#if the one time i dreamt sees this hope you like it? I just saw the doodle ya did and my hand possessed me

[sweetbans29]

Power Couple - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Life during Caitlin and your rookie season - Based on THIS request

Warnings: None that I can think of :) just some fluff for ya

Word Count: 4.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I don't know much about soccer but I tried my best! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think 🤍

The first time Caitlin knew you were something special was in high school. The two of you faced off on the soccer field during a game. This was when Caitlin still played soccer and was figuring out if she wanted to pursue soccer in college or basketball. She ended up going with the latter and was thankful for it because you were a force to be reckoned with.

You had nearly a perfect game. Your team came out on top but no thanks to a certain player on the other team. When the game was over and your team was going around saying 'good game' to the other team you pulled no.23 in.

"You almost gave me a run for my money, keep it up babe," you say as you bring her into a half hug so you can whisper it in her ear. You give her hip a little pinch before shaking hands with her coaches.

Caitlin is left speechless. She goes back into the locker room - star-struck and a little confused. She has never really been interested in anyone and has never really had the time to date but you had her wanting more. That night, she did some IG stalking and found you. She spent the whole evening looking through your page and all your tags. She went through all your teammate's photos and even searched you as a tag. She fell asleep contemplating if she was going to follow you. It seemed silly that she was nervous to press a button.

She dreamt of you that night. Had a dream that the two of you played D1 soccer in college together and were the 'it' couple of school (not like that is really a thing in college but a girl can dream). When she woke up in the morning she looked at her phone to see what time it was. She shot up when she saw the notification that you had followed her. She couldn't believe a single notification had her feeling like a little school girl but there she was.

When you woke up the next morning, you saw that Caitlin had requested to follow you back.

From there - she was the one to message you first, talking about how amazing you had played and how impressed she was. You were hardcore flattered. The two of you didn't talk much after but you both followed each other in your respective sports. You learned that Caitlin dropped soccer for basketball which you thought was a shame - she could have easily gone D1. But watching her on the court was something else. Her IQ on the court was something you had never seen before.

It was during your senior year of high school that the two of you started going to watch each other play. At least when you both had the time, which wasn't super frequent. It was merely a taste of what the two of you were about to experience in college. Both of you had signed to become Hawkeyees. Caitlin for basketball and you for soccer.

It was your freshman year of college that the two of you started hanging out. You had become pretty close friends that always acted like more. Your friendship took a turn one night when you were taking care of a very sick Caitlin.

"I don't want soup," she pouts and turns away from the spoonful of soup you are trying to feed her.

"Caitlin you need to eat," you say as you grab her shoulder to hold her down from rolling over. She tries to fight you but is extremely weak due to the flu overtaking her body. She whines when she can't turn away from you and lays there in defeat. She looks like she is on the verge of tears.

"Hey, hey," you say as you rub her arm. "Shhh it's okay love." Your hand comes up to her face and caresses it. She looks up at you with such tired eyes. "I know you don't want to but you haven't eaten in days and it's scaring me."

Her eyes stare into yours as she takes your hand holding the spoon and guides it to her mouth. She takes a little bite that looks painful to swallow but she does. You kiss her forehead and continue to feed her the broth.

Later that night you fell asleep next to her bed, you took the floor to not get sick yourself. Caitlin woke up and saw you sleeping on the floor. She turned to face you and looked down, she loved watching you sleep. You always looked so peaceful which is so different than watching you on the field. She reached down and brushed a piece of hair from your face and whispered 'I love you'. Little did she know that her touch had stirred you awake and you heard her little confession.

It was shortly after Caitlin got better that you two started dating. You went public on your three-month anniversary, which was also when you signed for the USWNT. It had been a dream of yours since you were a little girl.

You stopped playing for Iowa once you joined the women’s team but that didn’t stop you from going to support your girl for her games whenever you could. Caitlin did the same whenever you had games close by and the two of you sort of became known supporters at each other's games. It was kind of cute how people would get excited to see Caitlin coming to your games and vice versa. Someone had even started an amateur fan account for the two of you, nothing ever came from it but it would pop up on your feed every now and again. It was mostly posts of you wearing Caitlin's jerseys at her games and Caitlin wearing your jerseys to support your games.

There was one game you went to support Caitlin and had her fans come up and ask for pictures with you. It was cute how her fans were so supportive of the two of you. But with support, also comes hate.

As the years go on, your relationship with Caitlin grows. By the time the two of you are entering your senior year of college, you have pretty much been through it all. The ups and downs have been very high and very low but you wouldn't have changed any of it. It was because of those times that you know as you begin your careers, you and Caitlin will make it.

It is during your last year that you get drafted as the first pick to the Chicago Red Stars. Caitlin and your family are there for the draft and are over the moon for you to be playing closer to home. When your name is announced - you hug your family first then make your way to Caitlin. She engulfs you in a hug and kisses the top of your head. You look up and give her a little kiss before heading up to shake the announcer's hand and head off to a few interviews.

Being drafted before the school year ended meant that you would have to finish your senior year online. It wasn't your favorite but you were determined to get your degree, even though everyone was saying you no longer needed it. It was something you felt like you needed to accomplish.

This also meant that you would be moving to Chicago to start training. At no point was there ever any tension in your relationship with Catilin when it came to moving. The two of you had a conversation early on about what your life goals were which included playing pro for your respective sports. The two of you talked through what that would look like and how you would prioritize one another while pursuing each of your dreams. The way you two were on the same page only solidified your relationship even more.

As Caitlin and the Hawkeyes were heading into March Madness - you weren't able to make it to the Sweet Sixteen or the Elite Eight. That didn't stop you from watching your girl dominate on the court - breaking records and doing what she does best (shooting logo threes).

You were bummed that you couldn't be there when she broke the NCAA scoring record but one of your teammates got a video of you watching your girlfriend make history and posted it. It gained a lot of traction and was the first time they featured your relationship on any sports network.

When you found out Caitlin was heading back to the final four - you made it a priority to head to Clevland to watch. You were able to pull some strings and get courtside seats to watch your girl front row. You watched them play UConn and were stressed the entire game. This was some of the best defense you have seen a team put up against Cait. They came to fight.

Throughout the game you had people come up to you and ask for autographs and photos. It was neat to see it was a variety of both Caitlin's fans who knew you as her girlfriend and also your fans who have watched you since you started with the USNWT.

When the Hawkeyes pulled through and took the win - everyone flooded the court, making it almost impossible to find Caitlin. It was actually a handful of people in the crowd who helped you locate her. When you saw her, you ran straight up to her and wrapped your legs and arms around her. You knew what this game stood for - it was redemption from the previous year.

"THAT WAS AMAZING BABE!" You yelled right in her ear.

She laughs and spins you around, "I am so glad you were able to make it." She inhales you and is reminded of how much she misses you. "Do you have to leave?" She asks, only half-heartedly wanting the answer.

"Well knowing you were going to win this game and Coach not needing me back until Monday, I am staying to the final," you say hoping down from your girl but keeping your arms around her neck.

Caitlin brings you back into her and just holds you. As thankful as she is that her team just won, she is even more grateful that she gets to spend some time with you. Cait and the team only had a light practice the day in between games. The rest of the day was to be used as a rest day with the exception of a team dinner. You spent the day in Caitlin’s hotel room. Most of the time the two of you spent catching up on life and how each of you has been doing. She talked about her feelings about how she contemplated staying at Iowa for a fifth year versus going to the WNBA draft. The two of you had talked a little over the phone about it but there was something about having you there that really opened her up about all the thoughts she truly had. You sat there and listened to her talk - it was one of your favorite things to do. You could sit with her forever and be content.

She loved talking to you because you never pushed her in one direction or another, but would rather genuinely listen to her. And when she would pause to gather her thoughts, you would ask her questions to help her figure out what she wants to do and not what the media expects of her. You knew the last thing that she needed was someone else telling her what she should and shouldn't be doing.

When it was your turn to unpack - you talked about the shift from playing on the women's national team to a city team. It was a shift but one that was really nice. It felt like you were finally able to settle down somewhere and you were excited for her to feel the same and hopefully a little closer to yourself than she was at now. You missed being around her.

You continued to talk about how her team has been super welcoming and that you all instantly fit into the team. That was something Caitlin knew you were worried about signing with the Chicago Red Stars. She hasn't been out to one of your games yet but is hoping to before she goes into training.

That night you joined Caitlin at the team dinner. All the girls were happy to see you. It was great getting to spend some time with everyone - with Cait being on the team, you had become really close to some of her friends. Kate and Gabby were especially happy to see you.

You went to watch the championship game the next day - sitting right behind the team's bench. You watched your girl put up 18 points in the first quarter - breaking another record in her last collegiate game.

As the game progressed you saw how difficult it was for the Hawkeyes to put up points against the best defensive team in the league. But they put up a fight.

In the final quarter, you could see the hope in the team's eyes slip away as the momentum SC was gaining kept going. When there were only a few minutes left, you saw the shift in Caitlin's demeanor and knew that she was beginning to accept defeat.

At the one-minute mark, Coach Bluder pulled her starting seniors and allowed some of the other girls take the court. As Caitlin was walking off, she alongside Kate and Gabby went down the line of coaches and gave them each a hug. When she sat down on the bench, you couldn't see her face but knew she was struggling to keep it together. If there was anyone else in this stadium that knew how much she wanted this win, it was you.

It didn't come as a surprise when Caitlin sat right in front of you. You leaned down to her and placed your hand on her arm. No words needed, just a sign to show her that you were there. Her hand comes up and rests on yours, giving a little squeeze.

She spent that night in your arms. You tried to get her out of her head but weren't doing a great job of it. All Caitlin really wanted was to be held by you and that is exactly what you did.

You flew back to Chicago that Monday - feeling sad you were leaving Caitlin but know you left her in good hands with Kate and Gabby. Before leaving - Caitlin booked a flight to come out to watch you play in Chicago. You thought it would be a good distraction as well as nice to have her back in the stands.

When it was game day, you took the field for warm-ups, occasionally looking towards the stands to see where your girlfriend was watching from. It wasn't an easy task but you looked in all the typical places she would watch from when you were playing for the USWNT. When you couldn't find her in the crowd, you got worried that she wasn't able to make it. When you got back to the bench, you did a quick scan when one of the other girls came up to you and pointed to one of the boxes. Looking over - you saw Caitlin in the middle box talking with your team manager.

A smile makes its way to your face as you see them talking and laughing. Your team manager was kind of a hard-ass which would have you worried if it was anyone other than Caitlin. But knowing your girl, she could start a conversation with anyone.

Throughout the game, you would glance up to the box. You were met with the sight of either Caitlin watching intently or her talking with whoever else was there. You noticed one of the times she was talking to one of your teammate's wives. It was such a comfort to have her there.

At the end of the game, your team pulled through and took the dub against the Kansas City Current. As the team was celebrating you felt someone come up from behind you and spin you around. Knowing immediately who it was, when you were put down - you turned and jumped into Cailtin's arms.

"Proud of you babe," she says as she embraces you yet again.

"I am glad you were able to come," you say and grab her hand to introduce her to a few of your teammates.

The next day you see an article out about Caitlin coming to your game. It wasn't the first but it was the first that you saw circulate social media to this extent. It caught like wildfire and the next thing to know your following on IG went from 20k to 50k.

You didn't think much of it considering you don't follow the media really at all but thought it was cute and shot it over to Caitlin. She thought it was funny and criticized the photo they chose of the two of you.

The next thing you know, you are in New York getting ready for the WNBA draft. You are sharing a room with Caitlin and just sit in awe as your girl is getting dressed. She is the first to sport Prada for the WNBA and she is looking amazing.

Once she is dressed, the two of you head down. There are a few photos snapped of Caitlin on the way down, you follow closely behind her, trying to not get in the frame. That proves hard to do as she refuses to let go of your hand. At one point she looks back and gives your hand a little kiss before heading into the elevator to head down to the orange carpet.

The night went by in a blur. Caitlin is the first pick and is headed to the Indiana Fever. It was what both of you were prepared for and have honestly started planning for as well. You two started talking about how it would be so nice to only be an hour's plane ride away from each other (a 3-hour drive if needed).

Her crew celebrates by going out for some drinks and food. It was a fun night out with the girls not only celebrating Caitlin but also Kate who was drafted into the Aces. The two of you end the night back in the hotel.

The next morning, you started to get notifications and messages about the media calling you and Caitlin the new 'Power Couple' of the sports world. Before you could open anything on your phone, Caitlin was showing you hers. You looked at the post that Ovvertimewbb posted. It was the photo of Caitlin kissing your hand right before heading into the elevator with a caption on how you two are the couple to watch in and out of the game.

"So they are calling us the couple to watch," you say as you hand the phone back to Cait.

"Looks like it," she says with a laugh. "I have no idea what that means."

"Honestly, neither do I but we will find out," you say as you lean over to give her a kiss.

Throughout both of your rookie seasons, the media watches you both closely. You because you have been on fire, consistently playing record-breaking games and carrying your team to victory, and Caitlin because she is changing the game.

Now that the two of you are closer, going to support each other has become much easier. Once Caitlin started in Indiana, she was at almost every one of your games - almost always supporting you from your manager's booth. You always joke with her that your manager loves her more than they do you. Every now and again she would be standing fieldside, out of the way of course. The media tore up any time she was standing on the field or seen talking with your manager. It would always be something about how Caitlin is such a great girlfriend coming out to support you. Or it would be how your GM has found a new person to watch their team with, having a picture attached with your GM and Caitlin laughing about something.

The posts and articles went both ways. You went to support Caitlin whenever you could which then put you in the spotlight. It was unexpected to both of you how much the media ate up your support for each other.

It was when you were watching an interview that Caitlin was in that it began to click.

"Caitlin - you are projected to be rookie of the year, how do you feel about that?" The interviewer asks.

"I think it's pretty awesome," she responds with a smile. "Just like the work I have put in during my college career to get here, I have put in the work this season to be up for rookie of the year."

"Well, it is quite impressive, if I must say," the interviewer compliments your girlfriend. "But what is also impressive is that your girlfriend is also up for rookie of the year."

Caitlin just smiles and nods. She could say a lot (she will rarely brag about herself but when it came to you, she could talk up a storm) but just sits and nods. To everyone watching - it was a proud girlfriend moment.

"Seeing you go and support each other at games, getting the posts of your post-game meals with one another, and all the talk about how each of your teammates has become great friends with you and her, you have become the ultimate power couple in the sports world." Caitlin doesn't blush easily but she’s blushing now. "How has becoming this power couple affected your relationship?"

"Well it is kind of funny - neither Y/n nor I have really seen much of what has been going on in the media with any of it," Caitlin says.

It was true - the two of you tried your best to stay out of looking into the media like that. You knew it wouldn't affect your relationship in the slightest but never really cared for what other people said about the two of you. Outside of supporting each other during games the two of you led a pretty private relationship.

"Well let me show you a slim snippet of what the fans are saying," the interviewer says as they start flashing photos of you on the screen. "There are endless fan edits of the two of you while you are watching each other games. What really got me was finding a fan account that has been following the two of you since your college years."

Pictures of the two of you from their account started flying across the screen. Photos going back in time - it was a neat way to reminisce on the past and how far you have come.

At the end of the slideshow is a picture from when you played in your final home game for your high school - senior night. It was a picture of you and two other girls heading to the captain's meeting in the middle of the field. In the photo, it is you and your co-captains looking down but if you looked over to the crowd - there is Caitlin, front row with some of her friends there to watch you play.

Caitlin remembers the moment as if it was yesterday. She debated going to that game for weeks before it happened. She didn't tell you she was coming to your senior night but brought you flowers and she gave them to you afterward. That was the night that you had Caitlin falling even harder than before - getting so excited when you saw her. Causing her heart to leap out of its chest when you dropped all of your stuff to pick her up and spin he around. Her stomach filled with butterflies and her cheeks turned a deep pink - the first time you made her blush.

"Yep, that's me," she says with a laugh, turning even more red than before. "You could say we were fans of each other long before we started dating.'

"Well, that is the cutest thing!" The interviewer says with such excitement. "We are all rooting for the two of you and can't wait to watch you both as you progress in your careers."

Later that night, you call Cait. She picks up the phone immediately.

"I know, I know," she says, already knowing what you are going to say.

"You are too cute when you blush," you say with a little laugh.

"Ugh stop babe," she says laughing as well. "Did you hear when they called us the ultimate power couple?"

"I did," you say full-on laughing now. "It is crazy to see how many people are invested in our relationship."

You hear her hum in agreement, but she doesn't say anything.

"Hey babe, is everything okay?" You ask, worried that this is all starting to get to her. You know Caitlin doesn't follow the media like that but you wouldn't blame her if she fell down the rabbit hole after that interview. I mean, you did.

It wasn't intentional but after you watch the interview, curiosity got the best of you and you started looking at some accounts. Most of it was sweet - pictures and comments of how the world is cheering you on but with being in the spotlight more, there were also more people who used the platform to tear you down. It really didn't affect either of you - at least when people talked about yourselves. But you knew when people start talking bad about you on her posts, she gets caught up in her head about how hateful the world can be.

It takes her a minute but after what feels like a lifetime, she responds.

"You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing," she starts, causing your heart to swell. She begins to stumble on her words. "I - just thank you." She says. "Thank you for being so amazing not only to me but to the world. I can't wait until you begin your off-season and move here with me so we can finally be together. Then when you go back, and I am off, I will come and live with you and everything will be right in the world and we will get a dog and start planning our wedding and both be living out our dreams."

She pauses and you take a sharp inhale. The two of you haven't really talked about marriage - if you were being honest, you had no idea that was even on Caitlin's radar. It was on yours but you never wanted to rush her.

"What was that last part?" You ask slowly.

"Us living out our dreams?" She asks, knowing it is not what you are talking about.

"No right before that..." you say as it feels like time has stopped. The only other time you have felt this with her is the first game you played against her. She had been one of the only other players who could keep up to you and you let her know that after. Whispering the compliment in her ear and watching her react to your touch had stopped time for you.

"Start planning our wedding...?" Caitlin says extremely slowly. You are hooked on every single word she says as she repeats that.

"Caitlin Clark, are you asking me to marry you?" You say jokingly but also dripping with genuine interest.

"You are just going to have to wait to find out," she says and you can hear the smirk that has grown on her face.

Little did you know that Caitlin already had the ring. She knew she was going to marry you after you picked her up and spun her around on your senior night. It only solidified when the two of you started dating in college and were there to support one another during your sporting events but also just with life in general. Having you by her side wasn't an option. You pushed her to be better than she could have ever imagined. You brought her out of her head when no one else could. You let her be herself unapologetically and she couldn't imagine a more perfect person.

"Well just know, if you get down on one knee at either of our award ceremonies, I will say no." You say, trying to play it cool when your heart is beating faster than it does on the field.

Caitlin laughs and you join in, longing for the days when you can have these conversations face to face.

AN: I hope this does the request justice. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark masterlist #caitlin clark concepts #iowa hawkeyes #wnba

[valiantroeagleangel]

Nosferatu I.

Vampire Ruffilo x female reader

Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.

I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.

Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.

Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).

Mama’s tag list:  @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy  @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner  @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.

Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.

What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.

He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.

Love.

No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.

Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.

And when he thought about that, he thought about her.

The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.

Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.

As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.

It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.

"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."

Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.

In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.

She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.

However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.

Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.

In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.

In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.

Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?

But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.

In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.

With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.

And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.

With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.

Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.

Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.

She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.

With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.

And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.

The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.

In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.

But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.

His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.

She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.

As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.

#bad omens #nicholas ruffilo #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vampire! ruffilo #smut #vampire! nicholas ruffilo

[scenicphoenix]

I drew the ring from @one-time-i-dreamt 's recent dream

Although I added on to it because I couldn't help myself, I needed to add the mermaid, I tried making sense of the silhouette for you on how it works as a ring in the corner

just a basic two hour? sketch. I needed the ring out of my brain. and it's not even from my brain originally!

I tried to make it looked like tarnished gold, I'm not good at shading metal... but practice makes ya better doesn't it?

#my drawing #my art #myartwork #myart #digital art #digital painting #original art #fanart kinda? #drawing inspo #drawing inspiration #was inspired to draw this #throws this into void #mermaid #mermaids #concept art #concept sketch #conceptdesign #if the one time i dreamt sees this hope you like it? I just saw the doodle ya did and my hand possessed me

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #radio demon #reader insert #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #reader #x you smut #x you #you insert #x reader #smut fanfiction #fanfic

[armpirate]

Temptation || Jungkook

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Brother's friend

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

Summary: When Jungkook left, you were convinced your crush would go away with him. But seeing him after five years not only you discarded the possibility of ever moving on from him, you were determined on having him

MASTERLIST

The tension when you walked in was so big that Jungkook was barely able to pretend he didn't have his eye on you. When he left, you were a small girl with braces and one particular style to dress. It wasn't like he was much older than you, but the evidence in the phases you were in was evident while he hung out with your brother, and you just watched them from afar. You turned into one hell of a woman, with that little skirt and that half opened shirt tucked in it.

What did he miss, exactly?

You were excited when your brother announced Jungkook was coming back home after almost five years. He had gone abroad to finish his college degree, forcing you to leave him and your growing crush for him on the side for a while -hopeful that one day you'd get over it after meeting the right guy. With time, you managed to forget about him, except for the times Cameron mentioned him, with you just wondering how Jungkook was probably doing with life.

And you could see he was doing quite well. He turned from that slim cute boy you had a crush on, to a sexy tattooed man that would make your knees go weak if he made the simple attempt to speak to you.

Cameron had warned him when he was aware of the way he stared at you days back, when you first saw each other. Reminding him you were forbidden, and if he ever crossed the line with you he'd be dead. Jungkook thought it'd be easy to resist you, it had to be as simple as trying to keep some distance, having the same attitude he had towards you before he ever thought of leaving back to Korea for a few years.

But now you were in his place, walking in shyly with drenched clothes and wet hair, as you hugged yourself and got used to the warm environment his new house was. He mentioned where he lived in that dinner he had with Cameron and your parents, although he never thought it'd be as dangerous to have you showing up at his door with lost puppy eyes and a shaky voice.

"Sorry to be showing up so late" you whispered, apologizing again. "This was the nearest place to where my car stopped working, and I lost my phone…".

Jungkook simply shrugged, shaking his head before he made his way past you "It's alright. I wasn't doing anything, anyway".

He had to move in front of you to be able to feel some shame if he ever tried to look down at your exposed thighs, and imagined what you were hiding underneath that skirt. You were biting your lower lip, subtly trapping it under your teeth, when his eyes moved back up.

"Do you have a towel or something I could use to dry myself? I'm so wet right now" your voice had a tone he wasn't able to decipher, but that was certainly doing things to him, as you started taking off that black shirt, being covered only by that white tank top that allowed him to see much more than he could've dreamt off, gulping thick at the sight of the different lines that formed your bra.

Jungkook saw that as the best chance to escape, snapping his fingers at your idea "I'll bring you some clothes".

You took one look around, not moving from the spot in front of the coffee table because you didn't want to make a bigger mess all over the floor by the water that kept dripping from your pleated skirt.

While he looked for comfy clothes for you, he tried to think what would be the best way to deal with the little problem that was waiting for him in his living room. Because you were a problem. A big one, actually.

Jungkook sighed, stepping out of his room just to find you in the exact same place he left you. And when you gave him that innocent look as soon as you were aware of his presence, he knew he was in big trouble. He didn't know if it was all in his head, or if you were too good at pretending. but his mind kept glitching whenever he thought of a nice way to kick you out of there for his own sake.

As he handed you his clothes, so you could go to the bathroom to get changed, he didn't expect your skirt to be sliding down your thighs, followed by that white top. He scanned your body, admiring those tempting curves, and almost choking on his spit when he saw that long tattoo crossing your spine when you turned to pick all the wet clothes and hand it to him.

"Never seen a woman in your life?" you teased, putting on those baggy gray sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt. "It's no different from a bikini".

He wanted to clap back, telling you that indeed it was quite different from a bikini, especially when it came to his best friend's little sister, but he bit his tongue, conscious that he'd end up entering a game he wasn't sure he'd win".

"I'll put these in the dryer" Jungkook simply announced, escaping again and hiding behind four different walls so he wouldn't be poisoned by the same air you were breathing.

"How was it in Korea?" you asked, freely walking around his living room.

"It was good" Jungkook answered. "It was nice to go back to my roots and see some of my family and friends".

You remembered the first time Cameron took him home in sixth grade, cheering how he made a new friend and announcing to everyone in the house how he was new in the city because he came from a different country. Since then, they were inseparable, making his visits more frequent with each passing day, making him someone that was almost part of your family , while Cameron was almost part of his, after just a few months into the friendship.

"You missed me?" you asked, tilting your head when he was back in front of you.

"I missed everyone, of course" Jungkook nodded.

You simply smiled at that answer, aware of how he was trying to treat you as everyone else, shifting your gaze from him as you made your way to his couch. Jungkook had picked the clothes that would look bigger on you, in a desperate attempt to make you less tempting than you were, but it was useless when your aura spoke louder than your looks or words.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing" you giggled.

"You did miss me?" he wanted to know, stepping towards you.

"Of course".

"Of course?" he repeated, sitting next to you on the couch.

"Of course" you nodded, "I was so used to seeing you, and suddenly you were gone" Jungkook's eyes were looking at you attentively, hypnotized by the way your lips moved as you spoke. "You also promised me a kiss, and you were gone before you could carry out that promise".

He scoffed at the mention of that. He thought you'd have forgotten about that after so long, he actually did until you mentioned it. Jungkook always thought you were just playing when you first told him that, with that nervous pout on your lips, before he played along and told you he'd be your first kiss if you didn't find anyone special when you turned twenty.

"I bet you've already kissed some guys that could make up for that".

And for a second, Jungkook thought life was so cruel, because how was it that he wasn't the first one to kiss those soft and tender lips, that would be able to take him to heaven?

"They still weren't you though" your lips pursed with that answer, as you leaned closer to him.

"Y/n…" he warned you, barely moving back. "Your brother will kill me if he ever knows".

"That's the thing: he won't know" you replied, leaning over again. "It'll be just one kiss" your eyes moved down to his lips just when he moved his tongue over them to wet them ", one tiny little kiss" you assured him, speaking lower.

You dreamt of this many times when you were younger, yet it still went above your expectations when you sucked on his plumped lower lip softly. He tasted spicy, with a mix of beer, but so addictive you were sure you could go on for hours stuck to him. Jungkook moved his lips on yours shyly at first, barely sucking on your upper lip as you focused on the bottom. After faking to move away, you felt pride flooding your chest when his fingers hooked on the side of your neck, keeping you in place to kiss you deeper.

He was trapped in your charms, Jungkook just wanted more of you when that little friction gave goosebumps all over his body. Your tongue felt warm when you licked on his lip rings, slowly sliding it through his lips to meet his. His hands automatically moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body, while you just made a mess on his hair, gripping and playing with his locks while his head just went in circles in flow with the intensity of your kiss.

"You kiss so good" he praised you, in between kisses, "So fucking good you're making me lose my mind".

Jungkook pulled from your lower lip with his teeth, making you giggle to hide the fact that every bit of skin in your body was burning for him. Half of his body was caging you between him and the couch, as he had you resting your back against the backrest to dig deeper in your mouth.

Suddenly he moved back, looking at you as if he were finally conscious of what he was about to do, with a shaky breath that only gave away the state you put him in with barely any effort.

"This can't happen again" he shook his head.

"Why? Because of my brother?" you scoffed, joking about it until you were of the concerned look he was dedicating you.

"You're also like a little sister to me. This isn't okay, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea".

His words hurt more than they should have, feeling like all the steps you had advanced were only a vision. You simply nodded, trying hard to keep that knot in your throat as it was, just to avoid showing off how much it hurted you being hit by reality.

"I'll prepare a room so you can sleep there tonight. I'll take a look at your car tomorrow morning, and drive you home" he informed you.

Neither of you knew those would be the last words that would be exchanged between you that night, making the environment somehow heavier than when all that sexual tension was floating between you two.

You barely spoke the next morning either, only exchanging some random words whenever he mentioned he'd drop you off at your place. You didn't expect him to mention anything about what happened last night, but trying to act like it actually didn't happen disappointed you. It genuinely made you believe it all was a mistake for him, and his responses to your kiss were automatic until he got out of that blinding cloud and met with reality.

As you made your way to your car, he heard you insisting on how you'd be fine by yourself, and how you'd get somebody else to help you, but he wouldn't leave you dealing with all of that by yourself when he could be of help. Jungkook slid the key inside the contact, thinking it'd be a waste of time until he felt the engine getting started and the whole car roaring in response. He also managed to see your phone strategically hidden behind the gear level, so it wouldn't be seen from outside.

Realization hit him, remembering how you got to his place through the rain, for no other reason than just seeing him. Because you knew exactly what you were doing and what you wanted from him.

"So you lost your phone…" he mumbled, raising his eyebrow before he looked at you.

"I couldn't find it last night… My bad".

"And the car also happened to magically start working the morning after?" Jungkook didn't know where he wanted to get to with all of those accusations,

"Miracles happen" you simply shrugged.

"Y/n, this is not a game".

"No, it's not" you crossed your arms over your chest. "You made it clear yesterday".

When you looked at him again, Jungkook was able to read through some of the disappointment you allowed to communicate through your eyes.

"You already saw everything's okay, so you can go" you tried to tell him, but you should've known Jungkook was the biggest stubborn person you had ever known, even bigger than your brother.

"I'll drive you home" he mentioned, determined to drive your car.

"No, get out of my car" you replied almost instantly, with no strength to argue with him.

"Y/n…"

"Jungkook, get out of my car" you repeated slowly, emphasizing on each word. "Surprising or not, the little girl can drive".

"Fine" he sighed, stepping out and closing the door while you moved from one place to the other. "Can you let me know when you get home?".

"Ask Cameron if you want to know".

You didn't exchange any other words with him, closing the door as you forced him to move aside before you drove away from there.

Going to your place was even harder after that night. Every time he saw you, he automatically remembered the way your lips tasted, feeling the peach flavor of your gloss on his tongue every single time. But what made it harder was the indifference that came from you whenever you saw him, cordial enough not to be rude in front of your brother, but distant enough to let Jungkook know that that mistake wouldn't happen again.

And you carried on with that promise.

One of the nights he stayed at your place, because the game night with Cameron finished way too late, he was unlucky enough to see you. He had left your brother's room to get a glass of water, when the subtle click of the main door caught his attention and made him step outside of the kitchen.

You weren't surprised when he came out of the room. The fact that the lights were turned on, being the only thing lighting part of the living room, gave away that there clearly was someone inside, you just didn't expect that it would be Jungkook.

That red dress you were wearing, revealing a bit of your cleavage, and a good amount of your back, seemed like was worn on purpose to torture him, as if you knew he'd end up spending the night there and casually find you as you sneaked to your room.

"A bit late, don't you think?" he teased you, giving a sip to his glass.

You scoffed, slowly making your way to him "As if that were any of your business".

You tried to make your way past him, but his hand enclosed around your wrist before you were able to. Jungkook dragged you inside the kitchen, carefully making you rest your back against the cold tires on the wall. After leaving the glass over the counter, and still keeping you in place with a hand on your waist, you felt his fingers making your skin tickle as he advanced through your collarbone, moving your hair back just to be able to see that purple mark on your neck.

"Someone had fun" he whispered.

"Well, clearly my hair isn't a mess because of the wind" you replied back, trying to move away from him.

His heart sank to his stomach at the image of you being pleased by someone else, being more twisted in his head as he imagined you looking straight at him as some guy without a face pounded into you the way he had been thinking of doing ever since you showed up at his place.

"Can you let me go now? I don't want my parents to see me like this" you asked.

But Jungkook stayed there, still, moving his thumb from the mark on your neck up to your chin, stopping at the line of your lower lip. His eyes were filled with all the filthy thoughts going through his head at that moment, and all the several ways he wanted to let you know it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him out of your head, you would not succeed with that. You trapped him, and he wouldn't let you get away with it so easily.

"What? Are you going to fuck me to have me back at running after you?" you challenged.

"You think that fucking someone else will make you stop to?" Jungkook asked back, tilting his head.

"So ignoring you for a few days, and seeing other guys is what took you to forget your morals" you hummed, nodding as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Talk to me tomorrow morning when you don't feel heated up at the thought of me fucking someone else" you managed to move between his body and the wall.

Jungkook was almost going to run behind you, until Cameron's steps and sleepy voice were heard making their way to the kitchen "We're not done" he guaranteed.

"Up to you, you know that" you simply shrugged. "Good night, unibrow" you smiled, walking past your brother as you started your way to your bedroom.

"What were you talking about?" Cameron asked, confused.

Jungkook shook his head, giving one last gulp to his glass of water "Nothing. She just arrived now, and didn't want your parents to know".

"This girl" Cameron rolled his eyes "One day he'll give them both a heart attack".

Jungkook stopped the car in front of your gym, waiting for you while his hand rested over the wheel. Your parents and his parents had planned a dinner at one of the restaurants you frequented the most out of the city, for no particular reason -at least that you knew off. It was something quite usual before Jungkook left -and it actually kept happening after he was in Korea. You all reunited whenever there was a big event, like when Cameron graduated college, or when you managed to get the higher grade in one of your projects during the second year of your degree. The first plan was that Cameron would pick you up at the gym, and you two would go together to the restaurant. But after being called last minute into his office, he asked Jungkook to give you that ride instead.

It wasn't like neither of you would complain about that.

Or maybe Jungkook would. Gulping thick when he was aware of the way the skirt of your dress danced over your thighs with every step you took. And it wasn't any better when you hopped inside the car, with your dress raising a little bit further than the middle of your thighs as you sat down next to him.

"That smartass" you mumbled, buckling your seatbelt. "He probably is stuck in one of those dumb videogames, and won't leave the house until he makes it".

He snorted at your comment, knowing Cameron well enough to think that you were probably right "Isn't it better for you though? I picked you up instead".

Your eyes squinted, turning to him when you heard that comment from him. Not like you were complaining, but after he tried to dodge you the past few weeks, it just felt off.

"How was the gym?" he asked out of nowhere.

"Awful, it was leg day. I thought I'd die there" you commented, throwing your head back.

Jungkook smirked, thinking that no one would've been able to tell she was feeling sore by the way she strutted to his car.

"I know that feeling" he finally nodded.

He was a lover of pushing his body to the limit on every training he did, so he found it easy to sympathize with your pain, scoffing at your expression.

"Maybe a little massage later would make you feel better" he mentioned, glancing quickly at you.

You scoffed, looking through the window "Are you offering to give me a massage?" Jungkook didn't answer, he just giggled at your question, causing his eyes to squint in consequence. "What's up with you?" you questioned, looking at him.

"I was just messing around" he said.

Your tongue clicked at that answer. Disappointed when he reduced it all to a playful answer, when he knew it was way deeper than that.

Jungkook had tried to ignore it, but the grip you had on him ever since you kissed that first time on his couch was something he wasn't ready for. He was already attracted to you when he first saw you after coming back, but he didn't expect you to move so sneakily to him until you made sure he was on that same stage you were in. Jungkook went from barely being aware of your presence to thinking about you all the time, even if he was doing something that had nothing to do with you.

"So, about the conversation we had in the kitchen a few weeks ago…" you started.

"I shouldn't have done that" he shook his head. "I don't know why I did that, but you were right. It's none of my business".

You were tired of the same answer over and over again, repeating it like a broken record that had no other explanation to his actions than that same old excuse.

"So you weren't jealous?" you raised your feet to the dashboard in front of you. "And you don't want me?".

"We already had this conversation" Jungkook rolled his eyes, tightening his grip over the wheel when the skirt of your dress lowered even more. "I can't see you as much more than Cameron's sister".

"Hmm" you hummed, nodding slowly.

For one second, Jungkook thought that you'd finally move on from it, and help him get over you in the process. The more you insisted, the more tempted he felt to betray his friend and give in to your enchant.

"You'll be made out of steel whatever happens? You won't give in?" you asked, intense eyes looking at him while he just made everything in his hand to avoid looking at you.

Jungkook knew those words meant no good, but he didn't know they'd be followed by an action right after. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw you sneaking your hands under your skirt, and almost choked on his own spit when you slid your panties down your legs.

"We'll get in trouble" he warned you, but he was also warning himself.

But the only thing you noticed in that sentence was the fact that he didn't throw a negative response, but a warning of the consequences to your actions, and that made your core palpitate with hope.

For one second, the spontaneous fantasy of you touching yourself next to him was closer to turn into a reality. But you took him by surprise when you took his right hand instead, moving the tip of your fingers over his tattooed knuckles, giving him shiverings at the simple and soft touch.

Jungkook moved nervously on his seat when his fingerprints met with warmth of your pussy, feeling slick when you moved his fingers down your slit. "See how wet you make me?" The veins on his left arm were more marked as he tightened his grip on the wheel, feeling your tight walls hugging two of his fingers so perfectly he thought he'd faint at the idea of how his cock would feel in the place. He still allowed you to go on, controlling the moves of his fingers to finger fuck yourself so slowly he felt frustrated.

A surprised moan escaped your lips when his fingers suddenly curved, still not moving his hand, but helping you rub against that spongy area that had you spreading your legs a bit more.

"Shit, Y/n, you're so tight" he groaned. "How are you even going to take my cock?".

"I can deal with everything I propose".

Jungkook just wanted to wash that confidence away, finally moving his fingers up and down, stroking your insides just like you were asking for, as he rubbed his palm against your clit with every move. In a matter of seconds, he had you whimpering, gripping on the sleeve of his shirt and arching your back as if it were going to dismantle.

His bulge was fighting against the zip, begging to find its way out with every clench of your pussy around his fingers. And you were aware, palming him over the black jeans and unbuckling his belt and moving down the zip. You fought with your own belt, ending up unbuckling it just to lend over his lap. Jungkook, forced to take his fingers out of you at the change of position, rubbed the flesh of your ass, alternating his eyes from the road to the way your hands worked on his boxers to set him free.

"Suck my cock, princess" he hissed, involuntarily moving his hips up.

His fingers dented on your skin when you took him in almost entirely with no previous warning, enclosing your lips around his length before you pulled him out. He tasted exactly like you imagined, a bit salty, yet with the freshness of his soap. You felt so warm, sucking onto him like you were made for it, almost having him cursing at himself for ever rejecting you in the first place. His hips moved up against your mouth whenever he felt you moved back, not wanting to let go of you ever again, even if your hand was still holding his base and your lips were closed tight around his tip.

Not only were you good at driving him insane, you were also one hell of a tease. Every few seconds, you'd just poke the tip against your cheek, taking it out to give it a few kitten licks before you were back bombing your head up and down.

"Do you like what you caused?" he asked, squeezing your ass cheek.

You felt the engine roaring after his moan, sensing the car going a little bit faster, while he tried to focus on the road, managing to see through his half closed eyelids. It was such a hot vision for you, the way you were taking that man near the edge after so many years waiting for him. It was better than your wettest fantasies.

He smirked down at you, moving your head aside, when some sound interrupted the music that was playing on his radio. Noticing the picture of his friend popping up on the screen, he motioned you to keep it as quiet as possible before he answered the call.

"Where are you?" you heard the voice of your brother through the speakers.

"We're on our way there, but we're stuck in traffic" looking down at you, he gave you a sided smile. "We might be a little late".

Answering to that smile that hinted at everything but good things, you lowered your head back again, taking his cock inch by inch slowly, stopping right before it reached your throat so you wouldn't gag.

"Is Y/n with you?" you exchanged looks, although you weren't able to hold it for long because your eyes went blank as soon as his fingers slid inside you again.

"She fell asleep. She was too tired after the training. But yeah, I'm taking good care of her. Don't worry".

His fingers kept digging in your wet hole, making it almost impossible for you to hold back the moans that you were dying to let out and that ended up being drowned by his cock as soon as he hung up the call.

"Who would've thought? You sounded like a good boy" you teased him.

"I am, you just corrupt me" he replied back.

You didn't think it would last until you reached the parking lot of the restaurant, but the motion of the car parking made you raise your head from his lap. You cleaned the drool that dripped from your lips, feeling frustrated when you thought that meant you'd end up hanging over the edge -although that wasn't on Jungkook's plans.

Before you were able to say a word, he cupped your cheeks, pulling you for a wild kiss that had you almost losing balance -even if you were sitting. You were surprised when your seat suddenly moved back, followed by the backrest being slightly bent over.

Jungkook parked the car far enough from the entrance so you wouldn't be spotted, in case any of your parents or Cameron decided to step outside to wait for you. After everything that happened that evening, he wouldn't be able to behave properly on the dinner if he didn't fuck you first.

His knees were placed almost at the edge of your seat, as he folded your body like you were made of paper, moving your legs up until your ankles were hanging on his shoulders. Your hips moved up at the slight rub of his tip against your swollen clit, eager to feel more of him.

"I'll fuck you, don't look at me like that" he giggled, feeling a bit endeared by the way your eyes shined with needyness.

Your expression changed fast. Your playful smile slowly disappeared, as your frown furrowed when he moved his hips forward, stretching you out inch by inch until he was completely inside. Both of you sighed in relief when you were finally connected, with your gazes meeting up -Jungkook's to ask for your permission to move, and yours to give him the green light.

Jungkook wasn't rough or careless, and he also wasn't as shy and slow as you ever thought he'd be. He was impactful. He moved in a way that made your toes curl in your sneakers everytime your pelvis met, finding the right angle after just a few thrusts. He wasn't harsh or timid, he was well mastered. He knew how to fuck you right to have you whimpering low, fighting to control your tone, but also desperate to reach your orgasm.

"Did that other guy fuck you this good?" he groaned. "Princess, no one in your life will ever fuck you like this. You're mine now". His words send an electric shock straight to your core, clenching tight around him when those words left his mouth.

He leaned a bit more, keeping the pace of his movements, just to be closer to your face, making it even more difficult to handle when his eyes trapped yours and you weren't able to escape them. You felt so vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden, it was the last thing you needed to release yourself.

Jungkook knew he wouldn't be able to move on from you after the way you gripped so tight around him, milking him through his orgasm. His dick twitched and throbbed deep inside you, spilling his seed as you took every single drop of his.

You both just giggled, looking at each other, unable to hold back how bad you wanted to kiss after everything you had done in that car in less than thirty minutes.

After cleaning yourselves up and the car, you both made sure you didn't look like you had just fucked in the car on your way there, stopping midway to fix his bangs or some of the wrinkles that formed on your skirt after being folded that way.

"Don't think I'm done with you though" he whispered, squeezing the side of your waist before you entered the restaurant to meet everyone.

Taglist: @ttanniett

#armpirate #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #reader insert #brother's friend!au #one shot #jungkooksmut #jksmut #jk smut

[alessiasfreckles]

is it cool that i said all that? (alessia russo x reader)

request: reader makes her debut for her national team against england and alessia is just in awe but didn’t end up talking to her. that is until a few months later, reader transfers to arsenal and alessia’s being a nervous wreck when reader’s around, not knowing that reader has had a huge crush on her since the euro’s??

warnings: none

a/n: really pleased with how this turned out, i hope you like it! longish at 4.3k words. also: consent is sexy, people

------

When you stepped out onto the pitch, it was like everything stopped. All the noise, the roaring from the sold-out stadium, all of the nerves, everything melted away. You could hear your breathing, your own heartbeat, the sound of the grass beneath your boots as you ran onto the field. Then the whistle blew and you snapped out of it. As you were making your debut, you honestly hadn’t even thought you’d be playing. 

And yet, here you were. You’d been subbed on in the 78th minute, and so far, your team was 1-0 down. You knew what your role was, as a striker. You were there to score a goal and try to equalise the game, if not help win it. Your opponents were making it hard, though. Playing against the Lionesses was something you’d dreamt about, having looked up to a lot of the players since you were a teenager, but you couldn’t let that shake you. Neither could you let the fact that you were playing against Alessia Russo shake you. You’d known who she was for a while, but ever since that back-heel goal at the Euros, you couldn’t get her out of your head. 

You heard your name being shouted by one of your teammates and snapped out of it to see the ball heading towards you. The next few minutes were a blur, as you ran up the field, passing and running with the ball at your feet, and it was only when the ball hit the back of the net that you realised what you’d done. You had scored. You had managed to score the equalising goal against the Lionesses, making it one all. You couldn’t let it get to you though, not yet, not when there were still 6 minutes left on the clock, plus extra time. 

The shrill sound of the whistle came as a shock. You hadn’t even noticed the clock steadily ticking onwards, barely even registering the announcement of 3 minutes of extra time. Each side was desperate to get possession of the ball, to score that winning goal, but ultimately, the game ended in a draw. Still, it was thanks to you that it was a draw, rather than a loss for your team, and you couldn’t be more proud. 

Your teammates weren’t the only ones to be impressed by the equalising goal. Alessia had heard your name be mentioned, which wasn’t unusual, as you were making your international debut. She’d looked you up, telling herself it was research - after all, it’s important to know who you’re playing against. She liked what she saw. A lot. After the third fan edited compilation video, she put her phone down and tried to forget about you. When she saw your name on the line-up as a sub, she didn’t know whether to feel excited or nervous about the prospect of playing against you. And when it came to the game itself, and your number was called out to be subbed on, well, she would never admit it, but it felt like her heart skipped a beat. She ignored the feelings and thoughts as best she could. 

Until the 83rd minute, that is. Only 6 minutes after you’d been subbed on, in your international debut, you scored the equalising goal. And what a beautiful goal it was. It was the kind of goal that Alessia had dreamt about scoring. You were so nimble, so quick with the ball, manoeuvring it through the defensive line so easily, and shooting it straight past Earps’ outstretched arms into the back of the net. 

She watched your face as you realised what you’d done. A look of shock that transformed into a smile that lit up the whole pitch. Despite the fact that you’d scored against her team, Alessia couldn’t help but be pleased for you. 

The chance for the two of you to talk came and went before either of you realised it. You, so caught up in celebrating despite the draw, your teammates thrilled with you for scoring the equalising goal. Alessia, distracted by everything going on, team talk with Sarina, her teammates, what this meant for the next stage of the competition. 

And so, you both were forced to move on, still without having talked to each other. You in awe of her, her in awe of you, and neither knowing about it. All either of you could hope for was the chance to play against each other again. 

At least, until the transfer window began to approach. You were scrolling on twitter when you saw a post claiming that Arsenal was interested in an international player - you. At first you rolled your eyes. After all, you hadn’t been told anything. Then again, your contract was coming to a close, and you weren’t sure what the plan was for you next season. Was there a chance that this could be real? Surely not, right? There was no way Arsenal were actually interested in you? 

They were. And in true Arsenal fashion, news of your transfer was leaked almost as soon as it was official, with one of the players liking a fake post about it (which had you rolling your eyes - come on guys, three times?). 

Nevertheless, it was true, and fans were excited for your arrival, as were your new teammates. Alessia couldn’t believe what she was hearing when Jonas announced it, her brain going a million miles a minute. What would she say to you? How would she act around you? Would you even remember her? The two of you hadn’t even talked, after all. There was really no reason for her to be so nervous, and yet, here she was, with butterflies in her stomach at just the thought of your presence.

When your first day in London Colney arrived, your teammates were already gathered for training. You were only meant to meet everyone and be shown the ropes, before starting training the next day. 

“Oh my God, what do I even say to her?” Alessia groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“Just be normal?” Lia suggested.

“Yeah, like that’s so easy,” the blonde scoffed. “Hi, I’m Alessia, I’ve been thinking about you for months ever since you scored against us in that game? I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, that’s not exactly a normal thing to say, is it?” Lia said, rolling her eyes. “Normal would be ‘Hi, I’m Alessia, nice to properly meet you.’”

“I guess,” Alessia grumbled, folding her arms. 

“Look, there she is,” Lia pointed out, nudging Alessia and nodding towards you. You were walking out onto the training field with Jonas, heading towards the group. Alessia felt her breath hitch when she laid eyes on you. 

As you approached the group, you immediately started looking for the blonde, which was easier said than done, considering the number of blondes on the team. When you found her familiar face, you could feel some of the tension you were holding in your shoulders ebb away. 

“Okay, guys, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our team, y/n,” Jonas said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Some of you know her already, some of you have played against her, she’s even scored against some of you. She’ll be joining us for training starting tomorrow. Y/n, do you want to say a few words?”

“Hi everyone, I’m y/n,” you started, then realised Jonas had just said that. “Oh, I guess you already knew that. Um, I’m really happy to be here, I’m super excited to play with you all and to be a part of the team. I can’t wait to start training with you all tomorrow. Thank you for having me!”

Some of the girls clapped and let out whoops, and you blushed lightly. 

“You already know who most of the team are, I’m guessing,” Jonas said, and you nodded. “But I’ll let everyone introduce themselves to you tomorrow. For now, do I have any volunteers to show y/n around the training centre?”

Lia nudged Alessia, who just glared at her. 

“Alessia will do it!” the Swiss player called out, grinning. 

Jonas nodded. “Great, thank you, Alessia. You can take the rest of the morning to show y/n around, but I want you back in training after lunch, okay?”

Lia gave Alessia a small shove forward, as the striker was rooted to the ground, stomach churning at the thought of essentially being alone with you for the next hour until lunch. The push from Lia snapped her out of it, and she hurried over to you with a nervous smile. 

“Okay, back to training, everyone!” Jonas called out, clapping his hands. 

You felt like you could combust. Not only were you now on the same team as the girl you’d had a crush on for over a year now, but that same girl was the one who would be showing you around. 

“Hi,” you said shyly to her. “Um, it’s nice to meet you. Again, I guess.” 

For a second you felt a flash of fear - what if she didn’t remember playing against you? What if she had no idea who you were, or that you’d technically met on the pitch just a few months prior?

“Yeah! It’s nice to meet you, properly this time,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief that you remembered her. “I don’t, um, think we got to talk last time? But that goal you scored was amazing!”

“Thank you,” you said, blushing. “You played really well too. Oh, that sounds like I’m just saying it because you complimented me, I’m not, I promise, you really did play really well-”

“Thank you,” she cut you off, a pink tinge on her cheeks. The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, both of you desperately trying to think of something to say.

“So-”

“How-” 

You both started talking at the same time, then laughed. 

“Sorry, you go first,” you said.

“Oh, um, well, this is one of the other training pitches. We usually use the one the others are on right now, or this one,” she said. “Sorry, that’s not particularly interesting, um, what were you going to say?”

“No, it is interesting! Well, maybe not interesting, but useful to know, at the very least,” you insisted. “I was going to ask what it was like for you, when you joined? This is my first transfer, I wasn’t really sure what to expect.”

“It was much easier than I thought it was going to be,” she admitted. “I was really nervous about leaving Man United, and my friends there. But the team made me feel so welcome, it was like I was instantly a part of their family. Honestly, now it kind of feels like I’ve always been here, you know?”

You nodded. “That sounds nice. I hope it’s like that for me, too.”

“I’m sure it will be! Everyone’s been excited about you coming since Jonas told us.”

“Really?” you asked, blushing.

“Yeah! I- um, a lot of the girls are looking forward to getting to know you.” she said, quickly trying to cover up what she’d nearly admitted. You’d heard it though, the way she’d said ‘I’. You were tempted to push it, tease her a little, see if you could find out more about what she thought of you, but figured that maybe you should give it a couple of days, see if she let anything else slip.

“That’s nice. I’ve been looking forward to getting to know everyone here, too.” 

Especially Alessia, you thought. There was a lot you wanted to learn about her. You wanted to know what her favourite books and films were, what her go to comfort meal was, what the first thing she did when she got home from training was, but you also wanted to know what she would taste like if the two of you kissed, whether she was the big spoon or the little spoon, what she looked like under her clothes.

“This is the medical and rehabilitation centre,” she said, gesturing towards the building in front of you, wrenching you away from your thoughts. “Oh, actually, what did Jonas show you already? I guess there’s no point in me showing you places he already showed you.”

“Not much,” you shrugged, like you hadn’t just been thinking about what she looked like naked. “I basically just saw his office and then the route to the training pitch.”

She laughed. “Okay, so he’s just getting me to do his job.”

“Seems like it,” you grinned. “Sorry, I’m sure you’d rather be training.”

“What? No, not at all, really, I’m, um, more than happy to, um” she said, stammering a little in her rush to correct you, before taking a breath. “I’m happy to show you around, really.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. She was cute when she was flustered. Really cute, in fact. Despite the fact that you’d just told yourself to wait at least a few days before doing anything, you couldn’t help but tease her, just a little. “I really appreciate it,” you said, putting a hand on her arm and leaving it for a few seconds before moving on.

You watched her face as you touched her, eyes flitting to your hand and back to your eyes a couple of times, blush quickly rising to her cheeks. When you removed your hand, she snapped out of it, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair.

“Oh, um, anytime,” she said. Her mind was racing. Were you flirting with her? Surely not, right? It was just a hand on her arm, that didn’t mean anything. Right? 

“So, is this the gym?” you asked, gently prompting her. 

“Yeah!” she said brightly, trying to shake any thoughts of you flirting with her out of her head. “Yeah, this is the gym. We usually train in the mornings, but Jonas gives us a plan for the week on Mondays based on performance during the previous week’s match, if we have any games coming up, how many, that sort of thing.”

You nodded whilst she spoke, taking it all in. “Similar to my old club, then.”

“Were you sad to leave?” Alessia asked as she led you down the hall to whatever was next on the tour. “Oh, sorry, if that’s too personal it’s okay.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Yeah,” you admitted. “I was sad. I basically grew up there, you know? As soon as I was 18 they signed me, it’s pretty much all I’ve known. But it was time for a change, something new. I’m happy to be here, really. There’s a lot of players here that I really admire and have looked up to for a while. ”

She nodded thoughtfully, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to keep talking, see if you could make her blush again. 

“Actually, you’re one of the players I was most excited to meet,” you said, keeping your tone light, not looking at her as you said it. 

“Oh!” she giggled nervously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I think you’re an amazing player, you know?”

And really, really pretty, and ridiculously attractive, and sweet, and kind, and so much more than a good footballer, you thought. 

When you glanced over at her, her cheeks were bright red and her eyes wide. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and you nudged her gently. 

“You okay there?”

“Uh, yes, sorry!” she said, not meeting your eyes. “Thank you, um, that really means a lot to me.”

You smiled, satisfied with the blush on her cheeks. 

By the time she’d finished showing you around the training centre (which, you had to admit, was much nicer than your old club’s), the rest of your new teammates had come in for lunch. Jonas wanted to chat with you again before letting you go for the day, so you waved goodbye to the girls, already eager to start training with them tomorrow. 

“So, how did it go?” Lia asked Alessia as the blonde slumped down in the seat next to her.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Lia sat up straighter. “What, was it bad?”

“No, it was, ugh,” Alessia started, and then sighed. “How am I meant to just act like everything’s totally normal around her? She touched my arm and I felt like I was going to explode.”

Hu,” Lia said thoughtfully. “Did she do anything else?”

“She said that I was one of the players she was most excited to meet. And that I’m an amazing player,” Alessia said, blushing at the memory.

“Interesting,” Lia said, smirking.

“What?”

“Well, it kind of sounds like she might be flirting with you,” she shrugged.

“What? No way, don’t be silly,” Alessia said, biting her lip. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oka-ay,” Lia said in a sing-song voice, raising her eyebrows at the blonde, who just groaned again. 

-------

After a couple weeks with the club, you’d settled into a good routine. Alessia had been right - everyone welcomed you with open arms, and it didn’t take long for the club to feel like your new family. You’d made friends easily, especially with the other non-English players, like Vic, Lia and Laura. You still spoke to Alessia a lot, too, but you were worried about going too far with the teasing. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. So, you dialled it down. Not completely, though - you couldn’t help but see how much you could make the taller girl blush simply by putting a hand on her waist when you had to squeeze past her at the gym, and it was just too easy to catch her looking at you as you got changed. When you noticed her looking, you’d catch her eye and smile, and the speed at which she’d look away, cheeks burning, made you giggle. 

One day at lunch you were sat with Lia (or Wally, as you’d learnt everyone affectionately called her), Vic, and Alessia, when Alessia suddenly jumped up, looking at her phone.

“Shit, I forgot that I have physio in 5 minutes, sorry guys, bye!” she called as she hurried out of the cafeteria. 

“Typical Lessi,” Vic grinned rolling her eyes. Your eyes on the blonde as she left, you didn’t notice Wally watching you.

“So, y/n,” she said casually. “How’s your crush on Less going?”

“What?” you asked, startled.

“You haven’t exactly been subtle, you know?” Vic chimed in. 

“Ah,” you said sheepishly, then grinned. “Well, cat’s out of the box, I guess. Or bag. Whatever the saying is.”

No point in hiding it anymore, then. At least, not from them. You’d never been good at keeping secrets, anyway. 

“Are you going to do anything about it?” Wally asked.

You thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think I should? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” you said, frowning. 

“Oh, you should absolutely do something about it.” Wally said, smirking.

“Yeah,” Vic chimed in. “She likes you anyway, so what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Wait, she likes me?” you asked. Yeah, you’d hoped she did, but it was different to hear someone confirm it. 

“Vic!” Wally said exasperatedly, looking at her.

“What?” she shrugged, then frowned. “Wait, should I not have said that? You basically just said the same thing!”

“Yeah, but not like that!” 

“Well, too late now,” the Dutch player said, then turned to you, her eyes cleaning mischievously. “So, are you going to do something about it?”

“I mean, I might as well, right?” you said, as though your brain wasn’t already racing, trying to come up with ideas. 

“Need any help?”

“Nah, I’ve got this.”

-----

You started slow. When she helped you up after a tackle in training, you let your hands linger on hers just a few seconds longer than necessary. You spent a little longer getting changed, and once, when you noticed her watching you, you winked at her. You asked her to help you stretch after training one day, claiming your hamstrings were tight, and you had to force yourself not to laugh at the look on her face as she stood between your legs, desperately trying to keep her eyes from wandering. 

Then, you started to get a little bolder. Not too bold, you didn’t want to scare her off - and besides, you were having fun, teasing her. During lunch, when she was sat next to you, you let your knee rest against yours. You shifted in your seat a couple of times, moving, but your leg would somehow always end up pressed against hers. When you put your hand down to rest on your thigh, your pinky brushed against her leg, making her cough on the water she was drinking.

“Shit, you okay?” you asked, a hand on her back as she coughed. You hadn’t meant to make her jump that badly. 

She nodded, still coughing, and you rubbed circles on her back, trying to soothe the coughing. After a few seconds she stopped, face red. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, water just, um, went down the wrong way,” she said, clearing her throat a little. You moved your hand from her back and your leg away from hers, worried that maybe you were pushing too hard. She glanced at you, and let her leg rest against yours.

You weren’t convinced. Despite the fun you were having, you obviously didn’t want to go too far, ruin whatever this was or could be before it had even started. When the group of you headed out, towards the changing rooms, you hung back, as did Alessia. 

“Can we talk?” you asked her, and she frowned. “Maybe in private, somewhere?”

“Um, yeah, okay. One of the physio rooms is probably empty. Only one of the physios is in today, so we should be fine to use this room,” she explained, knocking before opening the door to an empty room. 

When the two of you were inside, the door closed, she looked at you, biting her lip nervously. “So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check whether all this was okay with you?” you asked.

“All of what?” she asked, confused. 

“All of this,” you said, stepping closer. You heard her breath hitch when you placed a hand on her waist, and watched her cheeks get pinker when you tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear with the other hand. “Is this okay? I just wanted to check. If it’s not, I’ll stop-”

She nodded her head first, then quickly changed to shaking it when you talked about stopping. “No, no, it’s- it’s okay. I promise.”

“Yeah?” you asked, relief washing through you. “You sure?”

She nodded again, blushing, and put a hand on your arm. “Yeah. Please, um, don’t stop.”

“Okay,” you agreed easily, letting her pull you closer, until your bodies were almost touching. “You look really, really cute when you blush, by the way.”

Her eyes widened, and you could see the pulse in her neck throbbing. You wondered what it would feel like beneath your lips. You could find that out later, though. You watched her lips part slightly as she breathed out, nervous, and you could feel her breath against your skin. 

You leant forward at the same time she did, your heart racing as her soft lips touched yours. You had wanted this for so long. The kiss was impossibly sweet and gentle, until her hand found its way into your hair and tugged lightly, making you moan into the kiss. 

Still worried about pushing too far, you pulled away from her, ignoring the way your body protested. She rested her forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Was that okay?” you asked.

“That was more than okay,” she said, smiling, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “Except… why did you stop?”

You let out a small laugh. “Because, unfortunately, we should probably get going. Everyone is going to start wondering where we are.”

“Ugh,” Alessia pouted, and you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her again. You could feel her smiling into the kiss, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, kissing her, when her phone buzzed. She pulled away with a sigh. “Okay, I guess you’re right. But how am I just meant to go back and act like everything’s normal?”

“You tell me, pretty girl,” you said, and she blushed. “I’ve been dreaming about doing that for a very long time, and now that I finally get to, I have to stop in the middle of it.”

“Wait, a long time? How long?” she asked, a confused look on her face. “You’ve only been here a few weeks.” 

“Honestly?” Now you were the one blushing. “Since the Euros. I was watching, and when I saw your goal, I just thought, holy shit. She’s incredible. And really fucking gorgeous.”

Alessia was bright red now, and brought her hands up to cover her face. You quickly grabbed her wrists, gently pulling her hands down. You heard her breathe in sharply as you took a hold of her wrists, and decided to file that away for future reference. For now, you just wanted to see her face.

“I can’t believe you’ve been thinking about me for so long,” she admitted. “I’m nothing special, I’m just boring old me.”

You shook your head. “You’re so much more than that. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you see how amazing you are. I can be very persuasive,” you said with a wink, making her heart skip a beat. 

Just then, both of your phones started ringing. “Shit, we should probably go,” Alessia said, and you nodded, sighing wistfully. 

“Just… one more kiss?”

#alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #awfc #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo fanfic #alessia russo fluff #hannah writes fics

[maapllee]

All The Stars~ PT.2

BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.2

A/N: I didn't expect the prequel to this to get as much attention as it did. I'm so grateful you guys liked it, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too. <333

☁︎ [You and Bakugou were always head to head, fighting for the top spot.

The tension between you and Bakugou was firey, pushing both of you as well as 1A to perform better. Aizawa Sensei secretly appreciated the effect the both of you had on the rest of the class- he would let you both drop detention for disrupting the class for the 7th time in a row.

Your admiration for Bakugou started when you saw him save civilians from a falling building before he had his license. He was chewed out for it endlessly- not that he cared. You observed from the sidelines, noting he wasn't as heartless nor avoidant as you had previously thought.] ☁︎

ALL THE STARS~ PT.1 | ALL THE STARS~ PT.3

Katsuki Bakugou found himself looking forward to Wednesdays.

Wednesdays? That's a weird day to look forward to, apart from art class or PE or something. As the weeks progressed, so did the number of gifts in Bakugou's locker- with Bakugou's increasing frustration, of course. The gifts were obviously from one person. "It ain't even close to Valentine's Day, which blockhead is causing all this trouble?" Bakugou'd answer irritably when questioned. Lucky for you, you convinced Hatsume to help you delete the footage when you'd pick his locker open.

His secret admirer. What if it was a prank? What if it was one of his peers? What if it was some crazy stalker like Toga? He found himself scared again. Scared of being hurt. After being kidnapped by the League, his anxiety and nightmares made him spiral. To wake up in a cold sweat at 4:23 was now a habit. He'd sulk and bury his head into his pillow as if it'd absorb his anger. All he could think about these nights was this secret admirer of his. They were really something, THE great dynamite king killer blah blah Bakugou found himself staying up at night, face flushed as he thought of them.

BAKUGOU woke up drenched in his own sweat again. His bedsheets were damp with sweat as the air around him was stuffy. Relief washed over him as he slumped back against the wall and realised it was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. He placed his feet on the cold tiles on the floor, deciding to go for a run.

☾

His mind was foggy- with thoughts of his secret admirer. He'd hate to admit that those 'high protein chocolates' helped him buff up and increase his stamina as well. The cool air rustled through the trees along the path he jogged. He saw someone sleeping under one of the trees as the sun was rising, the light illuminating the person. The nearer he got, the faster his heart beat.

The soft rays of the sun glazed over your skin like honey. You were fast asleep on the soft grass, mouth slightly open. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at your sight- he was very vocal about how much he hated you. Though obvious to you and the rest of the Bakusquad that he had a soft spot for you. Passing you cold water during breaks, buying you a soda from the nearest vending machine after a long day of patrolling during your internship. "It's only so that they can try to become better than me, it's funny to watch them try." He'd say.

Whatever he felt or said, it was hard to deny you were attractive. Your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your beautiful smile.

He'd tilt his head as he watched you from his desk as you giggled alongside Mina as you laughed at another one of Kaminari's pranks. He loved how your eyes would light up at seeing your favourite side dishes on the menu at the cafeteria and the cute expressions you made while eating, the way your nose danced as you chewed on the food. And right now, he loved how your hair spread out on the grass as you dreamt on.

Noticing a blueish diary next to you, his body moved before he could register. The first few pages were filled with sketches of cats and pros, along with some classmates. He sat down cross-legged next to you, careful not to wake you as he flipped through the diary.

Katsuki Fucking Bakugou knew darn well he was wrong- and that made him feel some type of way. Curiosity blew up the cat?

His warm fingers traced the sketches as his face heated up despite the morning chill. He leaned against the bark of the tree, propping the book on his knees. A slip of neon paper fell out as he admired the sketches- the neon orange paste-it drifted onto the dewy grass. Bakugou picked it up, noting the familiarity. There were only three words on the neon note.

☾

Katsuki ran towards the dorms with your diary in his hand, beet red. He shook his head as those words swam through his mind- such a simple arrangement of three words, really.

High Protein Chocolate.

A/N: PT.3 coming soon, please stay tuned~

#katsuki x reader #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #self insert #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fanfiction #secret admirer #bakugou x secret admirer #bnha x secret admirer #mha x secret admirer #secret admirer reader

[lucyrose191]

12 YEARS LATER, PART 2| S.O BLACK

Pairing; POA!Sirius Black x wife!reader

Summary; It’s been 12 years since Y/N last saw her husband, now it was time to see him for the first time, what could she say to him?

Warnings; Angst? Fluff, Sirius probably looks like death

HP/Marauders Master List

Sirius felt happiness and immense relief to see that the home you shared all of those years ago hadn’t changed at all, the garden was still well kept and from what he could see through the windows of the living room, it was still decorated the same way.

It was like a breath of fresh air being back in the place that held so many memories and loving moments; moments that had gotten him through the past twelve years of hell.

Knowing he was innocent had protected his sanity against the dementors but remembering those soft touches and electric kisses had kept him half happy.

He frequently dreamt of those slow mornings you spent together, that feeling of pure happiness he felt back then to wake up next to you, being able to see you first thing in the morning was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for.

He hadn’t really known how lucky he was back then to have those small moments; he had only realised when it had been taken away from him.

Sirius had thought about you every single day. He wondered how you looked, if you had moved on and created a family, if you hated him…

And now, his heart was pounding in his chest as he scratched at the door with his paw, knowing that you and Harry were merely on the other side.

He could hear your voice and whilst it was more matured and had lost that young playfulness he once knew, it was still you.

He waited. Waited. Waited.

As each minute passed by, his heart beat more erratic in his chest.

Eventually, the door opened.

It wasn’t you, it was Harry stood there with a massive smile on his face at the sight of his godfather.

Even though he knew there was no one around for miles, Sirius cautiously looked around before he transformed back into himself. "It’s good to see you again, Harry," his voice was hoarse and gruff from its lack of use but still held its friendly tone.

Harry launched himself into Sirius’ arms, catching the latter off guard and almost sending him tumbling off the sheer force of the impact but he welcomed the embrace with a chuffed laugh. "I’m glad you’re staying here, Padfoot."

Sirius mindfully patted Harry’s back as he pulled away, smiling slightly but Harry could tell that Sirius wasn’t really paying much attention, he could see the distraction in the way his godfather was looking over his shoulder into the house, as though hoping to catch sight of something, or someone. "Where’s your godmother?" He asked in a dreaded whisper.

Harry shuffled awkwardly as he looked back into the house before looking back to Sirius. "Uhm, she’s in the kitchen preparing dinner."

Sirius swallowed but nodded, releasing a nervous sigh as he looked to the ground then back up, not really knowing what to do.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that you weren’t really impressed with the last minute bomb he dropped on you when you weren’t ready and that Sirius was at a loss to what he could say to you after over a decade of being without you. Harry had put the three of you in this situation and felt the responsibility to guide you through it.

"Why don’t you go to my room and you can get cleaned up and I can find you some clothes to wear then you can join us and have something proper to eat?" He suggested, sighing in relief when Sirius nodded, seeming to like that idea.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that it was beginning to ache, the pain almost becoming unbearable as you heard footsteps behind you.

"It’s just me," Harry spoke, calming you instantly, causing you to turn around.

"Where is he?" You whispered, looking around wearing, you felt uneasy in your own house knowing that he was nearby.

"I took him upstairs to my room so he could shower, do you know if we have any clothes he could change into?" Harry asked.

You paused for a moment before speaking. "I do, actually." Thinking back to the boxes hidden away at the back of your wardrobe, you didn’t know if they’d still fit him but they were his.

"Could you grab them for me and I’ll take them to him?" You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen, leaving Harry to keep an eye on the food.

You could hear the sound of running water that came from Harry’s en-suite; he was so close yet so far and you had no idea how to feel about it.

You grabbed him clean socks, underwear, joggers and a t-shirt, even going as far as pulling out some of his old hair care products that used to crowd the bathroom counter knowing that Azkaban probably hadn’t been great for his hair and that would have broken your Sirius’ heart.

Sirius couldn’t fight his smile at the sight of the clothes and products that had been left on Harry’s bed for him, they were his, you had kept them all of these years, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

He had purposely taken his time getting dressed whether he was aware of it or not, he was trying to prolong the time it would take to see you, hoping he’d think of something he could say to you, he hadn’t thought of anything by the time he had finished so he just bit the bullet and slowly made his way downstairs.

The entire house was the way he had left it that Halloween night in 1981, only with the addition of photos of you and Harry from throughout the years, it made him smile to see that you had both had a nice life, the only thing that made him sad was that it had been just the two of you and he hadn’t been there with you.

The sound of your’s and Harry’s voices floating from the kitchen filled his heart, he could tell the bond between the pair of you was strong.

As soon as he hit the threshold of the kitchen, the chatter immediately stopped, the pair of you were already sat as the table with your plates in front of you; a large plate of food was sat in front of an empty chair opposite you, waiting for him.

The two of you made eye contact and every thought in his mind disappeared, all those words he wanted to say to you no longer mattered because everything that needed to be said was spoken just from looking into your eyes.

You were beautiful, just as you had been back then and you still had the same effect on him. The air was sucked from his lungs and he was punched in the face with the most overwhelming feeling of love he had ever experienced, the ring that had remained on his finger since you were nineteen was suddenly weighed down by his feelings for you that hadn’t disappeared in the slightest, even after so long apart.

His eyes shot to your left hand and his chest grew heavy at the lack of jewellery on your finger, he had to remind himself that he had betrayed you though, by leaving you that night with no telling of what he was doing, he had simply left and not returned.

"Padfoot," Harry’s voice cut through the tension between the two of you. "You should eat something," he pointed towards the plate that was piled with food.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded weakly, carefully making his way to the table and sitting down, it was as though he thought any movement that was too fast would break something between you that hadn’t yet been fixed.

The three of you sat in the most intense silence; Sirius and Harry ate but you had quickly lost your appetite, the sight of him had just about torn you in two.

He was all skin and bone, every movement he made showed just how weak he was, the shaking of his hands a sign of his lack of nutrition.

Even though you hadn’t seen him before his shower you know it must have done him well because his skin was clean and he looked fresh, his facial hair was neatly groomed and his hair, though longer than you remember, was in its typical ringlets, a sharp contrast to the way he looked in the wanted posters you had seen.

Sirius was thankful to eat something that wasn’t wild animals he had hunted; food that was actually filling and would give him the energy he lacked.

He could feel the glances you kept sending him but kept his head down and his attention focused on his meal, he was afraid of what you would say to him.

Would you tell him you had moved on a long time ago and you were simply doing this for Harry?

The sound of you clearing your throat caused him to look up, Harry had disappeared without him noticing, it was just the two of you, your eyes looking into his with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

"I’m glad you’re okay," you spoke, voice ever so gentle.

Sirius dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, focusing all of his attention on you. "I’m glad you and Harry are okay, it was all I ever thought about," he replied.

The roughness of his voice took you by surprise but you suppose it shouldn’t have considering the lack of people he had to speak to whilst he was imprisoned.

"A part of me was worried, knowing you were out there all alone," you confessed.

Your words made his heart swell but he knew better than to get his hopes up. "And the other? Worried that I wanted to hurt him?" He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice, the thought of you thinking he could do such a thing would break him.

"Worried that you didn’t want to actually, I was worried that everything the public knew about you was wrong and that you were out there all alone in the cold and wanting to do something good. Because it meant you had been locked up all those years for nothing and well, that worry was a reality."

Your words comforted him but there was one thing they had been on his mind since he had spoken to Harry for the first time. "You only told him about me at the beginning of the year when I escaped, why?"

You looked down at the table, tears in your eyes. "It was just me and Harry for years, I had all these photographs for him and all of these stories about James and Lily. There was a constant in the photos that he was curious about, the man with the cheeky smile and the long, curly hair. I just told him you were an old friend because I couldn’t tell the little boy he was back then that the entire Wizarding world thought you were the reason they were dead and I didn’t want to tell him my thoughts either because I wanted him to decide what he wanted to think when he was old enough and he did."

"And what were your thoughts?" He asked the dreaded question.

You smiled painfully and shook your head. "That you are the most irrational and dare I say irresponsible man that I have ever met in my life and you were overwhelmed with grief that night, so much so that you didn’t at all think straight about the outcome of your actions. You were just filled with betrayal and heartbreak that the only thing you cared about was getting revenge and I never blamed you for that, I only ever blamed you for losing the life you deserved to live, losing the life we could have shared."

Sirius’ eyes welled up at your words, both from relief that you never thought he did what he was accused of and guilt for the way he had acted that night, knowing that he had caused you a hell of a lot of loss, loss of the life you had wanted to build with him.

He was suddenly wracked with the emotion of the reality of what had actually happened and what he had missed out on, what you both had missed out on. "Did you-" he wanted to ask but you were already shaking your head.

"Absolutely not, there was never anyone else, it was only ever you and I never had to question it." There was such confidence in your words and it shot right into his chest, it was as though those words had broken the dam that had hidden his emotions because the flood gates had opened and Sirius buried his head in his hands as sobs wracked through his body.

You jumped up from your seat and made your way around the table, taking Harry’s vacant seat and pulling it right up beside Sirius’, wrapping your arms around him.

Sirius leaned into your body, allowing himself to be fully wrapped up in your arms.

It wasn’t long before his sobs stopped but he made no effort to move from your embrace, instead he relished in the familiar comfort that he had longed for and allowed himself to smile as he smelled the scent of the perfume you still wore and had worn since you were a teenager.

You pressed a kiss into his hair before resting your head against his. "I missed you so much." You assured him.

"I missed you, you and Harry were all I ever thought about, you got me through it, you’ve always been my strength." He muttered into your shoulder.

You closed your eyes at his words, not wanting to cry but it was hard, you had him in your arms again and it filled you with so many overwhelming emotions.

"You’re still so beautiful," you laughed at his muffled compliment, squeezing him tighter in response.

"I’m glad you’re here, Sirius. I’m so happy you’re back." You told him.

"Me too," he sighed, then waited for a moment before asking. "Where are your rings?"

You silently and reluctantly pulled away from him but remained close. You reached up and pulled out the chain that was hanging from your neck, hanging from the chain were two rings; one was a simple, thin, silver band and the other was a diamond encrusted band with a large, rectangle shaped, white sapphire in the centre.

"I knew Harry would ask questions because he’s so nosey but I wants to keep them on me," you explained.

Sirius nodded with a smile, happy you still kept them and wore them, his smile widened as he watched you remove the chain from your neck and remove the rings before placing them on your left hand where they belonged.

He moved forward and rested his forehead against yours, not necessarily ready to let go just yet.

Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen, you were right, he was nosey but he didn’t really care. He was way too amazed at the sight in front of him, he could quite literally see the connection that was shared between his godparents and was beyond happy that the two of you were able to be reunited and hopefully make your way back to each other.

You would make your way back to each other, Sirius was your family and he was your home. The connection between the two of you hadn’t been lost in the time apart and it only made you more confident in the fact that Sirius Black was your soulmate, he was the other half of your heart and there’s no one else you would wait so long for or want to spend your life with.

You loved him more than anything and well aware that he felt the same way about you.

Tag list; those who asked to be tagged in part 2. @bullets-from-another-dimension @babyclea @mel-vaz @crowleythesexydemon @mspotterh

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius black #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic

[panicpixieplaygirl]

I’D HAVE YOU ANY TIME (anakin skywalker)

notes: i hope this is good. i like it but idk writing for star wars seems very intimidating. also hope y’all don’t mind the mini font, i like it so. anyway pls enjoy don’t yell at me <3

synopsis: still a beatles girl at heart…, ‘let me in here, i know i’ve been here, let me into your heart’. anakin being sore & whiny & persistent as always. loosely based on attack of the clones which will be obvious

warnings: smut!!! 😙✌🏼oral (fem receiving). pnv, creampieeeee. ridiculous overuse of many many words (so sorry).

18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 5.1k

You were sick of Anakin’s prying. Barging into your mind when he thought you least expected it, irritating you with his desperation and earnesty. He was like a puppy scratching at the door, and no matter how much you shooed him away, he persisted. Nonstop, every moment of every day, for weeks.

He followed you around like a puppy, too. That was his assignment, unfortunately; to protect you from threats on your life while you were in hiding, but he was excessive. From the moment you met him once again back on Coruscant, he was never more than a few feet away, eyes never off you for more than a few seconds, constantly trying to break into your mind.

He was one of few who knew you were knowledgeable and strong in a small few of the Force’s ways. You weren’t exactly fit to be a Jedi, but you had incredible control over your mind and others’, and Anakin was determined to best you.

Between his undivided attention and that of countless people among your home planet and the rest of the Republic, you were amazed you had yet to go completely mad.

You were used to holding your composure well, inside & out, but that didn’t mean you were unaffected by it all, despite how hard you tried to be. All you wanted was to try to use this time as a few moments of solitary peace among the chaos. But your assigned protector was just too diligent.

It didn’t help that your guard had fallen weak when the two of you were re-introduced for this assignment. Anakin got into your head once, & he held on tightly to what he witnessed.

He was awaiting your arrival when you saw him, for the first time in 10 years, standing at the entrance of the ship where he & Obi-Wan would accompany you to Naboo to stow away. You nearly lost awareness of your surroundings as you approached him.

He was extraordinarily stunning. It was entirely unexpected- a dramatic contrast of the boy you once knew. A brand new man. A Jedi, at that. You wanted to stop looking at him, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, everything else blurred into nothing.

Anakin could just faintly sense your shock & interest. It normally came of no surprise to him that he was visually admired, but you… intimidated him, some way, some how- weakened him. He dreamt of your face every night for the last decade, saw you just as real and beautiful as you stood before him now, but this was no dream. He was thrilled he’d earned your eye.

“Hello, your Highness. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Anakin spoke, his voice gracing your ears and sending a warm glow shining and spreading in your chest and your cheeks. You nodded with a smile to greet him back.

You shared a gaze that felt deep and intense, falling into each other’s eyes and gently mingling with each other’s spirits. Seconds began to feel like hours.

Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped as you stood before the young man. You kept a plain face, mouth gently pursed in a polite smile, but your eyes were glued to him. The words he and Obi-Wan exchanged in the short moments before boarding fell on deaf ears.

He took your hand to help you onto the ship, his much larger fingers delicately closing over yours, placing his other on the small of your back as he supported you. The sweet and intimate contact electrified you, sent your body sparking and ablaze. You were too overcome from it all to block him out of your mind, and he forced his way in.

His dreamy eyes, his plump lips, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you, like his very existence was for the sake of swooning you, swirling & flashing & unrelenting in your head. You imagined what his lips felt like on yours and over your skin, his hands touching you tenderly and manhandling you, the weight of his body over yours.

Anakin saw your mind swimming and glittering with him, and it took all the strength he had to stop himself from pulling you in his arms and catching your lips right then. He couldn’t stop the sly smile that came across his mouth and deepened at your subsequent focus on it.

“If you need me to help clear your mind,” Anakin started in a teasing tone, “Just ask.” Suddenly it wasn’t so hard to tear your eyes from him. You blushed for the rest of night.

Since then, in the weeks that followed, he spent nearly every waking moment trying to break his way back into your head. He needed to know why you wouldn’t give in to him, if you still thought of him, if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. It gave him just enough hope to be relentless.

And it gave you just enough embarrassment to never let it happen again. He was a Jedi, after all, and an important one. The entire galaxy would suffer if he were to be expelled. It wasn’t worth risking.

You didn’t know how any person could be so persistent for so long. Surely it must have been as tiring for him to be blocked countless times as it was for you to block him. It was like a pressure in your head, a twitch in your ear, urging you to crack. And you had to snap it back in place a hundred times a day.

That was just fighting Anakin’s use of the Force. You had to grapple with yourself as well, pushing away your ache to have him close. It helped that he was truly getting under your skin with his constant probing.

To make matters worse, just days after you reached Naboo, Obi-Wan was called back to Coruscant for a separate mission, rarely returning, leaving you alone with Anakin for days at a time. All there was for you to do was face how beautiful he was, how badly he wanted to get inside your head, and how much it all bothered you. Every day.

You needed a break, as much distance between you and Anakin as you could safely manage. Desperately.

By the fourth week you knew the planet much better. Your body was accustomed to the weather and the rise and fall of the Sun. You learned that Anakin liked to sleep in when Obi-Wan wasn’t around, but he wasn’t always a heavy sleeper. You devised something of a plan.

You woke up at dawn the next morning, moving quietly about the hut. You were careful to grab a weapon in case you should need it, and a small snack. By the grace of the Maker, you managed to make it out without waking Anakin. You would head down to the river at the bottom of the valley, only a 15 minute walk.

You listened carefully for footsteps around you as you went, watched carefully for any unfamiliar movement. You had been feeling safe, Obi-Wan assuring there’d been no talk of where you might be, but it was your first time out alone.

Somewhere along the way you realized you were just as nervous that Anakin would be following you, constantly looking back behind you, expecting to see him more than anything come to assassinate you.

But there was never anything, at least that you could sense. Sometimes a peculiar little animal, a fluttering insect, a tweeting bird, but no person. You began to relax quickly. Naboo served you a feast of fine alone time in minutes.

The sun was rising as the terrain under your feet transitioned from grass to sand. You took one last long look toward the field and forest behind you before deciding that if you didn’t feel him, he must not have been there.

You turned back toward the river. The sound of the waves, the smell of the silt and the water, the pink orange sky delighted your senses and you felt excitement flood your veins.

You slipped off your shoes and dug your feet into the sand, dragging them out into the water. You splashed & giggled in celebration of finally getting a wonderful moment alone.

You resisted the urge to get the rest of the way in and sat in the sand. Already the time alone you had from the moment you woke up and got along your journey was a breath of fresh air. You tried to enjoy it while it lasted. You’d have to go back before Anakin would wake if you wanted to continue doing this.

The trouble was, after you had enough time to absorb and sink into the scenery, your thoughts naturally drifted to him.

You laid against the sand and closed your eyes. You saw the first time you visited the river, watching him splash his face with water, fitting into the beauty of the valley perfectly.

You did wish things could be different, that you could give in to Anakin and stay here on Naboo, but you each had commitments to people in the galaxy.

Just like a puppy, it wasn’t long before you heard his footsteps following your path and his paws scratching at the door to your mind once again. Thankfully you’d become even quicker on your feet. You smiled to yourself, it was nearly getting funny to deny him.

“Aren’t you tired of that? It’s been nearly a month.” You called out to him as he came closer to you.

“Aren’t you?” Anakin teased, standing above you where you lay.

He was breathtaking from this angle, towering over you. Your eyes locked, and it felt like that first moment by the ship all over again. Everything else faded but him. The planet stopped turning, a warmth spread throughout your body, and you couldn’t look away. After all this time and pestering, you did still, truly want him.

His own breath actually faltered at the sight of you below him. He wanted more than anything just to have you, pull you close enough to feel your breath, your pulse, your lips, your smooth hands on his skin.

You were so beautiful. Hair against the sand, face sweet, radiating with a soft joy. Your arms stretched above your head, elongating your figure, your hands tangled in the grass. He imagined them tangled in his hair, and you smiled as his cheeks turned pink.

You were more than a Queen to him. A goddess. Always perfectly poised, even when you weren’t. Everything you did pleased him. He wanted more.

You were becoming aware of just how deeply you affected him.

“Well, you caught me. You can drag me back now, ruin all my fun.” You joked, holding your hands up and together as though you were waiting for cuffs.

He smiled and shook his head at your antics. If only he could catch you already. You were getter better at blocking him out of your head each day.

He laid on his side next to you in the sand. A little too close for your liking, his arm brushing against your hair.

“I don’t ruin all your fun. I’m just keeping you safe.” He spoke. “It is my job, after all. You really should be with me at all times.” His eyes were always sickeningly sincere, always wearing that stupid slick grin.

“After all this time, you don’t crave a moment alone?” You laughed, looking at him in amazement.

“Why would I? Your company is too sweet. And I believe in fulfilling my duties thoroughly.” He teased, relishing in your laughter.

“Oh, is that so?” You rolled your eyes as you giggled, sitting up and beginning to dust and shake the sand off of you. “And how long did it take you to realize I was gone, oh great protector?”

“I felt you leave.” He admitted in that smooth voice of his, and you turned to look back at him as his tone turned more serious. “I gave you as much time as I could stand.”

You wished you could say the needy look on his face didn’t make your heart ache. But you wouldn’t let him notice. You stood up, slipped your shoes back on and began collecting your things.

“When is Obi-Wan due back? Have you heard from him?”

“No message.” He said, still watching you with that needy look in his eye. Why couldn’t he have you already?

“Aren’t you coming?” You asked when you noticed he never stood up.

“Give me a hand?” He asked, reaching out toward you.

You reached out to grab his hand and help him up. You should’ve known better.

“Anakin!” you gasped as you were pulled down, his arms trapping you against his chest. You held back your laughter, but you couldn’t keep down your smile.

He turned you both over so he was above you, gently pinning your arms down, not enough to hurt, just enough so that you couldn’t move. He would never hurt you. He just wanted to look at you for a bit longer.

Seconds became hours once again as you got lost in each other.

You tried to steady your breathing after all the sudden movement, but it was no use. Not when he was holding you down and looking at you like he worshipped you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breath fanning over you, his lips dangerously close, they called to you.

You imagined caressing his face with your fingertips, brushing your thumb on his lip, how smooth and plump he’d feel under your gentle hand. You could feel your fingers pulsing at the thought. His eyes closed like he could feel your touch.

You wanted to feel his lips and his breath all over, trailing down and over every inch of your body and drowning you. To see those eyes looking up at you while his tongue pleasured you between your thighs…

Anakin could feel the intensity dripping off you. He was so close to breaking you, he knew it. He just had to get inside you.

You were starting to get too hot. Touching you, pressing up close to you, it was all too much. You had to get him off of you.

“Anakin,” you mumbled, turning your head away from him, resuming time. His eyes opened and he almost looked pained in your peripheral.

He lifted away from you and helped you to your feet.

“I know you want me.” He said boldly, and you nearly reacted.

“Enough.” You said calmly, shaking your head.

“You won’t let me see.”

“You won’t let me be.” You mumbled, beginning the journey back.

“I know you want me.” He repeated. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. It isn’t fair.” He followed behind you, his tone characteristically sour and whiny.

You normally only heard him speak in such a way about the Jedi Council. You wouldn’t entertain it pertaining to you. Maybe he didn’t understand why the Council ruled the way it did, but he knew very well why you couldn’t indulge him.

When he realized you wouldn’t respond, he began again. “There’s no use in fighting it any longer. I’ll get to you eventually.”

You sighed, and laughed lightly. He was nothing if not determined. “In your dreams, Skywalker.”

He stopped in his tracks. How had he not thought of that before?

The rest of the day went by remarkably easily, and quietly. Anakin didn’t bother you at all. For a good portion of the morning you didn’t notice, but after you flashed through your knitting without a single word or a push of the Force toward you, you were almost worried that something had happened to him.

You went to refresh your tea and check on him, and found him on the main room, surfing his datapad, not busy at all.

You took your time preparing your drink, waiting for him to come up beside you, give a slick comment, jiggle the knob of the door to your mind, but he did nothing. He ignored you.

You returned to your room even more confused than before. Was he really that angry that you’d gone off earlier without him? Maybe he’d finally grown tired of pining after you so hopelessly. Or maybe something had gone wrong back on Coruscant, or your home planet. Maybe something was wrong here. It pained you not knowing.

And you’d be damned if you’d be vulnerable enough to ask him why he wasn’t talking to you.

You went to sleep that night still wondering about it. He hardly said a word to you all day long. It couldn’t have been to urgent if he didn’t tell you anything, but that almost seemed worse- that would mean it was personal.

You thought it would be a relief not to be bothered by him, but it was much worse without him. You hated to admit it, but you missed him, a profound yearning, deep in your chest and abdomen.

Your bed felt colder & lonelier tonight.

You closed your eyes and you saw him at the river that morning, holding you close below him, his eyes watching you with the need you felt now. It seared through you, straight to your core. Maker, wanted to feel him next to you.

As you fell into your sleep you could feel yourself there, feel him leaning down, peppering gentle kisses into your neck. His hips pressing and rocking against you in time with the waves on the rocks. You dreamed of wrapping your legs around him, feeling him hardening against your core.

Your legs clenched together and you let out a sigh in your sleep. Your hands gripped the sheets as you dreamt of balling your hands up under his hold on you, you breathed out his name as you dreamt of pleading to touch him. Your longing after a day without Anakin made you weak, needy, desperate.

He had expected it. He had executed it, actually. Anakin wanted to make you feel how he felt, every night for the past 10 years. It nearly killed him in the process, abstaining from you for the day, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

You were weak now, and he could finally feel how badly you wanted him.

Anakin heard is name fall past your lips as though it were amplified in his ear, echoing and rippling through his body.

He could feel the heat pooling between your thighs, pulling at him, making his heart thump. He could feel the waves of thirst coursing through you, he knew you must have been dripping, and his mouth dried up without you on his tongue. He felt so dangerously dehydrated.

He wanted you to come to him, to wake from your sleep throbbing with need as he had so many nights before, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer. His cock was painfully hard already, his sheets were torture compared to the certain relief of your warm pillowy insides.

He didn’t care about the Jedi Code, he needed you. And now he knew for certain that you needed him, he had an unrelenting compulsion to fulfill you.

You didn’t hear Anakin enter your room, but you felt his eyes on you, felt the arousal dripping off him and filling the air. Your eyes opened slowly to see him standing beside your bed, looking down at you with dark eyes.

You felt chills as you looked at him. His chest was bare and heaving, his cock prominent in his pants, grown even more stiff at the sight of you.

“Anakin-” you started timidly, but the feeling of his hand grazing up your arm and resting on the back of your neck cut you off.

“Do you want me?” He asked lowly, his thumb brushing you gently. His voice made you quiver. He knew very well that you did. You had a lot of will power, but not enough to resist him before you like this. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you whispered. You hated to be so yielding, but you couldn’t fight it any longer. You knew he must’ve seen your dream. “Please, Anakin.” You reached out with staggered breathing, resting your hand on the tight, hot skin above his pants.

He didn’t say a word, just looked at you. You were exhausted of his depriving you, especially when it was clear that he wanted you badly.

Your hand dipped below his waistline, grasping him over his pants and shuddering at the feel of his hardness. You wanted a reaction out of him, but it seemed to have affected you more. You outright whimpered as you gripped him. Your mouth watered, your cunt felt offensively empty, something overcame you.

You sat upright eagerly, eyes drunk with lust and slickness sticking to your thighs, delighted to finally touch him.

His breath went from heavy to shaky, fighting to keep his composure. He grew thirstier by the millisecond, eager to see what you’d do, so desperate to be pleasured by you, to see you in your entirety.

You pushed his pants off his hips and moaned as he sprung free, thick & throbbing & leaking. His dick was just as stunning as the rest of him.

Already he was under your thumb again, your clothed body making him feel extra bare. The trance you were in as you looked at him sent shocks through his body.

His hand tangled in your hair, squeezing gently to get your attention. Your eyes met his and you could see he was just as weak & desperate as you were.

He nearly came on the spot when you looked up at him, legs clenched together, surely preserving a dripping nirvana under your nightgown.

He’d had enough.

Anakin brought your lips to his and kissed you passionately. It just spurred you on more. You whined into his mouth. His plump lips against yours made your head spin and your cunt call out for him.

Your hand that wasn’t in his hair finally drifted toward his cock, wrapping a tender hand around it and spreading the precum over his tip. He felt so hard, it lit you on fire. Anakin groaned into your mouth, the hand on the back of your neck tightened.

Your hand on him was bliss, just as soft and skilled as he imagined, but he had to stop it. He was sensitive to the new and heavily anticipated feeling, and he wanted to last long enough to get inside you.

He tore your hand away in a harsh grip and pulled away from the kiss. You opened your mouth to protest but then his lips were on your neck and all you could do was sigh.

“I need to see you,” He said into your neck, and you thought you may melt into a puddle.

He began to push up your nightgown, fingers brushing up your thighs, squeezing into you to feel your every curve. Suddenly he was kissing and squeezing you more roughly, getting more worked up at the feel of your naked body and the idea of finally seeing you bare.

Anakin pulled away from your neck to strip the dress over your head. His face was so pink and flustered as he drank you in, you thought he’d faint.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his hands coming up to rest on your waist, then sliding up to cup your breasts, gently squeezing your nipple, making you gasp.

“Maker, you’re so beautiful,” He repeated, bringing his lips back to yours before moving back to your neck, and further down your body. Your whole body buzzed and sparked in the path of his kisses, electricity hyperfocused where you needed him most.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, level with your core, and your hands tangled in his hair to keep you upright. He went into that deep, intimidating focus he often did, his eyes glazed over as he spread your thighs with his thumbs. He moaned at how you glistened.

His arms came around your back to hold you up as his tongue finally pressed against your clit and made you gasp. He pushed his tongue between your folds and licked you up, sucking your clit into his mouth as he reached the top.

Anakin’s tongue entered you and circled you and sucked you so well your head was swimming. You couldn’t stop the sounds that fell from your mouth, gasping and whining wantonly.

He would tease you with the tip of his tongue, then press it wide and flat and wet against you, careful to please and light every nerve.

Your legs grew weak and he lowered you on your back gently, his mouth never leaving you. He ate you like a man starved, diligent as ever.

One of his hands returned to your breast, and the other came up to your cunt and made you clench around his tongue in anticipation.

He gently pressed his finger into your wet hole and moaned at how the softness enveloped him, his cock twitching in the air. He focused his tongue on your clit while he fucked his finger into you, and you thought you might explode.

“Ah, Anakin,” you gasped, tensing around his finger. His mouth left you and you whined.

He kissed your thigh, adding a second finger to distract you from the loss of his mouth and stretch you out. His cock yearned for you as he watched his fingers disappear inside you, your face contorted in the pleasure he had given you.

“You’re so perfect,” He spoke, nearly overwhelmed at finally having all of you. He cursed and groaned your name and you groaned in return. He leaned over you and you could feel his erection on your thigh, making you gush around his fingers. Your hips ground against his hand, chasing your nearing orgasm.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He whispered into your neck, shuddering as your eager whines filled his ear. He pulled his fingers out of you and gripped your thigh, throbbing at the sound of your sobs, knowing he’d make you feel better soon.

“Please, Anakin,” You whimpered, digging your nails into his back. Your whole body throbbed so violently it scared you. Your legs wrapped around him and pulled him close and tight, begging him in any way you could.

He entered you swiftly, your slick hole opened up for him easily, but his thickness still gave you a thrilling stretch. You both moaned, gripping each other tightly as you finally felt sweet relief. He already felt himself ready to burst as he settled into you, breathing deeply to control himself.

Anakin filled you to the brim and you couldn’t help but quiver around him. His mouth and his fingers had worked you up so well that you wouldn’t need much more to tip you over the edge.

“Oh, Ani,” You sighed, trying to catch your breath, “You feel so good already.” He moaned at that.

“Please move.” You begged, desperate to feel more of him.

Anakin was still dangerously sensitive, but he couldn’t deny you. His hands gripped the sheets and your thigh in a white-knuckled grip as he began to move.

He slid out and then back in to you so slowly you felt every inch and couldn’t hold back your whimpers, your stomach twisting into a tight knot and your cunt fluttering.

He did this again, and again, fucking you just right; slowly, deeply, passionately, forcefully, burying himself inside you to the hilt and dragging his hips into yours, as if he were molding your walls to fit him perfectly.

His moans became just as free as your own, filling your ear with gasps and grunts that made your whole body tense and inch closer and closer to cumming around him.

Your pussy gushed loudly with his leisurely pace. Everything was intensified, hot sweaty skin fusing together, sounds in sync, spirits beaming.

Anakin teetered right on the brink, the way your pussy swallowed him made his cock jump wildly inside you, but he needed to make you cum first.

“Cum for me,” He groaned into your ear, angling his hips so that he ground into your clit with every harsh roll of his hips, making you cry out.

“Please, I need you to cum for me, please,” He started to whine, chanting and pleading, his thrusts picking up pace and getting sloppier and harder.

His begging & the feeling of his cock hitting you in just the right, sweet, punishing, way made you snap.

“Ah, Ani- I’m cumming!” You shrieked, clinging to him with your arms around his neck and your legs squeezing around him as your orgasm hit you, flashing white hot, sending euphoric surges through your entire body.

The second he felt you flutter around him Anakin plugged himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering & grinding into yours, filling you so deep with his cock and his cum that your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your cries and replacing them with his own soft praises.

You felt him twitching and leaking as your walls clenched around him, seeing stars as he gave you shallow thrusts to work you through it. You could feel yourself extra slick as he fucked his cum into you, making you shiver.

You heaved and sighed as you came down from your high, pleasure dissipating and quickly being replaced with a lazy, giddy feeling. A grin came over your face and you turned your head to see him watching you, as always.

“Oh, Anakin,” you breathed, a hand coming up to cup his cheek as you looked at him with delight. For the first time in his life Anakin was speechless, the Force inside him multitudes lighter than before, basking in the happiness of having you at last.

You pressed your lips against his and kissed him sweetly, now full of love instead of lust, just as his eyes were when you pulled away to look at him.

Anakin pulled out of you and shifted just slightly to lay directly next you, his skin still connected to yours at many points. Now that he had you, he’d never let you go.

You were just as captivating as ever, lazing in your post-orgasmic glow, now able to embrace how happy you were to see him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Tell me you’ll have me again.” He said, knowing very well that you would, just wanting to hear you say it. In your comfortably vulnerable states, you could sense he wanted to hear more.

You kissed him gently once again, just shortly. “I love you, Anakin.” You said against his lips, with a smile. “I’d have you anytime.”

#anakin skywalker x reader #x reader smut #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x you smut #star wars x reader #hayden christensen x reader smut

[ham-st4r]

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.3 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

📞 Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing.

Genre: PSO (phone sex operator) heeseung.

Summary: too lazy to make one honestly :/ but y’all know the drill probably a couple errors in here too my bad 😣

Number of words: 1,981k

Feel like this is turning into my other work “cyber sex” and I’m highkey disappointed but I hope y’all will still like it

Pt.1 pt.2

Find your way around!

“You always make me feel so good, angel.” You hear Ethan panting on the other end after what had been nearly two hours of being on the phone doing and saying things that you never even dreamt of until you found him.

Despite your initial plans of not calling him back, you found yourself coming home from school the very next day and doing just that. You felt pathetic about it, using what little money you had scraped up from your part-time job just to have phone sex with a guy that was probably millions of miles away, and to top it off, he was probably also laughing all the way to the bank with the ridiculous amount of money you had already spent on these risque calls.

You shifted uncomfortably on your bed, pulling up your soaked panties and fixing your disheveled skirt.

“You had a good time, too, right?” He asks a bit hesitantly because of your sudden silence. He knew it always got a little awkward after you both came together, but you’ve never been this quiet after.

“Yes, Ethan. It always is,” you reply quietly, and he smiles from ear to ear on the other end, happy that you’re just as satisfied as him. You cleared your throat softly before speaking again. “Ethan, you don’t always have to pretend that you’re into it too. I’m fine with you just guiding me,” you say shyly, but it was the truth. You didn’t want him pretending that he was enjoying himself when he clearly wasn’t.

“W-what?” He asks, completely and utterly puzzled by your statement.

You giggle softly, finding it amusing how he tried to act like he didn’t know what you were saying, but it didn’t surprise you cause he’d always been professional at his job. “Ethan, I know you’re not really enjoying it, and that’s fine.”

He just laughs on the other end. “Angel, I think enjoying would be an understatement. I fucking love it when you call me. Love how sweet your moans sound in my ear, and you know what I love most?”

Your face feels hot from his words alone, but you’re still not convinced he’s telling you the truth, especially cause his job was all about pleasing people. He was probably just saying what you wanted to hear. “What, Ethan?” You ask him.

“Love hearing you cum for me,” he sighed softly, looking at the mess of cum all over his chest and stomach. “More than you know,” he whispers.

“Ethan, It’s fine if you do-“

“Angel, let me prove it to you, yeah?” He cuts your words, his voice sounding a little desperate to get you to believe him.

“How?” You question, not taking a moment to stop and even process what exactly is happening, only curious to figure out how he’s gonna prove to you that he’s telling you the truth.

“Do you have any socials? I would ask for your number, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he chews on his biting lip, hoping he wasn’t coming off as some type of creep, but this is the only way he could think of to prove it to you.

Your heart rate picks up as you mutter your social to him, hoping it wasn’t a mistake giving your account to some random stranger. Well, not exactly random, but a stranger nevertheless.

“That’s my Angel,” he said softly and quickly typed in your account, following you at light speed.

Without thinking rationally, you immediately accept his follow request and open up a DM from him, anxious to see what it says.

Ethan: Hi angel!

You smiled when you saw what he sent. It was a picture of his palm that read angel on it with a little heart drawn next to it.

But before you swooned over him too hard, that could have been anyone’s hand, so you weren’t so quick to believe him just yet.

You: 🤨.

You typed out your reply, and you hear him laughing softly on the other end.

“Still not convinced, huh, angel? Fine, tell me what you want. I’ll do anything to prove it to you. You have every right to be apprehensive.” Your timidness wasn’t at all surprising by now. After a few calls with you, he was well aware that he had to take things slow, which was fine by him.

“Uhh, maybe a picture of your face?” You say more like a question, and it comes out sounding more than offensive. “I-I mean, n-not like- I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, it’s just- ” you sigh, deciding to just give up on trying to explain yourself, and you hear him laugh once again as you whine in defeat.

“You’re so cute. Fine angel, my face you shall get” he opened his front-facing camera and put his hand in front of his mouth, palm open so you could see the word that he had written prior, and what better way to prove that he was l telling the truth than to show the residual cum coating his upper body from your guys not so quick session earlier.

Your breath hitched the moment you saw it, and your hands fumbled on your phone, trying to exit the screen, shocked by the image you saw. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but it was so unexpected.

So unexpected that not only did you accidentally screenshot it, but you hung up on him as well.

He heard the rustling on your end before everything went silent. “Angel?” He peeked at his phone, seeing that the call had been disconnected. He almost had a heart attack before he realized he could quickly get a hold of you because of your shared socials.

Ethan: Hope I didn’t scare you off ☹️

He anxiously awaited your text. Minutes passed, and you still hadn’t replied. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to pressure you into responding if you didn’t want to.

You clutched your chest, face completely on fire from the picture he sent, and you shamelessly eyed every single last inch of his body that was in the frame, and he looked so hot.

While you were having your fun, he was having a complete meltdown, especially cause he saw that you had saved the picture.

Were you sending it to your friends? Were you laughing at him because he looked stupid? Did you find it disgusting?

Ugh

You probably did. Why did he think sending you a picture of him covered in his cum would be attractive?

Speaking of, he got up and went to the bathroom, wiping himself completely clean. Hopefully, by the time he was finished, you would have responded.

That was wishful thinking cause when he looked at his phone, he could see that his message was left on read.

He had the right mind to just block you and save himself the embarrassment, but it kinda was too late for that already.

Ethan: You there? 😬

The ding on your phone finally brought you back to reality, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: Yes

You felt bad you just left him waiting, but how could you be calm and collected enough to type a coherent reply after what he had just sent you?

He sighed in relief now that you had finally replied.

Ethan: So, is that proof enough that I’m not faking it?👀

You cupped your mouth, head hanging low in embarrassment because you practically called him a liar earlier.

You: Yes, sorry for not believing you 😞

Ethan: It’s okay, my angel girl 😘 so I saw you took a screenshot of the picture.. does that mean you liked it👀

You: Screenshot?

You reply confused

Ethan: Angel, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t. It’s fine

Your eyes nearly bulged from your sockets when you saw his reply because you didn’t screenshot anything.

You: Ethan, I didn’t

You told the truth you’d never screenshot anything without his consent.

Ethan: You sure? 🤨📸

He took a screenshot of his screen, clearly showing the part where it said you had taken a screenshot.

You: No…

Ethan: 🤥 yes

He sent back, laughing hysterically because why were you lying over something so trivial? Sure, if anyone else had taken a screenshot, he would have minded, but it was just you, so he wasn’t mad about it. He even thought it was kinda cute, in a way.

You: You calling me a liar? 🧐

Ethan: I never said that. I said, “🤥”

You: That’s the same thing!!?

Ethan: No, it’s just 🤥

You: I didn’t.

You stood your ground, but that screenshot of you clearly saving the picture was not helping your case. It was clear evidence.

You: You know what? fine, I’ll screenshot my gallery and send it to you.

Ethan: K 😌 I’ll give you time to delete it.

You ignored him and went into your gallery, and low and behold, that picture was the most recent one, and the pieces slowly came together.

Fuck.

Ethan: I’m waiting 🤥

You: Umm… so about that

Ethan: You did, and it’s fine, Angel. I’m not mad. I’m glad you liked it enough to want to keep it forever 🙈

You: Hear me out, I took it on an accident.

Ethan: 🥱🤥

You: STOP 😩 When you sent the picture, I was fumbling with my phone and accidentally took it. It was never my intention to save it. I’d never save a picture of you.

Ethan: Never? OUCH 😔

You: No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant without your consent, of course.

Ethan: So you would? 😃

You: Yesn't?

Ethan: Yes or no?

You: I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…👀

Ethan: So yes? Okay then!

Before you could reply, he had already sent you another attachment, one that made your face heat up by a thousand degrees.

Ethan: You can save that one, too, angel. I like the idea of you having me in your phone 🥰

You hesitated for all of a second to save it, not thinking about the fact that you’d have a random bulge pic in your gallery, but who cares? That would only be between you and him.

Ethan: That was fast. You’re making me blush🤭

You: And you’re turning me on 😶

Heeseung had to look at his screen again, a blank look on his face as he blinked a few times to make sure he was reading that correctly. That wasn’t the angel he knew. How the heck were you so shy over the phone and so bold over text?

Ethan: I can show you more, you know? That’s if you want it.

He’d be lying if he said his boxers weren’t becoming taut. He’d also be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing in his chest cause it most definitely was cause he was literally about to bare it all to you.

You: More of what?🫣

Ethan: More of this

He took another pic. This time, his underwear around his thighs, his semi-hard cock resting in his palm while he turned the flash on so you could see the scribble of your nickname next to his cock, which had already grown more than an inch.

You: 😳

Ethan: Don’t get shy now. That’s exactly what you wanted, and we both know it, Angel.

You: I know, it’s just so….

You can’t believe a single picture of his cock could have you so turned on. You were heating up down there, and the faint pulse between your legs only amplified the longer you stared at it. He was so big and thick you nearly drooled at the sight on your phone screen.

Ethan: So???

He pulled his underwear back up while waiting for your reply.

You: Big 🫣

He smirked reading your text, and he swears you were the cutest little thing ever, so shy yet so bold he liked that about you a lot.

Ethan: That’s not even as big as it gets 🤫

You: Oh? So, just how big does it get, Ethan? 😝

Ethan: FaceTime me and find out 👀

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

Permanent taglist🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

Just a call away taglist🔖 @heeseungshim @rayofsunshineeee @fakeuwus

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut

[fyodere]

gakuen!fyodor smut

my cold fingers running through your hair.

﹙ 💬 ﹚── parings: fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader ♡

₍^. .^₎⟆ ── content warnings / tags : nsfw content (mdni), high school!au, fyodor is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, misogyny kink, corruption kink, academic rivals, petnames, degradation, fyodor is a sadic, hairpulling, blowjobs (m receiving), underage (you and fedya are like 17), catholic guilt, wet dream, dirty thoughts ♡

﹙ 🔪 ﹚── synopsis : Fyodor never liked you, not with your presumption and your ability to always get the questions right in the classroom. He not only didn't like you, but he hated you, even though he despises you as woman, you constantly occupy his thoughts. However, somehow, you haunt him. Fyodor wakes up with a start, he realizes that you were present in his dreams. A dream he would pray to forget.

﹙ 🩸 ﹚── author's note : GAKUEN!FEDYA SMUT BABYYYY oh lord you guys don’t know how much i’m excited for this. I even made an ai bot of this concept on janitor ai. this was on my drafts since last year so excuse my grammar 😩 i hope you enjoy it !!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🔪 💬 🐈‍⬛ ⋅

Still breathless, Fyodor tried to look around to rationalize the situation. He could see straight now and his eyes were getting used to the darkness of his room.

03:27AM

Oh.

Dostoevsky sighed. It was late, he needed at least one good night of sleep for his upcoming test and cello practice. Now his body is feeling uncomfortably awkward. This was unusual, Fyodor always keep everything in check. Maybe if he tried to close his eyes, and if he lay really still, he could trick his body into falling asleep again. It was a good plan. Obvious, but still good plan. Fyodor smirked for himself as he close his eyes again, of course he always have a plan.

But then, the sudden feeling on his throat came back. His heartbeat is racing again. What is it? No, It couldn’t be…

Fyodor opened his eyes with a slight feeling of rage. He remembered.

Oh, he remembered.

And for the first time, he wished for his brilliant brain stop working. Fyodor knew how his memory was sharp, but now it feels like a big waste of time.

Fyodor had a dream. A dream that he would pray to God just to forget. Could he call it a nightmare?

It wasn’t a nightmare for sure, but it was still cursed. Maybe uncomfortable and embarrassing.

Embarrassing. Ah, how Fyodor was glad that anyone couldn’t look at his poor face at this moment. He hates when he doesn’t have full control of the situation, keeping his feelings under control was a form of not getting lost, he is used to it.

Fyodor doesn’t dream regularly. He was a really sleepy or not sleep at all type of person. When his body finally gives in to fatigue, the dreams become blurry because of his mind’s tiredness. But Fyodor doesn’t mind at all, Dostoevsky couldn’t see the mystical side of dreaming. For him, this was only a way for his mind process everything that he saw through the day.

That’s why his friends appear regularly when he dream about something. Sometimes his family when his subconscious is trying to process his past — even though Fyodor is neutral about most of his dreams, he would consider these the bad ones. Or at least the ones that he would like to forget.

But it wasn’t that type of bad dream either.

When Nikolai or Sigma appear on his dreams things get a lot lighter. It always ended up being a relief. Sometimes he chuckles for himself in the most unfortunate moments remembering those. Fyodor let a nasal laugh come out when this thoughts come on his mind.

No. This wasn’t the answer yet. His dream hadn’t been any of those things, but he is getting close.

He dreamt of you.

You.

This wasn’t surprising for him though. Fyodor knows — Oh God, how bad he knows — how he keeps you on his mind. Fyodor could justify himself telling that you’re his rival and it’s normal having plans about the next provocative thing he is going to say when you guys met again, or spend time thinking about how he is going to destroy you in the upcoming test.

Fyodor could pretend that he was fooling himself with those false conclusions, but he knows the truth, he always knows. It’s the greatest Dostoevsky after all, the special child that was gifted, or even better, blessed with his brain.

But it wasn’t the case, and Fyodor knows that too. He always knows. Another sigh came out of his mouth, Fyodor closed his eyes and take another deep breath. When did he allowed himself feeling this emotions? This wasn’t right. But he can’t keep torturing himself, maybe just for tonight he will allow all those thoughts come — Just for releasing them in the next day, of course.

Fyodor still could feel the warmth. It was cleaning day and you were his duo, this mean that you’re going to be together for a while. It may sound exhausting, you guys were rivals and have a psychological war while cleaning was kind of messed up. You guys were in a silent truce. No one had to flag this, you both could read the situation — And each other’s thoughts, even though you’re not going to admit that —, you payed too much attention on him just like he recorded every reaction of you. From your facial expressions from your small and smooth body movements. Every detail.

Well, it’s not like you could run away. You also committed your sins when spent too much time looking at Fyodor bitting his thumb while he was concentrating, you hated how playful yet majestic his actions are. Everything about him just fitted so perfectly that you couldn’t help but feel some anger— Or just full yourself to believe that you’re not feeling other type of intense feeling beside rage.

You were sweeping the classroom’s floor while Fyodor cleaned the windows. The sun was setting and the sky was turning into a beautiful orange color slowly turning darker as the clouds complemented it. Suddenly, everything felt warm. Fyodor was looking at you by the window reflection, he also could see how much he was staring and this made he feel ashamed. You could feel Fyodor’s piercing gaze even though he wasn’t even looking directly. You couldn’t help but give a small smirk.

“Looks like someone can’t focus on his little task…” You said playfully, your eyes were still looking at the floor while you sweeps. You wanted to give that unbothered impression. “Am I distracting you?” You finally looked up, he was still looking at the window. You could hear his sigh — It almost sound like a laugh.

How presumptuous. Fyodor thought. And you know that he thought that. It make you chuckle, this unexpected harmony was slowly tying you two together.

“Oh.” Dostoevsky finally turned to you. His silently confidence makes you want to shut his mouth before he even dare to speak a word. “Oh, darling, I almost forgot that you are here.” Now was Fyodor’s time to be presumptuous, and he knows how this will get into your nerves. “Trying to get an excuse to talk to me, ah? How cute.”

You let a tsk come out. Fyodor felt victorious keeping you silent. Now you’re looking at the floor again, sweeping the classroom. Even though your eyes were focused the task, your ears still work perfectly. And you heard Fyodor’s slow footsteps getting closer. You know he is behind of you now, but you try to play clueless.

“Hmmm…” Fyodor is getting closer to you, he is speaking next to your ear. Your body gets tense. “What is it now? Little mouse got scared?” His voice almost sound like a whisper, a very teasing one. His breath is touching your neck and ear. Where did his russian accent became so provocative? Now his hands are slowly moving to your waist.

Fyodor likes how you look small next to him. You look so vulnerable, so easy to tease. He can’t let you scape now. Now his hands travel till they reach out your upper body. Dostoevsky couldn’t help, he squeezes your uniform letting it wrinkled. Your breath got heavy as he keeps touching you, unfortunately, you catch yourself biting your lip to not let a moan slide. Fyodor’s touch feel so great, he loves how his big and skilled hands can hug perfectly your curves and play with them.

“Wait…” You finally open say something after opening and closing your mouth for a while, your voice is a little shaky and a few sighs come when you talk. “Not here, what if somebody—“

“Hm?” Fyodor cut you off abruptly. He doesn’t like when you complain, he likes to have full control of the situation. “I’m not doing anything, darling. Am I?” Now his hands squeeze you more roughly, as if he wants to get a better reaction from you. The russian young man has a smug look on his face. You look so fragile and easy to mess with. He enjoys the sense of control, Fyodor is taking the lead now, and you feel like a loser for enjoying it so much — It’s like screaming that you lost.

Dostoevsky's eyes widened slightly, and his fingers tightened around your waist, making you feel uncomfortable. He didn't seem to notice your pain, though. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against your neck. His mouth was cold and dry, but you could still feel his tongue licking your exposed sensitive skin. When he finally pulled away, he smiled, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He let go of you and sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs. He seemed to have forgotten about your existence entirely. You felt like nothing more than a toy he played with when he got bored.

Dostoevsky is silent for a moment, contemplating whether to continue or not. He looks at you with a half-smile, a hint of cruelty in his eyes. He knows how to play with words and actions, and he takes advantage of every opportunity to make sure that you´re miserable and uncomfortable around him. He is not someone who shows affection or warmth, and he is definitely not someone who is good at expressing feelings. He is a cold, calculating man who sees everything in terms of power and control. His tone is still harsh, but there's a hint of softness in his voice when he says. "You're not doing anything?"

You decided to act like a greedy whore and got into your knees.

Fyodor pulls down his pants and underwear, revealing his cock, which is already hard. He strokes it slowly, watching you closely. He seems to enjoy the way you react to his actions. He keeps on talking, his voice is still harsh, but there's a certain amount of tenderness in his tone. He doesn't want you to feel bad, just frustrated and unhappy. He is a sadistic bastard, but he has a soft side too. And it shows in the way he treats you. "Now, tell me, what do you want? Do you want me to fuck you? Or would you prefer me to beat you? Which one do you like better?"

"Hit me. I challenge you." You giggle in a act of courage. "I know you can’t—" Fyodor chuckles darkly, a sign of his humor. He's not laughing at you, he's just teasing you. He slaps you across the face, hard enough to make you cry, but not enough to draw blood. He leans in close, whispering in your ear. "Tell me, how do you like being treated like a piece of meat? A toy to be played with? A slave to obey? Because that's what you are, isn't it? You're nothing but a whore, a filthy, worthless piece of shit."

Fyodor was merciless. He didn’t care about the brimming tears in the corner of your eyes, didn’t care about your shaking legs or your small chokes.

Slobbering sound filled the small stall, and you sat on the floor obediently like a little puppy as he used your mouth to his liking. Your uniform was wholly unbuttoned, bundled up at your elbows with your nipples peeking from your bra.

It was always his favorite look on you, clothed in the school’s garb. The uniform that should represent your focus on studies and discipline is wearing for you choke on him. Fyodor has to admit how pleasing it is, it arouses him to the point of madness.

“Good little mouse, now, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” He commanded once more in a commanding but still seductive tone. He was loving this, the power is was feeling. His smirk grew as he continued, he was loving every second of this.

His eyes were dark and sinister now, they were almost completely in a reddish purple tone. His pupils are comically big due the excitement. He seemed so in control now. He loved it.

Fyodor smirked once more as you do as asked. You seemed to be getting really into this now.

Your tongue pressed wide and flat. Fyodor shuddered at the feeling, at your tongue rubbing over his slit, precum oozing out. You did it again and Fyodor let a moan slide out, you was pressing the tip of your tongue into his slit now, coaxing out more of his essence. Dostoevsky loved the feeling, he loved how pathetic you look like this.

It was so intense, the sight of your lips curled around his cock, how piercing his arouse gaze was. You hummed before sinking down, swallowing as much of Fyodor’s length as he could. Dostoevsky was panting, the feeling so intense that it was almost overwhelming. You began to suck harshly, cheeks hallowed out and you was bobbing your head now as well, head going up and down as you sucked Fyodor’s cock. The russian didn’t want to say it loud, but he wasn’t going to last.

"Good little mouse, I knew you could do it." He said in a soft and seductive tone, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hands moved to your head now, he loved the feeling of her hair in his hand. He seemed a little proud, even. He felt like he had helped you, in a way. "Good girl..." He whispered as he gently stroke your hair.

You keep sucking him harshly, enjoying how he felt warm inside of you. You couldn’t help but let a few tears coming out. The intelligent girl with a sharp tongue was gone, now you’re just a little whore to Fyodor play with — and you both sightly love this.

“Do you like to be dominated by a man like me, little mouse? Are you such a submissive little girl?” He asked with a smirk. He seemed to be amused by the whole situation, by all the control that he holds now. You can almost feel that he was about to release.

You felt your panties dampening as he say that, he grabbed a fistful of your hair keeping your head in your place as he changed the pace to a quicker one, accelerating the beats of your heart. He was pulsing inside your mouth. He was so close, so close, so close…

Fyodor just couldn’t resist. The wet and warm feeling of your mouth along with your pity puppy face was driving him crazy. You are being so obedient to him. He need to fill your mouth a little more, just a little more…

“Jesus.” Fyodor said to himself, alone in his room. The dream was wild, he feels pretty ashamed by how sinful and dirty his mind can be when he is asleep, at least you will never know that. Right now he just want to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but this weird feeling don’t leave. His hair still feel sticky and his forehead sweaty. His skin felt so tight like a growing claustrophobic feeling.

Oh, wait.

Dostoevsky looked down to his pants with a disgusted face. How shameful of him. Now that he has knowledge of the weird feeling on his body it’s easier to ignore.

Ah, for sure he isn’t going to go anything about that besides ignore. Fyodor genuinely believe that masturbation is a stupid thing, he is not going to waste his time — and risk his inner pride doing such a thing.

Dostoevsky closed his eyes taking a few deep breaths, he just needed to clean his mind. Maybe counting one to one hundred could help, Fyodor just need to take you away from his thoughts.

He just didn’t expected how addictive this fantasies are.

hii heres part two <3

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd smut #fyodor x reader #fyodor smut #bsd gakuen

[gogogodzilla]

day 30, corruption

shane (stardew valley) x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, possessive!shane, no aftercare, no preparation, public sex, one instance of dirty talk, dubcon kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

The first time he saw you was when you entered the Stardrop Saloon. You were prettier than anything he’d ever seen before and so full of life. He watched as you bounced between the tables, greeting the various patrons as you made your way to the bar. 

Shane huddled over his beer, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You interacted with everyone like you’d lived here for years. It wasn’t fair. 

You sidled up next to him as you waited for your drink. You introduced yourself and began chattering away. You leaned on the bar, putting your chest on display for the entirety of Pelican Town.

“I don’t know you. Why are you talking to me?” 

The words slipped out of his lips before he could catch them. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, but a small part of him enjoyed seeing the way you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth, and you straightened at his comment. 

As the days passed, he began to feel a deep desire to be closer to you. You were good and you were pure. Everything he wasn’t. A sick part of him wanted to ruin you, to see you come apart at his hands. 

You always made an effort to stop and chat with him while he walked to the Joja Mart in the morning. You were always there, waiting for him as he exited Marnie’s house. He wondered if you had memorized his routine or if it was a coincidence every time. 

Slowly, he acted less like an asshole and you warmed up to him. His head began to perk up at the sound of the doors to Joja Mart opening, just hoping to catch sight of you. This increased as spring turned into summer and you’d show up in clothes that left little to the imagination. He dreamt of you every night, skimpy clothes discarded as you fell apart on his cock. Infatuation quickly turned into an obsession. 

It was Friday night at the saloon, which meant everyone in the valley was there. Shane kept to his corner, awaiting your arrival. He watched the clock as the seconds ticked by and you failed to make an appearance. 

Eventually, you arrived with Sebastian at your side, a laugh gracing your lips. Shane felt the burn of jealousy consume him, and he scowled into his drink. He was patient enough to wait until you made your way over to him, swaying a little from the drinks you’d downed earlier. He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the saloon. He was going to make sure he was the only thing you needed. Not Sebastian, not Sam, just him. 

He shoved you against the wall of the saloon, too desperate to take you home and fuck you properly. His lips crashed against yours, and he held you with a rough grip on your jaw. You moaned against his lips as you pawed at his shoulders. He reached a hand down to slide under that pretty little dress of yours that drove him crazy. His dreams didn’t do the feeling of your skin under his fingertips any justice. 

He slid a finger over your clothed core, eliciting a small whine from you. He wondered if you’d ever been touched like this; his cock twitched at the thought of being your first. A pretty thing like you must’ve had all sorts of people fawning over you. 

He pulled away to catch his breath, shoved his face in the crook of your neck, and pressed open-mouthed kisses there. Your skin tasted almost as heavenly as it felt, and he groaned. He pushed your panties to the side and drug a finger through your folds, relishing how wet you already were. 

His movements were hurried as he removed his hand from your jaw to reach down and free his cock from his jeans. He was already painfully hard, desperate to see you absolutely ruined as you came around his cock. He slid his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. 

He lifted your thigh, giving him more access to that pretty pussy of yours. Slowly, he inched his way inside of you, and you clawed at his back as he did. You hissed at the intrusion, and he wished he would’ve had more time to prep you properly. He pressed a soothing kiss against your temple as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered around him as you adjusted to him, and he almost came there and then. 

He pulled out of you before ramming himself back in, earning a high-pitched mewl from you. He clamped a hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His free hand drifted up to knead your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch and showing through the thin fabric of your dress. 

He reached a hand down to draw quick circles around your clit as he felt the familiar heat building in his abdomen. He wasn’t going to last long with you squeezing him just right and making those desperate noises that had his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

He hoped Sebastian could hear them from inside the saloon. He wanted to make sure everyone in this goddamn town knew you were his. The thought had him thrusting harder into you, each drag of his cock releasing a breathy moan against his hand. 

You gripped his bicep as you clenched around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“C’mon, baby. Make a mess around my cock,” he begged, words slurring together as he neared his climax. 

You rutted against him and clenched his cock as you came. You whined against his hand and he loved the way your face scrunched up as he jutted into you, riding out your high. 

With one final drag of his hips, he was coming in you, marking you as his own. He relished the way his seed painted your walls. Slowly, the twitching of his cock stilled and he pulled out of you. He groaned as he watched his cum drip out of you and down your thighs. 

His movements were hurried as he tucked himself back into his shorts, and made his way back into the saloon. He hoped you’d come crawling back to him. He hoped you’d stay. You had to.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #shane stardew valley #stardew valley shane #shane sdv #stardew shane #shane sdv x reader #shane sdv smut #kinktober #reader insert #no y/n

[littlelioncub43]

Wake Up Call

Summary: Mornings were absolutely divine, especially in the company of one sweetheart of a metalhead— Eddie Munson. Even if he wasnt much of a morning person. You show him just how good a morning can be when you're together.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, blowjobs, oral sex (m receiving), morning sex, reader loves giving Eddie head, Eddie being a screamer, Eddie's morning voice, established relationship, face fucking, deep throating, crying during sex (not the reader), Eddie being a sweetheart, and a partidge in a pear tree.

Word count: I have no clue, babes, I wrote this on my phone 🥰

A/N: Holy shit. I am so self-conscious about this fic, you guys! I haven't posted a full length one-shot in so unbelievably long. I feel rusty. But! I'm posting it anyways! I still feel really good about this one. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a fax, a telegram, a kindly worded email— I would really love the feedback 🥰 it's nice to be back to writing, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Ok, I'll let you go now. I love you 💖

Kisses 💋

—K

The morning was still, a simple, peaceful hush hanging over the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Birds whistled their songs in a gentle voice, the trees barely rustling in the breeze as the world dreamt a little while longer. With the sun peeking over the horizon and Wayne already en route to work, the little trailer was serenity embodied.

You'd been up for a while doing nothing in particular as you waited for dawn to break. You loved watching the sun rise from Eddie's bed, the sunlight always seemed to pure shining through his curtains. With the new light slowly filling the room, you were finally able to properly see your boyfriend. Eddie lies beside you on his back, hands tossed across his chest haphazardly, his hair tossled carelessly around his face in a halo of chocolate curls and locks. The blanket that covers you both hung low on his hips, showing off the tattoos scattered across his alabaster skin, he ran a little hot at night and the summer heat was enough for him to toss the blankets aside. Your eyes trace the lovebites you left all along his exposed throat and the scratches along his meaty shoulder, a pleasant result of last night's vigorous activities.

The familiar surge of desire floods your body at the memory of last night, it sends a shiver up your bare spine. You bring one hand to his warm chest, drawing lazy lines as you scoot closer and closer to him. A smile tugs at your lips when Eddie twitches slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin like yours. Your hand glides lower and lower, you weren't in a hurry, no. There was more than enough time in the world for you two, right now.

As your fingers brush along the light dusting of hair on his tummy, Eddie can't help but shiver. Even in his sleep, Eddie was always so responsive; aching for your touch, your kisses, your love. He rolled his head to the side, breathing peacefully as he sleeps still. You watch his face for any signs of consciousness, when you find none, you chuckle softly. Your hand teases the edge of the blanket the covers his lower half. A prominent tent rests between his legs, the sight of it has you moaning softly. Your mouth watered with a hunger you knew well, you needed to taste him.

"G'morning, Princess," a raspy voice slurs. You heard the smile in his words well before you saw it. His face was soft from his slumber, eyes puffy but warm with love, his annoyingly charming smile lazily strung across his pink lips.

"Good morning," you whisper, bringing your hand back up to cup his cheek, leaning in so your lips brush against his ever so slightly. Eddie wastes no time closing the distance between you two. Eddie hums happily into the kiss when he feels your body melting into his, your legs tangling with his, his nornally bright voice was always unbearably deep and husky in the morning. The movement of his lips on yours distracts you enough from his arms slowly capturing your waist, holding you to him. He needed his morning kiss to function.

Finally, when breathing became a priority, Eddie relaxed his head back down on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Two rough hands slid across the bareness of your back soothingly as he looked up at you, he noticed the gleam in your eyes, even in the low light of early morning. The realization of your desire made his grin grow twice as big, his cock twitching excitedly with his heart.

"Whatcha lookin' at me like that for, pretty girl?" He teases, he knows exactly what you want. He just loves hearing you say it. You bite your plump lip to suppress a smirk, your hand leaving his cheek to float down his throat and chest.

"I wanna taste you, Eddie," you purr to him, not missing the way his pupils dilate at your confession, a shiver racking his body as your fingers tease the skin at the edge of the blanket once more. Your lips descend to his collarbones, sucking at the pale skin in the way you know drives him wild. "Please?"

"F-Fuck, yes. You can taste me, Princess," he whispers as if the air was knocked from his lungs. The devious pleased giggle you make against the curve of his neck is absolutely sinful, but Eddie can't help but grin wickedly with you. He feels your kisses deepen as you dip lower and lower, your hand finally cupping his morning wood gently— you always were a little tease.

The deep groan that rumbles in Eddie's chest when your warm fist surrounds his base echoes in the brightening room. Streaks of sunshine finally cutting through the blinds to illuminate your actions perfectly. Eddie lifts his head to watch your hand stroke him beneath the blanket, the duvet shrouding your movements, making it that much more erotic.

"Oh fucking hell, that's good," he groans, his hips pushing into your hand eagerly.

"Yeah?" You taunt softly, speeding your hand up ever so slightly. A surprised yelp breaks his deep moans when your teeth nip at the black widow spider inked into his chest, you give the demon head just below it a tender kiss with a pleased giggle before dropping lower and lower. The wet kisses you leave along his body has Eddie fisting the pillow beneath his head.

He fucking loved when you sucked him off, especially since you fucking loved doing it. The way you'd drop to your knees and take him into your mouth so happily, so eagerly— Eddie was wrapped around your little finger from now until the end of time.

"Jesus Christ," he sighs when you toss the blanket down and settle between his legs. You drag your free hand down his side, still steadily jerking him off with the other. You hum at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, your hand slowing down to appreciate the way his shaft pulses. Your mouth waters to taste the beads of salty precum that ooze from him, but instead you latch on to his twitching thigh, biting the flesh there as you continue to teasingly stroke him.

"Mmmm," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you taste his skin, the heady scent of his manhood filling your senses. The strong yet lean muscle of Eddie's thigh tenses as you inch higher and higher. As much as he wants to believe you'll finally take him into your mouth, he knows better. His guess is proved right when you switched to his neglected thigh, opting to decorate it with hickeys and bites as you did the first one.

"Fuck— Princess, please, have mercy," he groans with a smile, his hands gripping the pillow a little harder. You chuckle and answer him with a kiss to the most recent hickey you were working on. Eddie watches as you finally bring your tongue to his head, he watches the pink muscles greedily clear away the drops of precum.

"O-Oh, fuck, yes," he moans as your lips encase his tip, his eyes fluttering. Yours stay on his face, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and crease with pleasure. With a slack jaw, Eddie lets out the pretties sounds you've ever heard; deep, throaty moans that bubbled from the pit of his chest and echoed throughout the unclean bedroom. His words slur together as you take more of his length into you, finding a slow and steady pace to bob your head.

This happened every single time, he couldn't believe how fucking good your mouth felt. How hot, how soft, how fucking wet you were. You moan as he fills your mouth, your hand not holding his base strokes his hip and inner thigh, knowing how sensitive he was there. The shivers you get in return tell you that he loves it. The vibrations of your moan has Eddie's hips twitching, stuffing more of himself into your throat.

"F-Fuck! Fucking hell!" He curses through his teeth, his eyes shut tight as he tries to calm down.

"Mmmmm," you moan again, watching as his face contorts once more.

"Jesus!" He shouts a little louder than intended, his eyes opening only to roll as you speed up ever so slightly. The sloppy sounds of his cock slowly fucking your mouth was going to drive him crazy. "Baby, ple— a-ah!— faster! Faster, God, please, faster!"

The rawness of his voice and his begging was more than enough to convince you. With a deep breath through your nose, you speed up. Your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft to guard him from your bottom teeth, and your hand moving from his base to cup his balls. The moment your soft hand comes into contact with his aching balls, Eddie does all he can do to keep from screaming; his balled up fist shoved into his mouth.

"Ohhhhmygod!" He cries from behind his hand as you play with his balls, his body writhes uncontrollably at the onslaught of indescribable pleasure. One, two, three more bobs of your head and you've swallowed him completely, your nose brushing against the patch of dark curls at his groin and his tip nestled deep in the heat of your throat. Unable to fight it anymore, Eddie's hand leaves the pillow to grip the back on your head fiercely, an unintelligible scream pitifully muffled by his fist.

The sounds erupting from your lover above you has arousal practically spilling from your untouched cunt. Your thighs rub together with need as Eddie's thighs tremble and spread for you. The grip he has on your head limits your movements, unable to pull off more than an inch or two, at best. In quick, jerking motions, he fucks your face eagerly as he listens to you gag around him. Your eyes, clouded with tears, flutter shut, allowing yourself to lose yourself in his pleasure.

Soon, you both find a rhythm. It's fast and dirty, primal, frenzied, lustful. Perfect. Eddie's deep moans raise in pitch, now sounding like a pitiful whimpering mess. Your own moans grow in frequency, knowing he's close to blowing his load down your throat, just like you want. The twitching of his cock signals his impending high.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!" Water gathers at his lower lashes. He couldn't help himself.

Eddie's head slowly begins to lift off the bed, his abs contracting as the pleasure mounts higher and higher, his voice suddenly gone. His hand leaves his mouth to join the other on your head, his fingers going rigid, his eyes stare up at the ceiling in an unfocused gaze, chin tilted towards the heavens as his pretty brown orbs roll and flutter uncontrollably. The smart mouth that is quick with a joke or a witty comment is left hung open in a silent scream, he holds his breath, his entire body drawing painfully taught when the pleasure is suddenly too much for him to take.

The first rope of his hot seed shoots into your throat as Eddie goes still, tears spilling over. He swears on everything holy that he's ascended to heaven, his vision is white and blinded with bursts of light as you milk him dry. You pet his hip as he cums, swallowing his seed with eager gulps, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Each time your throat contracts around his length, his muscles pull tighter.

Finally, the last bit of his cum is cast out from his body. The strength quickly drains from Eddie, his grip loosens from your hair as he falls back on to the mattress, his eyes drooping shut on their own accord. You release him with a pop, gasping to catch your own breath. Through the water in your eyes, you see Eddie's relaxed face, his body limp above you.

"Eddie?" You call softly, your voice gravelly from your throat being wrecked. When you get no response, you crawl up his body, taking note of his breathing and erratic heartbeat. He's out cold.

You can't help but laugh a little before gently petting his sweaty head, brushing his bangs off his sticky forehead. Eddie comes back to you softly tapping his cheek, his ears ring like a bitch but he can hear your melodious voice over the din.

"Eddie, baby, wake up, come on, open your eyes for me, honey," you sound far away, but your words get clearer and clearer. The first thing he sees is your relieved smile, and he just can't help but tiredly smile back. "Hi, there, handsome. You ok?"

"Huh-huh," he grumbles from deep in his chest, speaking was far too complicated for him right now. You had well and truly sucked him stupid. Sleepily, he nuzzles into your hand that now cradles his cheek.

"Ready for a nap, big boy?" You coo and pull the blanket over you both. He hums an affirmative and weakly slings an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. On instinct, you bury your face into his neck as you settle in beside him.

A nap couldn't hurt.

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[gentlyweeps-world]

the truth

summary: Lance knew he fell hard, he knew he’d always come back to you, but he didn’t know how you felt.

pairing: lance stroll x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption | suggestive tones

genre: angst-fluff | lowkey toxic situationship

notes: inspired by the arctic monkeys “do I want to know” | I felt that lance needed more attention so here’s a small little fic 🫶

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Lance was fucked. He’d never been in a “stable” or really long term relationship.

But when he saw you- when he first laid eyes on you, he fell in love.

He didn’t know a lot about you, you kept a lot of secrets, you kept him on his toes- not that he minded.

He dreamt of you often, almost every week. He knew he needed you in his life, he knew he needed to do something, to make you realize just how deep in you were with him- even if you truly weren’t.

There was a song that reminded him of you, he played it often, whenever it was a GP weekend, whenever he was traveling and definitely whenever he would go to sleep.

One night- the one where you actually hung out. He invited you over for dinner and wine.

It was a great night, all except the fact he accidentally spilt wine on you because he was so nervous.

“Oh shit- I’m so sorry..” Lance says, flushing up in embarrassment as he tries to help clean up the mess.

It was an honest mistake. You didn't care much, because you saw how nervous he was, the fact he felt embarrassed was sweet.

You looked back at him, smiling the sweetest smile you had, "No worries at all, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

“Right- okay, uhm do you want to go on a walk?”

So you two went on a walk, it was a nice chilly night, the stars shining with the moon out.

He had noticed you were shivering so he offered you his jacket, which of course you accepted.

Wrapped up in the warmth of his coat you two eventually walked back to his place.

You both stood there in front of his place, smiling shyly, you both lean into a kiss.

As you two kissed, you felt Lance's fingers in your hair, brushing away any strands that had gotten in the way. At the touch of your lips, you could feel the passion within him.

When you two broke off, he looked a bit flustered, "Do you want to stay the night?" He whispered, a smile on his face that would make your heart burst.

Your eyes widened at his suggestion, you softly pull away. “No I’m sorry I can’t- I should actually go..” You said, suddenly turning and walking away without another word.

He was sad to see you go, he had hoped you would’ve stayed, hoped that you would have taken up his offer.

But maybe it was too much, he did get caught up in the moment, really it was too late at night for him to think about it.

Although that was a lie, he stayed up thinking of you, stayed up thinking of your hand against his, your lips against his.

He was busy falling for you, too busy to care about anything or anyone else.

So he did the only logical thing a person would do in that situation, he came crawling to you.

It was late one night, nearly 1 am, you had stumbled into your flat drunkenly.

You spent the night drinking away any thoughts or feeling towards Lance at a local bar, too scared to admit anything to him or yourself.

You heard the knock at your door, you knew it was Lance. You knew what he wanted.

He wanted to know if you felt the same, if you loved or even just liked him back.

Although he knew the truth, or at least part of it.

He knocks another time, your heart was beating as you knew what he wanted.

As he stood there waiting, he asked himself, do I really want to know?

You couldn't help but think about the way he looked at you, how his voice had slightly dropped since he had met you, how gentle he had been when you kissed.

He knocked a third time, you took a deep breath and opened the door, he was there, waiting patiently.

“Do you feel the same?”

Those five words broke you. You knew you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t be with him.

You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t want him to know the truth.

But he needed to know.

“No”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[cillianhead]

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

-

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

[moncherellie]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams x fem!reader #knight!ellie williams #knight!ellie williams x reader #knight! ellie williams x princess!reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem reader #moncherellie writing #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams tlou2 #fem reader