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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 4 months

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Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #wonka #timothee!wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka 2023

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munariplans · 3 months

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welcome home, red | natasha romanoff

synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.

natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader

word count: 6.7k words

a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece.

perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed.

but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for.

“natasha?”

she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”

“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”

the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time.

“your little crush.”

“your wife that you claim isn’t.”

“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”

she glared at clint for the last remark.

“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset.

fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”

even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.

–

you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least.

washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead.

honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission.

“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her.

she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”

“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.

you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”

“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”

natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”

you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”

“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”

you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”

–

natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could.

this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her.

with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”

natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?”

she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.

–

however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either.

you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point.

you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two.

sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away.

–

“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.

natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to.

she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”

the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed.

the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun.

“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”

“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”

black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook.

she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption.

the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.

for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet.

–

you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen.

thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.

he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”

“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.

“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.

“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”

clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”

“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”

“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?”

your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.

the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.”

all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.

by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.

–

clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.

“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.

if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny.

but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.

had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all.

when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.

finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.

–

while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.

you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.

“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”

“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.

you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”

“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.

she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”

you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.

but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”

head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”

your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”

you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say.

shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”

felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.

she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”

“she’s…newer.”

“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.

“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”

you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–

“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled.

“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”

she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help.

felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”

your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”

“...then why did you run?”

she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”

“when you were innocent?”

“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”

“you could’ve called me.”

she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”

you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”

sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do.

so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well.

her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.

–

the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”

she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”

“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”

it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”

you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”

“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”

you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.

putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”

–

natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all.

it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you.

there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.

in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.

“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”

–

she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted.

you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.

you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her.

felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.

“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.

still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”

you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”

“i really am–”

“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”

she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”

then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.

somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows.

“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.

“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”

natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.

“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.

i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp.

–

the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.

the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue.

it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you.

in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”

to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”

it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.

–

with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go.

and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew.

heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit.

–

it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.

catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea.

but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.

you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands.

natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well.

if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.

her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.

–

felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth.

“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”

“thanks.”

she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own.

“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”

you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”

“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”

you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.

but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself.

you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.

“red?”

“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”

her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”

she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier.

“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on.

“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace.

“take care, felicia.”

you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.

–

natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air.

there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one.

but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.

she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes.

“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”

you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.

at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?”

she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”

natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.

“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”

natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face.

she pouted. “she’s pretty.”

you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”

“has nice blue eyes.”

you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”

“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”

natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.

that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.

“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.

in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning.

#natasha romanoff x reader #felicia hardy x reader #black widow x reader #black cat x reader #natasha romanoff #felicia hardy #black cat #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

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vsimp · 9 months

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say something (song drabble) - inspo

word count: 2.9k

pairings: alhaitham, ayato, childe, xiao, zhongli/morax (x reader)

genre: angst/hurt/no comfort

summary: they lose you

Warning: presumed death/injury of reader, mentions of blood

Alhaitham x "I’m giving up on you"

Arguments with no happy endings. Rough words that could never be taken back or forgotten.

Alhaitham was the true definition of stubborn.

It was “rationality,” as he so called it. He liked to say things as it is, and there was no need to include your emotions into these conversations, as they influence your motives and produce bias.

Technical, yet cold and harsh at the same time, Alhaitham would leave no room for arguments when he knew that he was in the right. To even validate your feelings would be impossible for him because that was who he was; an intuitive scholar who knew wisdom beyond his years.

Then when was his wisdom too much for others to bear? Was there truly such a thing as too much knowledge?

He couldn’t even fathom such an idea.

And as he argued with you, his mind only thinking of rationality, reason, logic, and analysis, he deliberately ignored the way your tears streamed down your cheeks, how your hoarse voice broke as you cried about your relationship with him.

He then doubted himself for ever thinking he could get into a relationship. Hah. Something like this could never work out again. You both were just too different, or so that was what he’d tell himself as you both slept in separate rooms that night.

But as the house grew emptier and emptier, as you moved all of your stuff out, taking every single thing in his home that made it feel like… an actual home… he grew strangely uncomfortable.

Even as he looked back to that day of the argument, he knew he was right, and that your worries were of no substance. But why did your expression shake up his heart? Why did you make his chest ache? And why did he suddenly feel so empty all of the sudden?

The questions were answered very soon, after every single one of your items have been removed from his house.

And it was at that moment when Alhaitham realized that his house no longer felt like home. And then he realized the true reason for those inexplicable emotions, as he found the present he gave you during one of your birthdays. It was a promise ring, adjourned with your favorite gemstone. He remembered how you loved it so much that you would never take it off your finger.

Yet here it was, left on a note with one simple word.

“Goodbye.”

That was the day when he figured out quickly that even if he had all the knowledge in the world, nothing else could have mattered more, for as long as he had you, he would be the happiest man in the universe. It was a severe lapse in judgment on his part, and a true mistake that he so bitterly had to realize far too late.

He had lost you. You had given up on him.

He had nobody else to blame but himself.

Kamisato Ayato x "I’m still learning to love"

As the head of the Kamisato Clan, Ayato always had to remain vigilant at all times. He had to prepare for any worst case possible while also trying to actively prevent it from happening. It was the reason why he wore a mask around everybody who he knew.

He feared that if he were to let his guard down, revealing what truly laid underneath the mask, they would take advantage of his vulnerabilities and strike down everything he was ever trying to protect.

And that was the reason why he never trusted you, his own spouse. He had agreed to a marriage with you quite easily, as your family had something he wanted, and in exchange, he would take your hand in marriage, thus binding you and your family tree to the prestigious Kamisato Clan.

Ayato had assumed the worst about you, as your family had not given him the best impression either.

As he got to know you, however, he found that you were beyond his expectations. You were kind, compassionate, and intelligent. You did everything you could so that the clan and the Yashiro Commission could thrive.

You comforted him on the days when he truly was stressed out from all of his work, took on his pain as if it were yours. Not only were you beautiful, but you made him feel as if everything was going to be truly okay in the end, so long as you could give him that smile.

He almost admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with you.

Yet, a silly ploy from your family, one of spite over the fact that you were thriving in such a place, had ruined your marriage into shambles.

Ayato had lost his trust in you. Your family had planted false incriminating evidence, one that insinuated that you were plotting the downfall of the Yashiro Commission. You weren’t able to defend yourself, and you asked him if he really thought you were the type of person to commit such atrocious acts.

His eyes wavered for a moment at your question. But the "you" in his memory grew fuzzy as the thought that everything he was trying to protect was being jeopardized, that he shouldn’t throw everything he’s built over a mere spouse. That you were one of the people trying to harm him and his family.

That night, he muttered cold words to you. As if you were never even considered part of his family at all. As if all of those memories you two once shared never mattered. You were but an outsider to him at this point.

Since the diplomats of the Yashiro Commission grew suspicious of you, pressuring him to take action, he threw you out of the household that day. Perhaps he never loved you as much as you thought he did.

With no place to go, you ran out of the estate with only some small mora and clothes.

The estate remained cold without your presence there. No longer would he be surrounded by your brightness. But a traitor wasn’t worth mulling over, or so that was what he kept telling himself as he constantly found himself looking beside him, where you would usually be.

It wasn’t until a month later did his sister Ayaka uncover the truth. She and Thoma were the only people who believed in your innocence. She presented it to Ayato, and for the first time ever, he had never seen his sister so angry at him.

Regret and guilt washed over him immediately. What had he done? He had truly messed up. But he didn’t know that it was all a ploy, and he was just trying to protect the Yashiro Commission. Surely, you would understand. Right?

His heart ached for his lover as he ran all over the streets to find you. Ayaka had told him where you had been staying. He wasted no time to get there as soon as he could.

Ayato couldn’t forget the way those cold eyes of yours looked at him. He tried to apologize, but you just gave him a look of disappointment. It was like a slap to his face, a harsh wake up call as reality hit him. Maybe if he had trusted you more, maybe if he had trusted in his own love for you more, this would have never happened.

And yet, here you were, in the middle of a ragged, old inn that you could barely afford without the help of his sister, your clothes worn out as you had been doing everything by yourself the last month, and your cold eyes that no longer held the same love and affection for him as before— he knew that there were no more chances for him.

You slammed the wooden door shut in front of his face that day.

Childe x "I will swallow my pride / you’re the one that I love"

“You don’t understand. This is my job as the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. My only duty is to serve the Tsaritsa. I can’t always be there for you.”

Those were his cold words that pushed you away. He was too blind to see what was truly in front of him at the time.

Childe strived for strength. He enjoyed fighting you, as he felt that you were both equal in terms of strength, and that he could grow in power with you. But that was all he saw you as—a sparring companion.

So when you started to hope for more, he instantly grew detached. It was like walking through a narrowed tunnel, where the only thing he saw was his goal.

There were no emotions as you confessed your love to him. An apathetic gaze that shook your emotions to your very core. It was only then that day when you realized that the heart you wanted to capture was unreachable. He had built icy walls that were impenetrable.

So you decided to give up on him.

Childe didn’t think too much of it. You were just a battle partner to him anyways.

He told himself that, but why did his heart ache when he recalled your tears? Why did he suddenly feel empty now that your presence was no longer there?

The silly jokes you’d tell him, the delicious food you would cook for him, the smile you’d give to him, and him alone— you were no longer there to provide that comfort that he had missed from being so far away from home for so long. Perhaps he had even started to see you as his home outside of Snezhnaya.

He realized that all of this time, he really did love you. He loved you so much, yet he was too caught up in his beliefs to realize it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, to start a family with you, to have and to hold you until eternity has reached its end.

So he set down his pride, put aside his duties to the Cryo Archon temporarily, and he went to see you that day. And unfortunately, it had been too late.

You were smiling at another man, and he had lost you. And then he realized the true extent of the pain you felt that day when he had broken your heart.

Xiao x "anywhere, I would’ve followed you"

Xiao would never admit that he needed a companion in his life. It was his fate, his contract with destiny to serve and protect Liyue for the rest of his life, even if it cost him his very own.

He always isolated himself from the mortals, like a lonesome Qingxin blooming at the highest stone peaks. He looked down from height above, but never got too deeply involved with the matters of the mortals. It was only time, however, when somebody decided to climb those mountains and pluck him off the ground.

A hindrance to his daily affairs, and a nuisance whenever you followed him around, he knew it was his fault for forming a contract with you.

If you called his name, he would come. That was what he promised you. Be it for serious matters, whenever you needed his help with something, or for something more trivial, such as having a simple meal with you.

It was irritating to be called so frequently, but he was a man who kept true to his words.

It wasn’t until one day, you had made his favorite almond tofu dish and then called him over. It hadn’t even been a whole day yet since you’d last called for him, and you were already wanting to see him.

He had enough at this point. You couldn’t get any more involved with him. After all, he had always been alone for the last 3,000 years, and the karma he has to bear living with is too much for any regular mortal to handle. He needed to push you away.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than invite me over for something as trivial as this?” He would say coldly, not even wanting to sit down at this point. “I don’t want to spend any time with you. I truly loathe people who force others to do activities that they don’t even want to do.”

His words were much harsher that day. Although a part of him did feel bad, he needed to do this. He had to, that’s what he told himself. It didn’t bother him when you started choking into tears, nor did it bother him to see that heartbroken expression that lingered on your face.

“I just wanted to spend time with the person I love.” Your voice cried out painfully as you attempted to walk closer to him. “I would follow you everywhere, through everything and anything! You just have to let me in to your heart, Xiao!”

“Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? I will never love a mortal like you.”

The rejection was clear as day. He didn’t love you back. All of the time he has spent with you, the way he held you up gently after fighting some monsters, his small smile when you made him almond tofu for the first time; those memories were all rendered meaningless as he cut you open with his words.

But somehow, you knew this would happen. Your eyes looked defeated as you stared at him right then and there. You gave him a heart wrenching smile, which was a look that puzzled him the most.

He could never forget the look on your face. With eyes that stained with tears, and a beautiful, forced smile, Xiao knew that this was finally the end.

“I understand. Goodbye then, Xiao.”

He shut his eyes as you disappeared from his sight. It was inevitable that you would leave that day, yet the discomfort originating from his chest would not disappear.

Yes, this was something he had to do, no matter how painful it was, no matter how attached he was getting to you.

You never called him after that for a while. He thought it was a blessing, but somehow, the silence made it even more eerie. Like a singular piece of jigsaw that was lost amongst a thousand pieces of a puzzle.

"Xiao…” he heard you say after some time had passed. A weak voice. He knew something was wrong.

There, he found you. Laid in a puddle of crimson red. Everything was in slow motion at this point to him. He wasn't even able to assess the situation before he had pulled you immediately into his arms, calling out your own name in worry.

There was no response.

Thoughts of anger and regret washed through him, just like the heavy pouring rain that diluted your blood, like thunder that roared through the lands out of despair.

That day, he realized that this was the last time you would ever call his name.

Zhongli x "I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you."

The Geo Archon was a magnificent entity, one that inspired awe and respect from many individuals. You were but one of them who admired—no, more like adored him.

You fought alongside Morax in many battles to protect Liyue. It was your pride and joy to help with this almighty god.

But as often as you tried to pursue his affections, wanting Morax to look at you and you only, his gaze never seemed to find yours.

With a look gentler than any soft breeze in the plains of Liyue herself, you had never seen such an expression from him. He looked at Guizhong with such a tenderness, even dedicating a beautiful song on the lyre for her, bringing her glaze lilies to bloom from such a lovely song. You wondered if you could ever compete with such a beautiful goddess like her.

Your hands were tainted in blood, the malice of monsters and demons leaving scars all over your hands and arms. Your words were rougher with others, as you belonged on the battlefield, compared to the wise and kind-hearted God of Dust.

You were distracted more than usual one day, and you were injured quite badly in a battle with monsters. With blood pouring from the side of your rib cage, you immediately went to Morax to seek help. You could feel his divinity from miles away, and when you arrived to the area he supposedly stayed, your heart ached as he held Guizhong’s cheeks so gently. It hurt worse than any wound that you have even sustained.

You couldn’t help but drop your weapon. The loud clang echoed through the courtyard, and that was when the man had finally and actually looked at you.

Shock had laced in his golden eyes, his hands dropped down from her cheek to his side as he had realized the state you were currently in.

Your eyes had started to glaze over, tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your own heart break. Your emotions were so strong, yet so ugly, that even the plants had started to wilt around you. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you immediately turned your back away from him.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” His voice shouted as his footsteps drew closer to you, but your cold voice cut him off.

“Don’t take a single step towards me, Morax.”

He paused, unsure of whether or not to continue forward judging from your tone. Even as your blood seeped to the ground, staining the earth and dyeing the flowers around you a crimson red, you remained turned away from him.

You walked away from your unrequited love, ignoring his calls and pleas as he asked you to come back so he could treat your wounds.

You shut your eyes, enveloping yourself in the darkness.

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yesimwriting · 3 months

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something about bestfriend!felix who's so used to the world bending over backwards to please him that he seems entirely separated from the concept of boundaries.

it's one of the few things about him that remains unspoken because it reminds those in his social circle that no matter how much influence or money they might have, someone has more. and that someone is felix catton.

he's never weird about it, there's just this rule that everyone learns to pick up on and never mention. if felix wants to go out for the night or do anything socially with someone, it's customary for that person to cancel any other plans.

it might be more of an issue if felix's proximity didn't feel like sunbathing on an early summer day, but it does. so he's used to not having to work to get someone where he wants them.

until you.

despite your friendship still being relatively new, the two of you have bonded enough for you to accept his presence instantly.

felix didn't call before coming over. you answered the door after two knocks, grinning as soon as you saw him standing there. you didn't even think to ask about the lack of notice, you just invited him in and made some comment about how you were just studying.

he told you he didn't mind if you wanted to keep studying, that he brought over his own textbooks just in case. even though you were set up at your desk, you moved your supplies over to your bed so that you could sit with him.

it started off as separated as the two of you ever are, just your bent knee pressing gently into his lower thigh. your shared restraint dissolved quickly.

you're practically laying down, back partially supported by a wall and two pillows, felix's head resting on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. he's holding up a textbook for you with one arm, fingertips absentmindedly brushing against your bare leg.

he breaks the silence with a sigh. when you don't respond, he turns his head and presses his lips against your thigh. your nails freeze against his scalp. "felix."

"lovie," he replies, tone as scandalized as yours. you sigh, and he can practically feel your eye roll.

felix grins, turning his head look up at you. he knows he should be good about this, about you, but he's not accustomed to practicing this kind of restraint. he's preoccupied with terribly soft thoughts of closer when he blurts out the question, "come out with me tonight?"

it's only a question by technicality, his eyes bright as if you've already agreed.

you press your lips together, and the hesitance in the look jabs at him. he brushes his knuckles against the side of your leg like that might tip the decision. "i have an econ test on monday."

the excuse deflates him. it's only friday, and even if it wasn't, you don't need to worry about your grades. there's a naturalness to your schooling, you grasp everything almost immediately. any personal selfishness aside, you don't need a weekend of studying. it's objective fact.

you're still watching him, expression unsure. "y'know too much studying's bad for you." your lips part, but before you can say anything, felix is shutting the book he'd been holding up for you.

he extends his arm, his palm covering the upper half of your face with the palm of his hand. you laugh out his name. "what? your eyes need the rest." you shift, still giggling as you halfheartedly try to push him off. "you'll get a headache."

your fingers wrap around his wrist. "you're my headache."

he lets out a mock gasp before pulling away entirely. felix doesn't miss your slight pout as he sits up. "actually?"

you're chasing after him, sitting up and attempting to grab his arm. felix lets you. "no." you squeeze his arm to you. "i meant it in a you're my best friend way."

"that so?" you nod innocently, all wide eyes as if to say see? i have no intentions of being anything other than a perfect angel.

felix pretends to contemplate forgiveness, then, with no warning lays down. you're not given a chance to deliberate what that means before he's tugging on your arm. he mumbles a brief, explanatory, "c'mere," as he pulls you into his chest.

you listen, moving to rest your chin against the side of his chest. your arm's across him. felix's shirt has ridden up right where your fingertips naturally rest. the bare contact makes goosebumps break out across your arms.

"go out with me tonight," he tries, voice soft. you have to drop your gaze to keep from immediately melting and agreeing to whatever he wants. "c'mon, think it's good for you to take a break every now and then."

you lift your head up just enough to glare at him. felix shifts his leg, pressing it against yours. you push back gently, just enough to reciprocate the gesture. "so you're saying i'm a friendless loser that only ever goes out when you make me?"

"i'm saying," he extends the syllables to buy himself some time to think, "i have to go, and i won't have any fun without you."

you find it hard to imagine that felix catton ever has to do anything he doesn't want to. you're also confident in his ability to find fun at a party. "you have farleigh, and oliver, and annabel--you'll be fine without me."

his hand is on your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your t-shirt. "i don't want anyone else." the soft whine in his tone paired with his slight pout makes him seem smaller, like a little kid that just needs to be wrapped up. "i want you."

"you have me."

felix frowns, "doesn't feel like it."

you're losing. "do you really want me to go that badly?"

he smiles, feeling the crack in your resolve. "we'll just go for a little. have a drink or two, then y'can sleepover if you want." you do like sleeping over in felix's dorm. "and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want--study, watch a movie, dinner."

a sleepover and a saturday. this no longer feels like a loss. you smile, "deal."

felix's available hand finds your hip. "that's my girl."

the comment makes your face feel warm, you drop your head to rest on his stomach to hide any potential signs of being flustered. he'd tease you to no end about it. "i should get up, start getting ready."

he runs his hand down your back, "it's not until later." he moves his hand back up slowly. his thumb starts traces circles against your shoulder. "we've got time."

----

omg bestfriend!felix blurbs are everything to me,, if you have any thoughts about bestfriend-verse pls lmk,,

also?? might have to write a full fic for bestfriend-verse

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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luveline · 10 months

Text

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression?

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?"

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong."

"Something looks wrong."

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice.

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile."

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy."

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?"

"Gabs?" he asks.

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it."

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met.

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?"

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange.

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air.

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?"

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk."

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too.

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?"

"I'm okay. I just feel strange."

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card."

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far.

"Hm?" you hum in question.

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?"

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting.

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms.

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing.

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?"

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair.

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?"

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you."

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you.

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years.

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?"

"She's in her room. Call her."

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner.

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove.

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared.

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!"

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her.

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him.

"Woah, careful."

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late."

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers.

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back.

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back.

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says.

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital.

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella.

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!"

"Well, come and sit. What mug?"

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you.

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot."

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness.

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?"

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot.

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing."

"The thing?"

You frown.

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses."

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia.

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after.

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!"

"Blow in her ear," you mouth.

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm.

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it.

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?"

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks.

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke."

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low.

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel.

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up."

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?"

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks.

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure.

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry."

"For what?" You blink.

"I don't know."

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?"

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off.

"You're really something special," he says quietly.

"How so?"

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you."

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features.

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love.

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?"

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad."

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.

"I must have some good luck," he says.

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness.

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to.

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–"

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time.

It's not a bad kiss.

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin.

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him.

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers.

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time.

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear."

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included."

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?"

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

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talaok · 1 year

Text

A small bed

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: During a cold night at Nevermore, you seek shelter in your friend's, Xavier, room, but as it turns out, sleeping on a single bed in two, is not as easy as it sounds. Warnings: SMUT (protected sex and oral sex- female receiving-) a/n: Let's play a game. Guess who's depressed and has done nothing other than "write" and watch Wednesday for the past few days? Please find the answer in the following text.

It was so cold in the room. Those stupid wooden thin walls never actually isolated the building from the cold. Funny how the headmaster seemed to have money to donate to the Mayor's campaign but none to invest in the infrastructure she herself was managing. The bedroom was way too large and the ceiling way too high for the mere thermostat to be enough to fight the cruel Jericho's cold. You could hear Edvin's low snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. You wondered how she did it, how she could fall asleep with this temperature. Maybe it had something to do with her nature, and if that was it, you wished for a moment to have been born a werewolf too. Able at least to close your eyes without the fear you'll freeze to death in your sleep keep you from doing so. you sighed. there was no way you were gonna do it. The alarm on the nightstand indicated the time. 3:46, plastered in red lightning, the only thing illuminating the room besides the sheer light coming from outside, the moon still emanating her immortal glow through the branches. The howling of the wind seemed almost sinister, as it infiltrated from the window. You gripped the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, sitting up on the bed. There had to be something you could do right? You intently thought about it, as the cold spread itself all over your body. They were no more blankets, so that was a no. there was hot tea in the kitchen, but that meant stepping outside, where the cause of your suffering had originated, not to mention you were still going to have to come back to this infernal room after, so that was another no. the gears in your brain were desperately operating, trying hard to find a solution, but it seemed the temperature had compromised also them, not just your body, which was now trembling, as the only one they could find was the first one you had thought of, but had deliberately discarded. It's not like it was a bad idea, he would have said yes, you knew. there was just something about it that didn't convince you, a feeling or, better even, a presentiment, that made you doubtful on whether it was a good idea either. But you didn't have time to think about it as you slipped through the door, glancing one last time, at that shadow-filled space.

The sound resonated through the whole corridor as your knuckles met the door's hardwood. Silence filled it just moments after. It's not like you were expecting a prompt reply, or one at all for that matter. Light footsteps echoed in your ears just before the doorknob turned. "Y/n?" Xavier whispered, his voice still hoarse and full of sleep. "I know, I'm sorry. can I come in?" He frowned, visibly confused "Uhh, sure" "Thanks" you immediately sneaked in. He closed the door and leaned on it, still incredibly perplexed. "Did-did something happen?" "No, nothing like that" You smiled "I just-" you bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him "I can't sleep in my room. It's too cold." "Oh" he exhaled relieved, calming you with him. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry. I can go if you want" you said, realizing just now how crazy you must look. Showing up to his room at 4 in the morning trembling and without shoes on. "shit you're freezing" he noticed, immediately taking his bed's blanket and walking up to you. He was silent as he gently wrapped it around you, his hands remaining on your arms once you had gripped it. "Thanks" "don't worry." he shook his head. A sincere expression spread over his face, and you let yourself stare at it, loving the way he was doing the same. "so, can I stay here?" you asked again "Of course" he said, looking offended by the fact you even had to ask. He glanced at his bed, an eyebrow-raising itself "There's only one thing" he offered you an apologetic smile "There's only one bed. Rowan's old one doesn't have any blankets". You looked around. He was right. Only the single bed surrounded by drawing-filled walls seemed to be suitable to sleep in. Especially today. You laughed softly. It wasn't funny, well maybe just a bit, but most of all it was ironic. you had come here for shelter and the only one you had found was a very thin mattress you now had to share with someone else. You wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't for the fact that there was no other option. You definitely weren't going back to the hellhole you had just escaped from. "I think we can fit" "you sure?" "Well, we at least have to try" you said "If I go back to my room there's a 90 % chance that I'll die of hypothermia" "and we wouldn't want that" he chuckled, his thumbs stroking your arms through the cover. "no" you smiled "we definitely wouldn't". You liked looking at him, the moon illuminating only the left side of him, lightening his long amber hair to champagne ones. "all right then" he let his arms fall to his sides before indicating the way "Ladies first" "Why thank you, kind sir" you grinned as you went to the bed, laying down on it. It smelled of him. His scent was soaked in the sheets and in the pillow and you immersed yourself in it as you closed your eyes. You liked it. More than you should have, probably. "comfortable?" he asked, and you nodded sleepily as your eyes stayed shut. He laughed softly at how cute you looked, peacefully sleeping in his bed, and a weird feeling invaded his chest. He didn't pay attention to it as he walked towards you. You felt the bed creek and move as he climbed on it, laying just beside you. You hadn't really understood how small the bed was when you had looked at it before, but as you laid here, your two bodies glued together, you realized just how wrong your estimate had been. Silence filled the room again as he set the cover on you both. You were still shuddering, it seemed like the cold had made its way into you and had now little to no intention of ever leaving you. "You're still cold" he whispered, his hand finding your arm again, just to caress it kindly. His touch felt like fire on your frozen skin. You opened your eyes, finding his already on yours. You swallowed nervously at how close you were, a few inches was all that separated you. If you hadn't been best of friends this would have looked romantic, you thought. But you were, so there was nothing to think about. "mh-mh" you nodded. "can I-" he murmured as he turned to lay on his side "I can hug you" he bit his lip "if that's ok" "Y-yeah sure. I'd like that" you said shyly and he smiled "ok" He scooted closer to you and you turned to your side, just like he had, facing the wall. You admired the extremely detailed spider on the drawing in front of you as he put one of his arms around you, tightly holding onto your chest, pushing you against his, and the other under your head. His body was flat against yours, from head to toe following your body's position. You could feel every inch of his body, his hair brushing against your neck where his breath was giving you goosebumps, his chest moving up and down against your back, and his knees on the back of your legs. He was warm, and as much as you were grateful for the cold beginning to leave your body, you weren't thinking about it anymore. What you were thinking about, was his hand on your stomach, and your ass-well- your ass dangerously close to his crotch. You gulped, if you had been on the verge of falling asleep before, you doubted you were ever gonna do it now. You kept staring at the drawing as you let yourself melt into his touch, so gentle and yet so reassuring. It felt nice. More than nice actually. Your neck was starting to hurt and you readjusted yourself to get more comfortable, inadvertently moving closer to him, and well, grinding against his lap. A small groan, clearly not intended for you to be heard, left his throat. "sorry" you whispered, faintly "don't worry" his hoarse voice traveled to your ears, as he tightened his hug. Shit. There was a weight on your chest and a familiar feeling in your belly, and you preyed that you would have fallen asleep soon, zeroing out all the possible mistakes that you were afraid you couldn't stop yourself from making, and that right now were all you wanted to do. All the thoughts passing from your head were things you knew you would have regretted later, like what would have happened if you ground again against his crotch, or if you turned and leaned just a few inches over, meeting his lips with yours. They were all potential, doable possibilities, that you could have explored in a matter of seconds, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. You were just tired, that was it. Xavier was your friend, and friends don't kiss each other, even if they really really want to. "Y/n?" a soft whisper in your ear. "Hm" you hummed "are you sleeping?" You turned your neck around, now really inches from his face, from his nose, eyes, and stupidly pretty mouth. "no" you answered There was a moment of silence, as he inspected your whole face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your mouth and then up again. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had never understood that expression, but now, all of the sudden, it seemed to make a lot of sense. "are you feeling better?" "yes, thank you" He moved his hand from your belly and brought it up to your face "good" he murmured, as he stroked your cheek. You felt your cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. "I-" your voice died in your throat, as you forgot what you wanted to say. "You're very pretty you know?" he kept caressing your face "I don't think I've ever told you before" he smiled "but you really are" shit. He was making it really hard not to want to explore the possibilities. "I- thank you" you murmured. He looked at you, seriously now, penetrating and studying you, like he was really seeing you for the first time. "Y/n" he murmured, his eyes blinking slowly. "Xavier" you whispered too, before he slowly leaned over, indecisively getting closer and closer to your lips. you looked at him as he reached them, pressing his mouth on yours, in a chaste kiss. you barely reciprocated, still shocked this was actually happening. He leaned away, his eyes moving between your mouth and your eyes, desperately trying to understand what you were thinking, while also desperately wanting to kiss you again, this time, like he really wanted to. You looked at him, his beautiful eyes always so confident, now looked so hesitant. It was a weird image, a new one. You smiled subtly as you leaned over and pressed your lips with his, this time better, harder and more passionately as his hand on your cheek traveled to your hair. He stroked your hair as he kissed you lovingly, his warm mouth on yours, as you both closed your eyes. It felt like floating, like flying on cotton candy clouds. You had never felt something like this. he smiled as he leaned away, and you couldn't help but do the same. "you're a good kisser" he murmured" better than I expected actually" you gasped, pretending to be mad " you expected me to be bad? " you asked, realizing just at that moment something "and what do you mean by expected?" "well" he moved a lock of your hair behind your ear "let's just say there have been times when I wondered about this" "have there?" you grinned "yes" he kissed you again quickly "there have been" " Good to know" you bit your lip "and by the way, you're a good kisser too" "Oh I know" he chuckled, retracting his hand from under your head to place it on your shoulder, his fingers trailing on it. "I'm good at a lot of things" he looked at you. A fire burned in his eyes. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he kissed it uncaringly. His tongue infiltrated your lips as he forced your head together with his hand. You could taste him in your mouth, Xavier, all of him. from his toothpaste to the tip of the pencil he bit constantly. It was all there. "And do you want to show me those things you're so good at?" you said, surprising even yourself "pleeeease" he begged, desperation clear in his voice as he gripped your head one more time, kissing you hard and messily as he pushed you to lay down on the bed. He didn't waste any time as he got on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face, while his hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of shivers with his touch. You whimpered as one of his hands found your breasts "We can stop if you want" "no. please no" He smiled "thank god" he lifted your shirt and sweater "I was just getting to the good part," he said, as he lifted it over your head with your help and shamelessly stared at your bare tits " fuck you're hot" he said bending down to spread kisses all over them while groping and caressing them hungrily. "so" he started kissing down your belly "fucking" he trailed down under the covers "hot" he said, kissing your fully clothed pubis. You moaned softly at the hint of a touch he just gave you. You were desperate "please" as I said, desperate "patience my dear" he whispered sarcastically, as he hooked the hem of your pants under his fingers, toying with it. You whined softly "a virtue you clearly don't possess" he chuckled under his breath as he slowly took your pants off, finally freeing you. he bent down immediately between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. You met his gaze and bit your lip. This was crazy. You were friends and had been such for so long, and apparently, all it took was a very cold night and a much too small bed to make you forget about it, and for him to end up between your legs. Fuck, he looked pretty that way. He brought you back to reality as he bent down and kissed your clit, still looking at you. You moaned softly, and then he did it again, this time for longer, and your moan became louder and kept doing so until he was sucking your clit and you were screaming his name, your hands gripping his hair and the sheets mindlessly. Lost in the pleasure he was provoking you He was looking at you mesmerized as you threw your neck back, your eyes shutting close and your mouth open, those filthy sounds coming out of it. Xavier thought he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. "you taste so good y/n" he said, his words vibrating against your cunt, as his fingers came up to your pussy, slowly moving towards the entrance. You cried out as they entered you, Xavier pumping them in and out relentlessly. A very dirty sound echoed through the room as he kept doing that, not even your voice able to cover it, as he went back to sucking and licking all he could find. "xavier" you mumbled "s-shit" you tried to speak, but the pressure forming in your belly distracted you "I-I'm coming" you finally spat out, and he smiled against your cunt "then cum y/n, come all over me" he stopped just to resume again, even harsher than before. You felt a knot in your stomach and as he scissored his fingers inside of you again, hitting your g-spot perfectly, it broke down. Making you come undone, loudly moaning his name as you came down from your high. "shit" you sighed incredulously, as he came back up to your face, pressing his lips with yours once again, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. "you weren't joking when you said you were good" you giggled, and he smirked "I'm a man of my word" his hand found your side again "now" he looked at you "let me show you my full potential" he said, making you laugh giddily, exited for what was about to come. His hands left you momentarily as he took off his shirt and just moments after, his pants. You had never seen anyone undress that quickly. He leaned over you to reach into one of his nightstand's drawers, his hand reappearing with a tinfoil package between his fingers, the same ones that were inside of you moments before. You squeezed your thighs shut, just at the thought He looked down at your legs and smiled knowingly, as he slid the condom on his cock. You weren't nervous. It was weird, usually, you were always nervous at moment like this but you felt safe, and more than a bit turned on. "you're gonna have to open your legs y/n" he raised an eyebrow, and you tilted your head to the side, biting down a smile "and what if I don't?" he bent down over you "then I'm gonna have to open them for you" he ghosted your lips. you swallowed thickly. Fucking shitty shit. Hot. That was hot. You spread your legs and he smirked smugly " so obedient" he joked and you rolled your eyes. "look at me" he commanded as he positioned himself at your entrance "I want you to look at me when I'm inside you" Your mouth slaked open but you still nodded "use your words" "ok" you answered finally, and he looked at you proudly before slowly pushing himself into you. A series of stroked and interrupted moans escaped your mouth as he bottomed out, filling you up completely. You were doing as he requested, looking at him intently as your face contorted in all sorts of expressions. "you're perfect" he sighed faintly, as he placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently " so fucking perfect" he looked at you, making your heart miss a beat. his lips twitched up into a very thin smirk as he started moving in and out of you slowly, his veiny cock wrapped tightly around your walls. "feel so good " he groaned as he quickened his pace. One of your hands flew to his shoulder as you gripped it to bring him down to you. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you did, as you hooked your arm beside his neck and reached up to kiss him desperately, leaving pointless little whines in his mouth as he kept thrusting into you. "shit Xavier" you cried out as he brought one of his hands down to circle your already overstimulated clit. "I know," he said without an ounce of real sorriness "just take it " he pecked your lips again "It'll be worth it" You were out of breath as you kept bouncing on his bed, your tits moving with you. his movements were fast and you were feeling so many things at once that you weren't sure you knew exactly where you were at the moment. The same knot from before was starting to form itself again. "you're coming" he said, through his panting, anticipating you. Some of his hair were stuck to his forehead, and his mouth was open, gasping for air in between his sporadical groans of pleasure. "mh-mh" you nodded desperately, your hips moving with his to get even more friction. "come baby" he murmured, the pet name echoing through your ears, and traveling straight down to your cunt "come for me" "oh god xavier" you had the time to murmur before a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you, a series of little fireworks exploding inside you as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm while letting you ride yours out. "fuck" he growled as his thrusts got more sloppy "you feel- so f-fucking good" he groaned, before with one final push, he came, a series of profanities leaving his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smiled as you realized what had just happened, and when he raised his head, you could see he was doing the same. "I think the bed was too small" you grinned "What makes you say that?" he laughed

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe fancfiction #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday #smut #fluff #friends to lovers #xavier smut #xavier

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lucyandalexiafan · 24 days

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Safeword | Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: while Alexia is punishing you with spanking you use the safeword two or three times, but she doesn't seem to hear it and continues to punish you until you push yourself against the headboard, away from her.

Warning: angst. Alexia unintentionally does not respect reader's safeword; crying; d/s dynamic that doesn't work this time (but normally it's healthy and works perfectly); Alexia angry at the beginning, than is really worried and terrified by what she did; r is scared of interrupting the scene. Dom!Alexia, sub!reader

Words: 3.3k

A/N: every dynamic described here, belt spanking - exhibitionism - kneeling - Dom!Alexia and sub!reader, are dynamics that both Alexia and reader consensually want normally. The Alexia of this story considers safewords (as everyone should) fundamental, for her they must be respected and said whenever the need is felt; she would never deliberately decide not to respect them. Her failure to respect the safeword in this story was involuntary and, as soon as she realizes that the reader said it, she stops immediately.

You're against the bedhead, your body curled up in a fetal position, contorted by sobs.

Your eyes are closed, sealed shut, while tears continue to flow copiously down your cheeks, wetting the pillowcase.

Your hands grip your calves with an iron grip, so tight that you'll probably have finger marks.

Your cheeks burn, almost as if you can still feel the belt hitting them. You can feel it there, touching your skin.

Every whimper, every flinch, hurts, hurts your whole body.

"Amor."

You close in on yourself even more.

You had said the safeword.

You had said it.

You had pronounced it, you are sure.

There is no chance she hadn't heard it.

Right?

You had said it several times.

Two? Three?

Maybe it's true, you whispered it and didn't say it clearly, but you said it.

You couldn't take any more belt lashes.

You knew Alexia needed it, needed to dominate you, as much as you wanted to be submissive.

But from the start, the dynamics had been wrong.

Alexia wanted something too rough, while you wanted something prolonged but lighter, less painful.

Alexia wanted to physically punish you, you wanted to be tied up and edged.

When you tried to contradict her, without using the safeword, she didn't understand, and to not disappoint her, you had continued.

You had tried to enjoy it, to convince yourself that you wanted it this way.

She hadn't checked the safeword even once, when normally she would before every action, aware of how sometimes you struggle to express how you feel, and so you believed you deserved it.

It had started when she asked you to undress to your underwear outside the front door of the house. Alexia and you have the only apartment on the top floor of the building, no one could see you, and you weren't strangers to this exhibitionist dynamic, once you had practically had sex on the landing. You both knew you liked that dynamic, but something inside you told you it wasn't what you wanted, that the humiliation of facing Alexia in your underwear and bra while she was dressed up to her coat was too much. You tried to protest, eyes wide and lips parted, but she ordered you again to undress.

And so you did, while she stared at you, as usual, with her back against the wall, arms crossed and legs slightly apart. Something in the aura she emitted, however, almost frightened you, and so the horniness you had felt before the car ride turned into anxiety.

Once in your underwear, you tried to pick up your clothes from the floor, but she ordered you to stay on your knees on the ground. This too was a common dynamic, you on your knees in front of her, sometimes naked and she dressed, sometimes both naked; it was one of the ways Alexia used to start a scene, and you liked it. But that time you almost had trouble looking at her, you wanted to beg her to stop, but you knew that during this part of the dynamic she hates begging, so you waited for her to put her hand on your cheek, to hit you lightly a couple of times with her palm, a pat-pat, and put the collar around your neck; then she told you that you could enter the house, your house, crawling. You were on the verge of tears, but you were good at hiding it, and Alexia was too immersed in her head, in her thoughts, to notice.

She had immediately ordered you to go to the bedroom, to kneel on the floor naked in the usual position, and you had complied.

But you had made a mistake.

You had stood up, the attempt to get away from her, from that dynamic, had prevailed, but in doing so, you had broken the rules.

Alexia hadn't told you that you could stand up.

She had told you that you were such a disobedient slut, that she thought she had trained you enough, that you had disappointed her.

You swallowed the lump in your throat in an attempt not to cry, and probably she had thought you only felt guilty as you always did when you broke even the smallest rule; in this way, she had interpreted the situation as normal, but she was wrong.

She had clumsily told you to go on the bed, on all fours, ready to receive your punishment. She had tugged at the collar slightly and then told you that you had to crawl. You had done it quickly, scared of her, of what could happen.

The headspace you were in was the wrong one, the most dangerous one for this type of scene, but Alexia hadn't asked for any safeword, and you were afraid to communicate.

You didn't know where it came from, you still don't know now. She had always emphasized how communication was essential, how she would never get angry because you used a safeword, how she would get angry if you didn't communicate.

You had already told her several times the yellow and red safewords, and Alexia had always reacted by interrupting the scene and taking care of you, reassuring you that you had done the right thing, that she was proud of you.

Perhaps that's why you were scared now, maybe everything had been too perfect, too healthy, to be true.

She then entered the room, her energy so palpable was so terrifying, and she had told you she would punish you with the belt, with twenty lashes. Many more than any other time, and it certainly hadn't been a violation so serious as to lead to this consequence, this punishment.

She hadn't asked you your safeword again, and you hadn't said it, too afraid you might make the situation worse.

The vicious circle of fear of angering her was taking hold. The fear of making a mistake pushed you to accept anything to end it, she would continue until the end and the pain would increase more and more while your fear of interrupting the scene grew exponentially.

She had positioned herself behind you and, in complete silence, had started hitting you so hard that only by biting the pillow could you muffle the cries of pain.

Again, she hadn't checked, but this time, after what seemed like the umpteenth lash, but probably only the fifth, you had said the safeword, you had uttered a faint "red."

But she had continued.

You had tried to say it again after the next two lashes, now your cheek was against the pillow, so she should have been able to hear it, but she hadn't stopped.

Was it perhaps the tenth lash when you said it again?

But she hit you again, as if she were deaf to your words, and when the belt impacted your flesh, you had snapped against the headboard, in the fetal position, your hands gripping your calves with an iron grip.

Now you continue to whisper the safeword through sobs, too afraid she would continue, that she would punish you for escaping the punishment.

"Amor," she had asked again, her voice frightened.

You continued to squeeze convulsively, terrified she might hurt you. "R-red… re-d."

"Yes, amor, red, I'm stopping, okay?"

You flinch when you hear a thud, pressing yourself even harder against the headboard.

"The belt is on the floor now, okay? Can I sit on the bed?" Her voice was cautious, but clearly frightened, terrified of what she had done, of how she had reduced you.

Terrified by the fact that she was so deep in thought that she didn't hear you say the safeword, those whispery murmurs that she mistook for the usual moans you make when she punishes you with spanking.

Terrified by not having understood from the beginning that something was wrong, that you weren't ready and weren't in the right headspace to start this type of dynamic.

"Red," you say again, maybe responding to her question, maybe terrified of what had just happened.

"Okay, okay, it's all right, amor. I won't sit on the bed, okay?" you nod, frightened, as if not believing she would listen to you. "Can I go get some water and the oil from the bathroom? I'll leave the door open so you can see me."

You don't respond, and she takes it as a yes, you can go. So she starts walking towards the bathroom, her footsteps light against the floor, but when you hear them grow louder, a sign she's coming back, you tighten your legs to your chest with more force, scared that she might have something else in her hands, maybe another belt or something to hurt you.

"Can I put the water bottle and the oil on the bed? Near you, in the middle of the bed, so you can reach them, okay?"

You swallow your saliva, not knowing what to do. Your head starts to pulse, a dull pulse echoing in your ears and head, making it almost impossible to focus on anything else.

Alexia waits for your consent to do anything, too aware that she has broken it, perhaps irreparably, with those lashes. If normally, after the safeword, you need reassurance as well as to know what is happening, what she is doing, in the smallest details, now more than ever she must wait for you to allow it.

After what seems like an eternity, you nod, but you shift your back against the headboard before she can even realize you are communicating with her, too afraid she might use it to hurt you again, too high the need to put more physical distance between you.

She does as you told her, you see her, blurred by tears, placing the water bottle and the oil in the middle of the bed, then moving very slowly towards the foot of the bed, before standing up again.

You look at each other, she doesn't say anything, she doesn't know what to say.

What should she say?

You don't even know either.

The flesh of your cheeks hurts, a pain that has penetrated deep into your bones, pulsating throughout your body.

Then, when your throat is too dry, you reach out for the water bottle, grab it, and pull it quickly towards you, as if you were afraid she would grab your hand, push you towards her.

"It's lukewarm, so you can drink as much as you want," Alexia explains, but you don't gesture that you heard her.

Your hands tremble uncontrollably, your fingers barely able to grasp the plastic cap, but she doesn't ask if you want any help. She knows that asking would scare you even more, that you would be even more frightened, so she waits, now sitting on her heels, watching you. A painful grip on her chest, guilt advancing and tears threatening to come out, the realization that she has done something so bad as to be probably irreparable.

At the umpteenth attempt, you manage to open it and bring it to your lips, then gulp down a few sips of water.

Your mind slightly clears, thoughts ceasing to swirl in complete chaos.

"Feeling better?" Alexia asks again, but this time you respond with a nod.

"Everything hurts," you say, a phrase thrown into the air of the room, the awareness that you don't even know what hurts the most. She doesn't respond, she doesn't know what to say.

"Can I sit on the bed?" she asks as if you hadn't said anything before.

You hesitate, taking another sip of water.

Alexia knows she shouldn't force things, but she also knows that the solution isn't to sleep on the couch and leave you alone.

She can't leave you alone.

You nod, but you scoot even further against the headboard when you see her rise too quickly.

"Okay, now I'll sit here, on this corner of the bed, okay?" You just stare at her, watching that body still fully dressed sit on the bed you normally share.

Alexia wonders if you'll share it again once this infernal night is over.

"Can I sit cross-legged?" She doesn't even know why she's asking you. Maybe she wants you to understand that you have the power to choose, maybe she wants to explain to you why every little movement, maybe because she needs consent for every little action.

You swallow your saliva and still don't gesture to acknowledge her, so she remains with her feet on the ground, legs pointed towards the end of the bed and her torso slightly turned towards you. She stays like that for an indefinite time, maybe you're testing her?

Are you trying to understand if she'll do what you say?

Then you nod, and only then does Alexia move her feet onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and her torso completely turned towards you.

"Everything hurts so much."

You know that the tone of voice, the voice itself, tends more towards the one of a child, but it's true.

Everything hurts so much.

"I know, little one, I know... we'll fix everything, I'll fix everything, I prom-"

You start sobbing again, the awareness that she knows what she did is wrong killing you inside. The pet name opens a hole of pain in your chest.

This isn't the woman you love. Or is she?

The gasps and moans writhe your body, aching more than ever.

"Can I come closer?" She asks, and she asks so for all the other times necessary to be really close to you. So close that her knees almost touch your feet.

"Little one."

The only thing you can do is move quickly towards one of her thighs, pressing your head against it and your hands on either side, the need for physical contact overriding any fear of her hurting you, any fear of her.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfics #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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delirious-donna · 6 months

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His Hands [Nanami Kento]

an: it's been a hot minute since I wrote for him, but with the latest developments and the insane amount of Kento content on my dash, I couldn't help myself. This is a love letter to his hands...

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: hair pulling, manhandling, light choking, mark marking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mating press, doggy (all implied), some comfort and fluff because he deserves it

Masterlist

Nanami Kento is not a white knight.

He is not a righteous man, nor is he morally virtuous. Nanami makes no qualms about expressing what matters most to him – his time, his students and most importantly, you. If that means he has to stray into the murky grey areas of ethics then so be it. If that means there is collateral damage in ensuring the safety of his precious priorities, it matters not. However, Nanami Kento is a good man.

Fatigue has been his constant companion these past few weeks. His eyes are weary and less focused than usual, his jaw tight with seemingly endless worry and his hair tousled as if he had run fingers through it time and again. You didn’t know the exact cause of his current demeanour, all you did know was that it was your job to relieve it, at least temporarily.

Hazel eyes met yours. A tight smile faint on his lips whilst you moved from being tucked into his side to straddling his lap. Kento’s head fell back against the couch, his gaze bouncing between your eyes, simply content to observe whatever it was you were up to. Your fingers delicately wrapped around his wrist, brushing against the heavy weight of his timepiece and lifting it to your chest. His hands were rough, callouses built up along the edges of his fingertips and palm through extended training and workouts that would see him dripping in sweat.

“Y’know… I’ve always loved these hands.” An exploratory finger ran over his knuckles, the skin shiny and new from where they had not long been split open. It wasn’t an exaggeration–you did love his hands and what they could do.

An amused huff was his reply, fingers flexing in and out of a loose fist whilst you continued your journey over the wide expanse that was his hand—traversing the depths of his life line only to circle down and stroke over the pad of his thumb. How many times had you helped to patch him up after being injured in the line of duty? Too many. Bloody rags filled the bathroom sink and the smell of antiseptic stung your nose, but you’d rather do it yourself than let him tend to himself. There was no point in telling him you worried, he knew that, instead you filled the silence with the mundane moments of your day to distract him from the stark contrast of his horror-filled one.

“They’re strong and they keep me safe,” you muse almost to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Kento’s eyebrows lift. His eyes sharpen, throwing off the dregs of tiredness to watch more fixedly at you touching him with a reverence he didn’t believe he deserved. Would you still love them if you knew what he had done with them? Of the violence they had been a part of, the injuries and deaths he had inflicted with them. As if you didn’t already know…

“Sweetheart–” The argument he had readied fell away when you lifted his hand higher, towards your throat. His thick fingers could feel the steady beat of your pulse, no jump in fear of danger, only complete trust. He swallowed; the bob of his Adam’s apple near painful.

Your breathing sped up, knees shuffling forward to bracket his lean hips and pressing your delicate skin further into his careful grasp. Memories rose to the surface of your mind like stones skimming across a peaceful lake, rippling outward until the phantom sensations of days gone by washed over you.

The searing burn of Kento’s large palm swatting at your soft ass; whether in encouragement when your thighs tired of riding him to completion or in admonishment for some very deliberate attempts at stealing away his attention in the midst of his paperwork.

The gentle grip of your ankles when he folded your thighs flush against your chest to be able to plunge deeper into your sopping cunt. His tender hold was the perfect counterbalance to how savagely he was splitting you open. Lazy circles of his thumbs against your delicate ankle bones all whilst you ringed his cock with thick cream and his pelvis smacked wetly against you.

The prickle of your scalp at the sudden yank at the roots of your hair. That deliciously big, thick hand that you adored wrapping your hair so tightly into a makeshift ponytail that you had no choice but to rear back. Warm breath fanning your cheek and neck, the deep rasp of Kento’s words caressing your ear despite how depraved his words were. “Fuck… that’s it, baby… Taking Daddy’s cock like a champ… Let me see that arch… Look at this pretty pussy sucking me back in…”

Nanami had a way of handling you exactly as you needed at any given moment. He wasn’t afraid you’d break like some fragile doll, knowing that you more than enjoyed his manhandling. He could sense how turned on it made you when he would scoop you up like you weighed nothing. Taking your weight into his arms when he fucked you against the hallway wall in those moments he simply couldn’t wait to reach the bedroom. You were his pliant little cocksleeve. His perfect pussy.

With the rough came the smooth. How tenderly his fingers would coast down the length of your spine in the warmth of the morning, stopping to admire the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips and the ripple of your backside when he squeezed it lightly.

The soft touches against the bruises he had left the night before on your waist and hips. Each one a mark of his possession that he would never fail to become aroused by. The marks of his fingertips, the indent of his teeth on the swell of your sensitive inner thigh. If he were an animal he would scent mark you like the dog he sometimes felt like, rub himself all over you until you were bathed in his musk.

Interlocked fingers and tickles on the palm of your hands. The reassurance that you were by his side when you strolled the sidewalk together, Kento always nearest the traffic and the ability to tug you close with the flick of his wrist.

“I don’t care what these hands might have done to those that deserved whatever fate they befell. All I know is that I love them, and there isn’t anyone I would trust more to hold my heart.”

He nodded, and you knew that would be the best you would get in the form of agreement to your words. The coiled muscles in his forearm tightened, tendons contracting and his fingers squeezing a fraction tighter atop your carotid arteries. You hummed in contentment, eyelids growing heavy and his hand slipped free of your loose hold to rest over your heart whilst the other pressed between your shoulder blades to bring you to his lips.

So, no, Nanami isn’t a white knight but he is the best man you’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet. You would help him face whatever demons were lurking nearby, and with your support and unconditional love, maybe–just maybe–he’d make it back to you in one piece.

Heaven knows he deserved some time off.

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami fluff #jjk smut #jjk fluff

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loveinhawkins · 22 days

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picturing Eddie first meeting Dustin and thinking yeah, he knows how this goes: he’ll be a larger than life, comical figure in this kid’s life for, like, not even a year before he leaves Hawkins High in the dust.

And sure, Dustin is, like, ridiculously endearing even when he’s being a cocky little shit in campaigns, and that suits Eddie just fine, ‘cause he can be a cocky little shit at the best of times, downright obnoxious really, he thinks—a part of him’s never outgrown the juvenile, no matter how many times he repeats senior year.

Plus Dustin is crazily good at solving riddles, so Eddie’s remaining months leading Hellfire are definitely gonna be a fun challenge.

Then March comes.

And Eddie’s shaking apart in a boathouse, seeing impossible, terrible things on a loop in his head, Chrissy, Chrissy, God no, please, and Dustin’s there, with a wisdom far beyond his years, calmly leading him out of the dark.

Eddie half expects it to be a trick, but no. Dustin Henderson believes him.

You don’t know me, Eddie wants to say.

But there’s a constant defiance in Dustin’s expression, even when he’s clearly trying to keep things light and breezy, there’s nothing to worry about! Like he’s just daring for Eddie to contradict him.

There’s something assured in how the kid does things, Eddie thinks. He can see how the years of all this shit have shaped him, have him flitting between maturity and earnestness: something born from a childhood that’s not been lost, just altered.

He watches Dustin walk with Steve Harrington in the woods—can read the shared history and fondness hidden in between layers of snark; they’re family, he knows that without a doubt.

What trips him up is that Dustin keeps looking back, keeps drawing him back into the group with complaints that he’s walking too slow, and his eyebrows are raised meaningfully, like he’s really saying that there’s room for Eddie here, too.

And Eddie doesn’t know how to convey the sudden gratitude he feels closing up his throat—feels too jittery still, too raw to do anything justice.

He keeps close when Dustin tears off through the woods, heart in his mouth as the night darkens, Dustin, can you slow down? Dustin!

He pulls Dustin back from the lake’s edge just in time, then feels Steve’s watchful eyes on him—spots a flicker of approval, like he’s passed some sort of test.

And that feeling only grows the longer he’s around Steve, lying through his teeth in The Upside Down, I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, and Steve’s giving him this knowing sideways glance, like maybe they’re something of the same; Eddie feels a sudden, unexpected rush of joy at the thought, dancing in and out of Steve’s space, still super jealous as hell, by the way.

“I told you, right?” Dustin says, grinning widely as Steve drives them out of Forest Hills at breakneck speed. “He’s awesome.”

And Eddie feels the fondness of his own smile, feels it right down to his core, because he gets that Dustin’s only being so forthcoming because Steve can’t hear him right now.

Kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea.

It hits him then, while roughhousing with Dustin in the grass (a deliberate distraction, trying to make the kids forget about weapons and fire): that he’s never really been the kinda guy who people want to stick around, but now…

Now he’s starting to think that he could be.

Starts to imagine, starts to hope—and that’s huge, something that would’ve seemed impossible mere days ago—as he sees Robin and Nancy laughing at his antics, their weapon-making temporarily forgotten.

They like me, Eddie thinks with wonder, they really like me.

And he wants—sudden and fierce, with all he has—to change the world for them, to make it so Robin Buckley would just be spending spring break watching arty films, dreaming of Paris; so Nancy Wheeler would never need to hide guns in her bedroom, would never have to carry an unimaginable grief.

Steve looks over, too—his laugh carries across the field, and Eddie is caught by the warmth in his eyes; even as Dustin manages to playfully tackle him, he’s still thinking of Steve, and maybe, maybe…

The lightness fades as they go over the plan, but not the emotion: Eddie keeps that tucked away, safe, a promise to himself.

“Uh, are you sure about this?” he says in an undertone to Steve, when it’s first revealed that it’s him and Dustin paired up together.

Steve’s eyes are apologetic, “Sorry, man, I’ve tried every—if there was a way to just, like, sit it out, I’d have—”

“No,” Eddie says urgently, “I mean…” And he points at himself before nodding discreetly to where Dustin is—currently talking up a storm with Erica, something about vents that he can’t make sense of.

“Are you sure?” Eddie presses, trying to put all he’s not saying into the question, I can see how much that kid means to you, I’ve known him, like, six months, Harrington, that’s nothing, why, why do you—

Steve shakes his head. A little smile breaks through his concern. “Yeah, of course,” he says, like it’s nothing.

But Eddie can feel the weight of it. A passing of the torch.

And he doesn’t know how to put what he’s feeling into words: that, apart from Wayne, he’s never really allowed people in, never allowed them to matter like this.

As they drive back to the Creel House, as time runs out and nerves build, he tries to show everything he can’t say; he helps Nancy take stock of supplies, offers Robin his shoulder so she can sleep, and he knows that’s not enough, barely scratches the surface, but it’s all he’s got.

He sits in the back of the RV, watches Steve, tense and silent in the driver’s seat, and knows with certainty what his mission is: get Dustin Henderson safely back home.

And no, Eddie doesn’t know how any of this is gonna go.

But he can hope.

He can try.

#the dynamic between them all makes my heart ache. just working through some thoughts ❤️#eddie and dustin #eddie munson fic #henderfam #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin fic #eddie munson analysis #dustin henderson analysis #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hcs #steddie #eddie and the party #eddie munson ficlet #eddie and dustin ficlet #implied steddie #pre steddie #eddie munson

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dreamlandcreations · 8 months

Text

Imagine Daemon being infinitely amused when you make a scandalous comment to Alicent

Imagine Daemon being infinitely amused when you make a scandalous comment to Alicent who was being a cunt during the celebratory dinner that the King ordered for his family in the event of the birth of your sister's third Strong son.

The Queen's prayer was another not-so-sly remark to Rhaenyra but this comment involved you too so your response was deliberately extra shameless.

"May the Mother bless both princesses with many true heirs," she murmured.

Pretending to be in the belief that she finished, you rise from your seat a little, making an intentionally loud noise with the sliding chair and grab the wine from the opposite side of the table, from right in front of her.

Alicent looks at you with dread as you pour yourself a drink and reply to her taunting. "Yes, well, don't you worry about that, dear. Daemon and I are fucking at every chance so it is bound to happen sooner rather than later."

Your husband chuckles openly while Rhaenyra looks down to hide her smile. The Hightowers are looking at you with a mortified expression, even as Daemon pulls you down back to your seat and leans in to kiss you while he is still unable to hold back his laughter.

#daemon #daemon imagine #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #my stuff #my fics

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months

Note

Can you PLEASEEE write a Hero x Villain only one bed trope! Love ya

"Did you know that single people, on holiday, often pay more than couples because all of the hotel industry is built around the assumption of shared rooms and beds?"

The villain turned their attention from the double bed, the only bed in the room, and back to the hero. They blinked. Once, slow, deliberate.

The hero's met their gaze. "Down with amatonormativity?"

"You're sleeping on the floor."

"Oh, come on. It's not my fault! This is the only room they had."

"You're a hero. Be heroic and heroically take the floor."

"I'm not sure my being a good person extends that far," the hero said, eyeing said floor. "There's not even any carpet."

"Well, we can't share!"

"Only child, huh?"

"Don't fish for information about me."

The hero's lip twitched with a maddening and entirely too endearing amusement. "If you're worried about me attacking you in your sleep, I don't think my being on the floor is going to save you."

"I don't think - it's not that -" The villain felt colour rise up their face. They folded their arms. "It's not weird that I don't want to share a bed with you."

The hero's head tilted, studying them for a long moment, before they shrugged. "Fine. Bed's yours. I'll grab the chair."

The villain eyed the chair. It only looked fractionally more comfortable than the floor; less hard, but also significantly more cramped given the hero was hardly small.

"So, what," they demanded. "You'd be just fine sharing with me?"

"It's just a bed," the hero said. "I'm going to be unconscious, all things going well."

"What if we accidentally end up touching each other?"

"I already said you could have the bed."

"Well, now I feel bad!" the villain snapped. "I'm taking the chair. I don't need more reasons to encourage your sanctimonious attitude!"

With that, they strode into the small shared bathroom to change and firmly locked the door.

When they returned, the hero had already fetched a spare blanket from the cupboard. It was large-enough, if a little worn. They'd squished themselves onto the chair.

"I said I'm taking the chair," the villain said. "My god. Do you have to win at everything?"

"I know I got us into this mess."

The villain stopped short, not expecting the quiet words.

"I can take the chair," the hero said. "Not being sanctimonious. It's really just fine, okay? I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or whatever."

The hero looked up at them, with an expression that the villain couldn't quite read. Whatever it was seemed earnest.

The villain swallowed.

They got into the bed, on the side furthest from the hero and the chair. They switched the lights off. They heard the hero shift and shuffle, trying to get comfortable. The villain could see the beautiful curve of their face illuminated in a small shaft of moonlight, the hunch of their shoulders, when they glanced over.

The villain glared at the dark ceiling for several long minutes.

"...Just get in the bed."

"What?"

"Get in. We can share."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me say it again. You look ridiculous. Like a lion trying to fit into a shoebox."

"If it fits, it sits."

"Well, you obviously don't fit!"

A brief silence passed, before the villain heard the hero move and felt the mattress dip. The hero kept to the far side of the bed, oh so respectfully, but the villain could still feel every inch of space between them. They folded their arms across their chest.

"Would it help to tell me what you're worried is going to happen?" the hero asked.

"No."

"Okay."

Another brief silence passed. "Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?" the hero asked.

Their voice was different in the darkness. Softer, somehow.

"Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?!"

"No?" the hero sounded bewildered. "I never said it was?"

The villain ground their teeth, even as their stomach gave a stupid little flip. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

"Goodnight."

The villain couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever wished them that. It caught them unexpectedly, in the gut and the throat. Winded. Fatal wound.

They glanced over at the hero again. They had their eyes closed, seeming perfectly at ease now that they were no longer scrunched up.

No. It wouldn't be hideous to touch them, not at all. It wouldn't be ghastly at all to roll across the expanse of mattress and wrap their arms around the hero's stupidly broad body, to nestle their face against the hero's shoulder, to hold the solidness of them.

Accident-smachident. The villain hated everything.

The hero fell asleep within ten minutes. The villain listened to the steady metronome of their breath, aching. Three hours later, the hero made a soft sleepy little sound and rolled, nuzzling their head against the villain's chest. A tangle of limbs.

The villain snagged their phone off the side table and held it up to take a selfie, making sure to look as unimpressed as possible. Just in case. For the morning. So the hero would know they didn't start it.

Then, and only then, did they finally melt and fall into the sweetest sleep they'd had in a long time.

Bonus:

#heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #villains and heroes #writing #short story #only one bed #tropes #enemies to lovers #writeblr

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j3llyd0nut · 5 months

Text

Look at You

ೀ Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: 18+ (mdni), comfort fic, hurt/comfort, small age gap, mirror sex, pet names (sweetheart, my love, angel, princess), nipple play, fingering, double orgasm (reader), oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex, soft dom!Leon, playful banter.

W/C: 2.5k

A/N: can be read as a continuation of Look at Me or standalone (thinking about di & re6 leon while writing this but any ver of him works!)

Amidst the twilight's gentle embrace, Leon fills the tub with warm water for the both of you to cleanse away the grime and stains of the day. The bathroom is filled with the calming scent of lavender bath salts as they dissolve into the warm water, transforming the space into a fragrant haven.

As he waits for the tub to fill with water, he slowly rises from his kneeling position, his joints creaking as he straightens. He leans lightly on the sides of the tub for support, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he eases the strain from his tired muscles.

“Sweetheart?”

He calls out for you, yet you remain unaware as you stand in front of the mirror. Negative thoughts swirl through your mind like a relentless storm. Your gaze fixes on your reflection, but your eyes hold a vacant, unfocused stare.

Approaching you with a silent, practiced grace, he calls out your name once more, his years of training unintentionally guiding his steps deliberately and silently. Too lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, a startled gasp escapes your lips as he extends a gentle, reassuring hand to rest on your shoulder.

“You scared me,” you admit, placing a hand over your racing heart after his sudden appearance. Nervously, you begin to fumble with the necklace adorning your neck—a cherished gift from him, a heart-shaped locket engraved with both your initials and his.

“Sorry, my love; a force of habit.” Leon offers you a warm smile and tenderly envelops you in his muscular arms. With a soft and affectionate sigh, he nestles his face into the delicate curve of your neck. “Thoughts too loud tonight?” He murmurs against the nape of it, the soft sensation of your skin beneath his lips prompting a gentle nibble.

“Hmm," you respond, and your gaze rises to meet the reflection in the mirror, where his figure seems to envelop you completely. A warm smile spread across your face as you felt the depth of his affection and presence. The weight of your thoughts begins to lift, and a glimmer of solace breaks through the clouds of your troubled mind.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he whispers gently as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses along the nape of your neck, each one a sweet declaration of affection. His calloused hands slide down under your shirt, touching your hips in a way that is both tender and seductive. The sensation is a mix of relaxation and intimacy, as he moves his fingers in soothing, circular motions, melting away any lingering tensions.

God, he is perfect.

“This is enough,” you say, shaking your head as you settle back into his embrace, your fingers tenderly tracing patterns over his hands.

“But you’re still tense. Let me help that for you,” he whispers. In truth, you weren’t tense at all; he simply craved a reason to be closer to you after the long day. You release a sigh of surrender. There's no use in resisting him; he's one stubborn man. "Alright, old man," you concede.

“Old man? I’m just a few years older than you,” he chuckles.

“Still old; I heard your knees crack earlier,” you remark, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“Oh, you heard it alright, but when I called your name, you ignored me,” he teases, giving your cheek a playful pinch.

Your smile falters, guilt washing over you. “I didn’t mean to... I just zoned out,” you admit. He observes the not-so-subtle shift in your expression through the mirror and gently guides you to face him. Sensing your uneasiness, he cups your face, prompting you to look up at him. “I know, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about it,” he reassures, sealing his words with a soft peck on your forehead.

His warm breath is fanning your lips as he comes in closer. “Can I kiss you?” His eyes remain fixed on yours, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. You nod, giving him your consent, and feel the tender touch of his lips meeting yours.

His lips mould with yours, and he scoops you off your feet with effortless strength tinged with tenderness. Swiftly, he places you down on the sink countertop, allowing your ass to perch on the smooth surface.

“You truly are a beauty.”

His eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you, utterly captivated by your beauty bathed in the soft, amber glow emanating from the mirror. This gentle radiance delicately highlights your features, creating a luminous aura surrounding you, making you even more captivating in his eyes.

“Really?” Your smile wavers, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as his compliment reaches your ears.

“Angel,” his voice holds a firm tone as he locks eyes with you. “I’ve seen the way guys look at you. Makes me a lucky man to be your boyfriend.” He gently cups your face and playfully squishes your cheeks together.

“Me? No way.” You protest and chuckle softly, feeling your cheeks puff under his gentle hold. Despite the affectionate gesture, another subtle tug of uncertainty lingers within you. You fidget slightly, caught between a desire to embrace his words and your own inner struggle with self-doubt.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.” With a mischievous smirk, he starts planting a trail of kisses along your neck; each kiss ignites a trail of goosebumps along your skin. His rough hands, filled with urgency, slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, eagerly exploring the warmth of your skin. He skillfully unclips your bra, allowing it to fall away as he gradually removes your shirt and necklace from the fabric without causing any twisting of the chain—ensuring you can keep wearing that precious piece of jewellery.

“So soft.”

Leon leans closer to your chest, his lips grazing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. His tongue flicks out and teasingly traces circles around your nipple, causing it to harden from his ministrations and the cold air from the bathroom.

“Leon, off.” You give a subtle tug on his shirt, urging him to remove it.

“Anything for you, princess.” He chuckles softly and proceeds to remove his shirt, loosening his belt with a single smooth motion. “You’re so demanding sometimes, but that’s what I love about you.” He takes your nipple into his mouth again, sucking and nibbling on it while he pinches and teases the other with his fingers. The sensation made you arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips.

A smug smirk plays on Leon’s lips, clearly pleased with the impact he's making on you. His hands roam your body, tracing the curves of your sides before settling on the waistband of your pants. With a smooth motion, he slides them off along with both your pants and underwear, cascading them down to the floor.

His fingers graze your sensitive folds, moving them up and down. Your breath hitch in your throat at his touch. “Leon,” you whine, your tone carrying a hint of playful warning. “Be patient, okay? I’ll give you what you want soon.” He tenderly places a gentle kiss on your forehead and continues to tease you.

“Let me make you feel good first.” Leon runs his fingertips along your slick entrance, feeling the heat and wetness pool around them. He then delves his fingers deep, exploring every inch of your velvety walls. He knows where your sensitive spot is, like the back of his hand, increasing his pace as your body responds to his touch eagerly.

Your uncontrollable moan echoes loudly, hands clenching the countertop as waves of pleasure wash over you. Leon watches you intently; his eyes fill with a hunger that matches your own. He knows you are close, so he adds a third finger in you while his thumb circles around your clit, applying the right amount of pressure and speed.

He finally pushes you over the edge with a few more well-placed strokes. You cry out his name as your body convulses, pleasure radiating from your core and spreading throughout your body. While you’re coming down from your high, Leon draws his fingers out and licks off your juices from his fingers.

"You okay?" he whispers, his lips gently brushing against your forehead, his voice carrying a tender concern as he enfolds you into his embrace. “Yeah, just need a moment,” you murmur against his bare chest as you cosy up closer to him. “Take all the time you need,” he chuckles softly, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture.

“Can I return the favour?” you ask, your eyes lifting to meet his with hopeful anticipation. “Sweetheart, you can do anything you want to me,” he smiles warmly as his eyes lock with yours. Without wasting any more time, you drop down to your knees, using your discarded pants as a cushion from the cold and hard tiles.

Your hands reach for his loosened belt and undo it with a sense of urgency. Pulling his jeans down to his ankle, you release his hardened cock from its confines. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him slowly at first, locking eyes with him. Leon watches you intently and nods encouragingly for you to keep going.

His breath catches in his throat as you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick the pre-cum off his tip. A low groan escapes him as your lips wrap tightly around his cock, and you begin to suck and bob your head, eager to please him.

“Fuck, angel. Your mouth feels so good.” He growls and sets his hand on your hair.

You let out a moan from his praise, and the vibrations from it sending shivers of pleasure through him. You begin to play with his balls as your tongue swirls around his cock, adding an extra layer of pleasure. His hips also begin to move, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

The wetness and warmth of your mouth, the way your tongue works like magic—Leon knows he’s not going to last long as he can feel the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen signalling his impending release. “Sweetheart, stop. I’m gonna cum,” he hisses, his voice filled with tenderness but also authority. However, that does not stop you as you continue to bob your head up and down.

He calls out your name with a warning tone and bites his lower lip. “I’m serious; I want to come in you.” Your long nails grip tightly on his firm thighs in response; the taste of him and the way he’s filling your mouth only fuel your desires. He growls from the sharp pain of your fingernails and gently tugs you off him by the hair, denying you the satisfaction of completing your task. “I told you to stop, didn’t I?” He smirks at you when he sees your eyes filled with lust and frustration.

He lifts you to your feet and gently spins you around to face the mirror, your hand resting against the cold surface for support, and you can feel his throbbing cock pressing against your inner thigh. “Now, be a good girl and let me do all the work.” A deep, throaty chuckle escapes him as he leans closer, his lips grazing against your ear in a whispered breath.

You nod faintly and let out a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. As you arch your back against him, he firmly grasps your hips, tightening his hold. His pace is relentless as he drives into you again and again. “Look at you. So pretty just for me,” he smirks, gently guiding your face upward to meet your own reflection in the mirror.

You glance up, noticing your lips slightly swollen from sucking his cock, your eyelids drooping in blissful pleasure. You moan loudly at the sight of him thrusting from behind, the rhythmic motion causing your necklace to sway against your chest with each movement he makes. Leon relishes the sight through the mirror too; with each thrust, he can feel your walls tightening around him—you are close.

You arch your body over the cool surface, which quivers in response to your trembling waves of ecstasy. “No, no, no, sweetheart. I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you,” he carefully guides your jaw back up, his voice husky with desire. You whimper softly, parting your eyes behind your lowered lids. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with the heady scents of sweat, sex, and the lingering lavender bath salts, heightening the intensity in the air.

As the climax draws near, a final thrust of his cock and your fervent grinding against him brings you to a powerful release. Your body shudders with ecstasy as you come. Sensing your release, he can't contain himself any longer, his own euphoria crashing over him as he cums in you.

Leon’s chest rises and falls with exertion as he pulls out of you, his cock glistening with a mixture of your cum and his. He watches as you lean against the cool surface, your breaths ragged and heavy from the aftermath. “Just breathe in and out slowly. I’m right here,” he whispers, trailing tender kisses along your exposed back.

You chuckle softly, finding amusement in how delicately he’s caring for you after fucking your guts like an animal in heat. Pausing his kisses upon hearing your chuckle, he questions, “What is so funny?” Propping yourself up on one elbow, hand cradling your head, you tease, “Oh, nothing, old man,” playfully rolling your eyes at him.

“Call me 'old man' again, and I might just toss you into that icy bath," he quips with a playful threat in his tone.

“Old man,” you retort, a wide grin lighting up your face.

“Ah, you’re in for it now,” a mischievous grin spreads across his face as he swiftly lifts you. Caught off guard, you squeal at his sudden movement as he carefully tosses you into the cold water. “Leon!” you pout, pushing your wet hair away from your face in mock annoyance.

Leon laughs so intensely that he doubles over, clutching his stomach, unable to contain the joy bubbling out of him. His laughter echoes the bathroom, shoulders shaking with each joyous outburst, as he finds himself hunched over, thoroughly amused by your expression.

Growing a tad annoyed by his laughter, you grab him and pull him into the large bathtub. His laughter abruptly stops, replaced by a stunned expression on his face. "Payback," you say, flashing him a smug smile.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, princess. You win," he chuckles, offering your lips a light peck as a peace offering.

“You’re lucky; you’re cute,” you respond, returning the kiss.

“Hmph, so now I’m cute,” he snorts, breaking away from the kiss.

"Get up, let's hop into a warm shower together. Can’t risk my girl catching a cold," he says, playfully rolling his eyes while still smiling. He rises to his feet and extends his hand towards you.

You gaze at him, your eyes twinkling mischievously. "Carry me," you request with a playful pout, gesturing towards your slightly sore backside because of him. "Alright," he chuckles, effortlessly scooping you up and heading towards the shower, well aware that he'll need to indulge your eagerness later to scrub him with the cherry blossom body scrub you've been so excited to use on him for days.

#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil #death island leon #resident evil 6 leon

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anantaru · 11 months

Note

okay but imagine making out w kazuha

cw. making out with kazuha <3, gn! reader

smooth lips— as smooth as silk, follow the trace of your jaw as kazuha without required haste, moves himself to your lips at last.

to the casual eye, he was suavely charming, a man who did not fear any forthcoming adventures ahead of himself. yet you— his sweet love, knew a whole different side of him that he deliberately kept concealed— one which was littered with deep, passionate feelings.

your kazuha was gentle and kind, sweet and wonderful while his love for you burned like a raging fire, though he portrayed this flickering emotion as unruffled and calm as a serene sea.

now, another precise twist and his skilled tongue rangers over your wet muscle, mapping out each and everything you gifted him— and the man catches himself molding into the shape of your lips as if attempting to fuse and relish your warm touches in double measure.

kazuha catches a shortened chime and laughs softly when he listens to your whimpers, a humming and soft kind of laugh that felt suited for this feverish situation, "am i moving too fast for you?" he wonders, voice low and sultry, bordering on becoming even sweeter.

"tell me." he plants a tempting peck on the tip of your nose, "and your wish is my command."

"no, don’t worry you're not." you smile away the gleaming flustered expression on your face, kissing his lips again, "you’re not at all—" and cut him off at last as your tongue slithered past his mouth again. kazuha deeply hums into your kiss as he slides his hands up your sides and something in your throat must've snapped as you whined out yet again, maybe it was the way he touched you, the way he added enough softness while alarming you of his need.

profoundly was the reason a more simple one— you're face to face, squeezed into one another and thirsty, and you breathe a little heavier when you heard your boyfriends first little gasps and hisses.

kazuha was just unfairly sexy, it almost stung and pained you to have someone so beautiful worship your every square. and then you remember that above everything and all, of course, he was yours and you were his.

no words couldn't possibly describe this pleased gratefulness ..

.. though a couple kisses certainly could.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kazuha smut #kazuha x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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stairain · 1 year

Text

Vegas Redemption.

You spot Spencer at a hotel lounge alone, you see has a ring on his finger, but that doesn't stop you.

Warnings: Dom + Rough Spencer, sort of switch reader, brat reader, light drinking, cheating, his wife is cheating on him too so don't worry, cunnilingus, hair pulling, mentions of Spencer getting reader pregnant.

WC: 7K

A “business trip” is what you had told your friends, when you packed your bags for the weekend and all too eagerly got on a plane to Vegas. After all, being coined the “city of sin” and going just for business seemed foolish.

Adorned in elegance and dripping in determination, you made your way from your hotel room to the bottom floor with a fiery look of pursuit in your sultry eyes.

You're walking through the cozy and sultry atmosphere of the hotel lounge, the bar immediately catching your eye. It wasn't because of the wide range of drinks they had on display, nor was it the colorful light fixtures they had installed above said drinks. It was because a beautiful stranger was sitting alone at the bar, keeping to himself as he sipped on his drink.

You waltz over to him, subtly going to sit a few seats away from him, you couldn't pounce just yet.

He sits at the bar, drinking quietly. The only sign that he's noticed your presence is a slight turn of his head to the side, his eyes fixed on his glass in front of him. He keeps his back straight and his hands on the counter. When you sit close to him, his eyes look up at you and he smiles briefly before taking another sip of his drink. His expression returns to complete indifference when his eyes return to his glass, and he takes another slow, deliberate sip. The drink is probably an expensive scotch.

As he raises the glass to meet his lips, you squint and look at his finger. A ring. The man was married.

But that did nothing to deter you, in fact, it only made you want him more. You would make him yours, he wouldn't belong to whatever woman sported the other ring, not after tonight.

After you order a drink of your own, you slowly get up from your seat, and migrate to the one directly next to him. A playful smile is plastered on your face.

You can see him look at you briefly as you move closer, and the corner of his mouth lifts very slightly - the barest hint of a smile - before he returns his attention to his drink. He doesn't say anything, but you notice that he sets the glass down more gently than he needed to, in a way that shows he doesn't mind having you close.

You tilt your head to the side a bit as he doesn't immediately look at you, but still flashes the tiniest smile. "What brings you here? Business trip, vacation.. an escape, maybe?"

Your tone is teasing, insinuating that he was here to get away from whatever wife he has at home, whatever wife he would inevitably be taken away from anyways.

He looks up at you when you speak, the faintest smile on his face, and he runs his thumb along the edge of his glass in the most casual way, as though he's doing it purely out of idle habit. His eyes scan you for a moment, his gaze stopping over your face and body for just a moment too long before returning to the glass. He seems completely relaxed. His tone is calm and almost lazy when he speaks, and he almost seems amused by you.

"An escape."

Bingo. That was the exact answer you were hoping for. You lean forward a bit and choose your next words carefully.

"From what.. or who..? If you don't mind me asking, Sir."

The only response you get at first is a faint quirk of his lips, followed by a slow sip of the scotch in his glass. When he's finished, he sets the glass down and looks at you with a mild amusement in his eyes.

“What's it worth to you, darling?" His voice is low and soft with a hint of a sarcasm, his hazel eyes studying you calmly, with just the slightest flare of interest lurking just beneath the surface of that studied calm.

The bartender hands you your own glass, and you raise it to your own lips, licking over them in a teasing manner before taking a small sip.

"Everything, depending on your answer."

He lets out a low chuckle after you speak, and you can see a trace of genuine amusement in his eyes now. His eyebrows raise in a playful way, as though he's impressed, but his tone remains calm when he speaks.

"Is that so? Very well then."

He turns in the barstool to face you, leaning in casually and running his right palm over the back of his neck for just a moment before he stops.

"My wife is cheating on me."

You can't help the wicked smirk that creeps on your features at hearing that. Your eyes flash from his ring, back up to his mysterious eyes. Taking another sip from your drink, your other hand reaches out to touch the ring on his finger. You don't say anything.

His smile only grows with your smirk, and you can see the playfulness in his gaze deepen slightly as your hand reaches out and touches his ring. His dark eyes never leave you, and you can see that playfulness in the faint quirk at the corner of his mouth and the twinkle in his eye, as though you both know that he's not planning on staying married for much longer.

"And you want a chance to replace her, don't you?"

His tone is neutral, but there is an undercurrent of amusement in his voice. Something in his expression dares you to say it aloud.

Quickly looking up at him and stopping your movements, your smile only grows. Your touch retracts from him, and you lean back into your own seat.

"What are my odds, sir?" You say with a cocky tone, lifting your glass to your mouth.

He laughs, as though he appreciates your boldness. You can see the amusement in his eyes grow, and it's clear that your confidence is having a definite effect on him. His voice is tempting when he responds, and the corner of his mouth tilts up in a teasing smile.

"Very high, as long as you play your cards right, sweetheart."

"If you're the one dealing the cards, it seems I've already won.."

The tone in your voice has significantly lowered, but the confidence and cockiness never left, if anything, it only grew. This man would be yours, and by the end of the night, you'd hope to pawn that ring of his and buy him a one way ticket to your place.

He smiles at you as he takes another sip of his drink, holding his position for a moment before he leans a little closer and speaks in a soft tone.

"Now darling, it wouldn't be any fun if I just gave the prize away so easily, would it? Do you know how to play your part, or do you need me to help teach you?" His voice is quiet with a hint of an invitation in it, his smile playful and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom.

"Tell me what to do, and I'm yours." Your chin lowers as you stare at him right in his own piercing eyes, as if trying to challenge him.

His tone is low, and you can hear the amusement still in it when he speaks. He meets your gaze, his eyes glassy with desire, and he pauses for a moment before the corner of his mouth curls up into a wicked smile. He leans even slightly closer as he speaks, and his voice is a purr.

"Make me want you, darling.”

"Already done, Sir." You arrogantly lean back in your seat and take a sip of your drink, looking unamused.

He laughs at the cockiness in your voice, his smile growing. In the corner of your eye you notice a couple of other people have turned to stare at both of you, and you can tell at least one of them is intrigued by the scene unfolding between you two. Your confidence seems to be having that effect on people.

"So you've already caught my attention, then? That's half the battle. Your next move will have to be enough to make me want to keep you."

"Tell me the part you want me to play then, sir. I don't mind a challenge."

He lets out the ghost of a chuckle.

"Tell you what..." He reaches into his suit coat and pulls out a business card, leaning forward as he sets it on the bar between you. His expression is relaxed, his eyes studying you calmly, and his tone is serious as he speaks.

"How about I invite you to my hotel room? That way I can show you exactly how badly I want you."

You swallow at his words, and pick up the card, trading it for the glass in your hand.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

You look back up to him and nod.

"Lead the way, Doctor.”

He smiles at you, his gaze roaming over your face and body again before he nods towards the door. "My room is on the top floor." He stands up from the bar, waiting just long enough for you to get up as well before he begins to walk towards the door and makes his way to the elevator, his movements deliberate and confident.

"I expected no less from a man like you, Sir." You follow behind him like a dog, trying to keep up.

"Then I expect no less from a girl like you." His shoots back and he reaches out as you follow him towards the elevator to give you a wink. His eyes dart up and down you in that subtle way he had, and his eyes linger on your legs for even just a moment too long before he pulls the hotel room key out of his suit pocket and swipes it through the elevator, waiting for the doors to open before he steps inside, holding the door open as he turns to look at you expectantly.

You walk into the elevator silently, and stare up at him longingly as he walks in and presses the top floor, then stands right next to you. The stretch of his arm, his tall back, it was already driving you mad. There's desire running all throughout your body, and you don't know if you could wait the entire ride up to keep your hands off of him. He no doubt would be able to feel the utter desperation radiating off of you.

His eyes never leave you as he presses the button for the top floor, and you can tell that he enjoys the effect he has on you. You can see that it only adds to his allure for you, and the closer you get as the elevator rises, the harder it would be for him to resist if you were to start kissing him right now.

And so he doesn't resist. It's not a second longer until his hands are cradling your head, and your hands are grabbing at his wrists as he pulls you in a fiery, passionate kiss, right in the middle of the elevator. You're taken aback, but that doesn't stop you from trying to kiss him back with the same possessive passion he's pouring into you.

He leans against the elevator wall and pulls you in close with a passion that takes you off guard, the sudden heat of his kiss and the feeling of his hands in your hair taking you by surprise and sending electric shocks through your body. The elevator dings to alert you that you've arrived at his floor, and it takes a moment more before he pulls away from you. His gaze is intense as he looks at you, a low moan rumbling in his throat as he looks at you hungrily.

He licks over his lips once, and swallows.

"You taste like heaven."

It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath and compose yourself after the dizzying kiss, and you breathlessly laugh.

"Just you wait, sir.."

He chuckles, and you can see that the kiss has left him visibly flustered as well. He takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator and to his room. He unlocks it with his key card, but before he opens the door he turns to look at you with a sly smile and raises an eyebrow.

"And just what do you mean by that, darling?"

"It wouldn't be any fun if I just gave the prize away so easily, would it, Sir?" You repeat his previous words back to him, and shoot him a wink. He lets out another low chuckle.

"Well played, dear." He opens the door and steps back to let you go first, and he closes it behind you once you've entered.

You walk in, not before flashing him a playful smirk. As you step in the room, you're immediately met with such a luxurious atmosphere, it almost makes your jaw drop.

The room is luxurious, with plush carpeting and elegant furniture. He gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from a small coffee table, and as he's letting you take in the room he leans against the wall and crosses one long leg over the other.

"Make yourself comfortable, darling, I'll mix you a drink." His tone is still teasing as he looks at you, and he gives you a quick wink as he turns to the built-in bar to grab the decanter of scotch and two thick glasses.

You nod and try not to let your awe take over your entire mind, you were here for a reason. As you sit down, you turn your body to watch him, and you lick your lips at the sight of him in that suit of his, fixing a drink for the both of you.

Spencer smiles when he sees that you're watching, his tone teasing as he speaks.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" He turns back to the decanter as he pours the whiskey into the two glasses, and he looks at you over his shoulder with a look in his eye that suggests you might enjoy him even more once he takes off the suit jacket and tie.

“Too much, Sir." You bite your lip.

“I can fix that, if you’d like…” He turns around completely to face you. He’s holding the two glasses in his hands now, and he flashes you a knowing look before leaning forward and setting them on the coffee table.

He starts to unbutton his suit jacket, but he doesn’t move to take it off yet. His attention is focused on you, as though he’s waiting for a response before he proceeds.

Your eyes snap to his skillful fingers as they push off the buttons of his suit, and you find yourself looking at him with pleading eyes as you give him a gentle nod.

He smiles at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he finishes with the buttons so the suit jacket comes off cleanly and easily. He drapes the jacket over the arm of the other chair, and he flashes you another small, taunting smile before he starts to undo the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Would you like me to take this off as well, or save it for later?” His tone is teasing as he speaks, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this exchange as much as you are.

"Keep it on, sir." You softly command before leaning over and picking up the glass from the table. Your eyes travel up and down his body as you take a sip.

He smiles when you command him, and you can tell he likes the control. He reaches out to grab the other glass, still watching you with soft eyes. His voice is content when he speaks.

"Well then, darling..." He leans forward just enough to place a kiss on the back of your hand, and he looks at you with an expectant smile, his tone tempting as he speaks. "What would you like to do, now that we're alone?"

You subconsciously rub your thighs together, and lightly moan the slight friction it provides to your aching clit. You sigh and smile up at him. "What happened to a challenge, sir? Seems like you're giving it up quite easily for me.."

"We both know you're the prize. So.." He gives you another one of his playful winks, taking a sip of his scotch as the two of you look each other over with a faint smile. His eyes flash down to your legs and he tilts his head to the side, looking over your body again with fervent interest as his expression falls into a dark smirk.

"I think the challenge will be seeing who gives in first."

You set your glass down on the table at his words, then suddenly you're grabbing at his tie and pulling him closer to you, making him stumble a bit.

"Let's see how long you last then, Doctor."

He lets out a soft laugh as you pull him closer to you and he reaches up to place his hands on your hips. His eyes take you in again, and the smirk on his face only grows with every glance. In this moment he's focused entirely on you, and the desire he has for you is palpable, filling the room and growing with each lingering look he gives you.

"Let's see how long you last, darling."

A smirk is all the warning he receives before you're capturing him in a passionate kiss. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips on yours again, and you feel his hands reach out to cradle your face.

He leans into the kiss, his hands holding you close to him and his grip slowly tightening throughout the kiss. The passion in his eyes matches your passion, and the feeling of his tongue against yours is intoxicating. For the moment, there is nothing else in the world that matters except the two of you, and as he pulls you closer he lets out a soft moan against your mouth that sends a shiver down your spine in the best way possible.

You feel the cold metal of his ring pressing into your skin, and your expression quickly turns into a scowl at the feeling. It was mocking you, he was yours now. Without pulling away from the kiss, you use one hand and grab his, and pull the band off of the digit, before throwing it off.

He lets out a soft laugh as you take off the ring and throw it, his kiss never falters and he wraps his arms around you as he continues to hold you close.

"Oh, sweetheart..." His tone is playful, and you can see the smile in his eyes grows even more as he holds you close. His lips are still close to yours as he speaks in a low voice, and you can feel the rumble in his tone.

"You're mine now, sir. Forget her." You yank on his tie once more and pull him back in for another intense kiss.

He lets out another soft laugh as you pull him back in for another kiss, one of his hands sliding down to smooth over your ass as the other gently cups your face. He's still very clearly enjoying this, and as he lets out a small groan against your mouth he pulls away just long enough to whisper his next words in your ear while his hands slowly tighten their hold on you.

"What is it that makes you want me so badly, darling?"

Your hands move to the back of his neck as his lips start skimming along your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck, and licking over your collarbone. Your eyes flutter shut as you respond.

"Saw you sitting alone.. Thought you were so handsome.." Your mouth drops open in a moan when he nips at the flesh of your throat. "Then, saw the ring... Just made me want you so much more, just knew I could treat you so much better than she does."

He lets out a soft laugh, and you can feel his lips grazing your neck. The feeling is like a live wire, sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible. You moan again, and the sound is enough to send a thrill throughout his entire body.

"Is that so?" As his lips brush your skin you can feel the heat in his breath, and he kisses you again, pulling you even closer now. "Is that all it took for you to be ready to take me home?"

"Worked.. didn't it?" You cockily mutter out, your words accompanied by a moan.

"Oh it definitely worked, darling..." He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes watching yours flirtatiously, and he makes no attempt to hide the desire he has for you. "So tell me, sweetheart, what is it I get out of this arrangement?"

As he speaks, he moves both of you so he's sitting on the couch, leaning back against the cushion as you're planted in his lap.

"You leave your wife.. come back home with me, and I'll be yours forever..." You reach down to play with the buttons of his dress shirt, slowly pushing them out of their loops.

His eyes watch you as you play with his buttons, and a smug smile spreads across his face.

"You drive a hard bargain, darling..." He laughs once more, taking in the sight of you as the buttons come undone. He has no intention of stopping you as he speaks. "And what will happen if I say no?"

You give him a small faux pout at his words, you know he's not serious, he's already too deep in this that he can't possibly be serious.

"You really want to leave this hotel room tomorrow, go home to your cheating wife, and think about me for the rest of your life? Wishing it were me in your bed at night, the one you wake up to.."

You lean down to his ear as you seductively whisper your next words.

"The one you get to touch, kiss, and taste..?"

He lets out a soft moan as you lean in and whisper in his ear, causing a shiver to run through him as he pulls you even closer to him.

"You're good at this, you know..." His voice is deep and seductive, a playful grin on his face. "I think I'd rather stay with you, darling."

“You’d be stupid not to, Sir..” You lick over his ear, sending tremors through his body at the feeling.

Spencer lets out another soft moan, his body shuddering from the feeling of your tongue on his ear. He leans back and watches you, a mischievous look in his eye as he's trying to see just how far you'll go.

"And what if I was stupid..?" His tone is still unserious, as if testing you, but he's starting to take charge of the situation now, pulling you closer with his arms and pressing you onto his lap as he leans in and gives you his own passionate kiss.

“You wouldn’t be in this hotel room with me on your lap right now if you were stupid, Sir.” Your hands go to lift the bottom of your dress, teasing him. “You know you made the right decision taking me..”

His eyes flash down to the bottom of your dress as you start to tease him, and his eyes flash back up to yours. He whispers his response in your ear, his voice starting to take on some of that familiar authority and intensity as you continue to tease him.

"Then why don't you help me make sure I never have reason to regret my decision, darling?"

Nodding, you take his large hand in yours and run it under the satiny fabric of your dress, allowing him to caress the soft skin of your hips and waist. As his hands touch your body, you go to finish unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.

He lets out a soft moan as his hand touches your hips, moving his hand up and down your body. Your skin feels so silky under his touch, he could touch you forever as long as you let him.

You can see his eyes looking over you, and he's making good use of every ounce of his self-control to keep from taking you here and now.

"You're not making this easy for me, you know... But I suppose I'll let you continue." His voice is soft but there's still the ever-present hint of playfulness, and the hint of authority that he's starting to let bleed into the conversation.

“You want it off, Sir?” You let one of the straps of your dress fall from your shoulder, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

The man bites his lip, letting out a low groan as you start to let your dress fall, and you can see the desire in his eyes is only growing.

"It's killing me, darling..." His tone is heavy with desire, and his expression is full of want. His eyes are glued to you, and you can tell that all he wants in the world at this moment is to have you, right now, right here.

“Take it off of me then, Sir. Earn your prize.” Your voice is low, teasing, and almost cocky. You’ve already taken him from his wife, and now all you wanted was for him to take control over you.

His eyes watch you with intensity as you speak, and he raises one eyebrow in amusement. "Make me work for it, is that it? Well, I don't mind a bit of a challenge..." He bites his lip once more, and he lets out another low moan as he moves his hand to move your dress the rest of the way off your body.

His hands are moving slowly but purposefully, as if taking his time to admire every little piece of skin he revealed. He lets out a low shiver and a soft moan as he takes in the sight of you in your body, his hands trembling at the sight of you. You can almost feel the electricity fill the air between you as you let him admire every inch of you.

His hands are moving slowly but purposefully, as if taking his time to admire every little piece of skin he revealed. You bite your lip at the primal look in his eyes, and lift your arms when the dress reaches your chest. His eyes land on your bra, and the way it looks like it was made for you, filling the cups deliciously and fitting you absolutely perfectly.

"Why don't we make this a little easier for you, sweetheart."

Spencer practically rips the rest of your dress off your body then leans forward to you into a kiss again, pushing you down onto his lap against the firm bulge in his dress pants. He takes in the smell and sensation of you with that look of desire in his eyes that says everything.

You let out a small huff when his eager hands practically rip the dress off of your body, but you lean further into the kiss as you moan into his mouth at the feeling of him under you.

He lets out a soft laugh at your noise of frustration, but the laugh dies in his throat as you moan into his mouth. He holds you there for a moment, his mouth moving eagerly and messily with yours, before he pulls away and pulls you closer by your waist to hold you to him. His heartbeat is pounding out of his chest as he presses your burning hot skin against him.

You can feel the heat in his eyes as he looks you over, his breath growing heavier as he gives you a look of pure, unbridled desire, his mind starting to fill with filthy arousal and lust.

"Now.. I think I'd like to see what's under that bra first.."

He whispers, his tone still full of desire as he looks you over, as though he's trying to memorize every inch of you.

You don't move, just give him a look of bratty defiance.

"If you want it off, you'll have to take it off yourself."

Spencer laughs at your defiance, clearly enjoying your brattiness, and you can feel his chest rumble as he breathes in and out. His eyes start to travel down your body again, and he bites his lip in want.

"So be it, darling."

There’s an edge of authority to his tone that says you may be in trouble if you continue to refuse.

You’re willing to challenge that.

You raise your brow at him and your tone is entirely too sassy towards a man who you know can ruin you and your body in an instant.

"Then get on with it."

You cross your arms over your chest.

He lets out a low chuckle and a sigh at your response, but he doesn't back down. He leans in and speaks in a soft voice, his eyes shining a bit with a light-hearted threat.

"Don't test me, sweetheart.”

His words are playful and his tone is full of desire but you know he's absolutely prepared to follow through on whatever threats he makes. Despite the threat you can see an amused smile on his face as he's watching to see what you do now.

He sighs but you can tell he's enjoying your defiance, his expression going to a smirk as he looks you up and down, watching you with a hungry eye as he drinks you in.

"I suppose this is what I get for letting a brat like you be my mistress..."

He lets out a soft laugh and gives you another taunting flash of his smile, his tone is suggestive once more and his fingers reach around your small frame to find the clasp of your bra. He’s starting to undo the hooks as his other hand begins to move down your body in anticipation for what will come.

“I’m not your mistress.. You don’t belong to her anymore, you’re mine.”

"Oh, is that so, darling?" His voice is full of amusement, and you can see the glint in his eye that says he's more than happy to play along with your bratty game.

"So what does my sweet little girl want from me, then?" His voice is low, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and lust.

“What she wants is for you to hurry up and undress her." He pulls your bra off of you, and throws it over the arm of the couch, his eyes traveling from the bottom of your breasts back up to your eyes as a grin spreads across his face and he leans even closer to you.

"And what's she going to do if I take my sweet, sweet time?" His words are hushed and accompanied by a playful smirk as he raises his eyebrows at you and you can feel the burning desire in his touch as he moves his hand lower and lower.

"Then she would ask very nicely for you to hurry up." You let out a soft laugh and try to not let his touch down your stomach and waist distract you.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes shining with amusement as he moves his hands around your body. He's clearly enjoying the show, and he's in no hurry to take your clothes off, instead taking his sweet time getting there.

"And even if she asks very nicely, what will I get in return? You have to bargain for these things, sweetheart, you know..”

His touch is gentle but insistent, as his hands move closer and closer to the waistline of your underwear.

"I'll give you whatever you want, Sir." Your body trembled with shivers at how light his touch was on you, almost like he wasn't even touching you as he inched closer and closer to your panties.

He lets out a soft chuckle at the answer, his hands continuing to move as they reach the waistline of your panties.

"We'll see about that, darling..."

His voice is playful, but a little part of you feels the threat in his voice, too. He clearly wants you very badly, and it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that he's not completely joking.

Unexpectedly, Spencer reaches into a cabinet sat next to the couch, and rifles through it for a moment before pulling out scissors. Your eyes widen in confusion and disbelief, and the expression only intensifies when he slots the blades of the scissors between your hip and your panties, and snips. You'd almost swear his eyes are shining a little brighter as he drinks in the sight, being so impatient to take you that he’s cutting your underwear off your body.

“S-Sir..”

You try to reason with him, but it’s far too late. He’s in his own little world as he continues to cut and snip at the delicate lace of your panties, not bothered by your words nor your noises of protest.

There’s nothing you can do but sit there, trembling in his lap as the look of determination and sadism shadows his face. The freezing metal of the blades against your skin do nothing to help your shaking, and it makes the very skin it presses against raise in goosebumps.

Once he’s cut through the lace on both sides of your hips, he sets the scissors down on the table and pulls off the remnants of your underwear with ease. He’s got a sinister glint in his eyes and in his smile as he gathers them in his hand before setting them on the table next to the blades.

“You know, she would’ve never let me do that.. But you..” Spencer laughs wickedly, it almost frightens you. “You.. You’d do anything to make me want you, wouldn’t you?”

You find the bratty attitude you were sporting earlier fizzle into a blazing desire of obedience. Like you weren’t in control of your own body, you nodded. Your lack of speech made him laugh again.

Suddenly, you’re wrapping your legs around his waist as he’s lifting you from the couch and into his arms. You cling to him like you’ve got no other choice, and can’t help but feel exposed in front of the large glass window.

Spencer walks over to the large bed pushed against the wall and throws you down on it, and as you land, your legs are spread, as if on command. He bites his lip at the sight of you spread for him, cunt leaking arousal onto his bed sheets, sticky slick coating your beautiful thighs.

You swallow and watch as he pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his forearms, and runs a hand through his hair before kneeling down in front of you on the bed. He grabs under your thighs and hooks them around the tops of them, flashing that same teasing smile he’s been sporting all night.

You let out a small yelp of surprise when he’s pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, so your pussy was pulsing right in his face, just the way he needed it to be.

“This what you meant when you said ‘Just you wait?’, darling?”

His breath ghosts over your wet cunt, and it makes you let out a small sigh of pleasure. You don’t respond, you know he’s not looking for an answer, he’s just looking for a way to stroke his ego, knowing he’s got you right where you were so reluctant to get to.

“What happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

“Come fuck it and find out.”

Spencer huffs in amusement.

“There you are..”

Is all the warning you get before he’s diving in and burying his scruffy face between your thighs. Your legs threaten to close at the feeling, but he’s already a step ahead of you, holding them down in his strong grip as his tongue licks a long stripe up your cunt, collecting your essence.

A loud moan is pushed out of your throat at the feeling, and your hand instinctively reaches out and down to grab at his messy hair. He only groans at the feeling though..

You’d have to explore that later.

But for now, you couldn’t focus on anything else except the way the thick, wet, muscle of his tongue was swirling around your sensitive clit, sucking and kissing at the nub. He was teasing you, you both knew if he kept this up, you’d be cumming on his face and around his tongue in no time, and you didn’t want that.

You couldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him like that, especially when you know how much shit he’d give you for being able to make you finish that fast.

And still, your head spins with each calculated and tortuous movement his tongue makes over your pussy. He moves down to slide his long tongue into you, finally. You whimper at the feeling and clench around him.

Spencer eats at you like a starved man, and you’ve been pushed to believe that maybe he is. With the way he’s tongue fucking you.. making you gush on his lips and drip down his chin? You can tell he’s needed this for a while.

You lift your head from the bed to look at him, and you can see he’s already staring daggers into you. He shoots you a wink and it almost makes you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Why- oh fuck.. Why don’t you fuck me, sir? I know you want to..” You pant out and grip his hair harder, twisting it in your fist. It makes him moan into your cunt, and the vibration makes you gasp.

He pulls back for a moment, and speaks quickly, like he’s been preparing his answer for a while now.

“Because.. If I fuck you now I won’t be pulling out, can’t get you pregnant til’ I leave my wife, darling.”

And you thought you had been the one to be moving fast. Your legs jolt and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking his cum into you, pushing it deeper and deeper into your womb until you’re full.

The thought of him fucking a baby into you has you whimpering in a panicked frenzy, you were far too close.

“Fuck fuck fuck, sir.. I’m- I’m right there..”

You moan and are pulling at his hair now, it was no doubt painful, but he couldn’t let you know how much he liked it just yet. At your words, he nods from between your legs and his eyes flutter shut.

The movements of his tongue in your and his lips on your folds increase in speed, intensity, and passion. He’s swallowing every spurt of arousal you have to offer him, and fucks you with his tongue quicker than you can even process.

You reach a hand down to play with your clit, but just as quickly as he was fucking you, he just as quickly pulls away with a scornful expression pulling at his eyebrows.

“W-Why’d you stop…? Please sir..”

Spencer moves your hand from your clit and plants it back into his hair, making you grip at the root tightly as he lowers himself back onto you, and murmurs in a controlling voice.

“Hands off, your body belongs to me, sweetheart.”

And with that, he’s attaching his lips around your aching clit, and begins to suck at it like it’s his job. It makes you throw your head back in a silent moan, the pleasure robbing you of your ability to speak or make noises, and even think.

Your mind goes entirely blank at the feeling of him pulling the sensitive nub between his lips and using that stupid mouth of his to bring you to the edge all too fast.

With a pornographic moan, you’re drenching his mouth and chin in your release, your thighs spasming in a desperate attempt to balance out the surge of pure unfiltered arousal that was forced out of you.

Spencer’s greedily swallowing every gush your cunt pumps into his awaiting mouth, and he just can’t seem to get enough. He’s moaning uncontrollably against your pussy as he drinks in everything you’ll give him, and if you weren’t absolutely losing your mind at your orgasm and spilling moans of your own, you’d be enjoying his noises a lot more.

But now, it seems like your body and your release are the only things on both of your minds. You’re shaking, clenching your thighs around his head as your fist pulls so irresistibly at his brown locks.

You’re the one to push him away, and you can’t help but laugh at the sound of absolute dissatisfaction he produces at being denied any more of your release. And you’d be more than content to let him at it, if you weren’t gasping for air and hopelessly shuddering at the after effects of no doubt the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

He’s suddenly laying by your side and pulling you into a desperate kiss, and you can feel the stickiness of his chin against yours as he eats away at your lips. It makes you pull back to chuckle and attempt to catch your breath again, and after a few beats of silence you look around at where half of your garments are torn and destroyed, and you look at him with a pout.

"You ripped my dress.. And my underwear.."

Spencer laughs and rests his head back against the sheets, and you can see his chest rising and falling, he was quite breathless himself.

"I'll buy you an entire new wardrobe, sweetheart, anything you want.."

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