like velvet on your fingertips. 

The sound that erupted from him was heavenly, the needy growl that had him leaning into your hand briefly before flipping you over onto your stomach. "Have to-" He panted, his thoughts not making much sense anymore as he felt almost sick with a fever. "Breed you." 

The words hit you like a freight train, your pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you with his cum, having his cute fox-eared kits, being bound to him forever through one simple act of sex. It wasn't as if you hadn't dreamt of it for countless nights. Tighnari may have been oblivious to your desires but now it seemed that he had shared them all along. 

You balled your hands into fists, the sheets bunching up between your fingers as you arched your back and spread your knees slightly to present yourself to him fully. Unashamed at the display as you heard him let out a string of almost unintelligible curses. 

There was a shuffling of clothing as Tighnari pulled his still throbbing penis from his pants. He hissed at his own touch, having never felt quite this sensitive before. Pre-cum had stained his pants and had spread over his head while he had been devouring your juices and becoming intoxicated with your sweet scent.

He pressed his tip to your hole before effortlessly sliding in, gasping at the tight dampness that was your core. Your walls sucked him in deep, his head nearly kissing your cervix as he started to rut into you with desperation. Your moans sound like soothing bells to his ears as he felt an entirely new sensation of having his dick wrapped securely by pussy.

It was too much for him, he was too lost in the movement as he shot his first load inside of you. Disappointment shot through you as the fear that he was finished already struck. Certainly, a few pumps of his cock wasn't all it took to get him off?

Tighnari was too out of it to be embarrassed. His cock was still hard as he continued to pound into you, his claws digging into the flesh of your hips as he leaned over you to latch onto the back of your neck. His fangs pierced you and he basked in the way the pain made your slick walls flutter around him. 

"Tighnari" Your voice came out as a whimper. He was swift and agile, the angle absolutely perfect as his pace someone managed to increase. Your eyes rolled back as your head turned slightly to give him better access to your neck. 

It was loud, the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt. You were sure your neighbors and the night watch could easily hear the two of you. It wasn't as if either of you were being particularly quiet. Tighnari's low growls and grunts every time you clenched around him were practically bouncing off the tent’s thin walls. 

He wanted them to know who you belong to, wanted you to sing his name with that beautiful voice of yours. Your cries needed to be heard by everyone in the village so they'd know better than to even look in your direction again. 

TIghnari came once more, painting your walls and injecting your cervix with his seed. He still didn't stop, relentless and feral as he lapped at the small dots of blood around your neck. 

Your body quaked with a second orgasm that erupted shortly after his own. You sang his name again as your back arched. One of his hands moved off your hip and traveled up your shirt to pinch the hardened nipple of your right breast. 

Soon, he thought, soon they'd be so much bigger, so full of milk for his offspring. Exhaustion was creeping up on him as his thrusts became more half-hearted. He simply humped lazily until he came a third time. Your chest had collapsed onto the bed, trapping his hand as he nuzzled the space between your shoulder blades. 

Your body continued to twitch beneath him, walls changing from squeezing to relaxing intermittently. Semen was dripping down both your and Tighnari's legs. It covered his pants, likely to harden and stain sometime between now and morning. 

Tighnari kneaded your breast still, enjoying the softness of your skin. Slowly his senses started to come back to him. The lustful haze that had overwhelmed him was dissipating and the revelation of what he had done was starting to creep in and overtake him. 

His hips stopped, though he was almost certain he could probably cum again if he really wanted to. He finally pulled away from you and gobs of his white seed dripped from your core like thick honey. With his keen eyesight, he could see the scratches and bite marks that covered your hips and neck. A frown etched across his lips as he watched you heave with heavy breaths, still coming down from your own intense high. 

He murmured your name softly, an apology somewhere hidden in the sound. This was the first time he had ever lost control like that. The first time he had ever acted like a complete animal. Inside he was scolding himself, telling himself that he should have left sooner. He should have left Collei's care to you instead as he stayed far, far away from you.

And regret, regret in the thought that this could have possibly never happened was somehow more painful than having done the act itself. Sensing his troubled thoughts, you managed to roll over back onto your back after having finally caught your breath. 

The soft smile on your face came as a relief. At least you weren't mad at what he had done to you, though he was sure you didn't know exactly what your coming together just now had meant. Even now he found himself speechless, unable to tell you that...

Foxes mate for life.

#tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #genshin impact #tighnari imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin smut #tighnari smut #i have no idea what to tag this sorry #kinktober #genshin #genshin fanfic

[kechiwrites]

white flag toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader part 5/?

synopsis: maybe it's time to give up the ghost. lord knows you tried.

wc: 2k

cw: afab!reader, angst, hurt and some comfort (finally), language, allusions to postpartum depression, abandonment issues, trust issues, no gendered language, discussions of pregnancy. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: the talk is finally here! i hope you enjoy, i am very proud of it. new to baby blue? start here.

It’s almost one in the morning when the bed creaks under Ghost's body, signalling his departure. The immediate absence of his warmth, the loss of his skin on yours makes you miserable in a way you wish you didn't have to examine. It makes you feel weak and yearning and empty and wistful all at once, tumbling all the emotions together until it spills out of your mouth unbidden.

“Will you stay?” You whisper it, almost as if you want it to go unheard.

It's heard.

Immediately, Ghost stops moving, stops dressing. Hell, you're almost positive he'd stopped breathing.

“You want me to?” he turns to face you, expression typically placid but his body frozen with tension.

You feel like you’re going to be sick all over your sheets when you croak “yeah” out into the stillness of your bedroom, spitting your white flag at his feet, for him to accept or trample over. 

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity. Staring into each other's faces like they hold the answers to all the bullshit questions you made in each other. 

You break first. 

"C'mere. Please." You shift under your blanket, nodding your head towards the indent he’d made in your mattress, the sheets still warm from his heat.

Ghost is quick to move, reclaiming his spot in your bed, sliding under your covers and into your grasp, where you can cling to him like you wanted to years ago. Like you want to now. 

Your head sits on the swell of his chest, his heart beating even and quick below your ear. The position you're in makes your lower back twinge, but neither of you move, your legs now twisted in his. Initially, when he’d returned after Tommy’s fourth birthday, you’d been worried about what you’d say to him, how you’d finally tell him everything you’ve been thinking from the moment he left you. Now, the words are easy. They come when they are called, straight from your mind, stewed in your grief, pinched, sorrowful words, soaked with your tears, spoken into the dark, thin fabric of his shirt.

“I hate you.” You gasp, and wind howls through the cavern in your chest, “I hate you so much, I wish I never met you.” Hot tears burn your eyes and slide over your nose and cheeks, you hiccup through your burning throat and just speak.

"You ruined my life, you gave me this person, this little person who needs me for everything, and then you abandoned me. For so long I hated you and I hated him." Ghost's chest stops rising and falling for a moment when you confess it, the shame and anger catching him off guard. It's clear he can't quite believe it after seeing you with Tommy day after day, being who your son needed you to be, raising him, loving him, all like it was second nature. And why should he? He was off God knows where, doing God knows what while you tumbled through heavy bouts of depression and self loathing. Days where you wanted to stay rotting in your bed, but Tommy's reedy, desperate cries forced you to rise, to resist. 

"I hated my own son. My baby. Because of you." The window in your bedroom is open, and the rain outside gets heavier, like it’s trying to drown out the sounds of your confession, your accusation, like it wants to bury your humiliation and vitriol under the rushing white noise. Fill the cavern with water instead of letting it close.

“Why couldn't you just stay for me, Simon? Why couldn't you be who I needed you to be?” 

He’s breathing again, slow and steady but you can hear his heart thud irregularly in his chest, like it’s trying to follow the thread of your thoughts, but it can’t quite keep tempo. 

‘He’s scared.’ you think, and for the first time, in a long time, it doesn’t feel good. 

“I felt like I was dying. Tommy has your big ass head,” your laughter sounds like a death rattle, but you press on, spilling the dark, black ichor of the past onto Simon, into the bed you share. "It hurt so bad, the worst pain I ever felt. And I was alone. You left me alone. I wanted to die so bad.”

“I'm sorry.” he finally speaks, and it’s always a little surreal to hear his voice without it being muffled by a mask after so long. Strange to hear how deep and clear his voice can be when there isn’t a barrier between you, or your blood rushing past your ears. 

Ghost is holding you so tight, like you’ll get up and bolt at any minute, and maybe you will. Cause he’d deserve it. He’d deserve to be left behind. Just this once.

“Why? You knew what you were doing to me. You left knowing I wanted him. Knowing I'd do it all by myself. And now you're back, and you want to what? Fuck me? Break me? What do you want, Simon? How can I make you stop this…game you're playing.” You’re crying again, a small headache beginning to form at the base of your skull, reminding you what sorrow costs, what getting it all out will bring you. Pain. Pain that leaves you feeble and empty and bone-fucking-tired.

Somehow, his arms tighten around you further, feeling all at once like attachment and hatred and deep deep longing for intimacy with the one person who saw you as you were and decided he didn't want to stick around to see the rest. 

“And you know what? I know that none of this means shit for you because I let you fuck me again. Because I have no goddamn self control." You have to rein yourself back from shouting into the dark. "No self respect. A-and I can't stop missing you, missing you and me together, because it felt so real, it felt like you loved me." You anchor yourself up, letting the tears that collected on your nose and cheeks fall onto his chest. The pressure in your ears changes and you sniff against your runny nose. You feel pathetic, tiny in the wake of the all encompassing ache he brings with him everywhere. You can barely see him in the dark but you try to meet his eyes anyway. "If you ever, ever cared about me, if you care about your son, Simon, you will stop trying to break me down. You will give up on being a family. You lost your fucking chance. And it's not fair for you to come back when I know - I know - you're going to leave again."

You're short of breath and light headed when you finally stop, gulping down air and springing up tears for the third time, burning hot on your face, stinging your eyes so badly you worry the pain will never subside.

He waits a moment, before he sits up too, like he wants to be sure you got it all out before he tries and inevitably fails to make everything better. 

"I fucked up. I get that. But I can't let go of it. Of this." His voice creates this itch inside your head, like it needs something specific to go away. You’re sitting between his legs now, hands fisted in your soft white blanket, the body warmed fabric poking out between your fingers. 

“I’m trying, and you don’t want me to. He doesn’t need me to. But I want to.”

You both sit with it for a while, chewing on each other’s regrets, on his mistakes, on your heartache. It’s strange, hearing an actual apology from him, like you’d dreamed about early on. Cloudy blue and pink fantasies about opening your front door and seeing the father of your child on his knees, begging for forgiveness, grovelling for a second chance. It hadn’t happened, of course. And you’d let him into your bed anyway, because you’d missed him, four years and five months had passed you by and you still felt his absence, still felt cold at night, still felt empty in the morning. So when he knocked, you let him in.

And maybe that’s where the next question you ask him comes from. You were rarely jealous when you were actually "together", but now, the idea of Simon, your Simon, cuddled up with someone different? Enjoying himself while you toiled? Chuckling deep and low while you cried to your ceiling? It made your stomach turn. Maybe you weren't so much jealous as you were bitter. Bitter, you knew. Bitter was your closest friend. Bitter stood by your side while you raised your son, paid your bills, scrubbed your floors. Bitter was all you could taste lately.

"Was there ever…anyone else?"

He shifts next to you. Tries to play it off like a stretch. Like the line of questioning didn't burrow under his skin like a mite, eager to lay eggs that hatch guilt into his blood.

But you know better. You know him better. 

"No one important." He mutters. 

"Well that doesn't matter, I wasn't important and you knocked me up!" Your laugh smacks of your best friend, its acrid taste settling in your mouth.

"You were important. Are important." He asserts, circling his hand around the back of your neck, squeezing once before he lets go.

"Not enough for you to stay. Or call." You mumble.

You aren't even looking at him and you know his hand is up over his face, shielding him from God knows what. 

“I needed you to stay the same. And you couldn’t anymore.” You want to turn and face him, argue that he changed you. You didn’t make your son by yourself after all. He stops you, keeps you facing your bedroom wall while he hunches over to press his face into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

"And I don’t want to need anybody, I haven’t in a long time."

"Least of all me, huh?"

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I don’t know shit.” You gesture around your hands waving over the entire of your bedroom. “Clearly. If I knew what you thought of me, we wouldn’t be here. In this fucking…mess. Right?” 

It’s another white flag, if you were being honest, an opportunity for him to take your olive branch and not smack you across the face with it. A sign that the fuel for this particular fire, at least, has begun to burn out, leaving little but glowing embers behind.  

In lieu of speaking, his arms tighten around you again. It’s not an answer, not really, but you leave it alone. You push on a different wound. And another. And another. You poke and prod Simon with every question you’d had while he was gone, and you don’t care about the blood you leave in your wake. 

“Does the force know?” They do now.

“How?” I told ‘em.

“Why’d you tell them?” It’s…You’re important.

“No we aren’t. Not to you.” A shake of the head and a quiet rebuttal.

Eventually, it feels like the two of you keep speaking in circles, he asserts things are different, you doubt and lay righteous blame, he apologizes and asserts things have changed now, and so on and so forth until the late hour tugs at your swollen eyelids. He pulls you down to the mattress, lays back and arranges you across his chest once more. Your legs fit together a little better now, and you can feel sleep slowly taking hold of you. 

Before you slip under, you murmur into his chest; "Simon.” He makes a low noise in his throat, an indication of his attention. “Do you love me? Did you ever love me?" It’s a plea for the truth, for an answer so irrefutable that it finally soothes the ache, scratches the itch, mends the torn fabric that lays between you.

"You're as close as I ever got." You feel his lips press against the crown of your head before you fall asleep, succumbing to a simple, dreamless slumber.

When you wake up the next morning, he's there. Not sleeping. His hair is a mess, and his face is bare. He's reclined against your headboard, reading a romance paperback you borrowed from the library, frowning at the yellowed pages like it's written in Latin.

When you start to cry, he holds you until Tommy stirs awake, knocking at your door for Sunday morning pancakes.

so...what'd we think? this one made my husband cry :)

series masterlist here

support city girls who like sad broken men, reblog what you like.

#ghost x black reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost mw2 #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x black!reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod mw2 smut #cod x you #ghost x gn reader #ghost cod #kechiwrites #baby daddy ghost #baby blue fic

[astrae4]

MELTING POINT | shen quanrui | TEASER

IN WHICH Emperor Zhanghao uses the imperial command to wed both you and Prince Shen. Normally, one would be happy to be wedded to a prince and become one of the most powerful ladies in the Empire. However, the young master of the Ducal house of Shen is said to be a cold and indifferent man. Oh! And did I mention that your duchy and his are enemies? Right! The cherry on top—I almost forgot that you have a weak body too haha… How will you survive the harsh Northern lands? Will you get along well with your husband? Will you be treated alright in an unfamiliar environment? Shall you just return back to the comfort of your home?

FEATURING Zerobaseone’s Ricky as the son of Duke Shen, Prince Shen Quanrui and you as the daughter of Duke Han, Princess Han Y/N.

GENRE romance, angst, fluff | historical fantasy, supposed enemies to lovers, forced marriage, northern duke au

WARNINGS non-gender neutral reader (reader will be using female pronouns/titles), forced marriage, infidelity, mention of heart attack, mild swearing, and blatant favoritism.

NOTE wc: 1.4k | to be released on AFTER HIATUS, if you want to be tagged when the full oneshot is released, then either comment or send an ask regarding this post. Thank you!

MORE WORKS — navigation | zb1!masterlist

ACT ONE: THE IMPERIAL COMMAND

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN, all your life, you’ve been told to hate someone because they’re your family’s opponent and then all of a sudden (in a matter of five days), you need to act as if you’ve been on good terms with them? No guidebook or school course could have prepared you for what’s to happen right now.

Yes, of course you’re aware that you’d be married off to your father’s choice of family for all your life, you think you’ve accepted it already. I mean, one would think so after being reminded of it all your life right? It’s not like it’s uncommon anyways. Everyone in the nobility marries through convenience and then has flings with their lovers. It’s more common than you think. You’d know, since you caught one of your father’s friends with their mistress once.

Yet, who’d assume that you’d be married off to the Ducal House of Shen of all people? You don’t think you would have put that in your bingo (yes, bingo exists back then) list this year—or any year to be honest.

For a bit of background to the confused readers (breaking the fourth wall let’s gaurr), The Zerose Empire exists with four ducal houses: Park, which exists in the west; Kim, from the South; Han of the East, and Shen of the North. Your family, The Ducal house of Han, has always been in opposition with the Ducal house of Shen. It was a fact that everyone knew, and it was a dislike that stemmed from way back then. (one so long that you don’t even know the reason anymore, just that you weren’t supposed to like them.)

And yes, the dislike is still rooted to this day. You could imagine how tired the Emperor, other noble houses, and ministry workers were. By this point they were quite sick of the petty arguments from both the ducal households. So sick, in fact, that Emperor Zhanghao IV, used the imperial command and declared that “Duke Han shall bring forth his most beloved daughter to marry Duke Shen’s successor.”

Your father almost had a heart attack after the declaration, but it was of no use to bargain since the imperial command was used.

In your opinion, father was a pretty good man. Not perfect or clean of course, but good. Your mother was the first wife, and surprisingly, the only wife he truly loved. It was unfortunate that mother died a year after you were born because of her weak body, and even more unfortunate that her only child turned out to be pretty weak too. He had remarried once more since then, and has had a few mistresses and children out of wedlock in an attempt to cure his aching heart. Despite the new ladies, you were still the first in his heart considering you were the only child he had out of the wife he loves.

Having a big room beside your father’s in the second floor all to yourself when all the others had to be in the first floor spiked a few jealous hearts, but your father was persistent and only allowed you the best despite your not-so-healthy body. So it was to no one’s surprise that Emperor Zhanghao meant for your father to pick you to be married to the young master of the Shen Ducal house.

That was five days ago. Your father had begged for your understanding to comply with the Emperor’s words despite him not liking the command either. He had told you that it was for the unity of the Empire and that the Ducal house of Shen had promised to your father and the Emperor that they would treat you with utmost respect; and that if they break that promise, you would be sent back with ten times the alimony paid by your father. (and boy was the original alimony already a crazy amount)

You had told your father to not worry about it as you knew your father worried for you greatly. After all, in his eyes, you were still the weak baby that he held in his arms just last week. How could he send a weak child to the harsh northern lands where you were unfamiliar with everything? Of course, you had your own worries too. Different from your father’s, though. Mostly about your own soon to be husband.

Unlike your family, where many children reside, the Ducal house of Shen only had one heir. The young master of the North, Shen Quanrui, was said to be a cold man according to the rumors you’ve heard from your maids. He was quiet and reserved, only showing his face in high society once in a blue moon. Similar to you in that matter, except it was because you were often too sick to attend rather than introverted.

You too had only met him once, in the Empire’s founding anniversary ball. Though you didn’t have the best memory, you could easily recall that face of his. Blonde hair that seemed to be dyed and striking blue eyes, it was as if he stepped out of a fantasy storybook. You’re sure he wore colored contacts back then, considering that both the Duke and Duchess had dark eyes. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that he was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You remember exchanging eye contact with him for a bit longer than you should have, and you remember how he raked your appearance with his eyes as if he was the hunter and you were the prey. You rolled your eyes and left back then despite the butterflies you got.

The sound of your bedroom door opening strips you out of your imagination.

”Sister,” said the voice of a young boy, “can I come in?”

”Yes,” you answered, “come in, Yujin.”

Han Yujin, the son of your father and his second mistress, was the only half-sibling you deemed close to you. His mother had died early on due to the same sickness as yours did, leaving him alone to fend off all the jealous eyes around him. You had sympathized with him, so you decided to keep him close and make him untouchable as one of your people. The young boy has since then grown attached to you, listening attentively to everything you say. Now, the young boy had become strong and wise, making him one of the successor candidates.

”I heard from father that you’d be married to that damned man, Shen Quanrui or whatever,” Sulked Yujin.

”That damned man,” you sighed, “is still a respectable man who fended off the wild beasts and is a close aide of the Emperor, you shouldn’t speak of him with that tone.”

“But—sister! He’s our enemy, we’re not supposed to like him! And—and, I heard from the maids that he’s a cruel and heartless man. What if he treats you harshly and locks you up in a tower or something!? What if he’s an indifferent husband who never looks after his wife and just messes around with other women? You deserve someone who’d love you and treat you as the apple of their eye—someone like—”

”Yujin,” Your voice stopped his train of thoughts as you held his hand, “don’t worry too much, okay? It’s not like I’m going there alone. My personal maids and Dr. Seok would be with me in the North, and they would report to father if anything happened. If he ever treats me cruelly, then I’ll be back here before you know it.”

”But still…I don’t want you away from me..”

“AWEE is my baby brother worried for me~” you teased as you squished him into a hug, emitting a loud Hey! from him as he tried to get out of your tight grasp.

Whether your words were to reassure him or you; however, you don’t know.

Who would have known that you’d get married to that man two weeks from now? Who would have known that you’d have to pretend like you didn’t hate this man all your life because you’re supposed to marry him? Who would have known that the first time you’d exchange pleasantries with your soon to be husband would be in your wedding aisle? Who would have known that you’d be moving away from your father’s protection and into the cold and dangerous land in less than a month? Goodness, may the heavens spare you.

TAGLIST — @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss

© astrae4 2024 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

#zb1 #zerobaseone #ricky x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 x you #zerobaseone x reader #ricky #zb1 ricky #shen ricky #shen quanrui #shen quanrui x reader #shen ricky x reader #han yujin #yujin #zb1 yujin #zb1 fics #seok matthew #zb1 matthew #kim jiwoong #sung hanbin #zhang hao #kim taerae #kim gyuvin #park gunwook #oneshot #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone scenarios #jebewon

[tangerinesgf]

Hi, so excited your requests are open! The morning after a very steamy sex session with Tangerine?

Tangerine x gn!reader (gender is not specified but reader is referred to as having the body of a person fab.)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fluff (18+ Minors DNI!!)

Disclaimer: As per usual English is not my first language, I tried my best with the British slang. Also this isn't proofread so all mistakes are my own.

A/N: Since its the new year I thought it'd be fun to theme this around that. Hope you enjoy it!! This is also my first time writing smut so pls go easy on me, the plan wasn't even to write this with smut, but somehow we ended up here.

You could feel Tangerine's warm breath on your neck as you slowly awakened from your sleep, his arm holding your body tight to his own.

Looking over your shoulder you could see he was still fast asleep. The usual frown on his face was no where to be seen. He looked so peaceful and innocent.

Innocent was the last thing the two of you had been last night. It had been one hell of a night to say the least.

This had been your first New Years Eve with the twins. More over, your first New Years Eve with your new boyfriend, Tangerine.

You'd spend the entire evening playing various board games. Tangerine had been more than happy to participate after you made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

"If you do this, I'll let you do whatever you want with me tonight." You'd whispered in his ear.

Tangerine's eyes had gone wide, his body stiffening under your touch. And even though he was terrible at board games he did all of them, like the perfect boyfriend he is.

After the countdown, new years kisses and a lot of champagne Tangerine almost pushed Lemon out of the front door.

"Time to hold up your end of the deal, darling."

Everything after that was a blur to you. What you did remember however is that was the most mind-blowing sex you had ever had.

That's how you ended up here. In Tangerine's bed, tangled up in each others bodies, the smell of sex still in the air.

Wanting to take a shower you tried to untangle yourself from your boyfriend. He however had no intention of letting you go. Tangerine's arm tightened around you, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Stay in bed with me." Tangerine whispered as he nuzzled his face in the side of your neck.

"Tan, I feel disgusting I'm gonna take a shower."

"You didn't think it was disgusting when you were screaming my name last night." You felt him smirking against your neck.

"Don't get cocky."

You gently moved Tangerine's hand off of you and went to sit on the side of the bed. You heard him whine at the loss of your touch.

Before you could even sit up his hands were all over you, pushing you back down on the bed as he straddled your hips.

"Come on, admit it, no one can fuck ya like I can." The smirk on his face almost reached his eyes.

It's true, though you'd never admit it out loud. It's not like his ego needs the extra boost anyway.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and tried to push him off, but he didn't budge.

"Uh uh, I'm not lettin' ya leave 'till you fess up."

You tried to look annoyed, but you were loving this and he knew it. If he had his way, and let's be honest he probably would, you two wouldn't be leaving this bed all day.

"You know you want to." He teased, placing kisses from your jaw to your collarbone.

And god you did, but you were loving this game a little too much to confess right away.

Your breathing started to get a little heavier when he trailed his hand down to your pajama pants. Sliding inside them, he rested his hand on your clothed clit not applying any pressure to it.

"Tan.." you whined.

He always knew exactly which buttons to push and you hated how easy it was for him. In a matter of seconds he's already got you on edge again.

"Yes, love?" His accent thick, smirk returning to his face. If you weren't so turned on right now, you'd slap that stupid smirk off of his fucking face.

"Please-" you breath hitched when he started applying a bit of pressure on your clit.

"All ya gotta do is say it."

You shook your head, wondering how long you'd be able to keep this up. Your question was answered when he firmly pressed two fingers down on your still clothed pussy.

"Fuck, shit okay, you win, please.. I need you." You basically pleaded with him, not being able to withstand the build up anymore.

"Still haven't said it, darlin'." He said, continuing his kisses down your neck.

"No one can fuck me like you, Tan, now will you please get on with it?"

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?."

Finally he slipped his hand into your panties, pushing one finger inside your folds.

You threw your head back at the sudden feeling of being full. Without warning he added a second finger and started pumping them along your walls.

Your moans got louder as his pace started to get faster and faster. Using his thumb to circle your clit.

"That's it, love. Taking my fingers so well, aren't ya?"

"Y-yeah" you failed to get anything else out of your mouth. Your hands found his hair pulling him down to capture his lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

Tangerine could feel that you were close. He decided to insert a third finger, before crooking them inside you, sending you over the edge.

"Cum for me." He whispered in your ear and that was all it took.

"Fuck." You cried out as you clenched your walls around him, cumming all over his fingers.

You whined at the loss of his fingers when he pulled them out, trying to get your breathing under control.

Never breaking eye contact between the two of you, Tangerine moved his fingers to his mouth and slowly licked your juices off of them.

Fuck, this man really was something else.

"You did so well." He praised kissing the top of your head before laying back down next to you.

"Happy New Year, love."

"Happy New Year." You repeated, turning to face him to capture his lips once again with yours, still being able to taste yourself on his tongue.

You did in fact not leave his bed all day.

A/N: hope you liked that, not bad for a first time I think, feedback is always welcome.🥰 Please comment if you wanna be on my Tangerine taglist.

And most of all, have an amazing 2023!!

Taglist: @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @waiting4ff

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson smut

[v3nusxsky]

best friends mom!emily prentiss and reader. where readers bsf invites her to join their vacation for winter break and r accepts not knowing that emily was her best friends mom that she has been fucking for weeks. a few days there, r decides to go to in the hot tub, emily joins after without thinking. emily and r has unbearable tension so they fuck in the hot tub while emily’s ex husband and r’s best friend are out skiing.

- 🐦

MILF!18+

*Authors note~ I love the Emily prompts so much and I missed writing for my favourite lady*

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink semi public sex, cheating milf Emily x 21 year old reader

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Delilah happened to be your best friend of 2 years, you'd met at college and instantly became thicker than thieves. For anyone who didn't know your story, it appeared you'd been friends for years. Yet realistically you didn't know each others family or home towns, you knew each others college lives inside and out. Delilah mentioned a family vacation she was being taken on and allowed a plus one, which was going to be her ex boyfriend, but the key word there was Ex. So it had all been payed for, she offered you to join in, knowing you'd been swept up in meeting the mystery girl, you'd return covered in love bits and satisfied for a few days. The cycle would repeat but you refused to divulge much information, only offering her gender and saying she's older, but god damn amazing in bed. So the break would do you the world of good.

That was how you found yourself and your best friend driving up to the cabin. A skiing holiday. Both singling obnoxiously loud to a special playlist of all your favourites. The emotional response would change from breakups to sexy to sad to happy and in love, a true mix but all of them loved by you both. When you arrived at the cabin you got all settled in your room before Delilah's dad and step mother arrived.

The shock of your life came when you saw your secret lover stood next to the man Delilah addressed as dad. "Emily" she nodded at your secret lover and that's when your eyes met, she was just as shocked to see you here too. Neither of before realised you were talking of the same girl. Delilah. You knew her as li and Emily addressed her as Delilah, so truly it was understandable how one didn't connect the two. Emily of course told you of her failing arranged marriage, her mother unwilling to accept that Emily was Lesbian so she arranged the marriage with a wealthy man, it made her look good so what was Emily's happiness to her?

With a nervous hi to both adults you began to listen in to what was going on. Delilah and her dad wanting to hit the slope as soon as possible, Emily hoping to stay back at the cabin maybe get a little nap in. So they were completely divided which meant they turned to you. "Uh um I could stay here with Emily? I could do with a nap, I'll hit the slopes tomorrow with you li?" You murmured hoping it would be okay.

Soon enough it had been decided li and her dad would hit the slopes and you and Emily would hang back here. As soon as they both left, Emily made her way to where you were staying, "that's your li?" She murmured as her eyes raked over your body. "You have a step daughter and a mommy kink em?" You teased watching as she smiled and came closer to you to steal a kiss. "Shut up princess you have no problem with calling me mommy when I'm attending to that pretty pussy of yours" she murmured against your lips before shoving you against the wall, the moment your back connected with the wall you let out a ridiculously loud moan. "Now now princess don't scream too loud or we will get caught" she teased before removing herself from you, "get a swim suit on, there's a hot tub and Im sure you'd hate to leave mommy all alone in there" she purred adding a quick swat to your bottom before heading to change.

By the time you had changed, Emily had already found herself in the hot tub, her burgundy swim sit hardly containing her plentiful boobs from spilling out over the cups. Her head lolled back in relaxation as the steam rose hitting cold air. "Mommy?" You whimpered as your need clouded your mind. It had been way too long since you'd had your lips on her pert buds, or lapping at her slick folds, hell you missed being dicked down by her strap. You missed your mommy and here and now with her like that, you just had to have her. "Join me princess" she murmured not even bothering to open her eyes as you scurried to join her.

The water was warm and you couldn't help but moan slightly as it washed over your skin, taking a seat next to Emily. "Now now princess you know mommy likes you on her lap" she murmured causing you to now straddle her lap. "Hello pretty girl" she murmured before kissing you hard enough to make your toes curl. "Mommy" you whined rolling your hips, only to find out she's packing.

"Mommy need you" you whined into her ear. "Princess it's been a few days since we you've had mommy, such a needy little slut aren't you?" She murmured before freeing her strap. "Gonna ride me like a good girl" she demanded really before slipping the binki bottom material to the side before allowing you to sink onto the faux dick.

"Oh mommy, fuck yes more" you whimpered eyes rolling back your head as you felt her hit that spot inside you only she could find. "Come on baby. Let mommy use that pretty pussy of yours" she murmured and you began to bounce on the strap. The hot tub jets adding bubbles to hide what was going on, "mommy mommy fuck want bed" you murmured in coherently. Quickly hoping off her strap you stumbled from the hot tube and to the bedroom you were staying in. Emily got on your heels.

Immediately you were bent over the bed, strap entering your core once more, this time pace being ruthless and erratic, "fuck princess feel so good. Take it. Take mommys cock. Fuck squeezing me so good baby" she moaned as to simply laid there taking the brutal assault, murmuring incoherent words and pleads. "Mommy! Love you mommy mommy please" you whimpered, "gonna cum" you warned. "That's it princess come for me. That's it good girl"

Emily fucked you through your orgasm before slipping from your core and moving to kiss you, "oh princess this holiday is going to be so much fun, now go clean up and look busy they'll be back soon, I love you princess" she murmured before leaving the room to freshen up.

Word count~ 1188

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #anon request #anon requested #🐦 anon

[fanaticsnail]

Pretty Red Ribbon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,700+

Synopsis: After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, birthday, enemies to lovers, nsfw themes, suggestive content, not explicit - but mdni just in case, warlord!reader, platonic crocodile x reader, dom!reader x sub!doflamingo, gendered terms used

Notes: I had been wanting to write for Doflamingo for a while, and the art by @wesaier gave me the final shove that I needed to get it done. (Their Rosinante also has me in a chokehold. I adore their work. Also, happy birthday!) First time writing a proper fic-length for Doffy before his series.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @mfreedomstuff

The soft growl of the den-den-mushi atop your kitchen bench began rattling and humming in an awakened dance. The steam from the scorching water in the kettle whistled in unison to the rumbling call, the rattle of teacups on trays causing your attention to pull in a variety of directions in your large kitchen.

“I’ll get it, Miss,” your employee called from the corner of the room, his body carrying his vast height towards the den-den in three lengthy strides. He picked up the transponder end of the snail, elevating the mouth and earpiece to his face. Thanking him with a smile, you returned to continue readying yourself a cup of your desired tea. 

“You really shouldn’t be making this for yourself, Miss,” your lady’s maid addressed you over your shoulder, “You employ us to take care of you and your needs. You should let us do our jobs and spoil you, especially on a day like today-.”

“-And that will be the last I hear about anything regarding ‘today’, Dinah,” you scolded her with a playful wink, “It’s just another day, and I would like to have it remain as such,” you moved the loose-leaf strainer in your teapot, collecting the remnants of the scorched leaves and discarded them, “Besides, I always love being in the kitchen with you all after another stupid meeting at the world-government headquarters. They always seem to gather any excuse to call us all in: exercising their rights as masters and holders of the tight leash. Absolute bastards, the lot of them.”

“And we adore you down here, Miss,” Dinah lulled her head on your shoulder and laced her hands around your midsection, “We love the gossip about the other warlords, and we always enjoy hearing about your day. You take such good care of all of us, but I think we all just wish you’d let us celebrate your birthday-.”

“-Absolutely not, Dinah,” you giggled at the younger woman embracing you, unlacing her hands from your waist and collecting your teacup and saucer from the tray you had prepared, “Last time I attempted to celebrate this day, I was held up for a multitude of times because that stupid Donquixote continued to ask stupid questions that had the meeting at the marine base go overtime. Missed reservations, didn’t make it to check in time at the homestead - and didn’t even get to enjoy that bottle of wine I ordered for myself. I swore that would be the last time I attempted to celebrate, and that’s that.”

“Just because your last birthday was ruined last year doesn’t mean you should swear them all off, Miss,” your handmaid smiled at you, “We’d adore making you feel special if you’d let us. Today is free of Donquixote Doflamingo, after all.” You growled at just the mention of his name, feeling your disdain elevating in your throat as a sour bile. 

“I despise that tall pelican man. I loathe him, hate him even,” you confessed, prompting Dinah to huff a small laugh in response. You groaned out more frustrated admissions to your lady’s maid, “I would have him drawn and quartered, hung and splayed, whipped and chained. I could wring his neck and spit in his face if I knew the sick bastard wouldn’t like it.” 

“I’m sure he would appreciate any scrap of your attention,” Dinah teased you with a sly tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “He seems to vie for your head to turn, by any means necessary.”

“He vexes me, torments me,” you continued, much to your handmaid's delight, “He needs to be knocked down a couple of pegs. Be made to crawl on all fours and beg like a dog-.”

“-Apologies for the interruption, Miss. I’m sorry to disturb your polite conversation,” the larger man holding the den-den-mushi to his ear held out the earpiece and transceiver to you, “Sir Crocodile is on the other end of the call. Says he has something for you.” You groaned out an exasperated breath before taking the shell into your hand.

“Thank you, Arturo. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I got a little fiery for a moment there,” you nodded to the man, who straightened his back before taking your saucer from your hands. He smiled down at you, moving to his place next to Dinah, anchoring his hips and leaning back against the sink with a smirk.

“What’s the call about?” Dinah whispered in a hushed rush to Arturo beside her.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Arturo hushed back his own scratchy whisper, attempting to hold back his laughter. You shot them both a sharp look, your smirk still drawn up on your pursed lips. 

You raised the end to your ear and huffed out a sigh, calling into the piece, “Sir Crocodile? To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice gracing me today?” A rumble of silence purred through the receiver against your ear, a lengthy puff of smoke coursing through the grimace of the crocodilian man.

“I heard it was somebody’s birthday,” the rattle of his drawl taunted you through the crackled speaker. You shot your employees a dark look, prompting them to immediately spin on their heels and return to their duties. You groaned as you turned to face away from them, still holding the shell to your ear. 

“Not a cause for celebration, Sir,” you purse your lips, examining your fingernails and cuticles, “But I appreciate your call regardless.” Your tone depicted your smile, truth spilling from your lips as you truly meant every word. 

Sir Crocodile was your closest and oldest ally of all the warlords presented to you. You enjoyed sitting by him, both basking in the aura of one another. You held each other in the highest regard, you could even call each other ‘friend’ without it stretching too far out of the ordinary. What solidified your bond the most with one another was your complete and utter dislike for Donquixote Doflamingo. 

“The appreciation is reciprocated, Highness,” Crocodile’s smirk purred through the receiver, “Which is why I decided to send you a little gift. Should be darkening your doorstep right about now.” 

“Sir Crocodile, while I appreciate the sentiment,” you acknowledge his gesture with a kind and even tone, shaking your head as you take your den-den to the front door of your manor, “The only thing I really want is that feather-wearing asshole: stripped down, bound and gagged, on his lanky knees and looking up with his eyes all watery and pleading,” you reached the door, opening it and shrieking in shock as your eyes met with the gift presented before you.

His body was bound in a thick length of red ribbon, chest bare and hands bound behind his back in seastone cuffs. Pointed glasses lay askew on his face with his lips gagged by a ball strapped to his face. Drool gathered at the base of his chin, his glassy eyes looking up at your face with bewilderment. His bare chest was strangled beneath the red ribbon, his pants hanging limply over his hips as the top button and zipper exposed his slender adonis belt. 

Lips falling slack, you almost dropped the shell from your ear as shock wrote itself over your features. Donquixote Doflamingo was bound, gagged and on his knees on your front doorstep: entirely at your mercy. 

“I thought topping it with a pretty red bow would be too on the nose,” Sir Crocodile called over the mushi, “But he is apprehensively allowing himself to be on the receiving end of your retribution, given his disruption of your last birthday celebration.”

No words gathered in your mind, all thoughts racing as the wealthy Donquixote continued to hold his gaze against your own. His lips trembled around the gag, his brow triangulating in an upward peak as he darted his eyes between yours to gauge your intent. 

He had no idea what possessed him to accept this little adventure, and he did not remember agreeing to be cuffed, gagged and without his entourage. As he witnessed the wicked streak spark within your eyes, he truly had no idea what you were going to do with him like this. Without a whisper of admission to it, he truly did everything in his power to gain your attention and hold it for as long as he could. He’d go through great lengths to be subject to your steely gaze.

Ruining your birthday last year was when he felt he truly went too far. You kept your private life quiet for the most part, only a select few were privy to the knowledge of your innermost thoughts. When he was made aware by Sir Crocodile how far he managed to spoil the occasion, he was given a choice by the cigar-smoking gentleman: “Your left hand, or to be subject to her mercy?” 

He thought he made the appropriate choice. 

Evidently, he did not know the extent Sir Crocodile was going to take his punishment. 

“Do you like your gift, Highness?” the voice cracked through the receiver after several moments pause, “Or would you like to return it? Got one in a similar shade and style?” You giggled into the mouthpiece, prompting Sir Crocodile to chuckle his own sinister laughter. 

“I think I’ll keep it,” you purred, holding your eyes half-hooded as you reached your index finger down to swipe the collected drool from his chin. Doflamingo whimpered as you hooked your finger beneath his jaw, prompting him to fall forward and lean into your touch, “How long do I have it for?” you hovered your face above his, uttering a final question, “And in what condition should I intend to keep it in?”

“Your prerogative, Highness,” Sir Crocodile confessed, drawing up a large breath of smoke in his mouth and exhaling, “Use him, abuse him, torment him, torture him: he is yours to play with for the next fourty-eight hours. Happy birthday, Dear.” At the final utterance, Sir Crocodile clicked the end of the receiver off: leaving your snail to crackle its muffled voice shut. 

You hummed in deep thought, gazing down your nose at the tall man who, even on his knees, is nearly at eye height. Moving his face in your hands, you clicked your tongue as one would when examining an object intended for purchase. He whimpered further when your hands began exploring his torso as you circled his body. Your fingertips felt like lightning on his skin, igniting his expectations and triggering his wanton intrigue. 

“If I remove the gag and seastone cuffs,” you whisper into his ear, trailing your fingertips down his spine, “Will you behave yourself, pelican?” He nodded frantically, lulling his head back on his shoulders to bring himself closer to you. You hummed in thought, hooking your fingers over the material tugging the gag over his lips. 

“Feel better?” you asked him, maneuvering around his body to face him once again, “Less restricted and more of your repulsive self?” 

Taking a moment to roll his tongue in his mouth to regain the sensation, he felt himself relax into your touch as you loosened the cuffs. He moaned as your hands caressed his wrists to reignite the blood flow swelling down into his fingertips. 

“Always so kind,” Doflamingo commented with his signature smirk rising to his lips, “Do you ever grow tired of being so good all the time?” His eyes searched yours, still unsure of how you were going to respond to him on his knees. 

“Would you prefer if I were cruel to you?” you arched your brow up and lowered your tone, “Abused you for my own sick entertainment?”

“You could choke me, flog me, spit in my face - better yet, in my mouth,” Doflamingo listed, his pupils blown with lust beneath his pink glasses, “You could step on me, rake me over nails and hot coals, and all I would say is: ‘thank you for a scrap of your attention’. It is your day, after all.”

“Obsessive and excessive, Donquixote,” you scolded him, tugging at the red ribbon constricting his chest to have him rise to his feet and follow you into your manor, “Why must you always provoke me?” 

“Because I want you,” he whispered after you, a small whine in his voice as he followed closely behind you. His heavy feet trotted like a prized pony after you, allowing you to lead his body throughout the halls to your manor, “I want you so badly. I want all of your attention, all of your focus. I want to be at the very center of your universe, by any means necessary.”

Making eye contact with Arturo and Dinah, both of which shot you quizzical looks as Doflamingo pranced behind you attached to a line of red ribbon. You shot them both a look to forbid them from uttering a single phrase in questioning you, prompting them to hold up their hands in defense. 

“Should I bring you your tea, Miss?” Arturo called after you as you exited the frame of the door to the kitchen, “Perhaps a couple of glasses of wine?” 

“Perhaps later, Arturo. I’ll send for you if I need you,” you mentioned over your shoulder. 

As you looked behind you, there was a foreign expression painted over Donquixote Doflamingo’s face. His cheeks were tinted with a pink dust, his eyes glassy and eyelids half-closed and gazing at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. His signature smirk was replaced by a dumbstruck, goofy smile and his giddiness adamant in each of his pepped steps. 

Scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, you lead him into the master suite of your manor and force him to kneel in the center of the room. You took a seat on your plush armchair and gaze at him disinterestedly. He was all but vibrating in anticipation for your next movement. 

“Anything to say for yourself, Donquixote?” you purse your lips crossing your legs by hooking your right knee over your left and rocking your foot at him. He crawled forward on his knees, hypnotized beneath your cold stare. Eyes meeting with yours, his lips fell agape in a perfect circle as your foot met with his chest to halt his movement. 

Looking down at your heeled shoe, he bowed low enough to brush his forehead in a deep nuzzle against your shin, rocking his head to the side and attempting to become the very picture of innocence. You leant forwards, removing his glasses from his face and glaring into his expressive eyes with a wicked glint. 

“Go on, pet,” you spat down at him, “Unless you have nothing intelligible to offer me in conversation.” He pressed his lips against your shin, grazing his mouth up your legs and inadvertently slotting himself between your knees. 

“Happy Birthday,” he uttered against your skin, pressing a lengthy kiss against your right knee and integrating his entangled self between your legs further, “And I apologize for ruining the one prior.” Peppering kisses over your knee and up your thigh, his tongue flicked out over your flesh and swirled against you. 

Patience wearing thin, you redraw your right foot back over his chest and nudge him backwards to look into his eyes. Your lips curled into a snarl, eyes narrow and accusatory as you gnash your teeth at the tall blonde on his knees in front of you. 

“If you want my forgiveness, Donquixote Doflamingo,” you whisper in a warning tone, danger written over your features enough to cause the large man to shudder beneath your wicked stare, “Beg for it.”

Forty-Eight hours was more than enough time for Doflamingo to become a begging, pleading, whimpering mess beneath your skilled and expert hands. His mind fell blank, his body not experiencing the amount of sensory overload and sensory deprivation with a partner in encounters prior.

He was always the one in control, him only ever taking and taking to provide himself the pinnacle of pleasurable experiences. To be the one out of control, to simply have to take what he was given with his mind vacant of all thoughts aside from being subject to your desires.

The only things he continued to manage to befall from his lips were three phrases: “I’m sorry,” “thank you,” and “forgive me.” Just how you wanted him: complacent, dumbstruck, and all wrapped up in a pretty red ribbon.

#one piece #x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #one piece doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x f!reader #doflamingo suggestive content #sir crocodile #warlord!reader #op doffy #doffy #doffy x reader

[supercriminalbean]

Jets of panic.

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader. 

Summary: After a bad case Reader has a bad panic attack on the Jet and Spencer helps calm them down. 

Warning: Panic attacks, anxiety, mental health, bombings, death, blood, school bombings, slapping, crying, angst, fluff. (If I have forgotten anything let me know)

Words: 1.8k

A/N: I rewrote this/ edited this in 10 minutes and then got bored near the end so I'm sorry for the rough ending but I tried its been a long day. I wrote this last year before I knew how to write (spoiler I still can’t write) so yeah I would love some feedback, thank you enjoy.

As you sit there on the jet couch, staring off into space. Beginning to daydream as the team starts their debriefing of the last case. Your head is buzzing, with the events of the last few days, still trying to process everything you have been through. This case wasn't the worst that you have had, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. It's never easy when you watch someone you were meant to save die right in front of your eyes, and manage to get out of the situation, with only a concussion and small scratches.

~~~

You can’t help but let the bombing replay over and over again in your mind. The way you fell to the ground, unable to move for a good minute. Only able to open your eyes and watch as the student you were escorting out of the building lay lifeless in front of you, her eyes staring straight into your soul. Everytime you try to close your eyes, you just see her face staring back at you, a feeling of helplessness and guilt filling you up, knowing it should be you instead. The room is a blaze, you can feel the room starting to heat up, but still your body refuses to move. Your ears are ringing from the loud blast, your mind unable to process what is happening in the moment, until you feel a pair of hands on your body pulling you up. Your eyes shoot over landing on a pair of scared eyes belonging to Morgan. Who you know must have run inside the building, after the explosion. 

“Save her, we need to help her” Your words are a mess, as you try pulling away from him, your strength suddenly returning to your body.

“We need to go, there’s no time,” Morgan says firmly. Wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you along with him. Ignoring your pleas to go back and help the girl, his mind is more focused on the second bombing in the building. 

~~~

Your mind stays centred on replaying the scene over and over again, focusing on the girl's face. Never hearing Hotch call out to you repeatedly, the whole team now watching you worried. They all know you’re taking this case hard, going internal rather than speaking about your worries. Morgan, who's sitting beside you, places a hand lightly on your shoulder to get your attention. You jump quickly, so far away in your own mind, you didn’t even notice that your hand had gone up as you turned round to face him. Only realising when the smack echoes around the jet, a gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widens. Fear and panic spreading throughout your body.

“I'm so sorry” You squeak out, As you spirit off to the bathroom, before anyone could stop you. Locking the door as you fall to your knees.

~~~

Tears are flowing down your face, as you lean against the door. Heart racing away in your chest, as you struggle to breathe. You're fully aware that you're having a panic attack, but your team is right outside the door, so you know you have to do your best at staying quiet. Pulling your knees up to your chest, hiding your head between your knees, allowing the tears to roll down, as your mind continues to race. You didn't mean to hit Derek, you just got startled. One of your reactions is to spin around, but your hand was already up and apparently had different plans. Morgan must hate you now, why wouldn't he? You slapped him for no reason. You never wanted your team to see you like this. 

~~~

There's a gentle knock on the door, making you jump slightly, you don't respond. 

“Hey (Y/n) can you open the door please, we just want to make sure you're okay” JJ's soft voice comes through. Shaking your head as a response, deciding to stay verbally quiet. You weren't ready for everyone to see you like this.

“Come on (Y/n) please, just let us check on you okay?” JJ sighs softly, knocking again. The whole team became filled with worry, when they saw you run off to the bathroom, after slapping Morgan. Morgan was shocked when he realised you had slapped him, more concerned than anything else. He got up straight away, wanting to go after you. But Hotch stopped him, wanting to give you some space to calm down first.

~~~

You wipe the tears off your face, but somehow they seem to keep flowing. You hear more footsteps approaching as a harsher knock comes against the door.

“(Y/n) open the door now, I don't want to have to kick it down but I will” Morgan sighs, looking at JJ with concern. “Come on kid, you're worrying us” Morgan's voice calls out, gentle but harsher than JJ. You close your eyes tired, pulling at your hair feeling stressed out. You don't want people to see how broke you are. You get that they are worried about you, but you just can't deal with it, not right now. Hearing more rushes footsteps quickly approche, the talking outside, sounding like an argument beginning to break out. It soon goes quiet as you hear the footsteps walking away.

~~~

It stays quiet for a minute, before you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Hey (Y/n/n) its Spence, I've sent the others away, can you just unlock the door for me?” Spencer speaks softly, his voice calming you. Slowly you reach up unlocking the door, moving out of the way so he can open it. The door opens quietly, he slips inside before closing it behind him. He looks down, spotting you leaning against the wall. Staying silent, he joins you on the floor, breaking his heart as he sees you like this. Your face stained with tears, your hair a mess where you were yanking at it. 

“Are you alright?” He asks after a bit of silence, turning to watch you. Shaking your head faintly, your tears having finally stopped. Spencer places his hand carefully on your knee, rubbing a circular pattern. Gradually you lean your head on his shoulder, your heart still pounding away. While your mind now just feel empty and froggy. Feeling like you can’t even think straight even if your mind has just fallen quiet all of a sudden.

~~~

“Morgan okay?” You finally speak, your voice is rough due to the crying.

“He's fine, he's worried about you, everyone is” Reid speaks gently. His hand is still drawing patterns on your knees, the sensation helping calm you. 

“I didn't mean to slap him” You let out a heavy breath, closing your eyes. 

“We know, It was a good hit though” Spencer smiles at you gently, earning a small laugh.

“I don't want to go out there, not yet” 

“We don't have to, we can stay in here as long as you need” Smiling weakly as you listen to Reids breathing, matching his. Helping slow your racing heartbeat down to a normal pace. 

~~~

“Spence, can you tell me something, just anything please?” You ask faintly. Feeling tired and weak, keeping your eyes closed. Reid stays quiet for a bit, thinking.

“I was thinking about entering a chess tournament this weekend, but I think that would be a bit unfair seeing as I would easily beat everyone,” Reid laughs lightly, earning a small chuckle from you.

“You really think you can beat everyone, don't ya Dr Reid” Smirking slightly, opening your eyes. 

“Well I mean, I can easily calculate what moves they will make and be able to beat them in less than 5”

“That is why I don't like playing games with you” You laugh slightly, teasing him.

“It's not my fault you're easy to read (Y/n/n)” Reid teases you back smiling. Happy to see the colour returning back to your cheeks.

~~~

“Are you ready to go back out?” Reid asks, removing his hand on your knee, you nod. Ready to stand up, as your heart starts beating faster and your mind decides to start spinning once more. They are all going to ask you questions, staring at you. What if they are already talking about you, who knows what they could be saying. What if Hotch doesnt think you're fit for the job anymore, and fires you. You can’t lose this job, you don't want to lose your team, your family. Your breathing picks up speeds, finding it hard to breathe once more.

“Hey hey, (Y/N) look at me, look at me” Reid speaks gently, placing his hand on your knee again. You shake your head refusing to look at him, while your mind starts to spin. Spencer places his hand on your cheek softly, turning you to look at him. Tears slide down your face again.

“I'm sorry , I'm so sorry” Crying out, your head dropping, trying to get away from him. Reid doesn't let you, wrapping his arms around and pulling you into his body. Your face hides away in his chest, snuggling into his touch.

“Don't be sorry, it's alright, just listen to my breathing okay” His voice is calm but firm. He starts taking deeper, calming breaths. You start doing the same, keeping in time with him. Listening to his heart beat, closing your eyes, finding peace in his heartbeat. You stay there for a while in silence. Soon he starts humming your favourite song, earning a faint smile from you. Slowly moving your head out of his chest, resting against his shoulder. 

~~~

You two sit in the bathroom, for close to an hour. Once you are fully calm down, thanks to the help of listening to Spencer , talk about random facts. Earning smiles and small comments from you.

“Okay Spencer, I'm ready” Smiling weakly, he smiles back, getting up. He holds a hand out for you, taking it, pulling yourself up. You fix your hair before walking out.

~~~

It's been over an hour since you locked yourself in the bathroom. The team has been extremely concerned about you, but decided to give Reid and you some space. Rossi and JJ are still sitting in the same place talking and laughing, while Morgan and Emily have moved to sit at the back. Emily is reading her books and Morgan has his headphones on staring out the window. Hotch is doing his usual round of after case paperwork, on the table opposite them. Morgan looks up as you walk past, giving you a small smile. Reid takes your hand in his, leading you towards the couch. Taking a seat on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. Positioning yourself, so that you're half laying down, with your leg out on the couch. Spencer wraps his arm around you, holding you close, as your body begins to relax, feeling at home in his arms. Closing your eyes, knowing you need to deal with everything that has happened. But, you can do that when you land, as you let yourself drift off to sleep in Spencer's arms.

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader one shot #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds one shot

[foolish-spectre]

The Price of Freedom

Pairing: Astarion x Gender-Neutral Tav/Reader (Primary Focus is on Astarion)

Content Warnings: Murder and Canon-Typical Violence, Allusions to Physical, Emotional, and Verbal Abuse, Mental Breakdowns, Gore?, Massive Spoilers for the Pale Elf Quest in Baldur’s Gate 3, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 835

Characters: Astarion Ancunin (primarily), Cazador Szarr, Tav/Reader, brief mention of Astarion’s siblings

A/N: So I wrote this on a 14 hour plane ride, basically I wrote this in the last hour since my brain was mush for the other 13, I wanted to explore his side of things hence why it’s in second person, and I’m going to give a hot take, I’m glad you can’t hug Astarion after he kills Cazador, not because he doesn’t deserve it of course not, but because I don’t think he would like to be touched after such a painful but cathartic moment, he hates being touched, especially in a moment like this, there’s a time and a place for hugging in Astarion’s mind and in my opinion, this scene ain’t it, KEEP IN MIND I ALSO WANTED TO HUG ASTARION AFTER THIS SCENE SO I DONT BLAME ANYONE, but personally Astarion doesn’t want to be hugged rn, another thing I noticed is how Astarion is always drawn to your hands, it’s always the hands, I want to explore more of that in a separate fic or headcanons but yeah

Your grip upon your master’s knife tightened as you stared down at your “Father.” He likened his sired spawn to be family, and you were ready to give him all his owed dues as the eldest child.

It was funny to see him on his knees after so many years of shoving you beneath his feet. A wicked grin slithered onto your face as you yanked his long black hair aside to bare his neck.

The knife felt so light in your hand, how strange. One last thrust and it would be all over. One last thrust with the same knife that your pathetic master carved that damn infernal script into your back. It tethered your fate to him and now it would finally set you free. He would never hurt you again.

The first plunge felt cathartic yet it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. You started with his neck since it was his bite that doomed you. Then you thrust the blade repeatedly into his heart and ribs, he oh so loved to play with yours and even threatened to rip your’s out so you could see how pathetic it was. Just the thought of it made you dig deeper into his rib cage.

After the frenzied attack upon your master’s chest, you thrust the dagger upwards into his stomach. He was never satisfied with your hunts, always demanding more and more. Even wanting to consume you, practically making you believe that’s all you were. But you weren’t, you would never be-!

Just as you were about to violently flip him over and plunge into his back, you finally looked at his face. The sadistic smirk was wiped off replaced only with fear and disbelief, his sickening voice silenced, his eyes devoid of disgust… you were left with nothing.

Cazador Szarr was dead.

As the adrenaline wore off and you realized that your tormentor was finally dead, you slumped to your knees, dagger falling from your grip.

He was finally gone. He would never be able to hurt you again. And yet…

Why do the scars on your back feel fresh? Why did fear seep into your very bones? Why did you feel so miserable-

As sobs wracked your tired body, your siblings and friends surrounded you, unsure of what to do. Your lover approached you cautiously, not because they were afraid of you but because-

You didn’t really know and even though you’ve spent months together, you were still trying to get a hang of things.

They held out your arms to embrace you and in return you gave them a flinch. You hated the look they had on their face when you did, but… it feels so tainted, so fresh, so…

You hated it, you needed to get out of here, you needed to be in the sun again, you needed… you needed to feel alive again.

You stared down at your master’s corpse and held his staff for the first and last time. The rest was a blur.

Right now you were finally exiting this damn house, you would never have to see it again. You would finally be free, from this prison, from the people who tormented you, and from the crypt that reduced you to nothing but a feral animal.

As your weary feet got closer to closer to the entrance of Cazador’s palace, a part of you wanted to look back. To look back at your master’s dead body to make sure he was dead, gone for good.

… Why did you still think of him as your master, even when he’s gone? He was your master no longer, he would never have to control you again. You’re free of him.

Cazador means nothing to you now and you’ll make sure of that.

As you tried to shake your mind off of this, you walked side by side with your companions and lover. You stared at their face, even now they looked so beautiful.

Sure you didn’t care for them at first, but they were still with you… after all this. It would’ve been so easy to leave him behind for Cazador to consume him but they didn’t. They stayed and fought tooth and nail to save you, to help you achieve freedom.

You didn’t realize that you reached out for their hand until they looked at you, surprised. You were about to pull away until they gave you a gentle squeeze back.

Even though you were empty, even though you felt like the world had ended after all this… it felt reassuring. In a sense, your whole world did end. All those centuries of torment and the master that owned you was finally put to rest. All of it was in the past. Your lover’s hand reminded you that you did the right thing. That… you weren’t tied down to Cazador anymore.

You were finally free. And you didn’t want to lose this, you wouldn’t trade power for the one person who truly cared about you.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate #baldur’s gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x mc #my writing #astarion angst #angst

[kirisslut]

—I Can Treat You So Much Better w/ Eijirou Kirishima

—Cw: bestfriend!kirishima, cheating, phone sex, facetime sex, masturbation, toxic!partner, UNEDITED

—Summary: your partnet is toxic and your best friend, Eiji, thinks you deserve a lot better

—Author's Note: I got out of a toxic relationship roughly 2 monthes ago and I’ve unintentionally made it a new personality trait and I think about it everyday and it came to my mind while thinking of smut ideas and someone please help me I don’t want to think about that- anyway enjoy me self projecting to the fucking extreme :)) Also I tried to make this gender netural but reader is afab and i wrote it with my ex in mind so if I accidentally called the ex a boyfriend at some point I apologize- ALSO I HAVENT WRITTEN IN FOREVER SO SORRY IF THE WRITING IS BAD

—Please keep in mind that you must be 15+ to read this piece, thank you <3

Eijirou hated this, he hated everything about it. Eijirou has had feelings for you for a couple years now, ever since middle school. He hasn’t had to see you with very many partners before, there were a couple of few month relationships with people that he didn’t particularly like but they treated you well so he wasn’t too bent out of shape over it. But this was by far his least favorite relationship of yours. You had been dating this person for about six months now and he hated everything about them. First off, he thought you were way too pretty to be with this person. In his eyes, they were a one and you were an eleven. Secondly, they treated you horribly. They said mean stuff to you, upset you, made everything about them, didn’t respect your consent, and so much more. And on top of that, they were horrible in bed. They made the most bold and most wrong movements and refused to educate theirself on your body and what you enjoyed. On top of that, there was never any aftercare whatsoever.

And it pissed Eijirou off. You were perfect to him, how come you gave this person a chance and not him and let them treat you horribly? Well one night, he had enough, Eijirou finally snapped. This was the fourth time that week that you’d texted him, saying some along the lines of “i was hanging out w/ p/n and they really upset me because…”. And that was the last straw for him, he was gonna remind you of your worth. 

Y/n: Eiji, they did it again. We were making out and it was kinda going further and they did something wrong and it hurt so I asked them to stop and they asked if I was just turned on too much-

Eiji: I’m sorry sweetheart, your partner sucks :( why don’t you facetime me?

Not even five seconds later a call was coming through and he answered it, smiling at the sight of your face.

“Hi, pretty, how’re you?” He asked, running a hand through his hair. You gave a small smile in return.

“Hi Eiji, not great.” You were laying in bed, one hand holding up your phone while you laid your head down on your arm, “I just wish they’d take the time to figure out what I like…y’know?”

“I know, love, I’m sorry they’re like that. You deserve a lot better than that, you’re gorgeous. Anyone who doesn’t wanna treat you right in bed is a total idiot.”

Your cheeks heated up a bit and you smiled at Eijirou, “Thanks, Eiji.” Eijirou was sitting up, his phone propped up on his desk, with a controller in his hands, you assumed he was playing a video game. He was wearing a tight gray shirt, it perfectly outlined his pecs and showed off how big his shoulders were. You started unintentionally staring, and who could blame you? Eijirou was hot. Even you, as his totally platonic, never gonna be anything more, best friend could see that. 

“Sweetheart? Are you even listening to me?” Eijirou asked, looking straight at you. Your cheeks heated up more and you looked away.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just spaced out,” you replied.

“What were you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Your next reply took a moment, you were scared to say it. This was wrong, everything about this was wrong. You were facetiming your best friend who calls you every pet name under the sun, to complain about your boyfriend, and on top of that you were thinking about how hot he was. But you were desperate.

“..you.”

Eijirou paused, making eye contact with you, “What about me, pretty?”

“...I was looking at your chest…and thinking about how you’d treat me so much better than p/n.”

The smirk that spread across his face killed you. You might as well go get a new name and move to a completely new country at this point, because you were so embarrassed. 

“Oh, you know I would, sweetheart. I bet you don’t even think about them when you two are getting into it, bet you just thinking about me, huh?” And he wasn’t exactly wrong. Sometimes you found your mind drifting to Eijirou when you were getting intimate with p/n. You didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.

You nodded, “You’re just so pretty, Eiji, and p/n can’t make me cum…bet you could. You have pretty hands..and I’ve seen the way your fingers move on your controller.” You started subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to relieve the feeling forming between your legs.

“I definitely could, pretty. I’d eat you out so good if I could, bet you taste amazing,” Eijirou says, setting down his controller and turning his full attention to you, “Why don’t you take off your shirt, sweetheart? I wanna see what I would have to work with.”

This, you hesitated on, more so than the other stuff. Talking was just one thing, but to show Eijirou your body would be straight up cheating, absolutely no excuses.

“Well, I don’t know..I don’t wanna cheat on p/n.., I’m just upset at him right now.”

“Come on, sweetheart, when does he ever care about your feelings? You deserve so much better than that. Just this one time, honey, I wanna show you what you could have. And I wanna see what that loser is failing to make feel good. They’re so stupid, I bet you’re super sensitive, I could make you feel so good.”

Eijirou’s sweet sweet words got to your head and soon enough you were propping your phone up, sitting on your knees, legs spread a little with nothing but an oversized shirt and short shorts on. The shorts hugged your thighs and pussy. Eijirou could see the outline and you swear he whispered “fuck” at a couple points. Slowly, you took your shirt off and Eijirou’s eyes widened. No bra.

It made sense, you were home and nobody wants to wear a bra when relaxing in their own home, but he was just a little startled. He didn’t mind though, of course. A hand drifted down to his sweatpants, palming his half-hard cock through the fabric.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Those are the best tits I’ve ever seen, you wanna show me some more? I bet your pussy is just as pretty.”

“Mm, can I see you first, Ei? Please? Just wanna see your abs please,” you beg and Eijirou smirks a little, taking off his shirt. He was so perfect, perfectly tanned skin that was so smooth, and his muscles were gorgeous. You bit your lip, looking at his perfect body.

“Now take off your shorts, sweetheart, I wanna see,” Eijirou said, and you happily obliged. You slipped your shorts and panties off, spreading your legs a little more, “Fuck, pretty, you’re soaked. Do you have any toys there with you? I bet you’re one of those little whores who needs to play with their pussy every night before they go to sleep.”

Your cheeks heat up, “Y-yeah, I have toys…do you want me to use some..?”

“Yes, pretty, it’s no replacement for my cock or my tongue, but it’ll have to do. After all, we’re just testing this out, right? No cheating.”

You nod, “Mhm, not cheating. Just testing it out.”

“Good girl.” You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out a little box, showing Eijirou the contents on the call.

“What should I use, Ei?”

“How about you use that wand vibrator and that pink dildo? I think that’d look cute stuffed in your pussy,” Eijirou says, returning to palming himself. He was so hard for you, you were just too hot. You removed the toys from the box, putting it back and resuming your original position.

Suddenly, you were shy, you’d never done this over the phone before. You took a moment, and Eijirou didn’t rush you and eventually you mumbled, “Can I see your cock first?”

Eijirou smiled, “Of course you can, sweetheart.” He pulled his sweatpants and underwear down a little and then you saw it, your eyes widening a bit. Eijirou was huge, atleast seven inches. It was so pretty, p/n was nowhere near that size, nor was it as pretty or well kept as Eijirou’s. Eijirou ran a hand up his length, watching you, “This is all for you, sweetheart, you’re so pretty. It gets me all hard.”

“..you’re hot too, gets me all wet..”

“How about you get something in that pussy then, sweetheart? Show me how you get off after your shitty partner fails to make you cum.”

You don’t hesitate anymore before sinking down onto your dildo, not bothering with the vibrator quite yet. Eijirou kept pumping his length, watching the way your pussy swallows your toy up. After adjusting, you started bouncing on your dildo, making yourself feel good. Strings of moans left your lips, getting off on the fact that your best friend was watching you pleasure yourself. 

“Look at you go, sweetheart, you’re just so horny, huh? Not even thinking about p/n anymore, just thinking about cumming and my fat cock.”

“Fuck- yes Ei, ‘m thinking about your cock in my pussy, it’d stretch me out so so so good, d-don’t think I could take it,” you said as you reached for your vibrator, turning it on and pressing it to your clit. Eijirou stroked himself faster.

“Oh, you definitely could, pretty, I know you’d take it so good. Can already picture you creaming all over it. Shit- I’m getting close, cum with me.”

And that you did, you came around the dildo with no thoughts in your mind other than Eijirou and your orgasm. You slowly stopped, panting, and your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, at the top of the screen there was a singular notification.

My Love <3 : hey u busy?

“Mmm, that was so hot, sweetheart. Did you enjoy that?”

Y/n: yeah abt to go to bed, gn ily

“Yeah, Ei, of course I did…why don’t you come over?”

#jjs.going.to.hell #kirishima smut #eijirou kirishima #eijirou kirishima smut #bnha smut #bnha #mha smut #mha #eijirou smut #eijirou kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha eijirou #kirishima eijirou #kiri smut #kirishima x reader smut #eijirou kirishima x reader smut

[maarriiii]

Stay With Me | Draco Malfoy

A/N: This is going to be a part of 300 followers celebration—I’ll make a post about that later. Recently, got back into my HP phase after finally finishing the Deathly Hallows. I’m really proud of this one yall. Hope you guys enjoy!!!

Summary: On the train ride to Hogwarts, Draco shares a compartment with you.

Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy x gender neutral!reader

Warning(s): Mentions of hate

my masterlist :))

~~

You stomped through the train, ignoring weird looks thrown at you by fellow students and the cry of your name that fell from a friend's mouth. You were catching up with one another, sharing excitement about returning to Hogwarts when the conversation took a detour to exchanging stories about home. Immediately, your mood turned sour when they all talked about their family and the oh-so-lovely trips they took. It only reminded you of your situation with your parents and so you muttered a weak excuse to your friends and left to find an empty compartment in the efforts to seclude yourself and hopefully raise your mood with a bit of silence.

But, as you walked further down the train, your mood didn't show any signs of getting better and instead you grew annoyed and frustrated. As you neared the last few compartments available for students in the train, you silently hoped that Merlin would hear your prayers and grant you what you wanted. Though, as the last compartment finally comes to your view, you didn't know if the great wizard was incredibly kind or terribly cruel.

Inside the compartment was only one person but it wasn't just any person. With his slicked back platinum blonde hair and an all black, no doubt expensive, attire just about anyone could guess that it was the one and only, Draco Malfoy. With his head turned to the window, looking at the green field that was passing by, you thought you could walk away unnoticed, but of course, you somehow tripped on your own feet and before it was too late, you grasped at both side of the train which produced quite a bit of noise.

Inside, Draco's body shook in surprise and instinctively, he reached inside his coat for his wand and aimed it at his supposed attacker, wide eyes like a madman. When he realized it was only you, his expression turned to disdain and his wand returned to its previous place. Draco stood up from his seat and although your mind was screaming at you to move, you stuck to your place and watched him slide opened the compartment door.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nothing. I was just walking. My legs were getting stiff."

He scoffed. "You're a terrible liar. Perhaps you were getting tired of that group of people you called 'friends'"

You narrowed your eyes at him, offended by his assumption. "Are you sure you're not talking about yourself, Malfoy? I don't see Crabbe and Goyle anywhere near you, nor Blaise."

You had a weird relationship with Draco Malfoy—if you could even call it that. As the son of one of the most distuingished pureblood and anti-muggle family, one would never think that he would fraternize himself with you, a Halfblood. But, it wasn't until your fourth year, when the Triwizard tournament was held in Hogwarts, that you and Draco really starts noticing each other. It wasn't intentional, in fact, it was even a little bit forced. The two of you were paired together in Astronomy class for an assignment that lasted for the entirety of the term. Both you and Draco voiced your disagreement in the pairing very loudly but when the professor threatened to take house points from each of you, the two of you begrudgingly kept quiet—though it didn't stop Draco from muttering under his breath about his disdain of being paired with the likes of you and how his father is going to hear about this.

After many fights, arguments, threats and spells casted at each other, you and Draco finally put your differences aside and decided to focus on the assignment at once. The two of you would try to meet up at the Astronomy tower, straight to the point in the hopes of spending less time with each other. The longer you spend time with him though, the more you start to notice things about him. Despite his reputation as a notorious bully, Draco Malfoy was well versed in his studies—spotting constellations far easier than you and you would also catch him with his nose in books that are often times more advanced whilst waiting for you. Sometimes you wonder if he wasn't such a Muggle hater then you would probably like to befriend him.

And you did, in a way. You would sometimes bring treats to your meetings: candies, chocolate frogs, whatever you can get your hands on. You noticed he would always choose the same thing from your basket and you made a mental note to have that if you can—though, you stop asking why you even bother doing so. It seemed that he noticed your subtle act of kindness because one night he said something to you that you thought would never hear coming from him, a thank you. Ever since, you and Draco become acquainted with each other in secret, neither friends or enemies.

"Well, are you just going to stand there and trip over your own feet again?" Draco suddenly asked, already back in his seat.

You didn't know if he was trying to invite you in or trying to get you to leave. It was difficult to guess with him.

"Do you want to come in or not?" He asked again.

"Do you want me too?"

It was a bold question to ask, but it seemed it was the right one to ask.

Draco stiffened, his back straight, though his face was no longer facing you and instead to the window. When he spoke, his voice wasn't as firm and confident as before. It lacked hostility, and was almost small and quiet.

"I don't mind if you do."

You looked to your surrounding, making sure there was no one else around before joining Draco inside. You slid the door close and hesitantly, sat across from him, your knees almost grazing each other. If you were to guess, you would say Draco was tense, almost nervous even, though you wonder why. You've been in close proximity before, countless nights spent underneath the stars at the Astronomy tower—though, in reality, it wasn't as romantic as it sounded. Perhaps he was cautious, scared that a student would find them together and spread rumors about him with a Halfblood together, alone, at the furthest compartment in the train. But, then, you remembered something that you read on the Daily Prophet.

"I'm sorry about your father, Draco."

He was as stiff as a stone now. "Are you? I'm sure you Muggles are glad that my Death Eater father is in Azkaban."

A part of you wanted to say yes, but you surpressed that feeling. "He's still your father, Draco. I'm allowed to express compassion regardless of your father's allegiance."

He turned to you, eyes angry. "I don't need your compassion! Neither does my father! You're... you're a—"

"I'm a what, Draco? A dirty Mudblood? A lowly being compared to you Purebloods? Is that what you're going to say?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "Can't say I haven't heard that before."

It seemed like you struck a nerve. Draco's shoulder slumped, his hands on top of his thigh was no longer fisted. He looked at you, a soft expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," He mumbled.

"It's alright," You muttered.

The air was uncomfortable around you. It was almost suffocating, but neither of you made a move to leave. You secretly sneak a glance to him out of the corner of your eyes. Somehow he looked older than he was last year, a lot older, and his clothes only strenghten his matureness. But, despite that, he was still a teenager, a child, burdened by the expectation of his parents, and with the wake of You-Know-Who, you couldn't even imagine how he was handling it all, maybe he wasn't.

You reached inside your pocket where a lone Chocolate Frog reside. It wouldn't be his first choice of sweets but you figure it was better than nothing. Wordlessly, you threw it at him and it landed on his lap. He frowned at the candy, then at you, wondering why you offered him another act of kindness when he just yelled at you only a few minutes prior. You merely shrugged, looking at his light grey eyes.

"Don't want it to go to waste."

Draco twirled the pentagon shaped box in his hands, staring at it with an unrecognizable look that you couldn't decipher. Not long after, he spoke, breaking the silence.

"I watched you once. In our fourth year, after we got paired together. I was passing down the corridor and heard the choir practicing for when the Durmstrang and the Beauxbatons arrive. I saw you singing. You were in the middle row. You were smiling really wide and you looked really happy."

Draco carried on, still twirling the Chocolate Frog in his fingers.

"I also wanted to ask you to the Yule Ball, but I was a coward. I cared too much about what other people would say, my father and mother. So, instead, I asked Pansy Parkinson despite how insuferable she was." He shook his head at the thought of his date, then he took a deep breath. "I couldn't keep my eyes away from you for the entire night. I just—i just stared at you from afar."

"Draco, I—"

He interrupted you. "I enjoy our time together. I enjoy your company. Even though, I wasn't the most kindest person, for whatever reason, you still chose to tolerate me. It might sound like a lie or a cliche but with you, i'm at ease with myself. I don't have to worry about my parents' expectation or anything else. I could just be myself."

"Why are you telling me all of these now?" You asked, voice barely a whisper.

Draco paused. He seemed to be thinking of the right words to say.

"I just thought you should know." In case something terrible happened to him and his parents.

Your heart was beating inside your chest. You didn't have the faintest of clue on how to respond to his revelation, his truth. You were overwhelmed by it all. For the past two years, this was how he felt towards you. You had so much you wanted to say but at the same time, nothing would come out of your lips. You and Draco just stared at each other, tension held high, and him waiting for you to utter even a single word.

You uncrossed your arms, and leaned forward. Your barely touching knees was now interlocking with Draco's—the closest you have been with each other. You took the chocolate he had no intention of eating from his slender fingers and set it aside, replacing it with your own fingers. It was a sight you never thought would see, yours and Draco's finger intertwined. It just seemed crazy, impossible, ludicrous even to be thinking that this could happened between you. 

He no longer dare to gaze into you eyes, instead he avert his gaze to both of your hands. Like you, he was also leaning forward and with his free hand, he held your tangled hands, brushing his fingers against your knuckles before holding it tight and leaning his forehead on your hands, fearing you would disappear into thin air. This could probably be his only and last opportunity to be with you. He didn't how his future would laid out, so he was going to savor this moment for as long as he could.

You never seen him this vulnerable before and you could only wonder what has happened in his life to make him act this way. It was like he was trying to keep you there by the way he was squeezing your hand.

"Draco." You called his name, gentler than ever. "Draco, please look at me."

He slowly lifted his head, his grey eyes piercing into yours. Your heart broke at the sight of him, sad and broken.

"Draco, I'm here if you need me. Whatever it is you're going through, call me and I'm there."

He shook his head, fearful. "No, no, you can't. I can't. I won't let you."

"Draco, please—"

"I can't risk you too. My parents, they—not you too. They can't know about you."

"I want to help you. Merlin's beard, Draco, you're suffering. Let me help you. Maybe we can find a way for you and your family, or someone that can help."

"If you really want to help, then just stay here." He looked at you with such intensity, practically begging. "Stay here with me until we get to Hogwarts."

You unclasped your hand and for a moment, Draco feared you would say no and leave him. Instead, he felt your hand cupping his jaw. At first, he stiffened at the touch but then he leaned into your hand, savouring the feel of your fingers caressing his cheek.

"Alright." You nodded. "I'll stay with you, Draco."

Sometime during the train ride, you moved to sit beside Draco. Both of your hands practically glued together, neither of you wanting to let go. You leaned your head on his shoulder and Draco's on top of yours. The feeling of your body next to his was almost soothing, calming down the fear and anxiousness that resided in him but with every distance the train covered, he began to dread the moment where he would have to leave you and perform the task that was given to him. But until then, Draco thought, his mind would only focus on you and you alone.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n

[swoonbots]

PLEASE a wally x gender neutral!reader inspired on the song “sex with a ghost” that you suggested, it have so much potential! But pls NO nsfw, partycoffin don’t like it and we must respect his wishes

Have a lovely day/night <3

Wally: Sex With A Ghost

CW: Suggestive, Suicidal Thoughts and Actions

Summary: Wally is your imaginary friend who vanished one day, but now, he's returned.

---

You weren't sure when it started, but you had started seeing your imaginary friend again. It had been years since that fateful day, the day where your mother had scared him away.

She would at least come to apologize for it. 's better than what most parents do, you had thought to yourself.

But now, he was here. Roughed up and dirtied but he was here.

In your darkest hour, he was here.

Before he could even speak, you ran to his side, holding his small, doll like body close to your frame. You feverishly kissed his forehead and pressed his head against your chest.

"... Did you miss me...? Ha.. Ha... That's good.. I missed you too..." The puppet went limp in your arms.

'You shouldn't be able to touch him, this can't be real,' the rational part of your brain says, but you couldn't care less. You finally had something, no, someone by your side.

You couldn't be happier.

Things were a lot different now. Wally had always been an adult, he was mature and caring: picking up where your parents had slacked off.

But now you were an adult too, now you towered over him instead. It was all so exciting.

Normal people couldn't touch their imaginary friends, but you weren't normal. You were exceptional.

"Perhaps that was why no one wanted to befriend you," Wally would ponder out loud, "You might seem unattainable."

Of course, that's a nicer way of saying, 'it's because you're a freak.' You didn't wanna say that to him though. You could never be mean to that face.

As an adult, your feelings about him changed. Strengthened by your loneliness, you found yourself getting bolder. Kissing him in places you hadn't before.. like on the lips.

Deeper and deeper. You couldn't get enough. He was everything to you. As you grew desperate, he became addicted. Addicted to your touch.

You were so, so warm. He loved sitting in your lap like some sort of show poodle. He loved the warmth that would radiate from your stomach to his back.

He loved your lingering hands, he loved how you could carry him like it was nothing.

He wanted nothing more than to share you with his friends, but he couldn't.

Because he wasn't truly there.

He weighed nothing because he was nothing. Nothing more than a figment of your imagination and love.

You hated it here, you wanted nothing but to go to his world. He spoke so highly of it, and you wanted nothing more than to get away from the grey world that surrounded you.

"Maybe you need to be nothing, like me?" Wally would float through the wall behind you, speaking as you took out your cooking utensils to prepare your meal.

"What? Like a ghost?" You would laugh before freezing.

...

Would that work?

"It could. It's like when you stab your pizza so I can have one too," Wally amused the thought a little further, his hands ghost yours as it gripped the kitchen knife, "But.. if it goes wrong then-"

"Let's do it."

"What...?"

"I wanna try. Anything would be better than here," your voice shook, your breathing accelerated.

Sweaty hands rose the knife to your throat. Black eyes watched with fear and... Hope.

"I can't do it alone. Please.."

Wally nodded, his hands laid up on your own. And they pushed.

Pain shot through your throat, red blood sprayed out like a geyser. The knife clattered against the tile. You slip in your own blood and fall.

.

..

...

Your head doesn't hit the kitchen tile though. Instead, it rests on a plush lap.

"...Wally..?"

---

A/N: No worries! I don't even write NSFW content (or well, not in the porn way lol.) Also, if this goes too far- PLEASE let me know. I struggle a lot with telling what's appropriate and what's not.

#welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #swoonbots drabbles

[writerblue275]

The One That Could Break My Heart (Chapter 1)

Inspiration: "Houdini" and “Break My Heart” - Dua Lipa and “Got Me Started” - Troye Sivan

Champion: Ezreal (Pilty/Explorer/FWB!Ez)

Summary: Your best friend (with benefits) has finally returned from his two months abroad, and the two of you pick up like nothing has changed. Or have they? (Gaaaah I’m no good at summaries, either creative or academic lmao.)

Genre: Song-inspired fic

Category: Fluff and SMUT-ish (18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Gender: Reader is ok with traditionally “fem” clothing like lingerie. Future parts (since I’ll be honest I’ve written like the whole story already) lean more towards reader comfortable with using she/her pronouns/are afab.

TW: Adult themes and suggestive stuff. Again, this is friends with benefits here, y’all. Swearing (no shock).

IMPORTANT CONTEXT: If you haven’t already, pause and go read my FWB!EZ headcanon (HERE). This story is set in the same “universe” as that and the headcanon provides important background info and context. It is easier to link that post than explain everything again in this story. Also, it’s likely that I’m taller than Ez, but you know what, sometimes I want to feel tiny so character is shorter than Ez in this one.

^ His smirk/nod to Kai’Sa was literally what got the wheels turning on this whole headcanon/AU in the first place. Look at him. Look at this cocky fucker. I love him lmao.

Key:

“Houdini” lyrics in blue

“Break My Heart” lyrics in orange

“Got Me Started” lyrics in purple

-“Center of attention, you know you can get whatever you want from me; whenever you want it baby.”

You sigh as you look down at the note in your hands, hating how your body has an almost Pavlovian response to this specific penmanship. Your heart speeds up and cheeks heat as you read through the words. The note on top of the three clothing boxes is unsigned, but that doesn't matter. You could recognize the slightly messy handwriting half-asleep.

"Come over later? Have the place to myself the next few days since the professor is away for a conference. Missed you. Here are some gifts to make up for my absence. Wear the green and bring the others."

"Looks like he's back...I wonder for how long this time," you muse to yourself as you contemplate the strange change in routine. It isn’t even the gifts. The appearance of a note and luxury clothing boxes are familiar, arriving like a calling card every time your best friend Ezreal returns from an expedition across the continent. The surprise is the change in location. Usually Ez just comes over to your apartment the moment he drops his things off at home, showers, and changes. He very rarely invites anyone over to the home he shares with his uncle when he is in town.

You quickly scribble off a response and send it off to be delivered to him.

"Of course, but next time, give me some more advanced notice, will you? Believe it or not, I can't just hop into the shower and be ready to go like you can. So, I hope you’re prepared to appreciate the effort. You're buying food, especially if you expect me to deal with your stamina for more than the weekend, Indiana Jones. Thank you for the beautiful gifts. I missed you too, E. See you at 7."

After sending off the note, you quickly flip through the carefully stacked clothing boxes, giggling softly and shaking your head as you confirm he, once again, sent you three expensive, beautiful, and lacy sets of lingerie, one in rich purple, one in black, and one in emerald green. You can't help but reminisce on the now-funny moment when he asked for your permission to buy things like this for you when you two first started your arrangement a year and a half ago. You smile as you remember his laugh at your confused expression. You had initially refused, saying you didn't expect gifts like that from him. It wasn't until he explained the upsides for himself that you finally realized it was beneficial to both parties. Hey…the man had good taste, that could not be denied. You stand lost in thought for a while as you finger the expensive green lace of the set he referenced in his note.

The sound of your mail flap draws you back to reality and signals the delivery of Ez's reply. Quickly, you go over and open the note, unable to hold back a laugh and an eyeroll at his response.

"But that would take away your surprise of being graced with my incredible presence again! As for food, I figured that would be a stipulation. It's on me. Also, when have I not properly appreciated your efforts? I take offense at the insinuation considering I actively contribute to your efforts through said gifts. Don't keep me waiting too long, princess..."

That fucking nickname...he knows damn well what it does to you. It started when you both were much younger, just innocent and teasing banter between childhood friends and he decided that was your nickname. Of course now, many years later, the teasing connotation still exists, but the innocence is largely gone. Between that and the other pet name he calls you when you’re alone together, “baby,” he knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. Then again you can’t really complain since you also want the same thing.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur as you pack and prepare for your time away, putting on just a little makeup and dressing in a skirt and a white blouse that is very barely see through, enough for the green lace underneath to peek through, but easy enough to cover with your nice coat. Once you slip a pair of flats on, you make the shortish walk to the house in the lovely fall weather Piltover is currently having.

-"He’s got the personality, not even gravity could ever hold him down."

Soon enough you find yourself approaching the back door of the grand home. You're early, but you can't imagine Ez would mind much, especially if he’s alone. Curiously, you look up to his bedroom window, which also faces the alley. Sure enough, there he is, watching you with a massive grin. He even blows you an exaggerated kiss. Rolling your eyes, you flip him off, unable to keep from beaming as his loud laughter filters down to you through the window. It is a sound you’d missed desperately these past two months while he was gone. Knocking your familiar pattern, you wait patiently for him to get the door.

It doesn’t take long for him to answer. As soon as the door opens, his smug voice sounds near your ear as he leans forward. “That eager to see me, princess? You’re an hour early…”

Your heart speeds up but you just smirk and turn your head so your lips are very barely separated from his. “I could ask the same of you, Ezreal…seems like you’ve been waiting at your window for quite a while, and I wasn’t even supposed to arrive for another hour…not to mention the speed with which you opened the door. Miss me that much, Indiana Jones?” you murmur. You can’t help the satisfaction you feel as you see his pupils dilate a little bit as he’s affected by your words and how close you are.

The moment extends for a second longer with you two just smirking at each other before he takes your duffel bag, drops it to the ground, and throws his arms around you, burying his face against your neck.

“You know I did,” he says, his words muffled against you as he holds onto you tightly.

“I missed you too, Ez. Welcome home. I’m really glad you’re back,” you murmur as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso and bury your face against his shoulder. Eventually after a minute of just hugging, the two of you finally step back and smile at each other.

“I want to hear about your adventures, but maybe not all the ways you nearly died,” you muse, then laugh at how utterly ridiculous that sounds.

His grin just widens. “Well fortunately or unfortunately for you, I was invited to a dinner thrown by one of the council tomorrow night and since you’re my go-to plus-one, you’ll get to hear all about it, but that also include the not-so-pretty details. You know that’s all the society vultures want to hear about,” he says, grabbing your bag, leading you inside the beautiful home, and allowing you time to remove your shoes and hang up your coat.

-“I come and I go. Prove you got the right to please me.”

“So that’s why you invited me here instead of coming over,” you tease. “You didn’t want to carry a garment bag with a dress and shoes. Tsk tsk Ezreal you’re getting laz-eep!” Your teasing is cut short as he easily sweeps you into a bridal carry and moves up the stairs with you to get to his room.

His smirk is playful as he glances down at you and murmurs, his voice getting a little husky, “Careful, princess…you sure you want to finish that sentence? That’s a strong accusation. You of all people should know I’m not lazy. What did you call my stamina the night I got back last time? “Legendary,” was it? I seem to remember you throwing out that particular word after our events of that evening.”

You grin for a moment as he takes the bait of your trap to tease him, reaching up to play with his soft golden hair. That night had been absolutely mind-blowing, and he wasn’t wrong. You had used “legendary” to describe his stamina because that’s what it was. But, you’re not done riling him up yet, knowing you’re playing a deliciously dangerous game. “That night? Ez that was three months ago! How do I know the wait was worth it since you left? A lot might have changed in the two months you’ve been gone,” you remark with mock sincerity, internally cheering and grinning as he lets out a soft growl and moves a little faster down the hall to get to his room.

Once he’s inside and the door is closed, he immediately sets your duffle bag down before turning his focus to you. The second your feet touch the plush carpet he has you backed up against the door, his arms around your waist pulling you roughly against him, his nose brushing against your nose, and his lips frustratingly close to yours. He’s so close you can see just how many beautiful shades of blue the irises of his eyes have as they surround his slightly blown out pupils. He leans forward and ever-so-lightly brushes his lips against yours, barely making any contact at all before pulling back. As you let out a soft whine and chase his lips, he smirks widely and murmurs, “What’s wrong, (Y/N)? I thought you said a lot might have changed in two months, but it seems to me you’re just as impatient as ever. Not only that, but it seems like you still want me just as much. Am I correct?”

This clever man. He’s managed to completely flip the situation, instead winding you up like a damn toy. You can’t help but let out an exasperated giggle and a breathless “Fuck you, Ez,” before tangling your arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily. You playfully nibble his lower lip as he chuckles against yours, his hands going on a journey to reacquaint themselves with your body. Just like his initial kiss though, his touch is purposefully light in order to work you up even more.

“Ezreal, I swear to fucking God if you don’t touch me like you mean it I’ll never forgive you,” you threaten as your lips move down and nip his neck. You try to imbue your threat with at least a little sharpness, but there’s a thread of neediness that really undermines your intent so you decide to switch tactics. “Especially after I went through all this effort to look so pretty for you.” You give him a mock pout as your arms leave his neck and your hands start working on your blouse buttons, immediately drawing his eyes downward.

You only undo a couple buttons, enough for him to see just a little emerald green lace peek out before your lips move back to his neck. “Good choice with the green, by the way. You remember my favorite color after all this time,” you teasingly purr against him, knowing damn well he has one of the best memories of anyone you’ve ever met. “Finish ‘unwrapping me,’” you throw his own words from previous encounters back at him, “then I can thank you for the beautiful presents and you can show me how much you missed me, what do you think?”

You immediately feel immense satisfaction as he lets out a whisper soft “Holy fuck (y/n)…” under his breath as a reaction to your words, almost like he just can’t help it. As playful as he is, your best friend prides himself on his ability to remain level-headed at almost all times. As he says often, he’d have died many times without it. Being one of the few who can cause Ezreal’s control to slip, especially for this reason, is a point of major pride for you. Even the man himself gives you credit for your abilities to bring him to his knees, literally and figuratively, an honor considering his ego.

He kisses you deeply again before murmuring against your lips, “Legs up around me, baby. Got it? We’re going on a field trip across the room.” He presses himself even closer against you as he cups his hands under your ass to keep you stable.

You instantly obey him, giggling softly in delight as his hands squeeze you. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as you wrap your legs around his hips, trusting him to support you.

You feel and hear his soft and affectionate chuckle close to your ear as you happily nuzzle his cheek while he carries you. “That’s it, princess…look at you, so good for me…I missed you so much, baby.”

You let out a noise of pleasure as his hands continue to squeeze and knead you. “F-fuck I missed this…I missed you so much, Ez,” you murmur.

Ezreal sits on the edge of his massive bed, keeping you in his lap as he gently makes you look at him so he can kiss you again. His lips are hungry, his hands tangle in your hair, and you swear you lose all sense of time when he kisses you like that.

Eventually he pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, his heavy breathing mixing with your own. “Stand between my legs, princess. Let me undress you,” he very gently commands.

You eagerly scramble off his lap and do as he asks, moving your hands back up to your shirt to help him unbutton it.

“Baby no….I want to do it,” Ezreal murmurs softly, gently grabbing your hands and giving them a squeeze as he looks up at you with a soft smile. “You may touch me, but let me undress you,” his order is tender, his voice filled with affection, but it is still an order nonetheless.

“S-sorry,” you softy respond and blush as you quickly put your hands together behind your back, wanting to be good for him.

“It’s alright, baby…I appreciate how eager you are. It shows me how much you missed me,” he soothes as he reaches up and gently cups your cheek, allowing you time to close your eyes and lean happily into his warm touch. After a moment or two, he gently removes his hand and starts on your shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of your skirt and beginning to work on the buttons. It doesn’t take him long to have your shirt open in front, revealing more of the beautiful and intricate emerald green lace that was hiding underneath.

You love how dark his eyes turn as he takes you in. “As I said, Indiana Jones, excellent choice with the green. I adore it,” you remark teasingly as he lets out a soft growl of appreciation.

“Damn, I think I’ve really outdone myself,” Ezreal murmurs, almost more to himself than to you. He looks up at you as he gently starts to work on your skirt. “You look absolutely incredible, princess. I know you like the color, but do you like the style? Is it comfortable? Do you feel as gorgeous as you look, baby?” He asks, his questions filled with a genuine curiosity that makes you smile.

You nod, setting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself as you kick your skirt away once he has it down your legs. “It’s very comfortable and I feel so beautiful in this, Ez. You know my style very well at this point, so trust me when I say I’m never concerned I won’t like something you get me,” you confirm, moving your hand on his shoulder to gently play with his hair. You love the happy little sigh he lets out as you gently massage his scalp with your nails.

“Good,” he replies. “I just want you to see yourself as I see you. Sexy, brilliant, witty, strong, and irreplaceable.”

“Y-you think I’m all that, Ez?” Surprise creeps into your tone as you blush deeply. His words are unexpectedly sweet and you can tell he’s being serious. It’s quite a change of character from a man who is usually so playful and teasing when it comes to your intimate moments together.

He gently wraps his arms around you and pulls you deeper in between his legs, leaning forward and laying soft kisses on the bare skin under your bra. He stuns you even more as he says, “Of course I do. And if I’ve ever failed to show you that through my actions, then I hope you will please forgive me.”

You very gently tug on his hair, making him look up at you before you lean down and kiss him softly but passionately. You just kiss him for a moment before murmuring, “Ezreal, there’s nothing to forgive. You’ve always believed in me and defended me for who I am since our friendship started almost two decades ago. Between your actions and words, you’ve repeatedly made it clear you believe what you’ve said. Sometimes it’s just a bit unbelievable to know I have someone as great as you in my corner to hype me up and make me feel so amazing and…well…desired. Self-love is just something I’m still working on.” You straighten yourself back up and hum happily as he returns his attentions back to your torso.

He murmurs against your skin, “Always happy to help you there, princess. Happy to tell you as many times, tell you as many things, and show you as many times as I need to for you to believe it.” His lips are now getting more and more passionate, including little sucks and nibbles.

You can’t help but lean your head back and close your eyes. “Let me guess,” you sigh with mock disappointment, “I’m going to get a lot of marks that I’ll have to deal with during the next few days.”

He grins against your skin before looking up at you, his chin resting on your tummy. “You know me so well, princess. I’ll try to make sure they’re not obvious,” he teases, completely returning to the playful lover you’ve gotten used to.

You look back down at him. “See that you do please. I’d like to avoid a repeat of last time. During one of the rare times both of my brother and I could make it to my parents’ house, he pulled me aside during dinner and asked me what the hell I’d been doing to get hickies on my neck and jaw. Hickies I didn’t realize were there, Ezreal. I saved your sexy ass, you know. He tried to get a name out of me. When he guessed you as a potential “suspect” I’m pretty sure I felt my entire soul leave my body. I had to lie and play everything off. Not an easy feat since I spend quite a bit of time with you when you’re home, and that’s something my brother is well aware of. Do you know how difficult it is to lie to your own twin brother?! He was ready to go on the warpath. I’m still not totally convinced he believes me that it wasn’t you, but you’re alive so he must believe me enough. Or he’s smart enough to know I’d kill him with my bare hands if he did anything to you. Oh, and also, disappearing for a few minutes at dinner only to come back downstairs with a scarf on wasn’t exactly subtle and my parents realized what was up. They didn’t ask me anything directly, but I’m pretty sure my mother said your name when I overheard them discussing it later on. My own parents talked about it, you fuck. You should have told me they were there,” you playfully complain and mock pout.

His grin turns more and more into a smirk and his hands continue to wander throughout your mini tangent. “My sexy ass and I appreciate your assistance in making sure I lived to see another day, princess,” he comments. “I’ll make sure to learn from my…mistakes, though you certainly enjoyed the process of getting those marks, if my memory serves me correctly. It usually does.” He winks at you.

This earns an eye roll and a sigh from you, even though he’s very right. “If you want to keep your mouth running, Ez, might I suggest you use it in a different manner on a different location? At least make it even more useful to me…” You let out breathlessly as your impatience starts to get the better of you.

“Tsk tsk, so impatient. I thought you were thanking me for the gifts first, princess,” he responds smugly as he undresses you the rest of the way.

You quickly undress him before gently pushing him to lay back on his bed, straddling him and leaning down so your lips are barely separated. “You drive me fucking crazy sometimes, you know that, Indiana Jones?” You whisper before nipping his bottom lip.

“The feeling is quite mutual, princess,” he whispers back with a wicked smirk. “Now come on…show me how much you really missed me…”

So you do. And he shows you how very VERY much he missed you in return.

(A/N: I’m so sorry, I tried to write this out as a full smut scene but it was just no good so fade to black it is for now. 🙃)

“I need something that will make me believe. If you got it, baby, give it to me.”

An hour and a half later, you lay completely satisfied with your head on Ezreal’s shoulder and hand on his chest, feeling his slowing heart rate thump against your palm. As you do, Ez is happily playing with your hair and gently tracing shapes into your bare hip with his free hand as your breathing and heart rate return to normal. You’re both just enjoying the feeling of being together again and savoring the comfortable and companionable silence you two have felt with each other for a long time. Well…silence until your stomach decides to make its displeasure at being empty loudly known. You feel Ez’s shoulder shift a little as he turns his head to look down at you as best he can.

“Hungry?” he murmurs softly, amusement evident in his voice. As he gives you the chance to respond, he gently kisses your temple, making you blush at the sweet little gesture.

You nod and shyly respond, “I thought we’d have dinner before we got to our…main events for the evening. We’ve been doing this for long enough though that I really should have known better. I’m just as impatient as you are.” You gently smirk up at him, enjoying the playful flicker of delight in his eyes.

A grin appears on his handsome face. “Come on now, princess. I know you’re smarter than that,” he teases gently as he carefully sits up with you. “What do you feel like having? We have leftovers, or we can order something to be delivered. Whatever you prefer.”

You think for a moment, biting your bottom lip. “I know this is probably a stretch, but do you happen to have any soup? It’s starting to get colder outside now that fall finally arrived,” you muse as you glance out the window on the far side of the room where the sun has already gone down. “I was thinking on the way over that it’s soup weather.”

Ezreal nods and murmurs, “Chef had the same thought. She told me she made some turkey and rice soup yesterday. She and the rest of the staff have the next few days off while my uncle is away, but she showed me where the leftovers were. I’ll go heat some and bring it up, along with some water. Knowing you, you probably haven’t had much today…have you?” He gets up before leaning back over you, bracketing you in with his arms, nearly nose-to-nose with you, a knowing expression in his eyes and a small smile gracing his lips. As close as he is, your body is already begging for him to come closer again, despite your currently exhausted and sated state.

You shake your head and temporarily hide your face in the soft blankets covering the bed and sigh. “God damnit we’ve been friends for far too long. You know me too well, Ez. Yes, water is definitely needed…” You peek back out at him over the blankets and giggle as you watch the smile on his face grow wider and wider.

He laughs and leans down, pulling down the blankets before giving you a surprisingly slow, tender, and deep kiss before haphazardly throwing on his pants and shirt and going out the door. He leaves you staring after him in surprise, heart fluttering, breathing a little shallow, and cheeks even more flushed after the intensity of that kiss. He’s been super…affectionate today. While Ezreal has never been an asshole after your moments together, neither has he gone way out of his way to….well to act so sweet either. Certainly he’s never heated up leftovers for you.

You shake your head, shaking away all those strange thoughts. I’m sure it’s just because he’s hosting me for a few days. And besides, wasn’t he talking about making sure his actions show me how he sees me? I’m thinking way too much into it! You happily sigh and get up, walking around to stretch your legs while you wait. After pulling on the bottoms of the emerald green set that Ez so carelessly tossed to the side earlier, you end up throwing on a shirt you pull out of his dresser as you check yourself out in the mirror on top of it. Usually he offers you his shirt when he’s at your place, but since he’s currently wearing it, this will have to do.

You shyly bring the collar of the shirt to your nose and inhale. A whisper soft noise of pleasure slips out from your lips, along with a smile as you confirm that yes, even after two months of him being away, the fabric still smells just like him. He’s always smelled nice. You don’t know what it is or what exact product is responsible for this fucking sorcery, but his “smell” has always been comforting for you. Probably because we’ve been friends forever, you think. It’s just one of those parts of him that has grown to be so familiar to me. You continue to ponder the matter as you hold the collar of the T-shirt up.

“It’s you in my reflection, I’m afraid of all the things it could do to me.”

As you look up to the mirror again, you jump a little in surprise as you meet Ezreal’s gaze in the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorway, just watching you with an amused smile as he holds a tray with two steaming bowls of soup and glasses of water. You let out a soft complaint as your cheeks heat and your hands immediately straighten out the shirt. “Damnit, Ezreal! How long have you been there?”

He just shakes his head a little and chuckles. “Just got here. And I wasn’t even trying to surprise you this time. You were just lost in thought,” he observes. “What had you thinking so much?” He waits until you’re settled back on his bed with the covers over your lap before passing the tray to you so he can also climb back in. He also pulls another tray from his night stand, carefully transferring one of the bowls and glasses to it so both of you have your own trays to eat from.

You watch him, waiting until he’s done before you start speaking. “There’s no point in lying. You already practically read me like an open book. You, actually. Specifically how surprisingly good you smell. Granted I haven’t been on a two-month-long excursion with you where there are limited bathing options. Trust me, I’m extremely grateful you shower and change before you come to my place/invite me over once you get home. But, anyway, whenever I see you, at least, you and your clothes smell very nice. I was also thinking about how familiar and…comforting? your “smell” has become to me. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends with someone for nearly two decades. It’s just one of those small things that becomes a part of you knowing the person.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right,” he observes. “I’ve never thought about it like that, but you also have what I would consider to be a “comforting smell.” Though, what’s interesting is how it doesn’t have to be static. It can be dynamic but still be definitely yours. Like today. You’re trying a new perfume out, yeah? Or at least one I haven’t noticed you use before.”

You’d been eating the delicious soup while he was talking. When that question left his lips, your spoon froze halfway to your mouth in surprise. “You’re right, actually, I am! Granted it’s in the same collection as the couple others I have so it’s not crazy different from the others I wear. Honestly that’s impressive, Ez,” you note before finally finishing the soup spoon’s journey to your mouth.

He gives you a victorious smile. “I knew it! I think a lot of it is the fact that we’ve known each other so long. I can just tell when something is different. By the way, the perfume, it smells good. I like it,” he remarks casually, causing you to laugh in between sips of water.

“Duly noted,” you acknowledge. “I brought the sample size with me so I’ll wear it tomorrow for the event. Speaking of tomorrow’s event, I’m imagining you also have a dress and shoes ready for me somewhere? Usually you send them with whatever “special” presents you’ve ordered for me, but I suppose since I was already coming over here there was no need.”

He nods and tilts his head to gesture towards his closet, a sly smile on his lips. “All good. It's in there with my suit, sugar baby,” he jokes. His unexpected tease causes you to lean your head back and laugh loudly, a genuine belly laugh that only a couple people, mostly him, manage to draw out of you.

“You’re a fucker sometimes, you know that, Ez?” you manage to get out as you suppress even more laughter.

He just grins widely at you before unabashedly stating, “Oh I’m well aware. But guess what? I’m your fucker, princess.”

Thank you for reading! Oh my GOD chapter 1 has been so much fun to write. I will say, this has hung out in my drafts for a little bit, mainly due to nerves, but I finally realized I just need to let it go and post it before I psych myself out completely. Chapter 2 is essentially written already, I’m just editing it a bit more.

#Ezreal #ezreal fic #ezreal x reader #reader insert #ezreal fluff #ezreal smut #league of legends

[bildad-the-shuhite-official]

Hurt/Comfort fanfic recommendations

A late night by wilywitchwahoo G, 400 words, h/c, insecure aziraphale, crying Crowley comforts his sad angel.

Your warmth is all I have by katterv T, 900 words, physical injury, mild blood, (gorgeous) fanart included Aziraphale is hurt, unconscious and so, so cold. Crowley hates it.

Morning Glory by HopeCoppice T, 1k, hurt/comfort, gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, genderfluid crowley, fem-presenting Crowley, insecurity, body image Crowley wakes early; Aziraphale watches him worry.

Your Effervescent Tears Cleanse My Core by TotallySnowy G, 1.1k, panic attacks, cuddling, aziraphale needs a hug It all started on a rather normal day in southeastern Londen, at specifically 4:05 AM in the morning, Aziraphale awoke with a start. Very, very peculiar for an angel, lest a nobel one at that. What was even more peculiar is that Aziraphale could feel his face become flushed. Quite peculiar indeed.

Evening Star by HopeCoppice T, 1.6k, insecurity, body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, cuddling, non sexual intimacy, non sexual nudity Aziraphale seems reluctant to join Crowley in bed, and Crowley is determined to get to the bottom of it.

All Good Hearts are Heavy by Sarah_hadeschild G, 1.8k, depression, depressed crowley, fluff, hurt/comfort, protective aziraphale Crowley has always dealt with bouts of depression-- periods in which he cannot bring himself to do much more than exist. Over the centuries, he grew accustomed to enduring these episodes on his own. But now, Aziraphale is with him. And although the angel cannot miracle away his lover's distress, he can try the only remedy he knows with any certainty. He can love him.

Counting on your love by that_angels_demon T, 2.2k, insecure Aziraphale, body dysmorphia, kissing, making out, asexual relationship, non-sexual intimacy Having finally confessed their feelings for each other after the (almost) Apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale explore the physicality they've always craved. But when long-internalized insecurities come to light, Aziraphale isn't so sure his demon will want this after all…

crack me open, feel me shatter by rattatatosk T, 2.7k, nightmares, Crowley’s fall, body horror, hurt/comfort Crowley dreams of the Fall. Aziraphale is there to catch him when he wakes.

To Exist and Love by IneffableDoll T, 3.1k, hurt/comfort, acephobia, asexuality, south downs cottage, hurt crowley, ace affirming, fluff Crowley runs into someone who says some bigoted nonsense about the asexual nature of his and Aziraphale’s relationship. It leaves him fuming, so when he returns home to his angel, they talk through it and navigate the complex feelings and hurts the interaction brings up. Basically: A very ace-affirming spite fic.

Flight and Fight by Phantom531 T, 3.3k, panic attack, post season 2, hurt aziraphale, angry crowley, hurt/comfort, angst Aziraphale has a panic attack and reaches for the only person he ever needed. Unfortunately, Crowley is still REALLY angry.

Crossfire by NuriaSchnee M, 4.7k, locked, post Armageddon’t, love confessions, hurt/comfort, showering together, non-sexual intimacy, first kiss In which a shower can solve 6000 years of secrets and misunderstandings. Or: Aziraphale finally breaks down at Crowley's flat and Crowley takes care of him.

I Forgive You by Sparkling12 M, 6.3k, post season 2, hurt Aziraphale, aftermath of torture, hurt/comfort, love confessions, bathing, cuddling Crowley taking care of his traumatised angel, while plotting revenge on Metatron. Part of a series: -  I Forgive You

Come as you are by fruitygoblin M, 10k, body dysmorphia, insecurity, wall sex Aziraphale visits a modern art gallery, goes on a diet, and submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Not necessarily in that order.

Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds M, 12k, human AU, chronic illness, chronic pain, hurt/comfort, bathing/washing, domestic fluff, childhood friends to lovers After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.

Touch my Tears with Your Lips by IneffableDoll T, 27k, post season 2, season 2 fix it, hurt/comfort, understimulation, making up, trauma, touch starvation, south down cottage In Heaven, there was nothing to touch. Aziraphale re-tied the knot of his bowtie again and again and again. He was alone, and nothing was real, and he was alone, and nothing was real.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens season 2 #good omens fic recs #good omens fanfiction

[mitsies]

pretty princess tea party; megumi fushiguro

megumi decides to keep you company whilst you babysit your hyperactive niece.

megumi fushiguro x gender neutral reader fluff, pining, fake dating, confessions - 1.9k words

megumi fushiguro was in over his head.

he didn’t know what compelled him to join you in watching your 8-year-old niece for a night, but for some godforsaken reason he did, and he was very much regretting it now.

but if he was being honest with himself, megumi doesn’t think he’d say no to you even if he could. something about the way your lips moved and your eyes shone when talking to him made him putty in your hands.

it was utterly embarrassing how compliant megumi was with you. it was like a new side was awoken when he was around you- all stubbornness and noncompliance vanquished from his body. he’d never admit to how he would be anyone you wanted if you so much as asked.

yeah, megumi fushiguro was infatuated and absolutely, definitively in love with you. but it’s a secret he’ll take to his grave- words he’ll never, ever admit to you.

or so he thought.

“you guys need to say ‘i love you’ to each other now.” 

sitting in his tiny pink child’s chair at his spot in the doll party circle, megumi blanches and chokes on the imaginary tea he is drinking. you look equally taken aback, eyes widening at the little girl as she returns your gaze pointedly.

when your niece fails to elaborate, you clear your throat and raise a questioning brow. megumi stays silent, eyes flickering between the two of you as you spoke. “yui.. why do you want megumi and i to say- to say that?”

“because you love each other.”

megumi has to turn his face away from you at this, opting to scrutinize the wall next to him instead. he whips his head so quickly that the princess tiara he’d been forced into wearing slips, now hanging asymmetrically in his hair.

“you guys are dating. so you have to love each other.”

you gawk at your niece’s bluntness and megumi squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to regain his composure. 

“megumi,” you start slowly, and he struggles to make eye contact with you. your face is unreadable, but something he can recognize as amusement is prevalent. “come with me to the kitchen?”

megumi didn’t need further convincing. he lifted his knees from where they were pressed to his chest, wincing at the soreness from the children’s chair he’d been placed on, and followed you wordlessly as you evacuated yui’s playroom.

“we’re dating,” were the first words that left your mouth when you were certain yui was out of earshot. megumi stared. the pink plastic crown dug into his scalp. he blinked once. then twice.

“..what?”

“you and me. we’re dating for today. or, at least pretend, for yui.” you quickly added, trying to adjust your wording. megumi stared at you blankly and you felt a rush of embarrassment heat up your face.

had you assessed his feelings for you incorrectly? were you too blunt? god, you knew you shouldn’t have taken notes from gojo on how to be smooth. this was the worst idea, no way was-

“okay. fine.”

it was your turn to be silenced. but it didn’t last for long before a huge, stupid grin cracked your face before you took his hand in your own and laughed. “it’ll be fun, promise.”

it was not, in fact, fun. torturous, was probably a better word.

megumi knew this was probably god’s way of punishing him for his sins because he was so fully aware that it was all fake when you looked him in the eyes and said ‘i love you.’ he hated that his heart beat so fast in his chest and he hated how he wasn’t lying when he replied, ‘i love you too.”

he must’ve done a fantastic job of hiding his inner conflict because your face bore no signs of understanding and yui simply giggled and continued hosting her tea party. but megumi payed no mind to what the girl was saying- he was too focused on you.

the way your skin was decorated with cheap rhinestone jewelry and mardi gras beads, and how the stupid plastic crown adorning your head matched your eyes almost perfectly, and your stupid voice when it changed an octave to fit the role of ‘tea party royalty’- megumi couldn’t help but fall farther in love with you.

but he was reminded that he could never have you when you looked back at him with that stupid look of yours, the one he didn’t know was only for him.

“i’m getting bored,” yui frowned, snapping megumi out of his thoughts. “let’s play a new version of this game!”

the little girl stood, grabbing your arm and then megumi’s and ushering the both of you to sit close together on the floor. the distance between the two of you was miniscule, and your eyes grew wide when you felt his hand accidentally brush your arm.

“sorry,” megumi said upon noticing your reaction, scooting further away. you internally cringed at yourself for losing the proximity, but forced a response. “no worries.”

yui stood in front of the two of you, her fairy wings and tiara askew, as she examined the both of you. 

“okay, new game. you’re my parents,” she said, pointing to both of you, “and we’re still fairy princesses. and we live in a big castle in the sky and you have to take me to fairy school everyday.”

you and megumi exchanged a glance before you nodded at the girl. “okay, sounds good,” you said with a too-tight to be genuine smile. “how do we play?”

after about 10 minutes of royal fairy princess decrees and magical powers, yui was bored. again.

“this doesn’t feel right,” the girl scowled. megumi looks at you before speaking, “maybe we could take a break for lunch-”

“no!” he snaps his mouth shut at yui’s ill-tempered retort. he remembers why he doesn’t like kids.

“yui,” you chide, “that was mean.”

she doesn’t respond. instead, she strokes an imaginary beard as if she’s contemplating the biggest decision of her life. after a few seconds of pensive silence, with you shifting closer to megumi out of discomfort (making him go still as a deer in headlights,) yui’s eyes light up and she raises a finger animatedly.

“i have an idea!”

nothing could have prepared either of you for what was about to come out of her mouth.

“you guys have to kiss and stuff.”

silence. you stare at yui. yui stares at megumi. megumi stares at you.

“why?” it was megumi who spoke first, again baring no reaction in his face or his voice. but his heart was running a million miles a minute and his skin felt so hot he might melt.

“because,” yui whines irritatingly, “you guys are married, remember? you’re my fairy royalty parents so you need to do what married people do and kiss!”

more silence. more staring. until, you speak:

“okay. sure.” you’re trying to be cool about it, but your voice cracks just a little bit, thankfully, megumi is too busy boring holes into your skull with his eyes to notice. yui cheers and sits back down next to her dolls, busying herself with fixing them new servings of cookies and tea.

“so, my love, what do you say?” megumi winces at the sarcasm dripping off the pet name and he reminds himself that this is all just pretend. it’s all pretend, it’s all just a game, and your lips look really soft and he really, really wants to kiss you.

but none of it is real. so he stands quickly, avoiding your gaze, and speedwalks stiffly out of the playroom, muttering some excuse about needing to use the bathroom. he doesn’t see the look of subtle heartbreak on your face. 

the rest of the day is awkward, to say the least. megumi sits as far away from you and yui as possible, remaining only slightly engaged in the games at hand. if he noticed your stolen glances at him, he said not a word.

just before dinner, it was finally time to leave. yui was bidding you goodbye at the door whilst her parents busied themselves with starting dinner, and she pulled you down to her level and whispered something in your ear.

megumi watched from a distance as your face reddened and you hushed the small girl’s incessant giggling. he spoke to you as he had been since the incident- in short, disconnected phrases. he didn’t look at you as you walked over, only asking, “you ready to go?”

you nodded and got into the passenger's seat of the car. it was a quiet drive, back to the dorms, and the tension was thick as could be. it practically suffocated you, and you think megumi was experiencing the same thing with how his grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white.

you weren’t expecting him to say anything. his silence was enough an answer for you, and you respected it. but the stillness was shattered when he let out a huff of air and pulled the car over.

you were on a long stretch of empty road. the darkness of the sky revealed dozens of stars lighting up the night. the moon was a sliver of white gold. you looked over to megumi, and he kept staring straight ahead, out of the front window of the now parked car.

“why’d we stop?” you words were quiet, almost a whisper, even though there was really no reason for it.

“i can’t do this anymore.” megumi’s answer was simple, but it made you furrow your brow. he still wasn’t looking at you.

“do what?”

“pretend.”

you blinked. “pretend? megumi, yui’s gone, we don’t have to pretend to be anything anymore. you know that, right?”

finally, megumi met your gaze. you couldn’t read his expression, but a sort of clarity had made itself clear in his eyes. it was addictive- you wanted him to keep looking at you like this. you wanted him to look at you forever.

“that’s not what i mean.” you waited for megumi to keep going, but no more words came out. your hand moved forward to take his own, resting it in your lap.

“then what do you mean?”

it was quiet for a few more moments. megumi looked away from you and up at the night sky and you felt almost empty at the loss of his gaze.

“i’m tired of pretending like i’m not in love with you.”

you inhaled sharply, closing your eyes like he’d struck you. you hadn’t expected a confession, even though you’d longed for one for as long as you could remember- if you were being honest with yourself, you had been prepared to play this game of cat and mouse for the rest of your life.

but here it was. here he was, so clear with how he felt for the first time since you’d met him, so blatant and obvious that you regret not kissing him sooner.

kissing him. it was something you’d thought about so embarrassingly often that it was almost muscle memory when you leaned over the center console and slotted your lips against his.

it felt so indescribably right when he kissed you back, a kiss full of pent up feelings and boundless emotions. he tasted like mint and the sugar cookies you’d baked with yui earlier.

it was in this moment that megumi fushiguro was very, very glad he’d agreed to help you watch your niece. yeah, maybe he’d been in over his head. but now he had you, and that was all that mattered.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x y/n #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jjk megumi #megumi fanfic #reader insert