Tumgik
#help me make stupid purchases!!
Text
Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.
Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.
He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.
So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.
Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”
You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”
When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.
“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.
Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”
You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”
“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.
Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.
Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”
Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.
And you fucking loved it.
11K notes · View notes
lovelyghst · 4 months
Text
ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—
he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.
he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.
and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.
you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.
he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.
“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”
you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.
wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:
“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”
he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.
“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”
3K notes · View notes
yoyokalicent · 3 months
Text
soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?
warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.
a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)
。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆
i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house
the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.
"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"
his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."
"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.
his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.
felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.
"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.
"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"
it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.
after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.
"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.
"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."
the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.
"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.
"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"
"you'll stay with me, princess."
i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"
the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.
he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"
your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.
you're his best friend for goodness sake.
"fi?"
fuck the thinks, "princess."
"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.
"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"
you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.
his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.
once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.
"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.
before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.
"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.
his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.
"sorry bout that, princess."
"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.
"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.
"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."
feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck
felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.
he loved it, right now, he longed for it.
farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.
stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.
"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?
"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.
but, not tonight.
"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.
"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.
the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.
he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.
he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.
the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.
just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.
your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"
"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.
"what the fuck, felix?"
"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.
"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.
you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"
"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.
"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"
you cut him off, "felix."
"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"
you cut him off again, "felix."
"i just-"
"you what, felix?"
"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.
you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."
"can't have them seeing what's mine."
your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"
"you're mine princess, finally."
2K notes · View notes
moonbeamwritings · 5 months
Text
"I hate you.”
The statement comes as Satoru leans against your door frame, your hand pressed to his shoulder as you try to get him to leave — to be on time for his train, for anything, just this once. It's a losing battle, trying to kick the lanky, lovesick sorcerer out of your apartment. He hovers in your doorway and lures you in with charming smirks and sweet little kisses. Just one more, he promises, all cheshire grinned and rosy cheeked, one more and then he'll finally go. And then one more turns into two turns into three.
“Oh yeah?”
You poise your hands on your hips. “Yeah.”
Without wasting a second, he takes your chin between his fingers, thumb ghosting along your bottom lip. His other hand curls around your waist. "Care to explain why?"
“You just-” You scoff, scrunching your nose in frustration, and when Satoru can’t stop the gooey smile from growing on his face, you rush to take his face into your palms, the pads of your thumbs resting in the curve of his dimples. “These. I hate these.”
“What?” A chuckle forces its way from Satoru’s throat, clipping his words as his skin warms. His hand abandons your chin in favor of finding purchase around your wrist, his thumb skimming your pulse point as it goes. “Use your words, angel.”
You groan, eyes rolling. “Your stupid smile and your stupid dimples. I hate them and I hate you. I just wanna-” And then, as if a switch suddenly flips, your gentle touch morphs into a pinch and then a squeeze, and suddenly Satoru’s cheeks are positively squished. 
“Whe- Hey. Ow, o- Baby-”
It’s not your fault, you think. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, so damn near perfect it makes your knees weak. You’re not responsible for any acts of violent cute aggression, honest. And besides, if his little huffs and giggles are anything to go by, Satoru loves the attention – as usual.
"You–" you shake his head in your hold like a dog attacks a chew toy, "drive me crazy."
With bright eyes and puckered lips, Satoru asserts, "But you love me."
You let out an exaggerated sigh, like admitting what you both already know to be true is such a bother, but your hold on his cheeks softens just as your frustration melts into a shy smile. "I do."
Satoru's nose brushes yours and you can feel him press a smirk against your lips, his voice just above a whisper as he teases, "I knew it."
He kisses you then, stealing the breath from your lungs just as he did before this whole back and forth began. And when he pulls away, you can't help but remind him, "You're gonna miss your train."
Satoru guides you back into your apartment, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He pulls you close again. "I'll catch the next one."
1K notes · View notes
bluessmutifyplaylist · 5 months
Note
Female reader and Leona Kingscholar, heat and breed please!
Warnings: Leona in a rut, oral (f! receiving), biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick lion ig?, always have your partner’s consent just like Leona has yours, creampie
Tumblr media
Leona Kingscholar
Tumblr media
When this man goes into his rut, he is an insatiable beast. It’s not even that he actually wants kids, but the thought of filling you up made him so hard that he couldn’t help himself but keep you full of his cum.
It was a mistake, really, walking into his room because you were so worried about him. Actually, a lot of Savanaclaw was on lockdown, and you were worried about your boyfriend. A few of the students who were still out and about warned you about going into the dormitory, let alone Leona’s room, but that made you even more concerned.
Once you opened the door, you heard the lion in question groaning. You called out his name, worried that he might be in some sort of pain. 
“Y/N, I need you to leave… now,” he growled.
“What’s wrong, Leona? Your dorm is on lockdown-”
You were cut off by him, because you blinked and suddenly you were pinned to the now-closed door.
“I said that you need to leave.” You expected him to be angry, but instead he had a look of desperation. He was pleading with you. You could feel the intense heat with how close he was. His hair was more disheveled than usual, a telltale sign that something was wrong.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” You insisted. He bore his teeth, his canines showing. You were starting to get a bit scared before he pushed off of you. “Leona?”
“Some of the beastmen in the dorm are going into their ruts. Did you walk all the way over here? In the midst of all this?! Where all these guys can smell you?!!!” His mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could you be this stupid? How could you come here, to a place with a bunch of guys going through this??
“You weren’t responding to my texts or calls, and I was getting worried!” This guy must have purchased his audacity because any girlfriend would be understandably worried when their boyfriend wasn’t responding.
He went quiet for a few moments. He was looking away from you, and you were worried that something was truly wrong. But, in the light, you saw a sheen of sweat on his face and you saw that his face was tinged with red. He was panting. You also noticed the not-very-subtle bulge in his pants.
Oh. Oh shit.
Now is when you process his words. The entire dorm was on lockdown because they are in their rutting seasons…
A certain familiar wetness made itself known between your legs, and Leona’s pupils dilated at smelling your arousal. What have you gotten yourself into? And why were you excited to find out?
In a matter of seconds, you could feel passionate kisses trailing up and down your neck, and you were powerless against it. The lion that you had called your boyfriend up to this point was nowhere to be found, and he had gone quite feral. However, he was still a gentleman.
“Y/N, this is your last chance to leave. If you stay, I won’t be able to control myself.” Leona managed to pull away for a few seconds to utter those words right next to your ear, and you felt your stomach flutter.
“Good, because I don’t want you to control yourself.” Was all you said, and you were hoisted up into the air, pinned to the door once again. You wrapped your legs around his torso to make sure you didn’t slip as you both began to make out. 
The beastman pulled away first, making sure to bite your bottom lip. However, the space wasn’t open for very long. It was just enough time to take you from the door to his bed. If he was going to make you his mat, he wanted to do it properly. Wait… mating? When did that come into play??
Doesn’t matter because he places his hands on the inside of your thighs a bit to separate them so he could slide your shorts and panties off easier. The smell emanating from the heat between your legs was heavenly.
Leona found himself quickly climbing off so that he could unbuckle his belt and take off his pants and boxers, revealing a length you weren’t sure you could handle. He saw your eyes widened, and so he crawled between your legs and started licking at your exposed folds.
His tongue had a bit of a rougher texture, not quite like a cat, but not quite like a human. It was something in-between, and it worked for your benefit. The sensation had you writhing and squirming in pleasure… that was, until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders.
“You’re not going anywhere, herbivore,” he mumbled straight into your pussy before going back to eating you out. 
Even though this was supposed to be to prepare you for his cock, this was also for his pleasure. Being surrounded by your smell and getting to taste your juices was all he could ever ask for. He left hickies and bite marks on your thighs as well. His canines drew blood on one of the marks, and he licked it up which made you whimper.
When he deemed you wet enough, he climbed up and lined his tip up with your entrance.
“It’s going to hurt, and you can tell me to stop whenever you want. If I don’t, slap me or some shit. I don’t want to do anything without your consent,” you nodded at his words, but he shook his head. “I need words, Y/n.”
“Please, Leona! I want you in me!” You moaned, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. That’s when the last shred of sanity was barely hanging on.
He slowly entered you, giving you time to adjust to his size. You winced in pain, and once he was fully inside, he stopped. Your walls were squeezing the life out of him, and a groan made its way from out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower not to just rail you into oblivion.
After a few moments, he started slowly pulling back out, and the feeling was unlike anything else. He thrust his cock back in, and your eyes rolled back. Leona took this as an okay to start moving quicker. Your pussy squeezed him so hard, every time he pulled out it was like a magnet, calling for him to go back in. 
The coil in your belly unraveled not too far into your session with him. You soaked his cock in your juices, and he let out a deep, sexy growl before speeding up even more. Your overstimulated cunt was weeping and begging for more, and she got what she asked for. 
“Where do you want my cum, herbivore?” He was nearing his own release, and he looked into your eyes.
“Inside… Inside, please!” You mewled. You locked your legs around him, locking him in place.
Not too long after, you felt an explosion of warmth inside of you, and Leona leaned into your neck, biting into it and drawing even more blood. His tongue gently ran over it to clean it up, and he placed kisses along it as well.
He tried to pull back and admire his work, wanting to see you in your entirety. However, your legs were not letting go. Where you both remained connected, your juices were mixing with another, and some were getting on the sheets as well. Not that the Housewarden minded; it would remind him of the day he got to claim you as his own.
Your walls began squeezing him again, also not wanting to let go of him. Even though it hasn’t even been a full 5 minutes since you both came, he was hard again and you were aroused again.
“If we go again, herbivore, I might knock you up. Shit, I might have already. Do you want that?” He leaned more towards your ear, whispering. “Do you want to be filled with my cubs?”
And with that, you both fucked in every. possible. position. for the entire week he was in rut. You barely caught a break, and you were often on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.
2K notes · View notes
foone · 9 months
Text
One of my favorite things about Tumblr is the complete lack of brand presence as support.
Because yeah we had Dennys for a while which is whatever, but there are no bots scanning Tumblr for a mention of their products so they can show up in the replies to try and help.
Like back when Twitter was a thing, you couldn't post "man my new bank of america card is good for everything but MAKING PURCHASES, stupid broken bullcarp" without a reply showing up in a few minutes from @ bofa-official being all "I'm sorry you're having a problem with your Bank of America® Personal Platinum Visa Credit Line™ card. Can you send me a direct message so I can help you resolve it? NK"
And that shit never happens here. Thank fuck.
2K notes · View notes
nohoney · 10 months
Text
there’s knocking at bakugou’s front door that he assumes is from you, probably too drunk from your girls night out to get your house keys out from your purse. imagine to his surprise when he opens the front door and he sees three of your girlfriends carrying you together while the fourth one was the one who knocked on his door and you’re knocked out.
“hey bakugou, (name) is home safe and sound!”
he’s gotta hand it to your friends, they’re good ones for carrying you all the way up to the front door.
“thanks, you can give her here. i got her.” bakugou offers up his arms for your friends to relieve them of carrying you.
“no we can take her in, we just wanna kiss her goodnight.”
god the amount of affection you and your friends have for one another once you’re all wasted is something else. but bakugou has long gotten used to it too so he steps aside to let your friend group in. even as your head lolls, one of them carefully readjusts so that your head doesn’t hang at an awkward angle. it sort of reminds bakugou of the one time sero had to carry kaminari over his shoulder after getting too wasted at a house party.
you’re laid down on the big couch you and him purchased together recently, all of them gathered around you and making sure that you’re comfortable. it must be some sort of intuition you have to know that your girls are about to leave that you suddenly open your eyes, still pretty drunk, and you open your arms for your girls. bakugou watches as you and your friend group drunkenly voice your love for one another, smirking a little when one kisses you on your mouth and the other one playfully grabs at your tit with a compliment of how hot you looked tonight.
“bakugou, this is our girl okay? you better take care of her!”
“yeah katsuki!” you join in on hanging up on him, “if you do some stupid shit, they’re gonna get you!”
oh he has no doubt about it; one of the girls in your group is somewhat notorious for petty revenge and even he would not be up for that.
bakugou bids your girlfriends good night, watching from the front door as they all gather into their car. he waves them off as they drive away, the friend that knocked on his door being the designated driver to take the others home. he shuts off the porch light and locks his front door, already knowing the drill of what you want when you’re this drunk at this hour.
“tsuki, i’m hungry and i want-“
“macaroni and cheese with fries. i know baby.” bakugou finishes your sentence, kneeling down to take off your high heels first and then holds the palm of his hand up, watching as you carefully peel off your fake eyelashes and you place them in his hand. “you gonna clean these or toss them?”
“toss.”
into the trash your lashes go and bakugou brings out the boxed macaroni and heats up the air fryer. you go into the bathroom where your makeup remover and all your skincare is already laid out for you, taking in a breath as you gather all two brain cells you have left to clean your face and at least do a body rinse in the shower.
food is ready by the time you exit the bathroom but you haven’t sobered up quite yet. while you eat your usual drunk-past-midnight meal bakugou comments, “i like your friends.”
“yeah, they’re great aren’t they?” you agree with a nod before munching on a crinkle fry. “they like you too. they say i should marry you.”
“really?” bakugou chuckles, “and here i am thinkin’ that my girl is gonna leave me to elope with her girlfriends instead.”
“they’re gonna be my bridesmaids when we get married.”
your words bring a fuzzy, sentimental feeling bloom in his chest. he knows that you’re drunk still and you possibly won’t remember this conversation, but he wants to hear more of what you have to say. “is that so? you talked about our wedding already?”
in drunken detail and while eating your food at the same time, you go over how each of your girlfriends will help support you in planning your supposed future union with bakugou. he listens, not bothering to hide the smile on his face as you go on and on. you talk more about how your friends will be involved rather than you and him but bakugou likes it. he likes how your friends like him and that they’re the most supportive group of girls he’s ever seen.
“you’re gonna wear a orange tie, mmkay? and we’re gonna have a mango cake!” you start to go off about what kind of food will be served at the wedding as bakugou cleans up the plates before you abruptly declare, “katsuki, you’re the only guy my friends like. the only one so don’t fuck this up, okay?”
“i won’t sweetheart, not with your gals ready to hide my body if i break your heart.”
you don’t remember the conversation the next morning when you wake up with a pounding hangover. but bakugou does. he remembers it as he gazes at you with a drink hand, wearing the orange tie you told him to wear and little bites of mango cake having already been fed to him by you. he watches how you hug your bridesmaids, your best friends, the girls who carried you home when you got too drunk and supported your relationship with him.
bakugou remembers how he waved off the girls that night as they drove back to their houses, and now they’re the ones waving you off as you and bakugou get into your car together to head to the airport for the honeymoon.
“you know my girls told me that i should marry you?”
bakugou plays dumb to the question, just only to hear the story from you again how he earned the seal of approval from your closest friends. he owes a mountain of gratitude to them because you and him probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.
they were the ones who told you to go up to him after all.
2K notes · View notes
sickeninglyshoujo · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: continually obsessed w/ cod dads, here's price
part 1: simon here
part 3: soap here
part 4: gaz here
masterlist here
warnings: pregnancy
word count: 1.7k
buy me a ko-fi
Tumblr media
Price was afraid to have babies with you because of the age difference and you rolled your eyes every time he talked about being an old man and how a pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be dating him much less trying to get knocked up by someone his age. As if he’d let you even entertain the thought of leaving him for a young buck who couldn’t spoil you like you deserved.
Throughout your pregnancy he treated you like fine China, afraid he’d say the wrong thing and make you cry. He’s heard about women’s hormones during pregnancy even as you remained rock solid, rolling your eyes when he’d ‘yes dear’ you.
You tried to kick him out of the bathroom when morning sickness hit and he refused. Instead sitting on the tub next to you, petting your back as you leaned into the toilet and tried to soothe you, telling you how strong you were and how beautiful you were carrying his baby even with sick bubbling up your throat at the slightest movement “I thought morning sickness was only supposed to be in the morning,” you moaned with your forehead pressed against the cool floor tile. “It’’s a misnomer, love,” John said, removing himself from his perch on the tub to wet a cool washcloth and wipe down your face.
He wishes this phase was over, hates seeing you in pain like this.
That changes once the baby’s born then he’s ready to do it all over again. He didn’t know how attached he’s gotten to helping you do the things you couldn’t because of your belly  like putting on your shoes (looking up at your belly reverently the entire time before planting a kiss on it) for you and helping you pick things off the floor that your clumsy fingers dropped. He grew a particular affection for helping you rub shea butter and vitamin E oil over your rapidly appearing stretch marks.
Price insists on building the nursery furniture without reading the directions, “Know what I’m doin’ woman,” and to your chagrin he was right. Managed everything without a set of directions perched on his knee and instead chucked them to the side with the box.
The first thing he built was the fancy rocking chair he bought for you, insisting you don’t help him with anything “At least let me hold the screws John, I feel stupid just sitting here!”
To him, peace is this. This is what so many long nights holed up in some shithole on a mission have led to. Him sitting on the floor at your feet, building a life together while oldies play on the record player in the next room. He’s so overwhelmed in the moment he can’t help but pull your hand to his lips and kiss it and laughs at you when you ask him what’s wrong
“It’s all right, is the thing, love.”
When you get the first ultrasound, he stops at the store on the way home and purchased a picture frame (insisting you stay in the car and not overexert yourself, he’ll just be a moment, love). The next day he’s on base it now proudly sits facing him next to the photo of him and you vacationing in London with your faces squeezed together in the frame, selfie-style.
Tells anyone who enters his office about you and how far along you are, whether they ask or not, comparing the baby to different sized fruits, which parts were developing that week.
“She’s the size of a lime now, tiny little thing.”
“Can you imagine that she’s growing fingernails in my bird’s belly!”
Absolutely rubbed your swollen ankles in the evenings when he got home from work, peppering gentle kisses on them when he switched feet
Loved your pregnancy brain fog and would kiss your nose any time he got to remind you about something. He became the keeper of your calendar, scheduling your appointments and taking you to them.
When you go into labor, he’s on base in a meeting with some high-brass in a meeting on a highly classified matter. He’s not even allowed to bring his phone into the room. Instead having to turn it off and lock it in a safe prior to entering even with a baby on the way. He was aware this might happen and had instructed you on the line of succession.
“If you can’t get ahold of me, leave me a message lovie, then go down the line. Simon’s second-in–command-”
“Then Kyle, then Johnny, I know, John, you’ve drilled it into my head,” You soothe him, petting the creases he’s worn between his eyebrows, “It’ll be just fine, women have been doing it for thousands of years.”
“I’ll be there, I promise lovie,” He kisses your palm
You leave the message on John’s voicemail, a curt, “It’s time John, once I hang-up I’m dialing Simon, just like we practiced.”
Simon answers on the third ring, “Missus?” His rumbly voice cuts across the line.
“It’s time Simon and John’s still in the meeting since his phone is turned off.”
“Copy.”
The line goes dead leaving you blinking at the Call Ended screen.
You decide that Simon is aware of the drastic nature of the matter and instead busy yourself, you lug the baby bag and your purse to the floor next to the door and go through the checklist John had created in the front pocket: Stove off, windows shut and locked, televisions off…It wasn’t until Simon was letting himself into your front door that the list was likely a distraction from your husband to stop you from leaving on your own until Simon arrived.
Simon collects you with the cool confidence of a Lieutenant in the special forces.
No, don’t worry about the bags or the door, he’s got it, just get yourself into the car.
You try John’s number over and over on the way to the hospital, narrating Simon’s driving, “John, I’m going to have words with you when this is over, I cannot believe you let your pregnant wife in a car with what has to be the worst driver in all of Manchester!”
Before you know it, you’re being rushed into the hospital with Ghost snapping at the nurse at the desk for a wheelchair, NOW! He barks out orders in true military fashion leaving your head buried in your hands as you’re being escorted to the maternity ward.
“Now don’t worry, Sir, your wife is in excellent hands,” one of the nurses addresses Simon, all muscle pushing you in the wheelchair, unblinking and matching their pace.
“He’s not-” You try and interject.
“She better be,” Simon cuts you off, “And the labor will be handled with the utmost care or someone will have to answer to me personally.”
The contractions have started coming back to back and you’re pacing the hospital room, sucking on ice chips fed to you by a patient Simon.
Kyle and Johnny have also arrived and join him in his vigil, somehow maneuvering their way through the “Father and family only” policy the hospital has.
“She was adopted,” You later find out Kyle deadpanned at the security trying to stop him from entering the room, “Can’t you see the family resemblance?”
True to his word, John is there.
He’s rushed into the room, frazzled and running his hand over his beard, eyes darting until he finds you, “Hey sweet girl, I’m here, I’m here,” pointedly ignoring the nurse trying to count out the men in the room
(“Who are these men to you again miss?”)
(“I’m the father,” Gaz informs, flipping through a magazine to pass the time between bursts of activity with contractions.)
You moan out John’s name slapping at his chest weekly when he gathers you up into his arms and hugs you, “I’m mad at you John!”
“Don’t be mad, love, I made it just like I promised,” He tries to soothe you, smoothing his hands over your disheveled hair. “Not about being late, about getting me pregnant!” “It’s a bit late for that now, love,” He does his best to hide the smile twitching into place under his mustache. 
The boys remain in the room for the entire labor, John holding one hand and the other men trading off when your grip became too strong (“Dinnae know the lass could break my bones with just one hand,” Johnny moans shaking out his aching appendage.)
When the baby finally arrives, the doctor again looks around at the men in the room, “Would…Dad like to hold her?”
John finally extracts himself from your bruising grip to hold your daughter, eyes twinkling with joy at seeing the bundle covered in blood and viscera. Such a difference from every other time he’d been covered in the blood, these are stains he’ll gladly wear.
#1 baby wearer captain price
“I hardly get to hug you anymore because she’s always strapped to you!”
Price’s eyebrows go up at that, “Are you jealous, love?
 “Not jealous, but I miss my husband's arms around me!” When you say that with a slight pout in your voice, Price is quick to arrange Uncle Soap and Gaz so he can wine and dine you like old times. 
You make sure to wag your finger enough at the boys and remind them they’re there to babysit, not throw a rager and rile up the baby, even though you know your warnings are falling onto deaf ears. You wholeheartedly expect to return home to a cranky and overtired baby and two military men.
“Can’t neglect either of my girls” he’d mutter into your hair after pulling you close after dinner, holding you to his chest tightly in the middle of the sidewalk 
“You never do, John, you’re the best man I could’ve hoped for,” You muttered into his chest, “Never did I think I’d get someone so in love with me and our child.”
Will regularly fall asleep with the baby curled on his chest, boonie hat pulled down over his eyes, with your daughter also lulled to sleep by his steady breaths. You can’t help but take a photo every time it happens, so smitten with how your husband enjoys his quiet days on leave.
You can’t help but send the photo to the boys, having the group chat with them immediately blown up with emojis sent by Soap, laughing at the Captain’s prone form.
As a joke the photo ends up framed on Price’s desk, next to the ultrasound. Price actually enjoys having it to remind him of the peace he has waiting at home and the joke is ruined when the photo remains in it’s place of honor.
679 notes · View notes
heylinfanclub · 2 years
Text
should I buy weed
0 notes
hitomisuzuya · 2 months
Note
UOOUUGHHH seggs
Needy whiny scara I just need him whiney and being a boyfailure crying and sobbing as he keeps clinging onto us while we ride him before a meeting begins because he was being such a brat hnnngg stupid pathetic boyfailure fatui harbinger 😭
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Whiny, needy Scara. Riding. Scara is kind of a switch.
Writing this is making me feel better. I feel like absolute shit and I am feeling pretty down at the moment.
Scaramouche couldn't believe the state he'd been reduced to. His hands clinging and groping at your hips and waist, teary eyes flicking down over and over again to watch the white ring form on his cock while you rode him.
Each time his cock sank up inside of you, pulsing as it stretched your walls apart nearly him fall limp in his chair, his fingers having to renew his grip. He bit his lip to swallow a whimper as he bucked his hips hips into yours.
"You know, Scara," You began, your lips parting in a gasp of pleasure as his cock kissed into your sweet spot, it took a moment for you to compose yourself.
Scaramouche bit his lip to swallow a whimper. You'd stopped bouncing on his cock, and it was aching for you to move again. "Y-You won't get away with this," He said shakily, turning his cheek into your hand as you caressed his cheek.
You gave a smooth, firm roll of your hips, ignoring his threat. "You might get a long with everyone better if you weren't such a petulant brat all the time," You skimmed your thumb over a tear that trickled from his eyes, slowly rolling your hips down, making the mighty Harbinger underneath you crumble more.
He wanted to tell you to shut your mouth, but the only thing that came out was loud, husky moans as you suddenly resumed your pace.
Scaramouche needed to do something to help ground himself, his cock sinking up into your pussy just felt too good. One of his hands grasped one of your breasts, squeezing before his fingers found your nipple to pinch and roll.
The sensation of your nipple hardening between the pads of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure to your clit, your pace quickening on his cock in response to the pleasure. You may have been the one making him helpless in the wake of pleasure, but you were also struggling not to fall apart on his cock.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Scaramouche whined, replacing his fingers on your nipple with his mouth. He was desperately holding onto your hips, anything to make you keep bouncing. "I won't apologize," His teary eyes glared up at you.
Your thighs smacked against his for a few moments longer before you stopped all movement again. You couldn't help but smile a little as Scaramouche whimpered again. "Oh, you won't? That's a shame," You slowly moved up and down on his cock, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, "You were just about to cum. Maybe you won't before this meeting."
Your threat made his eyes snap open. You'd been right. He had been about to cum, and for some reason, he couldn't ignore the stronger ache in his cock as you attempted to put him in his place. He really didn't mind every now and then.
His hands scrambled to find purchase on your hips, squeezing as he started bouncing you on his cock. Your eyes widened, you didn't expect him to suddenly take control like that.
Scaramouche couldn't stop moaning and whining from the intense, mind numbing pleasure. His legs shook, feeling a surge of dominance as the sounds of your moans sounded in his ears.
Now he was on a somewhat even playing field, his body shaking in pleasure as your cunt sucked his cock in. He let out a long, content sigh, enjoying the way you were drooling and crying out for him as you suddenly creamed on his cock.
He dropped his head into your neck, a long whimper tearing his throat as his cock pulsed and ribboned cum inside of you. His grip on your hips loosened gradually, riding out his high until your hips came to a stop.
"No," Scaramouche whimpered when you started to dismount him. He clutched onto your hips to keep you on his cock, nuzzling his face into your neck, "one more. Please," He needed to feel you cum on his cock again.
810 notes · View notes
pearlywritings · 10 months
Text
Courted by a... Hero?
Tumblr media
synopsis: Diluc has feelings for you, but is under the impression that you do not reciprocate - his courting attempts show as much. But he comes to find out, that you are at ease around his alter ago... 
It won’t hurt to try and court you as the Darknight Hero. Right?
pairing: Diluc x fem!reader
tw: fluff, pining, courting, seemingly unreciprocated feelings, Darknight Hero!Diluc
word count: 3k words
a/n: this was suggested by a lovely anon~
Tumblr media
Diluc Ragnvindr is enamored with you.
Diluc Ragnvindr thinks he is not that subtle about his affections. But it seems that he actually is, because otherwise the Master of the Dawn Winery does not understand how you manage to miss all the clues, all the longing gazes, all the small compliments and acts he does for you in attempts to hint that he'd like to court you.
Аpparently the longing in his eyes is lost in his regular stoic and a bit mournful expression, small compliments are so polite that it's not hard to mistake them for his gentlemanly antics, and his other actions are just a thread away from acts of service and help, which, given his сhivalry nature, do not stand out too.
Diluc doesn't get many opportunities to see you, since you do not visit the tavern often, but he tries so hard to make the meetings more numerous. An invitation to play cards at the Cat's Tail here and there, an insistence to walk you home, an offer to accompany you through the market as you go grocery shopping, always coming with an excuse of checking on the goods to tell Elzer later what purchases they should change for the Winery and its workers. Adelinde always smiles at him knowingly whenever some new dishes are added to his menu.
He is trying to show his affections to you, he really does, but he is too dense for that to come out exactly as he pictured it in his head. However, when you smile at him softly, accepting his offers, when you vent a little to him about a stupid coworker, when you stop at the Good Hunter to have supper with him - he thinks that the long process is worth it.
It's a great surprise, but the first time he gets an opportunity to hold you close is not a part of you dating him. No, your relationship is far from that, and his persona is hidden under the mask and a hooded cape, as he carries you bridal style. He is well aware of you staring up at him, but he can't make himself lower his gaze and meet with yours. He is just bringing you to a safe place after you twisted your ankle on a late evening run to catch a cat for your neighbor - a sweet old woman, whose pet seems to love escaping on an almost daily basis.
It's so hard to believe that he managed to be in the right place, at the right time, yet he chides himself for not arriving earlier - he could've caught you, preventing you from injuring yourself and falling. 
But it is such a quiet night… Maybe that's why he heard your painful yelp from two blocks away, rushing to help whoever got themselves in danger, and finding you sitting on the pavement and rubbing your leg.
"So… Mister Darknight Hero," he nearly groans at the name people gave him. He is intrigued by your lack of fear though, or at least worry, about some stranger picking you up and carrying you somewhere. The relaxed ring of arms wrapped around his neck only further proves it.
"Yes?" Diluc makes his voice gruff and low, still avoiding eye contact.
"Where are you taking me?" You sound curious, and the redhead can't help, but feel a bit aggravated - shouldn't you be concerned? Of course he is not taking you home - it'd be both creepy if a stranger knew your address and stupid, since your leg needs proper examination and treatment. Though still, you are so willingly accepting the masked man's help and entrust your fate in his arms fully, that it makes sarcasm evident in his words.
"On a late night date," he huffs with a slight roll of his eyes, letting his boldness out - something he can't allow himself to do often in the broad daylight as Diluc Ragnvindr.
"Oh really?" There is a hint of amusement in your tone, like you are enjoying his admission. "We've just met and you are bringing me on a date already? My, aren't you a forward man, Mister Hero. And where is this amazing place that's open so late? The tavern?"
"The hospital," Diluc does not realize it, but his cheeks are tinted pink, even if his voice remains inexpressive. However, he easily notices how relaxed you are in his hold, in his presence - even shooting teasing comments back at him and calling a date, well, a date. That's like more progress than he's had in the past month trying to court you.
Can it be… that he must change his approach? You, of course, can be attracted to completely different qualities in a man, and he should've taken it into consideration. Maybe this whole time he's been doing everything wrong.
Yet it’s too early to jump to conclusions, even if the winery owner slowly but surely grows desperate. To avoid false assumptions he decides to give it a proper thought tomorrow, after he visits you to check on your condition, bare of his alter ego.
As the morning comes and the sun gets brighter, Diluc is patiently waiting for the afternoon to see you. Half a day is enough for him to ‘receive the news’ about your condition however, but those several hours are excruciating. Are you well? Does your ankle hurt? Are you hungry? Maybe he should bring you food from Good Hunter… Are you thinking of him? Or…of tonight?
These thoughts are eating at his consciousness and when the midday eventually comes, the poor man looks exhausted. Lisa, whom he bumps into near the Alchemy stand, comments on it accordingly. Oh, but how fortunate it is, that she is the one to tell him about the events of last night and your current whereabouts.
“She looked ecstatic though,” the woman smiles, hands crossed and an intricate bell chiming on the tip of her large hat as she walks beside Diluc. “You should’ve seen that look on her face when she was telling me about the hero who saved her… Oh, but you will, won’t you? I am guessing you are going to pay her a visit.”
“You are correct,” the redhead nods, eyes trained on the today’s menu of the restaurant, as they get closer. “Right after I buy her some lunch.”
“A bouquet too, perhaps,” the smile turns teasing, emerald eyes glinting with knowledge. “I wonder when…” she pauses, but then decides against speaking what’s on her mind, shaking her head. “No matter. Good luck, Diluc.”
Luck? It’s such an abstract thing, something the wine tycoon doesn’t want in his life. If he needs something - he’d forge it with his own two hands, the ones that are currently occupied with a steaming meal and fresh flowers as he steps inside your chamber.
You are so lovely. Crimson eyes take in your resting form, basking in the sunlight from an open window. Warm rays kiss your cheeks and nose, falling right on the pages of a book he is sure Lisa has brought you. Tranquility suits you like the best of dresses and for a moment he gets lost in a scene before him, honored to be a part of it. 
That is until you lift your gaze and look at him and this time it’s your smile that makes the noble man go weak.
“Diluc! Hi,” your voice is so soft, bursting with excitement, which is also evident in how quickly you shut your book and put it away. This is a signal for the redhead to finally move closer and he eagerly takes this chance.
“I heard about what happened to you,” he offers you flowers and you gasp - a beautiful sound that touches the deepest strings of his soul. “I wanted to make you feel better. Also, I brought lunch.”
“Diluc…” There is appreciation in your tone, one, that strokes his ego. “You really didn’t have to, but I won’t decline the offer. Not to offend anyone,” you lower your voice, “but the food here is terrible.”
And he laughs. That’s a deep marvelous sound, that comes all the way from the confines of his chest, reserved for you only. Your giggles compliment it so perfectly, and when you hide behind the flowers, with only your eyes on display, shining and crinkling from joy - he falls in love even harder.
It almost feels like a date his nightly persona promised to take you on - flowers, delicious meal, his undivided attention… And even though it is not all that different from all the other times you spent together, this one feels far more special.
“So… You say you were saved by the Darknight Hero?” This question has been dancing on the tip of his tongue long before you even started to retell him the story of tonight. You nod vigorously, chewing on the most delicious chicken you’ve ever had.
“Mhm. And Archons, when I say this man is bold, he is bold.”
Your tone and the way your eyes just glinted… Can he assume you love such a character more? Should he…pursue you under the disguise of your savior?
He sure can try.
And try he does. Every night you would receive a masked visitor in your window. Every day Diluc would also come, to bring you fresh flowers, glorious meals and with hopes to know what you think of his other occupation. The Darknight Hero turned out to be charming. Diluc Ragnvindr is charming too, but it’s a different kind of charming - secure, understanding, reliable, loyal. While his alter-ego is mysterious, brooding, flirting and bold.
You seem to enjoy the latter. Why else would you wait for him, refusing to sleep, knowing that the Darknight Hero would come? Why would your eyes remain soft when gazing at an already not a stranger, yet not an acquaintance still? Why would you entertain his jokes and ask to tell you about what he does for Mondstadt? Watching him perch on the windowsill, chin resting on your fisted hands and purest interest written all over your face...
He was so right to ask the staff to move you to a different room with a bed close to the window. Doesn't matter he had to climb to the third floor, it's all in the name of love, however cheezy it sounds.
Only one question remains - how should he bring up the courting? Every normal woman would freak out if a man she barely knows (come on, even his face and voice are veiled) asked her out. Soon you'll be discharged, and climbing into your apartment's window is inappropriate too. The night strolls? No, he can't rob you of more sleep than he already selfishly does. But what should he do…
You seem to like it though, so there is absolutely no reason to complain.
You notice his silence. Curiosity replaces all other senses, just as it has been for all these nights you’ve spent with the man, and you cock your head to the left shoulder, observing, trying to guess what's behind the wall of his mind.
"What got you thinking so hard, Mr Hero?" At least you dropped using the whole title, which he is forever grateful for. "You look like someone who's trying to solve an extremely difficult case. Mind sharing? Maybe I can help."
Archons, you are so-so precious… and not completely wrong. He supposes, that since you’ve already started this conversation… He might just give it a shot. After all he is an entirely different man for you now, right? The straightforward one too.
Yet why is his heart thumping so wildly in his chest?
“I was… am wondering, if such a gorgeous woman, sitting in front of me right now, would let me court her.”
That’s it. The words are out, no turning back here. It feels surreal, true, but the male reassures himself that at least one issue is going to be out of his way, and whatever decision you’d make - he’d take it. Even if you angrily chase him out of the chamber.
However, it’s so hard to look you in the eyes - those pretty eyes that are filled with warmth and admiration, two things that are easy to turn into a freezing cold and disgust.
“You? As in the Darknight Hero?”
Here it is. Here is the implication that might as well as mean that whatever you two built during the few nighttime meetings is now ruined by a simple half-flirtatious suggestion.
All he can do is nod.
“I am sorry, Sir,” oh, the everlasting softness of your voice... Is that really how one delivers the rejection? “But there is already someone in my heart. I hope you will understand.”
Of course he does, no matter how painful it is. A delicate soul and a loving heart of yours can’t stay unoccupied, it would’ve been stupid to think so. Doesn’t matter the notion pierces his heart - he mustn’t take it close to it while wearing a mask.
“I apologize,” is all he can mutter, the voice suddenly slipping its usual gruffness, but no attention is spared to it.
“No need,” he is aware of the groan of the mattress as you shift, pulling your legs over the edge of the bed, and fully facing him now. “I am actually grateful for you being here to hear that. It’s been hard to keep it all in,“ this he understands even more. “Can I ask for a small favor?”
“Sure,” it’s the least he can do for making you uncomfortable.
“Can I whisper his name to you?”
The night is magical. There is no other explanation than its luring spell for why the man who’s just gotten rejected is sliding off the windowsill and moving closer to you to grant you your request. It’s also possible that your curiosity is contagious, but, Diluc does not dwell on it, he knows that the Darknight Hero wouldn’t.
Just as he doesn’t have time to react. A startled gasp is stuck in his throat, a hand shoots up, but it’s too late. Thick crimson bangs are spilling from under the pulled hood and ruby eyes widen in fright when the mask is pulled off of his face. He freezes in his bending position, staring at you in disbelief, fingers curled in a grasp not so far from his face. The face you know all too well. 
“Knew it,” you look content, twirling the beaked accessory between your fingers. Your smile is serene, and the image of a beautiful tranquility once again makes his heart skip a beat. What’s going on? Is this even real? Is there an option to let the ground swallow him whole? What do you mean ‘you knew’? Is it a good thing? Is it a bad thing? Is he screwed?
Archons, is your relationship screwed?
“Diluc,” it's his own name that shakes him back to reality. The blush creeps up his cheeks, mixing the blazing hues of embarrassment and shame.
“Yes..?”
You cock your head again, the smile getting wider.
“I promised the name of whom my heart belongs to, no? It’s Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr. You.”
He swears he will faint right here and now. It must be a dream, it must be!
“You are thinking it’s a dream, aren’t you?” With a sigh you abandon the mask on the duvet, reaching out for his gloved hand, carefully tracing the back of it with the tips of your fingers. “Well, it’s not. And I am serious.”
“But-” He clears his throat, cursing the weakness in his knees at the barest of your touch. His mind is rushing, he can’t make logical conclusions, he can barely think with everything suddenly crashing and crumbling around him. So his heart takes over, bringing up his most sacred concern. “But I thought you were not interested in me.”
“Of course I am!” He flinches when the offense slips into your tone. “Of course I am, it’s just… you never asked me about dating. And I falsely assumed you are satisfied with what we already have.”
And he was. For the longest time, until it became obvious that he is not.
“When you saved me that evening I knew it was you. There is no mistake in the comforting warmth your body exudes, nor in the way you generally carry yourself. Also those strong hands… Can you name that many claymore users?”
You’ve known all this time?
“Forgive me for being selfish,” you chuckle sheepishly, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers, and Diluc finds it both cute and reassuring, calming even. “I kept you both during the day and at night for myself. I just wanted to know this side of you better. To know you better. And when you asked me under the disguise of the Darknight Hero… I just knew I wanted to hear that from the Diluc Ragnvindr.”
“In that case,” he lowers on his knee, clasping your hands in his and lying to himself that it’s not from how his body collapses with relief, clinging to you as if you’ll turn out to be just a piece of his desperate imagination, “I am selfish too. Because I was coming to you day and night with the exact same thoughts.”
“Does it make us a couple of selfish idiots, who clearly lack communication skills?” You giggle, and, Archons, what a splendid sound.
“I guess it does. Though I’d like the ‘couple’ part to become more real," giving your palms a squeeze, Diluc takes a deep breath, and with a new-found confidence makes his intentions clear. "Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?”
“Yes!”
The redhead cannot keep in his own laughter when you tug on his hands to draw him closer, to throw your arms around his broad shoulders and bury you face in his hair, smiling ear to ear. Gingerly he places his own palms on the small of your back, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, and releasing a shaky breath.
Together. You are officially together.
And he is going to take his time with you.
taglist: @axerrri
2K notes · View notes
ghouljams · 3 months
Text
A little fae!König because we haven't seen him in a while...
"Can we have sex tonight?"
König tries to keep his excitement contained, tries to keep from pouncing on you like the wild beast he is. He even manages to stop the gunshot reaction he wants to have of turning to look at you to make sure it actually was you asking, so you know you have his full and undivided attention. Still, he can feel it ripple through his obscura, fracturing his human form like a wave through still waters. He can feel your embarrassed heat tugging at his ties to you.
"We can have sex now," he responds instead.
"We're working," you reason. König hums. He doesn't particularly care about working, doesn't see the need for it, doesn't see the issue with claiming you in front of a few weak fae and weaker humans, but you're so shy about these things. His silence must make you nervous, must make you think he's saying no --as if he'd ever-- because you start up another train of explanatory thought. "It's, y'know," you start and stop, your frustration bleeding into your huff, "I'm just so- I'm ovulating." You finish with a sigh, like that explains everything and doesn't make König jerk his head to look at you.
Saliva rushes in his mouth, dripping over his teeth at the low growl in his throat. He knew, of course, could smell it on you, but actually hearing you tell him, like an admission of guilt... so that's why you want him to fuck you. "Out," he barks at the crowded store, his voice filling the corners and bouncing back to echo in the shop patrons ears, "now."
You hold up your hands to stop the rush of fae customers as they scurry, to try and halt the nervous glances of your human customers. Almost begging people to stay and finish their purchases with an embarrassed heat König has never felt before. It doesn't help your case when he presses against your back and forces you down against the counter. You give a truly enticing frown as the last customer leaves and König's magic blows the show sign to "closed".
"Ja mein liebling?" He coos down at you, slotting his hips against yours, "Need me to breed you, hm?"
"No," you grumble, pushing back against the gentle movement of his hips, grinding against his quickly hardening cock, "just stupid horny, and want your stupid dick." König tuts, shaking his head as he leans down to tease his teeth against your neck.
"That's not very nice Liebling," he scrapes the sharp points against your sensitive skin, you can only hope he doesn't draw blood, "you should be kinder to the man that fucks you."
"Kinder to my f-" your breath hitches and our stomach jumps as he fixes the angle of your hips, his thick straining cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. The whine you let slip is pathetic, needy, everything you're so desperate to pretend you aren't.
"You know how to ask," König reminds you, "know what you really want from me." God he can smell you, has been smelling you all day, breathing in your stupid little fuck me hormones. He presses close, pushes against your desperate cunt so he can bury his nose at your pulse. You're so terribly warm, so lovely and inviting, so hungry for him and unwilling to admit it. He's going to fuck you, he just wants to hear you beg first, and the longer you're silent the longer he can take enjoying the way you squirm under him.
And you are silent. So shy to admit what you want even when it's pressing against you, it's cute. König likes that you can't ask for things, that you always offer sex like he'll turn you down sooner than tear your clothes off. It just makes it all the sweeter hearing you whimper and plead with him. It just makes it more fun when he winds and arm around you to press between your thighs, groping and rubbing over where he knows your clit is until you're really squirming under him. You smell like you're dripping, a crueler man might not let you play this game, someone with less will power might already be on their knees for a taste. König doesn't waste the effort, not when he can feel the exact moment the embarrassed fight leaves your body, the way your hips rock greedily between his cock and his hand and you quietly whimper out,
"Please König, want your come, want to feel you breed me."
His smile could split a snake's face, his teeth poised to tear into your flesh are quickly hidden behind the lips that kiss your jaw. "Braves Madchen," he rumbles, his fingers quick to open his fly and push his trousers down, "I thought you'd never ask."
567 notes · View notes
dykeomania · 3 months
Text
lovergirl!hazel headcanons
。.。 just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.
a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.
tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.
practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.
Tumblr media
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.
she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.
she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.
you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.
"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."
her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.
"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.
"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."
but let's take a few steps back first,
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.
"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"
"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."
"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.
hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.
"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.
"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"
"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."
a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.
your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."
hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,
"so what if i do?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.
"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.
"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."
hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.
"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"
"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.
"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."
hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.
...
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.
"it's too late for that, though." you frown.
"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."
"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."
hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"
you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."
hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"
"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.
her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.
hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.
"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.
but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...
"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."
"okay.."
"...m'sorry--"
"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."
you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.
hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"
the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,
and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.
...
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.
"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"
"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"
and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!
ღ*♡∞:。.。 hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.
hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.
"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.
her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,
"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."
609 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 6 months
Text
Green Eyed Monster.
Eddie's ex is at the bar you visit and has her eyes set on Eddie.
Eddie however only has eyes for you.
Warnings: Minors dni, 18+, jealous reader, bit of angst, older Eddie x Reader.
Don't copy, reuse or repost my work
♥️
The sounds of laughter coming from the bar wss enough to have you on edge for the last hour or so.
What you thought would be a quiet drink with Eddie had turned into something quite different.
She was here, Elena. His ex before he met you and seeing her in the flesh was a shock to your system.
She was stunning, perfect body, killer smile and radiating seduction. It was enough to send you to this quiet corner, nursing a drink (or three) with jealousy eating away at you.
Eddie had pointed at you and you heard him say he was here with you. The look on Elena's face was of pure malice and she pratically looked down her nose at you which made you feel even more miserable.
Every time Eddie went to the bar for a drink Elena would pounce on him and hold his attention and cut into your time with him.
You weren't stupid, you knew Eddie had been with a lot of women, he was older than you (39 while you were just turning twenty six)
He was so much more experienced than you and yes you shouldn't get jealous like this, he was with you and that's what mattered but you couldn't help it, especially when Elena made it clear what she thought of you.
Fed up with feeling sorry for yourself and growing irratated by Elena draping herself all over Eddie you decided to head to the bar for another drink.
You've just sat down when a guy from the table closest to the bar is by your side.
"Why hello beautiful, you here alone? Can I get you a drink" You hold up your newly purchased drink and nod to Eddie.
"I'm here with my..." Actually what was Eddie to you? Was he your boyfriend? Was your relationship going anywhere what wasn't just sex?
You can feel Eddie's gaze on you and you catch his eye noticing the way he's glaring at the guy beside you.
It was perfectly fine for him to let his gorgeous ex flirt openly with him though you thought to yourself and grew even more annoyed with him.
In fact you wanted nothing more than to drink a little bit more and forget your troubles. Ignoring Eddie you excuse yourself from the bar and decide to dance.
Maybe you're a little bit tipsy but the music is so good and it's beginning to cheer you up just a little bit.
The guy from the bar sidles up to you and he smiles at you as he dances along beside you introducing himself as Nathan.
That's when Eddie appears with Elena nowhere in sight and he moves to take your hand.
"Come on. We're leaving" You pout and shake your head, just wanting to dance.
"Thought you were too busy chatting to Elena" You shrug his hand away and he scowls at your tone. You don't mean to be so snappish but you're still a bit pissed off.
"Yeah dude, back off we were dancing" Nathan huffs but pales under Eddie's vicious glare.
"We're leaving. Now" he takes your hand once more and leads you outside.
It's a short walk to his apartment and Eddie is fuming silently as you head to his.
The whole walk is in silence until you're inside his apartment. He shrugs off his lesther jacket and glares at you.
"Bed now" his tone leaves no room for arguments but you're in no mood to be good tonight and fold your arms across your chest, not moving an inch.
"No"
"Why are you acting like such a brat? Do you want me to take you over my knee right now because I'm fucking tempted"
Just the thought makes you wet and you're mad at yourself for being so turned on when you're so annoyed with him.
"Do what you want" You reply and your answer is met with him throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to bed.
A harsh slap to your backside quietens your protests and he dumps you on the bed.
He kisses you and it's hot, demanding and it makes you needy for more.
Eddie smirks as he makes quick work of both of your clothes and his mouth his all over your naked body.
"You're mine sweetheart, how do you think it made me feel seeing that boy drool all over you"
You're barely capable of any thought as he uses his fingers to rub relentlessly at your clit.
Some of your anger returns a little bit as you remember Elena and you glare at him, he slows down the pace with his fingers suprised at your fury.
"Didn't think you were too bothered when you had that goddess drooling over you all night" he smirks and you're just about to move away from him when he gently tilts your chin up so you look at him.
"You're jealous?" Tears burn in your eyes and you use his suprise to shrug away from him and begin to pull on your clothes.
"Yes I was because she's stunning and perfect and the way she looked at me made me feel like a slug and like I'm not worthy of you"
He takes a step towards you but you shake your head trying to hold yourself together.
"Maybe she's right. I don't even know what I mean to you besides sex so maybe someone like Elena would be better for you because if I stay with you any longer I'm going to fall even deeper for you and...
He strides over to you and gently places a finger on your lips.
"I don't want Elena. You're adorable when you're all pouty and jealous but let me make one thing clear, I told Elena about you and made it clear I wasn't interested in her. I told her to clear off princess"
"Why? Like I said she's gorgeous" he dismisses this.
"No one is as beautiful as you in my eyes, I wish you would see that. I wish you would see how fucking madly in love with you I am"
His confession stuns you, this time your tears are for happy reasons.
"I love you" You tell him and he kisses your forehead.
"A thousand Elena's couldn't compare to you sweetheart" he kisses you and it's slow and gentle, perfect.
The tension evaporates and you spend the rest of the night in Eddie's arms. Those three little words spoken again and again.
701 notes · View notes
kingkatsuki · 10 days
Text
Specifically thinking of Sanemi crushing on you today.
Just how hard he tries to fight his feelings for you, to push them to the back of his mind and act like they don’t exist. But the harder he tries to pretend that he doesn’t like you, the more the feelings continue to flourish in his chest.
And he thinks he’s subtle about it, thinks he’s hidden them well. But there are certain moments where he just can’t help himself— staring across the courtyard at you while you giggle with Mitsuri, watching you both share the sweet dango you’d purchased as the sun casts an ethereal glow against your skin. He tells himself it’s stupid how you’re both so carefree, so joyous when there’s very little to be happy about. But he can’t help feeling happy when he thinks of you—
It’s worse when you’re preparing for the onsen in the evening, wearing a loose robe as you move towards the female side with Mitsuri as he’s left lingering around the divide. Reduced to nothing more than a desperate pervert when he realises just how easy it would be to seat himself in the perfect position to see you on the other side. His cock throbbing at the thought of your naked body, wet and soapy as he pictured running his hands along every inch of your skin.
This is all your fault and he hates you for it, honestly. Hates that this is what you’ve reduced him to— and yet he still finds himself seeking you out. His cock wrapped in a tight fist as he fucks into it, imagining how much better your warm, wet cunt would feel.
He spills all over himself with a grunt, and still he can’t manage to pull his gaze away from you. The way your hands run along your breasts as you squeeze and palm your soapy skin. It has Sanemi imagining how you’d feel beneath him, and his still-hard cock throbs pathetically as he curses through his teeth. He refuses to die at the hands of a demon, and yet he’s certain you’ll be the cause of his demise.
He normally doesn’t spent as long bathing, something else he blames you for as he towels himself dry. Trying to fight back the blush that threatens to bloom across his cheeks when he sees you waiting for him, certain he could blame it on the warm bath water if he needed to—
“Do you want to walk home with me, Shinazugawa-san?” You offer that same stupid smile that has his stomach doing backflips. Remembering that your estate isn’t far from where he resides, he knows the direct route there (not that he’d ever admit it).
“No.” He scoffs, but you still find him falling into step beside you as you both make your way home in the gentle evening breeze.
And he definitely won’t admit returning home and making his favourite sweet treat, as he thinks about giving some to you—
224 notes · View notes
nightdivinity · 2 months
Text
Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2
Tumblr media
ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.
Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.
When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.
To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.
It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”
You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.
His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.
“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.
You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.
“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.
A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.
You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.
“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.
There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.
What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.
“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.
“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.
“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”
“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”
“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”
“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.
You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.
There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.
“Don’t”, you squeal.
He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.
“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.
You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.
“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.
“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”
“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”
“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”
“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”
“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”
You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.
The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.
“Duke?”, you ask.
He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.
“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.
That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?
“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.
A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.
In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.
Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.
“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.
His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.
“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.
You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?
“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.
Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.
Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.
Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.
“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.
“How do you know my name?”
“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.
You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.
“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.
Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.
“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”
“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”
“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”
The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.
While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.
“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.
You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.
“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.
Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.
“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.
“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”
“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”
“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”
“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.
The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.
“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.
First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.
“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”
Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.
“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.
“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.
Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.
You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.
“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.
Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.
“Boxes?”, Jay asks.
“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.
“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.
He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.
“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.
“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.
“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.
“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.
He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.
“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.
“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.
“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.
Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?
Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.
“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”
And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.
That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.
286 notes · View notes