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bruisedboys · 1 year

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can I request the first time shy!reader spends the night at eddie’s? maybe she falls asleep during movie night and he just doesn’t have the heart to wake her up? lots of snuggles ensue?!

ohmygosh thank you so much for this adorable req I love u so much. hope this is what u wanted angel!

shy!fem!reader 1.3k words

Eddie comes back from the bathroom and into the living room, only to stop dead in the doorway.

You’ve fallen asleep. On his couch. Well, technically his and Wayne’s, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re fast asleep and you look so lovely and peaceful and Eddie actually had to grab the doorframe to stop himself from falling over.

To be trusted so much that you’ve allowed yourself to fall asleep at his place feels like a big step to Eddie. You’re a shy girl, always cautious, overly polite. Eddie remembers the first time you’d been over to his trailer, you were so quiet, so scared of doing or saying something wrong.

And now look at you.

Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He practically skips the rest of the way to the couch, desperate to be close to you again, a newfound fondness for you burning in his chest that can only be cured by sitting as close as humanly possible to you. He sits down in the space he’d left, his thigh pressed to yours. Your body has tipped away from him, your head resting on a stack of cushions balanced on the arm of the couch.

The credits of the movie you’d been watching with him play on, but Eddie’s too busy looking at you, drinking up every inch of you. Your face, squished into the cushion, the TV light painting you green and red and blue. Your t-shirt sleeve riding up your shoulder. Eddie imagines your skin is as warm and soft as it looks. He longs to touch you and has an excuse when the movie ends. He knows you’ll want to be woken up.

His hand finds your shoulder and his fingers slip beneath your sleeve.

“Y/N, sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes you gently, his thumb pressed to your shoulder. “Wake up.”

It doesn’t take much for you to wake. Soon you’re blinking awake slowly, tearing your tired eyes apart, and it’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve done ever. Eddie feels so much fondness for you it actually hurts.

“Hey,” he says gently. He shuffles closer so he can get his torso in front of yours, hoping to block the TV lights that he’ll know will be blinding for you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep.”

You blink at him. “I did?” You ask, all raspy and sleepy.

Eddie chuckles and resists the urge to kiss you all over your cute face. “Yeah, you did. Was I boring you?”

Your expression goes from sleepy to mortified so quickly it’s alarming.

“No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I—“

Eddie’s laugh drowns out the rest of your words, and you stop fretting when you realise he’s teasing.

“I’m messing with you, sweet girl.” He slides his hand up to your collar and presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth. “You must’ve been tired, huh?”

A yawn takes over your features right on queue. Your eyes scrunch up and your mouth opens wide and Eddie can’t stop smiling. You’re so cute.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Eddie asks, his hand still pressed to your face. He’s secretly hoping you’ll say no. He’d like you to stay here forever, thank you very much. “Or … you could stay the night here? Only if you want, of course.”

You blink up at Eddie owlishly. He’s never asked you to stay the night. Never suggested it, because he’s afraid of scaring you off. He’s afraid now, waiting for your answer, that you’ll run away and never come back. But you smile. You smile, and his heart does a backflip.

“Um. Okay,” you say, quiet and unsure but that sweet smile stays put. “I think I’ll stay, if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie melts like a popsicle. He brings his other hand to your jaw and cups your pretty, sleepy face.

“Of course it’s okay, angel,” he says, soft and earnest all at once. His chest feels tight. “You can stay whenever you like, you know.”

Your smile grows. Eddie’s heart aches tenfold. “I know.”

Eddie nods. He’s feeling so much for you in this moment that it’s hard to do anything, let alone speak. Instead he pulls away from you, stands up and holds his hand out. You take it unabashedly.

“Come on then,” he says, finally finding his words as he pulls you up to stand. “I’ll find you some pyjamas, hm?”

Ten minutes later Eddie comes back from the shower and finds you in his bed, dressed in a pair of his red and black checkered pyjama pants and one of his shirts. Your eyes are half closed.

You look so lovely that Eddie feels, for the second time tonight, like he’s been punched in the stomach. His breath hitches and his heart goes haywire.

“Hi,” he says softly, dropping the towel he’d been scrubbing his hair with over the back of his desk chair. “You okay?”

You nod. “M’okay,” you mumble quietly. “Just tired.”

Eddie rounds his bed til he’s on the side you’re on, kneeling next to the bed so he can take your bicep in his hand, his palm kneading at the soft muscle. You look seconds away from falling asleep.

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Then, to you, “Do you want me to sleep on the couch? ‘Cos I will, if you’re not comfortable with us both sleeping in the bed.”

You wrench your eyes open and quit looking tired to instead look confused and mildly put out.

“What?” You ask, exhaustion tugging at your words and making them sluggish and slurred. “No, don’t sleep on the couch.”

Eddie grins like mad. He squeezes your bicep, his fingers pushing beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “You want me to sleep in the bed? With you?”

You shut you eyes again and nod into your pillow. Eddie can’t stop smiling.

“Okay, then.”

He gives your arm one last squeeze and then leaps up to switch the light off. The room gets swallowed by darkness. Eddie can just make out your figure where you’re lying in his bed, the bump of your hip, the curve of your legs.

He slides into bed next to you and it feels like it’s never felt before. Even though it’s his same, regular old bed that he sleeps in every night, nothing about this is regular. Nothing about this doesn’t make his heart race and his skin tingle and his stomach ache with fondness sweet as sugar.

He shuffles closer to you and his arm touches your arm.

“Are you okay?” He asks you. You’re awfully quiet. Well, quieter than usual. He knows it’s because you’re tired, and maybe because this whole thing is probably making you about as nervous as it’s making him, if not more.

You don’t answer but you do press your arm further into Eddie’s. He curls his pinky around yours in the dark.

“Are you nervous?” He whispers, staring at the dark roof, feeling quite a bit nervous himself.

He feels rather than hears you rolling over, and when he tears his eyes away from the roof to look at you, he sees you’ve rolled onto your side to look at him.

“A bit,” you whisper back. Your pinky hooks tighter around his.

“Me too,” Eddie admits. “I’ve never had a girl sleep over before.”

You make a sound that Eddie thinks is a tired, quiet laugh. He can hear your smile when you say, “Really?”

Eddie nods though you probably can’t see him. He slides closer and takes your hand, his fingers lacing through yours. You’re so close you could lay your head on his chest if you wanted. He hopes you will eventually.

“Yeah, really,” he says. He dips his head to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep now, okay?”

You hum something incoherent. You’re asleep within the next minute, your head lolling onto Eddie’s shoulder within the next two.

Eddie lies awake for far longer, wondering how in the world he got this damn lucky.

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ellemj · 5 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read part 1, part 2, or part 3 yet, you should probably head that way first.**

Summary: Round two doesn't go quite as either of you expected.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, near somnophilia, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to let me know in the comments if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I wish I could share the filthy mental image that I have for paragraph 10 of this, but sadly, it doesn't exist. How are we feeling here guys? Also, I'm fckin loving responding to you guys. I didn't expect to be so into it and it's just making me wanna take requests after this even more.

You awake suddenly, your eyes fluttering open and straining to adjust to the darkness around you. You’re on your right side, and as your eyes fully adjust, you realize that you’re lying inches away from none other than Bucky fucking Barnes. You’re already feeling overly feverish, with a flu-like body ache wracking your frame, and a pounding headache behind your eyes, but looking at him and remembering what you did earlier tonight adds a wave of nausea to the mix. How the fuck did the two of you let it get that far? You’re acutely aware of how exposed you are, with both of you having fallen asleep on top of the covers, there isn’t a blanket or anything that you can pull over yourself. You roll over as quietly as possible, moving to sit on the side of the bed and then reaching down to the floor and picking up your discarded t-shirt. You pull it over your head before checking your phone on the bedside table. 11:31pm. You’re three and a half hours in now. The pain that Bucky so kindly relieved for you earlier has returned, but it's rapidly worsening. You steal a glance at him over your shoulder. You’ve never seen him sleep before. Any overnight mission you’ve ever been on either involved one of the two of you being on night watch or, luckily, separate bedrooms. He looks peaceful like this, with his signature scowl missing and a serene expression gracing his features. You wonder if he looks like this every night, or only after sex. Something about the thought of him having sex any night other than tonight leaves an unfamiliar pang in your chest. However, you blindly chalk that pang up to being some random side effect caused by the chemical that’s working hard within you.

As you sit there on the side of the bed, the darkness enveloping you like a hug from a close friend, you feel it. That deep, unrelenting need to be touched again, to be fucked until you’re so full that the pain you feel right now melts away as if it never existed in the first place. You’re stronger than this. Just lay back down and go to sleep. Maybe if you dream about sex, your mind can trick your body into thinking it’s gotten what it needs and you can get through this without splintering your partnership any further. You can do this. Laying back on the bed as quietly and gently as humanly possible, you decide within yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t need his hands traveling along your searing skin, simultaneously cooling you down and making you feel impossibly hotter. You don’t need his dirty words filling the space between you and dancing around your mind until all you can think about is letting him take everything from you. And you most definitely don’t need his cock. His cock. Fuck, why did you let that into your head? Now all you can think about is the way he reached so deep inside of you, his girthy length stretching you enough that for a moment, the pain of his cock entering you for the first time was the only pain you felt in your entire body. You catch yourself tilting your head to the side to look at him again. He must’ve gotten up at some point while you were asleep to put his boxers back on, and honestly, fuck him for that. You’re left staring at his abs, at the way they rise up and drop back down so subtly with every breath he takes. Your eyes travel down his vibranium arm. You always liked his arm. Hell, you liked it even when it was silver with that damn red star. But now that it’s black and gold, built for strength and stealth, it looks like it belongs on him. Biting your bottom lip, you let your hand run up the front of your t-shirt, your fingertips deftly sliding beneath the collar of it and pulling his dog tags out so they’re no longer against your skin. You run your finger over the raised letters that spell out his name, wondering how many times he’s done the exact same thing himself. It’s almost calming. Or at least it would be if you weren’t currently replaying the moment that he pulled you in by those same dog tags earlier and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight.

A soft sigh leaves your lips and you know your resolve is crumbling, you know you’re seconds away from doing something you really shouldn’t do. Your thumb traces over the top inscription once more, James B Barnes. Fuck it. You didn’t have a plan when you threw your rational mind out the window, but suddenly you find yourself moving to straddle Bucky on the bed. As soon as your left leg crosses his lap and your drenched pussy is hovering inches above his clothed cock, he begins to stir, a low, pained groan rumbling past his lips. He needs this too, you’re sure of it, and that’s what encourages you to seat yourself on his lap. His eyes fly open now and he looks first at where your bodies are making contact, and then straight up at your flushed face. He’s died and gone to heaven. That’s what’s happened. He’s positive. When he sees you on top of him, wearing only a t-shirt and his dog tags, he has to wonder how yesterday’s mission went so unbelievably right that he ended up here. His hands are quick to find your hips, pushing your t-shirt up a little so he can touch your skin directly. The touch immediately soothes some of your bodily aching and you lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands resting on the bed, on either side of his head. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to think straight while he keeps his eyes trained on the little silver shapes dangling from your neck right in front of him.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” Bucky taunts after a few seconds of composing himself beneath you, a smirk playing on his lips. Even barely awake and caught off guard, he’s an ass. You shake your head and grind yourself down on his already hard cock, the friction making you fight back a moan that’s threatening to rise from your throat. He lets out a groan of pleasure now, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively and his eyes closing.

“Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Don’t act like you don’t need this too.” You retort, continuing your actions with your hips as you lower yourself down until your face is only an inch away from his. You let the tip of your nose brush against his and he opens his eyes, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “Be honest with me, you offered to do this as some kind of heroic act, but you secretly wanted this.” Bucky swallows audibly and you’re starting to get high off of the effect you have on him. Technically, it’s the effect that the chemical is having on him but you let yourself pretend for a moment that it’s all you. As your breath fans across his lips, he feels an unwelcome anger spreading through him. Anger stemming from the fact that you’d tease your lips in front of him like this, dangle something so tempting right in front of his face yet refuse to indulge him.

“Think what you want.” He huffs, his grip on your hips loosening and throwing you off guard momentarily. You freeze on top of him, backing away from his face a bit and trying to gauge his mood. He’s obviously horny enough to fuck, as evidenced by the hard-on that’s currently pressing against your soaked panties. Is he just trying to act like he doesn’t want it because you accused him of wanting it? God, the pounding headache intensifies and you scrunch your eyes shut. You really need to stop thinking.

“What’s got you so pissy?” You ask, sitting back fully on his lap and rubbing your temples with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand in that way that always worries Bucky in the field. You only do it when you’re struggling to make a decision or when you’re severely bothered by something, like bothered to the point of putting a bullet in some shithead’s thigh just to get them to talk. He wasn’t planning to say anything about it, truly. His plan was to fuck you until the only thing you can possibly do is moan his name. But to hell with it. He brings it up anyway.

“You took my cock so well tonight…” His voice is full of lust and has a teasing air to it, setting your nerves on fire. The way he praises you has your thighs clenching at his sides. “But you didn’t say my name one. Fucking. Time.” Ah, there it is. That’s what’s got him so pissy. You’re learning that he has a possessive streak, which isn’t your problem at all considering you’re not someone he can possess. He can get some other girl to moan his name, but you won’t be doing it.

“You didn’t give me any reason to.” You snap back. You’re lying. You know it and he knows it. He fucked you until you saw stars and made him promise not to pull out of you. His name was on the tip of your tongue more than once, but you restrained yourself for reasons he’ll never understand.

“Fine. If that’s the story you want to go with, that I didn’t do shit for you earlier, you can get yourself off.” He says smugly, that damn smirk appearing again as he sits up suddenly, pushing you off of him. You land on the bed next to him as he quickly shoves his boxers down his legs, tossing them on the floor and laying back once again. This time, that little shit lays back and places his hands behind his head in the most relaxed position you’ve ever seen him in. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, where it’s fully erect over his lower stomach and leaking clear drops of precum. Shit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it a little too hard, nearly drawing blood. You arch a brow at him, wondering why he stripped if he’s going to make you get yourself off. Just like he does in the field, he reads your mind from that one look. “You’re going to get yourself off on my cock…or not at all.”

You can’t say that you’re ashamed at how fast you mounted him and seated yourself down on his cock. You can’t even say that you despised him for making you put on a show for him like that. You lied to him and pretended like he didn’t give you the best sex of your life only an hour ago, so he chose this as your punishment. A punishment that you accepted and used to your advantage, riding the fuck out of his thick cock just like he told you to. At some point, your hands were braced on his chest as you bounced your ass up and down, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time you slid back down. This drew sounds from you that could turn any nightmare of his into a wet dream. Once you were right on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night, he was sure you were going to moan his name. Your head was tilted back, showing off all of that open kissable space along the column of your throat with his silver chain still draped around it, and he swears he saw his name flashing behind your closed eyelids. But you moaned out a simple fuck instead, and then you continued riding him until you both came, hard. For the second time tonight, as he empties his cock into your pretty little cunt, you both feel like you’re floating away on a pain-free cloud of euphoria. He glances over your shoulder a few minutes later when he sees you checking the time on your phone. 12:10 am. If his math is right, he may have as little as four hours left to get you to moan his fucking name.

Little does he know, that as you drift off to sleep next to him, under the covers this time, all you can think about is fully letting yourself go and moaning his name out while he fucks you in every position known to mankind.

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel

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cherry-leclerc · 7 months

Text

about you ☆ cl16

genre: yearning, humor, pwp (smuttt, perhaps a bit dirtier than I intended, yikes), glimpse of fluff!

word count: 5.8k

Where Charles reminisces on his first love, where for a while, you were all his. First loves are portrayed as something you never want to forget or in this case, forgive. And it all started with a painting.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, doggy style, spit, squirting, teary eyes, teasing, polaroids (ha!), slightly mean/teasing charles

inspired by this and this !

when inspo hits it hitsss. wrote a small one as a little treat, so grab your popcorn babyyy! enjoy! :)

“What about you?”

The group had settled into quite a comfortable spot, gossiping about first loves, if you really care about that type of thing, and spilling secrets. Seeing as it was late November everyone either had a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, courtesy of Lily.

“I don’t really like to talk about her anymore.” The room grows silent as Charles tries to play off the sudden shift. At times like these he almost envied the cold. The cold never once got questioned of why it was like that, but he knew the same wouldn’t go for him.

“Uh uh,” Daniel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “We all went around sharing, it's only protocol you do the same.”

If anyone felt Charles grow uncomfortable, they chose to ignore it. He can’t be too upset, before this he was enjoying his time, up until the attention turned to him. If it were anything else, he’d give it a go, but he knows too well that he can’t get out of this one.

“I’ll make it easier for you,” Lewis tries to ease the Monegasque. “How did you meet her?”

He feels quite sad that it takes him a while to remember, but eventually he recalls it all.

“I met her in LA.”

Staring up at the blazing sun you spill out dirty curses. You had been frolicking in the shops trying to find a decent vegan restaurant for your boss to enjoy. Digging out a hair tie from your tote bag has you even more irritated than you ever thought possible.

Stepping inside a small art gallery, you decide to refuge there for a bit. The cool AC instantly has you shutting your eyes in pleasure.

“How much for this piece?”

You pop an eye open before deciding not to spare a glance. “I don’t work here.”

The man lets out an awkward cough before excusing himself. “Sorry, I just thought…my mistake.” Feeling bad you turn your head.

“It’s alright, I should apologize as well.” Catching a first glimpse makes you hate yourself just a tiny bit for acting like a bossy LA girl. Didn’t help that he also had the nicest eyes humanly possible.

“I’m Charles.”

Mutually, you both spend some time walking around. He lets you know he’s only visiting as he is a foreigner. You let out a small sigh. “Lucky you didn’t grow up in LA. Extremely tiring, I can tell you that much.”

“Tiring how?” He glances at you for a split second before looking at the nearest canvas. You hum.

“You eventually grow tired of being someone you’re not.”

The stranger seems to feel bad enough based on his facial expression, but he understood what you were saying. A single ring expands into the air as you bite down on your lip.

“Shit, my boss.” Completely enthralled into your conversation time had completely slipped your mind. “I have to get going, but it was nice to meet you…”

“Charles,” he reminds you as you share an embarrassed nod. Something inside of him tells him to ask for your number, though it really wouldn’t be wise enough to do, he’s not even from here or a regular visitor. It wouldn’t make sense.

“...264,” you finish telling him as he quickly types in your phone number.

“Great. I’ll see you later for dinner.”

“Since when do you visit LA?” Pierre’s voice is filled with betrayal. Charles rolls his eyes at his friend. “Mate, you know I’ve always wanted to go there for Nobu!”

“Yeah, well no need to worry I’ll leave LA all to you now.” The definite confirmation in Charles’ voice has everyone wondering how bad things could have gotten between their friend and the unnamed girl he had once been hung up on, though he would never admit it.

“How did the dinner go?” Alex curiously questions, trying to dig in deeper. He knew he wanted to get the best version since Lily had practically begged him to fill her in on the drive back home.

“It was the best date I’ve ever had.”

“Your reservation doesn’t exist.” The waiter was starting to grow annoyed at the 25 year old who insisted he had called on the phone. I can look for my own name on the list, Charles offers though the man quickly raises his hand. “I’m sorry, but the restaurant has grown full. You can try again tomorrow.”

Sitting down on the sidewalk he tries to think of ways to break the news to you. All of them had him cringing. A yellow cab pulls up in front of him and you step out smelling like a garden in Italy.

“Charles!” you exclaim as you run clumsily with heels undone. Finishing up your shift you had quickly dashed home to try to get here one time. Being a few minutes late isn’t all that bad.

“Hey…” He rises up as you’re sitting down. Sheepishly he sits back down once again. “So you might hate me…”

“Why’s that?” you hum as your clip on your heels. Once you are done you stare up at him. Your eyes have him tongue tied as he tries to remember the last time he’s felt like this. Seeing you dressed so pretty makes him upset and he knows he can’t mess this up with admitting his mistake.

“Someone got our table.” Frowning you peek over at the hostess who is taking in more names and clients. “Yeah they just swooped in and stole it.”

“No way!” Feistiness paints your eyes as you stand up, hands on your waist. He realizes he doesn’t completely hate this look on you. Clearing his throat he stands as he pats his hands against his pants.

“Don’t worry though I’m sure we can find some place else.”

“That’s not fair though,” you point out as you start to make your way over. His eyes grow wide as he runs alongside you.

“It’s okay! I swear I’ll find you an even better restaurant where you can dine and display your pretty dress!” You look beautiful by the way, he adds and you quickly turn to him with a smile and blush painting your cheeks.

“I’m sure you could but still, we should say something.” He doesn’t have a chance to stop you as you reach the hostess.

“Hi,” you chirp as you grin kindly. The older man turned his attention with a bored expression.

“How can I help you?”

“Well, um, my date,” you turn and point at Charles who stands there with a blank stare. “He made a reservation for two and it seems you gave our table away.” The man, John, shakes his head.

“You must be mistaken - or have been lied to - but your table wasn’t given away because your date here never made a reservation, as I already informed him.” You both turn your attention to the Monegasque as he begins his act.

“Uhhh…”

Shaking your head you face John once again. “If he told me he made a reservation then he made a reservation.” Raising an eyebrow you stare back at him expectantly.

“As I already told you, no he didn’t.”

Growing more nervous Charles tries to convince you to let it go. I just looked it up and there’s a better restaurant just 2 hours away! “No,” you finalize as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “We are getting our table back.”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to keep waiting because we are most definitely not going to serve you today.” You roll your eyes.

“Thank you, John.” Making your way over you sit on a bench for waiting guests, Charles follows. “Which table did you reserve?”

“29.” Narrowing your eyes over at John you nod. “Alright. So here’s what we’re gonna do…”

“Are you sure about this?” He lifts you up toward an open window as you grab on, trying to stay secure.

“Just…yes. Just don’t drop me!” His hands placed on your body have him hard and he tries to play it off. This would not make him look good on a first date.

“Okay let me go now!” You screech as you climb over. He watches as you carefully place your Dior covered feet onto the ground. Clapping you shoot a thumbs up on your side of the glass. “Now it’s your turn.”

Rolling up his sleeves he slips into a small pep talk. You got this. You got this. Climbing up towards the window quite evenly has you standing there impressed. Pretty good, you congratulate as he looks down at your figure.

“Than-” Slipping he crashes onto the polished floors.

“Yikes.”

Rubbing his arm he follows you around the dimly lit restaurant. Lots of twists and turns. “I’m starting to get dizzy, how do you know this place so well?”

“I’ve made a few reservations for my boss and her colleagues to have private meetings, now hush and try not to catch anyone's attention!”

“Fuck! You’re Charles Leclerc!” A group of guys stand up in a hurry as you both stop dead in your tracks. You’re confused as to how they know your date's name but as soon as you catch a glimpse of their table’s number, your curiosity flows away.

“Oh so you guys stole our table!” You march over to them as they stare back confused. Charles immediately follows you.

“What are you talking about? We didn’t steal anything.” Tilting your head a bit you stare at them accusingly.

“Yes. Table 29. He reserved it.” You point over at Charles who is busy signing a few autographs in order for them to shut up and not get your attention. Dazed, you pull your eyes away from him as he stands there like a deer in headlights.

The guy ignores you as he pushes past you. Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest as you begin to glare. He begs for Charles to sign his shoe. Standing your ground you walk over to the now open seat. As the group starts to thank Charles for taking pictures and signing their belongings, which still doesn’t make much sense, they return to their table.

“Move.” The guy crosses his arms and begins to tap his fancy glossed shoes.

“No. This is our table.”

He turns to his friends who urge him. Others say, Leave it. She’s hot. Though as much as you're holding on to this stupid table, he is too. “Get up or I’ll have to call security.” Charles starts to stroll over to where you’re sitting to intervene with the situation but you let out a mocking laugh.

“You think a silly little trust fund baby like you scares me?” Licking your red lips you lean your arms over the dinner table. “Cause you don’t.”

His face starts to boil red as he tries to keep his cool. “Listen, this is our table. So get your filthy ass up and leave,” he spits out. Her ass is pretty nice, his friends confirm as Charles tries to restrain himself from going in for a sucker punch.

“It’s okay, jolie fille, I’ll buy you an even better dinner.” You push his hands away as your glare remains on the man in front of you.

“Quit acting like you’re the shit because you’re not. Has anyone taught you manners? Has anyone tamed the doggy?” You pout, poking his ego as he reaches out to drag you by the arm.

“Mate, there’s no need for that-” Charles begins before he catches a glimpse of a flying arm.

“Don’t touch me!” You yell out as you spare a solid uppercut, and as it was unexpected, he flew back where his friends all tackled to not let him fall.

A few guests gasp and others murmur. Charles sends a small dimpled smile before grabbing you, making sure you weren’t going in for more. “Crap. That shit hurt,” you moan as you massage your knuckles. Fondly, and a bit amazed, he smiles.

“I think we should leave,” he advises as you nod.

“Yeah. Go ahead and listen to your owner…doggy.” Turning around, Charles barely has a chance to grab you before you go in for another hit.

“You bitch!”

He stands up, not before his friends hold him back. You kick as Charles lifts you by your waist, carrying you away.

“Let go! I’m going to mess up his botox face!” You dig your nails, not intentionally, into his skin as he hisses.

As you continue screeching in his arms a now concerned and confused John stares, jaw on the floor.

“Don’t worry, Johnny, we’re leaving.”

“Holy shit!” Pierre stares, eyes wide. “That’s so cool! Why didn’t Kika and I do that on our first date?” Everyone agrees. Charles hums at the memory he had not reminisced on for quite a while.

“So you had a fun date and then what? You just let her go?” Lando shakes his head in disapproval, claiming he wouldn’t have messed up in that way.

“No, we still continued seeing each other.” He smiles. “You don’t get it. I was completely captivated by her.”

Apologizing over the last date you both had was pretty easy.

“Don’t worry. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” You laugh at his response as you take a sip of your lemonade. Glossy lips wrap around the straw before biting down. He had to stop staring.

“How did they know your name?” Fiddling with your cup you squint at him underneath your sunglasses. He stiffens.

“You see, I’m…I… I drive.”

You scrunch your nose like a bunny as you let out a muffled laugh. He shakes his head as he tries again.

“A Formula 1 car. I drive in Formula 1.” Nodding you twiddle with the straw.

“What’s that?”

Shocked, he finds himself asking, seriously? You shrug. “Care to explain, Mr. Leclerc.”

He spends the next 2 hours walking you through it all, taking his time. He learns that you had no idea of his status and career in F1 since it appeared that it isn’t as popular in California as it is in Europe, though it’s getting there.

“Nice. So I’m dealing with a celebrity,” you whisper jokingly as you raise your purse to cover you both. “Don’t wanna get paparazzied.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” he laughs as you giggle, bringing your purse down.

“Of course not,” you agree. “You’re Charles.”

For some reason, that makes him feel more seen than he has in years.

“Seriously, how long was this trip and why wasn’t I invited?”

“He just didn’t want you bugging him like you are now,” Max croaks as Pierre flips him off.

“I was only there to buy this one portrait, but as soon as I met her, it’s almost as if that was a reason to stay. I wanted to stay.” Charles stands up to serve himself another cup of hot chocolate, he adds almost half of the bag of marshmallows.

“Leave some for the rest of us,” George cries out.

“Look! He’s getting chocolate drunk, this is a real problem,” Lando pokes fun as Carlos laughs next to him.

“I want to know more about this mysterious girl. What was she like?”

The green eyed boy thinks about it. Then he thinks about it some more. “I don’t know…What I do know is that I’ve never met someone like her.”

“It’s a staple here in LA. You have to go.”

It’s 5pm and you both sit in your old Chevy your grandpa had passed down to you. Here you were, trying to convince Charles to go to the Griffith Observatory.

“I’m not sure…What if someone noticed me?” You tap his nose before you dig into your bag. You pull out two bucket hats.

“I survived LA?” he reads as you nod.

“Bucket hats like these are also a staple, now put it on.” You hand him a pair of Ray Bans as you begin to drive to your destination.

“I feel like Jessica Olsen,” you squeal as you skip a bit, Keds and tube socks scratching along the pavement.

“Jessica who?”

“I forgot you’re all oh la laaa,” you tease as he laughs. You bump your hip against his waist. “It’s a movie. Starstruck. It’s about a girl who ends up meeting this international superstar and they go on all these crazy adventures.” You purposely leave out the fact where they fall in love. “He betrays her by saying he doesn’t know of her on national television!”

Your wounded reaction has him playing along. He gasps. “No wayyy!” Rolling your eyes you pinch his bicep.

“Don’t be a Christopher Wilde and betray me, got it?”

“Christopher Wi-”

“He was the superstar, Charles,” you sigh. “You ought to watch the movie.”

“This is so cool.” He finds himself walking ahead of you as he grows more and more excited with the cosmos.

Behind him you say, “It is, but it sucks you can see more city lights than actual stars.”

He finds you pouting and he wishes for nothing more than to kiss you.

“City lights are cool too.”

“You went to the Observatory as well!” Pierre groans into a pillow.

“Get over it already,” Yuki grunts.

Charles had forgotten how much he enjoyed his time with you. Back in Los Angeles you had said people there pretended to be something they’re not. In Europe, he felt the same. Coincidentally, when you were together, you both were the truest versions of yourselves. Something you both wished you were able to keep.

“Damn. This is pretty cute,” Lewis admits. “How long did you stay there?”

“1 month.” Everyone gasps.

“Oh you were into her into her,” Alex whistles. Growing a bit embarrassed Charles finds himself looking for any excuse to stop talking about you.

“Tell us more! Tell us more!” Daniel chants as he drums his hands against the wall. He shifts a bit before leaning his head up against the warm couch.

“I met her family.”

“God, what did I do to deserve this?” your dad yells as he stares up at the open sky, backyard lit with fairy lights.

“Calm down before you scare him away!” You had invited Charles over for homemade burgers, but you moved out a long time ago, you had no idea your dad was a recent Formula 1 fan. Specifically, Ferrari.

“Of course. I can act cool.”

Breathing hard, Charles finds you carrying your sister's baby. “Hey.” His voice cracks and you laugh.

“Cute. What’s up?”

Fixing his collared shirt he pushes his hair back a bit. “You’re dad is amazing. I mean it, but I need a little break.” Looking over, you find your dad already staring, foolishly sending two thumbs up.

“Ha! I get it. You can stick with me and Macy.” You coo at your niece as she drools down onto her bib. Instantly, you wipe her face. “Macy!” you screech as you softly pinch her chubby cheek.

Charles finds himself staring, admiring, and he never wants an excuse to look away. He’s never been the kind to envision his future with someone, but in that moment, he could. He saw you both living somewhere small, and cozy, somewhere where he could stupidly - and greedily - just enjoy you for himself. He could see you both having a few kids to fill in family portraits. Sundays at the Observatory.

“She’s cute.” Smiling you nod as you press a few kisses on the baby's cheeks and damn it, he won’t admit it, but he was just the tiniest bit jealous. Lucky, he thinks.

“Do you want to carry her?”

Too afraid he steps back, creating distance. “I would just drop her.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” you say as you hand Macy over to him. “Just make sure to support her head, please.” He does as instructed, but as soon as Macy lets out a little kick he almost finds himself purposefully letting go.

“She doesn’t like me, it’s fine!” Maybe he was a little afraid.

“She was only getting comfortable. Weren’t you Macy?” Your baby voice has him feeling more for you than humanly possible. Finally settling down, Charles and Macy grow into a comfortable position. Slowly, she begins to fall asleep.

“Thank you God!” you sister whisper-shouts as she lays a warm pat on Charles’ shoulder. “She doesn’t fall asleep with anyone, she must like you.”

“Really?” This makes him happier than he’d like to admit. Maybe he could do the whole dad-thing one day. His eyes travel towards you.

Frowning you whisper to the baby, “I see how it is.”

As the night grows darker, you both, along with Macy, sit next to the bonfire. “Seriously, a fire during summer?” you groan as you lay against Charles' shoulder. He could do this.

“It’s quite nice.” You let out a small snort as you fiddle with the baby blankie. “Thank you for inviting me.” The shyness in his voice is enough to make your heart swell.

“Of course.”

You take Macy to change her diaper and you disappear when your sister walks up to him. Pulling out a chair for her she thanks him. “You must really like her.” Despite his better judgment, he doesn’t answer. “But it also seems she likes you. You both are very cute. How long have you been together?”

“Uh, I’ve only known her for a week.”

Her eyes grow wide as she lets out a grin.

“Oh she really likes you.”

“Meeting the parents after a week and getting approval? 10/10,” George says as he claps.

“This isn’t daycare, Georgie,” Lewis teases. His teammate immediately stops clapping. More questions are thrown his way but one makes his heart stop for a split second.

“Did you fall in love?”

And he doesn’t have to think about it, because he knows he did.

“Sucks that you won’t be here forever,” you whisper. Amidst of summer, you both decided to go to your nearest farmers market. Picking out some plums he pauses and hands you one. Wiping it a bit, you bite down and let out a soft moan.

“Very good, Charles,” you commend as he smiles softly.

“Thank you, maman,” he highlights. “My mom showed us how to pick good fruit.”

“Do you miss her? Home?” Helping now to fill the small paper bag he thinks about it.

“Oddly enough, no. I mean I do miss my mom, but not home. Not half as what I thought I would.” Handing the lady money, you thank her.

“How’s that?” As much as you sometimes grew tired of Los Angeles you knew deep inside that you would grow homesick.

“You’ve made it pretty easy not to miss.”

Kicking a nearby rock you focus on the old man singing. “Very sweet for you to inflate my ego,” tossing the plum seed into the trash can you turn back around to face him. “I know you’re lying.”

He shrugs. “I mean it, but if you choose to ignore the truth…” Winking, he grabs the paper bag from you. “Hey, do you mind taking care of this?” The group of little boys sitting criss cross look up from their game.

“Sure?”

Grabbing your hand he takes you to the middle, where mostly elderly couples are dancing. “Spare me a dance?” Giggling you nod as you fit the small of your hand into his warm palm. Electricity shoots through you and if it weren’t for Charles flinching as well you would have sworn it was all a part of your imagination.

With his hands on your hips and your own lazily spilling over his shoulders you both sway. It's a rare focus of pure devotion, one that you’ve never felt. One he hasn’t either.

“Not too shabby.” Throwing a playful scowl he spins you before dipping you, hair flying as you let out a yelp.

“You’re going to crack her neck!” The small lady scolds as she looks over to where you giggle. “You’re lucky she’s alive. I’ve been dropped by that move,” she snaps as her husband holds her back.

“It was one time!”

Nodding, Charles brings you back towards him, delicately running his thumb against your cheek. “Didn’t snap your neck, did I?” The way he smiles is enough for you to lean into his touch.

“Nope.”

“So darling!” The old lady squeals as she places her hand over her heart.

After a few songs you both make your way to where the little boys were sitting. “Charles, they stole our plums!” you screech when you find out the group is long gone.

“Fuck. I paid them too.”

That night he invited you over to his hotel. “You can’t drive. Summer rain,” he insists as he points out the window of his room. Loud drops hit the glass.

“I would have been fine but alright,” you shrug as you jump onto his bed. “So what do you want to do? Pillow fight? Prank calls? Ouija board?”

“You’re sick.” He cracks a smile when you shrug.

“Well I’m not tired so you better think of something!”

Boy did he think. He imagined. He grew lustful, but no.

“I know how to shag.” The blush that creeps onto your cheeks makes him choke. “Shag as in the dance! The dance. My mom taught my brothers and I. I could teach you…” You nod.

Spending time in a tight hotel room with a low tune and feet stepping over one another has to be the highlight of his life.

“I thought you knew!”

“I do! I swear!”

You groan as you drop against the bed. “Time out,” you say as you cross your arms as an X, to display your break.

“Fine.” Since you both had not eaten much he decided to order room service. As you wait you both lay down watching old races of his. “Why this?”

“I want to learn more,” you explain as you hush him. The camera pans to a slightly older guy, extremely tan and extremely handsome. As soon as you catch a glimpse that he wears the same race suit as Charles you pause the screen. “That beautiful man is your teammate? The one you were talking about?” The tone of your voice has him groaning.

“Yes?”

“Wow,” you murmur as you softly touch the screen, eyes shining. Slapping the computer shut you turn to him with a sour face. “Why!”

“It’s weird,” he tries to reason.

“So if I reacted like that to you it would be ‘weird’ too?” His voice hitches at your interpretation. Growing shy you look away.

“I guess I would be flattered to be noticed by someone like you.” In a single moment he leans in and kisses you and it's almost as if any other kiss he’s had would never compare. You feel it too, the way he lets you meet his lips as if he’s been waiting for this, as if he’s been craving you.

A soft whine is released as he towers over you, purposefully making you lean against his soft bed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, your skirt hikes up allowing him to grip your thighs. He groans when you begin to rub yourself against him. He can feel just how wet you are and it takes all of him to not flip you to take you from behind.

The door chimes. “Food delivery!”

“You knew when you first danced with her? I knew I loved Kika when she picked up my socks.”

“It sounds like you really loved her,” Lando says. Love, Charles wants to correct, because only an idiot would ever stop, but he bites his tongue.

“What I don’t understand is why we never knew of her before this. Why didn’t you make it work?” Carlos says as everyone nods, sharing the same question.

“It was never going to,” Charles confesses. He wishes it would, he really wishes it still could, but it won’t. “That’s just the way it had to be I suppose.”

“Fuck, fuck,” you moan out as Charles wraps his hand into your messy hair.

“You can take it,” he reassures you. I can, you cry out, mainly to convince yourself, but he’s just too big. Leaning back he spanks your ass before rubbing it.

“Did I hurt you?” he teases as you shake your head against the sheets. “Answer me.”

“No!” With all your power you rise up to your elbows before turning around to look at him with teary eyes. The picture you see is too much; snapping his hips against you he slips in and out in the most sinister way. Sweat covering his face but to you he was glowing. You squeal when he reaches over to push two fingers into your mouth. You gag around his long digits.

This makes you clench around him and he almost stops his pace to catch a break but the way you're moaning, whining, gives him all the strength to continue. You cough as you try to spit his fingers out.

“You weren’t choking on my cock earlier, how is it that you are around my fingers?” His voice is nothing but the opposite of sympathetic and you love it. You shut your eyes as you force yourself to start to suck on them. “That’s it, baby,” he swoons as you take him just the way he knew you could.

Retracting his finger you find yourself missing them. He makes up for it when he pinches your nipples in a certain way that has you pushing your hips back towards him.

“So fucking beautiful.” He mostly says this to himself, but it has you squirming underneath his touch. “You drive me so so fucking crazy, y’know? ‘Twas supposed to be here only for a couple of days, but fuck, it’s almost going to be a month.” You let out a pornographic moan when he slaps your ass before going in much deeper. You find yourself drooling by how good this all was. “You’re so fucking addicting.”

Harder, you wail as you reach up behind you for his hand. He lets out a deep laugh as he hands you a polaroid he took of you a couple of days ago. One where he’s fingering you in front of his hotel mirror.

In it you’re mid-moan, head thrown against his shoulder. It’s almost embarrassing the way you could see your juices shimmer in the picture. You snatch the photo before throwing it across the room.

He tsks his tongue as he flips you onto your back, swiftly pulling your legs up to his shoulders, the angle almost causing you to be completely smushed up against your thighs. “You didn’t like the picture, darling?

“I do,” you pant, trying to catch your breath as you are now face to face with him. “It’s just too much all at the same time.” You bite down on your lip when his mouth forms an O, brows drawn together as he tries his best to appear intact, but the clear sight of having you underneath him is enough to cancel his acting debut.

Reaching out, he grabs your polaroid camera. “Guess I’ll just have to take another.” He smirks when you gasp when he holds onto your legs with the other arm, glistening muscles shining. You flinch at the cold jewelry that covers his beautiful fingers before settling back into a string of whimpers and pleas.

His grip is the perfect amount and you swear you are filled with pure adrenaline that you’ve never felt with anyone. In the most professional manner he spits right into your pussy, only adding more friction than there already was. The warmth has you squeezing your legs around his shoulders, feeling his collar bones underneath. Your core grows tight.

“Shit, don’t do that,” he moans, eyes shut for the briefest moment.

“I can’t, I’m gonna…” You’re cut off when a sudden flash goes through. Wickedly, you find out he took a picture of your tits covered with his cum from earlier activities.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get prettier,” he murmurs as he gazes at the photo, his rhythm only growing faster, harder. He throws the photo - vowing to look for it later - before wrapping his hands around your calves. “You’re going to what?”

Cruel, you think, he’s being cruel. But you don’t give a single fuck, not even when he smirks.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Go on then baby.”

Letting out the loudest cry you throw your head back as you gush around him, him following, and in the most unexpected manner he rubs your clit. This only adds to your pleasure as you are controlled with an unfamiliar feeling. You squirt all around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans as he snaps a picture of you midst squirting and moaning. Quickly, he places the photo on the nightstand before slowly pulling away, mixed cum oozing out. He brings his fingers to gather some before licking it.

“No more,” you weakly plead. He nods as he brings your legs down, leaning up to kiss your cheek before he kisses your lips. You sigh against him.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says when you kiss his nose. He feels your soft breath fanning him, he inhales your perfume, one that he could never forget.

“Ditto.”

“Would you have given up racing just to stay there with her?” Pierre questions when he notices just how serious his friend was about you. He tries to recall the last time he saw him like this but there was nothing that ever compared. It almost scared him, but he was mostly sad. Sad that his friend was yearning for something that was never going to happen.

“Yes.”

“What stopped you?” Lewis asks as he leans against his knees. The room has grown more serious, suddenly filled with gloominess.

“It came to the point where she didn’t want me anymore.” His friends all frown at his response, growing more curious as to what happened, where did you mess up? “I get it though.”

A glimpse of the art piece he first saw when he met you is hung on the wall, a reminder of what once was. That single piece of art was the only reason he even visited LA, if not, there wouldn’t be anything to tell. In a certain way, he’s thankful for the way things flowed because at least he had the pleasure of getting to know someone like you.

“Are you telling them the story of your month trip for my favorite painting?” Charlotte jokes as she enters the room with Lily. “You guys, he waited so long just to buy it for me, it was the most romantic thing ever.” She swoons as Lily smiles, unknowing of the truth behind the painting.

The guys instantly spring their attention back to Charles where he sits silently. He stands up, walking over and places a kiss on her forehead.

“I would do it all over again.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

Text

Another, another Drabble that might be longer than I originally planned…the ending was dogshit🦦

‘It’s cute.’ Sylvia Newbon of the Aphrodite cabin cooed as Luke flashed you a charming smile.

‘Then you can have him then,’ you began, plucking loose threads from your jeans, ‘he’s been nothing but an annoying pain in my ass as of late.’

Sylvia merely chucked as she playfully nudged you in the side. ‘I don’t think that’s possible at this pount, Luke seems dead set on you, and I honestly think you’re being dramatic about all this. You’ve got someone pinning after you and your response to that is to be rid of it?’ She said aghast. You shrugged, not really understanding what Luke saw in you, a child of Hades, a forbidden child other than that; a forbidden child whose existence shouldn’t have come to pass.

‘He’ll get bored of me once he realises I’m not who he thinks I am.’ You defended, now watching Luke as he took a small break from training, face still bearing that smile that only seemed to grow to the point his dimples and pearly whites were on full display. You didn’t want to be the one responsible in taking take away that shine. Ever. For it seemed that ever since your first arrival to camp, Luke had been the only one to stand by you without an ounce of trepidation for who your godly father was; He had been there during the sleepless nights despite the fact he didn’t need to, during your time at the Hermes cabin he would be beside you in the dinning pavilion or even save you a seat.

He did everything in his power to help you and be of aid, all without expecting a simple thank you in return…You genuinely hated how you felt towards him. You originally put it down to the fact that Luke Castellan was conventionally attractive, only to soon learn that it was much deeper than that, which had scared you to the point of becoming recluse.

‘Don’t say that.’ Sylvia said sternly. ‘Don’t do that to yourself, don’t sell yourself short. I hate it when you do that because that means missing out on something pure, something beautiful, something real.’ She then grasps onto your hands, holding them with a strength that was reflective of her passion. ‘I don’t want fear of rejection, for fear itself to control you any longer because if there’s anyone in camp who deserves to be happy, it’s you. You’re the child of hades for fuck sake, fear is beneath you and you know it but you still willingly give it power over you. Why? Why deny yourself true happiness when it’s served up to you on a silver platter-‘

‘Because I’m afraid!’ You exclaimed, cutting Sylvia off but find it difficult to stop. ‘I’m afraid that I won’t be enough for him, that I’ll take away his smile that shows off his perfect teeth and cute dimples! I’m afraid that he’ll never be satisfied being with me because even in a camp full of people like me, much like Nico, I still feel the outcast and I don’t want to burden Luke with that.’ You finished, slightly out of breath. ‘So it’d be better for the both of us if I just kept my distance.’ Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other, letting nothing but the silence to take hold, but then you saw the sudden shift in Sylvia’s eyes as they looked to something just behind you.

You didn’t need to know who it was behind you, not when you could clearly see from where you sat that Luke was missing from his little group of friends that were heading off elsewhere; which was probably why you didn’t express surprise upon hearing his voice from behind saying. ‘I know I probably fucked up my chances by eavesdropping but I completely disagree with everything you said just now.’ You didn’t even react when Luke sat himself down, nor make any attempts to move away when he then shuffled closer to you as humanly possible. Sylvia -obviously knowing what was going to happen- smiled softly as she stood up and promptly left you and Luke to your much needed conversation.

‘And why’s that?’ You rhetorically asked, looking at him as though you weren’t having an internal breakdown as to what might come out of his mouth next. ‘Would me saying I like you be substantial enough evidence?’ He asks.

‘We’re not in a romcom movie Luke, a simple I like you is never going to be enough, especially for people like me who have never been given much of a reason for staying, never mind a good one at that.’ You replied and Luke hummed in acknowledgment before grabbing you hand in a similar fashion as Sylvia did prior; with a strength reflective of his passion. ‘Then let me try again by saying that the day you came to camp was probably the most important day of my life.’ Luke began. ‘From the moment Chiron brought you to the Hermes cabin I knew right then and there that I was a goner. I must’ve been obvious as even some of camp began to notice how I acted towards you and would come up and tell me to tell you and get it over with…but I didn’t because I’d thought I would have enough time to tell you eventually.’ He chuckles, squeezing your hand while you listened intently.

‘I was wrong on that front because it wouldn’t be long until you were claimed by Hades and soon after you had already packed your stuff to move into your new cabin. It wasn’t until then did I realise that I took our friendship for granted, I knew that sooner or later you’d be claimed but at least not for a while, I often asked myself why did I cling onto you so desperately and now I know why.’ Luke finished, looking at you deeply.

‘Why?’ You asked, already knowing the answer.

‘It’s because I didn’t want you to move on and forget about me when I was very much liked the thought of you being close to me, closer than a friend should. So while your cabin was being built I took that as a final attempt in getting closer to you before being forced to wake up in a cabin void entirely of your presence for good.’ Luke replied.

You licked your lips, suddenly overtly away of how dry they were. ‘and here I thought you were just being the friendly head of the Hermes cabin.’ You admitted humourlessly, resting your head against his shoulder without a care. ‘How oblivious was I?’

‘How oblivious we both were you mean.’ Luke corrected as he rested his head atop of yours, briefly closing his eyes. ‘I just hope that I’ve given you enough reason to stay at camp.’ At those words you squeezed his hand in reassurance and uttered softly for him to hear. ‘you gave me that and so much more.’

Luke pressed a kiss to your head. ‘Good because I would’ve followed you into Tartarus and back if I hadn’t.’

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo series #pjo tv show #Percy Jackson #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines

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reiding-writing · 4 months

Note

Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️

migraine massages [ s.r ]

Summary:

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.

i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-

thanks for the request! <33

Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.

He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.

The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.

His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.

“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.

You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.

He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”

You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.

You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.

“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.

At least you hope so anyway.

“Have you… had it for long?”

There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”

You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.

“You should go home Spence…”

He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”

“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”

He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.

“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.

It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.

You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”

He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.

You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.

You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.

Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.

It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.

“You got it?”

He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.

“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.

As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.

Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.

Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.

He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.

“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.

You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”

He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.

He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.

You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.

He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.

He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”

You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”

“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”

If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.

He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.

You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”

You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.

Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.

As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.

For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.

As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.

“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.

“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”

“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“

He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”

“…i’m just worried about you…”

You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.

He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”

He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”

“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”

His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.

There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.

He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.

You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”

“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.

“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.

“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”

As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”

“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.

Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.

He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”

“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”

You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”

There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.

“can you stay with me?”

His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.

With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.

“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.

You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”

You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.

Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.

Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

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nxiispire · 1 year

Note

HI HI HI! MY KIND OF A MOOT FRIEND ON BOTH GENSHIN AND TUMBLR EHE🤭

so i saw that ur reqs were open and ever thought of corruption with xiao???? i just feel like it would work so well

|･ω･`)ﾉ a/n : hihi!!!! tyty nobu for your wise ideas hehe

✰ [ nxiispire ] .. ! Corrupting Xiao

cw : corruption k1nk, loss of v1rginity, sub!xiao

no cause i think about this way more then i should ( ˘･з･˘) he’s just so urrrgg

Thinking about how for a majority of Xiao’s life he thought of himself as merely a weapon, his only purpose was to kill for the sake of others. So of course the idea of indulging in humanly pleasures was forbidden, it wasn’t even something he considered, seeing sex as just a method of reproducing.

Though of course when he eventually found himself looking over wangshu inn, he inadvertently became aware of humans habits to have sex, not for reproducing, but for pleasure.

Despite the curiosity, Xiao never thought such meaningless pleasures was meant for him. He didn’t even know if someone like him was even capable of feeling like that. That was until you came around.

Xiao had no idea that the touch of someone else could fee so good.

Admittedly it took him awhile to warm up to the idea of physical affection. It took him a ridiculously long time for him to not jump out of his skin at a mere hug. But he trusted you, and slowly he began to anticipate your embrace (only in private of course), even letting you kiss him from time to time.

But unlike the slow work up to hugging and kissing, in the heat of the moment you and Xiao took the next step in your relationship in a single night. Xiao didn’t quite understand the difference between innocent hugging and kissing, and full blown sex, so he wasn’t too apprehensive when you asked if you could start undressing him during a heated make out session.

But by the time he realised how different these acts were, he was feeling way to good to stop.

You had your hand wrapped around his cock, slowly jerking him off while muttering praises into his ear, telling how good he was being and how pretty he was.

He almost sobbed at your praises, as the combination of this newfound pleasure and your words felt almost too much. He began bucking his hips up into your hand as he felt an unfamiliar feeling being to rise in his stomach.

“Ahhah- mhh shit i feel- i feel like- aAhh” he paused his efforts to express how he was feeling in order let out even more pornographic moans.

“i- i feel like i’m going ahh~ to explode!!” he whines out, finally finding the words to express this new feeling.

“it’s ok you can let it all out ok? just let go and cum for me” you reassured, feeling as though you could finish at the sight itself. And at your command he came with a loud moan, jerking as you rubbed him through his high.

Xiao didn’t have time to think about what just happened as his eyes began fluttering shut, purely exhausted from the intense orgasm he just had.

#𖦹 sub!char #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #sub xiao #xiao x reader smut #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader

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yuellii · 7 months

Note

could i request neuvillette with gn reader who is afraid of drowning and can't swim, so he provides swimming lessons?

sunshine poured naturally dazzling today, not a single cloud in the sky. perhaps that was your sign that darling neuvillette was having a good day today.

well, on the contrary, you were not. you almost wished he was not having so-jolly of a day just to dim the sun with rain clouds, for the sunlight intensity was only worsening your headache. a headache which was caused by the lack of oxygen in your lungs—from swimming all day.

“when you go into a bug-position underwater, hold your breath for ten seconds, and blow out bubbles,” he instructed firmly, holding your waist as you both stood hip-deep into the water. “this will teach you how to float.

you gave him the slightest of pouts. “you’ll bring me back up if i drown, right?”

“i would never let you drown.” you couldn’t tell from his facial expressions if he meant it in an endearing way or a purely offended one. “just hold your legs to your chest, and blow out bubbles—trust the water, okay?”

you took a deep breath. he looked radiant in the sunlight, you realized. sure, maybe it was the banging headache that was making your vision hazy; but somehow, the chief justice looked a little livelier in the water like this. him, with his full-body diving suit as an attire you’d never expect to see him in before.

perhaps this was a fun little treat to your eyes, but all at the price of the sinking feeling of drowning in fontaine’s waters. but how could he refuse you, when you admitted you had no idea how to swim?

“aaand go.”

okay, you may need to teach him a few more pointers on how to read human expressions, because you were pretty sure that your face made no indication that you were ready to be let go and pushed down. he was very knowledgeable on how to swim, sure, but he was definitely not educated on how to be a teacher.

and so, you immediately panicked, flopping around to bring your knees to your chest as your head filled with the sudden fear of drowning once more. and once you got into the fetal position he told you to, you lost control of your body and found yourself wading up to the surface.

you broke out in short-breathed coughs as neuvillette attempted to stabilize your body atop the water, offering his own chest for you to lean on as you caught your breath. oh, this was so embarrassing. you thanked the heavens he was so nice.

“i couldn’t do it,” you coughed out water. “you saw me try it exactly as you told me to.”

he frowns just the slightest bit. “but it works when i do it…”

you deadpan just a little bit. of course it doesn’t make him panic when he was already used to the water. but you suppose he can’t quite discern your very-humanly emotion of fear for an ocean. “i think that’s enough for me today,” you sighed onto his chest, cold from the fabric of the diving suit. his arms still had a protective hold around you, tho you were barely in the water at all. “i already gained a massive headache.”

he hummed shortly in response. you couldn’t tell if it was a yes or a no, but you think you’ve come to learn it was just his way of saying he was thinking.

and only a minute later, he was guiding you by the shoulders to the shore, holding them so protectively as if these shallow waves could drown you in seconds.

( but, who could blame him, when you were panicking over water only a meter high just a moment ago? )

“i’ve already brought lots of water for you to drink to ease that headache of yours,” he said once he helped dry you off with a towel. his hands were gentle as he circled the cloth against your hair. “and probably take you out to get some pastries, too.”

ah, you loved such a gentleman. you only hoped he could be a better swimming instructor, too.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

sfw alphabet — jj maybank

warning; fluff, angst, maybe suggestive, mentions of jj’s dad, mentions of pregnancy pairings; jj maybank x fem!reader authors note; posting old piece from my drafts, hope you’re all well and have full bellies <3 cred to owner of the gif and the sfw prompts (@/afghrodite )

A = FFECTION (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection? do they enjoy pda?)

He wants any and everything that you will give him. No one can ever change my mind that his first love language is physical touch. There is never a moment where his fingertips are not lingering on your skin. All the time, however, whenever.

Any form of affection will do for JJ, as long as he knows you’re present and that you’re there for him to hold and hang onto whenever he needs.

He longs to kiss the small skin behind your ear, paint your neck in kisses, and every other crevice that he can possibly reach.

He wants to breathe in your air, feel you in his lungs.

To get beneath your skin.

And he absolutely shows PDA, whether it be in the middle of grocery store he’s going to passionately love on you in front of everyone.

“J, there’s people staring!”

He would pull you flush into him, whilst you inspected an apple in the produce isle to see if it was the one you wanted. Such a craving ache to feel your skin against his.

“Don’t give a fuck, need you now, baby.”

The apple would bounce on the tiled floor, and he would leave you speechless by placing a slow and saccharine kiss to your lips. Molding perfectly, just how he liked and he would never get enough of that.

B = EAUTY (what is their favorite part of their partner. body part, trait, anything?)

Your hands. He absolutely loves how small your hands would be compared to his. How needy they look when they graze his frame, how intricately they fit into his much larger ones, and because they’re your hands they belong to you. And anything that’s traceable of you, he adores.

Both hands palm down on the bathroom counter.

“Love those lil’ things.”

He crossed his pinky over yours, so you’d get a hunch as to what he was referring to.

‘My hands?”

“Course’ baby. In every way.”

C = OMFORT (how do they comfort their partner? ex. after a panic attack or bad dream?)

It’s practically a given that he would never want you to be in harms way. He’s going to be there to walk you through every step of coming down from the fear, wallowing in the fact that he’d simply hurt the way his lover hurt.

So, an empath but only for you. He doesn’t give many people the pleasure of seeing that side of him.

If a panic attack were to ammense;

He’d pull you gently onto his lap and whisper the sweetest things he could muster, and that the panic wouldn’t be permanent.

“S’okay m’right here, baby.”

“Breathe with me …”

“Gonna’ get through this okay?”

D = EVOTED (how devoted are they in a relationship?)

The relationship is his most prized possession, and the only thing he’s held that close to his heart in years. He’s fully all in and wouldn’t want it any other way. There isn’t a doubt in his mind that you are his person, and he wants that for as long as humanly possible.

He gives you his full devotion, no one has his attention like you.

He’d definitely be one to say “If you’re tired of me, then take a nap, baby.”

E = NDING (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would definitely have to be something tragic enough, like if cheating was involved.

But he would never fathom breaking up with you.

Because, living a life without you is not a life he could envision living.

If he absolutely had to, if he was at his wits end— he’d more than likely, text you or have one of the Pogues do it for him.

As we have established, he hates confrontation and will avoid expressing his feelings to people for fear of himself. All JJ has known is how to survive, and protect himself and the cause of the relationship ending would be his ultimate downfall.

He wouldn’t be able to cope, so having someone do his dirty work is the simplest route he could go.

F = UTURE (what is their ideal future with an s/o? marriage? how would they be domesticly?)

Try as he might, JJ has sort of always been envious with the idea of marriage. Despite all odds though, he would see himself settling down with you. He wants what he never got in life— desiring to allow you to know his heart and give himself free will to wake up next to you for the rest of his years.

“I couldn’t picture getting married before I met you.”

“How come?”

He’d twist the ends of your hair around his finger, stuck in a trance.

“Never felt this loved before.”

G = ENTLE (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He treats you like an ethereal princess, you are his little baby.

Physically— when he touches you every movement is more delicate than the last, frightened that even if he breathes wrong he’ll break you. Lingering around with touches that are sensational.

“Gotta’ be gentle with my baby, alright?”

“You always are, J.”

Emotionally— he tries his upmost to be positive that he won’t damage or corrupt you. He has the worse time expressing his own emotions so it would be twice as horrifying for him to witness yours falling apart and not know what to do. But he’s fragile with you emotionally, no trace of tears should ever be left on your face in his sight.

“Wouldn’t ever fuck with your head like that.”

He was referring to the couple going at eachothers throat on the TV.

“Hope not.”

“Never pretty girl.”

H = UGS (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

This shouldn’t even be a question. He longs for hugs, any formation of his body against yours, he’s all over that.

He does every millisecond of the day without fail.

Brushing your teeth, calls for a hug from behind every morning.

The sensation of you against him, made him feel like he had all the power in the world. It’s freeing, and it always feels like the first time with his heart thumping every which way.

Do not ever deny him a hug, because he will pout like a small child all day.

“Why the fuck are you always all over her?” Kie grumbled, eyes rolling just a tad.

“Can’t get enough of her Kie, what can I say?”

I = NTUNE (how intune are they with their s/o's emotions? can they read their s/o well?)

He can read you like a book, like the back of his hand. It’s like he can sense it everywhere throughout his being. Just because he doesn’t know how to handle all emotions, doesn’t mean he can’t immediately sense when somethings wrong with his baby.

He proceeds to notice the glint in your eye.

“Who pissed you off now?”

“Just been a rough day.”

“Let me help you baby.”

J = EALOUSY (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s going to fucking maul someone that does a double take in your direction. Pummel them, knock their brains from their skulls, whatever it takes. However, it does take a lot for another's gaze to get under JJ's skin; knowing full-well that he can fight and that what you and him have is unbreakable. But, the main thing JJ does when he's jealous is seat you in his lap or pull you closer into him if you aren't already; or give you endless kisses to make others envy the shared love he has with his girlfriend.

"Gonna' let them know you're mine okay pretty baby?"

"Let ‘em know, J."

K = ISSES (good kisser? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

100% guaranteed that JJ is an undeniably impeccable kisser. He’s had much experience before you, with flings and hookups. But when he found that your lips fit more accurate with his than anyone else’s, he was sold.

His favorite places to kiss you are the most untouched places, the places that don’t get enough recognition. He dares to show them more attention. So the inside of your wrist, the nape of your neck, the small of your back— something so intimate about the many crevices. He’d pay them special attention each and every time.

JJ likes to be kissed anywhere on his face, but mainly his lips because he felt your love that you have for him through the gesture. He was obsessed with the way the pairs of mouths would glide together, and fall apart— ravishing in every second of it.

And you never went unkissed. Therefore, don’t forget his kisses or he’s falling apart.

“Where’s my ‘see you later’ kiss?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to-“

He envelopes your lips with his, before you can continue speaking.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

L = LOVE LANGUAGE (what is their love language? gift giving? quality time?)

As it has already been mentioned. His love language is physical touch, he always wants to be recognized by you with loving and touching and being full of you— missing you in his bones. Though his second love language, is quality time. Because if in some dire circumstance that he wouldn’t be able to touch you at least he’ll know you’re with him— sulking in every ounce of the infatuation the lovers shared. He appreciated you being in his presence, and just creating moments and memories together— living life.

“Found this recipe for us to try tonight baby … s’got all the stuff you like in it.”

Nuzzling in a way for quality time, not a second more spent away from you.

“Sounds perfect J.”

M = MEMORIES (what are their favorite memories with their s/o or family?)

By far, his favorite memory is when he got you high for the first time and your were talking out of your ass. You were saying so much off the wall shit, JJ swore the muscles of his stomach never hurt more from laughing so vigorously. He always comes back to that memory because it encompasses the relationship so well, and he’d always want to relive it.

“How do you think medicine just knows what part of you is hurting?”

He’d sigh into your neck, placing a small peck there before laughing again. “Don’t know baby, m’not a doctor.”

“Can you be my doctor? You’d be such a hot doctor!”

“Want me to fix you all up pretty girl?”

“Mhm, make me all better.”

N = ICKNAMES (what do they call their partner?)

JJ is a nickname type of guy okay! He loves showering you with nicknames. His all time favorite though was baby, because you were undoubtedly his little baby. He treats you like one, he aches for the way it slips of his tongue and he knows you’ll come running. Pretty girl is his second favorite, because you were so alluring in his eyes that you were declared the prettiest woman in OBX. And the girl stems from, you simply being his girl and no one else’s.

He uses them any and every chance he gets, hell at this point does he even know your real name?

You tended to go for J, because it was something no one else called him. It was your own, like he was your own. And you could keep it that way, the single J in JJ was reserved for you, and only you. Baby was thrown in there too.

Several instances he’d require a nickname;

“Baby will you turn off the alarm.”

“Gonna go to JB’s for some beers, pretty girl.”

“You don’t need a chair, my lap is your own personal chair baby.”

O = PEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He is not necessarily closed off, but after having no role model in life to teach him how to express his emotions he tended to sit with them until he could fully process them enough to tell you. When he is ready he’ll come to you, like a sad puppy ready to vent then. Like the first time he told you I love you, he’d known for about 3 months. But he couldn’t find the correct way to say it, either that or he’d back out.

“Don’t know’ s’just when m’around you my heart does this thing … where it’s gonna fly straight out of my chest and I just can’t control it.”

“Is it love … maybe?”

“Always have I guess, because that feeling hasn’t went away. It’s worsened baby.”

P = ATIENCE (how easily angered are they?)

When it comes to patience, JJ has the utmost amount for you, it could go on for multitudes. He was wrapped around your finger, always had a hard time telling you no, and vice versa. It’s also because JJ has walked on egg shells his entire life, constantly getting attacked and belittled by his father— so any given circumstance he has patience to avoid a sour outcome. He knew bumping heads was bound to happen but he always ran away from it. His patience is key, and that’s what keeps JJ centered.

You’d asked him nearly a thousand times if the shirt you were wearing looked fine, and he’s just as amused as he was the first time. Patience not wavering one bit.

Why not make it a thousand and one?

“J, are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look slouchy?”

“Prettiest slouch I’ve ever seen.”

He was toying with you, picking fun only to receive a glare in turn.

“JJ!”

“Okay, okay … you look fuckin’ phenomenal baby.”

Q = UALITY TIME (how would they spend time with a partner? what are dates like?)

If he’s not working he’s with you, the Pogues even teased him about soaking in all his time with you. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, he is always coming up with little schemes and plans as to how to spend essential time together— something worth remembering.

Unable to keep his hands off of you, Romantic, everlasting and with a twist from JJ.

His ideal date though is on the beach, feet gently getting washed by water as the two of you are sat on a picnic blanket. Drinking beers, smoking weed, a little food here and there. His dates are not well thought out at first, as even though it’s supposed to be a surprise he still asks for you help on little things. Merely flattered by even the gesture, the effort mattered most.

“I wanna stay here with you for a lifetime .. gonna’ love you and never leave, baby.”

“We can’t stay here forever though, the sand is gonna’ have imprints of our asses.”

R = ANDOM HEADCANON

You helped him start journaling, he was iffy at first because though he has patience for you he doesn’t have the patience to write multiple sentences down about how he felt.

So you convinced him to take it one sentence at a time, that it would help him cope even just a little bit with the scarring hurt and pain he’s dealt with in his life.

And you persuaded him.

Something to give him routine, and to subsist for a second.

“So glad you introduced this to me baby, my heart doesn’t feel so heavy.”

You’d kiss his temple gently, and his eyes closed at the comfort.

“Anything to help, J”

S = ECURITY (how protective are they?)

JJ will walks to the ends of this earth to be positive you are safe. Whether that be from Kooks, or from someone that tried to hold the door open for you knowing full well you have a boyfriend beside you. He’d be ranked in overprotective, but in the best way possible and for all the right reasons. He’s overpowering with it when need be. You found it attractive simply because of that. But he’s not toxic, or nasty. He’s just JJ.

“So you don’t care how long I’m gone for?”

“Course’ baby, just let me know that you’ve gotten there safe.”

T = TINY ONES (how do they feel about kids? how would they act with kids?)

If it is a teen pregnancy, JJ is hesitant at first because he can’t even take care of himself led alone an actual real life child. But, if it happens he can’t control it, he took part in making it so he will fully own up to that baby. He will take care of it with his life.

Later in life, if you were to get pregnant JJ would absolutely be captivated by it. JJ always wanted kids that he’d be able to give everything to that he didn’t have as a child. A mother that’s present, a dad that loves them unconditionally, and childhood that will be memorable.

He just always envisioned having children somewhere down the line, maybe a dog or two, and his sweet girl.

“Gonna’ have so many babies with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, gonna give them all to you.”

U = UPSET (how do they act after a fight? Would they be the first to apologize?)

He is like a lost dog, he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. And he’s going to fall apart, because everything in his life feels like it’s coming to an end. So every fight silence would fall over the two of you, he’d assume you were thinking about leaving him. Little did he know you just wanted to pluck his forehead for annoying you. He doesn’t want to always be the first to apologize, but he gives into that pride and always apologizes. Mainly because he can’t go more than ten minutes without hearing your voice or touching you.

“Baby, you have to come out eventually.”

His fist clung to the bathroom door after you’d been locked in there for the past thirty minutes due to some idiotic argument.

“No, m’busy being mad at you.”

“Stop being mad and love me.”

V = ALUE (how important is the relationship to them? what is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

The relationship is his first priority. He cherishes it, as it has both healed him and helped him all at once. He values it above all, if he loses this then he officially will feel as though he’s lost any hope in his life. He treasures it, and wants it to linger and fester on like a cut that scars and the scar never goes away.

You were never going away.

It comes above beer, weed, and maybe even the rest of the Pogues in certain circumstances.

“Starting to save up so that we can have our own place.”

“J, we don’t have to do it now if we’re not ready-“

“No I want this, baby.”

W = HOLE (would they feel incomplete without you? what is their worst fear, what causes a hole in their heart?)

He going to crumble. Chasing a high that he knows he won’t ever feel again as long as he’s not with you. Trying everything just to feel something, he’d be fucking miserable. Losing you was losing himself because you were what he based the entirety of the rest of his life around. It definitely would cause a massive, unfillable, black-hole in his heart that would not be able to be healed by another. Your love kept him going, it was his fuel and he knew it was unhealthy. But when you live a life without love being reciprocated, it’s so deathly hard to not let go of it when you actually get it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do without her John B?”

“I don’t know but you’ve gotta’ do something man, you’re stinkin’ up my house. Jesus! Go shower.”

X = XENOS (what is something about them that is strange? something that most wouldn't like)

He likes licking your face … like genuinely he likes licking you. He likes watching you squirm as he does it, feeling his tongue against your smooth skin. Most couldn’t tolerate his wet tongue salivating all over them, but you put up with his odd habit because it was JJ. Tasting of the warmest vanilla.

“JJ, do you really have to lick my face in broad daylight?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Y = ANK (what do they do that makes their partner mad? that makes one wanna yank they ass?)

JJ Maybank does not clean up after himself and it grinds your fucking gears. If he eats cereal and the milk is almost empty, he puts it back in the refrigerator instead of throwing it away. Beer cans will be stepped on, because after he drinks them he chucks it at whatever is in front of him. Old clothes are everywhere, hence the reason he can never find anything to wear. But at least he wasn’t a total slob, so you met in the middle.

“M’this close to choking you if I have to pick up your toothbrush again.”

“Do it then, baby.”

Z = ZZZ (what are their sleeping habits? do they snore? is the schedule fucked up?]

Cuddles of fucking course. His favorite type is the give you all of him by lying directly on top of you though he knows sometimes it crushes you, he’ll suffice for snuggling you into his chest and combing through your hair. And he is definite on staying that way all night, not being able to sleep properly if you weren’t present. He snores lightly but angelic almost, as he couldn’t image a better sleep than the one he has. He also twitches, he has to be in a deep enough sleep though. It depends on if the two of you decide to have a night out wether or not the sleep schedule is messy, but JJ typically looks forward to the shared night routine so there’s no complaints from him. Sometimes, he will even rush you.

Night time skin care before bed for instance.

“Where’s my face mask at baby?”

He’d tuck his hands into the front pockets of your pajama shorts, peppering fragile kisses to your collar bone.

“On the counter,” you pointed to the sheet mask. “Waiting for you to put it on.”

“But I want you to. You do it better, pretty girl.”

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luvjunie · 10 months

Text

— ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs !

ᴍɪʟᴇs ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇs.

— ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

ᥫ᭡ knew better (e-42!miles)

summary: the alluring pull of a stranger entices you to make a risky decision all too familiar to your last. wc: 3,754

ᥫ᭡ when the dam breaks (e-42!miles)

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

ᥫ᭡ broken promises (e-42!miles)

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

ᥫ᭡ trust who? (e-42!miles)

summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648

ᥫ᭡ sleepover (e-1610!miles)

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

ᥫ᭡ roller skating (e-42!miles)

summary: you and miles go on a date to the roller rink and you have a hard time picking up the skill. you ask him to demonstrate for you and he obliges, but you’re so caught up in him that you’re not sure you learned anything at all. wc: 1,254

— ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇs

ᥫ᭡ a fresh start (e-42!miles)

summary: it’s your first day at a new school, and surprisingly, making a friend isn’t as hard as you thought it’d be. wc: 1,853

ᥫ᭡ facetime (e-42!miles)

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

ᥫ᭡ less is more (e-42!miles)

summary: miles makes quite a bit of cash from his jobs, and with his love language being gift giving he often likes to spend a lot of it on you. however, you didn’t grow up with much, and this makes it especially hard for you to accept such expensive things from him without feeling overwhelmed. wc: 1,224

ᥫ᭡ 2:00 AM (e-42!miles)

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

ᥫ᭡ besos (e-1610!miles)

summary: your makeup leaves kiss imprints all over miles’ face and neck, which you quickly have to figure out how to hide from his mother. wc: 1,033

ᥫ᭡ braiding his hair (e-42!miles)

summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702

ᥫ᭡ miles “i got it” morales (e-42!miles)

summary: miles is so used to do everything for everyone, so you show him that things don’t have to be the same way with the two of you wc: 591

ᥫ᭡ closer (e-1610!miles)

summary: your boyfriend’s arms are your favorite place to be. so much so that you wish you could be even closer to him than humanly possible. wc: 505

ᥫ᭡ matching nails (e-42!miles)

summary: you ask miles if the two of you can paint your nails a matching color. wc: 476

— ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs

ᥫ᭡ miles 1610 or 42 as your older brother

ᥫ᭡ miles 42 as your older brother (pt 2)

ᥫ᭡ what it’s like dating earth1610!miles

ᥫ᭡ what it’s like dating earth42!miles

ᥫ᭡ ice skating with earth1610!miles

ᥫ᭡ earth42!miles with a plus size reader

ᥫ᭡ miles!42 and miles!1610 as twins

ᥫ᭡ what life is like for miles!42

— ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘᴀʀᴛ ғɪᴄs/sᴇʀɪᴇs(s)

ᥫ᭡ Unforgettable (e-1610!miles)

↳ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

— ᴍɪsᴄᴇʟʟᴀɴᴇᴏᴜs

ᥫ᭡ miles g spotify playlist

ᥫ᭡ incorrect miles!42 quotes

ᥫ᭡ texts with bsf!miles

— my fics are written through the eyes of a black reader, sometimes implied, but typically not specified!

updated: nov. 21st, 2023

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#masterlist #across the spiderverse fanfiction

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1-800-moondust · 1 year

Text

Bob Velseb x GN Reader (nsfw headcanons)

edit by PeterTheYes1 on Twitter

Bob is such a fucking horny bastard (pun intended)

Your cuddle sessions turn into grinding and the grinding descends into you being pinned under him getting your guts rearranged

He loves to hear you beg for him, seeing you all vulnerable and needy really gets him going

His favorite positions are breeding press and missionary

Basically anything that let's him see your expressions

Despite him being quiet most of the time he can get loud

Like I'm talking animalistic growling and shit, but when he is coherent he's praising you

Bob likes to take his time at first so he can take in every last detail of you but after a while, he starts to speed up

Eventually, it will get to the point where he's pounding you into the bed so hard the bed starts shaking

When he's buried inside you he tries to get as close to you as humanly possible

Sometimes in the process he grips onto you so tightly that he leaves handprints on your hips

Plus he's got good stamina, so don't be surprised when it's like your third round and he says he can keep going

Bob likes to overstimulate you until your legs are shaking and you can't even think straight

He definitely has a blood kink, so he'll give you small wounds so he can lick up the blood that surfaces

He's not opposed to giving you small cuts and stuff like that but he'd never stab you or anything

He's a big guy, and he knows that he could easily hurt you

So he tries to make sure he doesn't cross the line when getting rough

Sometimes when he's in the middle of eating you out/blow job he'll stop and bite on the inside of your thigh hard and lap up any blood that comes to the surface

Bob loves to cum inside of you and watch as it oozes out of you

He has big hands and knows how to use them to turn you into putty

Aftercare is him drawing you a bath and cooking you a nice meal or if both of ya'll are too tired to get up he just cuddles you

Here's some horny posting with Bob 💀 Sorry if it's bad I've never written smut before. Also I'm thinking about taking request while I work on some oneshots. So if yall would like that feel free to tell me!

#bob velseb #fanfic #fanfiction #spooky month #bob velseb x reader #hcs #headcannons #smut hcs #smut headcanons #devil guy

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Winter Wonderland.

Yan Chrollo x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 2k.

Bleary blankets of snow beat down on the isolated cabin you inhabit.

The hearth does what it can to stave off the relentless assault of nature, yet the biting chill sinks its teeth into you nonetheless. You glare at the frosted-over window as if the glass is a personal affront to you. An argument could be made that this architecture was intentionally sought out for its dilapidated quality and the certain advantages poor insulation could bring. A working theory, but the indignation it stokes within you is the most reliable source of heat you’ve discovered thus far.

The wind vocalizes a shrill aria, accompanied by the off-beat thump of loose roof tiles struggling to remain tethered. This orchestral procession keeps your mind on high alert. Exhaustion is a temptation you shoo away to the best of your ability. It’s difficult to imagine a restful slumber when every sound hints at some imminent collapse.

“Aren’t you cold?” Chrollo calls over, as if he actually needs your confirmation. “There’s plenty of room over here.”

What a revelation! Indeed, courtesy of your occipital lobe and functioning eyes, you’re capable of discerning the information he’s oh so generously provided. You grit your teeth and succumb to another shivering spell. Pride is a curse and you’re undoubtedly damned. Chrollo is the one who led you into this problem and still thinks himself deserving of offering a solution. He’s situated directly in front of the fireplace, on a loveseat, moved over to the left side in waiting for your inevitable resignation.

“Hypothermia is distinctly unpleasant, dear.”

You roll your eyes. You’re about to thank him for sharing such esoteric knowledge with you, when an alarming realization settles in.

Your hands are starting to go numb.

The crackling fireplace exerts a magnetic pull you’re growing increasingly unable to resist. Your survival instincts commit mutiny, overthrowing your incessant need to be as spiteful with Chrollo as humanly possible. Before you know it, your feet are moving in his direction of their own accord. You’d like to accuse him of using one of those Nen abilities, though when you get closer, his precious book is nowhere to be seen.

He pats the empty cushion beside him at your continued reluctance.

Thankfully, there are no demeaning words on his part when you resign yourself to your fate. Your weary legs cheer at this opportunity to relax. The rest of your body is already reaping the benefits too, thawing the layer of cold you were encased in. It seems whatever higher power exists has seen fit to continue smiling upon you, for Chrollo shares his blanket without you needing to grovel.

“Is that better?” Chrollo queries. You eye him with undisguised suspicion. This amiable mood of his is odd, a departure from the usual script. How much of it is manufactured or genuine is inscrutable. You try to read his face, like you’ve attempted thousands of times before, inspecting each crevice for hints you’ll never find.

He surprises you by chuckling. The sound is breathless, almost melancholic. It makes you frown.

“It never ceases to amaze me, just how many ways you can express your hatred without needing to utter a word,” he tilts his head, inspecting you in the same way you did him. He’s grown closer without you realizing it. He’s akin to a disease that way — always encroaching where he’s never welcome. “Does it make you feel better?”

“Yes,” your reply is instantaneous. His lips quirk up, but it’s far from a content smile. “However, it’s not for the reason you think.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Hesitation returns. You’re falling into his cadence, lulled like a lamb to slaughter. Having your brain picked by Chrollo is as regular a daily activity as eating. You’ve never arrived at a singular reason to explain his obsession with the act; whether it be depravity, curiosity, or to satiate the need for human contact he can’t get elsewhere. Perhaps it’s a mixture of all three. A malformed cocktail with ingredients too noxious to palate.

You’ll never get used to the taste, so it’s best to down it all at once.

“There’s something truly sad about you,” you lift your hand to touch his cheeks, made rosy from winter’s unforgiving embrace. It gives you the false impression of a cherub, the very being he’s the antithesis of. “You don’t know yourself, so you must dissect others. It’s safer that way. You don’t run the risk of discovering something unsightly if you never search in the right place.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was under the thrall of a hypnotist’s pocket watch. His gaze is distant yet somehow present, fluctuating between two extremes.

“It’s an interesting theory,” he allows. His voice is playful whereas his expression is not — you note the dissonance. “I can tell you’ve considered it at length. Do you think about me often, sweetheart?”

You sidestep the bait he’s set out for what must be the umpteenth time. “That was the primary goal behind the creation of solitary confinement, yes. Forcing the inmate to think.”

The jab at your living arrangement doesn’t go unnoticed. He raises an eyebrow.

“About themselves, wasn't it?”

“And the warden too,” you reaffirm.

He closes his eyes — contemplating whether to press you on this subject or another, no doubt — then reopens them with newfound conviction. “You’ve yet to explain your original point.”

“I was getting there, when someone saw fit to interrupt,” you huff. He never fails to get on your nerves. “Yeah, I’m sure petty satisfaction has something to do with it. You’re not above that yourself. It’s more than that, though. It’s about choice. It’d probably be easier if I went along with all your whims and acted the part of a starry-eyed lover. Then I remember you are who you are because you made the easy choices. So I don’t want to.”

Chrollo doesn’t bother trying to conceal the interest this piques in him. “You think I’ve made the ‘easy choices’ to get where I am today?”

A premonition coils its tendrils around you then, attempting to constrict you before you wander into volatile land. There’s no threatening lilt in his voice yet, or the look that tells you to keep your mouth shut before you regret it, but you’re getting there. Traipsing a steadily fraying line when it’d be simpler to cower back to safety.

It’s a wonder what you’re looking at is a human being. That your hand is touching skin, which bleeds when broken just as yours does.

“Cruelty is almost always easier than kindness. It’s our natural condition. That’s where humans are special, distinct from any other organism. Our capacity for growth. We can become kind, although we’re born cruel. I think that is strength. That is the difficult choice. Which is why you and the other Spiders don’t make it,” you drop your hand, finding it sufficiently warmed. “You refer to people as ‘puppets’ because it’s easier that way. You kill and steal for the same reason.”

Another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were such a humanist.”

“You didn’t?” Your expression conveys your disbelief. “I thought that’s the entire reason I’m here.”

“That’s certainly part of it.”

There’s unsteady silence for a moment. Most days, he’d counter your points and nitpick every little detail with the fanaticism of a zealot. For whatever reason, this method doesn’t interest him now, he seems content to take what you’re dishing out. Is he trying his hand at self-flagellation or something? Whatever the case, you’ve spoken your piece.

You turn your attention away to the fire. Its glow swaths the rustic room in a reddish hue. If you were here with anyone else, you might go so far as to call it cozy. That was probably Chrollo’s intention behind choosing the locale. The snowstorm holding you hostage was just an added bonus.

An arm slithers its way around your shoulders. You sigh but bite your tongue. The addition of his body heat at least has a practical use; he once mentioned mastery over Nen includes the ability to manipulate one’s physiology at will. That must be nice in conditions like this.

He tugs you toward his side, and you relent, knowing you lack the strength to put up a meaningful fight.

“I admire your tenacity,” he reveals. You stay trained on the flickering flames. “Most would shrivel up in fear before they spoke to me that way.”

“Should I fear you?”

“A little,” Chrollo hums. “Everything in moderation.”

The branch from a nearby tree beats incessantly against the window. You jump, attempting to twist your body to the left where the sound originated, but Chrollo’s grip grows impossibly tight. You may as well have been wearing a straight jacket. Figuring it’s just his way of reasserting dominion over you, you don’t bother dwelling on it.

“[First].”

It’s rare that he says your name. You’re normally assailed with sickeningly sweet monikers like dear or sweetheart, a tendency you’re half-convinced he developed to irritate you. Swallowing down your dread, you prepare yourself for the potential fruits of your earlier premonition.

“Hm?”

“You’re right that I chose to be this way,” he says. This catches your interest. “Whether or not it was an ‘easy’ decision by your definition of the word… I’m unsure. I became someone worth fearing out of necessity.”

His earlier melancholy weighs heavy in the air.

“That’s just as well. I don’t regret it. No… it’d be more accurate to say I’m grateful for it. Say I chose the ‘difficult’ path. Exemplified the virtues you hold so dear. I’d be awfully miserable in this proposed universe of yours.”

This is a trap you can’t sidestep. “Why?”

His lean fingers dance up and down your forearm. “Cruelty is my natural element, you said so yourself. I’d be denying the desire I was born with. I may even be denied you, consequently. What allows me to have you here, like this, the subject of your undivided attention and object of your thoughts? Is it kindness? Morality?”

His espousing of libertine values is nothing new to you, yet the resonance of his words is deeply unsettling. It’s as if they’re dawning on him for the first time. That by entertaining your discourse, you took him by the hand and personally led him to this conclusion. Nurtured a nascent idea he never would’ve found otherwise.

You feel cold again.

“No, it’s none of those things. I have you because I played dirty, [First],” his chest rumbles when he chuckles. “You are a wonder I can never lose my appetite for, every taste has me longing for more. Your mind, your heart, your soul… you bare them all so willingly, with a little prompting. How many would you have benefited if I never interfered in your life?”

It’s agony — still, you wrench yourself against his hold, to the degree he must loosen it, lest he break you — mustering up all your malice to glower at him. If you were capable of exerting bloodlust, it’d certainly be thick enough to devour anyone it came into contact with. You have no such parapsychological abilities, so you settle on what you can do, your animosity raw.

Chrollo’s eyes soften with warmth only you can draw out. “I’ll be the sole benefactor of your effulgence. If given the opportunity to do it again, I wouldn’t hesitate to go down the path that ends with you.”

Your lips part and then close.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to adhere to mind over matter. A few seconds that carry the weight of eternity pass. You relax your posture to the best of your abilities, your shoulders drooping and your body heavy as lead.

Once again, you raise your hand to touch the cheek you held earlier.

It’s wet.

“… I meant what I said earlier,” you observe the glistening of his skin with an impassive expression. “There’s something terribly sad about you, Chrollo Lucilfer.”

If he’s incapable of acknowledging this reality, you’re more than willing to.

#chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #my stuff

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

Puppy Love 3

Find my CoD masterlist

More adorable puppies, a minor confrontation, and John finally makes a move.

Warnings: Brief confrontation, vague threats, some anxiety.

Word count: 1.4k

John Price x f!reader

Gaz made it to Price’s office in record time, keeping his ears open. The last few days, Soap had been making noises about going to see the puppies (and the cute breeder). But Gaz was determined to keep him and his flirting away from her.

She wasn’t right for Soap. But she might be right for Price.

Price took one look at his expression and chuffed. “I don’t want to hear who did what,” he grumbled, looking back at his paperwork.

“No, sorry, Captain,” Gaz was quick to correct. “We’re avoiding Soap and going to see the puppies.”

“Why are we avoiding Soap?” Humor had returned to Price, though he didn’t get up yet.

“Because he’s an annoying sod.”

“True enough.”

When Price still hadn’t moved after nearly a full minute, Gaz narrowed his eyes a little. “I thought you wanted to see the puppies.”

“Mm.” Price frowned down at whatever report was in front of him. “You don’t need me to hold your hand, Gaz.”

“‘Course not, sir.” Gaz quickly filed through his plans. “I just like your company that much.”

Price chuffed again. “You’ll manage one day without me.”

Damn. This was not going the way it was supposed to. Why had Price decided to be so stubborn now of all times?

Inspiration struck and Gaz strode over to the desk, pulling his phone out and navigating quickly to his texts. “Don’t you want to see these cuties?” He kept his voice light as he turned the phone around, letting Price see a picture of all seven puppies trying to climb over the baby gate.

And, conveniently, letting Price see the caption below:

Would you share this with John too? So he can see how much of a menace these little rascals are.

Gaz saw the moment Price read the caption, his lips parting ever so slightly. “Well. I suppose I could go with. Since you don’t want to go alone.”

Gaz grinned. “Thanks, Captain.”

Price waved him off, getting to his feet. Gaz tucked his phone away again, trying hard not to be too smug. “Let’s go see the pups.”

–

“I’m sorry,” you reiterated, standing firm in front of your door. The step didn’t give you very much height, but enough that you weren’t stuck looking up at the asshole in front of you. “The puppies are all spoken for already. If you’d like, I can put you on a waiting list or get you the contact information for other breeders.”

“I was told you had a puppy available.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. He’d been rude the entire time, and something about him made you want to get him off your property as fast as humanly possible and never let him near a dog.

“I’m afraid that’s not true. They’re all spoken for.” Your smile felt forced but you clung to it anyway.

“If you’re lying to me–” He took a single step closer, and you dropped the smile, taking a half-step back to press your back against the door.

A car stopped outside your house and you both froze. Kyle and John emerged from the car, both of them taking in the scene.

“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Kyle called with a friendly smile.

“Not at all,” you immediately piped up, though you refused to move.

The man glowered at you but backed off, apparently unwilling to press the issue with witnesses around. He turned and stalked away, narrowly missing colliding with John’s shoulder.

“You alright?” Kyle asked, jogging the rest of the way up to the front door.

“Fine,” you said, plastering on another fake smile. “It was nothing. Come inside, please.” You fumbled for a moment before you got the door open. Your hands were shaking. You were quick to stuff them in your pockets. “You can definitely get an idea of their personalities now,” you told Kyle, walking them to the kitchen. “Need me to open the gate?”

“Nah, I’ve got it.” Kyle glanced at you one more time before he stepped over the gate, immediately getting mobbed by the puppies.

“The boys are the red, purple, and white collars,” you said, taking a step back. “Take your time.”

“You sure you’re alright?” John asked very quietly from next to you.

“Of course!” Your smile felt too brittle but you couldn’t let go of it. “Go play with the puppies, they love new people. Excuse me for a moment.”

You didn’t give him a chance to object, instead walking away as smoothly as you could. You rounded the corner to the front door and double checked it was locked before you leaned your head against the door, breathing deeply.

You’d always been terrible at confrontations. Always. And this one had been bad.

Sometimes you hated living alone, not having someone to lean on.

One last deep breath and you forced your shoulders down, your smile more natural.

Clearly you hadn’t been missed, though. Kyle was sitting on the floor with one puppy in his lap, another pouncing on his boot. John was standing in the kitchen where you’d left him, though he was watching Kyle. The fact that neither of them was looking at you helped you relax a little bit more.

“I was serious, you could sit with them,” you told John, smiling at him.

He shook his head a little. “Nah. Gaz can have his fun for now.” He paused there, one hand lifting to stroke briefly over his facial hair. “So someone did express interest in the last pup?”

“Uh, not exactly.” You shifted your weight, looking down and off to the side.

“What happened?” He kept his voice low and nonjudgmental.

“I just…” You floundered for a moment, unsure where to even start. “He came up to the door asking about a puppy. But he was… rude. Off. I don’t know why he wanted a puppy but I doubt it was for the right reasons. So I… lied.”

John was silent for long enough that you peeked at him, nervous. He had apparently been waiting for that, because he nodded once.

“Trusting your gut is always a good idea,” he murmured. “You made the right call.”

Your shoulders relaxed the rest of the way with that little bit of validation and you smiled. “Thanks,” you whispered.

“Do you have anyone nearby if he comes back?”

“Not exactly.” You shrugged, shifting your weight nervously. “I don’t open the door without checking who it is first, anyway. And I’ve got a baseball bat.”

John was quiet for a few moments before he shook his head once. “I’ll give you my number,” he offered. “You can call me if you ever have problems.”

You blinked, eyes going wide. “Are you sure?” You couldn’t help but fuss with your shirt a little. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

He smiled crookedly, eyes warm. “You won’t be,” he assured you. “Promise.”

So you pulled out your phone and took down his number, and then texted him your name and a picture of the puppies so he’d have your number as well.

(Still cuddling his puppy, Gaz couldn’t entirely hide his glee. This had worked out even better than he’d planned!)

“Well, Gaz? You know which one you want?”

Kyle popped up from the floor, grinning and holding his puppy to his chest. “This one.”

“Purple collar, got it.” You made a note in your phone. “He’ll be ready to go home in two weeks.”

“Perfect.” Kyle chuckled when the puppy licked his chin. “Yes, we know you’re cute.”

You smiled. "Looks like he's bonding with you already. That's good."

"Can't wait until I can bring him home." Kyle set the puppy down with a sigh.

"It'll go by faster than you know." You reached over to pat his shoulder.

"I know." He didn't quite pout… but it was close. "Guess we'll head back now."

You nodded, standing to the side to watch them head to the front door. Kyle walked out and jogged over to the truck, but John stopped just outside the door.

"I meant it," he murmured, low and serious. "Call me anytime. For any reason. You'll never be a bother."

"Thank you." You smiled at him. "I'll see you soon."

#puppy love #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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bird-inacage · 9 months

Text

Love in the Air: The Significance of Security to Sky

This moment folks. I need to talk about it. I already gave it an honourable mention, but I want to dissect why Sky's reaction here spoke volumes - and how the significance of security (aka marriage) is so important as a conclusion to the Prapaisky story.

When we first meet Sky, he's still wading through the shadow of his abuse. The prolonged aftereffects which could potentially continue for the foreseeable future, affecting his overall happiness and ability to love again.

Now fast forward to this expression we see on Sky's face during the wedding. Despite all the trials and tribulations, despite thinking he might never overcome those demons - I saw in his expression - an echo of the 'young Sky' again. The innocence in his smile. The giddy wholesomeness which is often found in young 'puppy' love. Eagerness and anticipation for things to come. Hopeful excitement which isn't marred or jaded by the toil of hardship. An expression that contained an immense degree of appreciation and relief, a 'thank god you found me' relief. A 'close-to-tears' relief that comes with finally being seen and/or valued. The point is, that expression is very similar to the way he'd looked at Gun before everything that followed.

That's the expression of a boy who has fully and willingly opened their heart to another. And here it is again. On his wedding day. Sky has somehow managed to restore some of that innocence in love he lost.

Most of Sky's anxieties can be attributed to a lack of safety (such as difficulty with trust, doubt in stability, worry of being taken advantage of, insecurity in his self-worth). This all manifests from a very simple and basic human instinct we all possess - and that is to feel safe. When someone so intimately close to you betrays you in the worst way imaginable, they've effectively stripped any sense of safety away from you by force. This is the state in which Prapai finds Sky in at the start of the series.

I've talked many times before about how Prapai fulfils a 'protector' role incredibly well. But in fact his way of handling Sky goes beyond protection. He's very adept at creating a safe space around Sky, as well as allowing Sky to feel safe when he's with him. And that's not only by loving Sky, but truly caring for Sky's wellbeing and his basic needs. Whether that's ensuring he eats, making sure he rests, or reminding Sky he doesn't need to suffer alone. This is achieved by listening, by not overstepping, by holding back, by being patient, by being gentle. And eventually escalates to Prapai 'removing' Gun as a threat. The very genesis of Sky's suffering and the very person who robbed Sky of his safety, which Prapai had been working so hard to rebuild.

Safety comes first before all else, due to safety being intrinsically linked to survival. It's only once you've established safety, that you can add security - further measures to 'ensure' this safety lasts as long as possible.

This is where Prapai's intentions for marrying Sky (other than the most obvious) are really worth considering. By his very character, our boy Prapai famously never half-asses anything. He's all in, all the time. He wants to provide everything humanly possible to the person he loves, and that involves giving Sky the highest form of security he can offer, which is by marrying him. Binding them in name, on paper, as well as on all remaining principles.

For most people, the fine print and diplomacy of marriage is not particularly romantic. But in this case it's exactly the functionality and formality of marriage that will provide Sky with the security Prapai seeks. Prapai possesses privilege. And that privilege allows him access to means he can extend to Sky. So marrying Sky means: 'I will be responsible for you. What's mine is now yours'. 'If anything happens to me, you have everything I have.' 'I now legally have the permission and the right to fully take care of you.'

This isn't essential to Sky. He already has Prapai by his side, which is plenty as far as he's concerned. He doesn't need or desire anything else. But Prapai wants to. Because Prapai is thinking about the future - their future. He is always anticipating what Sky needs or may need before Sky does for himself. Sky's perspective has always been 'you've done enough, this is enough', whereas Prapai's perspective is 'what else can I do?' At first Prapai was just trying to ensure Sky's basic needs were met and now that he's achieved that, what's next? All of this is an attempt to safeguard the person he loves and their future together. It's the devotion in such an act, the restless pursuit of such a cause that means so very much to Sky. Because he knows (as do we) - that Prapai would do anything for him.

And that - that is what we call marriage material folks.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #LITA meta #wedding plan #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #fortpeat #ive missed dissecting them #its meta time baby #just spending my friday night thinking about them

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rottendollface · 17 days

Text

The Horror of Our Love. Chapter 4.

Co-author: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Image: Picsart Al.

Warnings: NSFW; Ajax is older than in canon;

broken time line and age line for the sake

of plot; female virgin reader, incestuous

relationship, family abuse, self-harm,

misogyny, mentions of rape, unprotected

sex, black magic, blood and flesh magic,.

body horror, sacrilegious, Foul Legacy

Childe, breeding kink, miscarriage, marriage

grooming, pregnancy, erotic lactation.

murdering, abyssal soulmates, serfdom

system in Snezhnaya; all the characters are

adults; 18+.

Time was running mercilessly and the date of Ajax's departure was getting closer. Your mental state improved and you opened to your family, but the common joy ended quickly, as you hid into your wordless shell again, frustrated with a hollow feeling of upcoming loneliness.

Ajax was stressed out. It wasn't rare for you to find him talking to himself, discussing plans for the future and even arguing. Ajax's short temper and unreleased anger were showing at these moments: he was gesticulating in an excited manner; if not, he was walking back and forth, and sighing heavily.

It happened again when you were searching for Ajax to tell him to come and help others on the stable. You heard his heavy footsteps on the second floor. Before you knocked on the door, you overheard him saying something about grandmother.

“How in the world could an uneducated hard-working woman become a witch? Still can't get it right in my head.”

You shouldn't be heeding to his words – you were taught not to eavesdrop, but something in your mind told you to stay and spy on Ajax. You pressed your ear to the door and leaned on it. It was unusual and exciting for you until you heard someone answering him.

“You don't need to have specific knowledge to become a witch. She was in so much despair and pain it made her prayers especially sweet and strong. We couldn't ignore such a broken soul. After she got the power, she got the education as well – we taught her to read and count in one hour.”

You frowned, trying to understand who Ajax was talking to. You didn't hear that voice before and it sounded strange: loud, deep and hoarse. At first you couldn't even understand what the person was talking about – their speech was gibberish without words. You heeded, then your mind translated it to a normal humanly sounding state.

“Brilliant. And who was she praying to?”

“She was praying to the devils, young master. The disadvantage of her choice is simple – you never know who will answer to your call.” The person chuckled. You frowned. “In her case, it wasn't just a deal. It was a salvation. We saw a potential in her: her hatred and thirst for vengeance were commendable. She wanted someone from her family to inherit the power and continue the legacy. Just like in the prophecy.”

“A prophecy?”

“Not now, young master. You want to ask me about the diary and the missing part of the power, I can feel.”

“Don't you dare tell me what I want to do.” Ajax hissed. “I had enough of this! One more time you and your fucking henchmen show me these lousy dreams I'll send you all to the deepest of the Abyss and let the guards have some fun with you all in the same manner. Speak and then get lost, son of a bitch.”

“So, part of the power was passed to your dearest sister and there is no way for you to get it back from her, but she will share it with you.”

“What?!” Ajax was stunned.

“Ask her yourself. Not in my duties to explain everything to you. But I must confess she has a rather beautiful birthmark on her pretty back. Such a pleasure to watch her dressing up in the morning.”

You felt that someone pushed the door and jumped back so as not to fall into the room.

“Ajax! Father needs your help on the stable.” You spoke first and played like you didn't hear anything. Ajax froze with an aggressive expression on his face, but his gaze became softer when he looked at you.

“'Thanks,” He didn't wait and rushed to the stable. You stood aside to give him enough space, then looked into the room.

You made a step into it. The atmosphere here was different. A cold sweat broke out your body when you realized whom Ajax was talking to. In a second you felt that everything around you was hostile and hurried to get back to your room, but the door closed right in front of you. In fact… you had questions too, but you were afraid to build up communication with those ghoulish creatures.

“How can I get rid of you?” You asked into the fake emptiness.

“There is no way.” The answer was given to you immediately. You cried out, regretting your decision. “We serve your brother.”

“What about me? You said I have the same power as him.” Your brain was running fast, as you tried to rate the risk of the situation. You didn't want to repeat your recent journey of escaping demons, so you stayed alerted. Just a reminiscence of it made you weak in your knees.

“You stole a part of it from him. We mean no harm to you because of the master's order, but we have no desire to help you.” A mocking voice said, leaving you angry.

“You caused me a lot of harm.” You flared up. You realized that you wanted to play dirty on them. “I'll ask your master to execute his threat. You'll get what you deserve.” You grinned, imagining the torture Ajax promised to them. “Open the door.”

The door opened with a creak. You stepped out and the daze fell from your mind. Your heart was beating like crazy and your limbs started shaking from the fact that you commanded those demons.

“I hope you are suffering in a sulfur flame, grandma!” You couldn't keep the sudden outbreak of anger inside your throat. It all was her fault. Ajax and you were doomed to repeat her miserable fate because of her selfishness. The old fool believed in some prophecy – you were sure it was just a fiction of the demons to trick her into selling her family's souls to the devil as well. “Stupid cunt! Why couldn't you kill your husband without this fucking heresy?!” You screamed and froze. You opened your eyes so wide they hurt and pressed your palms to your mouth, trying to understand what you just said.

You made it to your room, feeling dizzy from the overexcitement. You laid down to rest. You felt so disgusted by your attitude you couldn't even believe that you let these words out of your mouth. Guilt was gnawing at your heart. Your head and your chest were heavy, you were about to doze off to sleep. Recently you got health issues: no matter what, you always were sleepy. With every day it was harder for you to wake up and get out of bed. You slept for ten and more hours, skipped meals and house work, as you felt completely drained out of energy. Even father stopped bothering you: despite his strictness, he was concerned about your health.

Suddenly you remembered about the diary and your attention focused on it. You got up but sat down on the edge of your bed, because your vision blacked from a sudden move. You took the diary from its secret place and started reading from the very beginning. You didn't know what you hoped to find, and everything you read didn't make any sense. The words were written in a normal human language, but you couldn't understand a thing from it, as if the diary itself didn't want you to know its secrets.

You stopped in the middle part to examine a magic circle that was drawn on a page. It was a simple circle with two smaller size circles inside of it. The smallest one had inside two triangles merged in the shape of a star, and in the free space in the middle of the triangles there was an eye; outside the smaller circles there were four crescent moons. You looked at it carefully, then read through the text on the next page and managed to understand it. The text was about an astral plane – an experience of lucid dreaming with the astral projection of your soul traveling through the spiritual world. Flashbacks of grandmother's house attacked your mind right after you decided to explain to yourself the definition of the spiritual world. There was no other useful information to gain and nothing was said on how to get into another world.

You returned the diary to its place, then realized that there was something wrong with it. It seemed like the diary was deciding which information to give to you, and which one to hide – maybe it was some sort of magic. Bewildered, you took a deep breath and laid for a nap. You were in a slumber when Teucer opened the door and came to your room on his tiptoes. He looked around, then stared at your face.

“Older sister,” he whispered and shook you by your shoulder. You woke up with a scream, making him jump back. “There is a noise inside your room!” By Teucer's tone you could tell he felt as scared as you.

“What? I heard nothing.” You rubbed your sleepy face, hardly understanding what he was trying to tell you.

“No! I could swear I heard something inside!” In a second Teucer turned into a whiny boy, his voice got crying notes – it was his usual strategy to attract attention to his words. “'Like someone was scratching on the wood!”

“It was mice, probably.” You tried to wave him away. You were too tired to talk: your whole body was heavy and your eyes were clothing on itself. You couldn't sit anymore and laid on your side. Teucer's ginger hair irritated you with its bright color, it made your eyes hurt. You couldn't hear him anymore, simply ignored everything he tried to tell you. Teucer ran away, as he got no response from you.

Just a moment after he came back with Ajax, lamenting on your behavior. Ajax sighed, patted Teucer's head and promised to take a look at the situation. Teucer, who was feeling like a hero, left Ajax and you alone. “What's wrong, dove?” Ajax closed the door and sat on the bed. He brushed away hair that fell on your face. You could feel his peculiar look with your skin.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, hiding your face in a pillow. “I just want to rest.”

“Don't want to seem rude,” Ajax's voice was anxious. “but you are resting too much. Are you okay?”

You didn't answer him, as you fell asleep already. All Ajax could do was to cover you with a blanket and leave, tormented by conjectures. He asked the devils by his side about your health, but their answer was vague – an eclipse was about to happen. Ajax spent the day without you, hoping that you would wake up, but you didn't.

As usual, he came to your room at night when everyone else was asleep. Ajax found you awake, reading the diary. Two candles were illuminating the room; the wind was howling behind the window, bringing chilly air through the loose shutter. Your room was the coziest in the whole house to Ajax, because it was you to leave here. It was located in the back of the house, poorly furnished and cold, but your presence made it comfortable and welcoming. You closed the diary and put it in the secret spot.

“Do you mind sharing something interesting with me?” Ajax blew out the candles and made himself comfortable in bed. He laid on his side, so he could face you.

“Just a magic book paired with an autobiography.” You did as well, looking at your brother in the dark. “Ajax,” you started, but stumbled, afraid that your question would make him angry. Still, you continued. “Is there any chance for us to return to a normal life?”

“It is our normal life now. You better get used to it.” Ajax sighed. “It is our fate, dove, and we can do nothing about it.”

“I don't want fate like this. I would better die, than…” you bit your tongue, realizing how foul your words were.

“We were talking about the diary.” Ajax replied with a stern voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You got nervous and scratched your clavicle. “I don't understand what is happening. Why are we talking so casually about something like this, ignoring all the devilry that is surrounding us?”

You were the voice of sense, and Ajax lost all his words. You were right – for him it was a usual topic, but for you, who almost lost one's mind contacting the devils and was contaminated with abyssal power against one's will, it was a delirium of polluted brain.

“That's not something we should discuss for a night. I'll tell you everything later.” Ajax put his pinky finger towards you and you did so, sealing the promise.

In a small talk you were the one to lead the conversation. Ajax kept you in his tight embrace, replying leisurely. His warmth and soft smell of his sweat made you feel relaxed – in this chaos of life Ajax's hands were the only space you felt safe in. It was selfish, it was unfair, but Ajax was the only reason that kept you in this world. His love was your motivation to live and become better. You wanted to protect Ajax in your own way by giving him solace he needed. No one could replace you in his life, no one could love him and comfort him better than you. Was it jealousy? It definitely was. You couldn't even imagine Ajax doing the same things he did for you to another woman. Those fantasies made you feel angry and reckless.

You turned your head to him, his lips were dangerously close to yours. You looked at him, waiting for something more – out of sudden the desire to be closer awoke in you. Ajax tarried, taken aback by your sudden move, so you pressed your lips to his gently. He slightly opened his mouth, helding your lower lip between his. You felt Ajax fingers brushing over your jawline, that made you hold your breath. An unusual drawing feeling curled in your lower belly; it made you thirsty for more than a kiss – your nipples hardened, full of lustful sensation.

“This is wrong…” he whispered, pulling away from you. The two extremes were fighting inside his soul – being on the verge of another Fall, Ajax suddenly remembered that he was a virtuous man once. Even his corroded heart contracted nervously. He desired to have you, but you were his sister.

Perhaps, he just needed a little push into this abyss.

Ajax quickly got on top of you, his trembling hands caught your hips. It was the first time he touched a woman in such a private place, that left him overly excited: the beast he was restraining broke out. His mouth covered yours, he placed heated kisses across your face, got down to your neck, biting soft skin, then traveled lower, until your night dress. Ajax's ardor surprised you, the way he forcefully pushed his tongue inside your mouth and squeezed your breasts with tenacious slender fingers made you squeak.

Ajax lost his mind: all the moral borders were broken and he was striving to push his erected member into your hot, wet place. Afterall, you were a woman in the first place, so it was nothing wrong in sharing the bed with you and making you bear his children.

It was hastily and clumsily, as arousal and thrill of being caught took over both of you. Ajax pulled down his pants quickly; you felt the tip of his cock pressing to your entrance. It was more painful than you expected it to be, so you bit on your index finger to ease that stinging feeling.

“Please, relax…” you heard your brother's husky voice. You did as he asked, and Ajax showed more of his member into you. It was hard not to cry, as it felt like you were about to split in half from this burning and stinging ache. Ajax's lips were trembling, as he was close to climax already.

You kept silent when Ajax started bucking his hips into yours. The process wasn't pleasurable at all and left you praying for it to end soon. Ajax, unlike you, couldn't keep his voice inside his throat, and moaned quietly: your quivering wet walls wrapped him around, sucking his cock deeper inside your womanhood. He had never felt more pleasure in his life. It didn't take long for Ajax to cum, staining your walls with his seed.

The following fuss went in a shy and wordless atmosphere. You left to clean yourself up, and Ajax stayed in the room to fix the bed. Intimacy proved to Ajax that you loved him the way he loved you – and your relationship should result in a marriage. He was ready to marry you right now, but it was impossible to his own regret. Demons suggested Ajax take you to another village and introduce you as an orphan to a priest, so the marriage would be possible. His mood lightened – it was the first time those devils recommended something good to him.

You came back and curled on the bed, as your lower tummy still disturbed you. Ajax hugged you and fell asleep right at the moment, soothed by your warmth. Your brain was restless. For demons it was a triumph, you thought. Despite the fact that this night was calm, you still felt their presence. They were a part of your normality, so you tried to think positively of them. It was very convenient to have servants like them, probably: all the dirty and impossible work was on their shoulders and they couldn't say no.

You snapped out of your cogitation. You got an awareness that it wasn't your thoughts. They belonged to your head, but were planted in here artificially. You knew yourself well enough (at least you thought you were) and it wasn't in your character to have such destructive ideas. You didn't want to end up like Ajax – losing yourself over uncontrollable animal impulses that were implied to him by demons. They were trying to take control over you, you were sure, and Archons did nothing to protect you, which led you to a painful question – was there any point in praying to someone, who didn't respond to you? Slowly you started to understand your grandmother, and it sent shivers down your spine.

To calm down you got out of bed and came to the window. Looking out, you saw the Moon. It was unusually bright today, you could see its surface in detail out of your window. It was exciting, for a moment you forgot how to breathe, beholding celestial beauty. Was it possible to reach it? You never heard of experiments of entering outer space, but you were sure it was possible. Why didn't Archons try it? Or, maybe, there were experiments, but in your obscure village no one heard of it. You sighed heavily. You were jealous of Capital citizens, they had everything on their plate by birthright. Ajax promised you that he would find a school for you in the Capital, but you were sure it wouldn't happen. He would be a regular soldier, no one would even think about doing him favors at the beginning of his career. If only you had access to actual knowledge and science… you brushed it away. You had enough disappointments in your life and didn't want to focus on sadness before going to bed.

Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, you saw a green lightning in front of you. It disappeared before you could react, and something fell on the floor, making a sound of fallen glass. You picked up what turned out to be a trinket, something similar to a pendant by its shape and design, but it lacked a chain.

Shadows in the room started shifting chaotically.

“What happened?!” Ajax jumped on the bed, aware of a strange sound. He quickly made it to the window and looked out, then he rushed about the room. “I heard something.” Ajax was turning his head, his eyes peering into the darkness.

“I don't know…” You came to him and showed the find. “It appeared here.”

“A Vision!” Ajax exclaimed and covered your hand with the trinket. “You should hide it, okay? Don't let someone see it.”

“Why? Is it bad?” You got scared and wanted to throw it away, thinking of it as some kind of cursed treasure.

“No. I don't know what you wished for, but Celestia found your desire worthy of attention and granted you Vision. It allows you to manipulate a certain element of nature,” Ajax took his hand off and looked at it. “Dendro, in your case. I have one too. Mine is Hydro.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” You spoke with an offended tone. You thought Ajax would share such a great thing with you, but he chose to conceal it.

“I was told not to. I'm sorry, dove.” He got a guilty face and scratched his head. “But it means we became even closer! You and I both have extraordinary powers. I'll teach you how to use them.”

“I thought we were close enough already. Thanks, I guess.” You looked at the Vision again and decided to hide it in the same spot with the diary.

You had no idea on how to use it and why you needed it, but at the same time it gave you a hope – if Celestia counted you as worthy, then your future was determined to be interesting and wasn't bonded with this gloomy village.

One day was left until the set date. You thought parents would prepare some kind of celebration or a farewell dinner, but nothing was done. Everyone took it as a natural part of his life, as if nothing had to happen. You were puzzled, until you realized: for them Ajax's enlistment in the Fatui was a shame. Instead of saying proper goodbye to Ajax and spending time with him, father brought his friend, Pavel Korneevich, into the house and introduced him as your groom to everyone.

You could swear: you physically sensed the immediate tension and confusion coming from Ajax. Your opinion wasn't welcomed, so you stayed silent, afraid to stand up for yourself. You weren't just shocked – you were scared to death. All your dreams for a happier life were about to be broken with a marriage.

It was scandalous: Pavel Korneevich was old enough to be your father. You were indecently younger, yet it didn't stop father from bringing this man into his own house. With this gesture he showed how little respect for you he had had, and the scanty amount of good things he had ever done to you was immediately forgotten by you. That grain of love you had for him was destroyed and turned into pure hatred. But Pavel Korneevich… How could he even think about marrying you? He was out of his mind, if he thought of you as a suitable wife for himself.

“Is this some kind of a cruel joke?” Ajax's aura gave you shivers. His tone was serious, yet soft and sickly sweet, while his slightly narrowed eyes were fixed on the guest and father. “Don't you dare to put a ring on her while I'm out. I want to see my dear sister walking down the aisle with my own eyes.”

Ajax's words didn't make sense and you hoped that he said it only to win time. Ajax stood behind your back and put his heavy hand on your shoulder, that almost broke at the weight and a tight squeeze that he gave you. You portrayed a labored, trembling smile.

“Of course,” Pavel Korneevich nodded. “We need no rush in such things.”

“Sure,” Father grunted, munching on his wrinkled dry lips. “You are free to go. We have business to discuss.” Then he looked at you and, without calling your name, addressed you. “Pasha will talk to you later.”

On numb legs you made it to your room, Ajax following you like a shadow. As soon as you entered the private area, you cried out and fell on your knees, helpless and miserable. All he could do was hold you in his arms and remain silent.

A familiar shadow appeared in front of Ajax, waiting for instructions. Ugly, ridiculously slim and tall, the demon in the shape of a man with a pig's nose was looking right into Ajax's soul. A second shadow, small and stout, showed up right near the first one: the same pig nose, but also small sly eyes. It was too late to pray, so Ajax made an order – to ruin the wedding and kill Pavel Korneevich, but his death should seem natural. By sinister smiles that bloomed on twisted faces and revealed sharp, abnormal teeth, Ajax figured out that the order was taken. They disappeared to prepare their nasty trap.

“Worry not, dove,” Ajax nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “I'll take care of it. Your brother will never leave you. I'll always be here to help you.”

On the contrary, Ajax's words made you feel even worse than you did before: dragged away from his home, he would think about you without the opportunity to communicate with you properly. You wanted to disappear, to dissolve, to stop existing in a physical way only to escape from this agony. If not Pavel Korneevich, then somebody else would be chosen as your groom. Parents wouldn't miss an opportunity to get rid of you. What could you do?

“Take me with you!” You clutched at the collar of his shirt, your gaze crazy behind the clumped lashes and redness of the eyes. “Take me with you, or I will run away!”

Ajax hardly endured your emotional breakdown. Your broken voice and hysterical ideas were impossible to listen to; at this point he wished for the night to come sooner and take him from this cursed house – he didn't tell you that Fatui would take him in the night to avoid unwanted attention. Ajax stayed until you cried yourself to sleep. The last day with you was meant to be tragic, for his own regret. When the clock struck midnight, Fatui appeared in the yard, waiting for him. Mother gave Ajax a heartless kiss at his cheek, and father remained uninvolved. Ajax left without looking back not to torture his soul. For the first time of his life he found calmness.

The gate grated, soldiers in heavy boots left, leaving deep footprints on the snow; a small lamp went out inside the house. The moon was unusually bright, its agily light oozed into the house through every crack. Your room was filled with moonlight, making it as bright as day. In your dreamless sleep you heard someone calling your name, and your body, hit by impulses, stood up on its own, pursuing the voice; step by step you made it to the front door.

The door opened on itself and closed, when you walked out. Your bare feet touched the snow; it melted from your heat. A bigger celestial body closed the Moon, causing the eclipse and hiding all the blissful light that Illuminated you. You felt like falling: the horrifying hungry maw of abyss opened under your feet, swallowing you into the darkness and covering your body with snow. You opened your eyes and saw nothing. You landed on the stone floor, all your body responded with pain.

It was a big room with just one chair and a burning fireplace. Cold walls of unknown color were hidden in the dark, as well as other spaces of the room. You heard steps and a woman appeared in front of you. She had long white hair and manic crimson eyes. Her expressionless face scared you.

“This must be a joke.” She smiled to herself. “How could a worm like you deserve the Forgotten God's blessing? This is ridiculous.” She turned back on her heels. The cape on her bony shoulders followed her moves, and you noticed dozens of death masks that froze in scream on the hemline.

“Where am I?!” Your voice broke on scream. It couldn't be that the nightmare from your grandmother's shack found you in Morepesok.

The woman sighed irritably. “He had one job – yet he failed. You are in the Abyss. The power you stole from your brother brought you there.”

“I want to go back.” You stated. Unusual hardness in your voice made the woman laugh. “This ain't funny! I'm tired of these devilish tricks I'm being involved in! I swear this time I'll fight you instead of running away!”

“Then fight.”

At an impossible speed she made an attack that struck you into your shoulder and made you fly to the nearest wall. You couldn't breath at the pain you felt – it seemed like your clavicle, scapula and ribs were crumbled into tiniest pieces. You were opening and closing your mouth with no sound, just like a fish that was taken out of water and left to die on the surface. It was a pure shock that paralyzed you and concentrated your brain on the inhuman pain.

The woman sat in the chair and looked at the fireplace, as she immediately lost her interest in you. You didn't know how much time had passed since you were left to suffer, but it felt like decades to you before you were able to stand up.

“You possess great power, yet I bet you know nothing about it. That's why you should think before stealing.” She spoke, watching the fire. “I heard a prophecy about brother and sister, who would free us from the shadows we were trapped in and restore the ancient order. It doesn't matter anymore – deep inside I stayed skeptical, and it proved that all prophecies are lies. Look at your right hand.”

You did as she said and staggered. One of your wrists was abnormal: your fingers, palm and veins got black, traces of the same color ascended until your elbow.

“I'll teach you the concept of ritual – that's the starting point of your journey. Then, you will be on your own.” She let out a short chuckle, full of sadistic anticipation.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fic #genshin impact smut #childe x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x reader smut #childe smut #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader

62 notes · View notes

homeofatlas · 3 months

Text

You Called

Authors note: I was truly inspired and had to write this. Also all the physical touch in my fics can you tell what my primary love language is? Also if i wasn't writing fanfic for a female athlete you'd be able to tell i'm gay from all the "I like you" "like platonically?" in all my fics. Anyways enjoy and have a good week!

Word Count: 1.2k

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It’s 10:30 pm when Elisa texts you. You’re used to receiving messages that say “this reminded me of you” or the occasional meme but this was out of the ordinary. You’d been close friends for a year and while you knew how close you two were, you honestly thought she would have gone to someone else if she needed them. When you needed someone to calm you down she was the person who stayed with you but that was because she was the one who brought you the most comfort. Typically when Elisa got riled up the team was always there to help her. So when you got a text late at night from her asking if you could come over, you were worried.

You swear you’d never gotten ready so fast in your life. Throwing on the closest pair of acceptable but comfortable pants you found and a sweater you walk so fast to the car you’re basically sprinting. Through this process she texts you asking when you’ll get there, as soon as humanly possible if you can do anything about it. If you could go any faster without breaking laws you would, you’re debating even breaking those laws. She needs you right now and there’s nothing that will keep you from her. Pulling up in front of her apartment you park and get out of the car. Texting her that you’re there the closer you walk to the door way you can see she’s already in the lobby waiting for you. Head hung low and hands stuffed deep in pockets. It's so far from her usual demeanour, you know something is very wrong.

Walking up to the door as you begin to pull she’s pushing it open and helping you in from the cold. The first look into her eyes tells you how bad it is. She greets you with a hey but it’s different from her usual ones and you can see how stressed out she is. Before you can say anything you hug her and pull her into you. Sometimes there aren’t any words that are more comforting than being held. As you pull away she begins to speak.

“Sorry I called so late I needed someone and I got into a fight and I should have left it alone but I didn’t and I need a distraction-”

“Elisa, even if you just wanted to hang out I would have come. I’m here when you need it. That’s what friends are for.” It breaks your heart a little to say those words but it’s true. Even if your feelings aren’t purely platonic it is what good friends do for each other.

Her shoulders sag with relief as you two wait for the elevator. She asks you how your day was despite having been together only 5 hours ago. You link your arm through hers to continue offering her comfort while you chatter away so she has something else to focus on. Coming into the apartment you take off your coat and sit on the couch ready to talk with her about what happened or happy to speak about anything else. She joins you on the other side of the couch.

“Why don’t we put on a movie? That’s always a good distraction.” You say.

She nods silently. You pick one of your favourite comfort movies and beckon her to come closer to you. She lays her head down on your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her so you can draw soothing shapes on her shoulder. You know she’ll want to talk about it and right now you can’t push her. The best thing to do right now is be there for her and let her know she has someone.

You feel her intake of breath to speak before you hear her.

“I can’t believe you actually came.” She says sitting up and looking at you.

You shrug and struggle to keep looking at her, if you don’t get a grip she’ll know you love her.

“You called.”

She continues to look at you with an unreadable expression. Sometimes you feel like you know her better than yourself and other times you feel like you don’t understand her at all.

“Sometimes,” She starts and licks her lips as if trying to convince herself to say what’s coming next. “I wish I had a coping mechanism I knew would soothe me like drugs or a cigarette. But sitting here talking to you I realized I do have a coping mechanism to soothe me when I'm distressed. It’s talking to you, it’s looking into your understanding eyes, it’s the way you know without me saying anything,” She pauses, hanging on the last word. “It’s you. I need you.”

She’s looking at you with the most vulnerable expression you’ve ever seen on her. Elisas energy often feels raw and powerful, like she’s made of passion, the storm clouds, and metal. You can feel the truth spilling out of her. She’s so good in her soul, she’s the realest person you’ve ever met.

Her hand reaches out to grasp yours on the couch and swipes her thumb back and forth on it. Her other hand hooks around the bend of your knee dragging you closer to her until your legs are practically across her lap. She bumps her forehead into yours gently, nuzzling the side of your head. Coming back to your face she nudges your noses together so the bridges slide across each other. A shiver goes down your spine. You can feel the burning heat of her palm on your thigh. Damn her, she knows how you love it’s one of your favourite things about her but right now it’s really biting you in the ass. You can’t do this if she doesn’t like you too. You can’t know what this feels like if you can’t have her, it’ll ruin you. It’ll make you sick to know what you might’ve had. You put your hand on her chest keeping her where she is.

“Don’t kiss me if it’s because of the heat of the vulnerable moment Elisa because I won't come back from this. I’ll fall in love with you.” Oh it’s all falling out now. “If I know what you feel like- what you taste like i’ll dream of you. No worse I’ll think of you. I’ll never escape you so please don’t if you don’t mean it like I do.” You finish pleading. You never thought you'd be begging her not to kiss you. But everything you’ve said is true. Except you’re already in love with her. You’d do anything for her. Your breath has stalled in your lungs. Breathing feels like your lungs are coated in molasses. It’s so much work to get your chest to breathe up and down.

Elisas paused. Oh god oh no, you’ve gone and ruined everything all of it you shouldn’t have said anything-

“What part of I need you didn’t you get?” she murmurs, lips ghosting above your own.

“Oh.” Your breath punches out of you. You hadn’t realized that was Elisas idea of a confession. You’d think back on it but you’ve got the rest of your life to do that and right now there is a hot french football player who wants to kiss you so it’ll have to wait. You push your lips together and it’s better than anything you imagined. Because she’s actually here warm and solid beside you, hands coming up to your waist. Your hands on her neck bringing her closer to you. Everything falls out of your head except one thought, I love you.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #wlw #élisa de almeida

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claymoresword · 1 year

Text

I Choose Her | Chp: 10

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: hermione x reader

Wordcount: 4.6k

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, smut, nsfw, top!reader, strap on use, g!p (kind of)

Note: right off the bat im just gonna warn u the smut in this one is kinda filthy ??? admittedly i got a little carried away im sorry

but same as last time i added asterisks before it so feel free to skip it if u want!

once again i just want to thank u guys for all the kind words and love shown on this story so far. i love reading your thoughts, it's actually one of the best parts of sharing my writing :) so yeah don't hesistate to comment if u want to! i read them all

alright that's it! i hope u enjoy this one <3

taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @coralieesau @blackbirdv98

It’s been a little over a day since you left your parents home with no word. You could only hope Draco was covering for you like he promised. Although no death eater has stormed the burrow looking for you yet, you took that as a good sign.

You glanced at your watch, you had been waiting for Hermione for about half an hour now. Being ready in fifteen minutes seemingly gave you no real advantage as you’ve been stuck waiting in the living room with Harry.

“Have you found out where he’s hidden the other hocruxes?” Harry blurts out, after moving to stand next to you.

“What?”

You asked, but the truth is you heard him the first time. What bothered you was his insistence on having this conversation now.

Harry doesn’t repeat himself, merely raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“No, I haven’t.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you grow increasingly irritated.

“I've only been at it for three days mate, will you relax?”

“We are running out of time.”

You don’t care for his tone. If he wanted to work together he’d have to start addressing you a lot nicer than that.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat, stepping closer to him.

Fred shoots you a look from across the room and you quickly realise other people were witnessing your squabble.

Feigning a warm smile in return, your hands moved to Harry’s tie, you began fixing it for him.

His poor attempt at a Windsor had been bothering you all evening

“Look, I have an idea of where they might be but I need to be certain. Give me a few more days.” You whisper, hands moving to his collar straightening it up.

Harry only nods but doesn’t break your gaze.

Just like that, there was no trace of hostility between the two of you. Harry’s short temper was a direct result of his fear, you could see that now.

“Thanks.” Harry says sincerely and you appreciated it. Perhaps you have been too harsh on him yourself.

“7 years at Hogwarts Potter and you never properly learned how to tie a tie?” You quipped.

Harry lets out a huff in amusement but he wasn’t given the opportunity to respond.

“Were the two of you about to kiss?”

Ginny remarks as she walks in, standing next to Harry. He wraps his arm around her waist.

You scoffed.

“Yes actually you’ve interrupted a very intimate moment.”

You mostly joke but the fact is that was the nicest interaction you’ve had with Harry since knowing him.

Ginny says something in response but you’ve stopped listening due to the sight before you.

You watched as Hermione came down the stairs, looking more elegant than you’ve ever seen her.

Your mouth fell agape, you didn’t think it’d be humanly possible for anybody to look this stunning.

Your girlfriend notices your expression and grows self conscious under your gaze, she looks away shyly.

Stepping forward you quickly held the side of her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

You continued to take in her appearance after your lips left hers. Not attempting to conceal your awe.

“Alright, stop that. You’ve seen me wear this dress before.” Hermione says, placing her hand against your chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world.” You whisper earning a real smile from Hermione.

The blush creeping up to her face only urges you to capture her lips into another kiss.

“Look at that–” Ginny shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Hermione enters the room and all of a sudden we’re invincible.”

“Anyway, we need to get going. We’re late.”

She says aloud but you make no effort to acknowledge her.

Instead you move to plant a kiss against Hermione’s jaw. You hear her giggle before she speaks.

“Come we’re late, let’s go.” Your girlfriend says intertwining your hands.

You oblige, letting her guide you to the front door.

“Unbelievable.” Ginny scoffs.

“Are were sure Hermione didn’t enchant her? I’ve never seen anyone behave like that unless they were under a love potion.”

“No it can’t be, love potions wear off.” Harry answers and you roll your eyes.

They can’t be serious.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Standing next to Hermione you watched as the bride and groom entered the tent. Everyone making their way to congratulate the newlyweds. In this moment they seemed immeasurably happy and it makes your chest hurt.

Considering everything going on in the world right now true happiness was difficult to come by. Everyone seems to be clinging onto any semblance of it they have at an attempt to remain sane.

You feel Hermione hold your arm tighter, almost like she read your mind. Bringing her palm up to your lips you placed a tender kiss against it.

You held her hand in yours as you slowly guided her to the dance floor.

Releasing it you stepped away from her before you spoke.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You asked, holding out your hand dramatically.

Your heart flutters at the sight of Hermione laughing as she takes your hand.

“Yes, you may.”

Your hand finds her waist and for awhile the two of your slow danced in comfortable silence.

The sound of Hermione sighing ends your moment of bliss.

“What is it?” You ask and Hermione lifts her head off your shoulder to look at you.

She then shifts her gaze and you take it as a sign to look over your shoulder.

You find Ron standing a few feet away, a drink in his hand. He looked miserable.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be annoyed. Hermione had shot him down years ago and yet he still couldn’t let her go.

You leaned in to whisper into Hermione’s ear.

“I thought he was with Lavender?”

Your girlfriend shakes her head before speaking.

“No, they broke up.”

“Again?”

She was a little intense but you thought they worked together, somehow.

“I hate seeing him like that. I feel terrible knowing I can never like him back the way he wants me to.”

Hermione has never shared this with you before. Although, it made a lot of sense.

Ron had been her friend since first year and they practically grew up together.

“I understand. Though that sounds like something he has to navigate on his own. You’ve told him the truth about your feelings. I don’t think there’s anything else you can do.”

“I know, it’s just unfair.” Your girlfriend rests her head against your shoulder again.

After a long silence, you speak.

“If you want, I have somebody I can set him up with. After all of this is over.”

Hermione raises her eyebrows in shock and you can’t deny how much you’ve also surprised yourself.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Ofcourse, I don’t want him to be miserable. I mean I’m not totally devoid of empathy.”

Hermione reaches up to run her fingers through your hair, her longing gaze made your knees weak.

“Thank you.” She leans in to kiss you but you are interrupted by a noise in the distance.

A blue light suddenly appearing inside the tent, the both of you walk closer to get a better look.

A voice emerges from it that sends a chill down your spine.

“The ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead.”

“They are coming.”

The last message echoes and you feel a searing pain in your arm.

The dark mark suddenly pulsing uncontrollably, you winced in pain.

Hermione quickly notices.

“Y/n, what is it? what’s wrong?”

A loud crash in the distance prevents you from answering.

Another crash followed by screams and the both of you quickly realise what was happening.

“Hermione!” Ron rushes over, attempting to pull her away but she doesn’t budge.

Pleading with her eyes, your own were quick to well up with tears.

“I can’t come with you–” You attempt to pry her hand off you.

“Go. I’ll find you. I promise.”

Your girlfriend hesitates and another scream makes her flinch.

“Hermione, please. Go.”

You watched as Harry grabbed her other hand, the three of them dissaparating.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You waited a few hours longer than intended to return home. That feeling of dread in your gut only festered the longer you procrastinated.

You decided to just rip off the band aid.

Stepping through the front door, as expected, you are greeted with a slap across the face.

Holding your face that is now stinging you meet your mother’s gaze.

She is fuming.

“Where the devil have you been!”

“I left to get some air–”

“For two days?” She raises her voice.

“I’m sorry mother I should have asked you first.”

“Yes, you should have.” She steps closer, your back now pushed up against the door.

“When are you going to start taking this seriously?”

“You are a death eater.” Your mother pokes your chest to the point of pain.

“Your only job is to serve.”

“If the Dark Lord finds out you have other commitments he will kill you. Do you understand that?”

You kept your gaze fixed to the ground as you nodded.

The look she’s giving you is deadly and not something you’ve ever gotten used to.

Your mother reaches out and you flinch for a moment before feeling her light touch against your cheek. With her thumb she stroked gently at the same spot she had hit you just moments ago.

“Come. He is waiting.” Placing her hand on your back she guides you to the living area.

As you entered the dining hall, you took note of the heaviness in the air. A darkness that caused you to feel deeply unsettled.

Numerous death eaters were sat at the dining table. Catching Narcissa’s gaze she smiles at you kindly and you reciprocated. Her innate tenderness was a rather chilling contrast to the vibe in the room.

Every seat had been filled except for the one next to Voldemort.

The Dark Lord flashes you a grin and his is one that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand.

“Ah, y/n our new recruit. So glad you could join us today. Come.”

He beckons you over. Walking closer he quickly gestures to the seat next to him.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” You barely manage to choke out, your stomach turning.

Glancing at the ground you watched as a large anaconda slithered underneath the table.

That thing could easily kill a fully grown human if it wanted to.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Now where is Dolohov? He should have been back with the boy hours ago.”

A beat passes where nobody answers and Voldermort slams his fist against the table causing everyone to flinch.

“My Lord, we found Dolohov in muggle London with his memory wiped. I am afraid the boy got away.”

“So what I’ve come to understand is that I sent my best death eaters to retrieve him and not one of you succeeded?”

Voldemort abruptly stands from his seat.

“Can anybody tell me where he is?”

Silence.

“Severus?”

It was only then you realised the Professor had been sat across from you.

“My guess is he still hiding out in London, my lord.”

Bellatrix can be heard clearing her throat before she speaks.

“I’d like to volunteer myself. I will kill the boy.”

“As much as I admire your bloodlust Bellatrix, he must be brought to me. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.”

“Yaxley, Thorfinn find the boy. Search every inch of the city if you have to. Do not return empty handed.”

Yaxley stands to take his leave but the other death eater does not move from his seat.

“Forgive me my lord but I have just returned, if only if could be allowed some rest–”

Voldemort walks over to him without a word and the air in the room stills.

“Avada Kadavra.”

The flash of green dissipates as quickly as it appeared and you watch as Thorfinn slumps back into his seat, motionless.

The Dark Lord lowers his wand and you release the breath you were holding.

Feeling your entire body tremble, you suppressed the urge to flee.

“Would anybody else like to rest?”

More silence.

“I will go with Yaxley, My Lord” Greyback states already getting up from his seat.

“Very well.”

“Nagini, come. Dinner.”

The snake slithers out from underneath the table.

The noises of bones crunching as it devoured Thorfinn whole would be haunting your sleep for nights to come.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Three weeks since you’ve last seen Hermione. The longest you had ever been apart from her and it is starting to take a toll on you.

“Y/n– did you hear what I just said?” Draco says snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Just forget it.” Draco grumbles, going back to practicing his spells.

“You know, as hard as I try I can never cast a Patronus.”

“How’d you cast yours? What’s your happiest memory?”

Your bestfriend asks and you aren’t able to control the tears welling up in your eyes.

All of a sudden, you had your head in your hands, your entire body wracked by sobs.

“Woah– what did I do?” Draco asks frantically, taking a seat next to you.

You fail to answer and he places a hand on your back soothingly.

“It’s Hermione isn’t it.”

“I don’t understand, if you’re this miserable just go and see her again.” Draco says and you lift your head to look at him.

“I can’t, if my parents find out–”

“I already got in trouble last time.”

Draco stays silent for a moment and you accepted it to be the end of the conversation but he continues.

“You don’t have the trace on you anymore, you know you can just lie.”

“Your problem last time was not having a solid alibi. Just tell them you’re staying with Pansy for a few nights and ask her to corroborate for you.”

You found his cavalier tone amusing.

“You seem to know a lot about this Draco– speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs.

“Wait do you have a secret muggle girlfriend or something?”

Draco’s face contorts in disgust and you let out a laugh.

“I just enjoy my time away. My parents– well my father, he can be a lot.”

You nodded placing a hand on his knee

“I get it.”

He pats your back in response.

“Well, are you gonna see her or what?”

“Yeah, actually I will.” Standing up, making your way over to the desk.

You had to send an owl to Pansy first.

“Thanks.”

Draco gives you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

════════════════════════════════════════════

You apparated to the forest of dean. Skeptical at first but quickly remembered Hermione telling you about how she’d come to the forest often with her parents. It made sense why she’d pick it as a hideout.

Looking around you don’t manage to spot anybody, seemingly you were alone.

“Revelio.”

A shot in the dark.

You casted the spell hoping that Hermione or anyone would show themselves.

The veil now lifted you let out a breath of relief when you spotted a tent in the distance.

Stepping through the barrier you lift up your wand again, re casting the protective enchantment.

You begin to make your way towards the tent but you’re stopped by a figure running up towards you.

You quickly recognised to be Ron.

He points his wand, not making an effort to lower it even after realising it was you.

“Oh.”

You notice his shoulders sagged at the sight of you.

Ron, still as charming as ever.

“Good to see you too Weasley.”

“Is my girlfriend here?” You ask without referring to Hermione by name on purpose.

Its been far too long since you antagonised him.

Hermione seemed to have overheard your voice as she soon emerges from the tent.

Practically sprinting towards you, she throws herself into your arms.

If your feet hadn’t been firmly planted on the ground you definitely would’ve fallen backwards and brought her down with you.

“Hey, baby.”

Your hand stroking her back instinctively.

“I was afraid I’d ever see you again.” You hear her voice shake and you leaned back, urging her to look at you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You reached forward, wiping away her tears as you spoke.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again, please.”

“Never again. I promise.”

Hermione leans in to place a quick kiss against your lips, your attempt to deepen it was halted by her hand on your chest.

She glances at Ron uncomfortably and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

He somehow always had to be there, lurking.

She grabs your arm before intertwining your fingers, guiding you closer to the tent.

“How’d you even find us.” Ron says walking ahead of you.

“That’s for Hermione and I to know and for you to find out.”

You smiled at him brazenly, making every attempt now to infuriate him. Ron rolls his eyes before turning around to make his way inside the tent without another word.

It seems you have won this round.

════════════════════════════════════════════

“Say, exactly how many spare tents do you have in that bag of yours Hermione?”

The both of you lowering your wands as soon as the corners of the tent finally stands upright like they’re supposed to.

“I brought two just in case.”

Thanks to your girlfriend’s tendency to be overly prepared, the both of you would get some privacy tonight.

“Food’s ready, guys.” Harry calls out and you made your way to sit by the fire.

You began eating your meal in silence until Ron came over to sit across from you.

“Good, you’re eating.” Ron says to Hermione and you catch her shooting daggers at him.

You copy your girlfriend’s expression but instead yours was directed at her.

“You haven’t been eating?”

Hermione focuses her attention on the food on her plate.

“Sweetheart, you can’t–” You paused.

Suddenly cautious of the fact that the boys were listening in on your conversation.

Harry notices and quickly turns to Ron, he began making aimless remarks about the food.

You may disagree on a lot but you appreciated his ability to pick up on social cues.

“Hermione I don’t want to have to worry that you aren’t taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“I’m sorry I left you worried but please think of yourself too.”

Hermione pursed her lips nervously.

“You’re right I’m sorry– but you have to promise me the same.”

“Whatever happens to me, you’ll look after yourself.”

You almost forgot how shrewd Hermione can be. A smirk forming across your face, you nod.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were sat on the makeshift couch in the tent. Hermione was sitting with her back against the armrest, her legs outstretched on your lap.

You had been flipping through a book in silence before a sudden realisation washed over you.

“Hang on– did Harry have the sword with him in the chamber of secrets?” You asked.

Hermione’s eyebrows knitted together before she responded.

“Yeah. That’s how he killed the basilisk.”

“You told me once he destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang?”

Hermione nods still not following your train of thought.

“Merlin’s beard.” You gasp.

“What?”

You handed the book you were reading to Hermione, pointing at a specific line on the page.

“Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade. The sword of Gryffindor only takes it in, which makes it stronger.”

She reads aloud.

“That’s why–”

“Dumbledore left it to him in his will.” She finishes your sentence for you.

You smile broadly and Hermione reciprocates.

“We find the sword and we can destroy those hocruxes, Hermione.”

“We need to tell Harry.”

You attempt to stand up, pushing her legs off your lap but she swiftly pins you down with a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk to Harry right now.”

Hermione moves to straddle you. Her core flush against your groin. Your hands move to her waist, holding her in place.

“No? What do you feel like doing instead?”

The tone of your voice matching the look Hermione is giving you.

She gives you no verbal response instead she leaned in, kissing you with unrestrained hunger.

Her tongue entering your mouth almost instantly, the heat stirring in the pit of your stomach only grows hotter when you feel Hermione grinding against your lap.

Your hands quickly finds the hem of her shirt, Hermione lifts up her arms allowing you to take it off her.

You trailed wet open mouthed kisses, starting at her jaw then her neck and eventually settling at her chest.

Wasting no time in taking her nipples into your mouth.

Hermione grips a handful of your hair as she lets out a moan.

Her hips moving harder against you. The warmth emanating from her core was driving you insane.

“Take this off.” You practically growled as you tugged at her sweatpants.

Hermione obeys without question immediately getting off you to take her pants off.

You quickly removed your own shirt, along with your slacks.

You were undressed in record time, clearly a result of being away from Hermione for three weeks.

Hermione is back on your lap, crashing her lips against yours. She kisses you hungrily, all teeth, tongue and aggression.

You move to lift her up but she pins you down again.

You watched as she grabs her wand, only registering what she was about to do when she waves it over your groin.

The familiar flesh coloured shaft forming, your breath catches in your throat.

Hermione holds your gaze as she lifts her hand up to her mouth gathering her own saliva in her palm.

Bringing her hand back down she strokes your shaft with dexterity.

Leaning back, you let out a groan. Shocked at how good her hand felt.

“Fuck, Hermione–”

Your girlfriend quickly silences you by lowering herself onto you.

The feeling of her cunt around your shaft made you dizzy.

She felt so good.

Something about the spell Hermione used this time that made you more sensitive, or perhaps it was your involuntarily abstinence. You couldn’t say for sure.

Hermione moves against you again and you let out an unrestrained moan.

She quickly places a hand over your mouth. Pursing her own lips, your girlfriend's trying her best not to scream out in pleasure herself.

“Quiet. They’ll hear you.” Hermione scolds, removing her hand from your mouth. She moves to grip the back of your neck.

You winced at the feeling of her nails digging into your skin but you are quickly distracted by Hermione’s hips moving again.

Repeatedly lifting herself up until only the tip of your strap was inside before moving back down onto it harshly.

She is fucking herself with abandon, using your cock for her own pleasure. It was selfish and unbelievably sexy.

Hermione had her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip in between her teeth. She is trying so hard to stay silent.

You didn’t like it.

“Let them hear you, gorgeous. You sound so pretty when you cum.”

You whisper against her ear as your hands finding her breasts, kneading them.

You feel her move against your harder, you let out another moan which is quickly followed by hers.

Hermione moans out loud at every movement of her own hips and you smile triumphantly.

Your feel her clench painfully against your shaft. Her movements now inconsistent and messy, she was close.

Bringing your hand down you rubbed at her clit with your thumb. It didn’t take much for Hermione to come completely undone. She throws her head back, writhing and panting as the intense pleasure rips through her.

The sight of Hermione naked on top of you with her back arched accompanied with the feeling of you inside her was enough to make you reach your own release.

Her arms move to wrap around your neck, you held her as you both tried to recover.

“Do you think they heard us?” You joked and Hermione let’s out a breathless chuckle.

“That’s not funny. Now we’ll have to deal with Ron’s passive aggressiveness for the next few days.”

“Ah, that’s right the damage has been done. So there’s no harm in going for round two?”

You ask with no intention of waiting for an answer. You moved Hermione so that you were on top and she was laying down on the couch.

Not easing into it as you normally do, you thrust your hips harshly.

Hermione chokes out a moan in surprise, her hands moving to your back as you rutted into her.

Your girlfriend arches her back and you push her down roughly, holding her in place.

The whine that spills out of her lips only urged you to thrust deeper.

“Do you love me?” You asked, planting a kiss on her collarbone.

Hermione’s lost. She groans and you feel her clench against your shaft. You breathed in deeply suppressing your own orgasm.

“You know I love you.” Hermione barely manages to speak the sentence, she moans it.

Your hand moving to grip her throat you squeezed at it experimentally and watched as your girlfriend’s eyes roll to the back of her head.

Her hand reflexively moving to your neck pulling you lower, you had no choice but to lay your entire weight on her, causing you to push into her deeper.

Hermione moans loudly, reaching her sudden climax. You hadn’t anticipated it this time and from the looks of it neither did she.

She’s now moaning and trembling underneath you. The aftershocks of her orgasm taking its time to wear off.

She looked so breath-taking like this, you were convinced you could watch her forever.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were both in bed now, Hermione’s resting her head against your chest as you rubbed small circles against her shoulder absentmindedly.

“I have a hunch but I’m not entirely sure I’m right.”

You blurt out unsure if your girlfriend was still awake to hear you.

“What sort of hunch?”

“I overheard Bellatrix speaking to her sister, she was losing her mind over one of the other death eaters entering her vault without her permission.”

Hermione hums in response and you elaborate.

“From what I’ve noticed, for some odd reason the Dark Lord trusts her the most. I bet anything the most likely place he’d hide a hocrux would be her vault.”

Hermione sits up to look at you. Already giving you a warning look before you could continue.

“If I can just get in there without her knowing–”

“Oh absolutely not.” Hermione interjects right away and you’re not shocked.

It was worth a shot.

“She’s a cold blooded killer y/n. I don’t even want to think about what she’d do to you if you broke into her vault and did get caught.”

“My answer is no. We’ll find another way.”

#hermione granger #hermione x reader #slytherin au #harry potter #harry x hermione #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut

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