#fell in love with the three of them in the process of this no i don't take criticism

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Three - Gasping For Breath

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

1.7K

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this (like seriously Ken tries to kill her in this one)

Series Masterlist

The stairs to the apartment were even worse in the dark. If she didn't already have which stairs weren't entirely stable memorised, she would have been falling through the floor. 

The apartment was dark when she pushed open the door. Part of her hoped that Ken had gone to bed, but a bigger part of her knew it would have been too good to be true. 

Hanging her jacket on the back of the door, she carefully placed her bag on the sofa and started moving through the apartment. So far so good, she allowed herself to think. 

But, of course, nothing is ever easy. When somebody cleared their throat, she jumped out of her skin, nearly falling to the floor. "Jesus, Ken," she muttered as she straightened herself up. "You scared the shit out of me."

She looked towards the kitchen, where he was sitting in the darkness. She could hardly see him, but she didn't dare move to turn the light on.

"Why are you sneaking in?" He challenged, his voice calm. And that frightened her the most. 

"I didn't want to wake you up," she answered quickly. "In case you were asleep." 

Still, he stared. His face was blank, unreadable. "So, you weren't with anybody?"

She shook her head. "I just lost track of time at the cafe." 

Suddenly he was on his feet, striding towards the window. He moved the curtain to the side slightly and looked out onto the street below. 

It was fine, she said to herself. Bob was a friend and he was probably long gone by now. 

When Ken laughed, her stomach dropped. "Is that the fucking guy from The Hard Deck? The Hangman guy?" He yelled as he turned towards her, spit flying everywhere. 

(Now, dear reader, I feel as though I owe you some context. You see, Bob was in The Hard Deck on the night that Jake flirted with her. He was absorbed in another conversation and didn't see her, not until this stranger was swinging at Jake and Bob had to step between them. Still, Bob didn't notice her, but she didn't notice him. They were too wrapped up in their own distress. So, when Ken saw Bob looking at the apartment building as he walked away, he got the two aviators mixed up.)

"What?" She stared at her boyfriend with furrowed brows. "Ken, that's not Hangman."

"But you were with him." 

She scrambled to find words, tried to work out what wouldn't get her into trouble. But she couldn’t lie to him. He'd know instantly and it would only make things so much worse. "I mean, we met at the café, but I wasn't with him." 

Ken laughed again, but this was bitter. "Somehow, I don't believe you."

When he strode over, she couldn’t stop her body from flinching away. "I never pegged you as a slut, Barbie," he said as he forcefully grabbed her cheeks. 

"Ken," she tried to say, but it didn't come out right, not with the way he was holding her. "Please."

Her cries fell on deaf ears. He moved his face close to hers, almost like he was going to kiss her, but then he pulled away. "I don't kiss sluts, Barbie," he said and let go of her face, pushing her to the floor in the process.

She sniffed, but she didn't cry. Not when she had endured worse. "I'm not cheating on you," she whispered. 

Ken picked her up. It wasn't loving. It wasn't her knight in shining armour scooping her up off of the floor and carrying her away. No, just as he had done the night before, he wrapped his fingers around her hair and pulled her to her feet. She cried out as she struggled to stand, but Ken ignored it. 

"Bedroom," he said, voice demanding as he let go of her. "Now."

She walked into their bedroom and stripped off her clothes, just as she was expected to do. When Ken came into the room he pushed her down and flipped her over, forcing her to lay on her back and face him. 

"You know I hate having to remind you of who you belong to, Barbie." The way he said her nickname, it was patronising. Like she really was just a toy for him to play with. 

As he undid his belt and freed himself from his jeans, she felt physically sick. He leaned over her, pushing in with no regard for her comfort or pleasure. 

Tears ran down her face, but she didn't sob. She couldn't look at him, and that only made him angry. "Let me see you, Barbie," he growled as his hands wrapped around her throat. 

Ken never squeezed. He never ever caused her harm like that. But today was different. Today his grip was tight as he held her neck, like he was trying to cut off her air supply. Like he wanted her dead. 

Suddenly she was gasping for air.

Desperately her hands clawed at his wrists, trying to get him to release her. "Ken!" She tried to gasp, but he sped up his thrusts. "Ken! I-" 

His grunt grew louder and he moved faster, his hips snapping until finally, he finished, climaxing inside of her. He released her neck and tucked himself back into his jeans, leaving her there, gasping for breath. 

On shaking legs, she crawled to the bathroom and reached into the cabinet for her birth control. As soon as she had swallowed it, she climbed into the shower, where she let herself cry. 

***

"Baby On Board!" Jake shouted the moment Bob walked back into Natasha's condo. "We were just about to send the police out looking for you!" He shouted with a laugh.

He hadn't thought about how much his friends would have worried about his disappearance. His hands were in his pockets as he made his way out to the back porch, where Jake and Natasha already had a beer each. 

"Sorry," he said, accepting the bottle that Natasha passed him from the box beside her. "Got caught up with something."

"And you didn't even bring back the coffees." Natasha and Jake didn't mention that, when Bob hadn't come back for an hour or answered their texts, they had turned to the coffee machine. It wasn't as good as the cafe coffee they had been promised, but it would do. 

Natasha looked at him, eyebrows raised (although it wasn't the easiest thing to see beneath the lights strung up above them). "Is it a girl?" She asked. 

Bob blushed deep crimson, and that was answer enough. "Our Baby On Board has a girlfriend?" Jake called, tipping the top of the bottle towards him. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"She's not my girlfriend,” Bob mumbled as he sat between Jake and Natasha. 

Jake and Natasha looked at each other. "But you want her to be, right?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Bob took his first sip of beer. "I don't know," he said once he had swallowed the mouthful. "I mean, I've only just met her and she's got a boyfriend."

"So?" Jake replied and Natasha glared at him. 

"Tell us everything," she said to the Weapon Systems Officer. 

So, Bob told them everything. He told them about the day before in the cafe, where he had knocked over her drink and ruined her notebook. He told them how she had run to work when he tried to apologise. He told them about the replacement notebook and how she had invited him to sit with her. And he told them that he had walked her to her apartment. 

"She sounds great," said Jake as he finished his drink and reached for another. 

"Yeah, perfect," Natasha agreed. "Apart from the boyfriend."

"We're hating him for you," Jake continued. 

Bob shook his head. "We can't just hate him. What if he's a really nice guy?" He suggested.

A scoff left Jake's lips. "He's with Baby Bob's dream girl. That's bad enough for me," he said, reaching past Bob to fist bump Natasha, who nodded in agreement.

Bob held his hands up in defence. "All I'm saying is, if she's with him, he must be great." He sipped his drink. "Besides, I think she's just looking for a friend."

"Are you okay just being that friend?" Natasha asked, her tone comforting. 

Bob nodded his head. "Yeah, I am."

After the one beer Bob said his goodbyes. He climbed into his truck and set off to his own place. Just like he had said to Nat and Jake, he was okay with just being her friend. Even if he couldn't get their interactions out of his head. Even when he pulled into his driveway he was thinking about her. Thinking about the way she laughed at him, a laugh that lit up the room. The way her eyes seemed to shine when she told a story from her childhood. The way her emotions seemed to get the better of her when she briefly mentioned her story. 

He thought about her apartment. It wasn't the nicest San Diego had to offer , definitely run down and cheap. From the little he had seen of the inside, the stairs would never pass any kind of inspection. 

"Frodo!" He called when he opened the door to his two bedroom house. 

Once Bob had completed his second stint at Top gun and had permanently relocated to San Diego, his mother had been so worried about him getting lonely. So, to ease her worries, Bob got a cat. Frodo had the life of luxury, more toys than he would ever play with and the best food Bob could get. 

He found Frodo asleep on his bed, his black hairs covering the comforter. Not that Bob minded too much; it was Frodo's home as much as it was his. 

She hadn't told him her name, Bob thought as he filled Frodo's bowl (as soon as Frodo heard the cupboard containing his food open, he went running). She hadn't told him her name as he was smitten. 

He just had to hope she was at the café again tomorrow.

Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess @darksparklesficrecs @primroseluna @littlemsbumblebee @wretchedmo

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader smut #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun bob #top gun maverick

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Vee's Studies!

(scroll to the end for timelapse :3)

I'm like, kind of obsessed with them lmao. While I've drawn Vox quite a lot (I've been working on a Vox animation thing over the last month-ish) I hadn't done much of anything when it came to Val and Vel. I knew I'd want to do something with them all later on, but I wanted to get a good understanding of their designs, shape language, and the differences between the three of them so I can play a lot more when it comes to doing them (heh) in my own style.

So, since I was most familiar (and most obsessed with out of the three lol), I started with Vox :3

While I've been working on the animation project, it had kind of been an 'adjust-as-I-go'/'let's-bullshit-this' process, rather than doing the work of understanding why certain things looked more correct than others, so I still learned a LOT from this one study. (Plus the scene makes me wheeze and I happily took the excuse to use that moment as his study reference haha)

Obviously Val is... an asshole, to really undersell it. But this is hell, his character is interesting and his design is immaculate. I think I had the most fun with studying him tbh. Without his santa wings-coat he- *coughs* - yeah. Uh. Good design. I can actually believe that Angel fell for him at one point. Manipulative bastard - sorry tangents. ANYWAY! XD

VERY fun to draw, and a very good balance within these designs of showing off character attributes but also not taking themselves too seriously (The HATS these boys wear! *wheeze* did Velvette just give up fighting them on it? I've gotta know haha)

I missed color too much by this point to make them all match perfectly, and frankly - trying to draw canon Velvette without hue differentiation is AWFUL she has so many details and overlapping elements. If I ever have to draw Vel from 1x03 again I might cry.

Something about her 1x03 look actually makes me feel viseral irritation just by seeing it (like, even b4 I made myself draw it), but then I see her in 1x08 and I wanna draw her forever???? She's so fucking cool? So fucking cute????? The duality of man ig lmao

Anyway, the TLDR is that actually being conscious of how things are represented when drawing a character can lead to surprisingly immense insight... I feel like I not only understand so much more about how to represent their characters, but also a much firmer grasp about how the shape language in the show works.

These designs are immaculate and I had so much fun. I actually have a lot more I could say about this, but my period came today and I'm tired and this post is already massive so I'll leave things here for now! But yeah! Hopefully more Vee's in the future bc I love them!

Wishing you all well! <3

#my art #digital art #fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hellaverse fanart #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel #velvette hazbin hotel #vox fanart #valentino fanart #val fanart #velvette fanart #character studies #vees fanart #the vees #the vees hazbin hotel

[hysel-e]

Year 1: Spring | Orter Mádl x Reader

Orter's eyes narrowed as soon as you appeared before him in the hallway of the Police Academy.

"I can see that you're ecstatic to see me. I'm delighted to see you too," you greeted him with unmatched enthusiasm.

The only response he could provide was a sigh of vexation.

Beside him stood Alex Elliot, known for his strong sense of justice and someone you had grown quite close to.

"Y/N, how do you always manage to appear around the hall at just the right time with lunch for Orter?" Alex questioned.

"If you weren't aware, teleportation magic exists."

"But that's an advanced spell... and you're a first-year."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Let me offer you some words of wisdom, Alex." You pointed a finger at his face, "For the pursuit of love, no spell is too complex."

"Did you learn that spell just to pop over to the Police Academy every day?"

"Of course. How else would I be able to travel wherever I need to? I'll have you know that I'm currently in the process of learning a healing spell as well in the event he gets injured. Look at how caring and thoughtful I am," you said, swelled with a sense of pride.

"That aside... did you also prepare lunch for me this time?" Alex asked eagerly, his mouth already watering at the thought of your cooking.

You feigned a thoughtful look. "Hmm, let's see... is your name Orter Mádl?"

"That's playing favorites!" he protested.

"I'm kidding. Here's your share as well. Knowing your appetite, I made sure to make your portion bigger," you said, handing him a generously filled lunchbox.

"If it weren't clear as day to everyone that you were pursuing Orter, I would definitely ask for your hand in marriage," he declared, half-joking.

"See how he's much more honest than you, Orter? You should take notes," you said, turning to Orter with a smug smile.

"Taking notes would suggest a level of interest that doesn't exist," he retorted, adjusting his glasses.

"Well then, let's not keep the food waiting," you said, unfazed by his blunt comment.

The three of you made your way to the cafeteria and sat at an empty table.

"Mmmmmm! Good eats!!" Alex exclaimed as he began devouring the lunch you made.

"I'm glad at least one person appreciates my cooking," you said, glancing at Orter. "A word of acknowledgement would be nice."

"The meal is edible," he responded impassively.

"Is that what you would considered praise? You could stand to improve."

He took a deep breath before replying. "It's more than merely edible - it's acceptable."

"I knew it was delicious! After all, I made it," you beamed, choosing to take his words as a compliment.

How you always managed to misconstrue his words, he would never know.

"I'll let you in on a little secret since I like you so much. There's a secret ingredient in there that makes the food so delicious."

"Curious to know what it is? I don't mind telling you~" you teased, leaning in closer.

"I don't care," he replied flatly, his gaze fixed on his meal.

"The secret ingredient is love!"

"Stop disrupting my lunch," he said, his patience wearing thin.

His words fell on deaf ears as you ignored him and continued, "They say that love is the hardest ingredient of all to add, so now you know how much effort I put into making these delicious lunches for you everyday."

"Your efforts were unsolicited."

"But you still enjoy them, right? Then that's all that matters."

"Where did you get the impression that I find them enjoyable? My only concern is that they're nourishing and edible."

"If you date me, I'll cook nourishing and edible meals like this for you everyday~"

"Consider that fantasy dispelled. Such a thing won't occur in this lifetime."

Your smile widened. "So there's a chance in another life? If that's the case, then I'll traverse the realm to find you again."

The furrow in Orter's brow deepened, and he closed his eyes with a sigh before continuing, "Allow me to rephrase since it appears you don’t understand. There is no chance of it happening."

But your grin remained, as bright as ever. "Well, I'm an optimist at heart, so I have hope."

True to routine, the back-and-forth between you two continued on until the lunch break was nearing its end.

"Thanks for the grub today," Alex said.

"No problem. I'm considering trying out some new recipes. Maybe I'll slip a few Cupid gummies into Orter's lunchbox next time," you mused.

If Orter weren't an emotionless machine, you'd figure you would see a vein appearing on his face right now.

"Penal code, Article 33290 - Tampering with another's food, carries a fine of 10,000 lond or a maximum sentence of 15 years!" Alex recited with a hint of mock severity.

"Wait, wait, wait! It was only a joke, I swear!" you quickly said, raising both hands in defense. "I can't afford the fine or imprisonment! How will I prepare your meals everyday if I'm stuck behind bars?"

"As courtesy for today, I'll overlook it just this once," Alex replied, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Perhaps I'll sneak chocolate cavities or a fight candy in yours," you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

The bell's chime echoed through the halls, signaling the end of the lunch break.

As you prepared to return to the main building of Easton Academy, there was one last thing you needed to do.

"Before I leave, I have something special for you," you announced, turning towards Orter.

Orter braced himself, for experience had taught him to expect nothing good from you.

Rummaging through your robes, you appeared to struggle to find what you were looking for.

Finally, with a triumph smile, you pulled out...

A finger heart.

"See ya!" With a wave, you disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Watching you vanish, Alex turned to Orter with a raised eyebrow. "Orter, did you cast some kind of charm spell? Y/N is quite taken with you."

He didn't know how to cast one, nor did he recall ever doing so, but now he was starting to wonder.

And so began the series of exchanges that would gradually kindle Orter's affection for a certain mage.

.

.

.

Alone in his dorm room after school, Orter couldn't help but replay the scene of you making the finger heart. Despite his attempts to dismiss it, the image stubbornly stuck in his head. He begrudgingly acknowledged the cuteness of the gesture, though he'd never confess it aloud - it would be as likely as hell freezing over.

#mashle #mashle orter #mashle orter x reader #mádl orter x reader #orter madl #orter madl x reader #orter madl x y/n #orter madl x you #orter mádl #orter mádl x reader #mashle orter x you #orter mádl x y/n

[specialinterestshows]

Learn about Dominik Mysterio’s sleeping habits and more in the latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Sleepwalking, somnophilia, hickies, cannabis mention

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 70 of ?): Demons In Her Dreams

Something made you startle awake. You weren’t sure what, or when you had fallen asleep, but one thing was undeniable, even in the darkness: Dom had somehow migrated away from Rhea when the three of you had been cuddling and was currently latched onto your arm like a koala.

On your other side, your girlfriend had one hand resting on your hair and the other arm swung loosely over your midsection.

Then, you heard what must have woken you up in the first place: Rhea mumbling in her sleep.

It was incoherent at first, muttered against the pillow. Then, she shifted her head suddenly and her fingers twitched, grabbing at the empty air.

“Leave ‘er ‘lone,” she huffed, shifting onto her other side with a heavy slump.

Then silence.

Just when you were starting to drift off to sleep again, Rhea yelled out your name and sprang up to a sitting position. You tried to sit up as well, to soothe her, but you were tethered to the bed as Dom kept holding onto you tightly.

“Rhe, I’m right here, it’s okay!” you tried to reassure her.

“Where did they go?” she asked, putting an arm in front of you to block an invisible foe, “I’m going to get them. I’ll get all of them if it means keeping you safe.”

“It was a nightmare, babe,” you told her gently, putting your free hand on her tense defending arm.

The realization seemed to hit Rhea gradually as she slowly relaxed her muscles.

“So you’re okay?” she checked, sounding less disoriented.

“I’m okay! We’re all safe; it’s just you, me, and Dom here. I would turn on the light and show you, but he doesn’t seem to want to part with my arm.”

The mattress shifted and a second later, Rhea was turning on her nightstand light with a click. Despite the raised voices and sudden light, Dominik was still fast asleep.

“Awww,” she cooed, stress dissipating from her face as she looked down at the two of you, “Yeah, he’s my sweet little koala when he gets tired.”

“Does he always sleep so heavily?” you asked, trying to slowly pull your arm from his grasp with more and more effort - and no results.

“Usually, no,” Rhea explained, “But after a show, a chase sequence, getting stoned, and having a threeway…”

You give an understanding nod, but your arm was asleep at this point and your girlfriend noticed your discomfort.

“I might have a way to get him to let go of you,” she began, standing up, “But I can’t promise he won’t start grabbing some other parts of you instead.”

“I just want my circulation back,” you groan, watching her move over to where Dom was.

Stretching and cracking her knuckles, Rhea looked as though she was preparing to do hard manual labor. Cozying up behind Dom, a mischievous look on her face, Rhea moved his shoulder and head to expose his neck. Then she bit down hard, keeping a hold on his hair as he started moaning - softly at first, until she started sucking on his skin and growling.

“Mami?” Dom whimpered, slowly releasing you to reach for her instead.

You winced as your arm felt the blood return like far too many pinpricks, the pain passing over you.

“How did you wander away from me, hm?” Rhea pulled away to ask Dom, “You were my cute little koala on the other side of the bed when I fell asleep.”

“Dunno,” he mumbled, touching a hand to his new hickey, “Sorry, Mami.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to,” she said, nodding her head in your direction. You were currently trying to speed up the process of your arm waking up by curling your fingers into a fist and letting go, over and over.

“‘M sorry,” he said to you, rubbing his eyes, “Are you both awake ‘cause of me?”

“No, love, don’t worry,” Rhea muttered, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Just relax - Mami’s here.”

It worried you that she hadn’t mentioned whatever nightmare she had woken up from, but rather than saying anything, you watched Rhea pick up Dom as if he didn’t weigh a thing and set him down on the other side of the bed again. She tucked him in, sat between the two of you, and stroked his hair until he fell back asleep.

“There,” Rhea whispered with finality, turning to look at you. Then, seeing the worry on your face, she asked, “What is it, gorgeous?”

“You woke up from a nightmare,” you said gently, watching her expression change, “It sounded like a lot. Do you want to talk about it?”

When she hesitated, you put your hand between the two of you, palm facing up. Giving you a small smile, Rhea took it and sighed.

“People were running after us. Trying to hurt you. Every time I looked back there were more of them and they kept getting faster,” she didn’t look at you as she spoke, but you could tell recalling the nightmare still scared her.

“You’re safe,” you told her, giving her hand a squeeze before pulling her into a hug, “I’m safe. No one is coming after us.”

Rhea hugged back tighter and you made a mental note to offer her a joint if and when she let go.

[end part seventy of ?]

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister

#wwe fanfiction #rhea ripley #the judgment day #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #lady!reader #weed #the judgement day #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

[theemporium]

[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.

series masterlist

.

RING! RING!

The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room. 

RING! RING!

The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites. 

RING! RING!

And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.

RING! RING!

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop. 

Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”

“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”

You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?” 

“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”

“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.” 

You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?” 

“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”

Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you. 

“WHAT?”

“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.” 

Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!” 

“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”

“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you. 

“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”

“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”

“What?”

“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat. 

“Yes, we established that when I called you—”

“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.

“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!” 

Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next. 

So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed. 

“OW!” 

You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call. 

“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?” 

“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”

“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented. 

Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”

You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?” 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

...

...

“How did this happen?” 

“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere. 

Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.

“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could. 

“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you. 

“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.

“You made the bet!” 

Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”

“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”

“We bumped into each other,” Max chided. 

“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.

Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?” 

“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.” 

He blinked. “Huh.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.

Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.” 

You shrugged. “I stand by it.”

Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”

“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice. 

“Well, Arthur knows,” you started. 

“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”

“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.” 

Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?” 

“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.

“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”

“He wouldn’t!”

Max shot you a look.

“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

...

...

“Okay, I have good news and bad news.” 

Max looked at you expectantly. “And?” 

“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!” 

Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.” 

“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom. 

“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”

Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.

“Now that was unnecessary.” 

You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”

“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.” 

“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”

The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”

You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment. 

“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.

“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”

“I—” You frowned. “You remember?” 

“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.” 

Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!” 

“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.” 

...

...

“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.” 

“Shut up and let us in.” 

You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before. 

You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face. 

“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.

“It buys us time,” you insisted. 

“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added. 

“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?” 

“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. 

“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max. 

“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.

Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”

“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—” 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.

“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.” 

Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.” 

“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”

“He knows we are in here,” he hissed. 

“We don’t know that for sure.” 

“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—” 

“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.

Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead. 

“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?” 

Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!” 

“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued. 

It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too. 

“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”

“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.

Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”

“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”

“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned. 

It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.

“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman. 

“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”

“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.” 

“I am going to—” 

“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”

“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”

“Shut up, Logan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”

“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.” 

“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.

“I know.”

“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”

“That’s a tad dramatic.” 

“And no consummating the marriage.”

“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”

“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.

Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.” 

You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”

“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented. 

Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.” 

Charles snorted. 

“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”

“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned. 

“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”

“Please don’t,” Max grumbled. 

“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”

Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice. 

“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.” 

Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”

“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”

...

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others

yourusername call me mrs verstappen

view all 12,892 comments

oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge

yourusername yes

user WHAT

user it was real?????

user oh my god IT WAS MAX?

user someone sedate me

user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????

user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out

arthur_leclerc badly

maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you

yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)

maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife

yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it

user i just know charles lost years of his life over this

landonorris uh photo creds?

yourusername no

landonorris rude

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen

yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise

charles_leclerc please stop reminding me

pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc MAMAN?????

maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?

pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco

maxverstappen1 yes ma'am

charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????

.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstapppen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[frankencanon]

I'm still reeling from Good Omens 2 — and I'm not talking about the cliffhanger.

No, I'm talking about the plot.

The whole "Something Terrible is Going to Happen" thing with a Naked Amnesiac Gabriel in the beginning made it seem like this season was going to go the same route as season 1 did — Armageddon, take 2.

And then when the season ended I was just so distracted by the kiss and the cliffhanger that it never really processed for me that this entire season was...

Well.

Whereas season 1 was all about stopping the Apocalypse, season 2 was entirely centered around romance, and only romance.

From what I can recall, there were three main storylines driving the plot in season 2:

Maggie and Nina's love story.

Gabriel and Beelzebub's love story.

Crowley and Aziraphale's love story.

Even if it didn't seem that way at first, it was revealed in the end that everything that had occurred had to do with someone's love story.

Naked amnesiac Gabriel showing up at the bookstore? That only happened because he fell in love with Beelzebub and got himself fired, then chose to run away before they could steal his memories of falling in love with them.

This whole season was about trying to find out what happened to Gabriel (love, love is what happened), trying to get Nina to fall in love with Maggie, and Crowley coming to terms with the fact that he is in love with Aziraphale, and then eventually working up the courage to act on that love.

And that's not even mentioning the minisodes — which were basically telling us the story of how Crowley and Aziraphale fell in love!

This entire season was centered around romance, and only romance!

The second season of Good Omens was literally a love story. I can't believe it — can you?!

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU so much, Mr. Neil Gaiman!

Never before would I have guessed that season 2 would end up like this... I know we're all sad about how things left off with Crowley and Aziraphale, but there's not nearly enough appreciation going around for how we were even able to get to that point in the first place!

Everyone say,

"THANK YOU, NEIL GAIMAN!"

And let's not forget David Tennant (Crowley) and Michael Sheen (Aziraphale) who played these hopelessly in love idiots so well!

#I don't think I'll ever be over this #good omens #good omens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens s2 #go2 #go2 spoilers #gos2 #gos2 spoilers #gomens #gomens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #spoilers #me: *trying to think of more ways to tag for spoilers just in case* 🤔😖🧐 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens series 2

[moon-rivr]

woven in cartier

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: one bed (i love that trope sry not sry), miguel teaches reader spanish 🥸, fingering (yes again), nipple play, and oral (f receiving)

author’s note: sugar daddy miguel just has a special place in my heart as a broke college student 😫

word count: 5k

million dollar man (part one)

Miguel had gotten the flights for Cabo late since he figured you two could just start sightseeing in the morning. Despite the fact that you assured him arriving an hour beforehand was good enough to get the whole check-in process done, he still insisted on arriving three hours early to the airport. You held back from teasing him when he complained about the two hours that the two of you had to wait for loading, though you couldn't help the self-satisfied smile that came across your face. "Ay okay, I get it. I'll shorten the time to an hour and a half next time," he told you, poking your cheek after noticing your expression.

"Do you mind putting my suitcase up there?" You asked him, taking advantage of how easy it would be for him to just extend his hands and reach the overhead bin. "Yeah, just go ahead and take a seat," he responded, taking your carry-on and setting it up there with his own. You buckled yourself in the seat, the amount of space in the first class area allowing for you to recline back as much as you wanted.

You would've never been able to picture a couple months ago that the first time you'd be flying would be in first class, or that you'd even be going out to a vacation at all. You couldn't help but think back on all the worry you'd had when you first joined the website, the thought almost amusing now that you're here with Miguel.

"Hey, you okay?" Miguel's voice seemed like the calm in the storm, his voice serving as something that grounded you. "It's just my first time flying, I'll get over it," you assured him, your leg bouncing up and down at the anticipation of when it would take off. miguel reached over, his hand clasping over yours as his thumb ran small circles over your fingers.

"You'll be fine, don't worry. I've got you, mi cielo. Let me know if you need to pop your ears or anything, I got some gum back at the gift shop," he whispered, his voice just soothing enough to calm you down. You nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths as the plane started to move down the runaway.

You tapped on his shoulder after a couple minutes of being up in the air, asking him for the piece of gum now. He took the pack out of his pocket, handing it over to you. You grabbed one of the pieces, unraveling the gum out from the plastic packaging and stuck it in your mouth in hopes that it would ease with the change in altitude.

You handed the pack of gum back to him, his attention on you just to make sure that the sensation wasn't too bad. After a couple minutes of chewing, the pressure in your ears began to build up before eventually releasing in a 'pop.' You were able to relax with much more ease, your head resting against Miguel's until you eventually fell asleep.

"Hey, wake up. You slept for most of the ride," you heard in the distance, your eyes opening up to see that the plane was slowly beginning its descent into the airport. "Thanks for letting me sleep on your shoulder, I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for you," you told him, rubbing your eyes as you tried to get rid of the tired feeling coursing throughout your body.

"You don't need to thank me, I'd give you everything that your little heart desired and more if you asked," he told you, unbuckling his seatbelt once the light above the two of you turned on. "The time's 11:39 PM and we just landed in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Please stay seated until the plane has come to an immediate stop," you heard above you, the pilot's voice coming through the small speaker.

"Swear I told them to give us two beds," Miguel spoke up after coming inside the hotel room to only notice one king sized bed in the middle of the bed. The two of you had touched on some lines of intimacy, but it'd never went as far to where the two of you shared a bed together. "I don't mind if you don't mind. Plus I'm guessing that all the rooms are full," you assured him, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room.

"You sure? I don't wanna push you into anything you're not ready for," he told you, setting his suitcase down next to yours. "I don't mind like I said, plus you'll be like my own body heater," you teased, taking your pajamas out of your suitcase and heading into the bathroom to change.

Despite the fact that he'd fingered you inside of a dressing room and almost made you cum, changing in front of him and sharing a bed almost seemed like something too intimate for the situation the two of you were in. But, you couldn't imagine yourself wanting to do these things with anyone else after experiencing what Miguel is like.

You came back to see that Miguel had changed into a pair of grey sweats, his upper body completely exposed to your ogling eyes. You saw a pendant hanging around his neck, a image of the little girl you'd seen around his house inside. His upper body was hairy in a way that didn't make him seem unkempt, but rather made him even more attractive if that was even possible.

You laid down next to him, the feeling of the sheets underneath you cooling down the warmth that lit up inside you just by being in such close contact with Miguel. "You don't have to sleep by the edge, ven pa' acá," he spoke gently, his arms inviting you to sleep closer to him when you turned to face him. (come over here) You scooted over next to him, his hands wrapping closely around you as he kissed your forehead.

"You sure this is okay? I can sleep on that sofa if you want me to," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours as he waited for your response. Your eyes drifted over to the sofa on the corner of the room, the size of it looking like it would barely fit you comfortably. "You'd probably fall and break your hip, old man. I like having you next to me anyways," you told him, your head nestled against his chest.

"Buenos dias. We're going out to a dolphin boat ride later just so you know," Miguel greeted you as you opened your eyes, the smell of pancakes overtaking your nostrils. You sat up on the bed, noticing that Miguel had brought you breakfast and set it down on the nightstand next to you. A combination of eggs and pancakes along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. You figured you might as well indulge in it while it was still warm before getting in the shower to get ready.

"Thanks," you spoke up, letting out a yawn before getting up from the bed. You sat down on the sofa with your plate of food, savoring the taste of the pancakes with every bite that you took. You'd never get accustomed to the feeling of living luxuriously, no matter if it was something as minuscule as just eating pancakes. Miguel laid down on the bed and scrolled through the tv, wearing a white t-shirt along with the grey sweats from last night. You weren't sure of why, but just the thought that he woke up and immediately got dressed just to get you breakfast caused butterflies to take flight in your stomach.

You heard the bathroom door close behind you but you didn't think too much about it, Miguel's hands finding your waist once you finished getting undressed. "Do you mind if I join you in the shower? It'll be less of a water waste, y'know," he asked you, his hands forming small circles on your waist.

You were already pretty certain you did want him in there, but the way that his touch electrified your skin with every caress turned that into a definite yes. "I mean since you're offering to save the planet, what kind of monster would I be if I said no," you told him with a teasing tone in your voice, opening the curtain to get in. He followed suit behind you, letting out a small chuckle at your words.

"Look at us being quite the environmentalists," he retorted, the cool water hitting both of you when you turned on the faucet. The water pressure was much more different than what you were used to, even that was much better than the shitty shower head you had back at your place. You were surprised to find the soap that you used, turning around to look at Miguel with a raised brow.

"No era nada, I was just in the store and I was aware of the trip. Thought you might've liked to have your soap than the standard bar of soap," he brushed it off, dismissing it as if it weren't a big deal. (it wasn't anything) But for someone who hadn't had that kind of effort out into them, it was a gesture that you appreciated.

"Would spend every last penny in my bank account if it meant i got to see you like this everyday," he mumbled against your neck, his hands coming up to your breasts. You moved your head back to give him more access to your neck, his lips eager to take every inch that you were giving him.

His thumbs pinched your nipples as his lips hovered above your neck, his lips closing around your pulse point as he kissed it. You could feel yourself forming into putty just by the motion of his hands, the way that he was touching you was too enticing to not give in. His mouth moved down to your breasts, engulfing your left one as his hand played with your right one.

His movements were in sync, his tongue rolling around your nipple around the same time that his thumb and pointer pinched around the other one. Your hands went down to his wet hair, the strands at the ends taking their natural wavy form. Your fingers dug into his scalp, but he didn't seem to mind the sting given the moan he released around your nipple.

He pressed a kiss to your breast before exchanging places with his hand, his tongue swirling around your right areola with the same eagerness that he'd shown for the other one. "Don't stop, please," you whined, the pleasure that he was providing your nipples going down to your cunt.

"Get against the wall for me, mamita," he told you, pulling away from your breast with a 'pop.' You did as told, his hands spreading your ass apart once he'd kneeled down. His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of you from the attention he'd given to your nipples, running a stripe up from your hole to your clit. His tongue plunged inside of your vagina, eagerly lapping at the slick dripping down out of you.

His tongue came up to your clit, swirling around the nub before his mouth connected to it. He started to suck on your clit, his tongue occasionally moving around it while his finger went into you. Your slick coated his finger every time he pushed it in and out of you, the angle that he was curling it allowing stimulation to your g-spot.

"Oh fuck," you muttered underneath your breath, your body pressed up against the cold tiles while he kneeled behind you. His tongue felt like the most delicious form of torture, each swipe getting you closer and closer to cloud nine. The feeling of the cold water hitting your body as well as the warmth you felt igniting inside of you as he buried his head into your pussy was enough to make you delirious. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to that orgasm, your hips pushing back against miguel's face to meet his movements. "Miguel, you told me to alert you thirty minutes before the boat ride," you heard Lyla, Miguel's phone assistant chime in.

The moment was ruined the second that Lyla spoke up, Miguel's head removing itself from your cunt as he stood up. "Alright, thank you," he spoke loudly enough for the assistant to recognize, the alarm that he'd set up turning off. "Now I'm starting to feel like you're doing all this on purpose," you grumbled, getting off from the wall as you reluctantly reached for the bottle of body wash. "Maybe I am. It's so fun seeing you get all annoyed when your orgasm gets ripped away," he responded, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the glare you gave him. He lathered some soap onto your back, his large hands rubbing it in effectively.

You got dressed in a rush as the alarm on his phone kept beeping, alerting that the two of you would be dangerously close to missing the ride. You grabbed the Chanel bag that he'd bought beforehand, following Miguel out of the hotel. You could've sworn the ghost of a smile creeped up on his face when he saw you with the purse, the color coordinated with the outfit you'd chosen for today. The two of you managed to arrive at the dock before the boat had a chance to take off, the tour guide giving you both a dirty look as they let you guys in.

The boat took off shortly after the two of you sat down, the tour guide speaking through the megaphone about what you assumed were some of the landmarks in the area. After seeing your puzzled expression, Miguel took it upon himself to be your translator of sorts.

"He's just saying that they offer swimming with dolphins after the tour if you're interested in that," Miguel finished up, the boat slowing down as some dolphins came out into view. "Y'know, they're actually pretty cruel animals so I don't get the whole excitement," Miguel muttered in your ear, his hands wrapped around your waist as he stood behind you while you pointed the dolphins out. "You're the one who paid for this so don't blame me for getting excited."

"¿Quieren una foto juntos?" you heard from behind you, a woman looking at the two of you with a smile. (you guys want a picture?) "Si no es mucho problema," Miguel told the woman, passing her the cellphone with the camera app already set up. (if it's not too much of a problem) Miguel kneeled down a bit to be at your level, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he smiled.

As corny as it was, a dolphin managed to jump up at the same time that the woman clicked on the camera. "Muchas gracias," Miguel thanked the woman after she was done, the woman shrugging it off with a smile. "No era problema. Ustedes me hacen acordar de mi marido y yo." (it wasn't a problem. you guys remind me of my husband and me)

The rest of the boat ride was pretty peaceful, the currents proving to be pretty weak at this time of the day. You went with Miguel down to the bar when the boat turned around to head back to the dock, sitting down on the stool next to him. "Hola, ¿Qué tal? Me puede dar uno de tequila porfa," Miguel ordered, the bartender nodding and getting to work immediately. (hey, how's it going? can i get one of tequila please)

"What do you want to drink?" Miguel asked, turning to look at you as you glanced through the menu board. "I'll just get a virgin cosmo," you responded, looking up from the drink board over to him. You couldn't help but feel a bit of at a disadvantage hearing Miguel speak so fluently with the people around him while you were left to try to piece the words together.

"You mind if I ask why you chose Cabo out of all the vacation spots? Just curious why you chose this one," you inquired, taking a sip from your cocktail before shifting your attention up to him. He stayed quiet, his gaze going from you to the boat windows before he took a swig of his drink.

"I chose Cabo because it was my daughter's favorite place to come to. Before she passed away, I took her to different vacation destinations such as Greece and Italy but she took a liking to this place. Despite it being a tourist spot, I'm guessing it's because it helped her connect to her roots more," he responded after a couple seconds, his gaze coming back over to you after he was finished speaking.

"I know I haven't really spoken to you about her all that much, partly because it just hurts so much to think about her in the past tense. Like as a memory rather than a person. But you're a special part of my life now, and I thought you would've liked to know more about her," he added, his hands playing with the rim of his glass.

You reached over, holding his hands in between your own. "I'd like to know as much as you feel comfortable sharing. Take things at your own pace, there's no time limit for how long you grieve her," You hoped your words were reassuring enough, since you didn't have any experience when it came to dealing with loss at that level.

"I appreciate the fact that you're willing to even listen. I know that you didn't exactly agree to be hearing about this kind of trauma when you signed up for that website," he seemed almost guilty in the way that he spoke, like he regretted sharing the burden with you.

"It may not be what I signed up for, but it doesn't mean that I see you any differently. If anything, I just see you as more resilient. Please don't ever hesitate in talking to me about what you're feeling," you assured him, bringing his hand up to your mouth and pressing a kiss. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, giving you one of his rare smiles before going back to drinking his tequila.

The two of you went back out to the boat deck as the trip was coming to an end, enjoying the feeling of the light breeze against your skin. His hand was resting on your thigh throughout the duration, his touch only adding to the feeling of relaxation that you felt.

The boat stopped by the dock, Miguel allowing for the rest of the guests to get out before he helped you up. He held your hand and guided you back to the hotel, his pace matching yours so as to not rush you. "You wanna out to the hotel jacuzzi? You were really excited to put on that new bathing suit you bought," he asked you, referring to the new Louis Vuitton one you'd bought a couple months back.

"Yeah, we can do that. I might need you to help me pick one out since I bought a new one from Victoria Secret the last time we went," you responded, following him inside the elevator once it opened. "Surprised you managed to get any shopping done during that last trip," he mumbled underneath his breath, pressing the button for the fourth floor.

You felt a bit flustered as he brought that back up, since the two of you just kept brushing over the sexual tension like it wasn't anything too serious. "Surprised you came up with that lie so fast," you tried to tease him back, but your words didn't have the same effect that his did. He let out a small laugh, following you out of the elevator as the two of you headed to them room.

You placed the two sets in front of him, hoping that he’d give you a concrete answer to settle your dilemma. "Well, I think they'd both look good on you," he offered his bit of advice though it wasn't helpful to you while you were struggling. "That doesn't make the decision any easier. just help me pick one out," you practically whined, his expression remaining the same as he leaned against the headboard.

"Think I'll have to see you try them on just to make a good decision," he suggested, the smirk on his face doing nothing to hide the eagerness he felt towards that idea. You picked up the Louis one, changing in the bathroom before coming out to show him. You even went as far as doing a little twirl, receiving a whistle as a form of approval.

After doing the same with the Victoria Secret one, he seemed to be thinking about the decision harder than the last time you'd asked. "Go with the first one, you should save the one you're wearing right now for the beach tomorrow," he finally spoke, seeming to come to the conclusion that you'd made originally. You took off the set you were wearing now and changed into the Louis Vuitton one, coming back to see him changed into a pair of black swim trunks. He grabbed a towel and some flip flops for the both of you, locking the door once the two of you were outside.

You sat in between his legs, the warm jets hitting your skin to ease some of the tension that'd built up during your exams week. You leaned back against him, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to just bask in his company for the time being. His hand gently traced circles on your thigh, your legs opening to give him as much access as he needed.

"So needy for me, muñequita. I left you all high and dry in the shower earlier hm?" His voice dropped an octave as he whispered into your ear, his hand coming to your inner thigh. You could only nod as his hand pushed the material of your bikini to the side, your cunt exposed for him.

You muffled a moan when Miguel turned one of the jets on, the water pressure hitting your clit at the angle that you were sitting at. "Answer me or I won't touch you, chula. Are you that needy just to have my fingers inside you?" He asked, his fingers just barely hovering above your vagina.

"Yes! Please, I've been thinking it about it since the shower. Could barely focus on those damn dolphins!" You exclaimed, eliciting a chuckle from him in response. He inserted one of his fingers into you, the water pressure proving itself to be a bit difficult. He quickly adjusted to that, establishing a good rhythm as he pushed his finger in and out of you.

His hand pulled away from your cunt abruptly as the door to the jacuzzi room opened up, a couple around your age appearing. They seemed to have a disappointed look on their face upon seeing you and Miguel, like they were planning on doing the same thing you'd done with him prior. "Think we ruined their plans," Miguel murmured in your ear when they walked away, thinking the same thing you had.

"Serves them for ruining our plans," you responded, feeling his erection hit your back the more you leaned into him. Despite the fact that he had a very evident hard on at this point, he did nothing to act upon it. The two of you decided to head back into the hotel room after the water had cooled down, your frustration evident when you stepped into the shower to freshen up.

"Hey, would you mind teaching me Spanish?" You asked him after the two of you finished showering, mostly doing nothing except relaxing in bed. "Any specific reason why you want to learn?" He inquired, looking over at you expectantly. "It's just, I feel like if im here in Mexico, I should at least do the minimum and learn a bit of Spanish instead of expecting everyone to be accommodating," you explained, his expression softening up a bit as he sat next to you.

"Alright, we're gonna go over some basic phrases just so you can get around. Now, I do have to say that it does change from region to region. Like while something means kid in one area, it can mean a completely different thing in another one," he let you know before he started with the mini lesson.

"Okay, so when you're speaking to someone with authority or someone older than you, you want to use 'usted.' But if you're talking to someone casually, like you're doing to me, then you can use 'tú.' It's more about respect than anything else," he started off, waiting for you to finish typing it out in your notes app before he started to speak once more. He went on to talk about how mostly everything was gendered in the language, with a few exceptions. Truth be told, he was proving to be more patient at this tutoring thing than you would've imagined.

"'¿Donde esta el baño?' is how you ask where the bathroom is, 'damas' or 'mujeres' indicates that it's for women," he added, gesturing for you to repeat what he was telling you. You couldn't help but notice the difference between the two of you as you spoke, the accent making all the difference. despite the fact, Miguel still looked proud of you for making the effort. "I know rolling the r's can be kind of difficult but it does kinda change what the topic you're talking about. Like with perra, you have to roll them otherwise it just sounds like you're asking for a fruit," he continued on, your notes app quickly filling up with the notes he was giving you.

"You're doing better than most tourists, don't worry. At least you're taking the initiative in trying to learn," he assured you, rubbing small circles on your back as you laid on your stomach. "You sure?" You were unsure of how well you were doing, since no matter how hard you'd tried in the past hour, you couldn't get the words to sound the same way that he made them sound. Though you knew that he had more experience with the language growing up, a part of you also felt a bit defeated from not being able to master the simple sentences that he'd given you earlier.

"You're not gonna learn it today, it's gonna take time. I'm willing to keep teaching you if that's something you want," he offered, like he wasn't already buried under enough responsibilities as it was at work. "I'll always make time for you, cielito lindo. Tu me importas mas que esos viejos arrugados del trabajo," he told you after you expressed your concern with how busy he was. (you matter more to me than those wrinkly old men from work) The two of you stayed quiet for a couple minutes, his hand gently running circles on your back. "Do you mind standing up for me? I have somewhat of a surprise for you," his request came out of the blue, but you obliged and got up from the bed.

"Stay still and close your eyes for me, muñeca," he told you, your eyes shutting once he was finished speaking. You were relying on your hearing to discern what he was doing, listening to the way that the bed creaked as he got up and the sound of the drawers opening.

You felt his body warmth behind you before he even touched you, your body being able to discern him in any environment you were in. "Alright, don't flinch. Got a snake in my hands," he muttered, his words eliciting a feeling of fear inside of you. You felt a cold metal against your chest, a small shiver running down your spine at the contact. "Alright, you can open your eyes now," he told you, stepping back to gauge for your reaction.

You were half-expecting him to be serious about the snake but when you looked down, you saw a gold necklace on you, his name adorning your neck. "I got the idea after seeing you with the nail. I wanted to get it in mexico since I wasn't too sure about the gold quality back in the states. I hope it's not too much," he told you, your hand coming up to touch the necklace like you wanted to make sure that it was real.

You turned around and faced him, a smile on your face as you hugged him. He still wasn't too good at receiving these sudden embraces, but he was getting better at being able to reciprocate them. His arms came down to your waist, holding you close to his body for a couple seconds. “I love it, thank you."

The words that you wanted to tell him were that you were starting to fall in love with him, but you decided to restrain yourself from admitting it. Swallowing them down felt like swallowing a bunch of dirt, the admission almost threatening to burst out of you with every day that passed by. You knew that you liked to spend time with him, but you never imagined that it would escalate to love.

The last thing that you needed to hear was that every gesture that he'd done was solely out of providing with his responsibility as a sugar daddy, that he only saw this as what it originally was. A transaction. How funny that you'd thought you'd be the one taking advantage of their feelings, without the consideration that you might be the one to catch feelings too.

You knew that Miguel had a tendency to destruct relationships whenever he felt like he was getting too close to a person, that he had enough on his shoulders without having to worry about his actions might inconvenience someone else. So you decided to simply settle for just being his sugar baby, despite how much you longed for his company in even the most mundane tasks.

The truth was a hard pill to swallow, knowing that you couldn't do anything about the love that was developing towards him despite the fact that every bone in your body was telling you to fuck the consequences and just admit it. But, you preferred to be in his life repressing these feelings than running the risk of just not being in his life at all.

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #smut #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman smut #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel fic #miguel imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv

[fillinforlater]

Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection). 

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around. 

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well. 

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out. 

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity. 

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is. 

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen? 

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #ive smut #male reader smut #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive gaeul smut

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON NOT SHYING TO SHOW YOU OFF.

cw: fluff, comfort, nsfw, smut, established relationship, brief mentions of simons past, possesive behavior, mentions of another task force characters, kisses, pet names, public sex, passionate sex, unprotected p in v, marking, creampie pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

you and simon have been in a relationship for a relatively long time so that the man behind the balaclava of the skull and the nickname of the ghost, a man whose hands are stained with blood up to the elbows and dark circles have sunk under the dark pools of his eyes has become more than his dark image, his past, blossoming with your help.

his soul was no longer tormented by memories flashing like annoying flies and sleepless nights, cursed by the three cursed obscenity under his breath when he looked at the white shabby ceiling, now he fell asleep under the softness of your body near his chest, watching your chest heave and eyelashes flutter, soft sighs slide from your lips, now he was no longer tormented by memories, now he no longer was faced by faceless corpses.

if he could put all his gratitude into his words, he would not be silent for a minute, but instead of words, his eyes and actions spoke, warm brown ones always secretly accompanied you and stuck to your back until the moment you disappeared from his field of vision, calloused hands carefully held yours or lay with a landing weight on the very bottom of your back, he accompanied you, drove you, saw you off, and perhaps very rarely expressed his affection verbally, but when a languid baritone sounded like lightning through the sky in three words over your ear — «i love you», you knew that he was attached to you.

therefore, simon was not afraid to show you as his most precious treasure to everyone around him, he was not afraid to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers almost in a knot, he was not afraid to kiss you in public, raising his mask only to his nose and maybe covering the two of you with his palm, muffling your meek protests with a brief but deep kiss, licking your bottom lip hot and wet, searching for an entry, before pulling back and straightening himself out, narrowing his eyes in a smile at your embarrassment and slight frown in your brows.

from time to time you could catch him openly praising you, be it within the walls of your house, where he would stand in the aisle to the room or sit on the bed while you were changing clothes, endlessly repeating in a grump, but truly loving manner that — «you're so beautiful like that, fuck, my gorgeous love», or in public, sitting in a bar with his comrades from the task force, to whom he had no problem showing you off, trusting them like family, trusting them with you, almost all the time watching you sit and communicate with them, giggling, forcing him at a certain moment to squeeze your cheeks and lean over to kiss you, causing you to squeak in dismay, squeezing his shirt on his chest into fists while he released your lips with wet pop, noticing out of the corner of his eye how some of the boys were embarrassed by such a display of intimacy, but this didn't stop him from purring — «sorry, you just so lovely while giggling all like that, doll»

and he, as if unexpectedly, had no problem letting the others hear how lucky he was, taking you away from the table in the process, only humming at your giggling and slightly interested — «where are we going, simon? baby?? are we going home?» which he may have been rude, but ignored, and the rest of the task force either guessed or simply got away with it, but one way or another you find yourself in a narrow hallway on the way to the toilets, pressed against the wall in a darkened corner, when his lips press against yours with heat and wetness, licking into your mouth.

he only brought you two here because he couldn’t contain his arousal while looking at you, relaxed, cheerful, and yet incredibly beautiful — and he would have been glad to let you talk to his mates longer, but he simply couldn’t stop himself from pinning you against the wall, pulling his hands under your cute, loose dress that you wore especially for this meeting, and running his thick fingers along the edges of your panties and right along your clothed slit, pressing teasingly before starting to gradually lower them, making you let an impatient, albeit an embarrassed whine — «si.. there's people..»

simon just grunts as always, taking a moment to lower your slightly drenched panties, his touch gentle, always so, but yet impatient.

he then swiftly unzips his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers, throbbing, meaty length with dark red tip that leaks precum and gets him all wet and sticky as he pumps himself couple of times, guiding himself between your slightly parted legs, teasing your slick slit and lightly brushing against your clenched cunt, eliciting a moan from you, sweet, shyly and almost chocked from embarrassment sound.

pressing his broad chest against your back, he pins you against the cold wall of small hallway corner, his body heat radiating against your skin as anticipation hangs heavy in the air as he positions himself, ready to stuff himself full in your wet heat, resting his head on your frail shoulder and muttering in your ear, deeply, as if growling, holding all his pent up arousal so as not to overwhelm you and peppering the side of your face — «s'pretty, just.. gonna be real quick, lovie, couldn't help myself»

unable to refuse, you silently arch, ducking your head slightly under your arm that are braced on the wall, when simon nothing but growls appreciatively at the sight of your plush ass pressed against his pubic bone and arch of your spine, his desire intensifying.

thick, warm palm squeezes your butt with his free hand, relishing in the softness and warmth beneath his touch, albeit possessively, letting his fingers sink into the warm skin and leave scarlet imprints from the touch.

with a firm grip, he pulls your asscheek slightly, allowing him to guide his throbbing cock inside your cunt, your folds flutter around him as he eases inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the slight stretch.

he can feel his bulbous head leaking, the slickness making it easier for him to slide into you until he is fully buried inside your warm depths, bottoming out fully till he's balls deep, you squeeze and clench around him till your hole relaxes and he can move a tad bit, looking behind his shoulder just to see the dim lit bar hallway still missing of people, and it gives him more openness to action without the fear of you being uncomfortable.

and you don’t even feel it no more when simon starts with a few slow, testing thrusts, his hands resting on top of yours on the wall, he squeezes your hands gently, intertwining his fingers with yours, providing a comforting touch amidst the growing intensity and strokes your knuckles, his lips leaving quick kisses on your cheek and the sides of your face, distracting you from the increasing speed of his thrusts.

his hips roll and snap, driving his thick cock deeper with each movement, the strain of pleasure causes moans to escape your lips, muffled by the fear that someone going to hear you both, or he's friends that will try to find you, but still, unable to muffle them fully.

your eyes roll back in pleasure, losing yourself to the sensations coursing through your body, your cunt clenches around him, coating his thick cock in slickness, heightening the friction and pleasure for both of you as he thrust deeper, brushing against your spongy spots and finally finding the right place, hitting rapidly.

he knows this place inside you better than you yourself, thrusting his dick rapidly with just the right amount of force, the pleasure is overwhelming, causing your legs to tremble beneath you, knees buckling as if branches.

simon grunts right below your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, as he presses you further into the wall, his bulky form squishing against your body, creating an intimate shield, he can let people hear, but not look at how you melt against him and become a beautiful, fucking pretty mess, it's just for his eyes.

his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each powerful thrust, the sound echoing in the room, as his hands squeezes yours tightly, ensuring you have no way to muffle the throaty mewls that escape your lips, full of desperate mewls of his name and unintelligible babbling — «si! si-simon, yes, s-s' deep! hmnn!» the sounds of your pleasure reverberate, unabashedly reaching the ears of anyone passing by, leaving no doubt to the passionate encounter taking place between you in this small, narrow corner.

simon's ears perk up as he hears your desperate babbles, and it's only serves to fuel his desire, and he growls in response — «f-fuck.., what ya doing to me, doll» and increasing the pace of his thrusts.

he presses his face into your neck, kissing softly and moving against your skin with his teeth, scratching, alternating between gentle bites and leaving marks in the form of hickeys, let them bloom on your skin like pinkish purple flowers, the one's he's happy to pepper your flesh with.

his hips snap against your ass with greater force, his cock driving deeper in your slickness and hitting your g-spot with each powerful thrust, simon shows no signs of slowing down, his determination evident as he continues to ravish you from the inside, each vein on his shaft rub against your gummy walls, fucking your brains out.

your grumbles and throaty moans intensify, fueling his hunger even more, as well when you arch deeper, pressing yourself against his fast and desperate thrusts, seeking even greater pleasure, the sound of your voice and the way you respond to him cause his cock to throb, aching for release, leaking without stopping as his head plunge against your spongy spot, aching to fill you, as he relishes in your clenching and spasming.

as his cock continues to leak inside you, the slickness adding to the intensity of your pleasure, he relentlessly hits all the soft spots inside you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath, knocking it from your lungs, rhe burning sensation in his hips matches the sensation in your ass from his forceful snaps, heightening the pleasure for both of you.

as you feel the familiar, lava hot feeling in your lower stomach coiling tighter with each passing minute, simon senses that he's reaching his own limit as well, he buries his face in your shoulder, not letting himself kiss you, allowing you to sob against the wall from the overwhelming ecstasy, as your body shudders uncontrollably, pressing against him tighter as you struggle to find any relief from the impending climax that looms just here.

simon is completely lost in his own primal desires, fucking into you with relentless fervor, he shushes your babbled mewls, with lazy kisses on your chin, trying to provide some comfort amidst the overwhelming pleasure, as your words die on your heavy tongue and everything you let out is just — «close, i'm close, simon, hhmn, ah, yes!» as you press against his body, taking every harsh thrust with a mix of pleasure and pain.

your walls and folds spasm and clamp around his slick cock, signaling your impending climax, and then it hits you like a tidal wave.

your face lowers, your eyes rolling back until all you see is darkness, your body goes limp, shuddering uncontrollably as your cunt pulses and releases slick and cum, coating his shaft in your essence, letting it drip from your puffy lips and make a mess.

meanwhile, simon's tip curls and bumps against your g-spot more slowly and smoothly, prolonging his own pleasure, he throbs inside you, releasing warm, thick milky cum, painting your insides with his potent seed, filling you just as nice while panting in your ear and pepper you with soft kisses, finally releasing one of his hands to touch your chin, tipping it as you lift your head dazedly, letting him kiss your lips tenderly, murmuring gently — «thank you darling, did so good, such a good girl, just take it, yeah? t-take it» as he pump his cum in you.

he clearly ensures that his cum is thoroughly buried in your loose, wet hole before easing himself out with a quiet, slick noise, simon looks down at the white ring on the base of his shaft and the sticky mess that now coats your cunny, his eyes heavy lidded with satisfaction.

a deep, contented growl rumbles in his chest as he observes how his seed slightly seeps from your throbbing cunt, trailing along your thighs and dripping onto your panties, so he gathers some of the cum with his fingers, rubbing it against your sensitive folds, stuffing it back inside you, eliciting sobs from you as you remain too sensitive from the intense pleasure.

— «i know, love, i know, took it so good, just relax» he coos softly, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and dominance, as he fumbles with his pants and boxers, quickly hiding his now soft cock back inside his pants.

with a nonchalant disregard for the wet mess, he puts your panties back on you, not minding the mixture of his cum and your slickness that clings to the fabric, before spinning you around gently and picking you up in his arms, letting your limp legs wrap around his waist as he helped you, holding gently with one arm, while he adjusted the hem of your dress into place with other, hiding everything intimate from prying eyes, at lough not from everyone.

as soon as he turns and begins to carry you back towards the very inside of the bar, away from the dark corner, he bewitches around the corner and meets a well familiar scott, johnny, taking in a familiar dark mop of hair, arranged in mohawk, blue eyes that look with a certain taken aback when he immediately breaks through the silence in his usual barely intelligible speech — «eh, here you are, everyone was worried where you two been» but immediately shuts up when he takes in a situation better.

johnny is not stupid, he perfectly notices such details as the slight liddenes in brown eyes and your absolutely fatigued figure, which led you to bury yourself in simon's shoulder, almost sleepily, and he catches a glimpse of the bite marks and hickeys on your skin, simon's carelessly buttoned pants and your slightly wrinkled dress, causing his lips to break into a grin, and his eyes squint slyly, understandingly, and simon already feels where this will lead to.

but instead of further words, johnny pats him on his free shoulder, a little weaker than usual, out of sincere concern not to disturb you, before looking over his shoulder at the rest of the boys, to their table in a quieter corner, before looking back at simon, tilting his head, and pronouncing with slight humor, but no less valuable for this — «alright, i see, away with ye, take the bonnie home, i'll tell the boys that you two had to go, it was nice to see ya that happy around her»

simon's eyes flutter with clear respect, a fragile tenderness for a person who seems to be lending him a helping hand, albeit in such a small way, before he nods and they shake hands hastily, rather rudely, after which johnny leaves back to the table, and he, kissing the top of your head gently, gently strokes the curve of your back and whispers — «let's get back home, yeah, sweetheart?»

and you can only nod weakly, burying yourself in his shoulder more actively, before allowing him to take everything into his own hands and, squeezing you more possessively, head towards the exit.

#.𐙚july's writings #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley comfort #simon riley comfort #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x f!reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley fic #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction

[merakiui]

Helloooo! I’d like to order a flower bouquet + strawberry ice cream from the misc. menu as well as some lemon squares + custard donuts from the midnight menu for Scaramouche <3

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping (no pronouns; reader has a pussy), modern college au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

You’re writing a paper.

Sitting at your desk, scrolling through clothes online, you wonder if your meager paycheck will cover the shipping costs. This is all research. Research that is very necessary in the paper-drafting process, of course! You click on an outfit just as Scaramouche looks up from his phone.

Correction. You’re trying to write a paper.

“Great progress. I can really see the thought you put into this.”

“I’m envisioning it as we speak.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere.” He sets his phone down and leans closer. “Last I checked you’re not writing about clothes.”

“Last I checked,” you say, mocking him, “I didn’t ask for commentary. Don’t you have anything better to do?” 

A smug smile sharpens on his face. “I can think of a few things.”

Groaning, you shove him away. “No way. Not today.”

“Why not? It didn’t seem to bother you that last time when we did it before your lecture. You were so out of it you didn’t want me to leave you alone. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Not my fault I was tired! Don’t tell me you’ve never said and done stupid things when you’re running on three hours of sleep.”

“Not once,” he declares, looking quite proud. As if it’s some grand achievement. Does he want an award? “And even if I was, I wouldn’t be reduced to sugary, sappy putty.”

“I called you ‘sweetheart’ once by mistake. Get over it.”

Scaramouche rests his elbow on the desk, his cheek in his hand. “I don’t think I want to.”

Shutting your laptop, you turn in your chair to face him. “And I don’t think I want to fuck you today.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re gonna do all the work?”

“That’s the plan. Be grateful I’m so good to you,” he teases, leaning closer and closer until—

You block your lips before he can capture them. “I really can’t today. Paper aside, I don’t have any protection and I’m not on birth control right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be inside.” He sits back in his chair, exuding casual confidence. “Unless you want to risk it.”

You try to put enough ice in your glare, but it melts quickly. You really shouldn’t. It’s not a safe day. You really, really shouldn’t…

Scaramouche raises a brow, waiting for your reply.

Despite everything, you’re wheedled into it anyway. You’re not even sure what you want. Is it yes or no? It’s been months since you fell into this arrangement with him—the campus’s infamous lone wolf who goes out of his way to make himself unapproachable. Or, according to your friends, he’s more of a lonely stray cat in need of a friend. Scaramouche had scoffed when you told him that.

Your friends are idiots, he said with a scowl. It only made him look even more like a grumpy cat in need of companionship. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It would only serve to stoke the flames of his ire.

But right now, looking up at him while he ruts into you, sweat sticking in all the right places, his hair falling over his eyes, you’re inclined to agree with that observation. There’s a depth to his gaze that draws you in, a sad glimmer hiding behind the ardor. There’s never been any attachment outside of the bedroom. You’re not even sure if he considers you a friend.

Still, you wonder…

“Scara, do you—” You cut yourself off with a startled gasp, your nails curling into his shoulders. He’s holding you down by your hips, fucking into you like the world’s about to end. “S-Slow down. Wait, I—aah—oh!”

He sucks in a staggered breath through grit teeth, his jaw set firmly. “You’re never going to leave me.”

Your brain stalls out, and suddenly you’re not sure how to respond. He doesn’t lessen the brutal pace at which he thrusts, so you’re forced to piece together a half-coherent answer amidst your groans.

“N-Not anytime soon—mmh… Why? What’s up?”

Scaramouche lifts his head from your neck. A strange smile turns the corners of his lips up. “It’s not a question. I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

You blink back at him, lust-drunk and dazed. The horror edges in, slow and steady like invasive rot. It isn’t until he’s pinning your legs up by your ears to force you into another position that the implication finally catches up to you. You claw at his back with weak strokes, babbling futile protests against his mouth. In response, his cock throbs inside of you, pressed so deep in this position you fear the repercussions. He kisses you with much the same force, insistent on driving you into the mattress—on pinning you here until you finally submit. Until the last of your resolve withers away, stamped out and replaced with something agreeable.

“Even if you wanted to,” he says around a shaky laugh, seeming positively deranged, “you couldn’t.”

You think you should be worried, but you’re so stunned with this development that your brain can’t keep up. Embarrassingly, you cum with a strangled sort of cry, your pussy clenching tight. He hisses through his teeth, fucks you through the high of your orgasm, and then falls with you, his own climax fast like a flash.

You’re panting in the aftermath. What just happened?

Scaramouche keeps you plugged with his cock for as long as he possibly can before he’s sliding out, flaccid and spent. For now, you suspect, for there will certainly be more later if your wits aren’t about you by then.

“Pill,” you mumble, voice hoarse from crying. You shake him, hoping he’ll climb off of you and get to it. “Scaraaa…”

Oddly, for someone who never shows any vulnerability, he clings. “We’ve got time. I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

You don’t believe him. Not when his hand strays to your stomach. His palm brushes over the area once. He sighs, wholly satisfied.

“We’ve got time…”

Nine months of it, in fact. But that goes unspoken. If not today, there’s always tomorrow. You know he won’t rest until then. Neither will you. Your heart is too big, too soft, for that lonely stray cat, and part of you wonders if he knows that.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: babytrapping #lunar love hotel 2023

[cryptidghostgirl]

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

#x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader fics #x reader one shot #x reader writer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #requested #request #requests #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x you #x reader oneshot #request one shot #one shot #oneshot

[lovelybrooke]

What’s up with MC? (Platonic yandere Hazbin Hotel immortal au)

So I've really wanted to write some stuff about reader and their life. I hope this helps you guys understand them a little bit more. This doesn't have much to do with Hazbin Hotel, but hopefully you still enjoy.

Trigger Warning for: Very bad/neglectful parenting, disassociation, talks of regretting a child, bullying, please tell me if I need to include anything else.

masterlist

---

You were born a very small and loud baby. You cried and cried, even after your mother took you into her arms and laid you down on her chest. Even when your father took you for a few seconds so he could hand you to the nurse. And even when she rolled you down the hallways of the hospital to get your test done. It wasn't until you cried yourself asleep that it was finally quiet.

Life wasn't always so bad, back when your dad was around and your mom wasn't a drunk. Your father worked at a family pharmacy, had good hours and was home before dinner. Your mother stayed at home taking care of you. She would make you lunch, play games with you, and would even rent movies from the library to watch with you. In your childlike eyes, life was perfect.

Things weren't perfect though. In reality, your mother got pregnant young, forcing her to marry your father when she was 20. In her young, 20 year old mind, she thought she loved your father and he thought he loved her. So getting married seemed like the next step when she realized she was pregnant. And she loved you, she loved your smooth skin, she loved giving you baths, and dressing you up. But she didn't like the crying, and the sick days, and the clinginess. She hated having to be the one to deal with all those things while your father was at work. And when he was at home, he wasn't a help either. He was distant, they never talked or loved each other like they did when they were teens.

Your mother started drinking when you were three. It started off with wine at dinner, then at lunch and dinner, then at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Eventually, she started picking you up from Pre K drunk, the other moms could smell it on her. One mom told an admin who told the principal who told your mom that another parent would need to pick you up. You could faintly remember the fight your mom had in the parking lot and then with your father at the dining room table. Whenever your mom got like that, you imagined that you weren't yourself, instead you were a character in one of the books your mom used to read to you. It helped.

As your mom got worse, your father slowly stopped showing up. He said he had more work, his boss was getting older so he had to pick up the slack. When he was home, he was distant and cold. He never wanted to play with you, he treated you less like his child and more like an associate. As you got older you knew it was because he didn't want this life, he didn't like his 9 to 5, and he didn't like coming home to a drunk wife and a child he never desired to have. And when he stopped showing up, a part of you, even though you barely knew him, was relieved. It meant less fights, less loud yelling, and less time spent inside your own head.

You were a quiet kid all throughout school. You never were good at making friends, but it wasn't something that bothered you. With your dad gone, money got tight, and when you were seven, your mom started working at your local supermarket. It wasn't great, but it was better than having no money. That's also when she started smoking. You stopping kissing her goodnight because she smelt like cigarets. You felt bad, but she didn't seem to care.

When you were eight, you were trying to climb a tree in your backyard when you fell, breaking both of your legs in the process. You laid there until the bright blue sky became black, eventually falling asleep and having the strangest dream. Your mother didn't find you until the next morning, your cries being drown out by the beers and t.v. She took you the hospital where you were apparently fine.

When you were ten your father called the house. It was a Saturday meaning your mom would sleep in, and when you picked up the phone, you heard a voice you didn't know. It was old, manly, and angry. He was shouting something about money and credit cards, and when you hung up, he called again, and again, and again, until eventually your mother woke up. They argued for hours and when they were finished, your mother told you not to answer the phone again, so you didn't.

When you got to middle school you experienced bullying for the first time. A girl in your 3rd period made fun of your clothes, which your mother found at the thrift store. You never realized that you wore the same clothes every day until then, and so when you got home you learned how to use the washing machine. From that day on you did the laundry in your house, and when your mother suggest you make dinner, you did that too. It eventually became a routine, you'd go to school, your mom went to work, you'd get home and clean the house, do laundry, and make dinner, all while you mom watched t.v. It never bothered you, because if you didn't do it, who would.

The bullying didn't stop, even into high school. You were the poor kid with a drunk mom and an absentee father, you were the prime subject for bullying. It was never anything big, the occasional teasing and mocking, especially on days when your mother would pick you up. It was embarrassing, to have her yell at you from her old, beat up truck. Or when she'd smoke in the school parking lot. Or when she rant to you about work and get mad when you interjected. You got better as you got older ignoring it, ignore her, ignoring the way she made you feel.

When kids would talk about your dad, you'd make up a different person in your head since you never remembered who he was. You imagined him as a prince, handsome and knightly. You imagined dancing with him, him kissing you on the forehead before you went to sleep, and him telling you he loved you. You guessed that was the great thing about having a deadbeat dad, he can just kinda be whoever you wanted, even if it wasn't real.

When you were 15, you were working on a project after school when your mom forgot to pick you up. You were forced to walk home from school, alone, in the cold, when a car swerved your way and you fell unconscious. You were having the craziest dream until you woke up, in your bed, your mom asleep in the living room, game shows playing loudly on the t.v.

You stopped relying on your mother for anything after that. You stopped expecting her to help you, stopped expecting her to pick you up from school, or to even pay your bills. You got a job and started contributing what you could so you could keep the lights on. You knew it wasn't right, that this isn't how a parent should act. But she was still your mom, she still loved you, right? If not, then what was all this for.

---

A/n: I think I made readers life too tragic, sorry. Parts of this were based on my own experiences growing up but nothing this bad, so feel free to tell you what you think.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #platonic yandere helluva boss #yandere helluva boss #helluva boss x reader

[unholyhelbig]

Your Oversight story is so amazing, I’m obsessed truly. I need some domestic fluff with Nat, reader, and Ronnie. Like making cookies for Ronnie’s class or something!!! Thank you for feeding my mafia boss obsession!

Title: Little Marksman [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha's mother makes an impromtu visit to the United States, sending Natasha and Yelena into a sprial about how their mother will react to their partners.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): None, I think, just fluff!, and horrible grammar

[a/n: This isn't exactly the fluff you requested, but I think it's pretty fluffy! Thank you all for the oversight requests, I promise, I'll get to them soon!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Natasha Romanoff did not often allow herself to indulge in the simple things. Sleeping in had long been a thing of the past, she’d spring up at the first chirp of an alarm and spend her mornings in a ritual of freshly pressed coffee, a long run that would coat her in a sheen of sweat, and then finally sitting down to attend to the boring side of business.

That, of course, had changed when she welcomed you into her life. You were decidedly not a morning person and would grumble until you found her alarm clock in the dark, shutting it off and pinning Natasha down with your dead weight as you fell back into a deep slumber. She hadn’t the heart to move you.

Then, when Veronica had gotten her own room there were some nights when Natasha would stir from her vigilant sleep. She’d startle, really. Your daughter was mostly silent during the day and happened to be worse at night. She would stand at the bottom of the bed, contemplating waking you.

It only ever bothered you after you watched the ring for the first time. After that, you would sense her presence and it seemed like Natasha was the same. She sat up and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” Natasha croaked, “are you alright?”

Natasha saw the silhouette of Ronnie shake her head and the woman looked sparingly at you. Light breathes escaped you, dead to the world. She heard the little word, barely a whisper. “Nightmare.”

It tugged at Natasha’s heart to the point where it was almost painful. She wanted to wrap her up that first night, pull her close until she wasn’t afraid of whatever had plagued her in her dreams. Tentatively, she scooted to the far side of the mattress and patted the space she’d created between the both of you.

Veronica snuggled under the blankets, shivering as her cold began to ebb away. Natasha felt stiff for a moment, lying on her back. She could feel your daughter’s body heat against her, and made the conscious choice not to move closer.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” She eventually whispered. “I’m here to listen, Ronnie, malen'kiy strelok.”

Little Marksman. Her father used to call Natasha the same, despite her not being the greatest shot. But, she was better than Yelena and that’s all the mattered at the moment. The term of endearment rolled off her tongue like honey and shocked her in the process.

Veronica didn’t say anything, she often didn’t, but she wrapped her tiny, strong arms around Natasha’s arm and buried her cheek into her, reveling in the close contact. She softened instantly and found herself staying awake until Ronnie’s breath evened out.

Neither her alarm, nor Ronnie stirred her this particular morning. Instead, it was a frantic knocking at her door. The sun streaming through the blinds indicated that she had been given the chance to sleep in, and if that wasn’t enough, you had left a little note on her side table: Get some sleep, I’ll handle the morning meetings. Love you!

It was close to noon, from her estimate, so you had kept up your end of the bargain. Natasha groaned into the silk pillow and pulled her way to the door. She glowered at the woman that stood on the other side.

“Did someone die?” Natasha grumbled, “Because you’re about to.”

“You are incredibly grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?”

Yelena shoved her way into the room. She was holding an envelope that had yet to be opened. There was a specific floral scent, almost like roses. Natasha crinkled her nose; she knew that smell. It had been a constant soothing presence throughout her childhood and beyond. Sometimes, she would walk into random rooms and catch a whisp of the spectral scent.

She snatched the envelope from her sister. It had already been crudely ripped, despite Natasha’s name being on it. This was a federal offense- but most of the stuff that this family did was, so it bothered her surprisingly little.

“Mama is coming for a visit.”

Yelena spilled the words out before Natasha could process the neat Russian writing. Her stomach dropped. Melina and Alexi had moved to a small far just outside of Moscow years ago. They stated that they wanted to get out of the city, but really, Alexi couldn’t keep his hands out of the business if they stayed in the city.

They would call every once and awhile, but were mostly solitary. She’d get a call on Christmas, and her birthday and sometimes the anniversary of her first kill. That one was hit or miss. Rarely- never- had Melina decided to drop by.

“I may have let it slip that you have a girlfriend.”

“Yelena!” Natasha shoved her roughly “Why would you do that?”

“It just came out! She was grilling me about Kate, and I panicked. You know yours is more put together than mine.”  

“You threw me under the bus.”

Yelena had a genuinely sad look on her face, one that was borderline pouty. Natasha growled through clenched teeth and finally got a chance to read her mother’s writing. She’d be here tomorrow, and there was too much to do. Natasha’s head started to spin.

In fact, you weren’t more put together than Kate. The two of you seemed to feed off of each other’s chaos. It was fine to deal with on a regular basis, but Melina was like a bloodhound. She would smell fear, and she would play into it until you both were reduced to a crushable size.

Oh, this was not good.

Natasha must have paled noticeably because Yelena took a tepid step closer, creasing her fingers against the empty pink envelope. Melina would be flying alone. She’d be here in two days and that didn’t give either girls much time to process the invasion at all.

Though her father was a stern man in practice, he was much easier to impress than her mother. They balanced one another out, and that was something that would be sorely missed during this visit.

She took a steadying breath, running her fingers over the dented familiarity of her mothers perfect script. There was nothing to worry about, right?

Despite Natasha’s multiple text messages to her mother, insisting that she would send a car to pick her up, Melina took a cab from the airport, not bothering to let either of her daughters in on the fact. She knew the address of her pervious home like the back of her hand, knew the deep green grass of the landscaping and the stretching view of the harbor.

Natasha had been pacing the length of the family room for most of the day. Yelena was draped over the loveseat, her limbs hanging over the sides, making her look nearly lanky compared to the furniture.

“Natasha, please, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“How can you be so calm?” She halted her pacing, cutting her sister a deadly look.

“I am not calm. I simply mask it better than you.”

The muffled sound of a car door closing made Yelena shoot up from her lounging position, she was standing next to Natasha now, both of them staring wildly at the large oak doors. You and Kate had been sent out with a massive grocery list and it was much too early for the two of you to return with Ronnie. In fact, you usually stopped for some ice cream, or a small lunch as a reward for the tiny girl.

Natasha deemed it better not to inform you, nor Kate, about her mother’s visit. It could be considered cruel, sure, but knowing you the warning would do nothing but send you into an immense panic and that would simply spur her mother on.

Melina had arrived with nothing more than a half-packed duffel bag. She always packed light, using the key on her ring to open the door to the place that was once her home. Natasha and Yelena lingered by the curved entryway, watching as the woman, perfectly sculpted and entirely unchanged, smiled softly at the décor.

“Do not just stand there, girls, come give mama a hug.”

It was an order that Yelena folded in on first. She was stiff at first but at the floral scent that her mother carried like a vice, she melted into the embrace. There was nothing like a  mothers hug, and that was evident by her body language.

“Aw, sweet girl” Melina pulled back and squished Yelena’s face between her hands “you are much too lean. Is this Kate girl not feeding you?”

“Mama, prekrati eto” She grumbled, batting the woman away.

Melina narrowed her eyes but focused her attention on her oldest daughter. She grasped both of her hands first, giving them a small squeeze before pulling her into her embrace. Natasha melted, pressed her nose against the side of her mother’s neck. It had been much too long, and despite being reduced to a little girl in this moment, she didn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve healed nicely,” Melina said.

Of course, her mother had heard about the two shots that Natasha took to the back. She had been lucky and avoided any major injury. They were simply superficial, but she could understand how it would sound brutal all the same.

“Now,” she clapped her hands together, getting a devilish look in her eye “where is my granddaughter?”

Natasha choked on air before she glared at Yelena with a look that could kill. Her mother’s hand was patting her back. She’d become tender with age, it seemed. Still, a force to be reckon with, Natasha wouldn’t dare try anything.

“Your granddaughter?”

“Please, Natalia, she sleeps in your bed. Marriage or not, she’s your child. That’s how we got Clint, isn’t it?”

She was at a loss for words. Melina had a point. Clint was a mere stranger to Natasha until her parents took both her and Yelena to the circus that traveled through town. Her younger sister was nothing more than a baby, but Natasha was mystified. More than the clowns, and the acrobats, she had interest in the knife thrower and his charge.

A little boy that was around the same age as Natasha. When the show was over, Natasha refused to move until the young boy, covered in dirt and with dark purple bags under his eyes, started to sweep piles of popcorn and empty paper cups to the sidelines.

She’d introduced herself, and though he was quiet, she took an instant liking to him. Alexi had a few choice words with the boys guardian, who turned out, didn’t want to keep the kid and regarded him as nothing more than an employee- a runaway that had latched onto the circus. He had no idea who the boy belonged to, and Alexi decided that Clint belonged to them, now.

Instead of Clint being like family, he was family.

“Oh Mama, she will marry this girl.” Yelena beamed, “titles be damned.”

Natasha groaned into her hands. Had she thought about marriage? Yes, absolutely. She wanted nothing more than to make you officially hers. But she wanted to wait until the perfect moment; she wanted to not only include Ronnie, but get her input as well.

Melina gave a beautiful smile, patting Natasha’s cheek “I know, moya milaya. Are you not going to show me to my room?”

It was apparent that you and Kate had been sent on a fools errand when you finally got to the store and got a better look at the handwritten list that you were given: Milk, eggs, bread, A single MTS-I Mortorq screw, VW Mk4 Golf R32 duel clutch plate- and seriously, what the hell was that?

Darcy would know, and would have caught on a lot faster than you or Kate did. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was no reason to go to the store at all. You’d gone two days prior and knew for a fact that you’d gotten everything recognizable on the list.

“Kid,” Kate gave Ronnie’s had a squeeze “we’ve been played, bamboozled, tricked.”

Your daughter lifted an eyebrow at the woman’s antics. In a few years, she’d move on to eye rolling, and while you weren’t prepared for it, you would be glad for the indication. You’d done it yourself, crumpling up the list and shoving it into your pocket. There was no need to brave the crowds in the grocery store.

Instead, you aimed your sights on the small frozen yogurt place that was nestled in between a shoe store and a Gamestop. You might as well get a treat while you were out, considering Natasha requested you go further than the closest store because she liked the bread at this one better.

“They clearly wanted us out of the house. But why?”

“Yelena usually tells me everything.”

“Huh,”

“What? She does!”

“Doesn’t seem like the type.”

A sweet frozen scent hit your lungs and the little bell above the door sounded. There was a less than enthusiastic employee behind the counter, moving like molasses. You did have to kill time…apparently.

Veronica spoke up when dessert was involved. She didn’t carry a conversation with the teenager, but she did give little indicating sounds. Your arms were crossed over your chest to stave off the cold, and you settled for a simple chocolate. Ronnie loaded hers with a bunch of toppings, and Kate got vanilla with extra (extra) rainbow sprinkles. Each bite she took crunched like gravel.  

“The point is, she didn’t say anything about something going down, and if it was, wouldn’t they want us there? Clint’s out of town so we’re the only muscle they’ve got.”

The employee behind the counter lifted an eyebrow at you both and you made sure to stick an extra couple of bills in the tip jar with a sheepish smile. You ushered them both to one of the benches outside, basking in the highpoint of the sun and cursing Kate’s tact, or lack thereof.

“You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s something personal?” You suggested, reaching your pink plastic spoon over and stealing a bite of Ronnie’s candy-coated yogurt. She batted you away, a little too slow and you claimed your prize.

“Yelena tells me-“

“Everything, I know.”

Kate took her own scoop of frozen yogurt and crunched on it thoughtfully. “They’re nervous. If they’re being this secretive. They sent us out for car parts for a car that none of us own.”

“Lena said that Mama is coming for a visit.”

Ronnie’s feet didn’t’ touch the ground and she was working at dislodging a frozen gummy bear that became mostly inedible. She kicked back and forth and only looked up from her task when she was met with silence.

Kate’s mouth was propped open, and your eyes were wide. She frantically glanced between the both of you and shrugged her little shoulders. “This is one of those things I’m supposed to tell you, right?”

Kate nodded, suddenly losing her appetite “Uh-huh,”

You’d heard about Melina before, in passing, but Natasha seemed to bristle about the woman. She did the same for her father, but you knew the legends of Alexi and his kind hand when it came to running the city. Her mother was entirely different; entirely horrifying.

You’d seen a picture of her in a small and dusty shoe-box while helping Natasha clean out the attic one day last summer. It was stiflingly hot, and you were shocked to find it framed, but shoved away all the same.

Natasha was young, maybe around eleven, and Clint was next to her, smiling with missing front teeth. Yelena was smaller, the large hands of Alexi engulfing her shoulders. And then there was Melina, even in casual cargo shorts and striped tank-top, she looked regal and oh-so intimidating.

Your girlfriends’ arms wrapped around her midsection, her chin resting on your shoulder. She gave you a squeeze and stared down at the photo you were holding.

“You were cute as a kid.”

“were?”

“Still are!” you corrected, smiling lazily down at the family photo.

There was something longing behind your gaze that Natasha admired. Not that she would tell you that. Instead, she told you about the trip to Busche Gardens that ended in Clint nearly drowning and Yelena throwing up after she scarfed down three corndogs and a funnel cake.

Now you felt like you would vomit yourself, sliding your frozen yogurt away with a frown. You were far from prepared to meet Melina Romanoff, and by the green look on Kate’s face, so was she.

“Oh, we are so fuc… screwed. We’re screwed.”

“I know the word fuck, mommy says it all the time.”

“Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can. Eat your yogurt.”

You were clearly having a crisis and Veronica was clearly enjoying the fact that you’d given up on your frozen yogurt. She took alternating bites and would most definitely lose her appetite if she kept going, but you couldn’t’ bring yourself to push it away.

“Why wouldn’t they tell us?” you asked.

“Probably because of this” Kate made a vague gesture “this who panicking thing? Melina is going to kill us both and then it won’t matter but they decided to spare us the torture of waiting for this day.”

It felt like slowly working a mouse away from a glue trap by the time your frozen yogurt had turned to nothing but a brown soup. There was nothing to hold you and Kate from home now, and Ronnie was growing restless under the hand of the sun. You swore you heard her mutter something about Grandma, but chose to ignore it entirely in favor for pure fear.

Natasha seemed to be waiting at the door to intercept both you before you went any further. Not that you minded her soothing hand on your chest, and an apologetic look in her eyes. She smoothed your shirt down once, and then nervously, twice.

“Sweetie, I don’t think it’ll un-wrinkle, no matter how hot your hands are.”

“See that,” She whispered harshly, “Is something we’re not going to do. Both of you need to be on your best behavior. Understood? Better than best. Kate maybe don’t… talk.”

“Aye, captain.”

The younger woman frowned at her own words and instead settled for miming zipping her lips shut. Maybe it would better for you not to talk either. From your spot in the foyer, with Ronnie clinging to the fabric of your jeans, you could hear the muffled Russian. Yelena was responding to something, a bit of a whining tone to her voice.

Natasha’s hands had made their way to yours. She knit them together, a sort of an anchor. The other hand reached down to Ronnie, who was suddenly shy despite her earlier indifference. You could throw up right here and now but figured that would only serve to embarrass you further.

There was a clear similarity between Melina and Natasha; the high cheek bones, the striking green gaze, the flawless skin. She held the same cold stare that her daughter did but could hide her emotions better than your girlfriend. A stone dropped in your stomach under her gaze.

Natasha squeezed your hand tighter, her thumb on your pulse point. The pad of her finger ran over it gently, assuredly. She knew you were horrified. Kate gulped (which to her credit, was technically not talking, but was still painfully audible.)

Melina had a knife in her hand, a half-carved apple resting between she and Yelena like a peace offering. There were differences in the cuts, one smoother, the other more practiced. This family found leisure activity in carving techniques.

Natasha warned in a breath “Bud' milym, mama.”

Her mother didn’t heed the warning. Instead, she closed the difference between you. Yelena instinctively tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, not that she’d ever use it. Melina scrutinized you for what seemed like years, but was only a few ticking seconds.

“Ona khoroshen'kaya”

“spasibo, Miss Romanoff”

“ah, you know Russian?”

“Yelena has been teaching me.” You swallowed the dryness in your throat as her raised eyebrow lowered to something less intimidating. “Ma’am.”

“Manners too. Maybe you can teach my Natalia something or two about that.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you diverted your eyes to the floor. It had directed the attention in the room to the small girl clinging to your leg as if it were a piece of beached driftwood and she were fighting against the raging currents.

Melina knelt down in front of your daughter, her rigid stance loosening until she looked more like a mother than yourself. She was soft in this moment, the sun hitting her eyes in a way that made them glow supernaturally.

“Hi, Malen'kiy strelok”

Natasha parted her lips, as if to inform her mother that Veronica didn’t speak much, if at all. She’d gotten better, sure, but it was nearly stagnant with new people. Ronnie studied Melina as the woman had studied you.

“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked, her grip lessening.

Melina smiled “Little marksman. From what I hear, your mother has a very good aim. Do you?”

“I don’t know yet. Kate says I do.”

“Well, I’m sure we will find out in due time, milaya devushka.” She tentatively tucked a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear before standing again and focusing her attention on Kate. Kate who had paled at least ten shades and was sweating despite the air conditioning in the house.

Yelena straightened up herself, giving a silent warning with her stare. Of course, Kate didn’t’ see it like you and Natasha did, her arm having moved from your hand to your hip bone in the quiet approval from her mother. She’d relaxed significantly.

“Hi,” Kate squeaked out and Yelena stifled a groan put massaged her temple.

Melina seemed to look to Natasha for confirmation: This is the one she chooses?

With you, there was merit. There were callouses on your hands and scars that hardened under the fabric of your shirt. Kate was much of the same, though, she showed it in a nervous, fluttering type of way that presented outwardly as fumbling and awkward.

“Krasivo, no... puglivo. Like deer.” Melina offered a small smile to the girl and her breath seemed to release.

Skittish. Kate was certainly that, but she seemed to balance out Yelena with the perfect amount of caring and heart. Melina was nothing, if not vigilant. She clapped her hands together, that small smile turning into a large grin. “You all must eat something, you look starving. And Natasha, you are slouching, don’t’ slouch in front of your daughter. Those bad manners.”

“Mama, I am not slouching.”

Natasha groaned as the tension in the room broke. Her forehead pushed against your cheek. Veronica dragged Kate over to the kitchen island by the hand and instruction on the proper way to carve pieces from an apple began, much to Yelena’s huffing dismay.

Hands shifted from your hips, finding the two back pockets of your jeans. “She likes you,”

“I would be dead by now if she didn’t.”

“Yeah, right when you walked through the door.”

The two of you chuckled, her nose nudging against yours. “She called Ronnie your daughter.”

“I’m sorry, dorogoy, she pushes. She means well.”

You pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, words a light whisper “don’t apologize. I like the sound of it.”

Before Natasha could collect her thoughts, her rush of pure emotion, you had pulled away from her and joined the rest of the family around the kitchen island. Though she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, Natasha was more than content standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her heart pounded fondly.  

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha ROmanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request

[theonotti]

SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.” 

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain. 

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom. 

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line. 

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday. 

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug. 

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously. 

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.” 

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.” 

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her. 

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.” 

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas. 

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday. 

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut. 

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead. 

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her. 

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day. 

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief. 

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely. 

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard. 

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat. 

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold. 

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey. 

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth. 

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white. 

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life. 

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor. 

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out. 

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour. 

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground. 

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest. 

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

“Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth. 

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again. 

~

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan. 

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.” 

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself. 

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head. 

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone. 

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist. 

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck. 

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises. 

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds. 

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him. 

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this. 

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh. 

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates. 

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.” 

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

[peacelovepandora]

Exceeding It All

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

@missdreamofendless : "I’ve always wanted to see something with Jake and his newborn daughter, I just think it would be adorable"

^ thanks for the idea love !

enjoyyyyyy <3

. *. ⋆

Within the confines of the elders' quarters, Neytiri was in the process of giving life to you. Pacing frantically, Jake struggled to check his emotions as he awaited the birth of his third child. His two sons, Neteyam and Lo'ak, were being watched by other members of the clan. Though it was the middle of the night, far into the hours of eclipse, adrenaline kept Jake wide awake.

Neteyam and Lo'ak had both been quick births. However, tonight, Jake's mind raced as he noted how much longer you were taking.

Was everything okay? Was there a complication? Was Neytiri alright?

It took all of his strength not to burst into the tent. He'd already interrupted the elders four previous times. He knew that--should he make it a fifth--that they would be far from pleased with him.

As he tried to control his breathing, he looked down at his hands, dusting them at his sides.

Were his hands clean enough to hold you? What if he infected you with something and got you sick?

Frowning, Jake shook his head. He'd already done this twice before. Why was he so nervous with this one? What was different? Searching his mind for an explanation, he couldn't help falling into a cycle of affectionate thoughts.

What would you be like? Would he have another son to accompany his two others?

Relaxing a bit, Jake chuckled to himself as he envisioned three rowdy boys padding through the forest. Then, looking down at his hands, he finally made up his mind.

"Yeah, I should go wash up," he whispered to himself.

As he prepared to leave, a faint jakesully caused him to halt his movements. Turning around, he was met with the sight of Mo'at, holding the entrance beads back with one hand.

After a moment's silence, Jake finally spoke. "Mo'at?" Jake asked breathlessly.

"It is time," she replied, before nodding towards the inside of the tent, "Come."

For a moment, Jake stared at her, mouth agape and eyes wide. Then, swallowing thickly, he brushed his hands over his torso before sucking in a breath. With a small smile, Mo'at waited for Jake to approach the entrance before turning around and walking inside.

As Jake's heart pounded in his ears, he pulled the beads aside before stepping into the fire-lit quarters. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust--for he'd been relying on the bioluminescent lighting of the forest outside. Once they did, he spotted Neytiri's limp figure. Eyes closed, she was taking deep breaths as exhaustion crossed her expression. Moving quickly, Jake kneeled by her side, cupping her face in the process.

"Baby?" he whispered, rubbing a thumb over her cheek.

"Let her rest, Jakesully," Mo'at instructed, "She has just been relieved of the burden of birthing your daughter."

"I kno--" Jake spun around, eyebrows creased as his mouth fell agape. "Daughter?"

Mo'at raised her eyebrows. "Yes," she answered, "Eywa has blessed you with a daughter."

Sticking her hand out, Mo'at gestured towards two other elders. They were two women, both sitting on the floor, backs to him. After standing up, moving at a careful pace, Jake stepped towards the women. Feeling his presence behind them, one of them glanced back, meeting his gaze before scooting to the side. As she did so, he was finally given a view of you, his daughter.

Your small body was lying on a weaved blanket. Small, nearly inconceivable, noises were coming from your tiny lips. Instantly, Jake was taken back to the births of his two sons. Both boys had been loud babies, crying as soon as they'd reached the world.

But you, you were quiet. Your coos grew softer as your legs kicked out. Then, reaching out, your small hands grew agitated--reaching out for a purpose that was unknown to you.

Jake, however, was fully aware of that purpose. An aching paternal instinct fueled his heart with a fierce protectiveness that had never been so strong before.

Your eyes were closed. You had entered the world only minutes before. And yet, your newborn instincts could already recognize someone of your own blood. The small fibers in your body felt his presence and knew to reach out for him.

"Oh my," he breathed.

Gingerly, the woman sitting closest to him scooped you up. Jake had little time to register the moment before you were being handed to him. Sucking in a breath, Jake reached his hands out, cupping your back and head.

Quickly realizing this was an awkward grip, he readjusted himself to cradle you. Leaning back slightly, he released his breath as he tucked your head into the crook of his arm. Though he was capable of supporting you with one arm--given that you were just that small--he tucked his other arm beneath you for extra security.

Daughter, his mind echoed.

For a long moment, he remained silent as he gazed down at you. He hadn't realized that his mouth had fallen agape until his throat grew dry. Closing his mouth, he forced a swallow before nearly panicking as your eyes popped open.

Jake blinked, feeling his heart race as he held your gaze for the very first time. However, as your fresh gaze morphed from sudden-alertness to curiosity, Jake's demeanor softened, as well.

After releasing a long exhale, he finally broke the silence. "Wow," he spoke breathlessly, feeling a small smile tug at his lips, "Hey, baby girl. There you are."

"Were you expecting another son?" Mo'at asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile tugged at her lips.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Jake answered distractedly, never ripping his gaze from you, "but this . . . God, this exceeds everything. Every expectation I ever had. She exceeds everything."

As a small whimper escaped your lips, Jake frowned, instinctively searching your body.

"She's uncomfortable," Mo'at explained as Jake gently bounced you, "Fresh out of the womb, her body temperature is still warm. We must bathe her now."

"Let me," Jake spoke up, a little too harshly.

The women grew silent, staring at him. Jake's gaze shifted between the three of them before correcting himself.

"I mean . . . I never got to bathe my sons. It would be greatly appreciated if you would do me the honor of allowing me to bathe my firstborn daughter."

The two women looked to Mo'at. Lips pressed together, Mo'at scrutinized Jake's possessive grip on your small frame. After a few more moments of silence, she released a sigh before nodding once.

"Very well," she agreed, "but I will instruct you on how to conduct this properly first."

. *. ⋆

"Okay," Jake breathed, gently lying your body against the carefully-arranged leaves, "Alright."

Releasing his grip from behind your head, Jake began arranging the bathing supplies. In a militant manner, he repeated Mo'at's steps within his mind.

However, after a few minutes of feeling the absence of his hands from your body, a small whimper escaped your lips. Immediately, Jake turned his attention from the soap and ointment, focusing his sharp gaze on you.

"Hm?" he hummed, reaching out to take your small hands between his pointer and thumb fingers, "Hey . . . hey, baby. Easy, sweetheart, I'm here. I have you."

Upon feeling his touch, your whimpers dissolved. A smile tugged at Jake's lips as he caught on to your desire to remain close to him.

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding slightly, "I've got you."

Leaning down, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. Then, turning his attention back to the soap and ointment, he continued to organize them, keeping a loose grip on one of your hands as he did so.

When he was satisfied, he released a breath before giving you his full attention, once again. Turning to face you, he returned his grip to both of your hands. He rubbed his thumbs over your skin as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Okay, baby girl," he began, "you wanna do me a favor and make this easy for me? It'll be better for the both of us in the long run."

Cooing softly, you held his gaze before tugging your hands from his grip. Hands outward, you reached for his face.

A tender smile pulled at his lips as a fond expression crossed his face. Leaning down, he allowed your hands to hover over his cheekbones. Then, closing the distance, he gently pressed his forehead against yours.

A delighted coo left your lips, before a giggle followed it. Jake, who had temporarily closed his eyes, snapped them open. Leaning back, he gave himself a full view of your tiny face. A smile danced on your lips as you giggled up at him.

Shaking his head, he placed two kisses on your forehead. He followed them with two kisses on your cheek.

"You're so beautiful. You're such a--"

He interrupted himself, placing two kisses on your stomach, eliciting giggles from you. "Such a pretty girl," he finished.

As you quieted, he kept his gaze trained on you. "Alright," he rasped, gently wrapping his hands around you, "Let's do this."

Carefully lifting you, he positioned you over a carefully carved bathtub, which was filled with soft shrubs and lukewarm water. A soft pillow, which had been folded together from a leaf, laid at the edge of the tub---giving cushion for your head to rest on above the water. Gingerly, he lowered you into the water, holding his breath as he awaited your reaction. To his relief, the slight change in environment didn't seem to disturb you.

Puffing his cheeks out, he released a breath. "Okay . . ." he whispered, trying to bury his apprehension.

He knew from experience that his babies could sense his emotions, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you nervous. After releasing you, allowing you to grow accustomed to the water, he grabbed a cloth and the first soap.

Your curious eyes watched his movements, as he dipped the cloth into the water before soaking it with soap. After placing the soap down, he turned his attention back to you. Meeting your eyes, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Tilting his head slightly, he spoke up. "Alright," he whispered, lowering the cloth to your skin, "let's start with this little belly, shall we?"

With a feather-light touch, he moved the cloth in circular motions against your skin. The combination of his motions, and the water, relieved your overheated body. A small smile tugged at your little lips as you cooed up at him, enjoying the sensation.

He smiled, a playful glint evident in his gaze. "There's that smile," he said softly, "Is this what you needed, baby? Feels nice, doesn't it?"

Your legs kicked briefly in response. As he began to move to your arms, gently grabbing your little limbs and washing them, he continued to talk to you.

"Guess it makes sense that you'd be pretty warm and uncomfortable after being in the womb for so long," he whispered, before meeting your eyes, once again, "but you're here now, aren't you? As beautiful as ever."

He moved to your legs, gently running the cloth over your soft skin. “I gotta tell ya, you were quite the little surprise,” he continued, “but that isn’t your doing. That was all on me. It’s like I forgot there was a possibility that I could have a little girl.”

When you eyed him curiously, he chuckled. “Aw, cut your daddy a little slack. After having two sons, it’s easy to just expect another one.”

Finally, he slowly poured water over you, washing the soap off. “But I’m so glad that I got you, baby girl," he finished, a small smile tugging at his lips, "You were the last thing I ever expected and the best thing I could've had."

He remained attentive to your every move as he finished washing you. Then, gripping you carefully, he lifted you from the water and placed you on a large, warm cloth. His eyes grew distant as he spoke.

"Never really thought about having a daughter, but now that I have you, I think I subconsciously wanted one all along."

He releases a breath through his nose before locking eyes with you. A content expression crossed your face as you squirmed slightly.

"Ah!" you said, responding to his string of sentences that you had yet to understand.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "That's right, baby," he replied, leaning closer to you, "I'm talking about you."

Gripping the sides of the towel, he dried your damp body with gentle pats. Then, shifting his gaze for a moment, he grabbed the ointment before placing it next to your little body.

"Okay," he breathed, "The hard part is over. Now, we just gotta lotion you up."

Dipping his fingers into the cup of ointment, he scooped up a generous amount before rubbing it together in his palms.

Watching his movements---with fresh eyes that marveled at everything---you found humor in his actions. A giggle escaped your lips as your eyes zeroed in on his hands, observing him rubbing them together.

Jake paused his actions, glancing down at you. He raised an eyebrow before briefly rubbing his hands together for a moment, testing your reaction. When he paused his actions, another giggle escaped your lips.

He let out a brief chuckle, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity and slight confusion. Then, he rubbed his hands together again, before pulling them apart and showing you the ointment on his palms, wiggling his fingers to flaunt the liquid texture.

His actions elicited a fresh wave of giggles on your part. Chuckling softly, he glanced at his hands before looking back at you.

"Is that funny, baby girl?" Jake asked, affection seeping through his tone, "Do you like seeing Daddy struggle with pampering you?"

You cooed in response, a small smile still dancing on your lips. He shook his head, smiling softly as he lowered his hands to your body. With a tender touch, his fingers moved in circular motions over your smooth skin, massaging in the moisturizing liquid.

When he went to get another scoop of liquid, he made a show out of his hand movements, exaggerating each rub and wiggling his fingers in the air. To his delight, this sent you into a fit of laughter.

He tilted his head back in laughter before tilting his head. "This is really gettin' you goin', isn't it?" he asked, "I can't help wondering what you find so amusing about this . . . but I guess it doesn't really matter. If it makes you laugh, I'll do it all night."

Once he finished moisturizing you, he swaddled you in a light blanket, making sure you wouldn't grow too warm. Finally content, he lifted you into his hands and cradled you in his arms.

"There we go," he whispered, adjusting you slightly, "How's that, sweet girl?"

Your eyelids grew heavy as you blinked up at him. Still awestruck by your existence, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning back to take you in. Once he began rocking you, it didn't take long for you to nod off in his arms.

"A daughter," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, "A daughter that's all mine."

As he held you, he reflected on what having a little girl would entail---the journey that was ahead. Though Neteyam and Lo'ak were still young, he never had a second thought about who their future partners would be. His mind had never lingered on what teenage girls might find them intriguing during their adolescent years. And yet, as he stared down at you, his little girl, he was overwhelmed with a strong wave of possessiveness as he pictured your adolescent years.

No boy would come near you. No boy would touch you. He would make sure of it.

Jake's mind grew still as he caught himself in the midst of these racing thoughts. This was new territory for him.

You were his little girl. As he thought about how he would go about raising you, his instincts veered from what he'd done with his sons. Of course, he wanted you to be strong, and to know how to defend yourself, but that instinct wasn't at the forefront of his mind---like it was for his sons.

Instead, more than anything, he wanted to . . . shield you. He wanted to hold you close and keep you away from harm. He wanted to see you blissfully pad through the forest and marvel at Eywa's creations, just like your mother. He didn't want to see you fight---not if you didn't have to.

Jake made a vow to himself. He promised to not only protect you, but to remain in tune with your emotional state. He knew that raising his tender baby girl would require different approach---compared to how he was raising his two rowdy boys.

"I'm here for you, baby girl," Jake whispered, brushing a thumb over your cheek, "Always."

. *. ⋆

omgggg I finally put this out! thank you so so much for your patience, and a special thank you to all of you that have remained loyal, continued to check in, and/or simply stuck around for me! I cherish you all and I hope you are all doing well and having a great summer!

as usual, let me know what your thought are about this! it's been awhile since I've delved into this universe, so if anything comes off a little rusty, I apologize!

anyways, all my love!

hugs and kisses x.

Taglist : @eywas-daughter @pturnersblog @bombshe77 @faatxma @scryarchives @gamorxa @222krn @ellabellabus07 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @raefoxiegirl @vampxra @itssiaaax @tinkerbelle05 @brittclass-18 @missroro @aisylazzy @leomatsuzaki @joey-hoey @eternallyvenus @mae-is-crazy @nyotamalfoy @mashiromochi @theghostofshadows @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @cmfouatslota77 @laylasbunbunny @fanboyluvr @phxntomx11 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @ellabellabus07 @abbersreads @23victoria @sully-stick-together @uselessbutinteresting @fleursbending @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn

#jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully daughter #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #Jake Sully fluff #Jake Sully x y/n #soft #protective Jake sully #Jake sully 2009

[amiableness]

At Last

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj's cousin comes to town and attempts to get with y/n, pissing off jj in the process.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: dean turns out to be an ass, pet names (baby & sweetheart), oral (m & f), dirty talk, language, and p in v {there might be more, let me know!}

a/n💌: she's here! thank you for all your patience while i worked on this fic, hit some writers block while working on it. some of the smut might be familiar if you've read some of my old work, it's because i copied it from gentle. i will be deleting that fic and 'replacing' it with this one!

JJ Maybank couldn’t remember his childhood without Dean Maybank in it. There wasn’t a time he could recall when the nearly identical blonde wasn’t by his side. From diapers to teens, both boys spent most of their time together. Separated by only two months, the boys were practically brothers. There were mistaken for siblings nearly everywhere they went. Whenever one went, the other one was sure to follow. Their moms used to pretend they couldn’t tell the boys apart when they were little, sending both boys into a fit of giggles as they desperately tried to get their moms to remember their sons.

He was twelve when his mom left, and everything fell apart instantly. Luke turned to bottles upon bottles of alcohol to soothe the ache she left in her wake, and JJ was forced to grow up quickly. Andrew and Cecelia Maybank weren’t far behind, taking Dean with them. JJ never knew why his mom left or why his aunt and uncle followed him closely behind. But he was left alone to wonder for many nights why he was left behind.

JJ had years of practice burying the hurt and anger he felt, but as he sits across from his cousin at a table of The Wreck, he can feel the anger simmering. He’s not particularly fond of his cousin being back in town, but that’s not getting under his skin. It’s the fact that Dean has been eyeing you for the past twenty minutes.

“Wait, how long since you have been here?” Cleo asks Dean, attempting to break some awkward silence between JJ and him. Cleo slides into her chair next to Pope while she sends a welcoming smile to Dean, who sits across from Pope.

“Been a while, about seven years now.” Dean Maybank answers with a soft smile. He’s got the same blonde hair as JJ, but he keeps it a lot shorter and has dark blue eyes. They look like they could be twins.

“No wonder I haven’t met you then; I haven’t been around long.” Cleo supplies as Pope tosses his arm over her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple.

“And Y/n?” Dean asks as he glances back over at you as you laugh with Kiara and Sarah while waiting for your order. Cleo’s lips part a little, and she spares a glance over at JJ, who has pulled his attention away from his phone at the mention of your name. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his body is tense as he stares down at his cousin. Dean doesn’t notice, his eyes glancing back at you.

“She joined the group about six years ago.” John B answers just as the three of you walk over with full hands. John B is sitting next to Dean, saving a spot for Sarah. From the look his best friend is giving him, he’s glad he sat next to Dean.

“Kiara, I love this place, but it’s so slow when you aren’t working here.” Sarah sighed as all the plates were set down and passed around. There’s a rumble of agreement at the table, and Kiara laughs loudly before sitting beside Sarah.

You slip into your spot between Cleo and JJ. JJ would never admit it out loud, but having you fall into the seat next to him and speak softly to only him sends a spark of possessiveness. He loves it when your attention is only on him.

“I got us a milkshake to share,” He watches as you rip the wrapper off the straw before pausing, eyes darting between the straw in your hand and the milkshake sitting in front of you. “They only gave us one; I’ll go grab-”

“We can share.” He grabs the straw from your hands before plunging it into the chocolate shake between you and taking a quick sip. You flush, realizing that you both will be sharing a straw. This wouldn’t bother you in any other case, but it’s JJ. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it had been anyone else. But something about him fills your stomach with that giddy feeling that makes you almost jittery with nerves.

His grip is still on the straw as he gives you a slight nod to take a sip. Your cheeks flush when you realize that he’s holding the drink, expecting you to take a sip like this. You lean forward, taking a tentative sip, ignoring how JJ watches you so closely. Having his eyes on you sets off that flurry of butterflies again.

“So cute, guys.” John B teases, making a heart with his hands, and your cheeks burn. You fight the urge to toss a fry at him. John B was notorious for calling out any moments you shared with JJ, which always left a hot flush on your body. Were your feelings for him that obvious? Did JJ know?

You peek over at JJ, who is flipping his best friend off.

The table is quickly drawn back into the conversation as your friends try and get to know Dean more. JJ stays quiet, instead choosing to eat and mutter things to you occasionally. You can’t help but be curious about why he avoids talking to his cousin. John B said that they used to be close, but from how JJ is acting now, you can’t help but wonder what happened.

“Y/n isn’t much of a surfer either.” Your ears perk up at the mention of your name. Sarah is giving you a pointed look indicating that you totally missed out on something.

“I was saying I’m not a big surfer,” Dean supplies at your confused expression. “Maybe we could do something else so everyone heads out to surf later.” The soft smile he sends your way makes your cheeks flush.

You open your mouth to answer, but JJ cuts you off.

“You used to surf all the time.” JJ’s tone is flat, surprising you that he finally decided to speak during this lunch. He had spent the last hour not saying a word to Dean. You glance over at him to see he’s sending an unimpressed look toward his cousin.

“Used to. Not anymore.” Dean shrugs, and you can tell he feels a little unsure around JJ, and you don’t blame him. If JJ was looking at you the way he was looking at Dean, you would feel a bit unwelcome too.

Ever the people pleaser, you send a smile over at Dean. “I would love that, Dean.”

“Dean Maybank is cute.” Sarah breathes out dramatically once all four of you are alone in her room. The boys are all at the Chateau; Cleo thought this might help JJ warm up to Dean more. You highly doubted it.

Your cheeks flush when you realize Sarah is directing this comment at you. You give a little shrug as you sit on the edge of her bed.

“Are you calling JJ cute then? Because they look like brothers.” Cleo teases as she pulls her bikini out of her bag. In front of the mirror, Kiara braided tiny pieces of her hair, laughing lightly at Cleo’s comment.

“Is that what we’re really gonna talk about right now?” You ask, feeling apprehensive about comparing the two. There’s no way you wanted to compare the two, mainly because you knew that JJ would always come out on top in your eyes.

“Yes! He seems pretty damn interested in you.”

“Maybe, but Dean isn’t the Maybank she wants.” Kiara sings songs, and your mouth parts as your sputter out a reply, but you can’t seem to deny it.

“I-no! JJ and I are just friends; we always will be.” You wanted to be sick saying these words.

“Are you serious? He looked ready to kill Dean when he asked you out.” Kiara glanced over her shoulder at you making your cheeks burn.

“He did not ask me out.”

“He made a move for sure,” Cleo called as she headed towards Sarah’s bathroom with her bikini. A sigh passed your lips just as the door clicked shut.

“Nothing is gonna happen whether he made a move or not.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked, tossing herself on her bed next to you.”

“I just-it feel wrong.”

“Because it’s not JJ,” Kiara states this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as she finishes her hair and turns to face you. Sarah and Kiara nearly scream at the expression on your face, giving you away.

Maybe it was selfish, but JJ had been hoping you had forgotten about agreeing to spend time with Dean while the group went surfing. But here he was, watching the two of you walking up the beach and away from the group. Surfing with his friends meant you would be sat higher up on the beach immersed in one of the many romance books you owned. 

Not this time. He watched as you walked away, this time as his cousin held your bag for you.

“JJ, you comin’ or what?” John B hollered. JJ sighed and headed towards the beach, aware that this was the first time in his life that he did not want to go surfing.

“It’s not a date, man; quit pouting.” His best friend mumbled, clapping JJ on the shoulder. The blond sent him an irritated look.

“But he damn well wants it to be,” The thought made JJ’s stomach tighten with discomfort. “She could want it to be.”

“I doubt it,” John B shook his head in disagreement. All the different times he had caught Y/n or JJ pining after each other had proved otherwise. But that wasn’t his place to tell. “Listen, if you like Y/n, you need to tell her. I’m not saying she’s gonna end up with Dean, but I know she won’t be single forever.”

“It’s complicated,” JJ grumbles as he rakes his hand through his hair. He needs a haircut but refuses to get one after he overhears you say you like long hair on guys. Maybe that makes him pathetic, but so be it.

“It’s really not; you’re just making it that way by avoiding telling her.”

“John B, fuck off,” JJ snaps, but his best friend knows not to take offense. “Telling her how I feel could mean losing her as my best friend, and that’s not worth it.”

“But what if telling her means you get her as your girlfriend and best friend?” John B’s words cause his stomach to flip at the thought.

“Wishful thinking, man.”

Your time with Dean was going well, and you were thrilled that you got on with him so quickly. Part of you wanted to ask, but you were scared of making a fool out of yourself if he told you no. Not that you were hoping it was; you just genuinely weren’t sure how Dean viewed this hangout.

He had taken you to a little ice cream shop, one that he said his mom used to bring him and JJ to all the time. Your heart had squeezed in your chest at the reminder that you weren’t there to watch him surf, one of your favorite pastimes. Quickly reminding yourself to enjoy the present moment, it was fair to Dean if your mind was caught up somewhere else.

“This is the best ice cream I’ve ever had; how did I not know about this place?” A quick moan of appreciation slips pasts your lips as you bite, proving your statement true. Dean laughs at your reaction, thrilled to see you enjoying one of his favorite places so much. The last time he was here was with his mom and JJ to have a quick treat after dinner. They left two days after that.

“One of the best places in OBX, hands down,” He replies, studying you with a soft fondness that you are oblivious to. Your entire focus was on stirring your ice cream to make it nice and smooth.

“Totally out of my comfort zone today,” You confess as you take another bite of the cotton candy ice cream. But the soft pink color was so pretty you just couldn’t resist. “JJ and I usually share mint chips.” Dean drops his eyes down to his ice cream at the mention of his cousin. 

“Can I ask you something?” He finally asks, and you quietly hum to tell him to go on.

“Are you and JJ..?” He trails off, unsure if he should continue his question by the look on your face. You place your spoon in your bowl and sigh.

“We’re just friends,” By the shrug of your shoulders and the way you naw on your bottom lip, Dean can tell you aren’t a man of this.

“And you’re alright with that?” He asks, hoping for an answer that could turn this into a date between you.

“I-uh-” You clear your throat and glance at the window towards the ocean, hoping to catch a glance of JJ. To no avail. “I’ve liked him for years, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t interested, so we’re just friends.”

Dean gives you an understanding look, but inside, he’s thrilled about your answer. You weren’t JJ’s.

It had been a couple of weeks of hanging out with Dean: trips to the beach, talking about books, getting ice cream, and movie marathons. You knew how this looked, but it was purely just as friends. You knew that, and Dean knew that. Or so you thought.

“So let me get this straight, you guys have been going on dates pretty much but just as friends?” Cleo asked, totally confused by what was happening between you and Dean.

“Yes, just friends,” You clarified as you attempted to fix your hair in a way you liked for tonight’s party.

“He brought you flowers this morning.” She deadpanned, glancing over at the bouquet of pink poppies on your bedside table. They were placed next to a picture of you and JJ, making Cleo snort quietly.

“He was just being nice,” You sounded exasperated, and Cleo wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or her nitpicking. “Nothing is going on.”

“Maybe for you! He’s clearly interested; he’s been taking you on dates -“You open your mouth to cut her off. “Yes - dates, all week. He’s interested.”

“I thought you were team Dean.” Your hair fell from your hands as you gave up on making the perfect bun; it just wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“That was Sarah. I’m team whoever makes you happy.”

“So, would you be happy if I went out with Dean?” You nibbled on your bottom lip as you waited for her response. Her eyebrows rose, and she stared at you for a second.

“Thought you were just friends.”

“We are! I just-“You paused, taking in a big breath of air and holding it for a second. “I don’t wanna miss a chance with a great guy because JJ doesn’t return my feelings. I can’t hold out hope forever.”

“First party of the summer, Dean! You excited?” John B asks as he presses a beer into Dean’s awaiting palm.

“It’s not the first party of the season,” JJ grumbles, and you shoot him a look, hoping he can control his anger towards his cousin for the night and enjoy the party.

“The first one he’s been to; he’s been too busy with our Y/n here.” John B taunts, sending you a wink when he sees you looking flushed. JJ feels sick. Are you blushing at the thought of being with Dean? Have you actually been going on dates with him all this time?

“Baby, leave them alone,” Sarah admonishes, giving a light slap to his arm. He lets out a laugh and drops his arm over her shoulder, leading her in the direction of the house.

An awkward silence falls over the three of you. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had already headed inside to get drinks, and you were now desperately wishing JJ had too. Anything would be better than the way he is currently glaring at Dean for standing too close to you.

“Want a drink?” Dean leans to whisper in your ear, and you send him a grateful smile.

“Yes, please,” You smile up at him, watching him for a second longer as he slips through the crowd. JJ clearing his throat is what brings your attention away from him.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing with him?” He asks, taking a step towards you. 

“We walked here together, and I-”

“No. What’s up with you spending so much time with him? I’ve hardly seen you in the last few weeks.” He steps closer and closer until the two of you are standing so close you can count all the freckles on his nose.

“We’ve been hanging out.” You supply, not wanting to give too much away. It’s not that we’re trying to be secretive, but you knew that JJ had a habit of getting protective over you. Guess what happens when you’re friends with someone for so long.

“Hanging out or going on dates?” His hand pushes the stand of your hair, blowing in the breeze. At the proximity of him, your heart squeezes, and your breath catches.

“Hanging out?” You answer in nearly a whisper, so focused on starting up at him. The heat of his fingers touching your skin feels like you have been branded.

“You don’t sound so sure.” There’s that cocky tone. He can tell you’re flustered by how close he is to you. You’ve always reacted to him this way. It’s moments like these where it doesn’t seem unbelievable to him that you might like him back.

“We’ve been hanging out, but it might be becoming more and-”

“Y/n” At the sound of Dean’s voice, you take a step away, startled. There’s a tone to Dean’s voice that JJ doesn’t like. He sounds possessive, too possessive for a guy who has only met you a couple of weeks ago.

Dean’s eyes flicker between the both of you, quickly picking up on the tension and closeness. In an act of jealousy, he slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, something he’s never done before. Your features flash with surprise that JJ quickly notices.

“Have a goodnight, JJ.” Dean bites out before steering you toward the direction of the house.

“I thought you said that you and JJ didn’t have anything going on.”

“We don’t.” You glance up at Dean, who still has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His jaw is tense, and you feel a flash of discomfort at seeing this new side of him.

“Didn’t look that way. He was close enough to kiss you.” Dean grits out, squeezing your shoulder that makes you wince.

“But he didn’t. I don’t understand-”

“You said that he wasn’t interested. I thought I clarified my intentions when I started taking you out on all these dates.” Your stomach flips, and you glance around at the crowd. None of your friends are nearby.

“I didn’t-“You clear your throat, willing yourself to make your voice come out stronger. His shift in personality has really thrown you off. “I thought we were hanging out. I didn’t realize you thought these past few weeks were dates.”

“They were dates, Y/n. Does John B or Pope ever take you- just you - out for ice cream or to the movies?”

“No, but JJ-”

“Jesus, Y/n! JJ doesn’t view you as a friend. If we’re gonna be dating this summer, I don’t think you should hang out around him.” You were utterly confused. There was never a time when you two were hanging out. Did he act like this or make his intentions about dating you clear. And there was absolutely no way you would give up being around JJ, even if Dean’s attitude hadn’t done a 180.

You were beginning to panic, unsure how to handle his growing anger. 

“Dean!” Your shoulders immediately relaxed at the sound of another Pogues voice. You were sure his name was Noah, and that he was friends with the boys, but other than that, you didn’t really know him. You watched as Dean plastered a smile on his face and greeted his friend. Without warning, you slipped away from Dean and slipped through the crowd towards the bathroom.

Usually, a party like this is just what JJ needed, but his mood was much too sour to enjoy it. Not when you had shown up with Dean and disappeared into this run-down house on the Cut nearly an hour ago. He has tried desperately to shake you from his thoughts. But nothing has worked in the past couple of weeks, so he has spent this entire night pathetically sober and on edge.

John B and Pope had tried to include him in the conversation with other guys from the Cut, but he didn’t have the energy to pretend to be interested. So instead, he sat next to the fire along the group and continuously glanced back at the door as if somehow he could keep an eye on you that way.

Dean’s voice catches his attention and pulls him from his thoughts of you. Dean comes jogging down the steps carrying a beer and quickly finds an open seat amongst the guys. JJ ignores the urge to tell him his seat is taken; it feels too middle school.

“Where is she?” JJ asks, sounding terribly protective, but he can’t help it. He’s sat rigid in his seat, waiting for his cousin’s answer. He wouldn’t have left you alone at that party even for a second if he was with you.

“She wanted to spend some time with the girls.” Dean looks flatly at JJ, both boys growing frustrated with each other. Dean is becoming sick of JJ only acknowledging him when it has to do with you. He doesn’t want JJ’s thoughts to be of you at all. The tension between the two is glaringly apparent to the group, so Pope incessantly glances at the house door for about twenty minutes before JJ incessantly glancing at the house door finally pays off.

There you were.

Standing on the porch with tears streaming down your pretty cheeks and arms wrapped protectively around your stomach. JJ felt his stomach drop and the immediate desire to kill whoever made him feel like this. But it seems his cousin has the same desire because both boys stand up at the sight of you.

Dean is the first to step towards you, softly muttering your name. You don’t even glance in Dean’s direction. It isn’t until he repeats your name again, louder this time, that you finally look over at him.

JJ watches as you descend the steps, whip away a stray tear on your face, and stand a couple feet before the group of boys. You don’t take your eyes off Dean, and JJ prepares to watch Dean take you home and knows he will comfort you.

“I just wanna go home,” JJ doesn’t think he has ever heard you so broken up, and it makes him feel physically sick. “Can you please take me home?”

Dean immediately turns to grab his jacket that it tossed over one of the logs he was sitting on. “Of course, let me just-”

Then, you make eye contact with JJ, and the brief eye contact causes your eyes to tear up again. Without thinking, JJ jogs over and wraps you in his arms.

JJ has hugged you plenty of times, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt you hold him this tight. Your arms are tossed around his shoulders as his arms are looped around your waist. Dean turns, ready to take you home, and falters when he sees you wrapped in JJ’s arms.

“JJ, I’ve got her. She asked me to take her home.” Dean’s voice is flat, and you tense in JJ’s arms. Hoping to get a look at Dean, you pull away from JJ slightly so you can look over at him. While hugging JJ, both of you had shifted so JJ’s back was no longer to the group. Instead, Dean has a clear shot of both sides and how you and JJ are so intertwined. He feels sick watching you grip JJ so tightly.

“I was talking to JJ.” At this, JJ’s grip tightens around you as a possessive feeling strikes through him. He wants to be smug; rub it in Dean’s face that you chose him. But he would much rather get you home and figure out why you were so upset.

You turn your head, looking up at him, with his shirt clenched between your fists. Looking down at you, he can see the tears glistening in your eyes. “JJ, I want you to take me home.”

“I know, baby. Let’s go home.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and leads you in the direction of the Chateau. 

It wasn’t until you got to the Chateau that you finally let JJ know that happened, and he had been pacing around his bedroom ever since.

“I’m gonna kill him,” JJ practically grits out, his jaw so tense from anger.

“No, you’re not,” You sniffle as you stay wrapped up in JJ’s hoodie and sheets. The second you had reached his room, you climbed into his bed, you’re ultimate comfort place. There were so many times when you ended up in JJ’s bed, feeling wholly protected just by being next to him.

“Y/n, he acted like you were his. He didn’t even ask you! He was-fuck!” The bed squeaks as JJ tosses himself down at the bottom edge of the bed. His head is buried in his hands, and you can see the tension in his back. You slip out from beneath the covers and crawl towards him without saying anything. He tenses when he feels you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder, but then he shifts to hold you to him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with men in my family.”

“You don’t have to apologize; you’re the only Maybank man I care about.” JJ nearly melts at the kiss you place on his cheek.

“Y/n.”

“JJ.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if I had told you sooner.”

“Told me what sooner?”

“About my feelings for you.” Your heart feels like it has given out when you hear him say this.

“No.” Your voice is a whisper as you look up at him.

“No?” His voice is just as soft as yours.

“That isn’t fair to put on yourself; Dean did what he did because he’s a dick.”

“I should have told you that I’ve been in love with you for a long that I can’t even remember when it started. It feels like I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I’ve loved you so for so fucking long, and I never told you,” He pauses, tucking a stray hair behind your ear like he did earlier in the night.

“I never thought I’d have a shot with you, and then I saw you with Dean. God, Y/n, I wanted to kill him. He had everything I ever wanted,” A soft sigh leaves his lips, and you simply watch him, your stomach fluttering at his confession.

JJ, you sigh, “Everyone knew my feelings about you; I don’t know how you didn’t. Why do you think I was always the first to clean you up after a fight? I would always share the couch with you if I had to. Not like it was a problem for me. I invited you to stay at my house; when have I ever invited Pope or John B to stay in my bed? I’ve always liked you, J, and always will.”

He stared at you as you talked, and you moved closer to him, taking a chance, sitting in his lap, and interlocking your hands behind his neck. His hands quickly found your waist and held you in his lap.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” You whispered softly, too nervous to say the words too loud, worried you might scare him off despite his previous comments. He didn’t say anything at first, simply tugging you into his chest so you had your legs wrapped around his waist as you hugged him. He pulled back to look at you, and your stomach flipped when you saw how he looked at you.

As close as you and JJ always were as friends, you had never been this close as you stared at him. Your heart was racing to see him stare at you like he found you stunning; he had never looked at you like this before. If he had, you had never gotten to see it.

“J?”

“Yea?”

“Can you kiss me?” When his lips meant yours, it wasn’t rough, or fast-it was gentle and soft-like he wanted to take all his time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours, slipping his hands into your hair. Relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him. His lips were soft and slow against yours, making you melt into him. Of all the times you had pictured kissing him, it had been quick and heated. But as he laid you down and pressed gentle kisses to your lips and neck, you preferred this to your fantasies.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed all over your body, barely touching against your skin, but enough to leave goosebumps behind. When he reached your hips, he would give a gentle squeeze. Sitting up, he used an arm to bring you up with him. You had waited so long to kiss JJ; now that you were, you didn’t want it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs as you sat in his lap, leading the kiss.

“Arms up, baby,” He told you as he pulled your sweatshirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. This was your chance to admire his body’s dips and curves. There was never a time that you could admire him up close, and that you had, you never wanted to stop. You knew he was muscular from the countess times you had watched him surf and walk around shirtless, but getting to touch him this way was entirely different. Being alone meant you didn’t have to worry about your friends catching your longing looks; there was no John B to relentlessly tease you. Just you and JJ.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” He said as he slipped his fingers under your white bra straps and let them fall down your shoulders.

“Thank you, you’re pretty beautiful too,” Your voice teased as you threw your arms around his neck. Quickly, he leaned forward to kiss you, not wanting to waste another second without tasting you.

“Damn right,” He mumbled, making you giggle. You were about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when he stopped you.

“That’s my job from now on,” He shot you a cocky grin and pushed your hands away from your bra to do it himself. He reached one hand around you, and you felt your bra drop.

“One hand, baby,” He joked. You laughed loudly, remembering that JJ and John B had borrowed yours and Kiara’s bras years ago, hoping to learn to do it one-handed. They eventually did know after you and Kiara stepped in to teach them.

“Pure fucking talent,” You sarcastically answered him, but he wasn’t really listening anymore. He groaned when he saw your bare tits and perky nipples. Your mind blanked as you heard the noise that came from him. 

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Their back arched into his chest to give him better access. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning his hair wild from when you had your fingers through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs grew more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs; you were not used to having someone see you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart. 

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his shorts down. Oh fuck. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You had always wondered whether he would be big or small, and you weren’t surprised he was in the bigger size. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before he touched your chest, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“God baby, you’re soaked for me,” You could only answer with a whimper as he slipped his fingers over your clit, causing you to arch your back. He was slow as he began to circle your clit, adding fingers to pump in and out of you.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t if you asked him to go faster; he seemed pleased to take things slowly and gently.

“Your pussy tastes so good, it could eat you out for hours,” He mumbled against you, causing you to moan loudly. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as you continued licking and sucking your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm. Your legs began to shake, and you were momentarily embarrassed. It had been months since you were last touched, and without warning, JJ between your thighs was bringing you to your orgasm embarrassingly quick. Without warning, he pulled away from you, leaving you a little confused.

“Lay at the end of the bed,” You were still shaky, but you did as you were told and glanced up at him, kneeling at the foot of his bed. He kissed your lips before standing up, and you realized what he had in mind.

You watched as he grabbed his cock between his hand and guided it into your mouth. The moan that left his mouth as he felt your mouth had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Holy fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Desperation laced through his voice, making you feel entirely feral for him. You were willing to do anything that he told you to do.

His hands were in your hair as he created a makeshift ponytail to hold you in place as he fucked your mouth. Youhines were muffled b cock, and from the sounds that were leaving him, you could tell he was enjoying this. A quick peek up at him let you know just how good he was feeling. The flush on his cheeks and his furrowed eyebrows were your indicators.

You pulled away from him with a pop, leaving a trail of salvia attaching you to him, “I need you to fuck me; I’ve waited too long to do this.” 

Your voice sounded incredibly desperate as you begged him. He said nothing, just leaned down to kiss you before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his shorts before grabbing a condom from his wallet. You sent him a soft smile and laid your back against the pillows, waiting for him. He sat before you, then situated himself between your legs and used his arms to hold himself above you. He looked down at you, and you sent him a giggly smile.

“I love you, J,” You told him, causing him to gently lean down and kiss you.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips, sending butterflies throughout your stomach. 

He sat up, grabbing your thighs with both hands, moving your legs so that you could slip between them. Your knees were bent, and your legs were on either side of him as he brushed his fingers against your clit again.

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen,” His simple words caused a gasp to be pulled from you.

His cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you. At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. JJ quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Jesus Christ,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking good.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were desperately cried a pathetic, moaning as he quickly flipped you over and grabbed get enough of you.”

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But he was quick to flip you over and grab your hips, pulling you onto all fours. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze and placed a few kisses on your shoulder. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he ran his fingers down your spine. Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Fuck J, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making JJ grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, JJ! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to fucked rougher?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew the neighbors could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

His name and curses fell through your lips, and you got closer and closer to coming. You knew you would come quicker than you usually would since you had spent years fantasizing about JJ. You had spent countless nights getting off to the thought of getting to be with JJ, and if you knew him at all-he did too.

“Fuck JJ, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Fuck. Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” you knew you could let go with him. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“JJ! Fuck, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” that admission, your back arched as you felt your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to God none of your friends had decided to come back from the party.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him switching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby,” JJ mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

“God, I love you.” He kisses your head before standing up and heading into your bathroom. You hear him come back after a few minutes.

“Turn over, baby.” You turn to see him with a warm washcloth; he slowly moves your legs apart and cleans up the mess between them. Your heart melts as you watch him take care of you. Once he’s done, he tosses the rag and lays beside you; you move so that you’re lying against his chest, and he throws his blanket over the both of you.

“JJ?”

“Yea, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“Be fucking quiet; you’re gonna wake her up.” JJ snapped, sending a glare over at John B. It was nearly 9 am, and they were the only two awake, the rest of the group fast asleep after the party.

“I am being fucking quiet, dumbass.”

“I don’t need her finding out what happened this morning,” He grumbled, glancing down at his bruised and bloody knuckles. John B’s snort caught his attention, and he glanced up at his best friend, who was looking at his hand.

“Like that won’t give it away?”

“I’ll just say I got into it with some kooks.”

“You’re gonna lie to her?” John B sent him an unimpressed look.

“Jesus, John B! I don’t know what I’m gonna tell her yet.”

“Tell her the truth. That you beat the shit out of our cousin for her,” He shrugged like it was the most straightforward option. “Where is she anyway? Did you take her home?”

JJ faltered at that question, the memories of last night running through his head. He still needed to update John B that your friendship had been properly ruined. But he didn’t know what the two of you were now. Were you dating? Casually seeing each other for now? That was something that he should clear up soon.

“No, she’s uh-“His door creaked, and you were wrapped in his sheets. Your hair was a mess, a couple of marks littered your neck, and your eyes were squinted with sleep.

“J?” You called quietly, and JJ nearly melted. How did he get so lucky? How did this angel have feelings for him? “Can you come back? I miss you.”

You must have been delirious with sleep and not have even noticed John B because there was no way you would’ve felt comfortable looking and speaking this vulnerably in front of him any other time.

“Yea, baby. I’ll be there.” You sent him a sleepy smile and closed the door. JJ nearly jumped up from his spot to get to you.

“Baby?” John B let out, sounding incredibly smug and wearing a grin. “Looks like you finally told her.”

JJ didn’t say anything; he just flipped him off with a smug smile as he closed the door to his bedroom and slipped into bed with you.

“Hi,” He quietly greeted as he settled into his pillow facing you.

“Why’d you leave?” Your voice was laced with sleep as you scooted closer to him.

“I went and saw Dean,” He felt you tense in his arms, and for a second, he wondered if he had made the wrong decision by telling you. He would never regret punching his cousin for the way he treated you.

“J, what did you do?”

“I punched him, and I know you aren’t a fan of that, but-“His words were cut off by pressing your lips to his.

“Thank you, he deserved it,” You quietly mumbled before snuggling back into his chest.

JJ had never loved you more.

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