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assassinsblade · 4 months

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Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

Part 2

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Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff

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vixstarria · 4 months

Text

Missionary with the lights off

We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader

18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV

Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much

Approx. 1,800 words

You woke up in Astarion's tent.

Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.

You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.

The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep.

He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.

You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred.

“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you.

Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.

“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.”

“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally.

“The night at the clearing..?” you offered.

“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked.

“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned.

Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking.

You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.

“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.

“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.”

“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way."

“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.

“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?”

“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?”

“Right there,” you breathed.

“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.

“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.

Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.

Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was.

You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.

Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.

However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.

And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.

The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.

One heartbeat... Two... Three...

Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.

Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.

Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt.

You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee.

All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock.

You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.

You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.

Finally, you felt complete.

There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him.

You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.

“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed.

There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside.

“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.

"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted.

Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came.

Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you.

“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.

“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.

Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.

Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts.

“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.”

“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.

“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you.

“That can be arranged,” you purred.

There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“We could always die today,” you shrugged.

“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.”

Bonus scene:

“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!”

“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.”

“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.”

“We need you, Astarion!”

“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!”

“Save us, Astarion!”

“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?”

“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”

Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.

“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.”

“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...”

~~~~~

Mark me as yours - fic re the following day

I have a whole series with these two, check it out

AO3

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion romance

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aashi-heartfilia · 5 months

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What MaoMao feels for Jinshi...

(Vol 5 epilogue discussion)

Love, duh. She wouldn't let just anyone choke her to death. Isn't it obvious? She just doesn't realise it yet because of her repressed emotions. I've seen a lot of bad takes and people hating on the Vol 5 epilogue, saying it's one heck of a disaster but honestly, it's not. Here's why:

I think it does a very good job of humanizing Jinshi, the imperial brother. Before this point, we were always given a picture perfect image of Jinshi, in his most angelic form...but after seeing this, it looks like he's very much capable of murder, lol. No seriously!

Previously, Jinshi was always all sunshine and roses and this is the first time we see a pinnacle of his anger and frustration taking a form.

Honestly, anyone would be angry. Jinshi has done so much for MaoMao and almost everyone close to him knows that he has eyes on her and only her from pretty early on in the series and only MaoMao is the one person who seems to be in the dark. Or more precisely pretending to be in the dark.

She is literally running away from her own feelings and that's what made Jinshi so frustrated.

It was the same thing in the 'Frogging chapter' (yeah, that's what we're calling it). She was "playing the role of an ignorant maid who's in the dark as to what her supiriors are upto". Jinshi was trying to tell MaoMao that he is the imperial brother and he does in fact like her but that never happened because MaoMao kept pretending that it was a frog.

Same here, even if he didn't say it outright, he was dropping so many hints! Who else could have gifted MaoMao a Moon hairpin? Who would have given her beautiful dresses to wear in the banquet?

Jinshi is called the Moon Prince for a reason and that hairpin had a moon and opium poppy. even other people recognised that it was given by him to MaoMao like Rishu's half sister, so a smartass person like Mao should be able to guess that this was all from Jinshi.

The same person who's busy day and night made preparations for her, only to see some unknown random person dancing with her and kissing her hand.

He was jealous and it's only human.

In fact, I'm glad that he's not a complete saint.

He was mad at MaoMao for pretending to be in the dark when he has gone to great lengths to take care of her, and he was hurt that the same person would even suggest him to marry someone else, i.e. consort Rishu.

He was trying to tell her how he feels, and she wasn't even willing to acknowledge anything that is between them.

Adding to the fact, she knew the thing between Basen and Rishu and yet she chose to turn a blind eye, to the love that could blossom between them and suggested her name to Jinshi. It was wrong on so many levels because MaoMao knew everything and yet chose to give the most political suggestion she could think of.

Maybe because of her repressed emotions, she herself has become heartless while making decisions but just like a double edged sword, it has consequences.

So it was a mixture of anger, hurt and jealousy for Jinshi.

And he wanted MaoMao to feel the same.

The same amount of frustration he has felt as MaoMao keeps running away, just because it would be a little troublesome.

Yeah, he's shitty just like that, and so is she.

(and we love them for it ❤️)

Does it justify what he did? No. But it seems like MaoMao herself doesn't even mind it that much. She looked like well within her comfort zone. Otherwise, we know how capable she is of defending herself. But she was there, pretty much sitting with Jinshi until she dominated him completely and made her escape.

Guess they're both far from the vanilla couple that are usually expected in these kinds of series and I absolutely love it.

She was just mad he didn't poison her instead, like he promised her, to which he replied he would NEVER let her poison herself (because he also loves her a lot too, duh)

This entire scene looks more like a battle for sexual dominance, which MaoMao won.

She always has, since the very first day he saw the real her ❤️

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kamiversee · 2 months

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 21 || The After Hours

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, a tinge of angst, and sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"I DON'T UNDERSTAND," YOU murmured to the albino man whose arms you're comfortably carried in.

What the hell does he mean by when you call he comes running? You didn't call him... right? Wait, fuck, you don't even remember. Was it really Geto's voice you heard over the phone?

Gojo slowly walks with you in his grasp toward his car, "You called me... Well, I know you probably meant to call Suguru but uh, you called me, sweetheart." He explains.

A pouty expression takes over your features as you grumble out a response to him, "Why didn't you... s-say anything, asshole."

He shrugs, "Cause' Suguru's asleep and I didn't want his half-woken brain to come out here and get you, who's completely wasted. So, it's a good thing you accidentally called me anyway. Plus, I missed-," He stops as he looks at your face.

Your eyes closed and you'd fallen asleep again. Gojo opens his mouth to finish what he is saying but instead sighs and focuses his gaze on where he's walking.

Carefully, the male works his passenger car door open and places you inside. Gojo is overly cautious while he seats you comfortably. Your head had leaned into a visibly unbearable position and he had to be light with his touches to fix you properly.

The pads of his fingers are soft against your face and he's gentle with the way he handles your head. When he's done making sure you don't look uncomfortable and finishes buckling you in, his eyes pause on your pretty resting features.

Even though the beauty Gojo sees in your face, he can't help but notice the dried tear streaks running down your cheeks. He wonders when you cried and why. Was it because of him? Again? The thought alone makes his heart ache.

Gojo shuts his eyes and leans his forehead to yours, resting against you lightly, "I'm sorry..." He whispers to you, despite the fact that you're asleep.

After another second, Gojo removes himself from your space and shuts his car door softly. He then makes it into the driver's seat and he's quick to start his car and drive off.

The ride is slow and Gojo tries to make it as smooth as possible so that he doesn't wake you up. There were a few times when you moved and let out a little groan, each time prompting a concerned gaze from the man in the diver's seat.

Each minute that passes, Gojo spends it thinking about what you told him over the phone. He hates to see you struggling like this, wishing he could go back and maybe do something different but knowing the outcome would've been bad either way.

By the time he gets to your apartment, it's even later into the night and Gojo spends the entire time with you being as careful as possible. He knows you didn't want to see him but he needed to make sure you got home safely.

So, the man carried you all the way to your apartment door and even let himself inside. You found this out a while ago when you went through your messages but apparently, Shoko gave Gojo a spare key to the apartment.

You thought it was weird of your roommate to do so without talking to you about it but she eventually explained to you that she's asked Gojo to go to your apartment more times than she can count and it was frustrating giving him her keys every time.

That, and she secretly felt like him having access to the apartment would help the two of you get together. Of course, Shoko is still ignorant of what's going on between you and Gojo but neither of you has plans on changing that.

After all, her giving him spare keys is beneficial to you in a situation like this.

Gojo moves into your apartment with you in his arms, his footsteps quiet. When he entered, everything was dark and he noticed Shoko's room door was closed. He figured she was asleep since the space beneath her room door showed no signs of lighting and plus, it was pretty late.

You shift around in Gojo's arms while he carries you into your room. The male carefully placed you down on your bed and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable in your sleep but was nervous to do so.

Gojo drags his gaze up and down the obvious discomfort the dress you're wearing brings you and he so desperately wants to change you. With a sigh, he glances around your room, searching for a t-shirt he can toss over you but spotting none.

The man knows you probably won't like it but, he stands up and strips his upper half, removing the white sweater he was wearing and moving to put it onto your body, leaving him in a simple t-shirt he had underneath.

The sweater went over your dress after which, Gojo felt around your back, careful not to touch you directly, and unzipped your dress. He didn't want to lay eyes on your body while you were asleep so, the male worked your dress off you and down your legs with his sweater blocking his eyesight from seeing anything.

On you, his sweater went down to the beginning of your thighs, looking like a dress in itself on your smaller frame. Gojo had long since worked your heels off, having neatly placed them somewhere in your room and now he was trying to tuck you into your bed.

After that, he left your room for only a moment to grab medicine for the painful hangover he knows you're going to have when you wake up. Returning to you swiftly, he puts all the necessary items on your nightstand and sighs.

Soft snores left you, prompting his eyes to fall on your face for the millionth time that night. Gojo tilts his head as he looks at your face, taking in all of your features. He missed having the mere luxury of just looking at you.

You're so beautiful in his eyes that just staring at you makes him loathe himself for the terrible shit he's putting you through.

When the long moment of appreciation comes to an end, Gojo caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand as if to say bye, before leaning up and turning away.

What he doesn't expect is for a delicate set of fingers to wrap around his wrist and stop him from going anywhere. Before he can even turn around to look at you, you whisper out a sleepy and still drunken, "S-Stay."

All it takes is that one word of yours for the male to stop every movement. Hell, he thinks he stops breathing for a second. Turning his face around to look at you, he spots your eyes just barely open and your hand holding him.

Gojo swallows, "Sweets, as much as I want to... you don't really-"

"Satoru," You whisper.

The way you say his name so suddenly after not referring to him as such for what felt like an eternity makes his heart throb violently in his chest. Gojo's whole facial expression weakens, his body and mind completely incapacitated under the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch.

Your eyes flick up to him and he can tell that you're clearly drunk.

"Y-Yes?" Gojo whispers back.

"Stay." You command.

He feels so utterly helpless under your gaze. What is he supposed to say when you look at him so longingly? Holding onto his wrist in a way that makes him feel like if he leaves, he'll only leave you sadder.

He glances off to the side, "You're just gonna be upset when you sober up. I can't-"

"Toru please." You murmur, suddenly frowning, "I... d-don't wanna be alone."

Gojo's eyes shut and he grits his teeth, "Fucking hell... O-Okay, fuck, fine w-whatever you want." He stammers out, physically unable to deny your requests. "Just... don't curse me out when you're sober, please."

You let his wrist go and smiled cheekily, "No promisessss."

Gojo walks around to the other side of your bed and slowly lays down beside you. Even drunk, you could tell he was nervous doing so-- he already knew what was going to happen when your drunken state faded away. At first, the man lays down as far as possible, making you flip your body around to face him.

He clears his throat, "Is this okay?"

The guy was on the other side of your bed, clearly trying to keep his distance. You giggle, "No, stupid... Come hold me," You whisper.

"H-Hold you?" Gojo chokes out.

You sigh heavily, "At least until-," You yawn, "...I fall back asleep. T-Then you can leave, if you want."

With a slight nod, Gojo just barely slides closer to you. One of his large arms goes over your side and you immediately reciprocate, making his heart skip a beat at the way your small hand is felt on his back. The two of you were basically hugging each other and the state of his heart worsens as you snuggle in closer to him.

"C'mon, this is unfair..." Gojo sighs heavily.

You continue hugging him anyway, comforting your head into his chest. "I know," You whisper in response.

The two of you then get quiet for a while. Your breathing gets softer and softer against his chest and every brush of air against his skin makes it harder for him to calm his rapidly beating heart. It's been so long since you'd been close to him like this that he doesn't know how to handle it.

Gojo feels almost dizzy by your warm body against his. It's not turning him on or anything but his heart feels so odd in his chest.

Suddenly, your head shifts and you look up a him, "Gojo..." You whisper.

And he misses the way you say his first name already, "Hm?"

"You're so cruel to me." You babble out. Not only was your intoxication beginning to take over your mind, but fatigue was weighing in on you as well.

He sighs shakily, "Am I?"

"Very..." You start pouting, "He made me really happy, y'know..."

Gojo blinks in confusion.

"Choso," You clarify. Gloss begins to lay over your eyes and you quickly grow saddened, "...He won't even talk to me now."

"Did you... tell him about the list or something?"

"No, idiot." You fire back. "He wanted to date me but... I o-obviously couldn't say yes because of you."

Guilt thrums throughout Gojo's body, "I'm sorry." He apologizes sincerely.

You sigh heavily, "Y'know... if you were really sorry, you'd delete that video of me and let me go..."

"I can't." Gojo replies, squeezing his eyes shut, "I really can't."

"Why?" You question, scoffing slightly, "After all this time, can you at least tell me why it has to be me?"

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice."

What does he mean by that? You have no idea. It's just another one of Gojo's stupid explanations that make no sense whatsoever, leading you to only be annoyed with him for the nth time since you've known him. You're negative emotions for this male run deeper than anything else.

Even so, there's this underlying emotion you feel when he talks to you or looks at you. And you absolutely despise the way it affects you because the man simply plagues your heart, vexing you with his toxic and fucked up realities of how he wants things to go.

You find yourself lulled into it all nonetheless. Whether it be by choice or not, something about Gojo just draws you to him in so many ways.

You hate the way he looks at you as if your very existence is what he still breathes for. The way he talks to you like each second without your presence is steadily crushing his will to live. How he holds you so gently yet firmly as if he dreads the instant he has to let you go.

And more than anything, you hate the combination of all that being tied to his stupidly handsome face that makes you nervous at every second, even though you try to hide it. Then there are the memories of the very few good times you spent with him.

Somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside-- you'd give anything to go back to that morning you woke up in his arms.

Gojo Satoru may be no Kamo Choso but even so, both men hold some deep and special, whether it be good or bad, place in your heart.

You shake your head in disbelief, "...I hate you."

Gojo swallows down your words, "That uh... That makes four."

"What?" You scoff confusedly.

"That's the fourth time you've said those words to me-- the fourth time you've claimed to hate me." Gojo points out, his voice so clearly sorrowful, "I wish you didn't..."

Your brows bush together, "...Wish I didn't say it or...?"

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me."

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off unintentionally by continuing.

"It's odd though," Gojo whispers, his fingers toying with the back of the sweater you're wearing. "Why would you want to be in my arms if you hate me so much?"

You groan, "Cause'...." The reasoning takes a second to come out, almost as if you didn't want to admit such a thing out loud, "I don't... I don't wanna be alone." You murmur, your voice wavering a little before your grasp on him grows tighter.

Gojo's heart is pounding so ridiculously hard against his chest when he feels you cling to him so desperately. It took control of every muscle and vein in his body not to squeeze you back just as hard to let you know that he'd never leave unless you told him to.

A soft, heart-wrenching little chuckle leaves his lips, "Me neither, sweetheart."

For a second time, silence wraps around the two of you. The only noise in the air now was the sound of you both breathing faintly. You don't know why but, even though you hate him, you couldn't deny the deep sense of comfort and understanding you felt within his arms.

Your heart was heavy in your chest, feelings for Choso having a dangerous steel grip on you. If you were to complete this list; you needed to put your feelings for that man aside. Only temporarily though. By all means, no matter what it took, you'd be running back to Choso the very second you were freed to do so.

Unconsciousness creeps up on you and unexpectedly wraps your mind up in a warm little blanket, swaying you into relaxation and tugging you into a state of slumber. Meanwhile, Gojo lay awake, unable to fall asleep with the ounces of guilt, regret, and disappointment in himself that cascaded over him.

Though it took a while, he waited until it seemed like you were asleep and then tried to ease his way out. Sadly, through your sleep, you only clung onto his body more-- silently begging him not to go anywhere.

With a sigh, he ends up staying.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

A few hours later, you wake up because of a pounding headache. It was still dark and your eyes just barely opened to gather your surroundings. Finally, you were sober.

Your mind was all groggy and you couldn't remember much after Gojo came and picked you up. It was in fragments and pieces that you recalled talking to him in your sleep and begging him to stay with you.

Yet, when you woke up and opened your eyes, you were met with the dim sight of your bedroom door closed and no feeling of warmth or body heat around you. It annoyed you that Gojo left even though you told him to stay.

Being alone was the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Even hours after your intoxication had worn off, the worst part about it was that as you propped your side up using your elbow and reached for the meds on your nightstand, a wave of arousal abruptly coursed through you. Perhaps it was because of your interactions with Naoya's piss-poor skills at pleasing you-- having left you unsatisfied all this time.

While you swallowed down a pill to kill your headache, you planned on possibly going to lock your door and just rub it out. You hate waking up horny like this and the headache doesn't help either. If only Naoya had known how to use his dick properly, you would've been fine right now.

With a sigh, you move to sit up and suddenly spot a large build lying on the other side of your bed. You almost let out a yelp in surprise until you realized that it was Gojo and that the man never left you.

Your head tips to the side while you eye his resting frame. His back is to you and you figure the male moved away from you so that you wouldn't curse him out first thing in the morning. You groan slightly at the recollection of you telling him to stay.

The sound of your light groan is enough to stir the man awake. He begins to turn around and your heart jumps for some reason when you meet eyes with him.

Gojo rubs his eyelids slightly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Well... aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." He hums, his deep morning voice only worsening that arousal of yours.

You swallow, "Don't start."

"Mmmmgh.." He hums tiredly, the sound vibrating against his throat and weirdly making your state worse. He then sighs and shuts his eyes, "Don't start what, sweetheart?"

Gojo's voice is way too damn sexy for you to have a proper conversation and, of course, the damn pet name never helps.

You ignore his question, "You need to leave."

"Make me," Gojo says playfully. You frown and his eyes suddenly open, "Come over here 'nd force me out." He murmurs, voice still low but clearly playful.

You roll your eyes at the male, "I'm not joking."

He smirks seductively, the sight unintentionally attractive to you, "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Why not?" You scoff sassily.

"Haven't done anythin' to make 'em roll, that's why," Gojo replies, the suggestiveness of his words feeding your hormones.

You push the blanket down and away from your legs, revealing your warm skin to the comforting air of your room. "You plan on doing something to make em' roll?" You reply.

Gojo's body stills in reaction to your words. His eyes close again and you watch him bite his bottom lip, "Want me to?"

You shouldn't. At all. You absolutely should not be needy for Gojo of all people.

You decide not to answer him and simply let out a yawn. He chuckles, the sound foolishly sexy. God, everything about this man is turning you on right now and you absolutely hate it.

"I can't stand you," You end up saying.

"Come sit on me then." Gojo fires back.

A throb is felt in between your legs and you grit your teeth. You didn't like the way he challenged you, almost as if you wouldn't really do so. It was one hundred percent because of your hormones that move, shifting to hold yourself up on your knees and shuffling over to the man.

Gojo's eyes shoot open and he chokes as you actually toss one leg over his and straddle him. His hands scramble a bit to lift himself up but you put your palm to his chest and push him right back down aggressively.

"Don't move now, you're the one who told me to come sit on you." You utter in a sultry tone.

He swallows as he stares up at you, never expecting you to be so bold. "Fuuck... it's too early for this y'know... Fuckin' sun isn't even up yet," He groans, his voice deeper than ever.

You lean forward, causing your crotch to rub over his, "Too early for what?"

"For you to be gettin' on top of me like this," Gojo sighs almost panicked, "I know I told you to but-," You wiggle into him a bit to comfort yourself, "F-Fuck, I didn't think you'd actually..."

Your torso tips forward and you press your fingertips into his chest, "Actually get on top of you?" You finish Gojo's statement questionably.

He nods, "Yeah."

The ache in between your legs is slowly becoming unbearable so, you roll your hips forward, your clothed cunt dragging against Gojo's cock and making his brows furrow and his jaw drop slightly.

"H-Hah, woah, w-wait, what're you doing?" Gojo questions. Those large hands of his go to your thighs and he squeezes your skin slightly.

You tilt your head innocently, "Trying to finish what that asshole Naoya left of me last nigh..." Your voice tails a bit as your roll your hips back and feel Gojo gently hump himself up into you, "Hah, n-night..." You manage out breathly.

Gojo smirks but his breathing is now heavy. He remembers you telling him that you had bad sex with Naoya but you never told him what exactly you meant by that. "What he left of-," He swallows hard, "You?"

Your head nods, "Mhm. Fucker didn't even make me cum," You explain, pouting frustratedly as you recall.

The male below you blinks, "What?"

"He didn't make me cum," You repeat while slowly grinding over the steady rise of Gojo's cock. There's almost nothing more stimulating than feeling as a male grows hard beneath you.

It's so warm and hard how his dick springs to life within the confines of his boxers. All because of a little bit of dry humping.

"You want me to make up for him?" Gojo's quick to offer.

You smile lustfully and drag your hips in a slow circle over his erection, "No... I can uh, shit... can get of jus' fine like this..." You tell him.

A wet spot forms on the male's boxers as precum seeps out the tip of his cock at the thought of watching you get yourself off by dry humping.

Gojo slips his hands up and under the sweater you're wearing, his grasp going to your hips and guiding you through your movements. "You sure?" He breathes out, "You and I both know I can satisfy you just fine."

You chuckle and then catch him off guard by grabbing his hands and prying them away from your body. Gojo's eyes widen when you pin his hands up above his head, your gaze meeting his while you continue grinding on him.

"I know you can but..." You tilt your head tauntingly, "You haven't earned that kinda thing back."

"W-What?" He stammers, his face flushing as your fingers squeeze around his wrists.

The way you're looking at him alone is enough to drive him over the edge but he manages to control himself. Your voice lowers, "You haven't earned the right to fuck me Gojo." Your words make him blink in disbelief, "Not after all the shit you put me through."

"But..."

"There is no but." You say, leaning down to him and tipping your head down to his neck. Carefully, you press your lips into him, "Right now, the only thing you've earned is the pleasure of being used by me."

Your words go straight to his cock and Gojo gulps. Is he hearing you correctly right now? Did you just say you were going to use his body for your pleasure? Is he even okay with that?? Of course he is. Gojo physically couldn't say no to such a thing.

Your lips push into the skin right under his jaw and Gojo groans lowly. Your cunt flutters around nothing at the sound and you grin. Lifting yourself, you move to hover your face over his, peering down into his eyes.

"S'that okay?" You whisper, "Can I do that?"

"I-I..." Gojo is at a complete loss for words right now.

You inch closer to him and your lips graze his own, "Can I use you, Gojo?"

He swore he almost came at the imagination of you doing so.

Everything you said was exactly what you wanted too. You really didn't believe that Gojo deserved to have sex with you without some form of punishment due to all the things he's putting you through. Hell, the only reason you're about to do anything with him is because of how horny you woke up.

Or at least, that's what you're going to blame it on anyway.

"Of course you can, sweets." Gojo utters, his eyes low, "I'm all yours, every part of me, it's all yours." He breathes out.

You smile at his words, "Yeah?"

"M-Mhm... You wanna selfishly use me to make yourself feel good," He shrugs, "By all means." Gojo encourages you, "Please do actually. I told you I'd make things up to you right?"

You almost forgot about that but, he's right. He did promise such a thing so, you nod in response.

"Consider this a part of it," The male explains, "I'm nothing more than a tool for you."

You smile at his words, butterflies fluttering through your stomach in reaction. You wondered if he was only speaking like this in terms of sex or if he meant in general but, based on the needy look in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks, he meant it in every aspect.

Slowly, your eyes shut and you press your lips into his for the first time in what feels like forever. The immediate whine that leaves Gojo is so utterly pathetic and desperate, the fact that you're still pinning his hands down acts as torture for the male.

Given that his favorite thing to do is touch you, to be deprived of that during sex is about to be one of the most difficult things he's ever experienced. But, for you; Gojo would do anything to fix everything he's broken between the two of you.

Your lips part over his and he's eager to accept your tongue sliding into his mouth, his hands simply twitching to feel your body as the two of you make out. It's slow and sloppy, wet tongues slipping over one another while soft and quiet moist sounds of your kissing fill the air.

It ends up being you that folds to the urge to touch and feel him, sliding your hands down from his writs, along his muscular arms, to his shoulders, and then to his neck and face-- growing more aggressive with your kissing and feelings his smooth skin beneath your fingers.

Gojo kept his arms up in place as you lifted from his mouth, quickly whispering his desires to you, "Can I touch you?" He hushes out before you kiss him again.

Feeling ignored, Gojo is struggling to control himself. Nothing is stopping him from moving his hands to your waist and flipping the two of you over, quickly grinding into that warm cunt of yours and pleasing you like he knows you deserve. Yet, he remains still anyway.

You tug on his lower lip for a moment before releasing it, "You wanna touch me?"

"Please," He begs, "A-At least while you're kissing me..."

"Alright," You agree, "But when I tell you to take your hands off me, you better."

Gojo nods understandingly and obediently, quickly flying his hands down to your waist and gripping onto you as your lips connect again. The kiss only grows sloppier, your lips sliding over his and his tongue working its way up into your mouth, leading you to hum against him.

Deep down inside, you can't lie... you did miss making out with Gojo. Nobody kisses you like he does. This man kisses you as if it's his dying act.

His hands go down to your hips and he pushes himself up a bit while pulling you down onto his crotch again. Through your messy kissing, Gojo starts moving with you to sit himself up with you in his lap, your lips hardly ever disconnecting from one another.

Now that you're both sat up, it makes kissing each other and dry humping at the same time a whole lot more comfortable and easy.

Through the softness of your lips, Gojo's able to whisper a thing out to you every now and then, "F-Fuck... I missed you s'much..." He mumbles into you.

His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his neck, both of you hungrily making out with each other.

When you pull away for a second to breathe, you respond. "Did you?" You murmur.

Gojo nods eagerly, "You know I did."

You smile slightly as you kiss him again. Both of you just barely conversate in between pecks, "...Prove it," You utter.

The sound of his lips smacking over yours is heard, "O-Okay... I will, however-, mh... however you want." He speaks between your constant pecks and gentle sucks over his lower lip, "T-Told you... I'm all yours."

You finally pry away from his mouth completely, a string of saliva left between your lips and his. "Alright then... can I..." You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to debate if you really want to go through with the idea in your head.

Gojo looks absolutely dazed right now from all your kissing-- having almost blown his load in his pants from making out with you. His cheeks are completely red, his lips parted with heavy pants leaving him, and his eyes low as they look at you.

"Yes," Gojo blurts out, "Whatever it is, you can do it to me." He agrees.

The man appears as though he was fucked out and all you've done is swap spit with him.

You stare at him innocently before giving him one last peck and then moving to his ear, "Can I tie you up?"

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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manjjiros · 4 months

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JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

ran haitani x fem!afab!reader

cws: d/s dynamics, brat!reader, brat taming, spanking, fingering, spit, piv, creampie, ‘little girl,’ ‘brat,’ ‘slut’ used for reader, ask to tag.

from the ASM: ran and his girlfriend left in kind of a hurry after she spent the whole night with takeomi. i hope they don’t fight too bad.

over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment (teehee)

“i still don’t understand why you made us leave early!”

you pouted from your spot in the passenger’s seat of ran’s car, arms crossed over your chest and eyes focused on the night lights passing by. ran clicked his tongue in annoyance, his fingers gripping harder into the flesh of your thigh.

“i think you know exactly why we left early.”

“no, i don’t! it was so rude! all the other guys were still there and you threw a hissy fit and made us leave!” you whipped your head around to finally look at him for the first time since he had placed his hand on your back at the party and guided you away from your conversation.

he was angry. his jaw rolled at your comment, tongue clicking against his teeth. his index finger tapped against your thigh; if he was at a table, he’d be tapping that instead, rhythmically and with a certain ferocity behind it that meant you were in for it.

you knew what it was that caused him to get in this foul fucking mood. mostly because you had done it on purpose.

sidling up to takeomi to say hello in greeting was one thing. lingering around the older man, sharing a cigarette with him, letting him get you a drink from the open bar and eventually letting his hand wander to your thigh while talking? that was another thing entirely.

ran had been the one to invite you along to the work party as a plus one. manjiro industries needed to keep up public appearances, after all, and renting out an illustrious party hall for new year’s eve was one good way to keep things under wraps. your caring boyfriend had allowed you to come this year, under the impression that you would cling to him and let him take you home.

instead, you had grinned and made your rounds to the other executives, clad in a tight dress and that thick fur coat he had purchased for you, before taking a seat at takeomi’s table to ‘catch up,’ your words, not his.

ran did not appreciate your complete disregard of him at the dinner. he wouldn’t allow it to go unchecked.

“are you gonna answer me? or are you just going to sit there all quiet like you’re a child? what are we, five?” you hissed at him, trying to tug your thigh out from under his grip, but he curled his fingers tighter into your exposed flesh to prevent you from going anywhere. he said nothing as he used his other hand to turn the car into the parking garage of his high-rise building, veins in his forearm flexing with the movement. you hadn’t realized he hadn’t even put his suit coat back on before leaving, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. you had half a mind to ogle him at the moment, focusing on the fact that you were in fact still mad at him for his silent treatment and for being pulled from a fun party early.

he turned rather quickly into his parking spot, finally letting go of your thigh to put his luxury car in park and get out. you didn’t give him a chance to come around and open the door for you, as he often did. you stepped out of the vehicle, heels clicking along the pavement. he still wouldn’t look at you, not even coming around the car to wait for you. he slung his suit coat over his forearm and tucked his keys into his pocket as he felt around for his keycard, walking ahead of you.

“excuse me? hello? earth to ran? are you seriously going to ignore me now?”

“don’t yell, it echoes in here. you’ll embarrass yourself.”

oh, now you were boiling, hurrying your pace in your heels to catch up to him. “are you being serious? don’t embarrass myself? imagine how i felt when you practically dragged me out of that party! you’re acting like we’re in grade school!”

ran’s brows twitched as he rolled his eyes at you, swiping his keycard in the elevator pad to open the doors and allow you both access. you followed him in, and watched him swipe his keycard yet again to gain access to the top floor where his unit was.

“i don’t see how i’m the one acting like a child when you did the same shit. what were you thinking, huh? that getting all close to takeomi wouldn’t be such a bad idea?” his voice was rough as he tucked his keycard away in his pocket, cracking his knuckles as your face flared.

ah. this was about you. obviously it was, and you knew it well. your lips twitched before you turned away from him with a huff. “i don’t see an issue with knowing your coworkers, ran. or should i say, your other gang leaders.”

“no? you don’t think so?”

“nope. not at all.”

“final answer?”

“are we on a game show now? lock it in, host!”

“you’re a real fuckin’ brat, little girl.”

you didn’t get a chance to spew another word at him, because the elevator made that sweet chiming noise to let you know you were on the right floor, and ran was all up in your space.

his hand met your lower back and guided you out roughly, making you stumble in your heels. “hey-!”

“enough already. i don’t want to hear any more fucking complaints come from you. no sounds unless you’re crying my name, do you understand me?”

ran moved his hand from your lower back to the nape of your neck as the doors of the elevator closed silently behind you. his fingers dug into your skin as he forced you to look up at him. his eyes were blown and dark in that way that made your whole body feel like it was alight in flames.

your head bobbed in a yes motion, feeling the way his fingers were twitching against the sides of your neck. ran was pissed, rightfully so, and you were in for it.

he let go of you entirely and tossed his suit jacket over the back of the nearest loveseat, loosening his tie and sliding it off. you stood near the elevator still, dazed and confused, while he took a seat and messed with his tie.

he looked over the back of the couch at you with a glare and a crook of his finger, and you were following immediately, circling to the front of the couch and standing in front of him.

“turn around.”

you blinked down at him before slowly turning away from him. his hands reached up and tugged your fur coat off, tossing it haphazardly to the side and probably to the floor. you felt the rough pads of his fingers between your shoulder blades as he fumbled with the tiny zipper holding your dress up. he tugged it down, down, down, his knuckles ghosting along your spine as he moved, before he was peeling the fabric off of your body and dropping it to the floor to pool around your ankles.

“no panties, either? what, did you want to get slutted out to everyone in the fucking room?”

“no, i-”

“shut up.” he hissed through gritted teeth. “you could be so good if you just fucking listened.”

you stood bare in front of him, back turned to him on the couch. your thighs trembled; you knew that in the dim lighting of the lamps in the living room, ran could see the slick that glistened between your folds.

he tapped the back of one of your knees and you turned to face him. he’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt, tattoos starting to poke out. he sat up on the couch then and reached up to grab your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and tugging you close. you gasped slightly from the sudden movement, stumbling forward to stand between his knees.

“open.”

you furrowed your brows at him, and he squeezed your cheeks harder.

“i said, open.”

with a tap of his index finger on your cheek, you relented fully, opening your mouth as asked. you expected him to shove his fingers into your mouth, make you gag and choke.

what you didn’t expect was for him to take a brief pause before spitting directly into your mouth. you moaned, a sound you didn’t anticipate to come from your own throat, as the taste of his saliva coated your tongue.

you barely had a moment to think about it before ran’s mouth was on yours, practically devouring you whole as his hands moved to your hips to drag you into his lap.

you went with ease, straddling his waist and wrapping your arms tight around his neck. he hungrily licked into your mouth, tasting the drink that takeomi had gotten for you still on your tongue mixed with his spit.

he pulled back with your bottom lip between your teeth, making you whimper and grip at the short hair at the base of ran’s neck.

“y’such a needy little fuckin’ brat, huh? goin’ out to a party with dangerous men and wearing nothing underneath your little dress. what did you want to happen? wanted one of the other men to grab you and whore you out in front of everyone? in front of the boss?”

he growled practically against your lips as you started to rock against the bulge in his slacks, no doubt leaving a wet patch in your wake. one of his hands moved from your hip, and for a moment you thought he would grab a handful of your tits like he always did, flicking at your nipple and making you keen.

ran, ever the surprising man, brought his hand down on your ass, hard.

you cried out from the sting and arched your back, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. “r-ran-”

“that’s a good girl, finally saying my name like i asked.” ran hummed against your jaw as he nipped at the skin there, bringing a heavy hand down against your ass again and making you jolt and whine.

suddenly his hands returned to your hips, and he moved you easily down onto the couch cushions, pushing your face into a throw pillow and hiking your hips up high. sometimes you wondered how he had the strength to move you around like you were nothing, but you were in no position to ask him at the moment. you felt dizzy as you hit the couch, hips wriggling and hands scrambling for purchase on the cushions.

you heard the clinking of ran’s belt behind you, feeling the warmed metal of the gucchi logo bump against your thigh as he slid it out of his belt loops. you felt one of his hands slide along your spine, rings dragging along your skin, the other coming down on your other ass cheek and making you yelp.

“brats like you need to be reminded of who you belong to, don’t you think?”

you went to respond, but again, you didn’t get a chance. ran’s two middle fingers swiped through your folds before pushing into your tight hole, scissoring you open roughly and stretching you out. you felt his rings bump against your pussy, the cold metal making you pulse around his digits.

“you get off on making me mad, don’t you? you like when i throw you around and spank this pretty ass?”

you nodded, and heard him stifle a laugh. “of course you do. sluts like you crave attention. that’s why you were all over takeomi tonight. i heard he gets real rough on girls. you want me to be rougher? huh? answer me.”

you were drooling against the pillows as his fingers hooked into you in the right spots, dragging along your gummy walls and filling the large living room with the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. you found it in yourself to nod, head turning to press your cheek into the pillow and try to get a better glimpse of ran bending over your back.

this time, he did laugh, removing his fingers and popping them in his mouth for a taste. you clenched around nothing, feeling so empty without his fingers filling you just right. “all you had to do was ask, brat. you didn’t need to go and make me angry.”

there was a pause as you heard him fumble with the fabric of his slacks, leaving you trembling in front of him. knowing he was still mostly dressed while you were completely nude in front of him almost made you bashful, wanting to shy away from him as he freed his cock and slapped the tip against your clit.

“beg.”

“ran! ran, please, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have gotten close to ‘omi, jus’ wanted you to be rough, i’m sorry, please fuck me!” the words tumbled from your wet lips so effortlessly, thrumming at the feeling of ran’s cock sliding slowly through your folds as he listened to you whine.

he slapped his hand down against your ass, and you swore the rings on his fingers would leave bruises in the morning with indents of the hard metal bands. he grasped both globes of your ass and spread you open for him, cock pressed up against your dripping hole as he had you exposed in front of him.

you heard him gather spit between his lips before it dripped down onto your pussy, cold and tantalizing, as if he was further lubing you up.

“wanted me to be mean to you? shoulda just said that.”

you babbled incoherently until finally, finally, he popped the head of his cock into your cunt and bullied his long length all the way in.

you moaned, already starting to shake as he started a rough pace. his hand repeatedly came down on your ass, making you shake and cry out under him. if it was possible, you knew he’d be in your guts.

he filled you perfectly, slamming himself into your sweet spot over and over again. he bent his body over your back, the fabric of his shirt scratching against your skin as he moved one of his hands to shove three fingers into your mouth. he pressed on your tongue and made you gargle and gag around his digits, smiling meanly at your teary face.

“see, brat? this is what happens when you get me mad. this what you needed tonight? just needed to get fucked so hard you can’t see? can’t - fuck - think? squeezin’ me so tight, don’t tell me you wanna cum already.”

you did. his words, the spanking to your ass, it had you spinning and flying close to the edge within minutes. ran was chuckling breathlessly at you, gritting his teeth from how tight you were squeezing his cock.

he fucked into you hard and rough, tip of his cock carving a home inside your tight walls. your ass stung, each smack sending you closer and closer. you choked on his fingers when he pushed them further back into your mouth, almost into your throat.

“fine, slut. go ahead, cream all over my cock. cum. fucking cum.”

you practically screamed. well, you would have, had there not been three fingers in your mouth making you gag and drool all over his hand. your whole body shook as your eyes rolled back, pleasure washing over you like a tsunami’s wave hits the coast.

ran did not stop. he didn’t slow down, not for a second.“we’re not done here. you wanted mean, you’ll get mean.”

#ran haitani x reader #ran x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — ran haitani #♤ — message from owner

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angelinpiink · 1 year

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ex boyfriend! eren headcannons ࿐ྂ。

❥ note: as a disclaimer, these headcanons are a bit toxic/dark, if that is something you find triggering i recommend you skip this one, you can find other works of eren that don't have this particular theme here just want to make it clear that i do not condone this sort of behavior and this doesn't represent my idea of what a healthy relationship should look like thank you and enjoy

Firstly, eren doesn't even consider you guys to be actually broken up, he’s convinced. you’re just screwing with him or playing hard to get. Even once he realizes you're not, the breakup is still completely one sided. He loves you far too much to even fathom that the relationship is over. He’s already planned your entire future together–he's been doing so since he first met you, from the house you'll live in together to the garter you'll be wearing on your wedding day. In short, he’s delusional when it comes to you, head over heels or do he likes to call it and for this reason he still goes around telling everyone you're his.

Everyone around him, including his friends is obviously taken aback by this and so they sort of just play along, listening to him rant about you the moment he’s gotten enough alcohol in his system. This happens at every get together they have had since the breakup. “she’s just confused and going through a tough time right now. She doesn't know that she wants me,” he’ll say anytime he hears about you having moved on with anyone else. If anyone even has the courage to challenge his statements he has the habit of angrily shutting them down. “Shut the hell up, you don't know anything about our relationship.”

He spends the first few days blowing up your phone with texts about how much he loves you and that though your relationship has had its ups and downs – him being the one who’s mostly responsible for the downs, you guys will get through it as you always had if you just keep trying. When he received no response ,he changed his approach, no longer attempting to convince you to stay but now begging you to come back home. “Come back to me please..” he’ll bombard your voicemail inbox with pleas and sob stories about how he hasn't slept because he misses holding you each night.

Weeks or even months will pass since the break up itself, and every second of his time he uses to reach out to you, whether it's through phone calls or text. You better believe he's taking time to check up on you to see how you're doing–most importantly, what you're doing and who you're with. He wants to make sure you're safe and not in the hands of any trouble or anyone he considers trouble. He has a habit of speaking with you as though you two are still together, ending many conversations with “i love you.” and “hope to see you soon.” When he isn't reaching out to you he's thinking about you or talking to you about whatever poor soul is forced to listen.

When he hears it from you that you’ve moved on to someone else, his heart shatters. He had been able to deny and ignore the reality when he heard it from others but now that it was coming from you he had lost the energy to keep pretending to be okay with how things were, he feels as though you’re betraying him. In his eyes you were cheating by being with another. Still, he doesn't make it known then and there, instead he responds with. “He can't love you the way I do.” and beyond that point he stops reaching out, and waits for you to come running back.

You'll learn the hard way that he was right when you are riding back to his place drunk with tears running down your cheeks because you caught the very person you’d moved onto cheating on you with another girl. Once you two arrive, he carries you into the apartment where the two of you had shared many memories together, because you are too drained from the events of the day to walk. He takes off your makeup using the makeup remover you’d ‘left behind’ when you moved out. Really, he stole it out of your things, along with other items because he was certain you’d come back to him under such circumstances.

He takes you into his arm, holding you so close and so tight to him because he’s afraid that you’ll leave him again as you cry in his arms. “Don't know what i was thinking” his fingers stroke your hair. “You weren't. but you should have known better.” eren isn't too interested in giving you his sympathy because he feels he’s the one been betrayed the most here. If only you hadn't run off with someone else, none of this would be happening.

“I warned you,” he added. “I'm so sorry..” you sniffled, he swiped away your tears. his way of speaking to you had caused a wave of guilt to wash over you, you had left eren behind only to end up being made to look like a fool because you thought the grass was greener on the other side. Though he was upset with you, Eren hated seeing you cry. especially over someone he didn't believe deserved your tears. “Make it up to me then.” a weight lifted off your shoulders at the offer of redemption. Little did you know, he plans to have you crying tears of another kind.

❥ nsfw (things get sexual from here, if you are not comfortable with this kind of content pls turn back)

Before you know it, he’s ripped your dress off you, both your clothes and underwear are thrown about the hallway leading to the bedroom you used to share. He hasn't made a single change to anything since your absence and you find yourself feeling nostalgic, thinking back to a time where things werent easy but never this complicated. you're on the bed exposed and bear before him. He hovers between your legs. “Been so long since i've seen you like this, god i've missed it so much.” he’ll coo, his emerald gaze admiring your glistening folds that have spread with his fingers. the way your cunt throbbed under the lightest of touch, begging to be filled made him grow hard. “Missed you too.” you mutter, hazily bucking your hips against his touch.

“I know. I know.” he reassures you, giving into your silent demands, he continues toying with you, pushing his fingers past your folds,his finger strokes at your clit. “bet that boyfriend of yours didn't know how to take care of this needy little cunt, did he.” your juices now coating his fingers, he pounds you with them, earning a symphony of moans from your lips. “not like i do..” he says, the satisfaction of you being so reactive to his touch bringing a smile to his face, your back arching as his movements become overwhelming for you. He soon pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his cock, that had been aching to be inside of you for far too long.

He pushes one of your legs outward, granting him more access to your sweet hole, He pushes deeper inside of you all self control leaving his body the moment he hears you cry out for him, tears welling in your eyes from pleasure as he fucks into you. “So pretty, gonna fill you up with my cum.” he groans,the moment he feels you clenching around his cock, your thighs trembling. He threw his head back as he rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, admiring you in such a state.

“Eren, you can't!” You shriek, his fingers gripping at your hips harshly. He continues fucking you hard and deep, his hips smashing against your own. “cant cum inside you?” he’ll question. he continues to pound you, this is his way of letting you know he has no intention of pulling out.

“but i thought you were sorry? I thought you were mine?”There is a heartbroken tone in his voice as he speaks to you, hoping for you to reassure him you meant the words you'd spoken earlier. You were left feeling guilty for even thinking you should have denied him. after everything you’d already done to hurt him. You had said you would make it up to and part of that required doing as he wanted. “I am!”

“shut up and take my cum then, you said you’re mine. gotta prove it. this pussy is mine too, right baby?” you nodded in agreement, tellinf him whatever he needed to hear to keep fucking you so good, muttering the best “mhm, i love you so so much!” you could muster while being overtaken by your orgasm as eren came inside of you, the creamy liquid dripping out of you and down your thighs. “You're not going anywhere, not now, not ever, I won't let you.”

Eren, Who was responsible for it all, and had developed a plan for each failed talking stage you had. since leaving him and most importantly the breakup due to your boyfriend cheating– from his actions of intimidating them into leaving you alone with threats of physical attacks or the videos he sent them of him devouring your cunt, while you cried out his name, your fingers tugging at his brunette strands of hair. A video which had been recorded so long ago when the two of you were still together, but the idiot, who you had made the mistake of calling a boyfriend, hadn't even bothered to verify that your nails hadn't been any color you had been since you'd meeting him. perhaps, he simply didn't care enough. it was of no big importance to eren either way, in his eyes the fool wasn't deserving of you. Just as eren believed to be the case since the beginning, he was the only one who’d love you the way you deserved and for this reason he was never going anywhere.

here’s my masterlist

#eren smut #eren headcanons #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #attack on titan x y/n #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan smut

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kitkatscabinet · 6 months

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TikTok made me do it

Pairings: 141 boys x gn! reader

Summary: With the kind of relationship that came with having a partner on deployment so often you've had to find ways to entertain yourself. TikTok provides a way to take your mind off things, it even gives you a few ideas to try out when he gets home. An opportunity finally arises when your partner won't pay attention to you no matter how pouty you get.

A/N: NSFW themes, minors jog on. @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

KYLE GARRICK

Kyle's always been an attentive lover, and any other day he'd drop everything when you called for him. Unfortunately, when it came to video games you often inadvertently became second place. The current culprit for stealing your boyfriend's attention? Baldur's Gate 3.

You're not entirely sure what's enraptured him so much given that he's hardly an avid DnD player but he's even kicked you off your own PC to play. You're softened a little by the fact he's made the player character in your image and has even downloaded mods to get it as close to reality as possible

The flattery quickly wears off when three days pass and Kyle barely glances your way. You'd even had to drag him into bed one night and he'd quickly fallen asleep on you, leaving you high and dry and so fucking horny.

You quickly decide that enough is enough. When the next day rolls around and you wake to Kyle already gone from your side and sat in your gaming chair you decide to pull out the big guns. You'd seen the trend floating around on TikTok for a while and decided it wouldn't hurt to try.

A quick shower later and you were covered in the lotion you knew drove Kyle wild. It's not until you reach the threshold of your door, naked as the day you were born that you decide to capture his reaction on film.

"Kyle, baby." Predictably he doesn't look your way, instead letting out an inquisitive hum and you hear the faint shout of 'ignis' from the speakers. Rolling your eyes you clear your throat, watching his reaction through your phone as you put a little more authority into your voice "Kyle, I need to show you something."

Luckily he knows better than to ignore that tone of voice, and you watch as his wide eyes get even wider when he takes in your nude form. Confidence sparks in your bones when you notice the way his gaze drags slowly down your chest, his teeth pulling on his bottom lip.

The game is completely forgotten he stands and walks confidently but still quickly towards you, hands settling on your hips. "What's this then? You feeling a little needy darling?" You nod breathlessly at his growled words, shivering when one of his hands cups your ass. "Sorry for ignoring you, let me make it up to you yeah?" He's dropping to his knees and you very quickly stop filming, throwing your phone somewhere across the room to be retrieved later.

It's not until a few days later that you notice your phone blowing up with notifications that you realise Kyle has posted the video himself. When you confront him about it he just gives you a smug smirk, "Did you think I didn't know what you were doing?"

JOHN MACTAVISH

Usually, you had to fight off Johnny to get a moment of alone time when he was home. It's why you're so perturbed when for the first time in your relationship you have to start chasing after him a little.

There had been instances in the past when your boyfriend became so focused on tasks that he'd forget the rest of the world existed, even then all it normally took to get his attention was to sit on his lap or call his name a certain way.

Not this time. Johnny wasn't the biggest gamer, he enjoyed playing here and there but nothing usually held his focus consistently for that long. Turns out that when it came to multiplayer with some of his teammates he couldn't get enough. Why this was the case when he's just spent months at a time in enclosed quarters with them you weren't sure, you'd joke that he was cheating on you with Kyle if you knew it wouldn't upset him greatly.

Of the two of you, Johnny was the sex addict, not that he'd been ignoring you. No, Johnny had still found time before bed but usually, where he'd go a few rounds he'd only give you one or two. You'd woken up that morning so horny and you couldn't wait. Commiserating with one of your friends over text they sent you a TikTok of one of the latest trends and said you should do it, joking that you'd have to send them the footage.

Immediately you're on board, promising to send the footage because both you and your friend know it will be hilarious. And hilarious it is, he's in the middle of a game, swearing over the mic his angry voice accented even more so than usual.

You have to shout a little to be heard over him and while he stops speaking he doesn't tear his eyes from the screen, "What's it babe? 'M in the middle of a game."

"I can see that" you whisper under your breath before putting on the tone that was reserved for when Johnny pissed you off. "John Mactavish look at me right now," you faintly hear Kyle ooohing from his headphones and Johnny instantly whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck.

You can't stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips when his eyes bulge out of his head. Controller dropped, he stands so fast his socks slip a little on the wooden floor. It doesn't deter him however and he attempts to launch himself towards you. There are several issues with this, his headphones are still on and you wince as his head jerks back slightly and he trips over the foot of his chair.

He's on his feet nearly instantly and you let out a squeal as he pounces on you, "naughty rascal," He nips at your ear. You don't make it to the bedroom.

SIMON RILEY

It wasn't that Simon was ignoring you, in fact, it was pretty much the first time since he'd come home that he wasn't touching you. Still, Soap had sent you a TikTok with a particular trend, trying to bet that you wouldn't do it.

You weren't a bitch so nearly immediately you stripped, strutting out into the kitchen with your phone ready to capture the moment Simon realised what you were doing.

You don't even have to call his name and he's turning to face you, forgetting whatever he'd been slicing on the cutting board and leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. A smirk tugged at the corner of his pink lips, making the scars on his cheek twitch with the movement.

"Trying to seduce me Lovie? The fuckin I gave you this morning not enough?" Your skin runs hot at his words, stomach muscles clenching with an embarrassing amount of need from that one sentence. For fear of your words failing you simply nod your head, moving closer the second he beckons you.

"Needy little thing" he croons into your ear, wrapping one of his large hands around your neck. You choke on the whine that builds in your throat and you're powerless to do anything but go pliant in his grip as he spins you around and pushes you down against the cool bench.

It's not until hours later that you realise that when Simon took your phone he hadn't stopped filming. (Soap nearly throws his phone at Price's face when it clicks what he's watching.)

JOHN PRICE

It's not often that John brings his work home. The office he's currently holed up in with the mountain of paperwork is yours. Of the two of you, he's actually more irritated than you. Grumbling under his breath as you push him out of your bed and make him do the work.

A few times during the day when you'd walked past the open door to see him scowling with his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose you'd managed to make out the faint noises of him growling about work interrupting the sanctity of his home. Interrupting time that should have been spent fucking you.

Though you were the one that had pushed him into completing his work you can't help but get more and more heated each time you pass and witness him so worked up.

You try and stave off the arousal with a cold shower in the middle of the day. Drying yourself off, you collapse on your bed, not bothering to put any clothes on again.

An hour passes, occupied with scrolling on TikTok, spamming your friends with just about every video on your fyp. Checking the time you throw your head back with a groan, it's only been four hours but it feels like an eternity.

Sliding off the mattress you decide to stick your head into check on John one more time. To your surprise, he doesn't notice your bare form standing in the doorway. An idea springs to your mind and you quietly walk back to get your phone.

You manage to film yourself walking back and forth past the office, focusing your phone on John's concentrated face as you try not to laugh, a total of four times.

It's after the fifth time past that you somehow don’t notice that he's finally left the desk and snuck up behind you until warm calloused hands cup your chest. His beard scratches against your spine and you throw your phone in surprise at the unexpected sensation.

"What a sight for sore eyes you are" he rumbles, one hand moving torturously slowly down your belly, pausing just above your navel. He plants wet kisses down your back, only pausing to occasionally grumble out something filthy.

"John! What about your paperwork?" Your words are weak and lacking in any real concern but your husband simply hums dismissively.

"Paperwork can wait love, it's time I had a lunch break anyway."

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader x simon riley #kyle garrick #gaz call of duty #simon riley #john mactavish #john price

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lovelybunnyxx · 3 months

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Mistakes ― Illumi Zoldyck

TW: Yandere Illumi Zoldyck, Implied Kidnapping, Implied forced marriage, escape attempt.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Perhaps taking the 287th Hunter's Exam had been a mistake.

Maybe the mistake was you not being careful enough, deciding to sit next to Gittarackur as you waited for your friends to complete the third stage of the exam, trying to have a friendly conversation with him while he just stared at you blankly. Maybe you should have run when your friends finally arrived instead of waving goodbye at him with a friendly smile on your face.

But then again, maybe it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

Perhaps you were always going to end up here, running barefoot through the freezing forests surrounding the Zoldyck mansion, with only the faint illumination of the moon to guide your path. Your lungs hurt, begging for you to pause to catch your breath, but you know that if you do, your freedom will be stolen from you once again. So, you force yourself to keep going, trying your hardest to ignore just how badly your feet sting from all of the sharp rocks and twigs you have run over in your escape attempt.

You have bid your time well, remaining on your 'best behavior' so that you could earn privileges: being able to leave the bedroom Illumi had you locked in, even earning some 'outside time' in the garden once a day as long as Illumi accompanied you. You have been so well-behaved, in fact, that Illumi informed you this morning that he was going on a mission and would not be back until tomorrow. Finally, a chance of escape, the first one you have had since Illumi stole you from your apartment in the middle of the night. You would have been a fool to let it pass you up.

He had left the servants to watch over you, of course, but it hadn't been too difficult to get some time alone with the excuse that you wished to bathe. The servants had left you alone for a moment to grab you a cloth and towel, and you took the chance to jump out the window and run. It was easier than you expected, almost too easy.

The entire escape, in fact, has been much easier than it should have been. The servants did not ask questions when you requested to bathe in a bathroom on the first floor, the window was left unlocked, and you do not hear signs of anyone chasing after you. Perhaps, if you were not so caught up in trying to escape as quickly as possible, you would have realized that the entire thing felt too easy. Maybe you would have noticed that something was wrong.

But you don't notice. Not until you finally reach the testing gate, so busy trying to figure out how to open it, that you don't realize you're not alone until Illumi grabs your arms. "Oh dear," Illumi sighs, tilting his head absentmindedly. "You tried to run, after all. You have been doing so well, I had hoped you were learning to accept your place as my wife, but it appears I was wrong."

"L-Let me go!" You try your hardest to escape his grip, but his hold is firm like a wall. Your struggling just makes his lips twitch upwards slightly in amusement, and his grip around your arms tighten.

"...I suppose it just means you need more training," Illumi says, pushing some strands of hair behind your ear. "But don't worry, dear. I'm sure that I'll be able to teach you how to be the perfect wife soon enough."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #illumi x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere illumi x reader #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck x reader #yandere hxh x reader

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apollos-calliope · 2 months

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a change of heart - luke castellan x child of iris!reader

warnings: betrayal scene, heartbreak, injuries, sword-fighting, uncontrollable angst the reader should be gender neutral and this is proofread, but i might’ve made some mistakes! please let me know if there is and i’ll fix it asap

word count: 2k

DISCLAIMER: some of the dialogue from this story is from episode 8 of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series on Disney+. this is because i wanted the reader to feel as if they were experiencing the scene first hand. since i fear the disney conglomerate, this dialogue is highlighted in orange

you stood in between percy and annabeth in the doorway of cabin 14, listening to luke’s explanation of what was going on. as far as you knew, clarisse had stolen the master bolt, percy was accused of it, and poseidon had just surrendered to zeus and called off the war. you had stayed at camp the entire summer to you had learned quickly to not question things that happened in the demigod world, accepting each new piece of information nearly immediately as it came. as a friend and a dedicated helper, you took to offering your help any time luke needed to release stress, whether verbally or physically. over time, your friendship started to evolve into a situationship. instead of quiet nights whispering about your parents’ involvement in your trauma and sparring in the arena until bruises formed across your limbs, it became quiet nights kissing in the empty cabins during the bonfires and pulling each other behind the trees by the wrist. it seemed as if your lips were the only thing that could soothe the permanent wrinkle in between luke’s eyebrows. you could tell something serious was going on, but it was easier to let him brood and offer comfort than to force it out of him. he was the most stubborn man you’d ever met, after all. he began the clarisse slander after the first call with the demigods. you had been distant since then. it was easier to be around him when he was pushed up against a tree with his pretty lips doing something other than talking.

in terms of the quest, it only seemed right to keep the communication flowing smoothly between the young demigods and camp. as head counselor of the iris cabin, it was also your job to give luke access to your mother’s fountain. he took over the role of mentor, probably because of his need to protect annabeth. you didn’t believe that clarisse had stolen the master bolt: in fact, you vehemently denied it. she was one of your closest friends at camp, and you had spent more of the summer with her than any of the others. other than luke, that was.

“an accusation against clarisse-“ luke began, before being promptly interrupted.

“without proof,” annabeth injected, putting a little extra emphasis on each word.

“exactly,” he smiled at his little sister. “without proof, it would have lit this whole place on fire. but now you’re back. i want to tell chiron, but i need it to be private so that we can speak without any of clarisse’s friends noticing.”

“one is present, castellan,”you retorted, nearly hissing at him.

“i’ll keep an eye on clarisse while you’re gone. make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” annabeth gave you a knowing glance, watching your glare soften when you turned to her.

“great. And we’ll meet back here,”luke decided. he leaned over to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, completely ignoring everyone’s look of shock (including your own). then he and percy were gone, and you and annabeth were standing alone.

“reckon that cap might be of use?” you winked at her to fend off the inevitable questioning coming your way.

nestled in the trees, you listened carefully to percy and luke below you. it was hard to hear them over the whipping of the wind: a sign that the nature surrounding you had detected a strange energy. something was off. you concentrated on the space around you, waiting for the wind to quiet. and it did, softening to a lull humming until eventually it faded out. you heard the boys beneath you.

“talk about a celebration. they really pulled out all the stops for you. come on, you’ve said, like, two words since we left the cabins,”you hear luke say as they settle in the clearing. you notice a hint of disdain in his tone, likely jealousy. he’s always wanted the glory, the celebration.

“just… thinking about what the oracle said. that I’ll fail to save what matters most in the end.”

poor percy didn’t ask for any of this. he was so worried about his mom. despite being at camp since you were a toddler, you understood how important family could be. that’s why you hung on so hard when the other iris campers arrived. you couldn’t imagine losing a sibling, let alone knowing a parent well enough to lose them.

“you're thinking about your mom. i get that. believe me, i do. but prophecies? those things are so vague.“

you glanced over to where annabeth stood invisible: you knew she was forming the same conclusions you were. luke fidgeted in a more frantic way than normal, which only happened when he was nervous. luke was almost never nervous and everyone knew it. percy seemed none the wiser to his cracking facade, though.

“the quest is over, and everything the oracle said has either come true or makes sense.”

‘or it was about to,’ you thought. you weren’t surprised, or hurt, to be completely honest. you had noticed things were off since the solstice, but never felt close enough to luke to pass it off like it was reasonable to ask. he had a reasonable cause, too.

“has it?” luke questioned percy.

“you shall go west and face the god who has turned,” he says slowly, as if luke was being unreasonable for asking him to confirm.

“ares. okay.”

“find what was stolen and see it returned."

“clearly the bolt.”

"and you shall be betrayed... by one who calls you a friend!” it hits him. “well, the reason clarisse is still here is because…”

“you never said anything to chiron about her. did you?” luke begins to explain himself; percy interrupts him.

“you couldn't... because you knew clarisse didn't steal the bolt. you did.”

water began to pool in the eyes of the boy you had trusted with your body, with your heart. you doubted he really wanted to do it. he must have been forced.

“you worked with ares to plant it on me so when the shoes you gave me pulled me down into tartarus, the bolt would be delivered right to kronos.”

the shoes. he wanted to kill percy? percy, the innocent little boy you met at the beginning of the summer. after he arrived you held his hand in the infirmary so he wouldn’t have to be alone. he was only 12, and forced to go on a quest as soon as he figured out his heritage. a child, forced to traumatize himself for the sake of the “greater good”. you sent him with a handful of drachmas for your mother’s fountain, a small pack of ambrosia, a kiss on the forehead, and a remember that his safety was most important. grover got a small tube of ointment for his horns, just because you knew he scratched them. he got a hug - he technically was older than you after all. you refused to let annabeth go, pretending to cry dramatically as you slipped a small pouch into the palm of her hand. you closed her fist around it as percy pulled you away from her hug. you were beyond relieved when they returned. you had kissed luke the second you found out, thrilled that your family was safe. the two of you had never kissed for the purpose of anything but frustration or stress relief. he had seemed so happy. luke had seemed to love percy as much as you did, but maybe he loved with less of his heart.

“i didn't think you'd give 'em to grover to wear.”

the crack of his voice told you everything you needed to know.

“i am your friend. percy, none of this was meant to betray you. the gods are my enemy. you... i'm here to recruit.”

“recruit?” percy tilted his head, confused.

you flinched as luke unsheathed his sword, the metal making a noise as it hit the air. percy reached for the pen in his pocket, pushing the button. it configured itself into his sword. luke took a step back.

“easy. i don't wanna fight. this is what I wanted to show you . this... is our way out.”

“way out of what?”

“camp.” luke slices through the air and it ripples like satin, the forest peeling back for a second before returning to its original state. there sat a long, glowing neon gash.

“and their control. backbiter can open secret doors. we can stay on the run as long as it takes.” he was planning to leave you here? he had told you earlier in the summer that he would do anything to keep you safe. he had a similar look in his eyes back then.

“stop saying ‘we.’” percy chokes a little, and you knew he felt conflicted.

“it’s the word zeus fears the most. the gods want us to fight for them, worship them, fear them. and they couldn't care less what we want. they're bad parents, percy. and they've gotten away with it for far too long.”

he wasn’t wrong. you had never seen the gods care for their children at more than base need. some campers stayed in the hermes cabin permanently unclaimed. the relationship you all had with the gods was less than sufficient.

“no. this isn't you. this is kronos. he got to you.”

“no, he opened my eyes to the truth. a golden age. that's what they called it when he ruled. we're gonna help kronos bring the golden age back.” he cuts an identical length gash next to the first. “stealing the bolt and the helm was easy. for what comes next... we're gonna need all the help we can get,” he admitted.

for the first time since luke arrived at camp three years after you, you saw genuine childlike whimsy in his eyes. he was hopeful for a future of fairly treated demigods. he was incredible. he seemed to glow with the fireworks and the cuts in the air, illuminated by his newfound mission.

percy wasn’t having any of it. as luke raised his sword to connect his previous work, percy lunged to stop him. luke parried easily, turning to face the young boy. they pointed their swords at each other.

“our parents aren't perfect, but they're trying their best.”

luke lowers his arm slightly, curious.

“i met your dad.”

wrong move.

“but he…” luke dived back into the fight, celestial bronze clanging on - steel? why was luke using a weapon that could hurt mortals? for a second they stood still. luke’s sword pinned percy’s.

“you did get better,” he mentioned as riptide’s blade scraped against backbiter’s. luke started to advance more aggressively, pushing percy back against one of the trees. “last chance.”

this was starting to get a little too dangerous.

percy shoved him out of the way with his hands, using luke’s lack of balance to land a hit on his stomach. as soon as he realized his mistake, he froze.

“i’m sorry. I didn't mean to...” luke bounced up immediately, using the momentum to make a long cut on percy’s forearm. with percy on the ground, luke approaches his figure. backbiter is raised into the air, poised to swing. you hear the dagger before you see it, jumping from the tree.

“luke!” you hit the ground as annabeth whipped off her hat. the noise of the forest quieted to a lull hum as luke looked at annabeth first. when he turned to you, the tears started to roll from his deep eyes. you were already at percy’s side, pulling ambrosia from your backpack.

“annabeth? y/n?”

“we heard everything.” annabeth admits, heartbroken. years of having a friend, having a brother - gone.

you get a really good look at him in that moment. his eye bags drop lower than they ever have before, scooping up into the hollowness of his cheekbones from the times you missed him at the dining pavilion. his face was red and agitated from the tears. what a beautiful tragedy. in that moment you loved him. he needed to be loved. he was a broken, abandoned child. just like you. just like every other kid at this camp forced to give away their lives to a cause they didn’t ask to support.

“wait - luke.” percy and annabeth turned toward you with shock. you squeezed percy’s hand one more time, mouthing ‘i love you’ to the both of them before standing up and facing your fate.

“i want to go with you.”

you could only hope that annabeth would open that pouch when she needed it.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #cal's writing!#pjo series #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

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george-weasleys-girl · 4 months

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Omg my poor baby George!!

Could I please get a George x Reader fic where the reader is stuck/stranded with the weasleys for Christmas and George keeps going out of his way to cheer her up and make sure she’s comfortable because he has feelings for her and the family all notice? Maybe they find themselves under some mistletoe? 💖💖

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Snowstorm

Fred and Ginny stood in the kitchen with their arms crossed.

"You rummaged around in the attic for half an hour to find an old Christmas stocking so she'd have one on Christmas morning," Fred began.

"You talked mum into making her favorite soup last night," Ginny continued.

"And now you've baked her favorite cookies," Fred grabbed one off the plate.

"Stop that! Those are for Y/N, " George swatted at his twin, who only laughed.

"We think you've got a little crush," Ginny grinned, swiping a cookie.

George moved the plate of cookies away from his siblings. "I have no idea what you're talking about. First off, she's my employee. And second, if I hadn't asked her to stop by on her way out of town, she wouldn't be stuck here. I'm just trying to make it up to her."

"Yeah, I bet you're all broken up about being snowed in with Y/N," Fred snickered.

George rolled his eyes. "Why don't you two stop pestering me and go find something useful to do?" He grabbed the plate of cookies and pushed past them.

~•~

"These are SO good. Some of the best I've ever had." Y/N helped herself to another cookie. "I didn't know you baked."

George grinned. "I'm full of surprises."

"Inventor, businessman, and baker. You're quite the rennaissance man," she complemented.

"What can I say - " George began but was distracted by Fred, Ginny, and now Ron and Harry all standing under the mistletoe making kissy faces.

"Everything ok?" Y/N asked, turning to see what her boss was glaring at, but the quartet had scattered.

~•~

One thing Y/N could say with certainty is that Weasley family knew how to celebrate the holiday. Christmas day turned out to be a raucous event of laughter, food, and a few drunken carols.

"I'm happy you're having a good time," George confessed.

"Thanks, me too," Y/N smiled. "Hey, um," she continued after a moment. "Thanks for taking such good care of me these past few days."

George beamed. "You're important - er, it was, you know, important to me that you enjoyed yourself. I know how disappointed you were not to spend the holiday with your family."

"It's okay," Y/N smiled again. "I'll see them on New Years. So, better late than never, right?"

"Right, yeah," George stammered.

Y/N nodded, uncertain what to say next, when Fred sauntered by. "Hey, look, mistletoe," he pointed over their heads.

George glared at his twin, then turned back to Y/N. "Ignore him. We don't have to do anything."

"Oh, um, well, it is tradition," Y/N ventured.

George's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah... yeah, it is... do you want to, uh - "

"Yeah, ok," she interjected.

"Right, ok," he nodded, leaning down, expecting a chaste kiss on the cheek. Instead, her lips connected with his, and he jumped back, fearing he'd messed up somehow.

"Wait," George silenced her. "That happened on purpose?"

Y/N's face blanched. "I, uh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have... you're my boss. It was stupid of me to think - "

"I... well. Yeah," Y/N admitted. "But, you're my boss... "

George grinned. "I don't care, if you don't."

Y/N looked up in surprise. "What?"

"I like you too. I have for a long time," he confessed. "And if it's ok with you, I'd like to kiss you again. Properly."

"Um, ok," she smiled. "I'd like that too."

The kiss was gentle and passionate and completely interrupted by the entire family clapping and cheering, with Fred yelling,"it's about damn time!"

George and Y/N pulled back red-faced and giggling. "Welcome to the Weasley family, love," he said and kissed her again.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @phant0mkitsune @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #hp fandom #hp universe

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bloatedandalone04 · 20 days

Text

Bets & Bargains - Part 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley hang out for a third time and are both left questioning whether or not a friendship could form between the two of you, or something else entirely.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.7k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was still thinking about the quick kiss you pressed to his cheek last night, even a whopping sixteen hours later.

Your lips felt soft and unfamiliar, but he found himself wanting to feel them again. And again.

You had only given him a small, friendly peck, but it was enough to have him driving back to the frat house with a semi that only got worse the longer he let himself think about you.

It was quite ridiculous, the effect you have on him. He felt like a teenager again, getting hard from just a kiss on the fucking cheek.

Still, you were his friend - at least he and you were on the way to being friends - and he didn’t want to let himself think about you like that.

He ended up taking a cold shower then going to bed, but to his surprise, he was still thinking about you when he woke up seven hours later. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? He was supposed to be bettering himself so he could get Bri back, but he was barely thinking about her lately.

Bradley grabbed his phone and sat up as he clicked onto his messages, and he saw that Bri hadn’t gotten back to him after he finally texted her a response yesterday.

Typical.

He wished he hadn’t texted her back, because now he had taken the bait she left out and looks like the one who can’t move on, when she so clearly had.

Instead of getting annoyed at her, though, he let his thoughts shift back to you, and he was clicking on your contact before he even realized it.

Would it be too weird to tell you that I thought about you all night?

Morning, by the way.

He figured he had nothing to lose, and if you were weirded out by what he said, then it was a good thing you and he had only hung out twice, so he wouldn’t be giving up too much.

But he should know by now that you two fit each other concerningly well, and how you weren’t one to be scared away by his forwardness.

Y/n: No way, I thought about you, too.

Y/n: Morning, btw.

Bradley felt a dumb grin form on his lips as he checked the time, seeing that it was nearing ten in the morning. He got up and lazily threw his sheets over his bed in a half-assed effort of making it, using his free hand to text you back.

So we’re both thinking about each other. Any suggestions on where to go from here?

He dressed himself in dark jeans and a flannel before throwing his backpack over his shoulder and making his way across campus to his class, and when he found an empty seat and sat down, the text he received from you left him smiling for the most part of the two hour class.

Y/n: Round three?

Bradley suggested a movie night at his place since his roommates won’t be home, and you were a bit nervous to go back there since you would be completely alone with him this time and not wedged between him and a wall like you were at the party.

You were also excited, because hanging out with him had been the most fun you’ve had since attending university, and you were in your second year now.

He didn’t need to know that, though.

You tuned out for most of your classes, and when you changed into a pair of sweats and a cropped tee, your phone went off. Thinking it was Bradley, you pick it up with a smile that immediately drops when you read the caller ID.

Luke.

Of course it was him.

Even though you were actively ignoring him, he still wasn’t getting the hint that the relationship was over. You knew you needed to send him a final text and set things straight, because you were ready to move on, and he was making it harder than it should be.

Please stop texting me. We’re done, Luke. I will always be grateful for you and our time together, but it’s time we both move on. I wish you the best.

That sounded nice, right? You hoped so, anyway. You didn’t want to hurt Luke; you simply wanted him to get the message and stop contacting you until you were both over each other. Maybe you could be friends later down the road, but that was a hard maybe. You were never friends with Luke, you went from strangers pretty much right to dating.

You wanted to take your time with your next relationship, whether that was with Bradley or not. Though, you couldn’t be blamed for hoping that he is your next.

With no further communication with Luke, you pocket your phone and start the walk across the reasonably big campus and towards Bradley’s frat house, and you smirk at the reminder of why you set his contact name as Fratley.

You reach the front steps and knock on the door, second guessing your choice of outfit and wondering if it was too casual, but what else were you supposed to wear for a movie night? Comfy casual? Or uncomfortable non-casual?

When Bradley opened the door in a similar outfit, you felt better about yours, and the not so subtle way he looked you up and down definitely had your worries disappearing and your face heating up. “Hi,”

“Hi,” he said back and opened the door a bit further. “Took you long enough, I’ve been cleaning for the last hour and a half.”

You cover your mouth with a quiet laugh and step into the house. “You mean this place doesn’t look like the aftermath of a party all the time?”

Bradley playfully scoffed. “Do you think I enjoy living in that filth? I hibernate in my room half the time to avoid seeing what new mess the guys made,”

You laugh again and follow him into the living room. It looked a lot bigger than the last time you saw it, without all the people, and it was actually quite nice. “Well, I’m not sure how long you spent cleaning in here, but…” You turn to smirk at him, finding him already looking at you. “Good job.”

He holds his arms out and leans down in a bow. “Thank you,” he returned your smirk. “Did it all for you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was thinking about you.”

You blush and look away before he could see the effect his words have on you. “It’s nice to see this place not crowded,” you change the subject and move to sit on the couch. “I can’t believe we met at a party here.”

Bradley stays where he is, the smirk still painted on his lips as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen, I would have agreed to that party a lot sooner,”

You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re full of it,”

He laughs and gestures to the doorway that leads to the kitchen. “You pick the movie and I’ll grab the snacks. Are you feeling like soda or something stronger?”

You debate it for a few seconds and come to the conclusion that you don’t want to be drunk this time around, but one drink wouldn’t hurt. “How about one beer and one soda?” You suggest and he nods with a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen.

Your face was still a bit hot as you sat by yourself, and you knew you needed to get a grip. Bradley was just another guy; a cute, funny and confident guy.

Yeah, you were fucked.

Bradley still hadn’t come back when your phone went off, and when you saw that it was Sam calling you, you declined it and opened your text thread with her to let her know that you were busy at the moment. Then she beat you to it.

Sammy: YOU BROKE UP WITH LUKE????

Your heart dropped a bit, though you’re not sure why. You didn’t just break up with Luke, the break up happened months ago, and Sam knows this.

Sammy: Y/n what the fuck

Sammy: You guys were supposed to work it out.

You scoff and type out a response, and you were a bit annoyed that Luke went running to his sister and your fucking roommate instead of moving on and letting things go like an adult would.

We broke up months ago, Sam. That’s not new news. I’m busy right now, so I can’t talk about this. And I don’t want to. I’ll see you at home later.

You lock your phone just as Bradley returns with three cans in one hand, and another can and a bowl of chips in the other. You were a bit impressed as you reached up to take the three cans from him with a laugh. “Wow, no need to show off,” you joked and he shook his head with a smile as he set the bowl down onto the coffee table.

“I don’t like making more than one trip,” he replied and you hum in agreement as you take a chip and watch as he sits next to you. He left very little room in between you, but you didn’t care a bit. This close proximity allowed you to inhale the piney scent of his cologne and see every fleck of gold in his brown eyes.

Oh yeah. You were seriously fucked.

Bradley’s plans of getting Bri back had been completely pushed to the back of his mind, and it’s been that way since he met you.

The more he thought about it, he realized he didn’t miss her as much as he did that morning she broke up with him. He was far too preoccupied with thoughts of you, and that scared him a bit for a few reasons.

One; he met you only a few days ago and has spent more time with you than he has with the majority of his friends.

Two; he was supposed to be focusing on trying to fix things with Bri but wasn’t putting much effort at all into that task at the moment as he sits literally right next to you on the couch.

And three; Eli and Wes might start to believe he’s actually going through with the stupid bet.

Which wasn’t what was happening at all. Yeah, you were the girl he drunkenly and stupidly picked when he came up with the bet, but he was hanging out with you because he wanted to. Not because he was planning on getting money out of it.

“Did you pick a movie?” He asked as you leaned back on the couch and opened your beer, and he couldn’t deny that he found the way you liked his favorite type of beer attractive. You were really attractive, there was no questioning that.

You freeze for a couple seconds before giving him a shy smile. “I did not,”

He laughed and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table and leaned back as well. “Well, pick something,” he said and handed you the remote.

“Why me?” You pout and flip through the possible options of movies. “I don’t know what kind of movies you like.”

“I’ll watch anything,” he shrugged and opened his beer, hoping the cold liquid would help ease his heated body. He had no idea why he reacted to you like this, but he felt like an out of control teen all over again for the second time this week.

You huff and skim through a few more comedies before settling on a horror movie from the 90s, and Bradley lifted a brow at your choice. “What?” You asked as you tossed the remote onto the cushion beside you and crossed your legs.

“Nothing,” he answered, nonchalantly draping his arm across the back of the couch. “I just didn’t take you as a scary movie girl.”

You scoff and glance up at him. “The scarier the better,” you say back and he swore you moved a little closer to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who can watch a horror film then sleep peacefully right after,” he challenged, daring to move his leg just an inch closer to yours.

You shrugged and gave him that unbelievably sexy smirk he loved seeing. “Like a baby,”

He refrained from asking you to marry him right then and there, and instead he shifted his attention to the TV mounted on the wall and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “You’re crazy,” he uttered as he kept his eyes on the screen.

You laugh quietly and sip on your beer as the movie begins.

Bradley had no idea when the small gap between his body and yours became non-existent, but as he held you against his side with his arm around your shoulders and your beers discarded, he didn’t care to know.

You were warm, and it might’ve been from the blanket he threw over the both of you, but he liked to think it was because you were feeling the same way he was.

Your body fits damn near perfectly with his, your height difference making it easy for him to hold you like this without his arm cramping up.

About an hour into the movie you had fallen asleep, your head pressed against his chest and your arm draped over his lap. You had shifted like that in your sleep, and he borderline loved the way your body reacted to his, even while you were sleeping. He turned the sound down a bit until he could barely hear it, but he didn’t mind the fact that he had to really strain to be able to understand what was happening.

Bradley felt himself falling asleep, too, when your phone lit up from its place on the coffee table. He didn’t mean to, but his gaze naturally shifted to the lit up screen and he accidentally ended up reading the text you received.

Luke: What a fucking waste of time, huh? We get into one fight and you just decide to check out? Fuck you, Y/n. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Bradley could only assume that Luke is your lovely ass of an ex boyfriend, and he felt his brows furrowing as a warmth settled over his face.

Who the fuck did this guy think he is? No wonder you broke up with him.

Bradley never talked to Bri like that, or really anyone for that matter, let alone someone he loved. Luke loved you? As if.

He wanted to grab your phone and call the fucker, but you shifted again and drew his attention away from your bad choice of a boyfriend. You pulled the blanket up further and nuzzled your face against the side of his neck, and he felt himself calming down a bit as your quiet and even breathing met his ears.

You were so sweet, how could anyone ever talk to you like that?

Without meaning to, Bradley fell asleep with his chin resting on the top of your head, and the next morning he had a pain in his neck so fucking bad, he nearly got up to take enough painkillers to knock him back out again so he could sleep it off.

Then he glanced down at you, still asleep on his chest, and he thought that maybe it was worth it since he got to wake up to the pretty sight.

The TV had turned off automatically during the night, leaving the living room dark as he had closed the curtains before you got here yesterday. He grabbed his phone and squinted at the brightness as he checked the time. It was almost nine in the morning, and he knew he needed to get ready for his class that was in about an hour, but he really did not want this little moment with you to end just yet.

Reluctantly, he gently began shaking your shoulder after a few more minutes had passed. “Y/n,” he quietly said, watching as you began to stir. “Wake up, babes.”

He didn’t mean to call you that, it just slipped out, but the way you slowly sat up and grinned over at him made him want to call you that all the time. “Morning, babes,” you greet in a hoarse voice, reaching up to rub at your eyes as the blanket falls from your shoulders. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,”

You gasped, “In the morning?”

“Yeah,” he laughed and began massaging his neck, trying to work out the kink he felt.

“Shit,” you mutter and grab your phone, making Bradley remember the rude text you got from Luke. He hated the fact that he knew what you would be reading the next time you checked your phone, and he wished he could’ve done something about it but knew it wasn’t his place. He’d let you tell him more about your ex if you wanted to, and he’d keep his opinions to himself for now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep and stay over.”

“It’s okay,” he waved you off and slumped back against the couch again. “You must’ve needed it. You slept for quite a while.”

You blush and smooth out your hair. “I should get going, I have class soon,”

Bradley nodded and watched as you stood up. “Do you want a ride back to your place? I’m going that way anyway,” he offered. “I need coffee.”

You laugh and look down at your casual outfit, which was strangely sexy to him. “You know, usually I’d turn down a three minute drive and just walk, but I don’t really want to be seen in this so early in the morning, so yeah,” you answer and pull the blanket off him, folding it and setting it aside.

He huffed out a laugh and stood up as well. “Let’s go then,” he said and began walking with you to the front door. “You look hot, by the way. You shouldn’t care what people see you in.”

You blush again and glance back into the living room, seeing the scattered beer and soda cans. “I can help clean up first,”

“No, it’s alright,” he grunted and grabbed his keys from off the table near the door. “I’ll do it later. I don’t ever make a mess, so the guys won’t get pissed at me for leaving it like that.”

Nodding, you step outside when he opens the door and walk out to the Jeep. Once you are inside, you turn to him with a small smile. “I keep saying this, but I had fun last night,” you say quietly as he reversed out of the driveway. “I know I fell asleep pretty early on, but still.”

Bradley laughed and put the car in drive. “I had fun, too,” he said. “You weren’t kidding about the whole ‘falling asleep after horror movies’ thing, huh?”

You covered your mouth as you laughed, too, and Bradley wondered why you often did that, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Nope,”

The drive was a short one, and two minutes later he was pulling up to your dorm and regretting not offering to walk with you instead of driving as it would’ve given him a few extra minutes with you.

He put the car in park then turned to you, meeting your eye as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride,” you say in a teasing tone.

Bradley laughed quietly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then he leaned in and kissed your cheek like you did with him after dinner at Five Guys, and when he pulled away he saw that a pretty blush had taken over your face again. “No problem,”

You smile again and hop out of the car, getting to the third step and hesitating for a few seconds before you turn around and make your way to the driver’s side door. You pull it open and grab a fistful of his shirt, guiding him into a kiss he was all too willing to accept. It didn’t last long, unfortunately, but it still left the both of you wearing dumb smiles when you pulled away. “I’ll see you later?” You whisper and he nods, reaching up to gently tug on your bottom lip before your smile grows and you step away, closing the door afterwards.

You give him a small wave before disappearing into the dorm and leaving Bradley with a heat deep in his body. He had to force himself to drive to the coffee shop a few minutes away, and then back home once he got his fix.

When he entered the house, he saw Eli sitting on the couch with a smirk on his face. “Fun night?” He asked as he nodded towards the cans and empty bowl. “Was it Bri?”

Bradley scoffed as he put his coffee cup down and began gathering up the cans. “No,” he answered and put the cans into the bowl. “Y/n.”

Eli’s smirk grew at that and Bradley instantly regretted telling him about you. “Ah, Y/n,” he laughed. “You really want that money, huh?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes. “No, actually, I don’t,” he replied and grabbed his coffee again. “I don’t want your stupid money, okay? I like Y/n, really. She’s nice and so not the person I thought she was.”

Eli just nodded but was still wearing that stupid smirk as he looked back down at his phone, and it made Bradley feel a bit uneasy.

“I’m not kidding,” he warned. “Let it go.”

Eli raised his hands in surrender. “I’m chilling, man,” he muttered but Bradley knew better.

But he refused to waste his time trying to get his friend to understand him when he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. So he just left him there and brought the bowl to the kitchen before getting ready for class, still thinking about the kiss he shared with you that he wished was so much longer.

He already couldn’t stop thinking about the peck you gave him on the cheek, but now he had gotten a taste of the real thing, and he was so close to throwing out every promise he made to himself about bettering himself for Bri and giving all his time to you.

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greg-montgomery · 10 months

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hiya!! this is my first time doing a request or anything like that buttt i wanted to ask if you could do one where the team is put up in a hotel for the night, everyone is sent to their own separate rooms but hotch called them in to his room bc he had some last minute thoughts about the case, right before they all go to sleep and y/n shows up in a cute sleep set and everyone is like oh but don’t say anything. they talk about the case for a bit and slowly everyone heads off one by one leaving aaron and y/n but plot twist she’s been quiet bc she snoozed off in the seat in the corner. aaron wakes her up and she apologizes, they start talking a little and she realizes how tired he looks and she idk gives him a massage on the shoulders, it can have innuendos in there but i mostly want her to take care of him, maybe they fall asleep together or something fluff it up plss 🫶🏽

hii!! <333 you're so sweet for sending to me your first request!! i'm sorry it took me a thousand years lmfao i really really hope you like it!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

With your eyes shut and both of your fists rubbing your eyelids softly as if they could take all the tiredness away, you weren’t able to see the looks your current outfit had earned you.

It wasn’t your usual attire for when discussing an unsub’s profile, but Hotch was the one to blame. You were getting ready for bed when JJ knocked on your door and announced that your boss wanted all of you urgently in his room. If he wasn’t your absolute soft spot, you’d be very pissed off about it.

Aaron seemed to have some new ideas about the case, and since the man apparently never slept, he thought all the rest of you would have the same energy as him. And maybe he wasn’t that far off for the others; but you were extremely tired, running only on three hours of sleep. So you just chose the comfiest looking spot on the couch of Hotch’s room and snuggled with two of the pillows you found there, simply observing the conversation that was taking place and only jumping in for a comment or two. It was already an achievement for you managing to stay awake for an extra hour.

Or so you thought.

“Y/N…” a gentle voice whispered your name. “Y/N…”

The hand on your shoulder shaking you, just as gently, suggested that said voice was trying to wake you up. But you were so comfortable and so sleepy you chose to ignore it. The whispers were lulling you back to sleep anyway.

Before you managed to drift off completely again, the hand moved to cup your face. A thumb was rubbing your cheek as the voice talked to you again. “You’ll hurt your neck.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and slowly blinked, finding the figure of a man sitting next to you. “Hotch?”

“Hi,” he chuckled. “I thought you’d never wake up.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you rushed to apologize. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“That’s alright.” He smiled at you.

Aaron was right about the neck thing, you could already feel the pain growing and you used your hand to massage it as you switched to a more appropriate sitting position on your boss’ couch.

“I tried to warn you,” he said, lifting his brows. “I wake up sore from every single jet nap.”

“Yeah, I noticed you couldn’t even turn your head when talking to us the other day,” you giggled.

“Don’t make fun of the elderly,” he scolded you. “I’m actually suffering from the pain."

“I’m sorry.”

You were still laughing so Hotch didn’t look entirely convinced by your apology. “Yeah, I can see how much.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you repeated more seriously this time. There was a short pause before you spoke again. “You know…I have a friend that’s a physiotherapist and she’s taught me how to relieve neck pain. I could give you a massage. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

He looked surprised by your offer and you worried you overstepped.

“It’ll be my official apology,” you added.

You saw him letting out a heavy sigh and got yourself prepared for rejection, but instead Aaron nodded, “Sure, why not?”

“Nice!” you clapped twice, hoping you didn’t seem overly excited at the thought of touching him that intimately.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t fixated on his large body and broad shoulders. So placing your palms on his toned muscles had your heart racing to the point you were scared he could hear your heartbeat.

Aaron’s heavy breaths when you started massaging his neck sent sparks all over your body. You wondered if he sounded like that during other moments in his life and you had to shake your head to send all the inappropriate thoughts away. Still it was next to impossible not to drool over him; touching him and watching him so up-close.

“Is that nice?” you asked.

“Mhm…”

“You have to be careful of how your posture is when you’re sleeping though. You warned me about it, but won’t do the same for yourself.”

“Maybe we can remind each other,” he suggested.

“Well that sounds like a good idea, but sadly we’re not always together when we’re sleeping.”

“Sadly, huh?”

Your hands froze on his shoulders and you could feel them shaking as Hotch started laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said, covering your face embarrassed.

“I know,” he reassured you with a small laugh. He reached out behind him for your hands as his head fell slightly back to make eye contact with you. You were still covering your face, so he grabbed your wrists gently and moved them down. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m embarrassed.”

He used his grip on your hands to drag you next to him so he could look at you properly. It didn’t need much effort on his side to make you take a seat by his side. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because you’re Hotch.”

“And?”

“And it’s self-explanatory. You either get it or you don’t.”

“I see.”

You sat next to each other in silence for a bit. Embarrassed or not, you didn’t want to go. This side of Hotch was very rare to be seen, and you felt grateful you got to witness him like this for once. You weren’t ready for it to end.

“Should I go?” you asked hesitantly.

“Do you wanna go?”

It took you a few seconds to reply, trying to make up your answer. You chose to be honest. “Not really.”

“Then stay.”

“I might fall asleep on your couch again,” you warned him.

“Hmm…there are worse things that could happen to me I think,” he said holding back a grin, and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his chest.

You couldn’t agree more.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #hotch 🪐#ask

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ingravinoveritas · 22 days

Note

How did u feel with the age gap question was it pr or do u really think he meant it and this was the truth

This is referring to the question asked on The Assembly last night. I'll post the clip here, for those who haven't seen it yet:

A lot of what I felt while watching this was touched on in this incredibly thoughtful post from @body-face-words, so I encourage folks to give that a read. But I think for me, when it comes to Michael's answer, it's not a matter of whether he lied or told the truth. It's that his response was sweet, but it was also a version of the truth that sounded convincing because it needed to, because this was not a time or place where he could say what he actually felt.

I'm really not sure what people expected him to say, in all honesty, as he was never going to say anything that would make him or Anna look bad, and especially not anything that could potentially negatively impact the kids, so he instead gave a very perfect PR answer. This again does not come as a surprise because we know Michael has scripted his answers about AL/their relationship in the past, but I noticed how careful he was in his response, which seems to contrast with how off-the-cuff he normally is when discussing every other subject. Part of what so many of us love about Michael is how unfiltered he is and always has been, with the exception of how much he filters and edits himself when talking about Anna.

It also seemed like, at least from my perspective, that Michael answered the question without answering the question. What the girl asked wasn't so much about the age gap, but about AL being five years older than Michael's daughter Lily, and it would've been a perfect opportunity for him to mention her, or how the relationship with AL affected his and Lily's relationship. He could've talked about the falling out he had with her (and Kate) in 2019 once AL's existence/pregnancy came to light, and what has happened in the years since, or how Lily now gets along with Anna/her half-sisters. But instead Michael deflected from all of that and talked about everything while saying nothing at the same time.

It was also the things Michael didn't say that stood out as much as the things he did. In the entire answer to the question, Michael never once used the word "love." Prior to the show airing, I saw a lot of people online confident that he would say that he loves Anna, but he never did. He never praised her, never talked about the things he loves about her, or how glad he is to be with her. He never once mentioned her by name. The pivot and focus was on the kids, and there was a clear distinction made between how happy he is to have the family he does, rather than to be in the relationship that he is in. Michael's use of the phrase "very happy" was also identical to the wording of a comment AL wrote on Instagram the other day, which added to the whole "reinforcing a public narrative" feeling of his response.

I think what struck me most of all, though, was how somber and heavyhearted Michael sounded while saying how happy he is. It reminded me of the song "I Am a Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel, where the upbeat and cheerful music contrasts starkly with the fraught, angry lyrics. There was no sparkle in Michael's eyes when he said it, no enthusiasm for what he was saying (which is particularly jarring when we know Michael has the capacity for incredible enthusiasm), and his face never lit up while he was talking.

There was one specific moment (which is also highlighted in the body language post) where he seemed to visibly wince and the micro-expressions were in overdrive, and it immediately made me think of a moment from Good Omens:

Time and again, I have seen fans talk about Michael's micro-expressions as an actor and how he uses them to such devastating effect (especially in the role of Aziraphale). And while these two moments are not completely identical, the idea of ignoring how Michael uses those same micro-expressions in real life makes no sense to me at all. In this instance, what we're seeing could be either because he has put so much of himself into Aziraphale that we can now recognize those "Michael" moments...or it could be because in both clips he is performing, albeit for different reasons.

The difference between Michael when he is doing this vs. when he is being genuinely himself is made even more apparent by the question immediately following this one. Unprompted, he brings up David, and the change in his expression and demeanor is swift and dramatic:

Having the mention of David happen so soon after the AL question seemed to highlight so many things. I can't help but feel that David is a security blanket for Michael, something he hides behind when he is feeling anxious or sad or overwhelmed. I wondered if perhaps he was even already thinking of David while answering the AL question, which would explain why he named him so readily--as if his mind needed to drift to someplace else just to finish answering that question.

To me, this made it abundantly clear that David is Michael's safe place. Here was where we saw Michael's eyes sparkling. Here was where we saw him light up from the inside. And it was David he kept returning to and bringing up during the rest of the show in response to other questions. So if that doesn't speak volumes about where Michael's heart seems to be, I'm not sure what does.

So yes, those are my thoughts on Michael answering the age gap question on The Assembly. As always, this is just my interpretation, but I am glad to hear from my followers with your take as well. Thanks for writing in! x

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flightfoot · 7 months

Text

Miraculous Enemies AU fanfic recs

So I was just thinking about one of my favorite Miraculous tropes, enemies au. Whether it's Marinette getting the wrong idea about Adrien from the beginning of school, or Chat being cajoled into working for his father, I adore most fics with these tropes, and I'm betting that a lot of other people do as well, so here's a list of some good ones for people to peruse!

Note: I am only listing fics that are currently completed, so you don't have to fear any of these being abandoned. They are in no particular order (or rather, they're in the order in which I was able to track them down in for this list).

cruel youth by @anyxnka

Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.

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i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

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Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl. “Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses. “Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?” “I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every Miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

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with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

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Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

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home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

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The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it' The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation. At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe this war is not entirely what it seems.

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Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth. But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known? Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone? Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

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call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

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oh, look, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can't escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn't mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn't... who will?

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Redemption by JamieHasCatEyes

Papillon has been defeated and imprisoned, but his accomplice, Chat Noir, was given a second chance. Marinette's time as Ladybug may be over, but she still has work to do if she wants to help Adrien reintegrate back into society.

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The Son Of My Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

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metamorphosis by @peachcitt

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.” or three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

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Stealing Freedom by @rosie-b

Adrien Agreste was a good person. Marinette knew this to be true, of course; she wouldn’t be marrying him if he were some irredeemable villain. No, her fiancé was practically the opposite of evil. He cooed over babies and kittens, literally stopped to smell the roses, and always brought large bouquets of them to dates. He had trouble killing spiders and bugs, begging his partner to take on the task whenever she was around to save him. Adrien was the sweetest person Marinette knew, the most kindhearted, the most forgiving; he was almost too perfect for her sometimes. But now, Marinette knew that the same Adrien who still blushed when his fiancée kissed him was also the well-known terror of Paris, Cat Walker.

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #enemies au #ml enemies au #lovesquare #ml lovesquare

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ohnococo · 4 days

Text

Sleep Tight | Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Higuruma’s job leaves him busy, which means the two of you spend far too long as two passing ships, unable to indulge your urges.

He asks for one night to catch up on his sleep, then he’s all yours - but it turns out his body isn’t quite willing to let him make it through that night without being taken care of.

❥ WC: 2.4k

❥ Notes: a request for @bas-writes - Higuruma is so fun to write, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

❥ Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, SOMNOPHILIA (reader receiving), fem bodied reader/no pronouns used, established relationship, wet dreams (mentions of grinding, oral sex/deep-throating), mentions of masturbation, mentions of semi-public masturbation, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, creampie, sleepy sex

Higuruma feels like a complete fucking idiot.

He’d been pulling all-nighters for weeks now. Coming home well after you were asleep, then forced to get up and leave only a handful of hours later. His work was hard at the best of times, but not even having the respite of time with you had turned it into something much like running a marathon in lead shoes. But the only way out of it was through, and when things had finally settled down you were so eager to make up for lost time.

But… that extended lack of sleep and all of that stress had caught up to him. He’d apologised and apologised again and it still didn’t feel like enough, but he just needed one good night of sleep and he would be on you like it was the last day of your lives the following morning, he’d promised. And you’d accepted, being the caring partner that you are.

Except he didn’t even make it to morning, not properly. Or rather, Higuruma wasn’t counting it as morning, considering the sun wasn’t even up yet. But here he was, barely rested, still so tired he felt almost delirious. And here he was, so fucking hard his balls hurt and he thinks he might have discovered you can actually be so horny that it leaves you with a pounding headache.

It’s not the first time he’d woken up either. The first time, he’d opened his eyes, realised he was humping the mattress, and checked the clock to see it was midnight. You weren’t in bed yet, and he was still exhausted, so he ignored the stirring in his pyjamas, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Then he awoke and found himself hard again, cock pressed against the heavy duvet, trying to tent it despite not standing a chance against its weight. It was past uncomfortable at that point, but he turned to look at the clock and see those gently lit numbers telling him it was only just past 1 am. Once he’d heard you sighing next to him, he’d realised that you’d only just come to bed. It felt unfair to wake you, especially when his limbs still felt so heavy and he was tired enough that rolling onto his side was a feat. So again, he readjusted himself, and fell back asleep.

The next time he’d woken up, it was around 3 am, and he’d decided that his pyjamas weren't helping with his discomfort, constricting the erection that had returned once again, this time accompanied by a dream of you sitting on his lap and grinding against him. He’d groaned outright at that point.

First his work keeps him from sleeping, keeps him from you. Then the accumulated tiredness keeps him from you instead. And now, the result of so many days without satisfying his insatiable need for you keeps him from getting the sleep he needs to solve his little problem. An endless loop of torment for a man like him, who is more insatiable than most.

When he’d tried to adjust himself in search of a little comfort, he’d found his clothes sticky and clinging to him, precum having made them nearly translucent over this stressful night. He’d done what he could, sliding them off and kicking them out of the bed entirely before letting himself doze back off with that small semblance of relief.

But now it’s 4 am and his cock is throbbing, rudely interrupting his dream of you waking him up with your mouth on him. It was so vivid he’d almost been convinced it was real until he turned to see you were lying next to him, asleep, and not between his legs looking up at him from where his cock was buried in your throat.

Higuruma groans, wiping sweat from his upper lip, staring at the ceiling with his arms helplessly by his sides. He decides that his body won’t be letting him get any sleep until he solves this problem. Then he decides his mind had been admonishing him for being so selfish. Taking all the extra hours he can instead of delegating his work, denying your offer to empty his aching balls, and here he was dreaming of only his own pleasure. So he decides to focus on you first, at least enough to ensure you get yours. He slowly slides the duvet off of you both to pool at the bottom of the bed, and feels almost giddy at his absolute luck after his poor cock had been through so much turmoil.

It’s as if it were meant to happen, with you laying on your back, legs spread, shirt shoved up from tossing and turning of your own. You’re so ready for him, ready to be touched, that he can’t turn back now. He crawls slowly, pausing when the bed creaks or dips too low, until he’s settled himself between your legs. Face to face with your thinly veiled pussy, he can see a wetness of your own has formed, nearly outlining the contours of your slit, and he has to bite his fist to stop from groaning at the sight. It solidifies it for him, sheepishly jerking himself off over on his lonesome side of the bed could never be an option after looking at you in this state.

He moves his face closer, breathing you in, releasing that breath shakily onto your skin, and presses a slack tongue to the damp fabric. His eyes snap up, watching your reaction, but you only let out a breath barely louder than the last. He licks slowly, slowly upwards, eyes rolling as he gets a hint of the taste he knows so well through that dampened fabric, and when even that doesn’t do much to wake you, he concentrates his efforts on your clit.

It’s swollen enough to make its pert little self known through your clothing, and when he flicks at it with the tip of his tongue you let out a deep sigh. It has that little hint of something more that makes him realise that you’d almost certainly been just as pent up as he had. As his guilt at leaving you high and dry swells, so does his cock as his mind inundates him with vivid images of you clenching your thighs and squirming while missing having him there in your bed. Images of you frustrated, whining his name when your fingers and toys couldn’t do what he could. Images vivid enough that they almost felt like visions of what had indeed been happening in his absence. You, left here touching yourself night after night but finding those orgasms didn’t quite go as deep as they needed to without his cock and face and fingers to ride.

That’s more or less how the weeks had gone for Higuruma, when he felt like his head was going to explode during his late nights at work and the only way to stop it was to lock himself in the leaky bathroom on the abandoned floor above and beat his dick hard and fast while scrolling through whatever sweet little pictures you’d last sent him to remind him that you were home and waiting and meals weren’t quite as nice without him there to enjoy them with. It was never really satisfying, just a means to an end so he can think of something other than whining into your neck while you milk him dry.

It makes his heart clench, saddened and flattered at the unconfirmed but may-as-well-be-true-to-him thought that you might be helplessly fucking your pussy to thoughts of him. That maybe you were even dreaming about it now, like you couldn’t have the real thing, and you hadn’t - for far too long for how insatiable the two of you had been during your seemingly endless honeymoon phase. Higuruma thinks that he’ll never make you go so long without him again, even if he has to fuck you in his office, even if you have to climb on his cock while he’s passed out and dreaming of you sitting on his face.

These thoughts and the taste of you on his tongue act as a pincer attack on his hazy mind. It makes him forget himself, swiping his nose at your clit as his tongue busies itself trying to press at your entrance through the thin cloth keeping him from you. It’s not gentle, or subtle, but Higuruma isn’t thinking straight, not now that his mind is sending him on a spiral of filthy thoughts about how he needs to make you cum so hard you forget every night you’d been alone. He licks and nuzzles and sucks until your underwear are clinging to every contour of your pussy and even then he hovers so very close to grazing his teeth along your folds before he just catches himself.

It’s too much, because it’s too little, and his aching cock begs him to take care of you both as soon as possible. By the time he’s sitting up to settle between your spread legs his hands are shaking, and he has to hold his breath to steady them as he peels the sodden fabric away from you and pulls it to the side.

The way you glisten in the moonlight has him emotional, enough that he swears there are tears welling in his eyes - a pressure relieved by letting out a low sigh, shaky and distraught, as he pumps his cock in his hand and lines it up with you. Half of him wants to toy with you further, gliding his head against you, seeing if you’ll mewl for it the way he has to hold himself back from crying out for you, but the other half wins out as his cock throbs just from the lightest touch against you.

He pushes in, and the sticky sound of diving into your wetness makes his stomach clench, eyes rolling back as he bites his lip to stop from making the pathetic noise his body so badly wanted to release. He starts to push deeper, pausing and shaking his head as he realises it’ll just leave him cumming far too quickly, and that’s not what he’s here for right now, so he pulls back. His knees slide forward, nudging at your legs gently, as he repositions himself and starts making shallow thrusts, his tip just reaching deep enough to press and slide until he has your lips parting to release soft moans and your chest rising and falling faster and faster.

He grazes the pad of his thumb over your clit, holding his breath when it makes you clench around him, so he does it again. You only get wetter for him as he goes, warmer, more malleable as you beckon him to sink deeper and fill you completely, but he knows he has to wait, for both of your sakes. So he shuts his eyes, head falling back as he keeps the first few inches of himself lazily working at you, knowing he’ll get there eventually even like this.

You sigh, and squirm, and clench him again and again, sounds of your bodies like a wet squelch of a kiss as you work his tip even in dreams, and Higuruma doesn’t dare look at you - knowing that’ll be the end of him if he sees exactly what he’s feeling below. Instead he works his way just barely deeper, willing himself to enjoy the journey until that telltale clenching lets him know he can let go fully.

But his hastily laid plans change as you let out a moan and your knees lift towards your chest, a sound too loud and a move too big for you to still be sleeping. He looks down to find you looking as desperate as he feels right now with your curling toes and clenching hands. He doesn’t know when you woke up, but he knows you’re awake now, even if your eyes are closed, and your hands are down by your sides gripping the sheets tightly. He thrusts deep, for the first time in too long, and it makes you open your eyes, coming face to face with him as the tight squeeze of being buried so fully sends him bucking forward and catching himself with hands on either side of you.

“You’re awake.”

You laugh, breathy, clenching at him with the sound as he sets a new pace of long thrusts, “You’re fucking me.”

The hot breath of his laugh collides with yours as he gives you that lovesick smile that only has your pussy desperate to be ruined by him, so you wrap your arms around him and kiss at the corners of his mouth as you instruct him to finish what he’d started. “Go on, then.”

It’s playful, a soft challenge that has him hissing as he settles on his pace, heavy balls slapping at your ass as he makes sure you feel every inch of him you’d been without. He tries his best to keep his movements steady, but is all too aware of how he stays buried deep a little longer before pulling back with each thrust. He goes on like this until he’s barely leaving your heat, the thatch of hair scattered at his base rubbing against you with his desperate rocking.

Then you’re squeezing him tight, with arms and legs and pussy alike and it has him crying out. His full weight falls on top of you as all of his energy goes into thrusting - and staving off his body’s desperate call to release until you’re good and ready to squeeze it out of him on the tail end of your sleep-heightened orgasm. He sucks at your neck, sloppy and wet and barely muffling his shuddering groans until you’re finally cumming on his cock and rocking yourself up into his movements.

He sputters, whines, lets hot breaths loose against your neck as he cums right alongside you with the pull of your hungry heat. It’s a relief so great that it leaves him feeling boneless, like he was floating with only your body to keep him from drowning face down as his body and mind reset after cumming so hard after so long.

It’s much the same for you as well, with Higuruma acting as a weighted blanket over your body, the heat of him staving off the chill of the room as your skin cools down. He’s drifting off first, as is expected with such a tumultuous night, and you follow suit, only half thinking of the earful he’ll be getting in the morning for cumming inside of you.

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #jjk smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma x y/n #x reader #reader insert #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x you #higuruma hiromi x reader

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