#i just frustratedly drew this out

[xamaxenta]

to nobodies surprise but mine using reference helps

#guess who actually looked at Ace’s actual face for the first time in half a year #that’s right my stupid lazy ass didnt fucking reference shit and im always left wondering #wow my Ace is so off recently whys that :(( #its really nothing special #i just frustratedly drew this out #i dont feel better for it honestly rly numb ?? oh nyoh burn out ??? disgusting lmao #anyway set a reminder hey look at Ace when you draw guarantee it may make you feel better about the end result #the limbo of maybe i like it but in half an hour l hate it

[norrizzandpia]

i love ur stories sm

can i have like oscar takes off his racesuit and you can see hickeys on his neck and have him not notice until lando tells him about it (like whisper in his ear or something) while hes in the middle of an interview with no way to cover them at that point

I… would do anything for this man.

Cover It Up (OP81)

Summary: That one piece of clothing was hiding so much and Oscar just had to take it off.

Warnings: suggestive themes, Oscar being embarrassed, Lando’s laugh lol, language?

Note: y’all buckle up bc I have absolutely nothing to do today and I want to get through AS MANY requests as I possibly can before having to do school work

After the Qatar Grand Prix, every driver was on the verge of heatstroke. That didn’t miss the two papaya drivers at all. Their faces red and hot, beads of sweat falling quickly off their foreheads, Oscar and Lando wanted nothing to do with the press being shoved in their faces.

However, knowing that wasn’t particularly up to them, they put on their best smiles and nodded as they answered questions they got millions of times. It became too much for Oscar when the big lights shining down on them added to the heat he was already experiencing, becoming overwhelmed with the temperature.

“Can you hold this?” He asked Lando, shoving his water bottle to the boy’s chest.

Lando nodded as he continued listening intently to the interviewer, taking the object in his hands and disregarding the way Oscar turned around and began unzipping the top of his race suit.

“Too hot for you, Oscar?” The reporter giggled.

He laughed along with her as he pulled down the material to hang around his waist, still with his back facing them. Her question and conversing with Lando resumed as Oscar made last minute adjustments and turned back around.

At first, no one noticed as their eyes weren’t on him, more so paying attention to Lando’s response. But, when the conversation turned back to the two of them, the interviewer went silent as did the rest of the crew standing behind her.

Their bulging eyes on his, Oscar’s eyebrows drew together as he gave Lando a quick side glance. Similarly, Lando was incredibly confused by the new silence. That was until his eyes trailed down Oscar’s face to meet the big, purple hickeys painting the top and bottom of his neck.

“Oh… my god.” Lando whispered under his breath. The spots littered Oscar’s throat, the complete opposite of unassuming. There were some below his ears, but the majority of them lay scattered around the base of his neck. It got worse as Lando clocked the way some poked out from his fireproofs, very clearly resting on his collarbone as well.

Oscar frantically looked between Lando and the reporter, wanting impatiently for someone to tell him what was wrong. He was about to frustratedly ask why everyone was ogling him, but his teammate leaning in and whispering in his ear stopped any further movements.

“Mate, I think Y/n might’ve left a few hickeys.” He said, throat clearing at the mention of her name. Frankly, he was so taken aback by the severity of the bruises, not expecting that from the sweet, quiet girl that was Oscar’s girlfriend.

He watched as Oscar’s face fell, completely mortified, and his hands came up to cover his neck.

“Oh, I- um-” He stuttered, his PR manager shaking her head behind him.

“Let me just,” He began as he pulled his suit back on begrudgingly. It was hot, extremely hot, but not enough to sit in front of a group of strangers with the proof of him and his girlfriend’s intimate life on display.

When things were back to normal, hickeys finally covered, yet still lingering in the minds of everyone involved, the reporter hesitantly went on. She was kind enough as to not address it, something which neither made it worse nor better.

He tried to push down the red on his cheeks for the remainder of the interview, but failed as every five seconds images of Y/n sitting on his lap and pulling groans from him when she met the right spot under his ear flashed in his brain.

The interview went on longer than Oscar wanted, its ending warranting him flying from his chair and seeking the safety of his room.

Lando, the poor man, was left behind to exchange a few last words with the reporter, thanking her for her patience and the way she handled the “uncomfortable situation”.

When he trailed back into hospitality alone, Lando found Y/n sitting at one of the tables on her phone. He sat down next to her, smiling mischievously, “Hi, Y/n.”

She looked at him weirdly, “Why do you sound like you know something?”

He chuckled, “Because I do.”

Her eyes widened, “You do? What is it? Did you finally figure out what happened between Charlotte and Charles?”

He laughed, knowing how much she loved their gossiping sessions, but shook his head, “No, I know something about you.”

Her head cocked, “Oh? What is it?”

“You like Oscar’s neck.” His response made her eyebrows draw together.

“What?” She asked, clearly confused.

“Everyone saw the hickeys.” Now, she understood. Her body jumped from her chair and ran off toward the stairs to Oscar’s room, not saying a word in response to Lando.

She reached his room quickly, knocking feverishly on the door, “Oscar, open the door.”

She heard it click and her boyfriend came into view, his face a tomato shade, something she knew didn’t have to do just with the heat.

“What happened?” She asked as he ushered her in.

Locking the door behind them, he tilted his head back to show her his purple neck, “When the fuck did you do this?!”

To be honest, it was worse than she remembered. His throat was, practically, a physical symbol of her attraction to him.

“That had to have been last night.” The bruises were too fresh to be days old.

“That’s what I thought,” He nodded, padding over to the small mirror beside her on the wall and inspecting further.

“Well, the whole world has seen them.” He gave, sighing when her hand trailed the purple mark just below his ear.

She nodded slightly, “You know, I’m not that mad about it. Now, all those girls on the internet can back off.”

His eyebrows raised, “Yeah?” He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her teasingly, “Should I give you some to let the guys on the internet know to back off too?”

Her chuckling was interrupted by a moan when he sucked deeply on the underside of her jaw, “That sounds like a great idea.”

It definitely proved to be a great idea.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mclaren #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81

[cremedensada]

Yandere fem demon who has been trying to tempt you to sinning. Dragging you to shops and boutiques, highly amused when you insist everything she's been trying to get you in has been pretty revealing.

Yandere demon who uses her body to further tempt you. A flirty look here, a lingering touch there - she's pulled out all the stops.

But why weren't you at the very least tempted? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy.

Yandere demon who, while busying herself with seducing a different human, finds herself cornered. It's fine, she's a demon anyway, she'll let these stupid humans think she's fragile and shit.

But you arrive just before she slits their throats - courageously demanding they leave her alone. Brave despite the croak in your voice, and the shaking of your hands. You successfully drew the assailants' interests, abandoning her in favor of you.

In a sudden surge of unnamed emotion, she uses her powers to kill the assailants swiftly before any of them could touch you.

Yandere demon who, cradled in your embrace, figures this is the time to get you. In a way, it's a perfect set up, isn't it? A damsel in distress (not really) being saved by a hero. It's only fair she rewards you for your deeds, right? Surely you would never turn down her offer.

Yandere demon who, before she can voice out her thanks, finds the words disappearing at the tip of her tongue. Looking at your terrified expression, panicked and blubbering out words of concern and apologies.

What were you apologizing for? You didn't know something like this would happen. She's used to this.

Yandere demon who gets stunned as you shouted in frustration when she voiced out her thoughts with nonchalance. Staring at you in awe and surprise as you, frustratedly, insisted how it's exactly the reason why you're sorry.

Why?

You know she's got a reputation, she's beautiful - of course that'll get people's attention. And some people aren't so nice with trying to get her attention on them.

You don't know she's a demon, or that she's befriended you just so she can doom you to sinning. But she did befriend you.

"I care about you. Do I need any more reasons to make sure you don't get hurt?"

A sudden spike in her heartbeat, a flush of her cheeks (demons are actually capable of blushing? Who knew - certainly not her). Touched by your declaration.

You have no clue what you've just made her feel.

Yandere demon who still takes you to boutiques, urging you to wear the clothes she picked out for you. They're less revealing now, but still stylish - which you appreciate. The clothes are nice, but you were never here for them anyway.

You aren't allowed to wear anything remotely revealing anymore. Not if she can help it. Every single inch of your skin is for her to see. Every single part of you is hers.

Constantly hanging around with you, arms linked and touching you. Your popularity spikes the more the two of you are seen together - simple cause and effect.

She kills the people showing open interest towards you - also simple cause and effect.

Yandere demon who abandoned her duties as a demon tempting mortals to sin, in favor of attending to you. For your affection. You care for her, remember? You made that declaration.

Yandere demon who, in a way, got her plans with you fulfilled. She's doomed you, as she intended. Not to eternal damnation - but to herself.

this is so all over the place but i needed to write her immediately. shes invading my thoughts get her out!!!!!

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #yandere scenarios #gn reader #gender neutral reader #tw allusions to being cornered and almost assaulted?? #female yandere

[adeathlessgod]

Talking’s Overrated

featuring : Eren Yeager x fem!reader

content : MDNI, smut, Eren is whipped, he’s also a little shit, mean dom!eren if you squint, car sex, fingering, mutual masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, anal play, creampie, hair pulling, full nelson, friends with benefits to lovers sorta, reader is sort of a brat idk, Eren loves hair pulling, ddlg vibes if you use a magnifying glass, a little dumbification, reader has her ears pierced, Eren spits in reader’s mouth, slight degradation, DEFTONES MENTION!!!

word count : 5.7k

synopsis : After Eren ends your little fling, he asks to talk it out with you one late night. You find out he believes talking is overrated.

notes : Hi guys!!! I’m Angel, and this is my first ever fic and it took me weeks to work on, so notes, reblogs and constructive criticism are all welcomed! Hope you enjoy my loves<3

- Come outside

Your stomach flips as you read the notification on your screen, hesitantly swiping it away. It’s late on a Thursday night, it’s quiet. Your room is shrouded in darkness, only illuminated by the blaring brightness of your phone screen. You continue to scroll through Instagram, giggling at Hitch’s close friends, when another message comes through.

- Let’s talk

Talking. You chew your cheek. When was the last time you two had spoken?

“Friend, huh? Is that what I am to you?” His hands caged your head against the bathroom wall. He leaned closer, dropping his head to meet your gaze, his breath minty and warm. “Is fucking each other what friends do?”

“It was a-“

“A mistake? Is that what you think of us?” Eren was dangerously close to you now, his lips ghosting across yours.

“I never said it was a mistake,” You chewed your lip nervously as you drew in a shaky breath, “Just a one time thing.”

“There’s no fucking difference, you either want this or you don’t. You know how I feel about this,” his breath fanned over your face, your eyes flutter closed, “About you,” he pauses.

“Don’t deny me, please, let me know I’m not alone in this,” he was almost pleading now, his voice soft and strangled.

You let your head fall back, gently knocking against the wall. “Eren, I-“, you looked at him, how the sharp contours of his jaw had been softened into slopes by the low, luminescent lighting. Your eyes trailed over him slowly, like he was a wonder of the world.

Striking, green eyes, framed by long, dark lashes. A pointed Roman nose, above his plump, rosy lips and the set of shiny white teeth behind them. His smooth, olive skin, akin to sculpted sandstone. He was everything you could have asked for, everything you needed, and that was entirely too much to ask of him.

You shook your head at him, dropping his gaze ashamedly. The air in the room staled.

Eren scoffed, and his hands fell from their place on the wall. “Fine, you want to fuck Jean, go for it,” he runs a hand down his face frustratedly, “thanks for letting me know where I stand, and that this meant absolutely nothing to you.”

“Eren, that’s not-“

“Shut the fuck up, okay? You don’t get to have a say in this, you don’t get to fuck with my feelings and then tell me it’s okay. You don’t get to-“, he blows out a short breath, recollecting his thoughts. He starts again, slower, calmer, quieter, “You don’t get to break my heart and tell me that’s not what you meant, okay?”

He waits for a response, and you wait for him to shout again. You have a moment of silence, despite the muffled Deftones bleeding through the walls. Eren turns to leave, but his hand hesitates over the doorknob. Opening his mouth to speak, he casts you one more angry - no, pained - glance, and swallows.

“Do you regret this?”

You don’t respond.

The door slams behind Eren. You don’t follow him.

The door slams behind you as you step into the midnight chill, dressed in only a hoodie and shorts. The night air bites at your legs and you flex your hands at your sides routinely. The world outside is serene and caliginous - illuminated only by the spindly street lamps stationed on the sidewalk like nutcracker soldiers. Your heart sputters at the sight of Eren’s car, parked crookedly in your driveway - you can’t even see through his tinted windows. The low hum of his engine rattles his car gently, like a small, mobile refrigerator.

When you get to the passenger side, you swing the door open, slide into the plush leather seat, and close the door, all without sparing Eren a second glance. He is sitting in the driver’s seat, legs spread wide apart, in a black hoodie and grey sweats. He shifts his hips upwards as he readjusts his sitting position, his eyes never leaving your shivering figure.

He rakes over your oversized hoodie, your bare legs, your pretty, pretty face. He lingers on your face for a second too long, then he grins when he sees you press your thighs together.

“You cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” Eren hums in response as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel. His rings glint in the muted glare of the moonlight.

“Want me to turn on the heating?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You watch as he cranks the dial up to max, and the warm air almost instantaneously rushes out of the AC vents. You slump back into your seat, revelling in the warmth. A thin film of condensation falls onto the windows, mottling the midnight scenery outside - your very own Starry Night.

“So,” Eren begins cooly, “how have you been?”

His voice was oddly impartial and you knew better than to trust Eren’s nonchalance. You look at him side-long, attempting to uncover any unkind inflections. You’re met with a lazy smile and a glint in his eyes that stokes the warmth between your legs, warmer than any heater can make you.

“I’ve been good.” A small, charged beat passes. “You?”

“I’ve been good too,” he hums. He licks his lips cockily when he asks, “Have you missed me?”

You’re a delicate instrument, and Eren wants to know if he can still remember how to play you, how to tune you to his liking.

You surrender to his disarming smile.

You breathe in. “Yeah, I did.”

Eren huffs out a quiet laugh and lets his head fall against the window. “I’ve missed you too.”

You breathe out. “Really?”

He grins. “Of course, I have.” He slowly leans across the console, “What,” he murmurs softly, “You don’t believe me?”

You squirm in your seat, flustered by his unwavering gaze. His eyes are low, and swimming with mirth. He cradles your face in his hand and your eyes flutter shut when he drags his nose along your jaw.

Your breaths are shallower now. You’re supposed to be talking, talking about you, talking about your relationship, talking about anything but how much you yearned for each other the past weeks.

You tilt your head sideways, facing him, and tentatively press your forehead to his. He’s rendered you breathless within minutes. You are drowning in him - his sight, his scent, his touch - you can’t talk, let alone breathe, not when he’s taking up all the space in the car.

All notions of reconciliation are abandoned when he presses a fleeting kiss to the shell of your ear, and then whispers, “Do I have to prove it?”

You draw in a shuddering breath.

“Please.”

His lips press into yours, hot and wet, as you lace your hands into his hair. He tastes of peppermint and marijuana. His hand trails from your cheek to your throat, squeezing gently, coaxing a small moan from you. Skimming his thumb over your pulse, his tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it gently. Your hands tug at the hair interlocked between your fingers, and Eren releases a loud groan into your mouth.

“C’mere,” he mumbles against you. His hands slip under your thighs, and he gently manoeuvres you over the center console and into his lap. You shudder when you feel him beneath you, large and thick and impossibly hard. You roll your hips against the tent in his pants experimentally, and it pulls a moan from both of you.

He pulls away - his lips slick and swollen, still connected to yours by limp strings of saliva - to rasp, “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

There is nothing other than reverence in his eyes as he surveys you. Your chest is already heaving, you’re flushed from your neck to your ears, and your lips are a dark, kiss-bitten red. An angel. My angel, Eren thinks. You hum in response and dip your head to capture his lips again. His cock is already dribbling precum, staining his sweats a dark grey. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, before sinking your teeth into it. His dick twitches.

Eren pulls away, again, to mutter huskily, “You’re so mean, baby, what am I gonna do with you?” before sliding his lips along your jaw. His lips leave a blazing trail behind them, and his hands are just as hot.

His fingers slip under the hem of your hoodie, pressing small circles into your skin that make you writhe in his lap. His lips stretch into a smirk as he descends down the column of your throat, pausing every now and again to suck bruises into your skin. His hands tug at your hoodie, with a muttered, “Off.”

You scramble to take off your oversized sweater in the confines of Eren’s car, and in your flurry of movements, you elbow the horn behind you. You jolt at the sudden squawk, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you grounded. He chuckles lightheartedly.

“Easy, we don’t want your neighbours knowing we’re out here, right?” he teases you. Pouting, you discard your hoodie into the passenger seat and watch Eren’s jaw go slack at the sight of your bare chest.

“No bra?” Eren immediately takes your left nipple into his hot, wet mouth and your back arches, “You’re so good to me, baby.”

You keen as he rolls the other nipple in his fingers, content with how they pebbled due to the chill of the night. He releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop and places sloppy, open-mouthed kisses in the valley between your breasts. His large, calloused hands fondle your breasts languidly, his cock twitching in his briefs. Moaning softly, you roll your hips against him, desperate for friction, and whimper out a needy, “Eren, please.”

He lazily grins up at you. He is so insufferable - “What do you need, baby?”

You attempt to roll your hips again, but Eren’s hands keep you stationary, “I need you.”

“Yeah? You want me to take these off for you?” He tugs at your skimpy shorts, and he chuckles when you nod enthusiastically, “Hips up, baby.” He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your thong, and he sweeps off your underwear and shorts, so you’re sitting bare in his lap. He wolf-whistles at the sight of you, pressing a few kisses to your collarbone.

Your tits, full, warm and round, your waist, melded to Eren’s touch, your thighs, plush and soft, either side of Eren’s lap, your pussy, glistening in the light, dripping onto his sweats - you’re so undeniably sexy, even more so in the moonlight painting you silver.

He runs his hands up and down your waist, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. His lips are still swollen from your kisses, and his eyes are glazed with adoration. If you squint, you can see the hearts dancing in his eyes. Your heart flutters. You’re Eren’s, his to hold, his to fuck, his to love. He doesn’t deserve you - he knows that much - but he is willing to ruin your friendship if it meant being able to see you like this again. His eyes widen when he sees you palm your breasts, spilling out of the gaps between your fingers. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and warmth courses between your legs.

“Stop it.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie by your voice. He clears his throat briefly. “Stop what?”

You wiggle on his lap, juggling your tits, smiling coyly, “Staring.”

He grins at you, brazen, “Never.”

His breath fans against your chest, hot, and his tongue slides across your sternum, hotter. He pulls you in for another kiss, a slower, softer one this time, and lets his hands roam around you freely. One hand rests on the small of your back, the other sliding down the plane of your stomach to where you need him most.

Your hips buck to meet him halfway. “Please, Eren-“

His fingers finally come into contact with your core, and you let out a strained whimper at his fleeting touch. He ghosts over your clit, chuckling at your displeasure. Just as you are about to whine again, he starts applying pressure to your swollen nub - just enough to make your head spin - as he clicks his tongue.

“Patience, baby. No more whining, you know I’ll give it to you good.“ He dips a finger between your folds, running it along your slit, before plunging it into you.

You gasp quietly as he begins thrusting it in and out of you. His fingers are long and thick, adorned with thick silver rings, nestled against that gummy spot that makes your knees weak. The stretch is delicious, something your fingers could never achieve. You can hear the squelch squelch squelch echo around the car before he even adds another finger. You’re mildly aware that you’re dripping down his wrist, but your mind is too foggy with pleasure to feel an inkling of shame. You’ve never been this wet for anyone before, and your heart hammers wildly in your chest.

“You hear that baby?” Eren teases you, “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” You whimper and bury your head into the crook of his neck. He slides in another finger, stretching you open, open, open. His rings graze your clit and you hum eagerly. You resort to bouncing on his hand, your gut beginning to tighten. Eren’s fingers still as he watches you. His voice is lowered to a husky drawl - “Go on, I want to see your cum on my fingers. Use me, baby.”

You begin to rock your hips faster, encouraged by his coos, the flames in your gut beginning to spread. Your gyrations become erratic and uneven. You pant into his ear wantonly, your breasts bouncing with your every move.

Gritting his teeth, Eren throws his head back. Moan by moan, you’re sending him closer to the edge. The hold you have on him is debilitating, and he’ll finish soon - untouched - if you don’t stop whining into his ear like a bitch in heat.

“Look at me,” Eren commands suddenly, tugging your hair. “I want to see you cum for me.”

Placing your hands on his shoulders, holding his gaze, you grind your clit against the heel of his palm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your legs lock around his waist at this newfound degree of pleasure. Moans are tumbling out of you unrestrained now, your voice high, whiny and loud. You are on the brink of orgasm, painstakingly close, and as Eren tugs your hair again, you lose it.

Your vision blurs and your legs shake as the world stutters on its axis. You spasm and clench around Eren’s hand, dripping onto the seat below you. Pleasure washes over you in waves, each one less intense than the last. You fall into Eren’s chest, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

Eren looks at the mess you’ve made, chews his lip - letting out a low fuuuuck - before asking if, “You’re okay?”

You hum in response, barely registering Eren’s question. He flips you swiftly, and your back is now flush with his chest. His hoodie is warm and scratchy against your skin. Eren tugs your hair again, lighter this time, and you look at up him, eyes wide and glazed over.

Eren sucks in a breath as he stares at you, basking in your post-orgasm glow. Your skin shimmers in the dim light filtered through his windscreen, casting your face half in shadow. Your eyes are low and your chest heaves with your sharp and fast inhales. He brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping his thumb under your eye, the other cupping your sex.

“I could cum just looking at you,” he murmurs.

You lean into his embrace, whispering, “I can cum just thinking about you.”

A hoarse groan spills from his throat, and a hard slap is landed to your clit. Your whole body lurches as you mewl loudly.

“Is that right?” he chuckled breathlessly, “Do you think about me when you touch this dirty little pussy of yours at night?” You nod avidly, and he rewards you with a few harsh circles to your clit.

“Show me,” he said, leaning forward to watch his fingers play with your pussy, “Show me how hard you cum when you think about me.” He hoists you up so he can shove his sweats halfway down his thighs - no underwear? God, he’s such a slut - and your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, bobbing between your legs.

It was long, and girthy, the head flushed to an angry red. Precum dribbled steadily from the tip, trickling down his shaft in translucent streams. A bulging vein runs down the underside of his cock, straight to where his balls sit, heavy and warm. Gripping his cock at the base, he smacks the bulbous head again your clit twice. Your legs spasm either side of him and he smirks before spitting, a fat glob of saliva landing onto your puffy clit.

He taps your clit again, gentler, encouraging, as he urges you, “Touch yourself, baby. I won’t ask again.” The shift in his tone is evident as his eyes darken, forest green now a deep viridian. You bite your bottoms lip as you slide a hand down your body, the other idly kneading your left breast.

Your fingers draw lazy circles around your entrance before dipping a finger between your folds. You sigh breathily, allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and Eren begins pumping himself slowly. You slip a finger into yourself, before bringing it back up to your lips. Eren watches keenly as you suck your essence off your fingers, then dip them back between your legs. You purr as you thrust two fingers into yourself, massaging that gummy spot that makes you dizzy. You begin to go faster, synchronous to the pumps of Eren’s hands.

His grunts are low and heavy in your ears, goading you to, “Go faster, I want to see you cum all over your fingers like the slut you are.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy, your fingers now hammering into your little hole, coaxing little spurts of arousal out of you with every pump. Eren uses your cum as a lubricant, slicking his shaft as he fists his cock aggressively. His dick nearly glitters in the moonlight, lathered in a milky sheen of your arousal. He snakes his vacant hand up your body, briefly squeezing your throat, your pulse hammering beneath his fingertips.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and he takes the opportunity to shove his fingers into your mouth. He watches saliva pool in your mouth, before spitting in it. You hum delightedly, your face so vacant with pleasure it makes Eren curse. As Eren pulls his fingers out of your mouth, spit dribbles down your chin and into the concaves of your collarbone.

“Such a messy girl, aren’t you?” he coos. You blink slowly, and then nod blankly. “Bet you don’t even know what I said, huh? So cockdrunk already,” he tuts at you lovingly as he brings his free hand to your second entrance.

When he circles your puckered hole, you gasp quietly. He shushes you tenderly, and he feels you give way beneath his finger tips.

“Good girl, gonna let me have all of you, right?” you agree mindlessly, dazed in the pursuit of your orgasm. He chuckles at you, how dumb you are for him, before slipping a finger into you, knuckle deep. Your body contorts and you let out a sharp cry. Eren grips the base of his cock to prevent the orgasm threatening to crest at the sound of your cries.

Even with one finger down there, you feel so full, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You slam your free hand on the steamy window, plastering a hand-shaped spyhole onto it. Your fingers speed up and you begin to pant when you sense your core begin to twist.

“Eren- I’m so close, fuck,” Eren slides a second finger into your ass and you let out a loud, debauched, filthy moan. You lick your lips longingly, watching beads of precum drip over Eren’s hands as he smears it over his shaft.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eren grunts against your neck, “Gonna make me cum.”

Knowing Eren was here, with you, being driven to the edge by your wanton cries and unabashed pleasure, sends you toppling headfirst into your second orgasm of the night.

Your back arches wildly and you wail out Eren’s name as you shake and convulse. You twitch violently around Eren’s fingers, simultaneously gushing onto yours. Your wrist is dripping with your arousal, as is Eren’s entire cock. As you thrash on his lap, he slowly retracts his fingers from your ass.

He slides his lips along your jaw, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat beaded along your face, before tilting your head with a large hand and kissing you. You suck on his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it softly, just how he likes it.

With a throaty moan, Eren follows you and hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out from his cock. They drape over your thighs, the steering wheel and your stomach like silvery garlands of pearls. He lets out a small grunt as the last spurts fall limply onto his hand.

You whine breathily as he rubs his cock through your folds. He gently rolls his hips upwards, and his balls hit your round ass with a small plap. He pulls away from your heated kiss, and you chase his lips desperately - you’re pathetic.

The head of his massive cock aligns with your belly button and Eren, gripping his shaft by the base, taps his tip against your navel, admiring the thin strings of precum that linger.

His voice drips with sadistic enthusiasm when he drawls, “I’m gonna be in your stomach, baby. Can you take it?”

“Eren, please, I need you.” You roll your hips against the hard length of his member.

He chuckles at your wanton desperation. “You want it, baby?” You nod fervently. “How bad?”

“So, so, so bad, please fuck me, Eren.” Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and your eyes lock onto his with blind adoration. He presses a quick kiss to your hairline, and then your forehead.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He presses his cock against your entrance, slowly, slowly, slowly pushing past that tight ring of muscle. You sigh dreamily as Eren nibbles on your earlobe, occasionally tugging at your piercings.

He pauses briefly when he bottoms out. You squirm in his arms before he scolds you, slapping your inner thigh harshly. The eerie silence of the world around you fades into your ears ringing when he slowly - agonisingly - begins thrusting. His cock drags along your walls perfectly with every precise roll of his hips. His groans echo around the car. The joint sounds of your ecstasy nearly drown out the lewd squelches between your legs.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Eren hammers your g-spot. You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your release begin to crest. Eren’s breath is hot against your neck and his muttered praises cloud your brain.

One of your hands travels up to entangle itself in Eren’s hair. He turns and plants a wet kiss on your palm. His thrusts become more rapid and shallow as you clench around him. You feel the car rock in time with his thrusts and you sigh happily.

You want your neighbours to know you’re getting fucked senseless. You want the world to know how good you’re getting it right now. Though now, your world has you spread on his lap like a fuckdoll and is pounding you like an animal.

You hiccup as Eren sinks his teeth into your palm. “You okay, pretty girl? Been quiet for a while.” When you nod, he presses his wet lips to your cheek, plastering his smile on you. He slides a hand down to your clit and begins rubbing it in small, quick circles. “No worries, I’ll have you screamin’ my name in no time. Gonna turn you into my little rag-doll.”

Your back arches as his thrusts also pick up speed. Every thrust has your legs trembling and voice cracking.

“Eren- fuck, it’s so good,” you babble in your gut-wrenching pleasure.

“Yeah?” His smirk is hot against your neck. He whispers, “How good?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts impossibly faster. Your hands dig into his biceps and when you feel blood bead at the skin, he hisses in pleasure.

“So good, no one does it like you, Eren.”

He throws his head back with a hearty groan. God, you don’t know what you do to him. Every time he thinks you’ve lured him in deep enough, he finds himself diving into you again, until he’s drowning in your wet, warm depths.

Your eyes meet his again. Your lashes flutter and Eren presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead after brushing away the hair plastered to it.

“Oh, yeah? It’s that good?” You nod lazily, your body jolting with the force of his thrusts. He takes one of your tits in his palm and squeezes hard. He lowers his mouth to yours, and you wet your lips in anticipation. “You gotta cum all over me then.”

You do. Ecstasy dances down your spine as you cry out his name. You squeeze your eyes shut as your clamp down on Eren’s cock. White flashes behind your eyelids like fireworks. You moan his name again and again and again and he tells you he knows, he knows, he knows. Your arousal drips down his shaft, leaving a glistening trail past his balls and onto the padded leather beneath you both.

“Good girl,” he coos. He brings the fingers circling your clit up to your lips, and you dart your tongue out to taste yourself.

His pace never relents, not even when you’re sobbing wildly. The aftershocks of your previous orgasm fade, and you’re already teetering on the edge of another. You wring your hands in the sweat-sodden material of his hoodie. You sob, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Already?” he tuts and laughs, his voice husky and low. He hums in approval before pinching your nipple tightly. The pain elicits a sweet, little cry from you. His voice is strangled when he asks, “Tell me what you need.”

“More, I need more, I need it harder,” you whine into his neck. You nuzzle into his collarbone, deeply inhaling his warm, vanilla cologne.

“You want harder? I’ll give you harder, you little slut,” he grunts as he hooks his arms under your knees, pinning them to your chest. The change in position angles his cock so deep into you, you can feel him in your throat. When you feel the head of his cock ram into your cervix, you shriek - half pain, half pleasure - and Eren swallows your cries with a wet and sloppy kiss, much like the mess between your legs.

Incoherent moans tumble from your mouth, your eyes find sanctuary in the back of your head and your wetness floods the seat below you. The sharp pain makes you gasp, makes your toes curl. The pads of Eren’s fingers are warm against your knees and his breath is searing against your neck. He continues to split you open on his cock, intent on ruining you on his lap.

He lifts his head to observe you, to admire your undoing. Your skin is sweaty and flushed, your lashes beaded with tears, your lips swollen and bitten. You’re a sight for sore eyes, a glimpse of heaven in his arms. Your eyes snap to his and you whimper in shame, mustering up the scraps of dignity you had remaining, shying away from the ferocity in his eyes.

Eren chuckles dryly at you. He calls your name. Once. Twice. You shake your head and bury it into your chest.

“Oh, no, no, no.” His hands come to rest on the back of your head, arms still hooked under your knees, and he roughly yanks your head back to look at him.

You gasp, “Eren-“

“Look at me.” Your eyes lock onto his. “Look at this.” He tilts your head down, maintaining his ruthless pace, “Look at you, baby, getting so wet for me.”

You laugh and sob, surveying the mess you’ve created. Your arousal is spread between your thighs - thick, slimy strings connecting your thighs to Eren’s. Your lips are stretched around his width, suctioning him into you with a lewd squelch. It’s so wet and sloppy and messy and it’s so, so perfect.

“Feels so- so, so good, baby, fuck,” you babble this out to Eren and he belts out his handsome, disarming laugh.

“Yeah? Bet it does.” You melt even further into his touch when he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

Watching yourself get split open by Eren sends you hurtling towards your release, so you breathe out a quiet, “Cumming.”

Eren chuckles, drops his lips to your ear, and murmurs, “Are you asking or telling me?”

You shake your head weakly. “Don’t make me beg.”

He chuckles quietly, deciding to take mercy on you. Eren sinks his teeth into your earlobe before he gives you a deep, hard thrust, and then commands you to, “Cum.”

Your legs go limp as the world stutters on its axis. The pleasure is mind-numbingly intense and white-hot bursts of relief wrack your body rhythmically. Your mouth gapes in a silent scream as Eren slams himself into your cervix again and again. Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and your head kills back onto his shoulder, too weak to watch yourself cum around him.

Your arousal, clear and copious, sprays everywhere in his car : his seat, the steering wheel, the windscreen, even your body. Eren moans at the sight of you squirting all over his car, you marking your territory. You shudder helplessly in his grasp, succumbing to the heat dousing your limbs. If not for Eren’s tight grip on you, you would have collapsed.

He keeps going, keeps thrusting, desperate to join you in the pleasure of orgasm. His thrusts become sloppier, but no less deep. You mewl with every pump of his hips against yours, overly sensitive and stimulated.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, strained and shaky, in your ear.

You moan at the thought of his hot, thick cum filling you up. “Inside, Eren, please, please, please-“

He cuts you off with a pained groan, “Fuck, you know I can’t do that.”

“Please, Eren, please,” you plead with him, your eyes wide and glassy, “Don’t I deserve it?”

His eyes snap shut and he lets out a shaky, ragged breath. “Shit, you’re making this really hard for me.” His hips pummel you faster, shallower, irregular, as if he’s losing his restraint.

Fuck it, he’s come this far, and he can’t say no to you. “You want it, baby? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I need it Eren, please give it to me,” you whimper desperately.

“Fuck,” he whines as he thrusts into you a final time, unloading himself into you. Sighing happily, you press a kiss to his cheek as you feel the warm spurts of cum paint your insides. He only pulls out when he stops pulsing inside you, wincing slightly.

Eren slumps against your shoulder, his chest rattling with every breath. Your hands tangle into his thick, chestnut hair. He grunts in approval. Quick, fleeting kisses are pressed to your shoulders and you shudder. Your movement reminds you of the mess between your legs, and you suddenly feel filthy.

“Eren,” your voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Eren’s response is muffled by your neck. “Yes, baby?”

You sniffle. “I’m messy,” Eren jerks up, seemingly rejuvenated after remembering the importance of aftercare.

“Shit, sorry, I’ll clean you up now,” he reaches for your hoodie and starts wiping at your inner thighs. He grins up at you over your shoulder - “You really made a mess huh?”

You shuffle awkwardly in his lap. You had squirted on his skylight, a mess was an understatement.

The corners of his lips pull upwards into a smirk, “Don’t worry about it, ‘m getting my car detailed anyway.” Humming when he’s deemed you clean, he rotates you so you’re eye to eye. His eyes twinkle with undulating lust as he wipes away your tears. “You good?”

You nod meekly, nuzzling his calloused palm.

He pinches your thigh. “Don’t get all shy on me now, you were being real loud earlier.” He tosses the hoodie into the backseat before placing kisses to both of your breasts. His brows pinch at the slightly pensive expression plastered on your face.

He tugs your hair lightly. “Do you want me to get you a Plan B? We can-“

“We were supposed to be talking, Eren,” you wring his hoodie in your hands.

A cocky grin spread across Eren’s face. “Oh, she was definitely talking to me,” he moves to cup your sex, but you swat his hand away. His smile drops at the deflated look in your face.

Sighing, you ask, “Are we ever going to talk about this?”

He frowns, brushing your hair out of your face. “I thought we were gonna forget about it? One time thing, you know?”

You sigh softly and slip your hands under the hem of his hoodie. As you run your hands along the ridges of Eren’s abdomen, his cock bobs.

“We can’t keep using that as an excuse to-“

“Do you regret it?”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up to meet his gaze and his eyes are glinting mischievously.

Squeezing your face between his fingers, Eren pulls your face towards his. His tongue slides along your bottom lip before he reclines. “Do you regret this? Us?”

You swallow.

You don’t respond.

But this time, Eren knows better.

He captures you in a slow, sloppy kiss. His lips meld to yours as he murmurs, “I don’t think we have to talk about anything then.” He sucks your bottom lip slowly, letting it swell in his mouth, before smirking impishly as he rasps, “Talking’s overrated.”

#eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #this is my baby #pls be nice #very new to this so idk what happens next #i need him #angel’s fics

[austinshotbutlers]

The Wedding Date

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister’s wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to your family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is… you don’t have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 3.8k

TW: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, swear words, bad writing? LOL

A/N: AHHHH! My first fic on here! This is based on the 2005 film of the same title. I literally love this film and I love the idea of Hotch posing as your fake boyfriend. Would anyone be up for a part 2?

The clock read 18:34. You should have finished 34 minutes ago. Everyone had gone home the minute the clock hit 6, the first day all week that the BAU had finished at a reasonable hour. Yet here you were, staring at the words ‘requested vacation confirmed’ which seemed to taunt you through the screen of your computer. It was all booked now, no going back. There was now no excuse for you not to go to your sister’s wedding next week. You sighed frustratedly before closing the tab and continuing with filing case reports that could definitely be saved for tomorrow but you didn’t want to go home, not just yet.

You typed aggressively at your keyboard. The thought of seeing your ex at your sister’s wedding made you more frustrated by the minute. How could she do this to you? Marry your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. Agree to your ex-boyfriend being the best man when you’re the maid of honour? Your fingers hit the keyboard harder and harder before the ringing of your phone drew you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw it was your mom. You took a deep breath before answering.

“Hi mom,” you said in your best fake happy voice.

“Hi sweetie! Just checking that your vacation has been approved for the big day.” She said over cheerily.

“Yeah mom its all…” you hesitated. “It’s all been approved and confirmed. You can tell Sarah I’m officially ready for maid of honour duties.”

“Oh that’s perfect.” Your mom said with a hint of relief in her voice. “I thought that silly job of yours would try and deny your vacation.”

You rolled your eyes as she once again ridiculed your job. She hated the idea of you chasing serial killers and rapists and every other sick bastard out there. She much preferred the idea of you having a more traditional 9-5, like your younger sister who was oh-so-perfect. Your mom was never a fan of your interest in murder and psychology and profiling when you were in high school. She was even less of a fan when she found out you were doing criminology and psychology at college. Then, when you went on to get your job working for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit, she expressed a dislike towards your career path choice but she did try to be interested in your work.

“Anyway, I just had some questions about your plus one.” Your mom said, getting back on track to the wedding. “Am I right in thinking you’re not bringing anyone?”

Before you could even think and stop yourself, the words came flying out of your mouth. “No mom… I’m actually bringing my boyfriend.”

‘Boyfriend?! What boyfriend?’ You frantically thought as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Oh honey, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Your mom sounded surprised. “Shall I add him to the guest list then?”

“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!”

“Oh…ok, bye sweetie” she said before you immediately hung up.

You put the phone down onto the desk and whispered ‘oh god’ under your breath. What were you going to do? How were your going to magically find a boyfriend to take to meet your family in less than a week? You stood up abruptly and turned around to be face to face to none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?” ***

Hotch signed his last case file report for the night and looked out his office window to see you sat at your desk. That stern look of concentration on your face that he found adorable as you typed at your computer. The rest of the team had gone home nearly 40 minutes ago yet you were still here. Why were you still here?

He turned back to his desk and started filing away the forms he had been reading and signing nearly all day and then turned to his computer to check his last few emails for the day. One in particular caught his eye that read your name in bold capitals. He clicked on it curiously and skimmed the contents which highlighted that you had been granted 5 days vacation time.

‘It’s good,’ he thought to himself as he packed away his papers and shut his computer down. You never used your vacation days so he’s glad you’re actually taking a break for once. He picked up his coat and headed towards the door of his office. He opened it and flicked the light switch of his office off and began walking down the stairs into the bullpen.

“No mom. I’m actually bringing my boyfriend.” Hotch heard you say into your phone and he faltered in his steps. ‘Boyfriend?’ He questioned. You had never mentioned a boyfriend before. He watched as you ran a hand through your hair, something you only do when you’re stressed or frustrated he noticed.

“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!” You said very quickly and hung up the phone. You placed the mobile device down onto your desk and paused before standing up and beginning to get ready to go home. You began to turn around and Hotch panicked. He had no time to move before you were standing face to face.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’re taking your boyfriend somewhere.” He replied and you cringed. “I’m sorry,” Hotch continued. “I really didn’t mean to intrude on your phone call.”

“Hotch it’s fine. Honestly!” You said to him and you could visibly see the tension leave his body. “It’s just a shame said boyfriend doesn’t exist.” You added. Oh god, were you really about to spill your guts to your boss?

“I’m sorry?” Hotch replied with a hint of confusion in his tone. Your face visibly cringed at his confusion and Aaron felt his heart squeeze a little at how adorable it was.

“I uh… I don’t actually have a boyfriend. I’ve just said it to make everyone think I’m seeing someone without thinking about the consequences.” You said and you watched Hocth’s eyebrows raise which prompted you to go on. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I really shouldn’t be burdening you with my inability to face my ex at my sister’s wedding.”

Now Aaron was really intrigued. “You can tell me but don’t feel like you have to. I know better than anyone that sometimes we want to keep personal matters to ourselves and away from work.”

You smiled at him, just his voice calming your nerves as you prepared to tell him everything. “So my ex is the best man at my sister’s wedding next week and I haven’t seen him in nearly two years. The day he dumped me, everyone thought he was going to propose and instead of a diamond ring, I ended up with a broken heart.” You cringed at your own words. “Sorry that was so cliché but I’m just dreading seeing him there and with his new girlfriend too. I don’t want him to see me still single, I don’t want him to see I haven’t moved on.”

Aaron listened intently to what you had to say. How could anyone dump you? You were beautiful, intelligent, funny. You were just perfect.

“My family haven’t mentioned him much, they all know it’s a fragile situation but just then, on the phone to my mom, her assuming I didn’t have a plus one just made me snap and before I could stop myself, I was telling her I was bringing a boyfriend.” You collapsed back down onto your desk chair, defeated. “And now I have to find someone to be my boyfriend.”

Aaron didn’t think, which was unusual for him, before he said “I’ll do it.”

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

He suddenly realised what he just said and hesitated before continuing to say “I’ll come to the wedding with you.”

“Hotch… no I couldn’t ask that of you.” You replied shaking your head. “You can’t leave Jack for 5 days. Also will you be able to get the time off? No I really can’t let you do this.”

“Y/N,” Aaron interrupted you. “I’m happy to help.”

You paused to think about it… it definitely would be you best option considering your predicament. But could you really spend 5 days with your boss pretending to be a couple? Your stoic, grumpy, handsome boss who you most definitely have a stupid, school girl crush on. You looked back up at him and locked your eyes with his before the word ‘Ok’ left your lips.

“Ok, lets do it. You pretend to be my boyfriend and I will spend the rest of my time at the BAU making it up to you.” You joke.

Aaron laughs lightly. “You don’t have to make up for anything. I want to help you out.”

***

You quickly unlocked the front door to your apartment and threw your bag down as you entered. You were now a woman on a mission. A mission to find the biggest wine glass in your apartment. You cracked open a new bottle of wine and poured a tall glass, drinking almost all of it in one gulp. What the hell had you just agreed to do? You grabbed your phone and texted the one person who you knew you could tell.

7: 48PM | Y/N L/N: SOS!!! Just agreed to do something truly insane.

7:49PM | Emily Prentiss: Uh-Oh this doesn’t sound good. What’s up?

7:51PM | Y/N L/N: Hotch may have heard a whole conversation with my mother and to cut a long story short, he is coming to my sister’s wedding pretending to be my boyfriend :/

You awaited Emily’s reply. What the fuck was she going to think?

7:55PM |Emily Prentiss: Sorry, I needed time to process what I just read. What the fuck? Are you actually insane?

7:56PM | Y/N L/N: Today officially confirmed my insanity. How the hell am I going to spend 5 days pretending to be in love with him?

7:58PM | Emily Prentiss: I mean it’s not going to be hard. You’ve been crushing on Hotch for like 6 months now. I’ve also had my suspicions that Hotch liked you and today definitely confirms that Hotch is so in love with you.

You couldn’t believe what Emily had just said, could Hotch really be in love with you? No, surely not.

8:01PM | Y/N L/N: Are you joking? Hotch does NOT have a crush on me. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t have silly crushes. And he said he was doing it to help me and I believe that.

8:03PM | Emily Prentiss: Ok, keep telling yourself that but when you both end up head over heels for one another, don’t get angry when I say I told you so.

You just rolled your eyes at her last text, picking up your wine glass to down the last little sip you had left. Now, you had to call your mom back to tell her the good news that your boyfriend was definitely coming to the wedding. Reluctantly dialling her number, you waited as it rung.

“Hi sweetheart, calling back to tell me your boyfriend is coming?” She asked immediately after answering.

“Yeah I am. He’s all set to come so add him down onto the guest list.” You replied. “I guess we will be seeing you next week then.”

“Don’t sound too excited.” Your mom teased. “I’m excited to meet this boyfriend now.”

“Ok, I better go mom, my…. My dinner is burning.” You lied. “I’ll see you next week, bye.”

Your mom barely had time to mutter the word ‘bye’ before you had hung up. You placed your phone down on the table and picked the bottle of win up, pouring more into your glass. You sipped at it more slowly than your first glass, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt as you nursed the dark red liquid. It was going to be a long week.

***

You saw him standing at the gate as you rushed through the airport terminal to meet Aaron. He appeared to visibly relax the moment he saw you as you rushed frantically through the airport with your carry on slung over your shoulder.

“Shit! Sorry I’m so late!” You exclaimed as you finally reached him. “My alarm didn’t go off and then I lost my boarding pass. Sorry for making you check in and go through security by yourself.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now.” He smiled. “Here let me take your bag.” Aaron reached his arm out and took the heavy carry on from your shoulder.

“Oh you really don’t have to carry it for me.” You blushed a little, in awe of how gentlemanly he is. “Thank you though. Are you sure it’s not to heavy?”

Aaron laughed. “Trust me Y/N, it’s fine.” He looked around to the gate and saw people beginning to queue up. “Come on, we better get ready to board.”

“Thank you again for agreeing to do this.” You said to him as you joined the queue. “It’s really helped me out, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, anything to help a friend in need.” Aaron replied. “So, anything I really need to know before we land in LA?”

“Just that my family are insane.” You joke and Aaron laughed lightly. “But my mom will definitely ask you about 50 questions as soon as she meets you so maybe lets set up our story. Where did we meet?”

“Easy, just tell them how we actually met for the first time.” Aaron said with a smile.

You blush a little remembering your first day at the BAU. “But it’s so embarrassing!”

Aaron laughs as you move up the queue and reach the desk, handing over your boarding passes and passports. The flight attendants speedily checked everything and set you on your way to board the plane. Aaron carefully placed your carry on in the overhead locker before doing the same with his own.

“My parents certainly spared no expense.” You said as you sat down, revelling in the luxury of first class. “I think my dad has paid for all of Sarah’s wedding.” You try to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Are you looking forward to going home?” Aaron asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I guess I’m excited to see my family, it has been nearly two years since I last saw them. After Luke dumped me… I kinda just left everyone in radio silence.” You took a deep breath. “I guess I just needed time to…”

“Heal.” Aaron finished your sentence, a tone of understanding in his voice.

You look him straight in the eyes and see a glimmer of hurt beneath his understanding. “Yeah… I mean we were together 5 years and he just ended it. Just like that.” You sighed before looking away from Aaron. “It’s just been difficult… blah enough of me complaining.” You mentally told yourself off. Who were you to complain? And to Aaron Hotchner of all people. The man who had been through what he had. You needed to stop.

***

Aaron pushed the trolley with all your suitcases piled on through the doors of the airport as you stepped out into the air of LA. You missed spending you summers here, it did feel nice to be home.

“My mom and dad said they’d pick us up. They should be somewhere.” You said to Aaron as you tried to look around for them. Suddenly, you saw them making their way over to the two of you excitedly. “Oh sweet Jesus.” You muttered to yourself.

“Oh my goodness! You’re finally back home!” Your mom squealed as she grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. “It’s been too long sweetie. I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Come on now Y/M/N, let me give my daughter a hug.” Your dad said as he tried to pry you from your mother’s suffocating embrace. “How is my buddy?”

You pulled a face at the nickname your dad hadn’t used since you were 12. “Dad I’m not 12 anymore.” You laughed and hugged him back. “I’ve missed you though.”

Aaron watched in awe as your parents made a fuss of you, something he never had when he was growing up but always said he would do for his own children. And once all the excitement had calmed down, both your mom and dad turned to face him.

“Oh my Y/N, he’s very handsome.” Your mom whispered a little too loud.

“This is my boyfriend Aaron.” You smiled as you moved to stand at his side, wrapping an arm round his back as Aaron moved his arm to sit round your waist.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N.” Aaron leaned forward to shake your dad’s hand but your mom slapped it away.

“There’s no need for such formalities Aaron!” She said. “It’s lovely to meet you! Although, I didn’t know you existed.” And she yanked Aaron in for one of her suffocating hugs.

“Mom you’re going to scare him away!” You said frustratedly and she let aaron go, letting him come and stand back by your side.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you all headed to the car. Aaron helped your dad pile all the suitcases in the trunk before he came and joined you in the back of the car, taking your hand in his. The drive was wonderful, being able to take in all the things you missed about LA while living in Washington.

“So Aaron, what do you do?” Your dad asked as he drove.

“I work at the BAU with Y/N. I’m the Unit Chief.” He replied, your hand still held tightly in his.

“Does that mean you’re her boss?” Your mom interjected.

“I am the leader of the BAU team but there are more people above me such as our Section Chief. But technically yes, I suppose I am Y/N’s boss.”

“Trust me though when I say no favouritism goes on in the BAU. He still bites my ass off if I step out of line.” You joke and your parents chuckled.

The conversation flowed well between your parents and Aaron, much to your relief and before you knew it, your dad was pulling into your driveway. You smiled as you took in your family home that you had missed.

“Home sweet home.” Your dad said as he turned the engine off and the unanimous sound of seatbelts unbuckling filled the car. You all began to climb out and Aaron immediately started lifting the bags out the trunk. You walked round to help him and cringed seeing all your suitcases.

“For someone who always has the smallest go bag, you packed a lot for this trip.” Aaron laughed as he placed down your last suitcase.

“Yeah I may have overpacked just a little.” You giggled and settled on carrying the smallest of all your bags into the house. Both you and aaron trekked up the stairs to your bedroom which you hadn’t stayed in in years.

“Wow mom. You really didn’t change a thing huh?” You muttered as you looked around the childhood bedroom. Pink walls blasting in your face, a Top Gun poster of the shirtless volleyball scene, magazine cuttings of Madonna in the 90s and a random A3 poster of George Clooney in his scrubs from ER. Aaron placed the last of the bags down and took in the obnoxiously decorated room.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to profile me based on my ill-taste in room decorating.” You laughed and Aaron laughed with you.

“It’s… it’s just not what I was expecting.” He said, once again looking around.

“And what were you expecting Agent Hotchner?” You teased.

“I guess I’m just shocked by the hot pink walls. I might have to put my sunglasses on.”

You lightly punched his arm which Aaron found adorable. “Shut up. It’s not that bright.” You rolled your eyes.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed and you picked it out your pocket.

3:36PM | Emily Prentiss: How’s it going? I’m guessing you’re in LA now.

You turned slightly so Aaron couldn’t see your phone even though he was busy unpacking.

3:38PM | Y/N L/N: It’s going surprisingly well. Everything has gone well with my parents. Only downside is that I’m having to subject Aaron to my awfully decorated room.

3:39PM | Emily Prentiss: Oooh it’s Aaron now is it?

3:41PM | Y/N L/N: Oh shut up. I have to go because we have to get ready for my sister’s engagement party. Kill me now. Hopefully I don’t see he who must not be named.

3:42PM | Emily Prentiss: Good luck and if in doubt, just make out with Hotch… or should I say Aaron?

You shook your head at her last text. Emily was loving your predicament a little too much. You turned back to Aaron, who was still busy unpacking, and your cheeks flushed a little at just how good he looked in his polo shirt, his arms flexing as he moved a suitcase. He then caught you looking at him.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

You snapped out of your school girl crush haze and focused your full attention to his questions. “Yes! Just my sister checking in, making sure we’re here and getting ready for the engagement party.”

“What time is the party?”

“5:30! So we have just under two hours to get ready. God, I better start unpacking to hunt down my dress and makeup.” You groaned.

As you began unzipping your cases and searching for everything you needed for the night, thoughts flooded your head.

Was this façade crazy? Yes. Yes it was.

Will this engagement party go smoothly? Probably not.

Is Luke still going to be a total dick? Oh most definitely.

Are you going to fall in love with Aaron?

‘Am I going to fall in love with Aaron?’ You thought once more and looked back over at him, sorting out his suit for tonight. Taking so much care to not disturb any of the clutter in your room, giving you the space you need to get ready, being just so… Aaron Hotchner, so perfect…

You were so fucked.

***

Part Two

#aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #fake dating #the wedding date

[teawithnosugar]

hiii! loooove your writing <3

Would you ever write a one-shot where reader has a bf but is sneaking around with Ellie and Ellie finally gets fed up with it, like why don’t you just leave him?? But then we find out reader is too afraid to dump him because maybe he hurts/threatens reader?

Idk I feel like this could sting but in the best way 🫣

Not Too Late

! Pairings ,' Ellie x Reader ! CW ,' angst/comfort....I think, abuse, cheating ! words ,' 0.9k ! synopsis ,' You aren't as unreasonable as Ellie originally thought ! song ,' Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley

"Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong"

! AN ,' I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, I KNOW I USUALLY GIVE SAD ENDINGS BUT IT FELT WRONG TO NOT GIVE THIS ONE A SOMEWHAT HAPPY END

“Jesus Christ, I remember this…” Ellie said with a grin as she looked at one of the pictures in the photo album you were holding. Together, bare on your bed, you nestled between her legs, her chin resting tenderly upon your shoulder. The warmth of her breath caressed your skin as she nuzzled her nose beneath your ear. You were both looking at pictures from your teenage years, specifically a picture you took with Ellie asleep on your shoulder while both Jesse and Dina drew on her face. You had been friends for years, madly in love for the majority of it. You giggled, smile faltering once you looked outside, the sun was setting which meant your boyfriend Dan would be home soon because unfortunately, the moment you and Ellie confessed your love for each other was 2 months into your relationship with a guy who was relatively new to Jackson.

“Why…why are you still with him?” Ellie asked softly. You both loved each other, she knew you didn’t love him, and you knew she was bound to ask this question sooner or later.

“It’s complicated Els-” 

“It’s not,” you began, only to be interrupted by her swift retort, her tone laced with an icy edge. She was right, you both knew it and she’s been patient with you for the past few months, she had given you the grace of time, patiently awaiting the words you never uttered. 

She untangled herself from you, standing up and picking up her clothes from the floor and starting to dress up. “Els please, give me time-”

“I’ve given you 9 goddamn months Y/N. If you were staying with him because you were pregnant you would’ve given birth by now. Why don’t you just leave him?”

She asked coldly, tying her shoes as she finished dressing up. You stayed quiet, hugging your knees tightly as you stared at the messy sheets. Words lingered on the tip of your tongue, desperate to reveal the way he wields his words like weapons, threatening your very existence. You stayed quiet because, your mind, painting vivid images of the horrors he would inflict on you if you even told him you wanted to leave.

She groaned frustratedly at your silence, walking out of your house and slamming the door shut. You sobbed softly as you started dressing up. She always came back to you after arguments, so you weren’t worried about that. You were just sad because you were hurting her.

When Dan came home, he immediately noticed a flannel on the floor, it wasn’t yours and it sure as hell wasn’t his. There’s no way you got it recently, you had been home for weeks, waiting for the bruises he gave you during your last fight to fade. It’s the reason Ellie even came over, she missed you, and now you missed her.

His fists struck with a brutal force, knocking you to the floor. Frozen in fear, you lay there, limp and defenseless—your body's automatic response. He unbuckled his belt then used it as a whip, the deafening sound the leather made against your skin filled your ears. Shades of crimson danced upon your flesh, an artist's palette of pain. And still, he persisted. When the belt had worn out its cruel dance, he returned to using his bare fists. Amidst the assault, thoughts slithered, attempting to justify his actions, to find reason in this madness. ’Maybe I’m disappointing him? Sometimes men get carried away when they feel like they should be having fun’ Such thoughts whispered in the recesses of your mind, clinging desperately to a semblance of understanding.

Minutes stretched into an eternity as you lay on the floor, broken and bruised. Tentatively, you rose, your trembling form cleaning the bloodstains from the floor, your body seeking refuge beneath the cascading water of the shower. This had become your grim reality—a cycle where beatings transformed from rare occurrences to nightly rituals upon Dan's return. He drained you of strength, providing the bare minimum sustenance required for survival, keeping you physically weak, your spirit tethered.

Days melted into one another, your existence confined to a bedridden state, waiting for Dan's return, awaiting his whims and desires. Initially, your thoughts lingered upon the pain you caused Ellie, but as your senses dulled over the weeks, those thoughts waned. They were replaced by an ache, a longing to see her face, to feel her presence. Dan's venomous threats reverberated in your ears, yet whenever you closed your eyes, all you could see was Ellie, her face shining like a beacon in the darkness.

She’ll come back, she always comes back.

Exhaustion seeped into your bones, prompting you to seek solace in sleep, still dressed in your sweater and pajamas. You saw her beautiful face, leaning close, whispering words that were muffled by the buzzing in your ears. A tender smile graced your lips as you beheld her beauty, there was no sight more enchanting. Once the grogginess and the buzzing in your ears faded, you realized this wasn’t a dream.

“Baby are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Els…?”

If you were in the right state, you would have enveloped her in your arms, holding her close. You would have nestled into her chest as she gently lifted you up. You would’ve seen Dan’s unconscious body by the doorframe of your bedroom. You would’ve noticed the relief on her face because she realized just how much worse you would’ve been if she hadn’t mustered up the courage to try talking to you again. You would’ve noticed the tears threatening to fall down her face because she wasn’t too late.

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader

[bgwlsmahf25]

Trending

Pairings: Wanda x reader; Tony x reader (platonic); Kate x reader (platonic); Yelena x reader (platonic)

Warnings: mention of Wanda’s time with HYDRA; little bit of angst, lot of fluff

Summary: A TikTok trend gets you and Wanda to admit your feelings for each other.

a/n: this was cute to write! First Wanda fic :) happy with it! Hope you enjoy

“Y/n!” You look up from the book you’re nose deep in to see Tony come into the common room area, Kate and Yelena behind him. He stopped by the sofa and looked confusedly at you. “You’re young. You know about this stuff.”

“Young?” You feigned offence, putting a hand on your chest. “I’m wounded, I’m actually 24.” There was a short pause. “Wait - what stuff?”

“TikTok.” You burst out laughing as the word came out of Tony’s mouth. The idea of Tony Stark on TikTok made you crease up laughing. The others watched you in amusement. “Don’t laugh. I’ve heard it’s very cool with the kids these days.”

“Did you borrow that phrase from Steve? Why are you coming to me about it anyway – can't Kate or Yelena...” Your voice trailed off as Yelena glared at you and Kate just shook her head. “Uh, ok, never mind. What do you need from it?”

“I want to know how to use it. I think it could be the missing link I’ve been looking for between uh, some projects and the digital age.”

“He wants Iron Man on TikTok,” Yelena said bluntly. “And he wants you to teach him how to do it.”

“Oh god...” you groaned as Tony looked impatiently at you. “Fine, yes, I’ll help you.”

***

“I hate this,” you moaned, staring frustratedly down at your laptop.

“What’s wrong?” The voice made you jump, and you looked around to see Wanda walking towards you. She had a mug in one hand and a book which you recognised as yours in the other.

“Wands what are you doing up? It’s late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” The witch shuffled awkwardly then sat down beside you. “What are you doing up?”

“Trying to edit a video for Tony. He’s obsessing over his page looking perfect.” You sighed. “And that means every video has to meet his standards.”

“Hmm.” Wanda leant towards you to look at the screen. You swallowed nervously and hoped she couldn’t hear how fast your heart was racing. Being around Wanda was both comforting and infuriating at the same time. You had feelings for the Sokovian ever since you were first introduced. Something about her shy smile and warm gaze drew you in and from that moment on the two of you were inseparable.

It had started out as a friendship. Wanda was your best friend and knowing how much she’d already been through made you determined not to make her endure anything more. But that turned into longing gazes and affectionate touches. Kate and Yelena had both tried to encourage you to make a move, yet you couldn’t seem to do it. You didn’t want to lose your best friend if she didn’t feel the same way that you felt about her.

“What’s this?” Wanda was pointing at the screen.

“Hmm, oh, probably just some trend.” Idly you clicked on it without really reading the words.

It was a girl and a boy dancing around in an empty car park. The words on the screen read: ‘able to take my best friend on dates because the world didn’t end when I was 16.’ You smiled, watching the video but beside you Wanda tensed and then swiftly exited the room. A moment later you looked over and noticed she was gone. “Wanda?” You stared back at the screen and then realised.

...the world didn’t end when I was 16 – Wanda and Pietro were 16 when the Avengers found them working with Ultron.

“Ah shit.” You closed the laptop and ran towards Wanda’s room. Giving a soft tap at the door, there was no answer. You waited a beat then knocked harder.

“Go away.” Her voice was muffled and sounded choked, and your heart leapt uncomfortably, realising she was upset.

“Wanda, can I come in?” You took the silence as a yes and entered her room. You’d always loved Wanda’s room, particularly after you encouraged her to make it her own. Fairy lights were strung around the place. Plants sat on the windowsill, gently tended to every day by the witch. Her bedspread was covered by two large blankets and an assortment of plushies, most of which you’d given her.

She was sitting on her bed, facing the wall, staring down at her hands. You sat down gently on the edge of the bed and put a hand gently on her shoulder. She tensed and then relaxed into your touch.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “It’s my fault, I didn’t read what the video said. I – I'm sorry, Wands.” She let out a breath and turned to face you. Immediately you reached up, wiping away a few stray tears. “Oh honey... I really am sorry. What can I do?”

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Please.”

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach and crawled onto the bed next to her. Leaning your back against the wall, you reached out and pulled her against you, wrapping your arms around her, her hands clinging to your wrists. She leant her head back into the crook of your neck and you kissed the top of her head softly.

“I really am sorry,” you murmured. “I won’t show you any more videos. I just got frustrated at Tony. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, it’s not your fault.” She shifted in your arms to look at you, you held eye contact for a moment then looked away. Wanda turned herself further and you moved away, your heart still racing. “Why do you do that?” She sounded hurt and you started to worry all over again. “Do what?”

“Move away from me. I’ve noticed it for a while now. I come and find you or I sit next to you, and you shift, you put space between you and me. I look at you, you smile and then you look away. What’s going on, y/n?”

You gulped. The only reason you did all that was to try and combat your feelings for your best friend. “I - I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” Wanda whispered. “We used to tell each other everything. But lately I don’t feel as if you are.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. Or – or resent me for anything.”

Wanda put a gentle hand on your cheek, turning your face so that you were forced to look at her. Her gaze was soft, her eyes searching yours. “I could never hate you, y/n. Please tell me what’s going on. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No! No, it’s not you, it’s me. I – I'm sorry Wands. I just – we’re best friends and I don’t know exactly when it happened but I – I have feelings for you,” you ended in a rush. “If you don’t feel like that, I totally understand and I will put it behind me, but please – I don’t want to lose you.”

A smile lit up your best friend’s face and you looked at her confused. Her thumb moved from your cheek to run gently across your bottom lip, making you gasp and look at her intently. “I have feelings for you too,” she whispered.

You leant in, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. Wanda tasted like cinnamon and apricots, and it was intoxicating. When air became an issue, you both pulled away, touching your forehead to hers and smiling gently at her.

“I get to love my best friend because my world didn’t end at 16,” Wanda whispered, making you blush. “I may have been HYDRA’s puppet, y/n, but my world didn’t end then, it began. I found you.”

“I love you too.” You pulled the witch into a hug, both of you falling onto her bed, arms wrapped around each other and smiles on your faces.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #marvel fic #marvel

[fish-eat-fish]

hiii! never requested anything before, but could you do something with pavitr from spiderverse? I don’t see people post about him as often!

GN reader please! but if not, that’s perfectly fine too, just ignore me. have a nice day!

⋆ Pavitr Prabhakar x gn!reader [Holding On] ⋆

tags: fluff, sneaking out, kisses

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i’m so slow w writing apologies.. i had no idea what to write for this but managed to persevere, he’s so cute enjoy o(｀ω´ )o

✰✰✰

“Okay, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had chai before?” Spoke Pavitr, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Like never ever? Ever?” He drew out, looking at you with desperation across the room.

You chuckled, repeating your statement.

“Never. I’ve just never tried it! I don’t know what more you want from me.” You whined, finding his reaction amusing. He held out his hands in front of him, clearly distressed at this piece of information. He muttered something you couldn’t understand to himself.

“Okay, tell me, what’s so great about this tea anyway?” You inquired, placing your pencil down. Assignment papers scattered around your desk as you gave up on studying for the fourth time. Pavitr sat with his legs crossed on your bed, comfortably sat.

“It’s only like the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted? It’s got this super creamy taste and it’s so flavorful! I can’t believe you haven’t tried it before. Seriously.” Pavitr crossed his arms, peering at you. He sighed, clearly confused. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you.

“What is it now?” You sighed.

Pavitr looked around the room, looking over at the papers on your desk, his mind working. He grinned as he looked at you. You knew he was up to something.

Your voice was suspicious, “Pav… No. Whatever it is, no.”

“...”

“Pavitr.” You warned.

“Come on! Listen, it’ll just be a super quick trip. Your parents won’t even notice that we’re gone.”

You couldn’t believe it. He was being so mischievous!

“Of course they’ll notice! We can’t go jumping out of my window every single time you come over.” You scolded, trying your best to not cave in. That was untill he pulled out the look. His pleading look.

You groaned, “No! No. Pav.”

“...”

“Ugh I hate when you do that!”

You groaned frustratedly. “Okay, just this once. But we have to be back before dinner.” You sighed trying to put out down some rules. Pavitr only chuckled at how easily you folded. He got up from your bed, reaching into his school bag to grab out his spidersuit.

You glanced at him as he changed, butterflies filling your stomach as you found yourself in this situation once again. Ever since you’d accidentally discovered his identity, you were scared he’d distance himself from you. But to your surprise, he was grateful to have at least one person in on his secret. And you definitely knew he liked to show off to you. It was definitely cute.

You turned away from him, grabbing a jacket and some spare money. Throwing your shoes on, you turned to Pavitr once he was finally done changing. He smiled proudly as he fixed up his suit, patting off any debris. He held his colorful red mask in his hand, grinning at you widely as leaned towards you, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You smiled at his contact, yanking your window open as you let him land on the fire escape as he exited through it. You slung a leg over the window sill, grabbing onto his shoulder to help balance as you followed behind him. Pavitr gave you a smug grin before fully pulling his mask over his face.

You looked him up and down, admiring him in the suit, “I like you in costume.”

Pavitr’s eyes widened through his mask, quiety flustered at your comment. “It’s technically a suit, not a costume.” He mumbled. You laughed at him as you reached up and slung your arms over his shoulder, holding on tight to him as he nervously placed his arm around your waist.

“You ready?” He asked with a gentle voice. Making sure you were comfortable. You nodded, your heart racing as Pavitr nodded, flinging his golden bangle up into the air, swinging it into the sky as it wrapped around a building. He gave you a reassuring nod before hoisting you and kicking off of the window, the two of you swinging with his web.

The busy sounds of the city filled your ears along with the wind that moved against the two of you. He hollered as you two flew deeper into the city, passing bridges and larger buildings. You involuntarily shut your eyes closed, still afraid of the height, even after having swung with Pavitr multiple times. You’d never understand how he felt safe doing what he did. As the two of you picked up speed as Pavitr swung, you clutched onto his shoulders tighter, hiding your face into his shoulder.

You heard a light chuckle from him as you felt the two of you travel across Mumbattan. Citizens shouted greetings to Pavitr, some of them gasping in astonishment and adoration. Even with all of the attention, Pavitr only paid attention to you, clutching onto you as tight as he could.

The two of you traveled through the city for what felt like forever (probably like five minutes, but you were nervous). Eventually, he swung onto the top of a building, holding onto you until the two of you stopped at a building’s rooftop.

Pavitr held onto your waist still, allowing you to move away from him on your own time. You cautiously unscrunched your face, looking up to see his colorful mask. You took a deep breath, recovering from the swinging and appreciating the stability a solid floor offered you.

Pavitr scanned over you, carefully moving his hands from your waist to your hands. He spoke in a gentle and smooth voice, “Holding up okay? We can always walk.” He rubbed circles onto the back of your hand as your adrenaline died down.

You smiled up at the masked boy, “Just catching my breath, I think I got a fly in my mouth.” You joked, lightly laughing. Pavitr chuckled, gesturing to his face, “Perks of the mask.”

Pavitr carefully let go of your hand, stepping away to peer down at the street below, scanning the area. He hummed in approval, reaching his hand out towards you, “The cafe is just a few blocks away. Are you okay to go?” Pavitr tilted his head slightly at you, a mannerism you found cute.

“Of course. I know you won’t drop me.”

Pavitr beamed at you, you could tell. Reaching up, you slung your arms behind Pavitr’s head, kissing his cheek through his mask before letting him grab you again. He giggled at your little gesture, nuzzling into your cheek as a kiss back. Throwing his bangle again, the two of you dropped as he swung across buildings.

Mustering the courage, you very bravely cranked your eyes open, breath hitching at the height the two of you swung, until you remembered you were with your boyfriend. Your superhero boyfriend who would never let you be in harms way. You felt a little lighter, enjoying the wind on your face. The beautiful architecture of Mumbattan illuminated by the sun’s shine took your breath away as you peered out.

This was a view to die for.

Pavitr turned his head, speaking to you midair.

“Almost there.”

You nodded into his shoulder, feeling the momentum of you both halt as he landed on a street. You let out a huff of air as you regained stability. Pavitr peeked into the shop, smiling at you through his mask. He gave your hand a quick squeeze, “Be right back with drinks.”

You watched as he pushed past the glass doors, being welcomed by the employees at the register. A sweet looking woman beamed at him. You couldn’t see what they were saying, but Pavitr seemed to be getting praised as the woman reached up to him, giving him kisses on the cheeks of his mask. He shook his hands and head in objection, reaching to grab his money. The woman shook her head, dismissing him instantly.

You chuckled at Pavitr as he defeatidly nodded. People passing on the streets stared in amazement at Spider-man. Excited chatter surrounded the cafe as people stopped by the window. It was hard not to feel proud of your boyfriend in that moment. To see him be so loved and adored by everyone just as you adored him. Walking off into an empty allyway, you waited for Pav.

He eventually slipped in, scanning behind him to see any stray fans. He walked over to you with two paper cups filled with hot chai in his hands. He sighed, “Sorry that took so long, had to take a lot of pictures.” You nodded, not minding.

“Could you hold these for me? Don’t worry they won’t spill.” He reassured you, passing the chai into your hands. He picked you up, clearly cheery about seeing you after that fiasco. You yelped, forgetting that Pavitr was super strong, “How chivalrous of you.” You teased, watching him shrug sheepishly.

He launched his bangle once again, hoisting you securely and swinging upwards. Clutching onto the cups with one arm, you held onto his shoulder with the other arm. As the two of you swung, gaining momentum, he spotted a particular building he liked. You watched as the two of you rose higher and higher. Pavitr smiled under his mask, placing you down carefully.

You looked around curiously, recognizing the building you stood on.

You peered out, catching the sunset from this elevation, “Whoa.”

Pavitr shrugged, “Nice right? I sit here to catch the sunset a lot, thought you’d like it…” His voice died down as he stared at you from the side, words empty as he saw you engulfed in golden light. In moments like these, he always felt overwhelmed by your bare existence and beauty. His heart raced as you turned to look at him, grinning.

“This is, um, beautiful. Thank you for bringing me up here.”

“No problem… anything for you.” He mumbled.

You sat down on the roof, setting the chai down carefully. Pavitr instantly followed you, sitting down next to you with his legs crossed. He felt proud for bringing you out here, sharing this spot with you. You leaned against his shoulder, unable to take your eyes off of the horizon and the way it lit up Mumbattan. “I can’t believe I’ve never paid attention to the sunset like this,” you admitted. Pavitr nodded.

He gazed over at you, unable to focus. How was he suppose to take in the view around him when you were right there?

Breaking your serene moment, you turned to look at Pavitr back, eyeing him with a smile. “You’re awfully quiet,” you pointed out, grinning. He didn’t speak, just staring at you through his mask. Something was up with him, and you were unsure of what he was thinking in the moment.

As he shuffled, he reached up to his face, pulling his mask up halfway, leaning into you with his body as he kissed you suddenly, hand placed at the curve of your back to pull you in closer. Getting over your initial surprise, you melted into him. He smiled into the kiss, blushing at the way your lips felt against his. He gently pulled back, ignoring the fact that you stared up at him in surprise, mouth slightly agape.

You steadied yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, “What… what was that about?” You muttered, feeling nervous with Pavitr’s gaze on you, even through his mask. You could tell he was scanning across your features, an innocent smile plastered across the half of his face that was exposed. He had caught you off guard. His stomach fluttered at the unusually close proximity.

His soft giggle snapped you back into the moment, “I just wanted to kiss you, is all.”

Letting the hand on your cheek to fall to his side, he picked up a cup of chai, blowing on it gently before taking a sip, sighing in satisfaction at the taste. He urged you to try yours, handing you your cup.

Recovering from Pavitr’s sneaky move, you took the cup. Bringing it up to your lips, taking an eager sip, accidentally scalding your tongue.

Pav looked over at you in shock, “Careful!”

You made a scrunched up expression which he chuckled at, watching you blow on the drink this time. As you took a more cautious sip, your face lit up at the taste. Humming in approval, you continued to drink it.

“You were right! This is… amazing. Wow.”

He leaned down a little closer to you,“Don’t ever question my judgement.” He scolded playfully.

Pavitr continued to drink from his cup, smiling at the moment the two of you were sharing. He let go of your waist, placing both hands on his cup. You looked over to him, his tan features engulfed in golden sun. You were in awe at your amazing boyfriend. His head fell onto your shoulder, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence and enjoying a hot drink as the sun lowered.

The two of you would definitely spend too much time sitting there at the rooftop, never wanting to leave the view. Of course, Pavitr would swing you back over to your house just in time. The two of you seated back at your desk and bed, acting like you had continued studying together when your parents entered the room to check in on you both. Pavitr gave you a sly look after, continuing to work on his paper.

Having Spiderman be your boyfriend had its perks.

✰✰✰

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfic #pavitr x reader #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x you

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2023 Day Six

Love Bites

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

Soap linked his fingers together around Ghost’s neck, the skin warm under his palms as he tried to pull Simon even closer to him. Ghost grunted into the kiss, a warning as Soap toyed with the mask, riled up on the back of Ghost’s head from where he’d pushed it over his nose so that he and Soap could mash their mouths against each other’s. Soap held on tight to Ghost’s neck as Ghost pawed frustratedly at his gear, wanting access to more of Soap’s skin, which was sealed away inside the tactical suit. 

Ghost’s kisses were leaving Soap breathless, his knees weakening as Ghost used every part of his body to cage Soap against the wall. Soap was desperate for more, chasing Ghost for his kisses, his own need to breathe be damned. 

Soap couldn’t get enough of Ghost. He would take everything Ghost would give him. He’d told him that so many times; so why was Ghost catching himself, pulling away from Soap a moment too soon, yet again?

“Ghost…” Soap’s voice rasped. 

So did Ghost’s, “shut the fuck up, Johnny. Don’t start that shit again, not now. We don’t have the time.”

“Bullshit, we do.” 

“It’s fucking weird, Soap. Just… leave it.” 

“What is? That I want to know why my boyfriend suddenly stops kissing me?” Soap braced his legs against the floor, pushing himself up as tall as he could, under the circumstances. 

“The thing… the thing that I stop myself doing is weird.” 

“Says you.”

“Because it is weird, that’s not up for debate.” 

“I like weird.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“I like you, Simon…” Johnny pressed himself close to Ghost, “is that not proof enough?”

“You’re a wanker.” 

“So are you. Now, what’s up?”

“No. You’ll fucking hate it, and think I’m weird, and we won’t be able to keep doing this.”

“Tell me, or we won’t keep doing this, regardless.”

Ghost drew in a sharp breath, his lips parted as he stared down at Soap.

“You walked into that one, Si. Now, talk to me.”

Ghost’s tongue darted out between his lips, catching on his teeth before he dropped his head down so far that Soap couldn’t see his eyes. 

“I like… biting. Stuff. Not hard, like I’d hurt you, or anything. Just… enough to feel something between my teeth…” He shook his head, his grip loosening on Soap. “And now I sound like a fucking serial killer.”

“Biting’s not that weird, Si.” 

“Yes it is.” Ghost twisted his head to the side as Soap tried to cup his chin.

“Nothing wrong with having an oral fixation. Or marking things that belong to you.”

Ghost snorted lightly. “Shut up.”

“Nah. Bite me.” Soap managed to grab Ghost’s chin, and pushed his head up. “Go on.”

Ghost parted his lips, his tongue held between his teeth, eyes fixed on Soap’s lips. “You sure?”

“If I have to tell you again…” 

“Fucking hell, I get it.” Ghost muttered, pulling the mask off entirely before grabbing Soap’s face to hold him still so Ghost could get Soap’s bottom between his teeth, gently nipping at it. When Soap didn’t protest, he went back in, tugging on it, and again, harder, before letting it go and kissing him.

“Better?”

“... Want more.” 

“Do we have time for more?”

“Some of us can keep it in our pants, Soap.” Ghost ground his hips forward against Soap’s, the tight suits doing nothing for Soap’s erection. “Just from that? You’re easy.”

Soap shoved his hips right back. “You do it to me.”

“You asked.”

“You want more.”

“Yes, I do.” Ghost pulled Soap’s head forward, shoving his face into Ghost’s shoulder as Ghost reached around his head to undo the neck of Soap’s tactical gear. He pulled it down to find the skin between Soap’s shoulder and neck, running his lips over it before widening his jaw and biting down. 

Soap whined, still pushing his body against Ghost as he took a hold of Soap’s chin and tilted his head to the side, giving Ghost better access to his skin as he looked for a new place to bite, rolling his tongue against the skin both before and after to soothe him. 

Soap was rutting against Ghost’s thigh, apparently so desperately turned on by being fucking bitten, that Ghost felt stupid that he’d ever hesitated to tell him. He stroked the side of Soap’s face, too fixed on leaving marks that would bruise on Soap’s skin to stop and talk Soap through what he was doing. Soap would just have to make do with Ghost’s leg, which was wedged firmly between Soap’s own, allowing him to take care of himself, which he was doing, as he had started clutching Ghost’s shoulders. 

Soap’s neck was so damn biteable. Fucking hell, there he was being weird again. Ghost cupped Soap’s head again, rolling it over to the other side, Soap’s eyes fluttering closed as he struggled to maintain his rhythm on Ghost’s thigh, especially when Ghost bit down on the other side of his neck. Ghost stayed there, holding Soap close to him in every way possible, until half a second later as Soap’s body seized under him. Ghost let go of him, startled as Soap shoved his own hand over his mouth to hide his groans. He might have been able to do that, but he couldn’t hide that he’d just cum in his pants. 

Ghost chuckled, leaning down to nibble on Soap’s fingertips as Soap rode it out, gladly taking the fingers inside his mouth when Soap pushed them in as he relaxed. 

“Fucking hell, you look good sucking on my…”

Ghost carefully bit down on Soap’s fingers for a second, a warning as he met Soap’s eyes. 

“Not going to be visible. The marks.”

“They will be tomorrow. Unless you plan on wearing this for the rest of your life.” Ghost pushed Soap’s fingers out of his mouth with his tongue, stepping away from Soap as he pulled the mask back on. 

“Keep that up and I just might.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Johnny.” 

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #cod kinktober #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod soap #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #love bites #kinktober day six

[bellaxgiornata]

Sharing another snippet from the MASSIVE upcoming smupdate for Falling For the Devil because y'all wanted me to. You can find the other teaser for this upcoming installment with Super Soft Matthew here if you missed when I shared it (for those new to FFTD I have affectionately named certain sides of Matt). I'm half done writing this installment and I've mentioned this beast of filth stands at 9k words unedited so far. When I joked this would turn into a 20k word installment, it wasn't entirely a joke...

For context of the small snippet below (which is just a piece of the larger scene that is only one of SEVEN scenes), Matt comes back from his night out as Daredevil. He's clearly had a bad night when he comes home. Reader quietly watches him frustratedly undress out of his suit in front of her before heading to the shower. And then Reader encounters said frustrated Feral Devil in the shower after to help him relive that stress and let the Devil out a little....

The snippet is below the cut and it is UNEDITED still.

You turned around, sliding the shower door closed after yourself as some of the warm spray overhead began to cascade down your back. A surprised gasp fell out of you when you felt Matt’s hands suddenly grabbing your hips, his fingers firmly digging into your skin. Even you felt the way your pulse stuttered in response, his chin hovering just over your left shoulder. “Are you sure?” the dark, gravelly voice you knew as the Devil asked, his mouth just beside your ear. “Because I have no desire to be gentle tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” You inhaled a deep breath, excitement shooting through you at his words and the tone he’d spoken them with. It had been far too long since he’d let himself loose with you like this. Turning your head just over your shoulder, you spotted the wild look in his eyes. That only thrilled you further. “I’ve told you before, Matty,” you whispered back. “Sometimes I like when you hurt me.” His fingers dug into your hips even further, his lips pulling back into something akin to an animalistic snarl. A second later he’d shoved you up against the shower door, the cold glass pressed entirely to the front of you a sharp contrast to the warm water falling down your body. You could feel the heat from Matt’s naked body radiating off of him with how close he was standing behind you now, but it wasn't quite close enough to touch yours. “You can say no,” Matt’s deep voice reminded you. Head still turned over your shoulder, your cheek pressed against the glass of the shower door, your eyes remained fixed on his face.  “But I’m saying yes,” you whispered back. A growl tore out of Matt as he yanked you away from the door, roughly turning you around towards himself before he slammed his mouth hard onto yours. His hands snaked their way around to your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he drew you in tight, crushing you to the front of himself. You could feel his already hard cock pressed between your slick bodies as his teeth gnashed at your bottom lip. A hiss of pleasure slipped from your mouth as your hands flew up, your own nails clawing at his thick biceps that held you firmly to him. Matt’s mouth quickly retreated from yours, his teeth snapping at your earlobe before shifting downwards to your neck. As your head fell back over your shoulders, your eyes closing, you felt him nipping along the length of your collarbone. The sharpness of his bites was quickly soothed by the warm water running down the pair of you, Matt’s name slipping from between your lips as a moan.

#fftd teaser #matt murdock smut #matt murdock #Daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x f!reader

[soggy-platee]

Trade Mistakes Pt. 2/3

Sorry y'all! I am going to finish this fic, it's just going to be in three parts!

...

Din was seething. 

The hunt had gone wrong, more than wrong. His normal stoic exterior had continually faltered, and in turn his strength failed. His blue-skinned bounty, several times, broke free from his grip on the long march back to the ship. 

The creature, which would have never usually caused him a problem, dug into his fraying nerves. The creature continually speaking, his snake tongue flipping as he taunted Din- 

“Come on, just one more woman before I go!”, the man yelled loudly, the sound coming out sharp through the speakers on Din’s helmet. Unsurprisingly, the bounty had come from a brothel owner. The piece of trash currently in his cuffs had racked up both unpaid debts and unanswered violations of the owner’s brothel on Bespin. 

“You probably just don’t get it, being a Mando and all. ‘Denial of the flesh’ and all that…”

He trailed off, trying to wrench his head around to stare Din in the helmet as he pushed him along. 

“Hell, have you ever been with a woman, Mando? Can’t imagine it would be easy with all that Beskar, I’d be happy to take it off your hands if its getting in your way-” 

Din’s fist met the bounty nose before he could finish, resulting in a defining crunch only a second before crimson blood began to flow. 

Over the pained cries, Din frustratedly tried to calm himself. 

It was rare he got this way with a bounty. He was used to the constant abuse from his bounties, but since you joined him, things were different. 

You- with your kind eyes that seemed to cut right through him- set him on edge. 

The threats the bounty made, once meaningless, now made Din’s mind conjure images of you in danger- in pain. And that was not something he could take lightly, despite his continual attempts to purge you from his mind. 

The glint of the Razor Crest on the horizon drew a sharp exhale, emerging through Din’s modulator like a hiss. At least he was close. Close to getting this idiot on ice, closer to the kid, closer to- 

He couldn’t let those thoughts pervade his mind now, not when he was this was this close to being done with this shit. 

…

Din had done the same thing he had always done. Unable to have a normal conversation with you, the movement you had brought up his pent-up anger, he stormed off like some foundling.  He knew it was wrong, stupid, even, to leave things off with you on such bad terms. You just wanted to know- to take care of him- 

But he couldn't afford that type of intimacy, not when he bounties to hunt, not when he had the child to protect. He couldn’t help but get lost in thought, though. Lost in the idea of letting you in, letting you finally see all the damage you were so desperate to see, so desperate to fix. 

Din let himself drift in thought, eyes unfocusing through his helmet visor as the stars rushed by. It had been so hard since you came on board. Usually, his emotional detachment came naturally. He could shut off his emotions for days at a time. But ever since the child, he had become hyper aware of his emotional state. The kid could just tell, locking his big, black eyes with Din any time something was troubling him. 

And you. 

At least the child couldn’t call him out for his shitty behavior. You, on the other hand. He couldn't stand your constant commenting. You had picked up on his behavioral patterns instantly. 

All you wanted to do was help him, comfort him. But he just couldn’t take being known as deeply as you seemed to know him. It disarmed him, left him naked and shaking under your gaze. You seemed to tear down his defenses without even knowing, and that was what scared him. You had no idea the effect you had on him, no idea how easily he would slide off the helmet if you simply asked- 

A hollow thud rang out through the hull, modulating through Din’s helmet and pulling him from his dangerous thoughts. 

He didn’t jump- that reaction was beat out of him long ago- but that didn’t stop his heart rate from kicking up. Regardless of what caused it, he still knew it was you down there, moving about, taking care of the- his- child. The idea of it brought a blush to his hidden cheeks. 

Then, silence. He let out a deep breath. You probably had just knocked over some boxes; maker knows the lights in the hull could hardly be called lights. Nothing could be wrong. After all, this was the one place he didn’t have to worry about your safety. The ship was safe for you, even if it was so much less than you deserved.

Just as he settled, focusing back on the star charts in front of him, another sound rang out from below him. 

The sound was subtle, soft. He couldn’t identify it at first. It was light, but loud. As the final notes rang through this helmet, something clicked. 

The carbonite. 

Before Din could think, he was out of his chair and wrenching the cockpit hatch open and leaping down. 

…

You were convinced that the smell of sweat and the visions of cruel eyes was the last thing you would ever see. Your visioned darkened, quicker then you ever thought it could, before the sound of metal and metal had you wrenching your eyes to the side. 

Before you could even register the source of the noise, the pressure on your throat vanished in an instant along with the weight holding you down. 

You gasped, hands going up to hold your bruised neck as your eyes swam with tears. You heard a loud bang, followed by quick footsteps and quiet groans. Just as you pulled yourself onto one elbow, you heard another loud crash. 

As your vision cleared and you gasped through a battered windpipe, you saw the outline of the mandalorian standing over what you recognized as your attacker. The blue-skinned man was resting among a pile of titled crates, clearly having been thrown there by your employer. 

The man made brief eye contact with you before turning his attention to the hulking pile of beskar stalking toward him. He opened his mouth, swallowing hard before screeching, “S-Sorry Mando- I didn’t know she was spoken for!-”

The mandalorian threw out a metal fist, meeting the man’s nose with a sickening crunch. Blue blood poured from his nose as he desperately tried to hide himself among the strewn supplies. 

You gasped at the sudden strike, and Mando's expressionless helmet whipped around to stare at you. Unable to do much else, you simply continued to breathe with your own hands wrapped around your battered neck. He lingered for a moment, and you swore you could feel his eyes dart betweeny our neck and watery eyes before he turned and grabbed the bounty by his ankle. 

The Mandalorian drug the now-cowering man out of his hiding place, nearly throwing him into the center of the hull as he landed stomach-down just feet from you. Before the blue man had a moment to recover, Mando threw a leg over his back and bent down; grabbing his greasy hair and wrenching his face to look at your still-prone form. 

You flinched back, still scared of the man who was choking you mere minutes ago. Finally, you managed to open your mouth and began to ask what was happening when a gravelly voice rang out- 

“Apologize”

You sat there on the floor, shocked. 

Then another- “APOLOGIZE”, followed by Mando sharply wrenching the man’s hair further into his grip. 

“I’m Sorry!”, came the man’s desperate reply. 

“Good.” Said Mando, before slamming the man’s face into the metal below, firmly knocking him out. 

@batw3nch @orcasoul @wreckmyimage @encephalitiskat @chibi @itsavicf @eephemeraa

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #ao3 #mandalorian fanfic

[yeah-ima-nerd]

ALR SO HEAR ME OUT-

Teekl who instantly likes s/o and always takes their attention away from klarion leading to klarion being clingy to reader while reader just gives him all of the affection and love he wants

Alr here it is! :3 I'ma warn you, it's pretty cute!

Teekl rubbed up against your leg as you picked her up and scratched her small tummy. "Who's a good kitten?" You coo'ed to her, while she purred as loud as a tractor. You placed her on your lap while you scrolled on your smartphone. Teekl instantly was attached to you when you met Klarion. She always cuddled with you on the couch. She was VERY affectionate when it came to you. Klarion frowned looking at you and Teekl. "What?" You asked. He pointed at Teekl. You shrugged and stroked her more. "What about mee?" He drew out his letters making a puppy dog face. Irresistible, really. "What are you talking about?" He walked up to you picking Teekl off your lap and laying across you." That's better, he stretched out, nearly falling asleep. You rolled your eyes playfully, then drawing your attention back to your phone. Teekl hissed a little, jumping up and laying on Klar's face. "Teekl!" He yelled putting her on the ground again, sitting up now and folding his arms. "Stupid cat." Teekl glared back at him, and before Klarion relaxed again, she jumped straight back up on you. "Stop it Teekl!" He exclaimed frustratedly."Guys stop, I can love you both equally!" They didn't listen and still fought over you. Teekl meowed at Klarion and then he gasped. "HOW DARE YOU! Who taught you to act like that!" "Oh right, me." He frowned folding his arms. Then grabbing you and pulling you closer. Taking you by surprise. "Ha! Take that Teekl, you don't have arms!" He stuck his tongue out at her, then continuing to hold you close as if you were a doll. Teekl tugged on your pants-cuff and made an irresistible face which prompted you to pick her up. "Aww!" You squealed. She purred, getting cozy. "Huh?!" Klarion looked, angry. He was about to push her off of you again. But you stopped him. "No more arguing, I love you both equally. If you start arguing again, I'm just leaving." You threatened. "Fine..." Klarion agreed, followed by a meow. You sighed of relief and stroked both Teekl and Klarion.

#klarion bleak #klarion #klarion the witch boy #teekl #yj klarion #yj teekl #young justice #klarion x y/n #klarion x reader

[lesbruabba]

More Than Skin Deep

A conversation about old wounds; written for @fugio-week0 day 4: Healing

"Does it still hurt you?"

The question could have referred to any number of things, none of which he was prepared to think about, let alone answer. Having startled in response to the voice that asked it, despite its gentle tone, Fugo blinked while looking up from the array of papers beneath his fingertips, scattered across the surface of the desk. Financial information on a variety of Passione-managed businesses; the kind of thing he was good at managing. 

The kind of thing he'd decided the young man before him shouldn't have to think about.

Giorno Giovanna may as well have appeared out of thin air – or maybe Fugo had just been distracted. It always amazed him how Giorno could manage to have such a large amount of presence, but still somehow go unnoticed until the very moment he wanted to be and finally drew attention to himself. There was no missing him now, standing with his hands folded before him and eyes fixed on Fugo with a strange intensity that caused him to force back a shudder. 

"Huh?" Was Fugos first, incredibly intelligent response, but as he cleared his throat and awkwardly raised a hand to scratch it, it became painfully clear what Giorno was referring to. The skin there was raised beneath his fingertips, a raw and still unfamiliar texture that somehow seemed to crawl beneath Giorno's searching gaze. 

"Oh – no. No, don't. . .don't worry about it," he muttered, tacking the sentence on in a futile attempt to not look like an idiot while looking back down towards his papers. For some strange reason, his heart continued to race, and he found himself incapable of focusing on the numbers on the page. 

No longer unnoticed, Giorno's quiet steps drew closer as he approached the desk where Fugo worked. With every inch that closed between them, he could almost feel the distance shortening, something about that causing his breath to catch and hold in his chest. Why’s he doing that? Coming closer, asking questions – surely the young mafia boss had more important things to worry about than him. Unless he’d done something wrong – shit, Fugo hadn’t managed to fuck up somehow, had he? Fingers tightened around the pen in his grip hard enough to cause it to bend beneath his fingers, threatening to snap. Where it brushed the paper, the nib shook, leaving behind jagged and messy purple lines Fugo would later have to frustratedly try to cover.

The footsteps stilled, just on the opposite side of the desk. Then, a shuffling sound, and a quiet disturbance as something nearby shifted just a fraction – He’s sitting on the desk. Swallowing hard, Fugo finally pried his eyes from the paper in order to slowly look up. Giorno had indeed settled lightly on the desk in front of him, facing away with his legs crossed and one hand resting on a knee. The other was braced against the desk beside him, and his face was turned in Fugo’s direction, slightly tilted to the side as eyes that were too bright and unreadable looked directly towards Fugo’s face. Immediately, he looked back down, only for his gaze to flicker back to Giorno’s face in the very next moment as he began to speak. “You were touching them – your scars, I mean. I couldn’t help but notice. You do it a lot.” Shit, did he? Fugo didn’t think so, but he couldn’t deny having had to suppress the immediate urge to reach for the network of scar tissue around the corners of his mouth. It stretched from there down the underside of his jaw and partially down the expanse of his throat, and it took every bit of self control not to press a palm against his neck out of desire to hide even a small fraction.

“Sorry,” he said reflexively, then immediately grimaced and looked away. “But – no. No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels . . . weird, sometimes, like any scar does. But it doesn’t hurt. Not since you . . . healed it, anyway . . .” His voice had trailed off into a mumble, then cut off completely as Giorno’s hand suddenly removed itself from the table and reached out. Not only out, but towards him – Part of Fugo wanted to lean back and away. Another, one that would have been louder had he been speaking to anyone else, wanted to snap that hands should be kept to themselves if their owner wanted to keep them.

As it was, he simply sat stock-still as Giorno’s fingers moved, quickly and confidently, to brush against the side of his face. Right on the edge of the scarring, they lingered for several moments as their owner’s brow furrowed. “. . . I’m sorry,” he murmured, to Fugo’s complete surprise, and he felt a muscle in his cheek twitch. “I wish I’d been able to do a better job.” “What the hell are you talking about?!” the words escaped from his mouth in an immediate rush, and Fugo’s face immediately went red as he clicked his jaw back shut. Emotion had reached a boil quickly and escaped his chest before he could contain it, and it took a few moments to fight back even a fraction. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. But. . .saying that. . . just doesn’t make any sense.” As he’d spoken, he’d looked briefly back to Giorno, but grimaced while looking again towards his hand. The pen had fallen at some point from his hand, which remained half-clenched into an angry claw. Ink droplets trailed across the paper. “Not when you’re . . . the only reason it’s as healed as it is already. Which is more than . . .” Giorno hadn’t allowed his hand to fall. For what reason, Fugo didn’t know, other than perhaps an awkward lack of understanding of the definition of personal space. He was quiet for a moment, then frowned while prompting “. . . More than what?”

Pulling back a fraction, Fugo shook his head. “Nothing. It’s – it’s nothing.”

Slowly, Giorno’s hand lowered, bracing against the desk once more as his torso turned further in Fugo’s direction. The look in his eyes was – strange, to say the least, and incredibly disconcerting. Fugo didn’t like to think about what it might be seeing.

“. . . What you deserved? Is that what you were going to say?”

Disfigured lips pressed into a thin line, Fugo swallowed. His hand had clenched into a fist. “. . . Just – it was more than you had to do,” he finally muttered. “Fixing my side and my mouth . . .I didn’t know if I was going to be able to eat or smell normally ever again, and if I did, how long it was going to take. So . . .”

As if it meant anything, he finished his statement with a shrug. With any luck, Giorno would just let it go and walk away . . .

But that incredibly perceptive, curious look remained fixed upon him, and with that same gentle persistence Fugo had come to both admire and detest, he said “so you think I shouldn’t have bothered.” “No –” Mouth open, Fugo hesitated. “. . . You think that I should think it wasn’t worth the effort or time?” Shit, he was doing it again. That same, disorienting deconstructing of an otherwise spiraling thought process that put thoughts into words that Fugo never would have been able to parse out on his own. It was like being laid bare – dissected – and he couldn’t help but shift awkward and uncomfortably in place. Letting out a rush of air, he found himself asking “. . .Well? Why don’t you?” For once, Giorno looked taken aback. “I should want you to be in pain?” he shook his head, brows knit together as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly downwards. “Why?”

Their hands were only a matter of inches apart on the desk. It wouldn’t be hard for Giorno to reach over and press his hand over Fugo’s fist – of course, doing that might cause him to lose his balance and fall over, so obviously he wouldn’t. But – well. It should be easy for Fugo to unclench his fingers and reach out to do the same. Shouldn’t it? He didn’t. “. . . Shouldn’t I deserve it? Wouldn’t that be . . . common sense? After everything I did – or, I guess, didn’t do.” His voice was stronger than he’d expected it to be as he lifted his head and managed to meet Giorno’s eyes. What he found there, though he couldn’t name it, stole the air from his lungs just as much as always. The vision of Giorno before him was perfect, also just as always, save the little detail of his expression.

He was frowning, but the expression wasn’t tense or angry. Tilting his head again to the side, he lifted his hand, and reached once more for Fugo’s face. It didn’t so much as occur to him to pull away this time, already prepared for the feeling of fingertips or the brush of a knuckle across the raised, scarred skin. What he felt, instead, was the length of Giorno’s palm, settled against his cheek as he held it. Neither avoiding nor focusing entirely on the scars, he brushed a thumb just barely across them.

Giorno’s lips parted, but at first nothing came out. Something flashed in his eyes that might have been a kind of panic, if Giorno were capable of feeling things like that. Like flashes on the surface of water, his emotions were too difficult for Fugo to read – so what was the point of trying? “. . . Do you really think so?” he asked, and something in his voice was pained. Shaking his head, he was quiet for another moment, then said simply “. . . I don’t.” Pressing ever so slightly against the touch of that warm, gentle hand, Fugo felt his lip begin to tremble. Shouldn’t I? He didn’t manage to say, words sticking in his throat along with emotion. It was all he could do just to breathe. Yet, somehow, the effort not put into speaking allowed him to convince his hand to move. Slowly uncurled, leaving the indentation of nails against his palms, he reached up and gently laid his hand over Giorno’s where it rested on his face. “. . .Then . . . I don’t, either,” he mumbled, though it made no sense at all. There were no powers being used, but a warmth spread nonetheless from everywhere Giorno’s fingers touched, sending life and drive throughout his entire body. In that moment, he wanted so badly to tell him. Maybe one day, he would. He would tell him just how much more he’d been able to heal than skin.

#jjba pt 5 #jjba vento auero #giorno giovanna #pannacotta fugo #fugio #fugio week 2023 #purple haze feedback #zero days since i last went insane about purple haze feedback

[the-lone-writer94]

We'll Meet Again (Part 9)

Rex Brown x Female Reader

Summary: With time against you and Rex, will he be able to stop you from boarding the plane and leaving for good?

Age rating: 13+ *No warnings*

Word count: 1,018

*A shorter chapter just because I wanted the story to be an even 10 chapters lol (I'm weird like that)*

I slammed down onto the play button on my cassette player, as I allowed the sounds of Jimmy Page’s guitar to fill my ears, as I threw my head back and closed my eyes. But it didn’t take long before restlessness found me again and I sat forward in my seat. 

My gaze fixated on the bodies that moved around me through the airport, as I watched people come and go before me, as they were nothing but blurs. The voice on the PA system drained out the music, as I frustratedly amped up the volume. 

I shifted in my position, and stared down at my hand, Rex’s promise ring glistened beneath the fluorescent light. Suddenly an ache formed inside my chest at the thought of him. 

In the distance, I managed to catch the final words from the PA system, as I ripped my headphones away from me, as I recognized the flight number. I then stared down at my wristwatch, knowing that it was time for me to board my plane. 

Frozen in my stance, my feet were unable to move, knowing that the moment I stood up would mean that I’d have to leave this place for good. 

“This is the final call for flight DL 662.” The voice bellowed from the speakers. 

I closed my eyes for a mere second, before I exhaled and pushed myself onto standing. Grabbing my bag I shoved my walkman into the compartment before I flung the strap over my shoulder and stalked towards the counter. 

Just when I approached the counter and was about to place down my ticket, I heard a voice call my name. My brows furrowed, as my ear twitched. There it came again. 

Abruptly, I spun around, as my eyes drifted over the crowd of people that stood in my way. I stepped forward, as I followed the sound of the voice. Finally, the familiar face came into view, as I gasped. 

“Rex?” I said, as I hurriedly moved forward. 

It didn’t take long before we managed to push our way through to each other, my heart pounded against my chest. The fear that this may be a figment of my imagination had crossed my mind. Yet, the longer I stared at him, I knew that this was reality. 

My gaze then fixated on the person behind him, as I asked in utter confusion, “Billy?” Rex embraced me as I wrapped my arms around him. “Oh my god, what are you guys doing here?” I asked, as I drew away from Rex. “Why are you guys together?” 

Rex and Billy stared at each other before they returned their attention to me. “It’s a long story,” Rex began. 

“We cleared shit up… it’s all good now.” Billy added. 

“Oh,” was all I was able to say. 

“You can’t go.” Rex pleaded. 

I shook my head, as I averted my gaze from him. “Rex, I-” I paused. 

“No, but it’s fine now-” Rex exclaimed. 

“You can come back to the band.” Billy said. 

My eyes widened. “What? Seriously?” 

“You’re the best bass player in town.” Billy explained, as Rex cleared his throat. “You’re good too.” He added. 

“I can’t believe this-” I exclaimed, as I ran my fingers through my hair. 

“It’s fine right? You’re in the band, you didn’t break the deal.” Rex explained. 

“Yeah…” I said. “And you’re sure, Billy?” 

“Dude, I’m parked in a meter. If I was trying to fuck with you, did you think I’d drive all this way.” Billy bellowed. 

“Well, serves you right-” Rex challenged, “this whole feud was a misunderstanding.” 

I swallowed the temptation to ponder what the reason behind the feud had been, as I tried to wrap my head around what had unfolded before me. 

“Alright, well, let’s wrap this up guys.” Billy muttered. 

“So?” Rex asked me. 

My gaze locked with his as I stared into his beautiful dark eyes. I raised the ticket up and tore it into pieces. “My mom’s gonna be pissed, but it’s really not up to her.” I commented. 

A smile flashed across Rex’s face as he cupped my face and drew me close towards him. Our lips collided against each other. 

“Ugh, I’m gonna be in the car.” Billy groaned in the distance. 

---------

Anticipation lingered in my veins the moment Billy and Rex had dropped me off at my house. Quietly, I stalked into the house, an eerie silence blanketed the surroundings, as the beaming sunlight had seeped in through the windows. 

I placed my bags by the side of the door as I closed it behind me. 

“Mom.” I called out. 

I followed the silence, as I stepped further into the house. To my dismay, I found my mother sitting at the dining table. She turned to face me, as I saw the smudged mascara that had fallen beneath her eyes. 

“Before you say anything, I can explain.” I began. 

Suddenly, my mother shot up onto her feet as she stepped towards me and embraced me. Taken aback, I stumbled backwards as I fought to find my balance. 

“I’m so sorry.” She cried into my shoulder, and drew back. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“I mean… I did make a deal with you and dad-” 

My mom exhaled as she wiped the tears away from her face. “I projected myself onto you,” she explained, “I was afraid that you were making the same mistake that I had made.” 

My brows furrowed, as I tried to piece together what she was trying to tell me. “What do you mean?” 

“You know I tried to be an actress when I was your age.” 

“Really?” I questioned. 

“Your grams told me that it would never work out, and that I should give up,” my mom explained, and shook her head, “but it’s not fair on you.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“And Rex… perhaps I misjudged him.” 

“He’s really special to me, mom.” I said, as I stared down at the ring on my finger again. 

My mom’s gaze followed mine as she eyed the ring. She smiled. “I can see that.” 

#fanfic #fanfiction #pantera fanfic #rex brown fanfic #rex brown x female reader #rock music fanfic #pantera fic #rex brown fic #rex rocker fanfic #rex rocker fic

[blackberry-bloody]

Pick Your Poison 8

You chose to let him rest.

There was no point in rushing him, if you needed his help, it would do you no good if he was too out of it to do so. Still, you wanted to make small talk, hoping to stave off that unease from creeping in again. You carefully shifted the maps to grab the book and sat back down on the couch, though still keeping your distance. 

The book seemed to catch his attention as a look of intrigue crossed his face. “Found something interesting?” he gestured to the book in your hands.

“Interesting is certainly one word for it.” You chuckled, halfway between nervously and genuine. “You have quite an… Eclectic taste.”

That got him to laugh hard, his head thrown back and a hand coming up to rest on his chest. You felt somewhat guilty making him laugh so hard after just being out of breath. “That’s certainly one word for it!” he echoed through his breathing. Once he finished, he added on “Though, I take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

There was something about his laugh. His composure. His overall energy just seemed to put you at ease. You could feel the tension leaving your body. Fear far from your mind right now.

“May I see?” he sat up and put his hand out, waiting for you to give him the book. 

You nodded and passed it over without hesitation. It was his book after all. He thanked you before opening the book with a hum. You however turned your attention back towards the brick of a phone. You should probably call someone soon. Just so no one thinks you’ve gone missing. 

“Forgive me, but you don’t strike me as the fairytale type Mx.Doe. What drew you to this one?”

“Wha- Huh?” You’re pulled from your thoughts and turn to Berkley. “What do you mean?” Confusion was clear in your face and tone.

Now also seeming puzzled, Berkley turned the book around to the title page- Cautionary Tales in Trying to Cheat Death- was printed in text across. “What the hell-?” You reached out and took the book back, flipping through quickly. It was all text, and no mention of angels anywhere. 

Quickly, and almost frantically Berkley grabbed your wrist in order to get you to stop, “Please! Mx. Doe that book is very old, you’ll damage it!” However, seeing you wince he let go. His grip seemed oddly strong, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. First the road, now the book. What was going on?! 

Hesitantly you let go of the book, and Berkley took it to place on the table. You remained unmoving, as emotions seemed to overflow. You felt yourself start to tear up, but quickly and frustratedly rub at your eyes. 

“Perhaps… You should get some rest before you head back. I have a spare room you can stay the night in. But, I don’t think you’re in any condition to travel right now. It’s very late anyway, there’d be no way for you to get home for at least a few hours.” Berkley placed a hand on your gently. You look up and he’s shifted from the couch to stand in front of you. He looked really, genuinely concerned.

You really wanted to go home as soon as possible, but maybe he was right? You did feel exhausted, as the adrenaline was finally leaving your system.But could you really risk sleeping in a place like this with a stranger you don’t really know? He seemed harmless enough, but you never can tell…

Taglist: @whumpshaped, @whumpsday, @whump-queen, @whumpzone, @whumptier, @emmettnet, @icyheart-and-friends

#jay jabbers #my writing #pick your poison #choose your own whump #my ocs #berkley oc #mx.doe #tw gaslighting

[crypt-tids]

A Gift Unto the King

5

Chess

“Check!” Vin called out, playfully, sword held offensively against Lucas’s.

With a sly grin, and one fluid, sweeping motion, Lucas redirected the prince’s blade and spun around behind him. The cool edge of his sword delicately rested against the back of Vin’s neck.

“Check mate.” Lucas corrected, his tone smug and confident.

Vin sighed and dropped his sword, as Lucas removed his from the vampire’s neck.

“You’ve bested me again, it seems.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sweat soaked knight behind him.

Lucas tossed his sword aside, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. Vin may have lost, but he was still a formidable opponent.

“I always do.” The knight joked, with a crooked grin.

Vin laughed, sitting down on the fluffy, green grass to rest, as Lucas did the same. The midday sun had tucked itself behind a large cloud, providing some much needed relief. Vin drew a deep breath, the air saturated with the sweet scent of freshly bloomed honeysuckles. Lucas sneezed as a gnat flew up his nose.

“Damn bugs!” He exclaimed, frustratedly rubbing his itching nose, which made Vin snicker.

It had been nearly four years since Lucas came to the castle, and in that time, he and the prince had become rather close. They would regularly train together whenever Vin didn’t have other royal obligations to attend to, and vice versa. Lucas had done well to sharpen his skills, and was rapidly becoming one of the king’s best soldiers. He never stepped a foot out of line, and followed every order with impeccable execution. Not a day went by that the young knight didn’t seem happy to be there.

“Sir Lucas?”

“Hm?” He turned his head to face the prince, who was currently admiring a small beetle scurrying through the grass.

“I never asked you… why did you want to become a knight, anyways?”

Lucas eyed the man for a moment, who’s gaze never left the scuttling insect, as he thought of an adequate response.

“Isn’t that every man’s dream?” He replied, noncommittally. Vin turned towards Lucas, clearly unsatisfied by the non-answer he’d received.

“No, it’s not.”

Lucas shifted his gaze away from the prince, his formerly cheerful expression now fading. He mindlessly tugged at a blade of grass, rolled it in his fingers, then flicked it aside.

“I come from a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom. There’s not much money there, but the people are good.” He exhaled forcefully through his nose. “My fathers… they’re brilliant blacksmiths. Just as their fathers were before them. It’d be hard to find better blacksmiths anywhere, save for Elvenwood.” He cracked a small smile, which lingered only briefly before, once again, disappearing. “But… people don’t look too kindly on cursed blood.”

Vin’s eyes fell. He had the luxury of royal lineage, so he was well enough removed from the atrocities that befell commoners bearing curses. He knew life was harder for cursed people, but it was something he could never truly understand. His family had attempted to make their kingdom a safe haven for those bearing cursed bloodlines, but that didn’t necessarily erase the hatred for them.

“Being a werewolf… people already don’t trust us. Think we’re just some savage, animalistic beasts, with no self control.” He sighed. “Maybe they’re right. I mean, look at me.” Lucas shrugged, gesturing to himself. “I’m covered in scars, and I’ve left a fair few myself.”

Vin’s brows furrowed as his eyes ran over the visible scars on Lucas’s body. He’d somehow never realized that those marks came from other werewolves.

“On the full moon, my kind… we’re not exactly friends. But the rest of the time, no one else is friends with us. So most everyone in my village shared the same curse. It was a place we could all exist and feel understood. Sure, we were poor, and mostly had to trade for the things we needed, but it worked.”

“So, why did you leave?” Vin asked.

Lucas frowned, not quite sure whether or not he wanted to share something so personal. But, after a moment of quiet deliberation, he figured it would be best to just be honest about it.

“My whole life I’ve felt worthless, because that’s how the world saw me. It never mattered what my fathers did, what I did, what anyone in my village did, people still feel like the world would be a better place if we weren’t in it.” He let out an unamused, half laugh. “I guess that’s the point of a ‘curse’, huh?”

Vin’s heart sank in his chest. The young knight’s disposition had always been so pleasant. If he hadn’t heard the words spill from Lucas’s mouth himself, he never would have believed his mind could contain so much torment.

“I guess I just… wanted to be useful.” Lucas smiled, but it did poorly to conceal the sadness behind it.

“A person’s worth doesn’t come from how useful they are to others, you know.” Vin stared off into the field, watching the trees sway in the gentle breeze. “It comes from the kindness, and good intentions of their heart. It comes from a life happily lived. So whatever you choose to do in this life, make sure you’re doing it for you.”

Lucas was at a loss for words. In all his life, no one had ever once spoken to him that way. Not a single person had ever alluded to him that he had any real worth at all. He came from a world where everyone he knew was the same. A place where everyone had grown to feel about themselves the way that the world had felt about them. Yet here he sat, beside a prince, only two years his senior, who already held the wisdom of an old crone.

“Are you happy with the choice you’ve made to come here?” Vin asked, still watching the dancing leaves.

“I am, Your Highness.” Lucas grinned, shifting to watch the swaying trees with him. “Because if I hadn’t, I never would have met you.”

Lucas awoke to heavy rain pounding the roof of his modest home. Despite the nagging swirl of nausea resting firmly in his stomach, he felt the most at peace he’d felt in a while. He rolled over onto his side, tightly gripping his pillow, as his eyes fell to the bottle of elixir on the small wooden table beside his bed. He stared at it for a long while, before letting out a sigh.

Whatever you choose to do in this life, make sure you’re doing it for you.

Lucas laughed in his throat as Vin’s words echoed in his mind. A fair few years had passed since that day in the grassy field they’d spent together, but it still sat vividly in his memories.

As he listened to the rain fall, he closed his eyes and smiled. No matter what choice he made, as long as he made it for himself, he would never regret it.

Vin nibbled at his breakfast of warm bread and blood sausage. To be honest, blood sausage wasn’t very high on the list of foods he enjoyed. He’d much rather consume blood straight, however, the sausages were easier to store, and didn’t require his kitchen staff to slaughter livestock every morning. They worked hard enough as it was, there was no reason to make their lives any more difficult.

The king jabbed at the unappetizing sausage with his silver fork in a manner not denoting any intention of eating. Once he grew tired of rolling the ugly thing across his plate, he dropped the fork, and shoved the half eaten dish aside. He didn’t have much of an appetite, anyways.

“Your Majesty! Pardon my intrusion.” The servant bowed hastily.

“What is it?” Vin’s chin rested on his hand.

“We’ve received correspondence from Honterra.”

“Well, hand it over, then.” Vin held out his hand as the servant rushed to place the rolled parchment in it.

Popping the wax seal, he unfurled the slightly crinkled parchment to reveal only a few measly lines worth of flamboyant calligraphy.

To be delivered unto Valkevilla,

May the sins of your cursed blood be absolved by your death, and the death of all who condone it. By the witness of the gods that have spoken their will to me, it shall be done.

Blessed be King Wilfred of Honterra

Vin crumpled the parchment and threw it across the room, his lips curled into a menacing snarl. Anger boiled in his blood, and with an impulsive sweep of his arm, the plate of half eaten breakfast flew from the table, loudly clattering against the tile floor. Food debris bounced away from the plate, some landing near the servant, who now stood rigid and visibly shaken by the outburst. Vin clenched his fist tightly, stroking his chin with his knuckles as his gaze fixated on the plate.

“Leave.” He growled, and the servant nervously bowed, before scurrying out of the great hall.

Vin rested his head against his fist, closing his eyes as he attempted to calm his furious breath. The letter read like some paranoid delusion. As if he, and his people, were nothing short of a devilish scourge on this world. But what foundation could Wilfred possibly have to make such claims of sin? Three hundred years of peaceful coexistence were coming to an end at the hands of a warped man with a crown on his head.

Why now? Why wait? The king stroked his chin, the backs of his fingers lightly running across his lips. And why hasn’t this fuck ordered another attack?

He huffed and shook his head, pushing himself up from the table, and marching out of the great hall and up the stairs towards the solar. The words of the letter were singed into his brain. The uncharacteristically loud thumping of his boots could be heard throughout the castle, but he hardly noticed it over the sound of his own racing thoughts.

He slammed the solar door behind him, stomping towards the map covered table. His eyes shook so badly with rage that all of the lines were reduced to a blurred mess. He slapped his palms against the table with enough force to rattle the brass candelabra, which he then swiftly smacked from the table. Blood trickled from the large slice on the back of his right hand where it had caught a sharpened edge. Broken candles and wax shards now littered the wooden floor.

“FUCK!” Vin shouted, still unaware of the blood dripping from his wound. His rage had dulled his senses, causing the searing pain to go unnoticed.

Bastard! He cursed to himself.

After a moment of stewing, he hastily pulled out a hinged, wooden box with a checkerboard top. Flipping the latch, he dumped the contents onto the table. Black and white poly-stone chess pieces spilled across the map. Vin’s eyes sifted through the pieces until he found the one he was looking for—the king. Lifting the light-colored piece, he held it up to his eye line, admiring it smugly before closing his fist around it, and sweeping the others aside. With one forceful motion, he slammed the piece down onto the map, where it rested firmly in the center of Honterra.

Marion, having heard the commotion from the great hall, wandered in to find her son had already left. She scanned the room, noting the mess of food on the floor, to which an eager fly had already managed to lay claim. She then noticed the crumpled parchment, unassumingly resting a few feet from the wall. She wondered if this might have been the root of the morning’s disruptions.

Reaching down, she picked up the parchment, and unfolded it, attempting to smooth out the crinkles against her thigh. It was difficult to read, but she managed.

As she read, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. She could hardly believe the words on the page, and read it through twice more to make sure she had read it correctly. The implications of the letter sat heavy on her heart. Honterra didn’t want land or riches, but merely to spill the blood of innocent curse-borns. To lay waste to generations worth of unfortunate souls who’s ancestor’s only crimes were to cross paths with spiteful witches. For centuries, they’ve lived with their misfortunes, finding ways to exist amongst humans peacefully, and Valkevilla was living proof it could be done.

Her hand trembled. So many emotions were racing through her, she couldn’t tell which was winning. She had held her suspicions against Honterra to herself since the murder of her husband, but now those suspicions had been confirmed, and to a degree much worse than what she had initially imagined.

The queen attempted to collect herself, to rationalize her thoughts. She needed to maintain a level head, as the future of her people depended on it.

To be so direct, so sudden, something must be at the root of it. Something has changed, but what? Her free hand twiddled with her pearl necklace. And for so much time to pass without another attack… could it be the king is acting solely of his own accord? I wonder…

The sudden realization that her son had read the letter as well pulled her from her thoughts. Gripping at her dress to lift it above her ankles, she ran off towards the stairs. Certain her son had locked himself away in the solar, she wasted no time in getting there. The door sat firmly shut, but she didn’t bother knocking, and forced her way in.

“Vin!” She exclaimed, out of breath. “Vin, darling-” Marion was overcome with the thick scent of blood that had permeated the air. She glanced at her son, who hadn’t yet acknowledged her, and saw the gash on his hand, still spilling blood. “My gods!” The queen rushed to his side, taking his bloodied hand into her own. “What happened?!” She glanced around the room, looking for some scrap cloth to bind his hand with. Coming up empty, she resorted to ripping a strip of fabric from the bottom of her chemise, and tightly tying it around the wound.

“He died because of his blood.” Vin stated flatly, wincing at the tugging of the fabric against his bruised and battered hand. “He was killed because he wasn’t… human.” His voice faltered.

Marion eyed the map, her son’s blood beginning to stain the edge of the vellum. Following Vin’s gaze, she noticed the little, white chess piece, firmly towering over Honterra. Sighing, she closed her eyes, brows twisted with concern.

“I know.” She whispered softly.

“I’m going to kill him.” Vin’s voice was more firm now, but broken on the back end.

Marion snapped her gaze up to her son’s face. His eyes were dark and hollow. The light had fully faded from them. This was his first real taste of the hatred the world had to offer curse-borns. She’d done well to shield him from it, but that time was over now. All that was left was the aftermath. The bloody, tragic, depressing, aftermath.

“I know.” She sighed. “But not today.”

“Why not?” He hissed sharply.

“Because if you do, you’ll die.” Her voice held an air of desperation.

“So what?”

“So what?” She repeated incredulously, shaking her head, as she pulled away from her son. “You’re the last of Valkevilla’s royal bloodline! It’s your job to protect your people! With you gone, what hope do you think will remain?” Her eyes bored into Vin, pleadingly.

“It’s my job to protect my people, which I cannot do as long as that man still draws breath!” His eyes finally met his mother’s. “How long do you think I can wait before more people die at his hand?”

“Think rationally, Vincent.”

The king’s eyes fell back to the chess piece. Marion could see his mind had been made up. Unwilling to admit defeat, she clenched her jaw and drew a sharp breath.

“There hasn’t been another attack.” She continued.

“Your point?”

“My point is that I’m not sure it’s wise to order a counter attack right now. Especially not if it would be putting our people into a precarious position.” She sighed. “What happened to your father was… tragic. But you can’t go around risking the lives of our people, of yourself, just because you want to avenge him!”

Vin stood tall, eyeing his mother, before approaching her. He leaned in so close, their faces were only inches apart, causing Marion to withdraw slightly.

“Do you honestly believe my father is all I fight for?”

Marion swallowed hard, studying her son’s hardened face. Her body trembled with apprehension, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. It was as though she had been stunned still.

“You may have taken from me that which I value most in this world, but you will not take away my desire to fight. Win or lose, live or die, I will gladly accept my fate, because I know what I’m fighting for. I know who I’m fighting for.” Vin pulled back, glaring intimidatingly down at his mother. “Because of you, I no longer fear death.”

Marion’s chin trembled, as she watched her son step away, his back now facing her. She began nervously twiddling with her pearl necklace again. To hear him speak in such a way, she was truly at a loss. He blamed her for so much, and rightly so. She wished she could take it all back, to let him live freely as he pleased, but she couldn’t. Valkevilla’s fate relied on Vin’s ability to play the game, and play it well. If only he understood the necessity of it all, perhaps he wouldn’t look so harshly on her. “If you die,” she spoke after a moment, “the sacrifices you made… they’ll be for nothing.” She bit her lip. “I know you hate me right now. And maybe you always will.” Her voice tapered at the end as her gaze fell to the window. “I’ve taken a lot from you. More than a mother should ever have to take from her child. But sometimes, we must do things we don’t want to do because it’s what has to be done.” Marion paused, attempting to collect herself again. “At least…” her gaze fell to the floor, “promise me you won’t rush into this. I know you’re going to kill him, I really can’t stop you from doing that. But please… be strategic about it.” She glanced up at her son, her eyes firmly fixed on the back of his head. “I’m begging you. Don’t run in there just to die.”

#a gift unto the king #knight au #mpreg #belly kink #tum kink #oc #vampire #werewolf #male pregnancy