Tumgik
#i swear i wanted to follow the prompt better
chocoenvy · 1 year
Note
Hey hey hey hey! Remember those different moms for child god reader fics? Well since Sumeru came out, what if Child God landed there and Dunyazad takes them in for a bit and Child God unknowingly cures her Eleazar?
OH MY FUCKING-
Mommy Dunyarzad (except she shows up for a solid two seconds)
warnings: Angsty!! Spoilers for Sumeru archon quest, a child (under 10) is considered god, cult behaviors
Notes: That's right bitches im alive
3.1k words
Her hands were shaking as she carefully took care of the child, reaching out for their forehead to feel their temperature, gently checking their pulse and heart.
"The Dendro archon must have blessed me once more." The sentence slipped shakily past her lips, a disbelieving smile tugging up on her lips yet her eyes remained creased in worry. She must've looked insane, but really how else was she supposed to react?
There was no way she could pick you up, and there was no way she could leave you to get Dehya. Dunyarzad bit her lip, glaring at her bandaged hands.
She sighed, "Guess I'll just have to wait until you awake, little one." Her eyes softened fondly at your sleeping form, "May the Dendro archon bless your dreams." She placed her hand on your forehead.
The Dendro archon was, in fact, blessing your dreams.
Behind your eyes there was a dream unfolding before you. You stood in the middle of a large cage the bars higher than your house. In there with you was a small girl, green accented hair and her large green eyes, her pupils were blooming flowers.
"You're not from here, are you?" Her voice was high pitched and soft, yet resounded in your ears. You couldn't ignore her even if you tried.
"Where is here?" Your voice was equally soft, despite the circumstances there was no flame in your veins screaming at you to get out of this cage.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from the girl's.
The girl smiled, "Here is here, and you are not usually here, are you?"
You frowned at her confusing wording, "I guess you're right."
She hummed and nodded, pleased, "Yes, (Y/n), right?"
For some reason you weren't surprised that she knew your name. You stepped closer, "Yes. Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
"There are few who don't know." She responded simply, "Both your name and mine, as is the way with gods. We are commodities."
"Co...mo- wait what do you mean gods? And you still didn't tell me your name." You pouted, your head spinning from her confusing sentances.
The girl came closer to you, her eyes made your skin crawl, she stared straight through you, every crevice of your soul was seen by her. Yet somehow she was still comforting, smiling and soft, she saw all of you and understood all of you.
"I am Nahida. Do you know where here is?" She dodged questions like a master, making you wonder how many mind games she's played.
"I... don't." You frowned, your eyes growing slowly watery.
Panic erupted in her eyes, "Well, technically you are dreaming right now, but I am more than real. Where your body is, is not where it's supposed to be."
"My...body..." You muttered, "So where is my body then? If I am not where I'm supposed to be?" You worriedly frowned, "Am I at school? I'm not supposed to sleep at school."
Nahida chuckled, "No, it's not as bad as that. You are merely... hmm how should I put this?... It's the same as a bee living in a hive that's not its own but all the bees think you're the queen bee. You are outside of the system, and you're not supposed to be there, but you think it's home. Does that make sense?" She explained, "It's not necessarily a bad thing as you are not negatively impacting anything, but it's not how things are supposed to be. Do you understand?"
You stared blankly at her.
She sighed, slumping her shoulders, "You are a queen bee in a new hive, but in your old hive you were a regular bee." Her gaze turned grave, "The worker bees will all treat you differently. Remember that when you awake."
"W-what?" Your eyes were round and glassy, confused and scared, "What do you mean?"
Her tiny hands cradled the backs of your dominant hand, in your palm a foreign flower bloomed, "Remember my words and you will be alright. We shall meet again when you next dream. Take care, (Y/n) and don't be afraid. You will be taken care of."
Her smile was sweet as the moon and faded just as fast when the sunlight crashed onto your eyes. You groaned, covering your eyes so they wouldn't be burned by the sunlight.
There was a gasp above you, "You're up!" It sounded like a woman.
You blinked blearily up at her. She didn't look the slight bit familiar, and compared to the girl in your dreams she was rather plain looking. The girl in your dreams...
You shot up, My dream!
Your tiny body heaved gasps of air, as you ignored the woman beside you to soak in the surrounding scenery. It was green and beautiful, a large tree reaching its branches up to the sky was nearby, a fantastical city built into it. There was also a rainforest farther away, and you swore you saw a desert even father than that.
"Where... is here?" Your wide eyes looked up at the woman, swimming with confusion and yet - to Dunyarzad's surprise - no fear.
She smiled patiently, "Here is Sumeru, child. I am Dunyarzad, may I know your name?"
You blinked up at her.
You are a queen bee in a new hive. The words echoed throughout your head like a mantra.
"I'm (Y/n). It's nice to meet you Dunyarzad." You smiled up at her, hoping that Nahida's words - whatever they meant - were wrong.
Dunyarzad's breathing halted for a moment, and then she smiled. Large and warm and distant, "It's a joy to meet you, young (Y/n). Are you aware of your purpose here?"
"My... purpose?" Your large, child eyes stared curiously at her.
She nodded, "You were put here for a reason, I know you aren't a child from Sumeru who accidentally fell asleep in a forest. No, you are different. Do you know why exactly you are in Sumeru?"
You hesitantly shook your head as a no, worry filling your large orbs.
"You are here... because you love Teyvat." She grinned, "Isn't that right? You love Teyvat so much and the world knew, so it brought you here. Isn't that lovely?" She smiled so brightly it nearly outrivaled the sun.
You grinned, "Yeah! Though I've never seen Sumeru before, it's so pretty!" You looked around once more, drinking in everything you could see with glee. "So, my purpose is to enjoy Teyvat?" You tilted your head curiously.
Dunyarzad nodded gleefully, "Yes!" She said softly, honey coating her voice, "You were brought here by divine will, your will to be here and to love here."
You grinned brightly, "That's so cool!"
Dunyarzad nodded as you stood up and hopped around excitedly, "Settle down, child. Come," She stood, dusting off her dress, "allow me to take you to Sumeru city. It is much safer there, and comfier than the wilderness."
You looked at her outstretched hand covered in bandages. You gingerly placed your smaller hand in hers and she led you towards the massive tree, who's branches hoped to one day meet the sky.
*~
Before the gate to the city was even in sight, you could feel the stares from wandering people nearby. The way their eyes widened as they caught onto you, breath caught in their throat, their whole bodies turned in your direction.
Dunyarzad was all smiles, even as your hand tightened nervously around hers. You could see droplets of sweat drip down her face, but she remained bright and comforting. Yet you knew something was wrong.
You got closer to her, almost burying yourself in her side, staring at the ground to avoid the stares.
"Dunyarzad! What are you-" You jumped back as a large woman rushed to Dunyarzad.
"Dehya!" She gasped , "Thank the archons. Look, it's-"
The woman with weird... ears(?) on her head and sharp blue eyes grabbed Dunyarzad's arm urgently, "I know-" She shook her head, "I know who it is." She whispered urgently, "Come on let's go to your house before..." Her eyes connected with yours and you felt a chill travel down your spine. The worry and tint of fear in her eyes as she stared at you was enough to have your hands shaking and gripping tighter onto Dunyarzad's bandaged hand.
The woman - Dehya - rushed the two of you into the heart of the city. Dehya pulled you in between her and Dunyarzad, your right hand being held by Dunyarzad and left arm being held onto tightly by Dehya.
Your chest heaved, there were pinpricks on the back of your eyes and your throat stocked up. You could hear your heart beat reverberate in your ears.
Dehya ushered you and Dunyarzad into a house and shut the door quickly.
"Dehya what-"
"Dunyarzad I-" Her blue eyes glanced at you nervously before settling back on Dunyarzad, "You know-" She huffed and muttered, "Do you understand how the Akademiya will feel about them?"
Dunyarzad tilted her head, "Won't-won't they feel thrilled."
Dehya pursed her lips, "Dunyarzad..." She sighed after glancing at you once more, "We shouldn't be talking about this with them around. Come on kid, you hungry?"
The words struggled out of your mouth, "A little..."
"Here I'll get you a drink too." Her and Dunyarzad made eye contact and they left the room.
Your feet dangled off the seat and you stared at them mindlessly. The tears tickling the back of your eyes finally wriggled their way out. You sniffled and wiped the tears away as well as you could. Why were you so sad? This place was... fun wasn't it? Shouldn't it be?
You love Teyvat. You love everyone here. That's why you're here, that's what the little girl said.
But why did you want to go home so badly? Why did everyone look at you like that?
A bang resounded throughout the entire house, your head snapped up in alarm, and the front door was blocked off by a group of people.
You had a flashback to all those nightmares you'd had that went exactly like this. Those nightmares that had you waking up sobbing and running to your parent. But would you wake up this time? Who would you cry to?
Tears were already streaming down your face, sobs wracking your body. There was nobody to help you.
"Calm down, child." The person in the front said, his voice gruff and uncaring, "Come with us, you are very important and we cannot leave you here."
Wasn't that what the girl - Nahida - was saying? Was it really true?
You pursed your lips and opened them up to retort when a strong arm wrapped around your waist and carried you away. The wind whipped your hair back, a scream tore through your throat at the fear that suffocated your lungs.
Your nails dug into the arm holding you, you were now outside with this person carrying you. You managed to gather the sense to look at who it was.
Dehya.
Dunyarzad was nowhere to be found.
"W-" you coughed out, "Where-"
"Shh!" She shushed you harshly, "If we want to get out of here alive and happy we need to be quiet. Okay?"
Her tone made your crying - which had halted briefly from panic - to start up again.
A flash of regret burned her eyes but it was gone as soon as it had come.
"Okay." You quieted your sniffling.
"Dehya." A deeper, distinctly male voice cut through the wind.
Dehya stopped in her tracks and wordlessly you were passed on. Dehya continued running away, and instinctively you reached for her. The man gently pulled your hand down and tucked you into his thick coat until you were completely obstructed from view.
"Keep quiet and don't move."
You nodded and felt him start to walk. You held your breath every time you heard people and footsteps. Though, strangely, every time you walked past someone they seemed to part for him and quiet down. It brought some relief to you but no matter what your heart was thumping against your chest so hard you were terrified if someone got too close they'd hear.
The man was swift and was quick to exit the city gate, it was less than five minutes later that he set you down in a secluded spot.
Your entire body was shaking, your legs hardly letting you stand up.
"Nilou, take them and go to Gandharva ville. Tighnari and Collei will be able to get them to Liyue and from there everything will go smoothly." The man said gravely.
The girl who had appeared from behind a rock nodded, "I'll do my best, Cyno."
"Good." There was no warmth in his voice and the white haired man disappeared back into the city.
The Nilou lady had orange hair and blue eyes, a beautiful combination, as well as a pair of horns on her head. You briefly wondered if she was related to Ganyu but your heart was beating too fast for you to worry about it for too long.
"It's nice to meet you, your grace." She bowed gracefully, "I am Nilou, I wish we had met under better circumstances but it is extremely important that we hurry." She held out her hand and you blindly took it.
She hoisted you up onto her hip and began sprinting. You weren't sure how far you had made it, the terrain unfamiliar to you, but Nilou was growing tired quickly.
You didn't think you were being followed but there were enemies around every turn, people and monsters alike, which made it 10 times harder to get around.
Eventually, Nilou set you down, her breathing ragged and sweat coating her forhead.
"I'm afraid we'll have to walk for the rest of this journey. Or at least until I get my energy back, if that's alright?" She held her hand out once more.
You grabbed it and nodded.
Your eyes wandered aimlessly, wide and searching for a distraction. Your heart had hardly calmed down and you hardly gripped onto Nilou's hand.
"...my name's (Y/n)," You muttered.
Nilou blinked, glancing down at you for a moment. She smiled beautifully, "What a cute name."
You looked up at her, it felt like your head would fall off any moment, "It's nice to meet you...Nilou."
She smiled softly, "It's nice to meet you as well, your grace."
You frowned, a moment of silence passing between you two.
"You can call me (Y/n)..."
Nilou seemed panicked for a moment, "Well I wouldn't want to disrespect you- although... to keep a low profile I suppose it would help..."
You nodded, "It's also weird being called that."
Nilou paused and giggled, such a childish answer bringing her back to the reality that you were a child in both body and mind.
"I understand. Can I ask how old you are, (Y/n)?" She asked in a kind tone and so casually that you could almost pretend you were meeting a new character - or even person - for the first time.
You nodded, "I'm seven." You held up seven fingers to the sky, while still holding Nilou's hand.
"Oh my, that's quite young. How'd you end up in Sumeru?" She asked, genuine curiosity on her face.
"I woke up here! And Dunyarzad found me!"
Nilou hummed, "I see. This must be quite the upsetting introduction to Teyvat." A frown tugged the corners of her lips down, her eyes turning downcast.
You frowned and could feel the hotness of tears tickle the backs of your eyes, "...yeah." You whined, "I don't wanna talk about it." Your voice was barely a whisper but Nilou heard loud and clear the pain in your voice.
"I'm sorry." Was all she said, and you didn't have the energy to lie to her and tell her that it was alright.
"We're almost there." Nilou pointed ahead, "Do you see the taller trees over there? With the buildings built into them and all the vines and buildings hanging from the trees?"
You nodded, "Uh huh." Your heartrate had calmed and there was a wonder sparkling in your eyes instead of fear. It made Nilou sigh with relief.
"That's Gandharva Ville. Where you'll meet Tighnari and Collei." She brought her hand back down to her side, grinning at the wonder glimmering in your eyes.
She giggled as you unconsciously picked up your pace.
You pursed your lips and opened your mouth before you thought about stopping yourself, "Nilou, what am I?"
"Huh?" She jumped at the question.
You looked up at her with eyes so desperate and confused and lost. It made her heart burn and crack.
After a minute of silence she sighed, "You are a god. You control Teyvat and the happenings within it. Your hand is divine and touches every vision wielder within Teyvat. You watch over us and help us with a guiding hand."
She sounded rehearsed, you didn't want to know how many times this had been said.
You looked up at her with quivering lips and watery eyes, "I don't... I don't think I'm a god."
"Oh dear..." Nilou crouched down gracefully beside you, her hands coming up to cup your face and gently wipe your tears with her thumb. "You're only a child. I'm sorry things have to be this way, but you will be treated with the upmost care and gentleness in Liyue. I can guaretee you. In Sumeru though... in Sumeru our archon is not loved by the people, and we do not want that fate befalling you." She cradled your face gently, her expression crinkled in pain and sympathy, "For now, let's focus on getting you into Liyue. I know it's painful and it's so much for you to handle, but do you think you can hold out for just a bit longer?"
You sniffled, but nodded.
She smiled sweetly, "Good."
She wiped the remaining tears from your eyes and stood up. She grabbed your hand and continued her way to Gandharva Ville. The two of you remained in comfortable silence.
Until Nilou noticed that the forest was too quiet... there weren't any people or animals around.
The fact mostly flew over your head but what neither of you could ignore was the smoke filling your nostrils.
Nilou had picked up her pace, her palm already summoning her hydro powers as if on instinct.
But all of it came to a halt when you and her stood in front of what used to be a bridge leading into Gandharva Ville. A weird blue fire lit up the entirety of the forest.
In the center of it all was a certain doctor, uninterestingly glancing around.
Nilou shoved you into nearby shrubbery that hadn't been touched by the fire yet. Her sword, already infused with hydro, appeared in her hand.
Run. She mouthed.
You obeyed without hesitation.
457 notes · View notes
roosterr · 4 months
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if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
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price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
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gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
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soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
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ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
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bunny584 · 4 months
Text
OBSESSED: YUTA
A/N: Sweet, innocent, puppy-eyed boy who is no better than the frat boys you detest 🤭 (this is for anon who requested a lil crazy special grade sorcerer doing ungodly things!! Shoko feat The Boys ™️ is up next, then I SWEAR I’m done and back to AO3)
C/W: Aged up characters, College AU. Masturbation. Mature, 18+
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“YUUTA?! Are you kidding me?”
You stop time.
Heads turn in his direction. But Yuuta doesn’t register any it because of your smile.
The 1000-kilowatt smile that the locker room rumors about. The smile that stops traffic. The one that obliterates his train of thought.
365 days since he’s seen it in person.
And suddently the year in Morocco for his University degree feels frivolous.
Yuuta places two bottles of disgustingly expensive champagne (courtesy of Satoru Gojo) in between the half filled red solo cups.
He’s doing his best to keep his eyes above your delicate, sharp collarbones.
He’s doing his best not to follow the Barbie pink hair string around your neck.
The Barbie pink string connected to the triangular bikini that is defying the laws of gravity, Mother Nature, AND physics to keep your busty, perky chest supported.
Not to mention the sheer netted tissue thin excuse for a cover up. Draped around the curve of your hips. It warms him hotter than the Moroccan sun.
You wire yourself through the crowded sorority house kitchen. And Yuuta gnaws on his inner cheeks. The predatory stares from from the frat drones scattered about ignites a guttural flame.
But he’ll deal with that later.
Because Aphrodite is barreling toward him and he is not worthy.
“I can’t believe you made it!” You launch yourself into him.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Happy 21st birthday, gorgeous.”
One of his arms is more than sufficient enough to wrap around your baby doll frame. Other hand in his pocket, while he easily lifts and spins you around twice.
Airy giggles spill from your lips. So clearly surprised by how strong he has grown. He’s bulkier. More toned. Hell of a lot more confident too.
Is he showing of a little? Of course he is.
“You’re here. You’re really here.” You stare up at him with stars in your eyes. Still in utter disbelief.
Your tiny, warm hands cup his face. Yuuta subconsciously melts into them. You always did strum his body like a harp.
“Yuuta, you must be so tired. Your bedroom eyes are even more…bedroom-y.” You tease.
Yuuta laughs to choke down a groan. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained mulberry right now.
Because why would you mention a bedroom while you are wearing a bikini he could snap with his eyes?
“Hey, be nice! You know there’s no amount of caffeine that can fix the bags.” Good, fucking save.
He swallows thickly and averts his gaze. If he keeps looking at you, he’d drown. Like how he drowned freshman, sophomore and junior year.
A continent, couple oceans and a sea away from you couldn’t keep him afloat.
A palpable silence drapes over the two of you. There’s so much he wants to say.
“Who’s is the hot guy birthday girl is talking to?”
“Okkotsu, I think.”
“No WAY. If she doesn’t fuck him i—“
“OKAY!!!” You exclaim loudly, prompting giggles from your sorority sisters behind you.
Your cheeks are now matching his. You both burst into incredulous laughter, letting some of the pressure out of the proverbial valve.
“Give me a tour, birthday girl.” Yuuta grazes his fingers over your bare shoulders because he can’t not touch you.
Your hand magnets to his wrist and you both beeline up the stairs. He knows, you know, -you both know- you are heading straight to your bedroom.
Yuuta’s heart is throbbing so hard his whole rib cage is vibrating. Cotton lines every corner of his mouth and he’s suddenly forgotten how to swallow.
Forgotten how to breathe apparently too, because he chokes on air when you pull him to the front of your room door.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you muse playfully.
And now his cock is at full staff. The measly silver zipper is definitely not strong enough for this.
“I-Im sorry?” Yuuta gurgles through the saliva pooled in his mouth like a hungry puppy.
“It’s a pool party, silly. C’mon, you can use my bathroom to change.”
Yuuta makes the mistake of letting his eyes drop down the dip of your pretty spine. Tracing all the way down to your matching bikini bottom. That’s a thong. Lining between your perfect, plump ass.
God.
No.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
He follows behind you, nails digging into his dark jeans.
“Bathroom’s through the closet, be quick.” You flash him another pristine grin and…and..
..what is his name again…?
Yuuta returns your smile with a lopsided one of his own. The walk to the bathroom is 13 miles long. There’s no way. No way he’s going to be able to hide his unreasonable, rock hard length through his weightless swim trunks.
He halts. Suddenly enchanted by your hanging clothes. Like a Venus fly trap. You’re everywhere.
Your clothes. Your delicious scent. Your jewelry. Your shoes.
Yuuta is in the eye of your vortex.
A long, silky sleeve tickles his cheek. So soft. Electric currents surge through every engorged vessel in his cock. He takes in a long drag of the faint cherry vanilla notes etched into your clothes.
An addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in a field of his vices.
His fingers earthquake against his buckle. Clumsily stepping out of his jeans.
Just a quick touch. It’ll help him relax. Just really fast, you won’t know.
Yuuta whips around to bury himself in your silk shirt. Heart thundering in his ears. Fingers tickling the hem of his trunks. Shaft fully tented from nothing.
“Yuuta? Did you get lost in there?” Your dulcet voice knock Yuuta’s lust-drunk thoughts loose.
“Ha-N-no! I’m c-coming!”
Yuuta shakily unbuttons his white linen shirt, exposing his lean but chisled core. His cock is diamond hard. Any slight movement and his blunt, leaky tip will peek over the hem.
He strategically folds his pants over the indecent bulge. He just has to count backwards from 500 then he’ll soften and leave the jeans behind.
“Come out!! I won’t bite!” You coax again.
The second Yuuta re-emerges from your closet, he digs the heel of his palm into his crotch. Trying to will his erection down by sheer force because counting just won’t do.
You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning against your palms flat on the duvet.
Your bikini has grown smaller.
It has to have.
Because the way your supple tits spill around the cruel joke that is that top fucks his brain to mush.
Soft curvy lines of your breasts. Feminine pretty lines of your tummy. The swell of your thighs just begging for Yuuta’s lips, his hands…his dick. He could drop to his knees and worship at your alter this second.
“Oh my god!” You giggle again, waving him over to the bed.
“You’re so, big, now.” Your hand lingers on his tensed bicep, currently losing the war against his cock angrily thrashing around in his pants.
“Am I?” Yuuta asks stupidly. Long sentences are off the table.
“Mmhm,” he watches your eyes lazily drink in his face. He must be an embarrassing shade of violet at this point.
Your hand makes its way into his hair and Yuuta just couldn’t choke down the “ohh,” that bubbles out of him.
“God, I’ve missed you, Yuuta.” Your face is so soft. So earnest.
And Yuuta is there with you, he swears he is. It’s just, you’re speaking directly to his cock right now and all the blood has drained from his head to his head.
“I mi-missed you. More.” He manages to grunt out, precum pooling on his thigh.
Hold it together. Fucking hold it together.
You turn your body and scoot closer to him. The peaks and valley of your cleavage, tantalizing him into a mindless fool who can only think about fucking his fist.
“Guys here suck. But not you. You’ve always been amazing,” you murmur, circling feather light shapes against Yuuta’s scalp.
He shudders under your touch. Biting his cheeks so his jaw doesn’t hang open. Drool already threatening to leak from his lips.
“So kind and sweet.” Your eyes drop to his lips at the same that your hand falls to his tensed abs.
And Yuuta is caught in your quick sand. His limbs loosen. Hand on his crotch melts away. Allowing his member to spring upward with all the blood he has in his body. The sudden movement causes his jeans to slide to the floor.
His ears and cheeks burn at his indecency. But he can’t move. He is at your complete mercy. His cock rhythmically pumping out his precum now.
“I..” Yuuta croaks, but in one dizzying motion you dive your lips onto his.
He snaps.
Yuuta’s left hand flies to his neglected, weapy shaft. The friction through his thin trunks evoke a deep moan into your mouth. His other hand grips the back of your head, pressing you forward onto his tongue. He didn’t ask for entry into your lips like he normally would. It’s too dire. He’s too needy.
His hand pumps his length while his tongue maps every corner of your warm mouth. You let out soft, high pitched sighs. Which nearly bring him to finish instantly.
“Oh, Yuuta.” You moan his name. And Yuuta’s hips rut harder into his hands.
He’s hoping, praying you’re too distracted by the bruising kiss to notice the pitiful way he’s bucking his hips. Humping his hand. He’s no better than the guys you were talking about. No better.
“OH BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!!” Shrill voices from just outside your door rip you two a mile apart.
Yuuta scrambles to his feet, his arm unsuccessfully covering his crotch. You are panting, thumb stroking your bottom lip. Both of you still brimming with your electric chemistry.
“Enough birthday sex!!! Time for TEQUILA!” Your sorority sisters babble and laugh, about 2 seconds away from opening the door.
You grip the handle. Face and body flushed warm rose.
“I-I-uh I have to-“
“Ye—yeah of course, I’ll meet you, down. I’ll meet you down there.”
Both of your voices nervously collide. Looking everywhere but each other’s eyes. You flutter out in haste. Leaving Yuuta in the middle of your room rock hard and a pre cum covered mess.
Like leaving a fiend with an array of illicit substances.
Yuuta turns on his heel and disappears into your closet. He’s not thinking. Logical thought has long ceased to exist. All he can think about is how much his balls ache for you. How drunk he is off your touch. Your taste. Your smell.
His eyes laser down to a crumpled pair of lace panties just a few paces away from your hamper.
Yuuta’s gaze could burn it through the floor.
Stop, Yuuta. Don’t you dare.
He scolds himself. Even though his hands do the opposite. He drops to his knees and pulls his heavy cock free from its barrier. The other hand toying with your worn panties.
He’s filthy. A dirty, nasty scumbag.
Yuuta tugs his cock, aggressively. Jaw hanging open. Short desperate huffs of air escaping his lips.
No, don’t. Stop. “Nnhhgh s-top…fuck..n-no.” His jagged thoughts and jagged words intertwine. Squelching noises from his arousal pierce through his groans.
Yuuta brings your panties to his nose, and nearly blacks out. Your scent. So fucking delicious. So perfect.
He needs to taste.
His groans become garbled when he stuffs your panties into his mouth. Every single nerve ending in his body ruptures.
Yuuta pumps his cock with both hands. Feverish. Sloppy thrusts of his hips colliding with his white knuckled fists. The world around him dampens. Blurs.
“Nnnghh..uhhgh..f-FUCK,”
Your spit-drenched underwear rolls out of his mouth onto his sensitive tip. Ropes, and ropes and ropes of his cum fill your soft négligée.
Yuuta hangs his head back, leaning against his calves. His dick still twitching through his nirvana.
After a few moments, the fog slowly lifts from his mind. His vision returns. Yuuta wipes the remnants of his arousal off his cock with your panties. Before tucking them into his pocket.
Unable to look himself in the eye, he quickly rinses his hands, intending to rejoin your party at once.
But, when his hand connects with the cold knob, a voice in the back of his mind pipes up.
Take another one.
And in a trance-like state, Yuuta rushes back to your closet hamper to find another pair of your panties.
A pretty, delicate red number catches his eyes and he stuffs it into a free pocket before scurrying out of your room.
He’s no better than them.
He’s worse.
PART II
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clbrq · 5 months
Text
THAT’S MINE— C. BROCK.
prompt; porn without a plot :)
warnings; HEAVY SMUT, rough sex, degradation, swearing/cursing, p in v sex, unprotected, dominant!colby.
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“Mmf!” Your muffled moans barely reached Colby’s ears as he shoved your head further into the pillow.
His cock was fully erect inside you—ploughing deep as his tip abused your cervix with every thrust. His ring-clad fingers threaded through your tasseled hair as he harshly pushed your tear-stained face into the makeup-covered pillow.
He really didn’t give a fuck if you cried or begged—your pussy was his and he was going to destroy it.
Pulling your head back roughly, you gasp for breath as his pace never faltered while he spoke, “You wanna be a good girl now?”
“Fuckkk, yes! Yes, I swear, Colby, please!” You begged, your eyes rolling back his throbbing cock hit your G-spot so perfectly.
“Oh, you still wanna be a bad girl?” Colby joked, a devilish smirk on his lips, “I better keep treating you like the little brat you are then, shouldn’t I?”
“No, no, that’s not what I sai—“
Your words were cut short as he shoved your face back into the pillow forcefully—your senses deprived as the low rumble of his evil laugh rang in your ears. His free hand grasped your hips tightly as he rocked his hips back and forth rapidly, erupting more tears from your eyes from the sheer about of pleasure.
“‘Been teasing me all day.” He huffed, his cheeks glowing pink as he grew hot, “Walking round in those slutty little shorts around my friends. Does it get you off to see me so pissed off?”
Attempting to shake your head in disagreement, Colby forced it still, “Liar.” He seethed, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered.
Releasing his grip from your hair, you lifted your head quickly and turned to face him, “I swear, baby, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Your sobs of forgiveness were enough for Colby to pardon you. In one swift moment, you were moved from bent over to on your back. Not once did Colby let you feel empty without his cock. His thrusts started once more as he lifted your legs onto his shoulders—hitting the sweet spot inside you repeatedly.
“‘M so fuckin’ close.” You whined, arching your back off the bed as a bead of sweat trickled down your forehead.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Colby warned, his eyes stern on yours as he pounded your sloppy pussy, “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”
A loud, annoyed whine left your lips as you screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming as he denied you an orgasm. Forcefully, Colby grabbed your chin in a tight grasp as he guided your eyes towards him.
“Be a good girl for me.” He told you, “Come on, baby, you can do it.”
Nodding your head in agreement, Colby’s hands returned to your thighs as he sped up his thrusts. He was getting close too. Colby’s groans got louder as he ripped into you repeatedly, drawls of curses and degrading names falling past his swollen lips.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over me, you fucking slut.” He moaned, throwing his head back as he released spurts of cum inside you, your name slipping from his mouth as he did so.
Your orgasm followed as you clenched around him, only progressing his release longer. You whimpered as the arousal flooded throughout your body, the undeniable ecstasy filling you just like he was. Colby’s name could be heard from throughout the house as you screamed it from the incredible finish he brought to you.
Pulling out, Colby leaned down to press a firm kiss on your head, a soft smile on his face, “Now you know not to be a little whore around my friends again.”
-
hi!! i know i’ve been gone, i just haven’t really felt the want to write, it’s been shit. i’m sorry i haven’t been as active.
so i thought i’d write a simple smut to keep y’all on your toes ;)
i love you all sm hope all you’re okay!!
b <3
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@cam1ly
@morchilluv
@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf
@samandcolby-ownme
@reem6806
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@nanascupid
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@whicked-hazlatwhore
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tripleyeeet · 9 months
Text
FEAR OF LOSING IT (4)
SUMMARY: When it's discovered that Astarion's being hunted, you take matters into your own bloody hands.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 4,235
WARNINGS: Teasing, spoilers for BG3, canon typical violence, minor character death, pining if you squint a little, feelings realized!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Day 4 is here! Prompt is "you're not scared, are you? Of Me?" So hopefully I did it justice?
Also sidenote, to anyone wanting to be on the taglist. I had a few issues tagging some people but I still put your name. Not sure why it won't let me tag so check your settings and next fic I'll try again.
CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER
-
The sun beams down as you walk along the water’s edge, carefully stepping over damp rocks and foliage with narrowed eyes. As per usual, you and Astarion are trailing behind the rest of the pack —you because of the hangover you’ve been nursing all morning; him because he lives to irritate you. 
“I don’t understand how you feel so ill. You barely had more than a few drops of that ale.” 
Slightly in front of you, Astarion steps around a patch of suspicious-looking rocks, turning to grab your arm and guide you out of the way as you scrunch up your face in disgust. 
The air is way too hot to be touched. Beneath the fabric of your tunic, you can feel your skin grow increasingly sticky, prompting you to brush off Astarion's hand but reluctantly still follow with a groan. 
“I drank more at camp,” you confess, feeling a pain radiate inside your head. One that’s almost reminiscent of the tadpole, pulsing in angry motions that make you close your eyes and quietly wince. 
Picking up on your discomfort, Astarion slows his pace, opting to walk alongside you rather than ahead. “And why in gods name did you decide to do that?”
Immediately, you shrug your shoulders, offering him nothing despite knowing the reason. Last night at the party you embarrassingly drank to forget all those thoughts. The ones filled with visions of hands and mouths gliding across your wanting skin. 
Even now you hate to admit it, but after parting ways, you were still a bit riled up. A mixture of anger and annoyance coating your soul once you finally got situated inside your tent, knowing deep down there wasn’t much you could do. Gale had already returned to camp before you so you definitely couldn’t do the deed yourself without the possibility of further embarrassment, and you sure as hell weren’t going to wander back to Astarion with your hands between your thighs, begging for release.
In the end, the only other option was to get pissed drunk, so you did. And now, you were greatly suffering the consequences in the form of a whole day’s worth of walking under the beating sun alongside an overly stubborn and nosy vampire. 
“All by your lonesome?” 
Without even having to think, he looks at you with the kind of false pity that makes you want to drown him. To lace your fingers in his perfect locks so that you can better shove his face into the water, never to hear that damned voice again. 
Gods, is it ever tempting...
Rolling your eyes, you swear under your breath and shove him aside instead, feeling the edge of your elbow make contact with his chest before you attempt to step forward, feeling his hand pull you back. 
Overall, the motion is quick and painless —a twirling rush that sends you hurtling into his frame, boxing you in in the form of a hand that rests against your lower back— but regardless it still surprises you. 
“Was it because you wanted it?”
His hand lingers against your leathers as he awaits your answer. Barely putting enough weight to truly hold you back, it quickly becomes obvious that your current stance against him is of your own volition. A choice you’ve made during a moment of weak desire as you deeply inhale the dewy air. 
“Wanted what?”
“You know.” 
At this point, you’re positive he knows that you secretly like it when he touches you. When he physically guides you through difficult terrain or lets your fingers brush when trading trinkets after a day of looting. You’ve never made it known that you dislike it —never protested, even during times of tense discussion. All you’ve ever done is make faces of annoyance, hoping he’ll take the hint.
He never does. Not even now, as you press both of your palms against his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you stare him down, does he think to move. To let his hand fall to his side to let you continue your stride. Instead, all it does is remain perfectly still, resting against the small of your back, waiting. 
It makes you swallow hard as you take a step back, feeling the resistance of your hip as it brushes through his fingers.
“You’re really not going to admit it?” he asks then, watching you pause. Feeling you stop mid-step to cock your head and flash him a grin so utterly snobbish, that his facade of confidence finally slips. 
“What? That I want to fuck you?” 
Your voice is patronizing. A pointed tongue laced with poison gunning for his throat. You want him to taste his own medicine. To feel what it’s like to be on the receiving end of taunting words that fluster, so you don’t say much more. All you do is stare, waiting for him to break.
“No, that you want me to fuck you,” he corrects almost immediately, his courage returning ten-fold. Doubling down on the way your mouth slightly opens in annoyance, because even in your boldest of moments he still manages to throw you off.
It makes you want to drown yourself instead, realizing just how persuasive he can be. Without trying, it’s as if he’s perfected every potential conversation before it’s happened. In his mind, he can look at a face —hear the beginnings of their voice and already have the correct response at the ready.
“Do you spend all your time thinking of ways to seduce anyone that gives you the time of day?” As you speak, you fully step away, turning on your heel to let out a shaky breath you pray he doesn’t catch. 
“Only the attractive ones, I suppose.” He laughs and follows behind, his footsteps echoing through the water as you attempt to catch up with the rest of the group. 
“Attractive ones, huh?” You peer over your shoulder with a raised brow. “Is that a genuine compliment you’re offering or another one of your usual deceptions meant to butter me up?”
He doesn’t tell you. Instead, he just offers you a shrug and purses his lips, leaving you guessing —an expression that only tightens the tension that’s seemingly begun to grow.
Well, at least for you. 
Since the night you let him feed, even you have to admit that you’ve found it increasingly hard to resist his charms, remembering how good it felt to just let go for a couple of moments. How, when it happened, there was an inkling of freedom that you felt was found. A new sense of clarity that arrived just as your lifeblood left. 
As much as you’d deny it if asked, you think about it often. At night, when you’re lying in your tent trying to sleep, you frequently attempt to replicate that feeling, calling upon your tadpole to replay the memory of the cold, numbness deep inside your throat.
As you step out of the water onto a patch of grass, you wish you could feel it now instead of the hangover. Instead of the sweltering heat and Astarion's piercing gaze penetrating the back of your head, waiting for another response he’ll just counter. 
It’d certainly make the daily trek you’re experiencing all the more bearable. Being able to forget about the aching in your skull for just a moment would solve at least half of your problems, maybe even two-thirds of them depending on how Astarion proceeds to act. On whether or not he walks in silence or—
“Do you smell that?”
You release a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling your impatience begin to build. “Smell what?”
He loudly sniffs beside you, his nose scrunching upwards dramatically before he turns his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t smell that?” 
“Smell w—“
  Before you even have time to react, it hits you. The foul stench of metallic burning through your mouth and nose, forcing you to cover your face with your hands.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” 
You nod, tightening the hold around your face as you continue forward, realizing you’ve somehow lost the rest of the group —something Astarion notices too, causing both of you to slightly panic.
“Oh, for fuck sakes, really? They couldn’t at least wait for us to finish our…”
As he trails off, waving his hand in the air to replace whatever words die in his throat, you catch a glimpse of an unfamiliar man up ahead, watching as the both of you continue.
“They’re probably over the hill,” you point out then, trying your best not to let the sudden nerves inside your chest get the better of you once you see the nameless man raise his hand, beckoning you closer.
“Who the bloody —do you know him?”
You look at Astarion as if he’s just said the stupidest thing known to man, still moving forward. “Ah yes, the mysterious man standing out in the open! Yes, I know him well, why?”
“Alright, no need to be cruel.” 
“Says you.”
Once again, his response fades to nothing. The argument slipping down his throat once the voice of the man calls out to you.
“Maybe he saw where the others went?”
Astarion scoffs. “Or maybe he’s the one who’s been setting up all those traps.”
“Traps?” 
You don’t remember seeing any traps. But then again, you’re not very perceptive when your head feels like it’s on the verge of splitting in half. 
“Yes, traps. The one’s I’ve been guiding you through like a fucking cattle dog!”
Letting your frustrations get the better of you shove him aside before you can think, turning to let both hands lay waste to his shoulder causing him to stumble sideways. As he does, he looks at you with hesitant curiosity; knitting his brows together while his mouth falls open into a half smile. 
An awkward laugh sounds through the pounding in your head as the footsteps draw near, prompting you to look ahead, noticing the man a few steps away, looking between the two of you. 
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 
His words sound sincere —cautious in a way that has you peeling your gaze away from Astarion's wild expression to shake your head.
“No, sorry, just a, uh—“
“A lover’s quarrel,” Astarion finishes. “You know how it is.” 
Angrily you inhale, paying his obviously entertained face no mind as you continue to survey the man now in front of you, noticing the plainness of his clothes and the unkempt hair that circles his face like a halo. 
It’s apparent then that he’s been on the road for some time now. He’s not necessarily dirty looking but quickly you realize he’s the cause of the smell, making you swallow hard in an attempt to suppress the sickness that follows. 
“Ah yes, of course. My apologies.” He laughs —as does Astarion— while you just frown in between, trying not to blow another fuse. 
“I’m sorry but can we help you?” You crane your neck and smile sweetly, letting the more deceptive side of your mind take over, prompting Astarion to quickly clue in and do the same. 
“I was just speaking to your friends up there. They told me you were falling behind.” 
“And that’s your business because?” Raising your brow, you watch him falter for a moment.
“I’ve set some traps along the path. Nothing too hidden if you’ve got a keen eye like all of you, but still, I informed them of their whereabouts.”
Informed them of their whereabouts? Please. This man’s trapping skills are abysmal at best. 
You have to bite your lip once you hear Astarion's insult in the back of your mind, knowing he’s right. It’s one thing for him to notice the traps but for the rest of your party to as well? There’s no way they would’ve noticed if not for the lack of effort put into their placings.
“Well, uh, thank you. That’s decent of you.” You nod but make no effort to move. Instead, you just stand there motionless, staring him down, waiting for him to elaborate further so that you can better gauge this man’s intentions. 
You’re certain they’re anything but innocent. Given the smell wafting off his leathers and the way he keeps glancing over at Astarion with a slight twinkle in his eye makes your suspicion only grow. Your defensive walls rising to their highest point as you look at the vampire, allowing your tadpole to reach out. 
He’s up to something.
“Yes, well, I’m not hunting the likes of you so best avoid the unnecessary conflict and clean up.” The man’s gaze slowly turns to you, a hardened grin creeping through his features, causing you to twitch. 
There’s definitely something off. Something far more sinister underneath that polite expression and overly eager attempt at making small talk but you’re still not sure what it is. Or what it means when he offers you his help. 
“Fair point, but what are you hunting, may I ask?” 
“Something terrifying?” Astarion questions. “Perhaps a dragon or a kobold?”
What if it’s you?
Your partner’s eyes shoot to yours. Immediately, they fill with something you’ve never seen before. Bordering on fear, you’re quick to notice their unexpected vigilance. The building of a thought that drives his mind to something new. 
Suddenly in an instant, he’s overly alert, the movements of his shifting pupils making you wonder if maybe this is the man Astarion's been looking out for. That somewhere in his past he took advantage of the wrong person and they’ve been enacting their revenge ever since. Honestly, it’d make sense. Vampires aren’t the most well-liked of creatures, and although, aside from Astarion you’ve never experienced the company of one, it’s become increasingly obvious he’s a special case. A vampire that excels in all deceptive measures and tactics, preying heavily on whatever victims he can get his hands on. So, it wouldn’t be far off to think this man was hired to kill him. 
Making use of the tadpole again, you reach out silently, feeling no reluctance as the face of a man appears at the back of your mind, towering over you. Black as the night itself, he shrouds you in an ocean of thick shadows that conceal his face but not his presence, and because of this, there’s a panic that rises through your chest. Clutching your lungs with clawed fingertips that threaten to burst them like balloons. 
You force yourself not to look at Astarion as the memory continues —as an angry voice echoes through your ears telling you you’re his. That you belong to him and no one else and that if you so much as step a hair out of line he’ll hunt you down. 
Before you can even react the memory fades, leaving you there to piece together the man in the vision and the hunter standing before you, knowing they’re connected by a common enemy. Strung together by a tether of motivation that ties around Astarion's throat like a tightened noose. 
He’s not here to kill him but to take him away. To snatch him right under your noses by playing the unsuspecting hero. 
“As exciting as those options are, I'm actually on the lookout for a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion but I fear he’s already long gone.”
His confirmation is all you need to let your guard rise further up. Allowing your fingers to stretch against your sides, readying their need to reach for your weapon, you merely nod your head and let Astarion take the reins. 
“Oh, what a pity. It’s always like that for creatures to run away at the illest of moments, isn’t it?” He leans in with that same devilish grin, tossing aside all previous fears in favour of this newfound information. 
“Isn’t it,” the man parrots, shaking his head with a fake laugh. “Rather unfortunate considering I’m only trying to bring him home.” 
“Home?”
The word pours from your lips with such desperation that even the hunter questions your response. Raising his brow, he only slightly leans forward with interest, clicking his tongue as he glances between the two of you. “You wouldn’t happen to know this Astarion character, would you?” 
“I don’t think I’ve heard of him.” 
“Nope.” 
You sound like two opposing sides of a coin. Astarion, ever the charmer responds with subtly, the structure of his body remaining calm and collected while you remain a ball of nerves. A tightly wound set of muscle and bone too quick on the draw for your response to be deemed believable.
“He’s dangerous, you know. A wicked thing. Or, so I’ve heard.” He’s speaking solely to you but regardless Astarion continues to control the conversation, pulling it all back with a loud hum. 
“Wicked you say? Care to elaborate.”
There’s confusion for a moment. Then acceptance, prompting the man in front of you to explain. “While he’s nothing more than a vampiric spawn, he’s still got quite the head on his shoulders. Cunning, but nothing compared to a real vampire.” 
You know Astarion’s fuming beneath his facade then. Eagerly awaiting to rip this man apart, limb by bloody limb once the opportunity arises. You can feel his emotions through the tadpole —the way they pulse in angry waves, threatening to spill out at a moment’s notice. 
Almost instantly, it forces you to push him back. Closing your eyes for a second or two, you shift thoughts of comfort to his head, letting him know that you’re there. That if the moment comes where this hunter makes his move you’ll be ready to defend him.
Thankfully, it calms him down —steadies the rousing anger that you know is still there, lingering beneath the surface. Allowing him to take a few breaths, resetting himself for the inevitable. 
“I mean, I’m no expert but considering they’re still technically vampires I feel it’s safe to assume you’re still at the risk of… oh, I don’t know, injury? A good maiming perhaps if the spawn were to be particularly famished?” 
“You’re not wrong, I suppose. Spawns are particularly powerful compared to the average but considering the sun’s high and dry I’d say we have the advantage.” 
“Do we now?”
The two of you share a glance. Astarion's tadpole squirms in time with your own and in an instant a plot is formed.
“Actually, now that you mention it I have heard tell of this Astarion fellow,” you muse, watching the man’s expression. How it changes from innocent hero to hungry hunter at the drop of a hat. 
Next to you, Astarion nods his head, echoing your words.
“You don’t say?” 
“We were actually a part of a camp not far from here last night. A big group. So, it makes sense why the name didn’t come to me sooner.” You push out a fake laugh, acting as if the whole thing’s some silly little mistake while you wave a hand through the air. “Now that you’ve reminded me though, he was definitely there, lurking about like a little leech.” 
You wiggle your fingers for dramatics, earning a scoff inside your mind that has you forcing back a genuine laugh, sensing Astarion’s annoyance. 
“You wouldn’t happen to know what way he was going?” 
This time Astarion pipes up. “I remember him saying something but, honestly, my uh, memory is a big foggy.” 
As he raises a hand to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose, you motion the man to move close. “Perhaps a bit of coin could remind my uh, lover here of the information you seek.” 
Lover, huh? 
Paying no mind to his internal dialogue, you rub your fingers together to signify your partner’s needs, watching intently as the man leans back and looks at you with slight annoyance before taking a moment, realizing he’s got nothing to lose. 
Considering the payout will more than likely cover such costs, he quickly turns his attention to the bag resting on his hip, opening it up with slow hands that you jump at the chance to catch off guard. 
Pulling a dagger off your hip, you make no sound as you drive the blade into the side of his throat. All you do is press a hand to his mouth, covering the groans that swiftly coat your fingers in blood, following him toward the ground. 
“I’d say be wary the next time you come snooping in other people’s business but I’m afraid it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” you tell him, feeling him struggle. Seeing him reach out to grab the knife that sits tightly in your hand, wedging itself further into the apex of his neck. Suddenly, it makes you realize what you’ve done. 
You’ve just killed a man in cold blood. And for the life of another killer, no less. Without so much as a thought, you drove this man straight to his grave, knowing that if you didn’t the probability of him gaining the upper hand would only grow. That if he survived and caught on to your ploy, he could’ve taken Astarion away. 
You realize then that you’re anything but ready for something like that to happen. Sure, he may be the cause of a lot of your frustrations throughout the day but somehow he manages to balance them out with his charm. With his innate ability to provide you with a space that’s begun to border the lines of comfort the more time you spend with him. 
It’d hurt too much to let him go. But it’d hurt even more knowing he’d be going back to his old life. To the one you still know so little about but feel its pain. The never-ending threat of a figure controlling his every movement. He may not have spared the details but you know the last thing he wants is to find his way back there, so you did what you had to do to prevent that. To keep him safe just as you so subtly promised. 
Breathing heavily, you let go of the knife and look toward him, asking him if he’s okay. 
“Okay? Darling, you can’t be serious!”
“What?” 
He’s kneeling on the ground beside you before anything else, reaching to grab your shoulders, pulling you roughly into his chest. “You just asked that man to pay us money and then jabbed a knife through his throat. If anyone should be asking who’s okay here, it’s me.”
“I’m fine. Are y—“
“Shhh.”
Up until now, it hadn’t occurred to you how badly you’d been shaking. Against his chest, you can feel the tremors of adrenaline take over as your head slowly lowers to his shoulder, releasing a loud and shaky breath. 
You know exactly what came over you at that moment. The fear of losing the only person that’s ever made you feel happy despite your flaws became too real and it caused you to lose all sense of preservation. 
Almost instantly, you became nothing more than a weapon —a striking blade shoved through opposing flesh. You felt the threat of the moment and your mind flew through all the other possibilities, landing on the only ending where Astarion's safety was ensured. 
Realizing this, you slowly move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling him hesitate halfway through. 
It’s obvious then you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, so you go to pull away, apologizing under your breath as you feel his grip only tighten. 
“Are you okay?”
You’re not sure why he’s asking. Or why he refuses to let you go. “Astarion, I said I’m fine.” 
“Yes but are you okay?”
One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, pulling your focus back to him. Forcing you to see the uncharacteristic care inside his eyes as he thumbs your skin. It causes your tadpole to wriggle almost uncontrollably, discovering the connection that’s there. The unspoken bond he shares with you now that you’ve proved your loyalty. It’s enough to earn your honesty. To admit that you’re not okay while he continues to hold you. 
You’re not sure why you care so much for him. Maybe it’s the attention he offers in a world where loneliness is often rampant or the way he makes you laugh even during the most unsightly moments. Either way, all you know is that in this moment you’re afraid he’ll hate you for it. For letting the curtain of snide remarks and harsh jokes slip to reveal a body of emotions too big for you to carry by yourself. 
“I couldn’t let him take you.” 
Your voice is barely above a whisper. So inaudible against the sounds of the world around you that for a second you think you’ve spoke to his mind.
“I see that. You struck him before I could even ask him to sweeten the deal.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
Astarion snorts and moves his hand, letting it glide across your cheek until it finds purchase beneath your chin. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You saw a dangerous man and took charge. Honestly, it was frightening.” 
“You’re not scared, are you?”
“Of?”
“Of me?” 
The laugh he lets go of is so full that this time you feel him shake, his frame rattling against yours as he taps your chin. “Not in the slightest, my dear. Impressed, maybe. A little bit turned on too if I’m being frank but no. Not scared.”
-
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bookshelf-dust · 2 months
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i was made to love you
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billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @suledins
word count: 1,879
warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting
a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333
————
“What’s the matter with you?”
Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one. 
He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.
But he can’t take seeing you act this way.
“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”
You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip. 
“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”
But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you. 
Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.
Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants? 
“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.
You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it. 
“Why are you doing this, Billy?”
He blinks. “Doing what?”
“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard. 
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.
You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”
Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”
Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”
You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.
He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.
“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him. 
“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”
He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.
You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”
And then it clicks.
Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.
You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.
And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.
The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.
“I don’t deserve you.” 
Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is. 
He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”
You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly. 
This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach. 
Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this. 
You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.
But now Billy does. 
“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”
Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling. 
“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”
You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.
“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”
Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis. 
“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh. 
He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder. 
He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them. 
Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me. 
His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does. 
So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied. 
To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing. 
It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.
You take a deep breath.
I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.
“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”
Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”
That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery. 
After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold. 
“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”
You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.
“That’s okay. More than okay.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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chrollohearttags · 9 months
Text
writing silly prompts with my OTP so you don’t have to • part one
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content warning: exactly as it says, voyeurism, exhibitionism, reverse cowgirl, squirting
📝: I cannot explain this even if I wanted to. Sometimes, I have a lightbulb in my head, constantly flickering and other times, it’s nothing more than wind and baked beans up here so I need help jogging my brain muscles and reviving my creative spark. Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys’ asks and I’ll get to them, as well as the commissions, I swear but I need to get my juices flowing again 🫶🏾
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Ahh! Shit…mmphm. Gonna make me come..”
“Go ahead, princess. Nut on this dick..better keep quiet though. You don’t want us to get caught..”
another peaceful Sunday stroll down South Beach’s Design District turned to a rather eventful outing. Of course, that was nothing out of the ordinary for the infamous couple. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to spend your very limited free time enjoying relaxing walks through the various shops in the heart of downtown..where you may have frequented your favorite stores and restaurants as a bit of routine in your very chaotic and ever changing schedules. It was the one constant that you could bet on in your hectic lives. However..as soothing as the mundane was sometimes…you both still craved that thrill. The excitement that came with doing something you had no business. That rush only grew tenfold when you considered the fact that you weren’t exactly inconspicuous..everyone in Miami and the world at this point knew EJ the Don and (y/n) (l/n). Everyone was looking for an excuse to photograph you two. So it was insane that you were so casually perched atop your man’s dick at a popular lounge on Ocean Drive; enjoying some semblance of privacy as you had rented out the rooftop area for yourselves but even so, if caught, you’d find yourselves front page on somebody’s blog. Right now, you just couldn’t be vexed to give a fuck. Instead…
“Fuck! I don’t care who sees, I just wanna keep—“
your words trailed off into a high pitched yelp as that tip poked the inner corner of your sensitive core. Being fucked up into like a jackhammer into concrete. A tattooed hand on your clothed tummy and inked fingers stroking your clit. All of this because you just had to wear..it. A regular, run of the mill sundress that you had probably gotten as part of PR from Fashion Nova or Shein a year ago and just decided to throw it on to combat this horrendous heat. And yet, it was getting your pussy pounded! Strutting around without so much as a thong on underneath, just in case the mood struck you. Of course, it didn’t take long for your husband to follow suit when saw the fat of that ass swaying from behind the clingy material and watched you bend over to retrieve something when that hem raised and that plump little cunt became visible..from there, neither of you could contain yourselves. Up and down with your legs propped onto the pool chair you went..rutting your hips in slow circular motions as you performed tricks on that dick. Smacking, wet noises filling the summer air. You were certain some attendee or waiter was lurking in the shadows, possibly jerking off or even filming you two but it didn’t even matter. Your only concern was coming all over him! That deep voice growling in your ear as he held you close to his chest and let you ride out your orgasm. Even shortly after, bending you over again so that he could see that ass moving against him. Shouting off expletives at each other..
“Give it to me! Fuck this pussy, daddy. Right there!..”
“Hold still, baby..gonna nut all in this shit!—“
before he could do so, you were already reaching a climatic high..clamping down on his shaft before springing up and spraying him with those sweet, divine juices. Groping one of your tits, Eren would cackle as he watched you come undone for him. Squirming all over the place with uncontrollable trembling from that powerful peak. You were still shooting out tiny streams of that squirt afterwards. Having been fucked so roughly with such impact but of course, it couldn’t be helped..
“Sorry, princess. You know what happens when you wear that shit around me. Can’t help myself..”
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fettuccin-e · 10 months
Note
Hey! Congrats again on your follower milestone! <3
From the smutty prompts, can you do number one from the nature category with Miguel, please? :))) xoxo
Hi!!! omg this prompt is soooo soft and sweet and MIGUEL FUCKING DESERVES IT!!! so thank you so so so much for requesting this is some sappy crap that i had just a grand ol time writing!!!
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, established relationship, outdoor sex (but they are literally the only ones there so no exhibitionism), unprotected piv (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), riding, sappy very cheesy very fluffy many cavities (w/c: 1.1K)
Prompt: sensual sex in a secluded meadow during a picnic. 
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He doesn’t like to go away often, but sometimes, the need to just spoil you gets to be too much. He’s away from you far too much, burying himself in work and experiments, to the point that he’s sure you’ll leave him. But you’re always there, waiting for him with a beaming smile and reaching for him like he never left.
So of course he has to spoil you.
It didn’t take LYLA long to find this dimension at his request: one where New York is empty, Central Park grown over the entirety of the city, the pavement covered in soft flowers, and skyscrapers covered in creeping vines. And God, you had practically glowed when he showed you the little picnic he had set out, a soft blanket nestled in a little grove of wildflowers, a rainbow of petals and leaves covering the lush earth. A little piece of paradise just for the two of you.
“I didn’t, um,” he stumbles over his words, heart beating out of his chest at how fucking beautiful you look, eyes alight as you look up at him with a gaze so adoring, his knees might give out on the spot. “I just brought some food from the cafeteria, since I can’t cook for shit and I um- I wanted to surprise you.”
You collide into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs as you kiss him fiercely. “It’s perfect, Miguel,” you murmur against his lips, “absolutely perfect.” He feels like you're talking more about him than the picnic, but smiles nonetheless.
You feed him little bits of fruit and empanada from the cafeteria back home, but he swears that it tastes so much better from your loving hand. He feels a little out of place here, crushing flowers beneath his hulking body. But you’re ethereal, little butterflies flitting around you, drawn to you, just as he is.
He recklessly plucks a purple flower from the ground, the prettiest one he can find, and tucks it behind your ear. Hobie would tease that he’s getting soft, but the way you giggle, light and airy and effervescent, makes his chest tight with delirious happiness, and it’s all worth it.
You meet his lips in a gentle kiss, and you taste of the strawberries he brought for you. You’re so warm, warm like pure sunlight in his hands and he can’t help but pull you into his lap, picnic forgotten, holding you like you’ll disappear in a moment. But you break from his lips, cupping his jaw and smiling in a soft, gentle way that feels like you’re here to stay forever.
He peels your dress off, slowly and deliberately, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your tits, as he bares your body to his gaze. He only takes his own clothes off when you beg him for it, rucking his shirt up over his stomach as you whine into his mouth.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and your breath catches in the back of your throat as he rubs gentle circles into your clit over your panties. “So beautiful, can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers, and with the way he’s playing with your pussy, the only thing you can do is desperately lick into his mouth as you rock your hips into his hand.
You lean into him, pushing on his shoulders ever so gently as you lay him back onto the plush blanket. He could fight back, push you onto your back instead, but something about this, the sun shining on your hair, the way you taste, how soft you are in his hands; it’s all making him melt back into the flowers as you lean over him. I can have this, he thinks to himself, I’m not going to lose this. There’s no rush.
When you eventually pull your panties to the side, letting him sink into you ever so slowly, Miguel is sure that he’s found heaven. You’re practically shining, an angel in real-time, as you roll your hips forward, clenching around him as you rake your nails down his chest in a way that makes him gasp beneath you. 
“God, look at you,” you say, before it tapers off into an agonized whine as Miguel’s cock plunges into you just right. “So perfect for me, treating me so fucking- ah, good.”
Miguel grasps desperately at your hips, trying to help you as you drop onto him over and over and over again. Your praise makes him whine, his hips jerking up to plunge into you even deeper as his mind goes fuzzy with need. ”Can’t believe you’re mine Miguel," you whimper, "Can’t believe you chose me.”
He lunges up on his arms at your words, pressing his lips to yours in a sticky kiss that has the both of you moaning in tandem. “I’ll always choose you, princesa. Mi vida, eres mi vida.”
The grove is quiet, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting over and over mixing with the sounds of his groans as you fuck yourself on his cock. You practically wail when his calloused fingers come to rest on your achy clit, rubbing hard, slow circles that have your head spinning. His cock reaches so deep like this, stretching you out, owning you in only the way that he can.
“You going to cum for me, beautiful?” he husks, sounding like he’s just run a marathon. “C’mon, baby, soak my cock with this pretty pussy.” You’re nodding furiously, bouncing desperately on his fat cock as he rubs your clit just fucking right-
You gasp, soundless and overwhelmed as you cum around him, leaning forward to kiss him, hoping to ground yourself with his mouth. Miguel curses against your lips, mumbling something in Spanish as he pulls his hand away from your clit to wrap around your back, like he can’t possibly get close enough.
He thrusts up into you once, twice, before stilling with his own orgasm. You imagine that you can feel him filling you up, claiming you in the most intimate way possible.
You break the kiss, pressing your forehead against his as you both catch your breaths. As he blinks up at you again, eyes round like he can’t believe that you’re actually here, that it wasn’t all a dream, you can’t help but giggle softly, pecking him quickly on the lips.
And he smiles, in the only way he does with you. No holds barred, unabashed happiness radiating off of him. “I love you,” he whispers, like it’s a secret.
“I love you too,” you whisper back. You breathe together, letting the calm coolness of the air rush over you both, the sounds of the breeze rustling the flowers and trees, the incessant beating of your hearts.
This is home, Miguel thinks, wrapping you tighter in his arms, I’m finally home.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
idk if this is interesting enough for a prompt, but stripper! reader (w/ either aaron or spencer, your choice :) ) where they get worried because they see her with large bruise on her side but really she just got it from a hard fall practicing a pole trick lol
ty for requesting! I thought it was more than interesting my love, 1.1k
cw past implied domestic/workplace violence
"Can I make a cup of tea or something?" 
Spencer lifts his chin before his gaze, hanging onto the line he's reading until he's finished somewhere manageable. Finally looking up, he says, "Sorry, what?" 
"Can I make some tea? Do you have anything like that? Or coffee?" you ask. 
He almost slips standing up. "I'll make you tea." 
"No, I can make it, you're reading. I just wanted to ask before I went rooting through your stuff." 
Spencer's smile is shiny, pretty, all manner of things. It says Don't be silly. "You don't have to ask, help yourself." He nudges you in your bad side. "Of course you can have tea. I'll make it." 
You wince at his contact but follow him into the kitchen without complaining. You're sick of your own narrative —yes, you're a stripper, yes, it's hard work, and you know these things but you're tired of having it be the constant identifier of your life. You really wish work stayed at work, but the half metre contusion spread up your ribs like a formidable stain won't go away. You want something warm to wash down a few painkillers and hopefully you'll fall asleep on his couch. Spencer doesn't make you go home when it gets late and you hate asking him if you can stay. Easier to knock out on his couch and have him throw a blanket over you. 
His mind must have drifted to the same place. "Did you wanna stay the night? It's getting kind of late." He opens the kitchen cabinet above the toaster oven for two mugs, and the cabinet below the sink for his stove top kettle. He peeks at you from over his shoulder when you fail to answer. "Or I can drive you home?" 
"I'll stay. Better chance of survival." 
He does that adorable nose-wrinkled frown. "I'm not a bad driver." 
"Do you have any of my cookies left?" 
You wouldn't usually ask, but you paid for them last time you came over, so you figure it's okay. 
"Sure, they're in the cabinet by the bread bin," he says, moving to the sink to fill the kettle with tap water. His face flicks between you and the task at hand. 
You open the cabinet above the bread bin, double doors creaking on their hinges. Your cookies are in a tupperware container on the very top shelf at the back. He'd probably tell you something about mould or weevils if you asked why they're up out of reach, but you're more focused on getting a sweet treat than anything. You'll ask later. You can listen to him talking until you fall asleep. 
"What is that?" 
"What's what?" you ask, though any further questioning is interrupted by your yelp, a cold hand touching your naked stomach as you set back down on your heels. 
"What happened?" Spencer asks, your shirt held by his pinky finger as his thumb moves over the bruise. It's like he's hoping it's make up to be rubbed away, and he's horrified when it stays undisturbed by his gentle touch. "Who did this? I swear, I'll–" 
"Your hands are cold," you interrupt, taking his hand in yours, peeling it off of your stomach. "And it's kind of tender, Spence." 
"What happened?" 
His tone leaves no room for jogging around. You're not reluctant to tell him for whatever reason he might assume… You and Spencer used to live very close to one another, and you'd see him at the local grocery store, a small place, without saying much. He'd smile at you. Occasionally say hi. Until one day your eye was swollen shut from the force of a cruel hand and he asked if there was anything he could do. So Spencer knows intimately how people have managed to hurt you, and he worries because it's his nature to worry. 
You'll have to tell him what happened, even if it's embarrassing, in order to wipe the concern off of his delicate features. He's angry and scared and sorry, and he has no reason to be any of those things. 
"I– okay, I wanted to practise this twist thing that Stassia showed me," you begin, meeting his eyes with bashful reproach, "you don't have to be so worried. I was practising, or trying to, but it gets cold in the private room and I was shivering and my hands were aching, so I thought I could put on my sweatpants and try again but, you know, you need the–" 
"Friction," he interrupts, looking down at your bruise with a rather ironic smile. "You fell off of the pole?" 
"Yes, and you don't have to sound so happy about it." 
"I'm not," he says, rubbing at the sore fat of your hip apologetically. "I'm glad it wasn't, you know, what I thought it was, but– I mean– how hard did you fall?" 
"I thought I broke my ribs." 
He laughs. It's as soft as his touch. "I bet you did…" 
"Any more touching and I'll think you want to tip me." 
Spencer laughs and winces simultaneously, dropping your shirt back into place and neatening the hem "Right, sorry." He steps back half a step before stepping forward again, his arms quick to wrap around you in a sweeping but brief hug. "Thanks for telling me." 
"Super sarcastic, Dr. Reid." 
He peels away from you to light the stove unsuccessfully. Your side is throbbing at being remembered, your head with embarrassment, and that cup of tea just isn't coming quick enough. The phantom of his fingerprints linger.
You follow Spencer to the stove and push your hip into his, pushing the stove top knob in with the sparker until it catches. 
"Don't make a joke about my hands." 
"I wasn't going to," he says earnestly. The back of his knuckles touch your elbow. "You could tell me the next time you do something like that. You should. I want to know if you have a bruise the size of a watermelon." 
"If I told you every time something was wrong with me we'd always be talking about what's wrong with me," you say, though you press your cheek to his shoulder appreciatively. 
"Good," he says simply. 
"Good," you repeat, surprised. 
You stay like that until the kettle whines, your cheek on his shoulder. Oddly, it's as though you've taken a weight off.
Spencer gives you the princess treatment for the rest of the night, as though helping him make dinner or washing the dishes will stop your bruise from healing. He even pops out to the store for a tube of arnica. It's, shamefully, one of the best days of your entire year, easily making the top ten, as most days with Spencer tend to do. 
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cupid-styles · 4 months
Note
ballerina + hockerry … so I hear you’re into pain 😗⁉️
YUPPPP!!!!! making this a continuation of this blurb !
2. "So I hear you're into pain?"
smut prompts
patreon | talk to me
. . .
Maybe hooking up with Malcolm after the hockey game was a mistake.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd only gone home with him because she knew word would travel back to Harry, and she for some reason wanted him to feel even shittier about beating him up on the ice.
When she left the hockey arena that evening, hand-in-hand with Malcolm, hoping one of Harry's teammates would snap a picture to send to him and ruin his night even more, she felt a bead of guilt drip down her chest.
The guilt only grew when Malcolm fucked her into the mattress that evening. He was fine, but nothing special. They clearly weren't compatible sexually — she kept asking him to smack her ass and pull her hair, but he'd only slow his thrusts to ask if she was sure.
Of course she was sure.
The following night, when she's at one of the local bars in town with a few friends from ballet, she wants to curl into a ball when she glances up from her wine to see Harry walking towards her with a smirk on his lips.
She can only assume where this is going.
"So," he simpers, bumping his hip up against the bar top to face Y/N, "I hear you're into pain?"
She grimaces, clenching her jaw as she sends a death glare his way. "Leave me alone."
"Was he even able to get it up with the way I punched his sorry ass into the ice?"
Y/N rolls her eyes, leaving her half-full glass behind on the bar as she turns around and meanders towards the bathroom. Harry's quick on his feet, determined to find out any other details about her night with Malcolm. In all honesty, his stomach dropped when he heard his teammates talking about her this morning. Apparently, one of them was friends with Roan, the captain on Malcolm's team, and Malcolm wouldn't shut the fuck up about her wanting him to throw her around.
Malcolm had allegedly thought it was weird. Harry couldn't be more turned on by the thought of grabbing her hips, issuing harsh smacks to her ass, spitting in her mouth, and choking her until her eyes rolled back.
But that was beside the point.
"You didn't answer my question," Harry catches up to her, cornering her in the hallway where the bathrooms are. Y/N huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Was he able to fuck you the way you needed, princess?"
"I told you to leave me alone." she mumbles, though she doesn't make a move to slip away from him.
"I'll take that as a no, then."
"Was he talking shit?" Y/N asks suddenly, a flash of hurt glinting over her facial expression. "Did he tell people about what we did?"
Harry shrugs. "Not exactly. Just about what you asked him to do."
"Pussy," she mutters.
He chuckles softly. Maybe it's the alcohol in his system, but when he glances down at her shorter stature, he can't help but admire how pretty she looks. He swears her eyes glimpse up at his lips, but her gaze falters a mere moment later.
"If it makes you feel any better," he murmurs, leaning forward slightly to catch the shell of her ear, "I would give you all that and more."
Y/N's face warms. Suddenly, it's all too much — he's far too close, and she realizes that he knows more information about her sex life than she ever would have wanted. She quickly presses her hands against his chest and pushes him away, nostrils flaring with a fire in her eyes.
"Fuck you," she spits, "You fucking wish you could ever get that close to me."
The anger in her words sends a chill down Harry's spine, and he's left alone in the empty bar hallway when she returns to her friends.
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wallflowerimagines · 1 year
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Howdy dowdy, Partner. It's me, ya boi, Skinny Penis.
How would the Lords react to a selectively mute S/O? Especially their reaction to them talking to them for the first time.
I have this mental image of Heisenberg's S/O saying something really casually (while they're relaxing or something), and he just whips around to look at them and he just shouts "hoLY FUCK!"
Saw the first line of this ask and then it was followed by a cute prompt????---
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Warnings: swearing, my typical brand of silly
Alcina Dimitrescu
She's so used to your quiet demeanor it's to the point where she COMPLETELY forgot that your silence is a choice.
Alcina quite honestly never expected you to speak to her, and she was mentally planning for the rest of your relationship to be this way -- all of the servants are learning to sign, just in case, and she has pens and paper in every room if you prefer to write as your form of communication.
When you do finally speak up, she's frozen. What.
Oh. You can. You...can speak?
It's one of the times you've ever seen Alcina baffled, because honestly? She has no idea what to do.
However, you can bet she IMMEDIATELY analyses the situation in order to make sure she can get you to keep talking to her. Whatever made this happen needs to be repeated as much as possible -- Now that she knows you can be made comfortable enough to speak, she needs to hear you speak again.
(It might not have been your intention, but you hit her right in the superiority complex. Her partner spoke to HER. JUST her. Exclusively. Alcina is going to be riding this high for decades)
The Lady Dimitrescu is a big believer in positive reinforcement with her loved ones, so you better believe that every time you speak she is extra affectionate, because she does like to hear your voice!💞
Essentially, you have prompted constant affection DO NOT RESIST---
Donna Beneviento
I mentioned this in my other Donna x Mute reader post, but Donna is able to relate to a mute s/o a lot.
She's pretty nonverbal herself, so often you two have moments of quiet peace, where the two of you are doing your own thing together in the same room, taking breaks only to hold hands, cuddle, and kiss each other sweetly.
Truly dreamy💕💕💕
The first time you speak to her though, she's sewing a new outfit for one of her dolls, while you're reading in the setee beside her.
You peak over her shoulder, clear your throat and say: "You're really talented, Donna".
She drops a stitch.
Her face is burning underneath her veil. The first thing you say to her is a complement??? About a skill she is actually proud of??? That's already enough to get her heart stuttering, but you said her name.
It feels like such a small thing, but it sends Donna into a tizzy. Your lips formed the syllables of her name, and she can't get over it. You said a compliment and her name in the same sentence.
She's swooning. Smitten. Overcome.
Expect some flustered giggling and a compliment in return.
Salvatore Moreau
Salvatore has no chill whatsoever.
He literally drops everything and scuttles across the room to stand in front of you, flitting his hands around you in excitement, not quite touching you but close.
He's! So! Excited!
He didn't process what you even said-- you SPOKE TO HIM!!!! Fireworks are going off in his brain, Kool and the Gang are celebrating the good times, life is beautiful and love is in the air....
Moreau is delighted by this development. You feel safe enough around him a monster to vocalize your thoughts. You trust him. He already knew you did, but this is confirmation he didn't even know he wanted. Moreau almost starts crying he's so relieved.
Meanwhile you're repeatedly trying to warn him about the disaster occurring on the stove.
"... Salvatore, honey, the pancakes are burning."
Honey???? HONEY??? Are you TRYING to kill him????
Salvatore staggers on his feet, unintentionally the most dramatic you've ever seen him.
Sighing, you hide a smile behind your palm and give him a little smooch on the cheek before you go rescue your breakfast.
Moreau flatlines. Better give him some mouth to mouth 💗.
Karl Heisenberg
Absolutely shocked the first time you speak.
He's working on a soldat, fully used to the silence as he solders body parts together to make a deadly monster worthy of murdering Mother Miranda.
"You missed a spot--"
jESUS FUCK
Very softly, you speak up again. "At the shoulder. It's not... It's not fully connected."
Heisenberg whips around to just...stare??? At you for a bit?? His face is totally expressionless, but make no mistake his brain is reeling.
What is he supposed to do here? You feel comfortable enough to talk with him--this is a big deal, right? Is he supposed to comfort you? Praise you?
Still, it's not in Heisenberg's nature to make a big deal of things, and he doesn't want to spook you.
Eventually he nods, grunts in acknowledgement, and gets back to work.
Still, your words ring in his ears. Your voice fits you so well? He never really thought about what you sounded like before, but honestly now it's all he can think about.
Much later, when you almost forget about the whole thing, he'll offhandedly say he's proud of you for finally speaking up for yourself.
It's kinda condescending? But you know Heisenberg pretty well, and the fact he refuses to meet your eyes let's you know he's just being his normal, socially stunted self.
Thank him for the "compliment" and you'll get a pleased grin back, as well as a teasing hair ruffle. He's...happy you're comfortable with him.
It just makes your relationship feel even more right. ❤️
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Text
Blind Dates // Hazel Callahan
request: College Au! Hazel x reader, PJ and Josie trying to set up reader with someone else and reader tells at them " I just want Hazel! " And ofc she hears that...
prompts: none
summary: after being set up on numerous unsuccessful blind dates in your attempt to get over hazel, you’re just about ready to give up on ever finding a partner. but what happens when hazel finds out about your feelings for her?
warnings: pj being kind of a dick
word count: 1.3k
a/n: gn!reader, reader is implied to be bi/pan
join my taglist!
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“Y/n!” Josie called as she practically ran across the quad to reach you, PJ following behind her.
Josie looked ecstatic, which could only mean one thing. She had set you up on yet another blind date. At first you thought it was sweet that your friends had wanted you to get with someone, especially after your continuous complaints about being single, but now you were just tired of it. None of the dates were successful, and after last week's one with that air-headed jock, you didn’t want any part of PJ and Josie’s “matchmaking skills”.
You forced a smile as Josie and PJ reached you, trying not to show how fed up you were with all of this. “Hey guys,” you said, acting as if you didn’t already know what they were up to.
Josie sat down beside you on the bench, trying to catch her breath from having run over to you. “So, do we have news for you!” Josie finally said, grinning excitedly.
Josie opened her mouth to continue speaking, only to be immediately cut off by PJ. “Josie got you another date. And hopefully this one’ll actually work out so you’ll finally stop bitching about being single.”
“You do that too, y’know,” you shot back, irked by PJ’s abrasive personality.
She just grinned in response. “Yeah, but it’s not annoying when I do it.”
“Anyways…” Josie cut in, trying to get the conversation back on topic. “You have a date tonight at 8pm. Her name is Lacy, she’s a science major, and I showed her your picture and she thinks you’re cute.”
“No thanks,” you huffed, not even trying to disguise your disinterest.
Josie and PJ looked baffled by your response, not understanding why you would shut this down.
“No thanks?” PJ asked, scoffing as she shoved your shoulder. “Is this about that last date we sent you on? I swear, I didn’t know he was so… dull. That one’s on Josie. But you need to go, Lacy’s interested and you need to not be single any more.”
“Yeah, I really should’ve known better than to set you up with a guy named Chad. But Lacy’s really great, I think you’d like her,” Josie said, sounding much less forceful than PJ.
You shook your head, dismissing both of their points. “I get it, and I’m sure Lacy’s nice, but I just can’t keep doing these blind date things. This is like the fifth one. And besides… I’m kinda interested in someone else.”
“Wait, seriously? So you’re telling me that we wasted all of that time trying to set you up with people, and you like someone else?!” PJ grumbled, annoyed at you despite having had little to no part in the actual setting you up with someone part of things.
“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped you try to get with them,” Josie said, a bit disappointed about things, but not nearly as upset as PJ.
You sighed, looking at the ground as you fiddled with your necklace. “Because, it’s never gonna happen. She’d never be interested in me. And I really do appreciate you guys trying to set me up with someone, but I just want Hazel.”
Unbeknownst to the three of you, Hazel was heading over to you guys, completely unaware of the topic of discussion, which just so happened to transition to her. But as she walked over, she did manage to catch the last thing you said. Her eyes widened and she felt her heart flutter in her chest. Hazel would be lying if she said she didn’t have a major crush on you. One that she’s been harboring since high school. And to hear you say that you liked her back… that was just about the best thing that ever could’ve happened to her.
“Oh… Hazel! Hey…” PJ said awkwardly, finally noticing the girl’s presence.
You immediately tensed up and felt your face grow hot. Your mind raced in panic, hoping and praying that Hazel didn’t just hear what you had said.
“Hey guys! Whatcha talking about?” Hazel asked, sitting down on the other side of the bench, sandwiching you between her and Josie.
“Science homework!” “Clothes!” Josie and PJ blurted out at the same time.
You felt yourself growing increasingly nervous, especially with Hazel sitting so close to you, and you became desperate for an out. So you took what Josie said and ran with it.
“Speaking of science homework, I better get going. I have a paper I have to finish. Bye!” you rambled, hurriedly grabbing your things before bolting off in the direction of your dorm room, leaving your friends behind.
“Well that was weird…” Hazel said.
PJ shrugged, “You know y/n. They’re always like that. Really weird.”
“Anyways, while we’re talking about y/n, I need your guys’ help with something…”
~
You grumbled as you trudged over to your door, the incessant knocking driving you mad. You threw open the door, ready to rip whoever was on the other side a new one, when you came face to face with Josie, who had that same ecstatic look on her face that always appeared when she had secured you another date.
“No! I’m not going on another blind date! I’m sure Lacy’s great, but I told you that-”
“It’s not with Lacy,” Josie said, cutting you off.
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I thought you were setting me up with Lacy tonight?”
Josie waved her hands dismissively, “Yeah, I was. But… now it’s with someone else. Just trust me, okay?”
“I already told you-”
“I know. But please, just this last one. And then I’ll never bring it up again. I promise.”
You contemplated this for a moment. On one hand, you really didn’t want to go on another blind date. But on the other hand, you really did want Josie and PJ to stop bothering you with all of this. What was the harm of spending one more night on a horrible date to finally get Josie and PJ to leave this alone?
You sighed, giving in. “Alright, fine. But this is the last one.”
“Great!” Josie said, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.
“Josie, what are you doing?”
“Taking you to your date.”
“What?! Now?! I look horrible! Don’t you at least want me to attempt to have a successful date?”
“It’s fine! And besides, you look great! You always do. So stop complaining, and have fun!” she replied, pushing you towards an open door before you could even process whose room it was.
“Wait-” you said, turning around to talk to Josie, only to have the door slammed shut, leaving you alone in some rando’s dorm room.
“Great,” you mumbled under your breath, turning around to see who you were stuck with for the next hour or so, only to see Hazel standing there, smiling awkwardly.
“Hi…” she said, taking a step towards you.
“Hazel? You’re who Josie set me up with?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But only because I asked her to. I… I kinda overheard you in the quad today.”
You felt your stomach sink at her words. “...You did?”
“Mhm. And I was going to say something to you, but I wasn’t like entirely sure that it was me you were talking about cause I don’t know how many other Hazels are here. So I asked PJ and Josie to help me because I didn’t want to embarrass myself.”
You smiled at her words, feeling a tiny bit less nervous. “So I guess it’s safe to assume that you like me too?”
Hazel laughed softly as she nodded again. “Yep. I’ve actually liked you since high school…”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. Is that bad…?”
You quickly shook your head, finally walking over to her. “No! It’s just… I’ve liked you since high school too. God, we’re such idiots.”
Hazel smiled. “We really are.”
“So… what did you have planned for our date?”
“I thought we could maybe watch a movie? I asked Josie what your favorite one was. If that’s okay with you…?”
You nodded excitedly, sitting down on Hazel’s bed, Hazel quickly following suit. “Definitely, but only if we watch your favorite movie too.”
Hazel smiled, leaning her head against your shoulder. “I’d love that.”
tags: @hazelvrr @ohnomywenis
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jaegerluvss · 3 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈— 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: short fic ( SFW )
> 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 :: Hi hii (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ ! ! Umm…so (◕‿◕) Let’s not talk about how I just disappeared for like 4 months lol… school has been taking up so much time lately, and I’ve been so stressed that I never really had the time to come on here to write :p But thats okay! Everyone has their off days! Or months in my case (//▽//) This specific prompt has been sitting at the back of my mind for the longest time, so i suppose now is the perfect time to actually write it !! Hope you guys enjoy <33
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“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do that.” Your boyfriend 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 huffs as he shoves past you with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh come on babe!” You whine, following right behind him as you wave your eyeshadow palette around. “It’s only a little! I swear I won’t post it anywhere or show anybody, it’s just gonna be between us. You would look so cute!’
Katsuki snorts as you say that, swirling around with his arms crossed as he glared down at you.
“Shit, if I got anything out of it maybe I’d agree. What’re you willin’ to do? Cause I for sure ain’t gonna do it without something in return.” He says, a smug smile appearing on his face.
You cross your arms back at him, lifting your head up and looking him straight in the eyes.
“…I’ll get you that new Zelda game you’ve been wanting. Tears of the kingdom, is it called?” you say, knowing he would never back down from such an opportunistic moment. ( Off topic but i headcanon that bakugou is a HUGE botw fan. Horikoshi told me himself! )
You see his face falter a bit as he stares at you in shock.
“Wha—you know thats like $70 right? You would waste $70 just to put some shit on my face that Imma wipe off anyway?” He replies, not thinking you’re serious.
You nod your head. “Yes. I would! Now will you let me do it or not?” You say, swinging makeup brushes in front of his face.
You can see him contemplating everything for a moment before giving in, sighing loudly and scratching the back of his neck.
“Fine. But you better get me the game after like you promised.” He groaned.
You squeal loudly in excitement as you take his hand quickly, dragging him over to the couch to get things started.
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Katsuki was layed on the couch comfortably as you were sat on his lap, carefully applying some bright pink eyeshadow on his lids. Every time you tapped something on, his face would scrunch up and crinkle, ruining your ability to do it precisely.
“Katsuki, I swear if you move one more time! You’re making me mess up!” You huff at him.
He rolls his eyes, pushing the brush away from his face as he tried to sit up.
“Its not my fucking fault that thing is itchy as hell. Why d’ya gotta add so much?” He complains.
“Its all part of the process! Now just stay still and look pretty, I’ll do the rest.” You say, pushing him back down and dabbing more eyeshadow onto your brush.
You can hear him sigh in annoyance as he lays back down, grumbling to himself.
“You’re lucky I love you…” you hear him say.
You try not to smile at his comment but a small grin takes shape as you mix in some glitter with the pink.
𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐯𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !
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cyxnidx · 7 months
Text
GONNA BREED YOU.
KINKTOBER FESTIVAL : DAY 9 → ITTO ARATAKI.
prompt: g'na put a pretty baby in you.
pairing: itto x afab!reader
rating: nsfw/smut
content warning(s): breeding, rough sex if you squint, unprotected sex
a/n: breeding kink go bbrrrrrrrrrr, nsfw under the cut!
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"you alright there?" itto questioned, breathing heavy as he slowly slid his dick into you, inch by inch.
he knew he was stretching you - regardless of how long he fingered you, ate you out and made you cum. but at least it made things a little easier.
you nod slowly, tears rolling down your cheeks at the burning sensation of his stretch.
"i know sweetheart, i know.." he kisses your tears. "just a little more, okay?"
with a few more soft thrusts, itto was able to bottom out, softly bullying himself into your plush cunt.
feeling you clench around his cock, body writhing as you struggled to adjust for the first time had itto's imagination running wild.
though, he resisted his urges. for your sake, he'd ignored them for a while. ensuring your comfort, he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your waist.
in hopes of making things a bit better for you.
"you still okay?" itto questioned again, kissing down your neck to your collarbone and trailing to your chest.
the feeling of his cock nestled deep in you made you feel full - almost overwhelmed in a way.
for a while, the closest you've gotten with itto as far as sex went, was simply you receiving head or him fingering you. or even mutual masturbation.
and for a while, you understood why he never actually fucked you during the masturbation between you two. he was big - it wasn't a surprise, but it was intimidating first-hand.
but, it only made you even more curious for the experience. you were sure it'd be a bit painful, but apart from the pain, what else was there to be so afraid of?
after addressing your concerns with itto.. it was needless to say he was onboard. though, he was still worrisome regardless.
"want me to move?" he questioned, somewhat getting needy. he looked at you softly, red eyes looking at you with adoration.
you nod, watching him reposition himself. his larger hands gripped your waist softly, yet firmly, as he slowly drew himself out and back in.
he watched your expression closely as you watched his dick reappear for a moments time before delving back into your cunt.
your head fell back as you exhaled from the feeling of being full again.
itto pulled your body closer to his, upping his pace by a little bit. "this good?"
"faster," you tell him lowly. "jus' a little."
his eyes soften at your request, following through. a smile grew when he felt you clench around him, pretty noises flowing from your mouth.
your mind began to spiral, sometimes wondering how you went from such a soft, caring moment to him plowing your body into the mattress.
face pushed into a pillow, you practically screamed as he plowed his cock deep into your poor cunt, hitting a specific spot that sent you into orbit each and every time.
and with each orgasm you had, you got louder and louder.
he flipped your body over, your back against the mattress as he continued to fuck you through your next orgasm.
you'd lost count of how many there were.
"gonna cum.." itto huffed quietly, just loud enough for you to hear him.
your eyes brightened at the confession.
though, you quickly frowned when you felt him begin to pull out. clenching over him, you noticed he stopped abruptly at the feeling.
"no.." itto mumbled, hands shaking around your waist. "baby, loosen up for me," he told you, looking at you expectantly.
you shook your head, arms reaching for his face. you brought his face close to yours and softly kissed him.
"baby, m' gonna cum," he whined, straining himself with all his might not to cum.
"cum in me," you tell him, wrapping your legs around his hips. "cum inside."
you could swear the way itto looked at you changed the moment you said that. it almost looked like a primal drive had taken over.
and before you knew it, he was pounding into you once again. he looked at you intently before throwing his head back from pleasure as he approached his climax.
looking back down at you, pink flushed his cheeks as his eyes took in your figure. "g'na put a pretty baby in you.." he huffed, moving one of his hands onto your belly, pressing lightly. "you'd look so pretty.."
his pupils were blown out, breath beginning to get uneven as his thrusts got lazy and lost rhythm.
biting into your shoulder, he muffled his groans as he continued to drive himself to his orgasm.
seconds later, you felt a new warmth inside you, paired with itto's mindless babbling.
fucking his cum into you, itto mumbled sweet nothings into your ear, filling you to the brim with his essence and yours combined.
it took him a while to recuperate, finally looking you in the eye again. his pupils went back to normal and his breathing steadied.
kissing over your collarbone, he thanked you for allowing him to cum inside you.
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moonstrider9904 · 2 months
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Don't Blame Me
This one shot is for the Bad Batch Prompt event using the prompt:
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”
Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader
Tags: 18+ strictly. Minors should not interact with this or any of my writing pieces as they are content for adults only. Smut, sexual tension, foul language and swearing, oral (female receiving) sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, flirting.
Playlist: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift
@arctrooper69 Tagging you right here :D
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A night like that one was much too rare. The sun had just finished going down beneath the horizon, and the faintest hue of blue still lit the sky while the stars had already begun their nightly dance. The breeze was warm on your skin, even with the drops of water that lingered on you as you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet and calves still in the water, your hands running down your wet hair as you sighed and took in the life of the moment. The speakers played chill tunes, easy to listen to, perfect to vibe with the summery air and the laughs coming from all around the pool.
You looked around and smiled at the fact that all of your favorite troopers were there, and even some you hadn’t seen before—probably shinies who had just joined their platoons. Boys from the 501st, 212th, hell, even the 99s had bothered to come to a summer pool night on Naboo for their shore leave.
You couldn't help but laugh and think you’d seen it all when, across the pool, you saw that silver-haired sniper taking a sip from a bright cocktail. And his eyes were on you too, glaring, but you were used to that. You shot a cheeky grin at Crosshair only for him to roll his eyes and look away.
Your gaze remained on him for a little longer until you heard somebody diving into the pool, and when you looked at the crystalline water lit by the warm bulbs submerged in it, you quickly realized it was Fives as he emerged from under the water running his hands up his face and towards the back of his head, brushing the hair away. In that pose, Fives opened his arms and flexed, showing off his biceps as he shot you his signature charming grin, winking at you.
“These babies have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you, sweetheart,” Fives beamed.
Laughter escaped you—as much as you adored Fives, his attempts at flirting were always a sight to behold. Something about young, handsome soldiers tripping over their feet for your attention made you wish all summer nights were like that one, and to follow along with Fives’ game, you crossed one leg over the other, planted your hands firmly on the ground at your sides and shrugged, pursing your lips together.
“I don’t know, they kinda look the same to me,” you teased him.
“Don’t listen to him,” you heard the voice next to you as Jesse took a seat beside you only to fully get into the pool and swim over next to Fives, adopting his same pose. “I actually think I pull it off better, and I only lift half as often as he does. It’s like I don’t even have to try.”
“Oh, shut up!” Fives yelled, grinning mischievously as he brushed his hand and forearm over the water’s surface in Jesse’s direction, splashing him.
“That’s how you wanna do it, you runt?” Jesse played along and began splashing back.
As if that gesture were a galactic beckoning for the clones, the pool almost instantly became filled with troopers wanting to partake in the splash battle. You giggled as you watched them splash and wrestle playfully—the scene in front of you was probably the best definition of “boys being boys.” You loved it, and laughter wouldn’t stop leaving you. For the duration of that night, you hadn’t enjoyed anything more than what was currently playing out in front of you.
However, across the pool, the same pair of piercing amber eyes glared past the scene and into you, but you weren’t taking notice of that anymore.
It only took a few seconds for the clones’ splash war to no longer be about you, and the water flying in from multiple directions was beginning to get out of hand. Wiping a couple of drops that had fallen near your eyes, you got up and made your way towards the chair where you’d left your things. You slipped your feet into your sandals, smiling at the sound of the racket behind you blending with the music, and then you took the cream-colored shawl you’d taken to the party and wrapped it around your hips in a makeshift skirt. You were in the mood for a drink now, but while the water wars ended, you figured you’d hit the powder room to adjust your suit.
Crosshair watched you from where he stood, his eyes following your silhouette as you walked from the pool to the lounge. Every time your right leg came forward, your skin was exposed by the edges of the fabric wrapped around your hips, offering him a teasing glimpse of your thigh. He picked up on the sway of your hips, the delicate left and right of every step that you took, partnered perfectly with your hands coming back and forth in tandem with your stride. As you walked past the chairs and the tables, Crosshair took in how gracefully your hair framed your face, as well as how perfectly the top of your bathing suit framed your breasts and the top half of your belly, letting him see the skin just above your belly button only for the smoothness to stop just above your womb, where the shawl began.
Fuck. He suppressed a groan. Did you even have any idea how sensual you looked? Clearly you didn’t, why else would you waste yourself on all those amateurs trying to impress you with a basic flex and a splish-splash of water?
You’d made it to the common mirror just outside the restrooms and looked at your reflection in the flattering warm lighting. You combed through your hair using your fingers, trying to achieve a carefree look, a blend between messy and done that seemed right for the night. When you were done with that, you eased a few creases on the fabric of your shawl and tightened the knot—you didn’t want that getting loose on accident—and you smoothed out the top of your bathing suit as well. Once you were ready to head back out into the party, you turned around and began making your way where you came from. Your thoughts on what cocktail you were gonna get were interrupted by a tall, lean silhouette dressed in black coming into view. The sight of those amber eyes made you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on your lips.
“Look who finally decided to socialize,” you teased him.
Crosshair scoffed, his eyes looking aside as he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t waste my time or energy with you.”
You placed your hands over your heart, faking a heartache. “Must you hurt me so?”
“I’m not particularly happy with you,” Crosshair crooned.
You giggled. “You’re never happy with anyone. And you of all people have no reason to hold anything against me, you never even let yourself open up to me.” Your gaze softened and you took a step towards him, holding your fists behind your back and pouting up at him. “Why won’t you let me in, Crosshair?”
Again, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”
“Something tells me you did,” you answered. “Here I am, what do you want with me?”
“Nothing,” Crosshair nearly spat the word out.
You raised a brow. No one in that party could deny how insightful you were, not even him.
Crosshair scoffed again. “Fine, I’ll bite.”
“Please do,” you couldn’t resist the urge to say.
“Maybe I didn’t like the way the others were making fools out of themselves for your attention,” Crosshair glared. “It was pathetic to watch.”
“Ah,” you crossed your arms, nodding slowly. “So you’re jealous.”
“Fuck, no,” Crosshair smirked. “I just wouldn’t be caught dead being a complete idiot like that.”
“So you aren’t jealous?” You smirked back.
“No.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to stab someone?” Your smirk widened.
You’d cornered him, and Crosshair hated that. He was used to always having the upper hand, the higher ground, to being on top of everything. Nothing could ever surprise him, and when it did, it only meant he’d screwed up. The fact that you had just done that in the most leisurely of settings made him want to puke.
“Forget this,” he said, his silhouette beginning to turn around.
“I didn’t take you for the type to run away, Crosshair,” you said as your hands went over to your hips and you shifted your weight onto your left side, emphasizing the curves of your silhouette.
Crosshair faced you again, his gaze darkening at the little pose you’d adopted. You noticed his eyes running down your body, but when they met yours again, his gaze hardened.
“Fuck you,” he said, without hesitating.
You scoffed, looking at him from head to toe as well. “Fuck me yourself, you coward. I’d like to see if you can.”
He scoffed, his thin lips curving into a smile as he made his way towards you painfully slowly. Hovering in front of you, he took his fingers up to your chin, tilting your face up, making your breath hitch despite your witty exterior.
“You better be damn serious about that, doll,” Crosshair purred with hungry eyes.
“What, did I stutter?” Your breath shook as you whispered, and your hand snaked up his abdomen and felt his chest over the black shirt he wore. “What other way do I have to tell you I want this?”
The hand that was on your chin traveled back and down to cup the side of your neck, firm, but never hard enough to hurt you. Crosshair’s fingertips rested gently on your nape, and his other hand went up and joined the first in perfect symmetry. He pressed his body closer to yours, never breaking eye contact with you, and your heart beat so fast you were afraid he’d be able to hear it through your chest. He was devastatingly handsome, looming over you, watching you with lustful eyes foreboding passion. It didn’t matter where you were. It didn’t matter if there were people outside—they were enjoying their own night, they didn’t have to be involved in what only concerned you and Crosshair. All that mattered was the sensation of his hands on your skin, your hands over his chest, and the heat beginning to boil low in your stomach.
You half-expected another snarky remark, another sneer coming from Crosshair just to test the waters, but you basked in the mercy of the satisfaction that came when Crosshair finally crashed his lips down on yours. He stepped towards you and you stepped backwards, stumbling into the bathroom for him to lock the door behind him when you were both already inside. The music continued to boom from the party outside, as did the cheers and the laughter from everyone blissfully ignorant of the fire catching between you and the marksman. You didn’t have to worry about being heard.
You blindly walked backwards with your fists tugging at Crosshair’s shirt, your mind swarming with the concept of him as he devoured your lips with luscious kisses and mischievous nibbles. You felt your back bump into the wall next to the sink, and he pressed you onto it, letting you feel the erection growing under his pitch-black boxer bathing suit. You whimpered at the hardness and let your hands travel up his chest and around his shoulders until the tips of your fingers found his silver hair, which you twirled and tugged hoping to get a sound from him. Crosshair pleased you by letting out a low grunt and grew more passionate with every tug you gave to his hair.
One of the hands that was on your neck traveled down to your waist and kneaded your flesh with his fingertips, freeing your neck for him to take his kisses down to that sensitive skin he so badly wanted to mark. You shuddered when you first felt Crosshair suck on your neck, and you were astounded at his ease to find your sweetest spot. He nibbled and sucked such that you were certain there would be a maroon mark on your skin, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were enjoying the idea of coming out of that bathroom with that mark on your neck for everyone to see, and something told you Crosshair would get a kick of it as well, parading you in front of everyone else to show them how it’s really done.
When he was finished with your neck, Crosshair moved down your body leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles whilst feeling every inch of your body he could, including your hardened nipples over the fabric of your swimsuit, until he was on his knees in front of you. His hands greedily squeezed the flesh of your buttcheeks as he focused his kisses on your lower abdomen, just above the line where your shawl and the bottom of your bathing suit began. Unwilling to wait much longer to finally taste you, Crosshair curled his fingers around your bathing panties and pulled them down your legs with ease. You stepped out of them for him to hand them to you for you to hold in one hand, and when your other hand went to undo your top, he was quick to stop you.
“No, doll,” Crosshair purred. “You’re keepin’ that on.”
You giggled at him in response, and by his actions, he didn’t intend for you to remove that shawl either. Part of you would have preferred for Crosshair to have already been shirtless at this point, but any sort of thought faded when Crosshair took one of your legs and wrapped it around his back—it was only until then you became aware that your aching cunt was finally exposed to him.
Crosshair split the fabric of your shawl and placed it over your hips to keep it out of the way; he held your butt with one hand to keep you steady while he used his index and thumb fingers on his other hand to lift the hood of your clit. Your mind barely had a second to ponder on the fact that he knew what he was doing, and when you felt his tongue begin to brush over the pearl of your clit, your whole world faded. A deep moan escaped you, and your head fell back to the wall as your chest heaved at every sensation Crosshair gifted you with. You slipped farther from sanity and nearer into bliss, feeling he’d tip you over the edge in an obscenely small amount of time.
Switching between luscious kissing and precise sucking, Crosshair turned you from confident temptress to whimpering mess, pleased at the idea of having you at his mercy. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, and your hand reached down to find his hair again, twirling and tugging at his beautiful silver locks. You drew a moan from Crosshair, and its vibrations resonated deep within your flesh, finally finishing you off. Your already helpless moaning turned into pleading mewls as the pleasure that focused on your clit exploded into beautiful flames invading every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed as you squirmed, knowing it was only Crosshair’s grip keeping you upright. You were oblivious to the amount of times you whimpered his name, you only had the headspace to rut your hips against him, as if you weren’t feeling enough mind-erasing pleasure already.
You wanted more. You wanted his fullness, his touch. You wanted him.
Crosshair emerged from between your legs as if he were coming up for air after a long swim. You were dazzled, panting in the aftermath of every wave of pleasure you’d just felt, but you managed to look down and see him smirking proudly. Crosshair grunted as he stood up, towering over you again, and just when you were beginning to make sense of the world around you again, you saw him pulling down his bathing shorts to reveal a long, hard erection waiting just for you.
You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, making him chuckle with pride.
“Got room for some more?” Crosshair asked.
You nodded frantically, and without hesitation, Crosshair firmly grasped your ass and lifted you, resting part of your weight on the sink beside you. You clung to him, needily wrapping your legs around his waist, and he could only hum at the sight, pleased. After the painful wait, you finally felt Crosshair sliding himself into you, hissing at the initial stretch of your flesh only for you to moan when it became the most incredible sensation you’d ever experienced.
And Crosshair took it from there. Holding you firmly, he took care of every movement. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip in and out of you at whatever speed he desired, and you could tell he wasn’t planning on putting anything off. He was quick, accurate, decisive, grunting low and seductive into your ear with every few thrusts into your hips. Your nails clawed into his upper back, moaning deeply as you tightened your legs around him as much as you could, and it heightened the sensations you felt.
As he continued to fuck deep into you, Crosshair made eye contact with you for a moment, his cocky exterior suddenly becoming caring, even soft. The thought of your prior conversation entered your mind—how long had he felt that way for you? How long had you been suppressing your own desires for him?
Now that you were in his arms, feeling all the pleasure he could give you, you were certain you were where you needed to be.
A tender moan of his name escaped you just before you felt the pleasure expand through your body again. The moans induced by this second orgasm were far louder and embarrassingly more lustful than those of the first, and Crosshair thrust his hips faster into you as he fisted your hair and gave it a light tug. Your vision went white as you succumbed to the pleasure, to him, until you felt the heat of his release inside you followed by soft, low-pitched moans that sealed every one of your feelings for him.
Carefully, he set you down, and once he was sure that your feet were firm on the ground, Crosshair went limp in front of you. His arms were the only thing that remained strong as he caged you to the wall, panting to recover his breath in tandem with you. His lips were close to yours, and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to cup his face and kiss him gently. Crosshair kissed you back without a hesitation, retrieving his hands from the wall to place them over your wrists, pressing you deeper to him.
“You never had to be jealous, Crosshair,” you whispered.
“Don’t blame me,” he panted, “for getting a little unhinged at the thought of someone else trying to satisfy you.”
“Hey, if this is the result, I’ll take it any day,” you winked. “I should have known a tease and a challenge was all it took.”
Crosshair smirked at you and let his hands travel down to your waist, straightening his back and lifting your feet up with him. “Wanna show off your hickey?”
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Crosshair chuckled and pecked your lips, setting you down on the floor again and pulling up his bathing suit again. “Come.”
You put the bottom of your bathing suit on and followed him out of the refresher with your arm linked in his, ready for all the stares you were about to receive. Crosshair would definitely show them all, and you never would have fathomed the idea of parading a fresh hickey in front of a group of men who were flirting with you minutes earlier, but if that love hadn’t made you a bit crazy, you wouldn’t have been doing it right.
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Note
Hi!
Prompt: villain frustrated because they can’t explain to hero their concern for them, when they’re just supposed to be “enemies with benefits” tired, pining but stubborn. Love this dynamic.
Have a lovely day boo<3
"You're hurt."
"Hm?" The hero glanced over, before following the line of the villain's dark gaze. They pressed a hand, instinctively, over their collar to hide the scar. They cleared their throat. "It's nothing."
"So nothing you won't let me see?"
"You don't need to see." The hero flashed them a smile. "It's not very sexy of me. You should have seen me when I was still covered in blood. Do you prefer its mine or other people's?"
The villain's frown deepened. They stalked across the room in a few swift steps, seizing the hero's hand and pulling it away so they could get a better look. Their eyes traced the scar from collar, to throat and then down again into the plunge of the hero's shirt.
"Not your best once over," the hero muttered. "Stop scowling at me. It's fine."
"It's not fine. It's -" The villain snarled, under their breath, reaching for the hero's buttons.
The hero gave a nervous laugh and stepped back.
The villain's gaze cut to their face, hand frozen in the air.
"Bit too fragile for our normal, bucko," the hero said. "So if that's all you came over for-"
"-I haven't seen you in weeks."
"I'm sure you have other people you can sleep with. You have the pretty face for it." The hero paused. "At least when you're not glaring like that. Bloody terrifying. Anyway. If there was nothing else-"
"-You nearly died."
"Didn't, though."
"You could have."
"As can we all. What's your point?"
"You have to be more careful."
"Because I'm yours?" The hero waggled their eyebrows. "And you're the only one allowed to hurt me? To touch me?"
"Because-" The villain stopped. Their jaw clenched. Their face did something odd, eyes only growing more stormy. "Yes. That. Obviously."
The hero shook their head, smiling despite themselves. "You're a real piece of work."
"Who did this to you?"
"Now we both know I'm not going to answer that."
"Tell me. Or I swear-" The villain took another step closer, before pausing. Their gaze roamed over the hero's well-covered body again. Their jaw clenched further, so hard that their teeth must surely hurt.
"Eh, the more you wound me, the longer you have to wait to get some."
"You're infuriating."
"And you're a possessive little freak, but it's very endearing." The hero flashed another, kindly mocking, grin. Teasing, as ever. They had to keep it light. Better that than wanting too much, knowing they'd never get it.
The villain's face did that weird thing again and they turned away again, with another of those under-the-breath snarls. Their fingers flexed at their sides, barely leashing violence.
"Do you need anything?" the villain asked.
"Not from you, don't worry."
The villain's shoulders tensed.
It was the hero's turn to frown. Their head tilted, examining the hard lines of the villain's spine, the rigid set of them. "Hang on. You're not actually concerned, are you?" Their heart skipped.
"You hid this from me. You - you don't get to hide things from me."
That explained it.
"No, I just didn't tell you because it's none of your business." The hero spoke as gently as they could, through their bewilderment, through the stupid hope that maybe the villain did care for reasons other than possessiveness. "It's not going to affect us. I just need a couple of weeks to recover, and all."
The villain said nothing.
"We're enemies," the hero said, almost desperately. "You don't care if I get hurt. Not for - you don't -"
"You're mine." The villain's voice was cold, and their face determinedly turned away so that the hero couldn't see it. "Don't break what's mine. I'll check in a few days, seeing as you clearly can't be trusted. Don't try and stop me. In such a fragile state, we both know I'd take you in a fight. It would be very unsexy of you."
"You are such a bastard." The hero laughed though, relieved.
The villain didn't laugh, all the more strangely still. They walked out and didn't look back.
They returned every day though.
The hero didn't try and stop them.
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