#still not over when i had to make my own book cover for mark of athena and i got points deducted bc i shldve used a ruler

[prettiestlovergirl]

DON'T STOP

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; semi-public; teasing; oral (f. receiving); light dacryphilia; established relationship; mean! mattheo; hickeys; pushing the french-speaking-mattheo agenda, but be warned my french is shit, they don't exactly teach you pet names in high school french class lol.

concept: you n mattheo are studying in the common room when he gets bored and comes up with a more interesting way to study.

a/n: this idea came to me when i was studying for my lab exam and thinking 'wow, this would be so much more fun with a mean curly haired man absolutely wrecking me' n so, here you go! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

you had been studying in the common room for what felt like hours now, really cramming for this godawful history of magic test. you were stressed out of your mind, but you couldn't risk missing a thing.

you were sitting up on the couch well into the night, your legs curled up underneath you as you continued to take notes in the silence, occasionally making a comment to yourself out loud while you worked.

you'd been so in the zone; you hadn't even noticed the second body entering into the room until you heard that familiar, deep voice in your ear.

"princesse, mon amour, (princess, my love,) what are you still doing up?" he asked, his voice a bit husky from sleep. you'd have been a bit turned on if you hadn't been so startled.

"bloody hell! you can't just sneak up on a girl like that." you hissed, setting your textbook down onto your lap while he chuckled at your startled reaction, waiting for you to go on.

"i'm still up because i have to study for this bloody test." you huffed, following him with your eyes as he walked around the couch, giving you the wonderful and incredibly distracting view of your boyfriend in those damned gray sweatpants.

"let me help." mattheo hummed, a wicked smirk growing on his face as he got himself situated on his knees in front of you. "need to get some studying in anyways." he stated, his hand gripping your ankle and tugging your forward.

"no, mattheo, stop. really, i need to study!" you whined, biting your lip as he tugged your legs out from under you. "we are gonna study, i'm just an active learner." he smirked, pressing a kiss to your ankle. "read the textbook out loud."

"mattheo..." you complained, huffing a bit as his started to kiss his way slowly up your leg. you shivered lightly, the view of him on his knees in front of you never failed to make your brain go a little fuzzy.

"c'mon princesse, (princess) need you to help me study. you don't want me to fail, do you?" he asked, giving you a fake pout as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts.

finally, you relented, just like he knew you would, and lifted your hips up for him. "bien, mon âme." (good, my soul) he smirked, sliding the fabric down your thighs and tossing it off to the armchair behind him.

if there was one thing mattheo loved, it was getting you to break so he could bury himself between your thighs. if you'd let him, he'd probably stay there forever, living in permanent pussy drunk bliss.

"start reading, princesse. (princess) thought you said you really had to study." he hummed, teasing you with his words and his fingers as he started to rub soft circles on your increasingly dampening panties.

it was sososo hard to focus with his hand on your clothed pussy, but still, you did as told and picked the textbook back up, starting to read aloud from where you left off.

you did your best to speak as clearly as possible, but it was almost impossible when his fingers pressed harshly against your covered clit.

he started rubbing the fabric into your skin, getting your panties soaked in your own arousal as your grip on the book tightened. "f-fuck!" you gasped.

"mm, don't recall fuck being in this history book, weird." he murmured, his lips pressing warm kisses along your thighs, lazily marking you all over as you let out an indignant little whine.

you glared down at him, but went back to reading aloud, doing your best to keep going through your uneven breaths. once he was perfectly satisfied with the number of marks on your thighs, he used his thumb to pull your panties to the side.

he groaned softly to himself, his tongue running along his lower lip as he admired your glistening pussy. you squirmed a bit, the cool air hitting your warm core making you stutter a bit as you went on.

"i-in the en-end, he was, uhm, unable to come out v-victorious" you stated, your voice breathy before your pretty lashes fluttered shut when his free thumb made contact with your bare clit.

"ah, ah, ah." he chided, pausing his actions but keeping his thumb pressed against the swollen nub. "can't touch you if you aren't reading, princesse. (princess) how are you gonna learn if your eyes are closed?"

"so mean..." you grumbled before letting out a gasp as he shoved two of his fingers into your pussy quickly, your eyes immediately opening again. "'m sorry, what was that?" he asked, curling his fingers up inside of you

"n-nothing! nothing, 'm sorry, nothing!" you moaned, his fingers immediately getting drenched in your arousal. "that's what i thought." he smirked, waiting for you to start reading again before thrusting them in and out.

"he had to... to f-flee━ oh fuck ━ civilization." you stuttered, your brain getting hazy again as he attached his lips to your puffy clit, happily gliding his tongue over it again and again. "from th- there, he h-had to be-become a stowaway."

he fucking loved how hard you were working, seeing how much effort it took you to get each word out only seemed to spur him on, making him speed up his fingers n suck a bit harder. "need you to speak up, princesse. (princess) really want to make sure i understand everything."

you let out a louder whine, sticking your lips out in a pout as you shook your head, your eyelids getting heavy n your breath getting all shallow. "fuck, fuck, fuck, i can't, please, i can't!" you whimpered, batting your lashes rapidly to blink away the budding tears.

mattheo let go of your clit with a wet pop, looking up at you intently while he curled his fingers up a second time. "aw look at you 'bout to cry." he mocked in faux sympathy as you looked down at him "you can and you will." he stated.

a sob finally broke past your lips as his tongue found its way back to your clit, your hips bucking and your hands tightening around the textbook.

your vision blurred, but you did your best to keep reading, your body slumped against the cushions as his tongue and fingers worked in sync to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

mattheo honestly could have stayed here forever, just devouring your messy cunt as you soaked his chin and fingers in your arousal. he lived for the way you whined and sobbed above him, loving your broken sentences.

this went on and on until finally you finished the chapter, another sob of relief escaping you as your back arched. "fuck, please, please mattheo i need to cum so fucking bad, please!" you begged, eyes squeezing shut.

"did so good f'me, princesse. (princess) so good, cum f'me." he hummed, sending vibrations onto your clit that finally pushed you over the edge, your cunt fluttering around his fingers while your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

your juices soaked him completely as he continued to suck your clit, going until you started to whine and beg him to stop, trying to squirm away from his eager lips.

"jesus..." you panted, placing a hand over your chest to feel your racing heart as you came down from your high.

"mon amour, (my love) jesus had nothing to do with your cum on my lips. credit's all mine." mattheo chuckled, that same devilish smirk on his lips.

"now, i think we should go over it one more time. just to make sure you've really got it memorized..."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

tags: @bratetteprincess , (gasp, dove reveal??? so soon??)

#☆lola writes ! #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin boys #smut #harry potter

[breadbrobin]

So i saw of a guy getting lipstick kisses on him and im just obssessed with it. I want it with Luke but maybe we could have Luke put our lipstick on to mark us with kisses? Thanks for the lovely Luke fics ;3

revenge is best served red

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!reader, from any cabin]

summary: little pranks are a great way to keep a relationship fun, and if they involve lipstick? well, neither of you are going to complain too much.

warnings: kissing, reader wears makeup (lipstick mostly stated), slightly suggestive content

word count: 786

(hiiii!! i love this request it’s so cute! thank you for the awesome request, i hope you like it!)

——————————————

one thing new campers often noticed about luke castellan were the lipstick stains on his collar and skin and the silver bracelet on his wrist, both a perfect match to your lips and your own wrist. he wore both with pride, always one to wear his heart on his sleeve and, well, your lipstick on his shirts.

you’d never tried to hide your relationship. how could you, after all, when luke stumbled out from behind your cabin with lipstick marks all over his face and you followed him not long later, makeup smudged and hair messy? that was a pretty good giveaway that you were together.

luke had always liked revenge. good, cold, sweet revenge. but you had never been a target. nope. never.

until he drew a heart with an ‘L’ in it on your cheek while you slept one night, and you went around camp as usual for three hours before you realised it was there. then all bets were off.

you wore your brightest, boldest lip looks, pressing kisses to his cheeks, to his hands to the corner of his mouth. he wore them with pride.

“you’re never embarrassed,” you’d whined to him one day.

he’d wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, smiling. “i’d never be embarrassed by you. how could i be?”

that had been enough for you to shut him up with more deep red kisses for a while.

revenge came to you one day though. cold and sweet.

you went simple. and cold. definitely cold.

a bucket of ice was tipped over luke just before he was set to start training, courtesy of you, of course. what you hadn’t expected, was getting chased by a soaked, cold, luke, and hugged tightly as the ice permeated through your clothes too. regardless, he admitted that you’d got him, and finally, you could relax. pranks had never been your strong suit anyway.

as time went on, all of that took a backseat. more than anything else, you were just… happy.

luke was, first and foremost, a picture perfect boyfriend. always opening doors for you, pressing kisses to your cheeks and lips, carrying your bags and always respecting you. but he was so annoying sometimes.

like now, as he sat on your with your makeup bag in front of him, tipped out onto your sheets.

you were sitting on the floor with a colouring book as he sorted through your products, studying some of them and swatching them on his hand and wrist. you weren’t quite sure was he was doing—you had your back to him—but whatever it was was making you slightly nervous. he hummed every now and then, either in confusion or satisfaction, you weren’t quite sure. that was the only thing that broke up the silence in the otherwise empty cabin.

“hey, babe,” he said suddenly.

“yeah?” you didn’t look back at him.

“what colour lipstick do you think would suit me best?”

you frowned and turned around, then covered your mouth with a giggle. “oh my gods.”

luke’s lips were painted in a deep red, messy and over-lined more than kylie jenner. he was smiling goofily. “what?”

“you look like the joker. and not the cool one.” you giggled, hand still over your mouth.

“so not this colour?” he grinned.

you shook your head, lowering your hand with a laugh. “no, not that colour.”

“hm…” he looked in a handheld mirror and pouted dramatically. “guess i’ve got to take this off then.”

you were about to reach for your makeup wipes when his lips landed on yours. you were confused for a moment, before you couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss as the lipstick rubbed off onto your lips and face.

he pulled away and smiled. “i see why you like doing that.”

“like doing what?” you asked breathlessly.

his thumb smeared the lipstick just below your lips slowly. “making such a mess.”

he kissed you again, slowly guiding you up and pushing your makeup aside so you were on your bed with him, then pushing you down gently so you were lying below him.

he peppered lipsticked kisses all over your face, eliciting giggles from you, and, when he finally pulled back, your face was more red and pink than anything else. he smiled down at you, his hand resting on your waist as he shifted his weight to the side. “yeah. i get it now.”

“i hate you.” you teased.

“yeah, i hate you too. but revenge is sweet. at least i’m not freezing you right now.” he grinned, his lips meeting yours again as you both laughed. you didn’t even mind that he was wasting your lipstick. with luke, nothing was a waste.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

[a-hazbin-reader]

i just had a really cute idea- What about reader after the birth of her baby with Alastor feeling a bit insecure about strech marks ? how does Alastor make her feel loved?

FUCK I LOVE THIS

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Body issues, Suggestive?

Description: ☝️⬆️

At first, Alastor doesn't even notice the insecurities you're having over your body, too busy learning how to be a proper father

No amount of parenting books could prepare him for the overwhelming love he feels for his children

It takes so much effort for him to even put his children down and leave a room- you don't understand

Bedtime is hard for papa too

But little things about you start to tip him off that something has been wrong with you lately

At first, he blames it on lack of sleep, which is something you both are becoming familiar with

Or maybe you're not eating right, too busy looking out for your babies and the hotel

He just knows that you won't hardly let him touch you anymore, something he didn't realize he craved until he was suddenly deprived of it

You're sitting and feeding the babies? He wants to kiss and nuzzle at your neck because the sight is so cute

"Motherhood looks very good on you, darling~"

At first you're receptive to it, tilting your head and sighing happily until his fingers ghost over your stomach

"Actually, can you take over for me? I have to go-do something."

And he's left alone with his just as confused looking children

Then suddenly, there's baby food being thrown at his face and his babies are howling with joy

Lovely

Maybe you're stressed, being a new mother is difficult

So he resolves to take the babies off your hands for the day, something that you're grateful for

And when he manages to put his spawns down for a nap, he even draws you a bath, thinking you two could share it

It's a romantic one, bubbles and candles all around maybe even a flower or two

"Darling, there's a hot bath waiting for you and I if you're interested..?"

You're visibly stiff again, looking uncomfortable and shy like back when you first got together with him

"Could I just have the bath to myself..?"

It wasn't what he was planning, but he could never tell you no

But it is concerning to him when you lock the door behind you

You don't even change in front of him anymore, another little bit of intimacy and trust that he suddenly misses

Then he starts to notice that the mirror in your bedroom has been covered, and new creams have appeared in the bathroom and-

Oh

Carrying babies does tend to change one's body

He's seen what happened with your own but he never thought you would become insecure about it

So Alastor, being the good husband he is, resolves to remedy the situation between you two

He crawls into bed with you one night, waiting until you're nearly asleep to wrap his arms around you

You're jolted awake in an instant, feeling his chest against your back and his hands on your stomach

Touching and stroking your stretch marks

You go to pull away but his grip is firm, keeping you in place, voice light but genuine

"You're never not going to be my beautiful wife..."

You're so thankful for the darkness of the room, you don't want him to see the tears in your eyes or the marks on your stomach

Even though a small part of you knows he can see it anyways, it's less embarrassing for you

Damn these hormones of yours, your body still hasn't fully recovered from your pregnancy

And then he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck to your chest, then down to your stomach

His hands push up your pajamas to expose your skin to him, and you can tell that he doesn't need the light to see what's there

He stops you from covering the marks, kissing them instead and gazing at you with eyes full of warmth

"You were so proud of these before..."

You have to look away from him, overcome with emotions so strong that your voice comes out thick with it

"I'm not pregnant anymore."

"As if that makes you any less beautiful, these are just marks of our history together. I love them."

And he's kissing them again, moving back up to kiss you as gentle claws rub over each stretch mark and scar

You eventually can't help but melt into his touch, having missed him more than you realized

It's a good night between you two and you wake up feeling better than you have in awhile

It's still a slow going process accepting your new body, but Alastor is patient, eager to woo his wife all over again

It's almost like you two are back to the start of the relationship

You know that part of him only loves the marks so much because it's proof of what he did for you, how far he would go to make you happy

Also, because he loves you

And soon you start to love them too, associating them with your love for your family

Eventually you two are back to bathing together, changing together, being sickeningly affectionate behind closed doors

Not always behind closed doors

And when they do start to fade you almost miss them, rubbing over the marks in longing

Looking over at your husband playing with the children, a dangerous thought enters your mind

Maybe Alastor wouldn't mind another baby or two?

Maybe more

I love these asks so much ♥️

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

OH MY GOD SPENCER GOING INTO WORK WITHOUT A WORRY IJ THE WORLD JUST AS USUAL AND EVERYONE IS STARING AND SNICKERING AND HES LIKE “what what what happened” and lil baby boy got treated so right he forgot you left hickeys all over his neck.

ahhh YES!! okay this will be very self-serving bc i am season 1 spencer's actual wife (sorry if that sounds conceited lmao) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (16+ for making out/suggestive themes)

Elle, Penny, and Morgan were always talking about their conquests, much to Hotch's chagrin. They learned to save the more risqué conversations for the bullpen when Hotch is cornered by Strauss and other higher ups.

Naturally, the conversation alway ended with playfully teasing Spencer for never having any stories about his conquests because he's knee deep in a Monday morning crossword puzzle while they talk about their late Friday nights.

Till one night, Spencer has a late night of his own. It was months in the making, Spencer still spent a lot of the time researching old cases and solving cold cases on his own in the archives department. It took him nearly three weeks to stop blushing every time he walked by your desk because you're either smiling up at him, eager to talk to him about the latest book you've both read or writing notes to slip into the stacks and stacks of paperwork from old cases he asks you to xerox.

Finally....finally. He builds up the courage to ask you out on a date. And of course it goes spectacularly. He's so charming, so perfectly handsome and sweet. It takes a couple dates for the physical aspect to meet up to the emotional aspect. But Spencer would go feral the first time you made out. You would sit yourself in his lap, loving the soft pressure of his hands on your waist.

He would be so whiny when you place your hands on his jaw, guiding him up for a kiss. Spencer would have the softest, most kissable lips that would turn so red and swollen from the slightest bit of kissing. He would be so eager, whimpering at every little touch you give him. It would boost your confidence to the max hearing him, seeing him get so flustered and eager.

Since Spencer needs some more time to adjust to the physical aspects of your relationship he would be thrilled just to mess around on the couch and then fall asleep in soft pjs wrapped up in blankets together.

Unfortunately for Spencer, he failed to realize that he didn't wear a shirt that covered the plethora of marks on his neck and collarbone. He shed his scarf, giving Derek and Elle a quizzical look when the wolfwhistle at him. He would roll his eyes, prepared for their sibling-like teasing.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the boy genius finally swiped that v-card." Elle teased, nodding Spencer's way and throwing Derek a teasing look.

"Finally, dude." Derek would say, walking over to clap Spencer on the back. "I hope you tipped her well."

Spencer would be fuming, unable to stop himself from turning red with embarrassment at Elle and Derek’s teasing. If he had a sliver of confidence he would describe in great detail exactly what happened last night, including how his girlfriend has the same marks under her turtleneck.

But Spencer isn’t a very confident man. Instead, he would have to let fate play out in his favor. Before Elle could get another quip out or Derek would snicker again, you came rushing in baked goods and coffee in tow.

“Spence! Ah,” you said, rushing towards Spencer’s desk ignoring his coworkers curious glances, “you rushed out before I made coffee. And breakfast” you placed the muffin, blueberry and lemon and the travel mug of steaming black coffee on his desk with a smile.

“Thanks,” Spencer said, bashfully looking around at Derek and Elle’s surprised faces. You kissed his cheek, the red sting of embarrassment burning into his cheeks.

“You’re going to need that coffee. We were going at it all night.”

Spencer’s eyebrow raised with worry as he saw Elle and Derek swap curious glances. Fear flooded your face, eyes full of embarrassment and regret as Spencer’s eyes melt into an unfamiliar confidence.

He placed his hand against your hip, pulling you in close for a quick, chaste kiss. He smiled too much, the kind of smile that threatens to make his muscles ache.

“Morgan, Elle, I want you to meet, Y/N. She’s the department librarian. And my girlfriend,”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

[kirbyskisses]

idk soft dom very tired jason todd has been holding my mind hostage 🫠 coming home after a long night and walking in on u devastated because u've been soaked for an hour (rip) but u can't make urself come so ur near / in tears when he finds u. i feel like u kinda hide urself from him bc he must be exhausted but also ask him to please help u maybe,,

hiiiii anon!!! sorry this took sooo long, university is kicking my ass. anyway; fem!reader, latino!jason w/ spanglish nicknames, vv soft, praise kink. i hope you like it!!! tagging: @mxonigirimiya @reveluving and @sems-diarie. also i guess this is a celebration because I JUST HIT 2K

-

“fucking hate this city.” jason mumbles, lying to himself. if he truly hated gotham he wouldn’t be working so hard to defend it. he just hates how much the endeavor takes out of him.

still, he loves many a thing about gotham - principle of all, he loves that gotham has you. his one spot of hope, his angel of light who’s always smiling away in his apartment for him like a shining beacon in otherwise dark terrain.

but this time you’re not greeting his tired body at the door. you’re not shining that heart-melting smile in the kitchen. you’re not even ignoring his presence in the living room because your head is buried a book or focused on a show or because you’re agitatedly writing a document for work.

“baby?” he calls out, voice still distorted by the red hood helmet. he shrugs and takes it off. he gives an exhausted smile up spotting the clothes that you left out for him. it comforts him that they still carry a semblance of your comforting scent - it only makes him long to cuddle you in bed.

oh! the bedroom! he almost laughs at the idiocy of not thinking to check there, slipping on the pajamas expecting to find you having fallen asleep or gotten distracted from his earlier shout by scrolling through your phone.

he doesn’t not expect to see his pretty angel bouncing frustratedly on a fake silicon cock, wearing one of his oversized shirts, fingers desperately rubbing at your chubby clit. even in the dark with tired eyes, he thinks he can make out wet spots on the covers.

he doesn’t announce his presence with anything more than a cough and a click of the lamp; immediately your glossy eyes turn to him in embarrassment.

“you look like you need some help there, sweet thing.” he gives a tired smirk when your eyes meet.

“j-jay!” your voice cracks. “i didn’t - i thought-”

“were you waiting up for me?” he yawns a bit and walks his heavy form closer to you, arms caging you in as he leans over, green eyes admiring your trembling lips.

“had a bitch of a patrol - but clearly i shouldn’t have kept my baby waiting. let me make it up to you.”

“ ‘s okay. jay you’re tired a-and it’s late.” you sigh out, still stuttering from teetering on the edge of a high, foggy brain trying to be reasonable despite your boyfriend kissing down your neck.

“ay, cariño… how long?”

“how long?” you repeat, dumbfounded and he lets out a low chuckle.

“how long have you been trying to make her cum while i was gone?”

you feel yourself gush a little bit more at how jason refers to your core like its own person. you hesitate as he sucks a mark into your neck, threads of spit connecting his lips to the bruised skin.

“tell me, baby. don’t be embarrassed.”

“a-… an hour…”

“an hour? fuck, pobrecita… ‘m gonna take care of her now, aight? spread your legs for me.”

you do as he says, as always, gaining a smirk and a kiss to your clit from your act of obedience.

“she’s crying baby.” he pulls the soaked fake toy out and tosses it. he gives a teasing, unimpressed laugh, finger rolling over the soaking bud and making you whimper.

“heh. no wonder you couldn’t get off princess with that; i’ve gotten you too used to something bigger.” you hear the fabric of his boxers drop. “usually i’d use my tongue but you’ve gone and prepped yourself for me so well, mamita.”

“please…” you sniffle, still feeling bad for bothering him. “pl-please help, i don’t - jay, i don’t wanna wait anymore.”

he shushes you - his large, battle-scarred hand gentle stroking your cheek and the other guides his fat tip to kiss your warmth.

“sshh. i gotcha, sweetheart.”

“ ‘m sorry…” you whisper out still feeling like a burden for your neediness - lengthening his already difficult night.

“no. no te preo. don’t you be sorry. you did so good, mamita, y’know that? i should be thanking you for letting me have this sweet treat.” jason makes a loud groan as he inches in.

“fuckkk… i’ll take care of ya, sweet thing. you just relax and let me do everything fr’m here.”

jason loves to feel needed. if you need him, he’s there - no matter the cost or the exhaustion.

and if he gets to sink his fat cock into a soaking wet, tight little pussy while doing so - that’s just the cherry on top.

#jason todd x reader smut #jason todd #latino jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #x reader #smut #request #kirby’s asks🌸

[agoofyannoyancetolaw]

locked

a/n: a small blurb cuz my other fic didn’t do well- also my writers block is still haunting me sooo enjoy some bad writing 👍

minors DNI

Accidents on missions happen. Usually they don’t involve getting stuck in a bunker in the blazing heat until the rest of the team, but sadly enough you and soap ended up in that exact situation.

the hot weather affected even the bunker you and soap were staying in, heavy gear and sweat, bloody, grime covered uniforms hitting the floor and tossed to the side as you tiredly slid on some boxers without thinking much about what soap would think. Him glancing over you with short gazes and glances as you sat down next to him. Your boxers tight enough to showcase your length.

hours passed by as he tiredly looked at the wall or doodled on one of the old books in the small bunker, his eyes always looking over at you and rubbing his thighs in need of any sort of friction. He couldn’t fix out the coiling heat in the back of his mind though, biting his lip to stop from whimpering. He had been on missions for so long recently that he hadn’t had time to release his pent up tension

he just needed some kind of friction! Practically rutting up against you without you even noticing until you looked over, his lip quivering from him biting it so hard

“Sorry, I guess.” soap mumbled with an eye-roll before he was cut off by the feeling of your lips against his

“all pent up, hm?” You hummed as you pinned him to the small rickety bed of the bunker, the rusty metal buckling under the weight as his hands slipped down to the elastic waistline of your boxers and tugged at them till they slipped off, messily tossing off his own.

He whimpered as he felt cold spit covered fingers slide into him, prepping him achingly slow as you kissed along his neck, making sure he could feel every single mark you left on him

he whined when he felt the cold air hit him as you slid your fingers out, but his whine was quickly replaced with a loud squeaky moan as he felt your length slide into him, his hips thrusting back to meet your thrusts with his back arching back so prettily for you, his hole clenching around you tightly as you bucked into him.

you made him feel so full, as if he could feel you in his throat every time you thrust in and hit his prostate. Feeling you chase your own release as he let out stifled whines, cock-drunkness quickly setting in and making his thoughts foggy as he spread open a bit more for you to see his hole stretched around your girth.

that view alone made your cock Twitch inside him, which made him whine and his pre dribble onto the sheets of the bed, quickly followed by ropes of cum as you bruised his prostate. He could feel your hot breath on his shoulder, and he was absolutely begging for more as your thrusts stuttered and sped up.

he could feel the warm pleasure of you painting his walls white, followed by the cold sensation of you pulling out and your cum sliding out of his hole. Adding to the mess on the bed he was laying on.

he couldn’t wait to get back to barracks so you could do this every damn night.

#coyotes_horde #call of duty x reader #cod x you #bottom character #cod x male reader #sub character #top reader #dom reader #bottom charecter #soap x you #soap x male reader #soap x y/n #soap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #x male reader #male reader #sub bottom #tw smut #gay smut #mlm smut #johnny mactavish #cant think of tags GRRR

[farity]

In friendship

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary:  Aemond’s taken you for granted until rumors of your betrothal to another begin to swirl

.

“My lady, to what do I owe the honor of your company?”

You smiled at the tall, handsome prince, dressed in black as always.  “Prince Aemond,” you were pleasantly surprised at finding him here in the library although to be honest, you had hoped he would be.  “I am researching the architecture of Flea Bottom since I am forbidden to go in person.”

“Ah.”  He placed a marker in his book and left it on one of the tables before walking toward one of the bookcases.  “I believe you can find what you are looking for right here.”

You smiled to yourself.  Oh yes, what I want is here, right before my eyes.

He reached up to grab a volume and brought it back down.  “Hmmm.  This is only the story of one of the builders.  I suppose you want detailed descriptions?”

“Yes, I’d like to do some illustrations.”

The shelf he’d plucked the book from was too high for you, so you slid the small stepstool over and the prince put out his hand to help you climb atop it.  His hand, so much bigger than yours, was warm, and you let go of it reluctantly once you were higher up.  You turned to find yourself staring down at him, the candle light making his pale hair glow like a halo.

“It’s not often I find myself looking up at you,” he murmured.  “You have a smudge, charcoal, maybe.”  He indicated the spot on his own face and you immediately brushed the back of your hand over it, but when you pulled your hand away, he shook his head.  “Let me.”

He reached out to brush the offending mark himself, brushing his fingertips lightly over your cheek, and then turned his hand so it was his knuckles now sliding down the side of your face.  

You held your breath.

You’d known Prince Aemond most of your life.  Your mother was a friend of his mother, you were only a year older than him, and were used to casual touches.  He’d offer you his arm as you walked around the keep, or you’d grab his hand in order to climb a fence.  You’d been there for him when he lost his eye and you considered him the person you were closest to other than your mother and your sister.  Spending time with him was always a highlight of your day, and as you’d both grown older, you’d felt the friendship change a little.  You’d caught him looking at you at times, and when you walked arm in arm with him these days, you were very aware of him next to you.

Your mother knew of your evolving feelings for him, and you hoped that someday she might speak to queen Alicent to work a betrothal between you two.  

He was looking at your parted lips, hand still on your face.  “My lady,” he whispered, moving just a little closer.  You inhaled the leather and spices scent of him, felt the cool peppermint of his breath on your jaw.  

“My prince.”  Your voice was a mere rush of air as you caught the look in his eye as it met yours.  There was hunger there, raw and powerful, and the next thing you knew he had stepped back.

“I wish you success in finding what you seek.”

He left you there, and for a few moments you were stunned.  He’d been about to kiss you, you were sure of it.  The sudden change in his demeanor left you hollow, and you stood there, wondering what had happened.

* * * * * 

The next day you were sitting in the gardens, absently staring at the same page you’d been looking at for the last hour without understanding a single word.

You covered your mouth as you yawned, exhausted from spending the entire night reliving every second of those few moments with Aemond.  What had happened?  What had gone wrong?

“Daughter.”

You jumped at your mother’s voice, almost dropping the book you held.

“I’ve called you three times, my darling.”

You turned to see your mother, smiling kindly at you.  

“I am sorry, lady mother, I was lost in my book.”  You joined her, and she kissed your cheek before taking your arm.  

“Darling daughter, there are wondrous news,” she said gently.  “It is a great day for our family.”

Was this it?  Had she spoken to the dowager queen?

“What news, mother?”

“You are to be married . . . “

Your heart soared and you sighed.  Everything would be set right.  You and Aemond were to be married.  Your greatest desire was about to come true.

“ . . . to Lord Cregan Stark.”

* * * * * 

You headed to the library to return the book, but when you saw Aemond sitting by the fireplace you nearly turned around.  He had seen you, however, so you steeled yourself and walked in.

“Prince Aemond.”

He turned, and you saw he had removed his eyepatch.  You had seen him plenty of times without it, one of the few people allowed that privilege -

as if it meant anything

- but the fire in the blue gemstone he wore paled in comparison to the one in his eye.  

“I am told that congratulations are in order, my lady,” he said, his tone emotionless.

“I’m only here to return this book,” you said wearily.  

He stood and held out his hand.  You gave him the book, careful to not touch him, and he walked to the bookshelf to return it to its usual place.

You turned to leave and found yourself pressed against the bookcase, the prince holding your wrists.  "Are you looking forward to meeting your betrothed, my lady?”

You tried to push him away but he barely moved, easily holding you in place.  “I do not have time for this, Prince Aemond.  I need to go.”  You didn’t look at him, simply wanting to go to the peace and quiet of your rooms.

He stepped closer, the heat of his body enveloping you.  He lowered his face to yours, whispering in your ear.  “Are you looking forward to the bedding?  To him planting a babe in your belly?”

You had tried.  The feel of him pressed against you, the scent of him, the silk of his hair as it brushed your cheek, you had tried to get away.  It was all too much and you suddenly pushed him back, startling him.  “And why in the seven hells do you care?”

Aemond opened his mouth, but you continued.  “Why do you care, my prince?  We are nothing to each other but childhood friends, is that not the case?  Why the sudden interest in the delights of my marriage bed?”

He lunged at you, one hand cupping your face, the other against the bookcase, effectively trapping you there.  He was so close, his nose against your cheek, his mouth but an inch from yours.  If you turned ever so slightly, your lips would touch his.  “Tell me, childhood friend, when you spread your legs for him, will you think of me?”

You shivered at the words, at his venomous tone.  “I might,” you spat back, “but it will be his name I sigh.”

Aemond pulled back as if you’d slapped him, eye wild with fury.  

It wasn’t enough.  You wanted blood now.

Raising your face, you whispered, “oh Cregan.  Oh Cregan!”

You saw the moment he snapped, the moment that wall he so carefully kept around himself collapsed, and briefly wondered if you’d gone too far.  

The answer was swift and punishing, and before you knew it, he’d hauled you against him, mouth devouring yours.  One of his hands held your head in place, his long fingers grabbing the tidy knot of your hair painfully, but you didn’t care.  Here was victory, here was fire, and you kissed him back, your own hands delving underneath his tunic to feel the muscles beneath.  

When he lifted you in his arms you quickly wrapped your legs around him, letting him walk you somewhere, you cared not where.  Pulling away from his mouth, you began kissing and biting his neck, sucking on the pale skin until his breathing hitched and he stumbled, crashing against the wall before continuing.  

You were now in his bedchamber, and when he placed you on his bed, you began pulling at the laces on his tunic, the ties of his breeches.  He pulled the tunic over his head, throwing it aside before pulling out his dagger and slashing through the ties on your bodice.  Some other day you might have worried about it.  Some other day you might have said something.

He bared you completely, the hunger in his eye flashing in the dim lighting of the room.  “Mine,” he whispered before shoving your thighs apart.  “Say it.”

Nodding, you complied, “yours.  As you are mine.”  The silver silk of his hair fell like curtains shielding your face from everything else, and he kissed you as he began pushing inside you.

For a moment you wondered if this would work, he felt so big, but he took his time, letting your body adjust to this new invasion.  “You feel so fucking good,” he said, desperately trying to go slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you.  

“I’ve always been yours,” you whispered as you reached up for him.  “Take me and make it true.”

With a groan, he snapped his hips, tearing through your maidenhead and seating himself fully inside you.  The pain was sharp and you cried out, your vision blurring for a moment.  Aemond stayed still, his only movement that of nuzzling your cheek.  “Mine,” he repeated softly, over and over.

You pulled his mouth to yours, and rolled your hips experimentally.  The pain was almost all gone, and you did it again, smiling when he moaned against your lips.  He pulled back slowly, “please,” he said desperately, “stop.  I can’t, I can’t-” but when you moved a third time, he gasped and began pumping his hips against you, his breathing fast and hard as he filled you completely.  He reached down and began to swirl his fingertips on the slick bundle of nerves between your legs, dragging a ragged whimper from you.

The coil low in your belly was tightening with every snap of his hips, every turn of his fingertips.  You had touched yourself before, but this, this claiming, the feel of him within you, the heat of him against you, the smell of his skin, this was new, and overwhelming your every sense.  

“Come for me,” he said, “I want to see you fall apart.”  He ran his teeth alongside your jaw and someone screamed as the coil snapped inside you, sharp tendrils of pleasure tearing through you.  You vaguely felt his body go taut as he groaned and then collapsed against you.

* * * * * 

He had a servant tell your mother you were spending the night in Helaena’s chambers.  You had done so before, whenever the princess was in need of a friend to listen to her.  

“I have been a fool, pretending I did not care for you.”  He kissed your lips so gently and tenderly, you almost wished that had been your first kiss.  

“Why did you?” you asked.  “Why did you pretend you did not care for me?”

He let out a breath.  “Because you deserve better than me.”  His voice broke on the last word, and he swallowed.  

Reaching up to touch his cheek, you smiled at him.  “Better than a fine warrior, a learned man, a loyal son?” you whispered, “a cherished friend?”

“I have been less of a friend than you deserve.”

“Aemond, I could not ask for more than you.  You are everything to me,” you added.

He leaned down to kiss you again.  “As you are to me.” He met your gaze and you saw the tears in his eye.  “I love you.  I think I always have.”  He pulled you to his side, kissing your forehead.  “Tomorrow I will speak to my mother about your betrothal.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

#jensen ackles #supernatural #spnfandom #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #dean imagine #supernatural x reader #jensen ackles imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester supernatural #Dean Winchester mini series #spn fanfic #spnfamily #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader

[writingsbychlo]

How would our drunk batboys will react with their mates ? 😭❤️

RHYSAND:

"(Y/N)!" Rhysand's sudden shout was out of the blue, enough to make you jump as you lounged on the couch, book on hand. Closing it gently after marking the page, you listened to the chaos. "Darling! My darling!"

You listened as he stumbled to kick off his shoes, the sound of material hitting the floor - his jacket failing to make it to the coat hook, no doubt - and fell into the wall.

"Where are you?"

"I'm right in here, Rhys." You finally spoke, giggling a little but the sound was quickly cut off as the man appeared before you. Facing the wrong was, his winnow brought him unsteadily right to the edge of the couch, and he spun on his heel, whipping around to find you. As his gaze landed on you, a sunshine-smile split his face. "Hello, my love."

"My darling, my mate. Hi." And with that, he gave you no time to discard your book, before he was falling down atop you, crushing the air from your lungs and ignoring your groaned complaint. "Missed you."

"You're crushing me!"

"Missed you. Say it back." He left a kiss to your neck, another on your shoulder, and you wrestled your arms free from underneath him.

"I would if I could breathe!"

Propping himself up on shaky arms, his nose bumped your own, a soft kiss brushing across your lips, and you could still taste the whiskey on his lips. "You don't normally complain this much when I'm on top of you."

"Always so full of jokes when you drink, huh?"

"I'm a comedian, darling!"

AZRIEL:

"Hi, baby, I love you," Az mumbled, smiling so wide his eyes closed and his dimples were on full display. "Hi, baby! I love you!"

"Welcome home, Azzy." You teased, raising your brows at him as he swayed a little on the spot, standing at the end of the bed. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, but I missed you."

"Do you wanna get ready for bed, and then come cuddle?" Holding your arms open, he nodded happily, making no move to actually shift from his spot, his eyes closing again.

"Saw a girl that had a purple dress like yours."

"Oh, yeah?" You sighed, trying to resist the smile tugging at your lips as you kicked off the covers, making your way over to him. At the feel of your hands on his arms, slowly trying to guide him, his gaze popped back to you. "Was it a better dress than mine? Mine is old, now."

"You wore it on our first date!" He mused, letting you guide him towards the bathroom, only to be seated on the edge of the tub, wings drooping behind him. "I'll buy you a new purple dress if you want."

"That's okay, Azzy. I have plenty of dresses." Your words were all but pressed to his ear as you leaned around him to find the catches under his wings, and he hummed happily, looping his arms around you like a hug.

"Then what should I buy you?" His arms raised up over his head as you lifted his shirt off, only to return to gripping you tightly and pulling you into his body as soon as it was off.

"Nothing, you don't need to buy me anything."

"But how will you know how much I love you?" He pouted, and you pecked his lips, the smile you loved forming again as soon as you pulled back.

"You can just tell me, and I'll believe you."

"Okay. I love you. I love you like the waves love the moon, and like the stars love the night sky."

CASSIAN:

"Well, hello, pretty lady." Cassian tried to lean on the doorframe, missing it entirely and stumbling to the side as he almost fell, and you covered your mouth, sitting up a little further to see if he was okay. "I'm all good! Nothin' can hurt me, doll, I'm strong. Wanna' see?"

At that, he pulled up the bottom of his damp shirt, flashing his defined abs and smirking.

"Touch 'em."

"That's alright, Cass." He only shook his head, dropping his shirt and wandering over to you with uneven steps. "Did that hurt?"

"Did what hurt?" He echoed emptily, eyes closing in on your midnight snack sitting on the table in front of you.

"When you just fell through the door, are you okay?"

"I don't know, did it hurt for you?" He rebutted, slumping down onto the couch, half on top of you, with part of your sandwich in hand. He was quick to tear off an excessively large bite.

"When I fell?"

"Yeah." He spoke aorund the food, choking down a half-chewed mouthful before smirking again. "When you fell from Heaven."

"Oh, my Gods, Cassian!"

He only beamed.

#q. #OR #rhys is a funny and needy drunk #az is a loved up and head empty drunk #cass is a hungry and flirty drunk

[esvcort]

cw: suggestive, nsfw, dubcon-ish(?) if u squint

author's note: my first post, woohoo!! this is literally just an idea dump, very cliché scenarios and idk what this is actually lolll

the kamisato clan's head finds out about your hobby in an unexpected way. he made the effort to finish all of his tasks for the next two days, an act to spend more time with his lovely wife, having been mostly absent for the first few months of your arranged marriage. it was late in the afternoon when he retired to your shared room, waiting for you to return from your trip to inazuma city. you picked up a hobby to busy yourself with, as he wasn't always around the estate. you have developed a liking for reading books from the yae publishing house, going there at least once a week. his eyes find your desk on the side of the room, with papers haphazardly scattered all over it. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head at your surprising messiness. in an attempt to tidy up the space, his eyes catch some words on the paper in your neat handwriting.

the fireflies had already lit up the night when you arrived. you slip off your geta when you reach the entrance of the estate. your feet are slow and quiet as you walk towards the room, clutching the newly bought books and writing materials close to your chest, afraid to disturb your husband, who must be resting at this time. your eyebrows raise in surprise as you slide the door open to reveal ayato sitting on the edge of the bed.

"my lord! why are you still awake this late at night?" the title you call him makes him smirk. he stands up from his position and stills in front of you. a smile paints his face, and your eyes automatically drop down to the beauty mark under his lips.

"i thought i told you not to call me that, sweetheart." ayato gently pried the materials from your hold and put them down on your nearby desk. an small noise bubbles from your throat as his warm and lithe fingers brush against your hand. "i am your husband, and you are my wife. i believe we're past such formalities, don't you think?" his lavender eyes stared at you as his figure loomed over your own, and he waited for your response.

"i, uh," you stammered nervously as his towering presence created an intimidating aura. you stepped backward, leaned your hands and sat slightly on the desk for support. "i didn't think we were affectionate enough for each other to cross such a line, my lord."

he laughs a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "i suppose, so. although," your heart beats faster as he slowly walks towards you, leaning in close, close enough for your noses to brush each other now and then. this is the closest you've been to ayato in the span of your marriage. the unusual proximity does wonders for you; your heart beats faster, and your senses are heightened. you can feel the warmth of his body as both of his hands cover your own, effectively trapping you against the table. your husband leans over to whisper in your ear. "i would believe you if your insistence on calling me "my lord", didn't remind me of something."

"a-and what may that be, my lord?"

"'my lord's hands slowly inch up the supple skin of my thigh under the fabric, all the while pinning me on his desk.' sound familiar, darling?" your eyes widen in shock, and a strange feeling like electricity crawls all throughout your body.

"that- it's for a book i'm writing!" you turn your head to defend silently, followed by an audible gulp.

"why didn't you tell me you were writing such a book for the yae publishing house, hmm? is that why the books you buy also have such explicit themes, sweetheart?" more embarrassment comes over you in the mention that he has seen the content of your books. you guess the additional plain paper covers you had put over them were not enough.

"well- it- it helps for reference?" you answer, unsure and embarrassed that you had just indirectly admitted your inexperience. ayato lets out a breathless laugh and smirks. he faces you and takes your chin in his hands. he looks down on you; his light purple eyes pulling you into him, hypnotizing you away.

"darling," he purrs, and the deep rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your breath gets caught in your throat when his hand moves to your shoulder and carefully pushes you down on your back on the desk.

"my lord," you call out weakly, getting lost as you feel him settle himself between your legs. his tall figure hovers above you as his hand reaches the hem of your yukata. he bends down and kisses the corner of your open mouth. the desire to be touched was consuming you.

"if you wanted reference," he bucks his clothed hips on yours and takes pleasure in the pant you breathe out. your legs wrap around his waist, feeling hot as he continues to grind down on you slowly.

"i could show you much more than what your meager book has."

likes and reblogs are much appreciated!!

#esvcort #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin ayato #arranged marriage au #esvcort drabbles

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

The Most Known Secret

Anon request:

I’ve been thinking about this for an hour. So imagine Timothée’s doing an interview and for his birthday y/n remakes his statistics video (like she plays his part) and she’s a big star actress as well. And they just have a sweet conversation about it (cause she did it in secret and he didn’t even know about until said interview)

Wordcount: 2.1K+

Masterlist

Description: It's your boyfriend's birthday but you are halfway around the world, but you still have a surprise up your sleeve. And statistically, he should love it.

A/N: Hey thank you so much for this request. It made me rewrite the statistics video a dozen times and I loved it. I'm sorry if you wanted this smutless. I just realized that you didn't ask for it. Also, this is part two of Worse Secret Kept

Warning: Smut. Phone sex, masterbation. Fluffy. Unedited.

Timmy groaned as fisted his cock to you on screen. Your giggles rang loudly through his hotel room as you watched your boyfriend lose his mind. “Come on show take it off,” he begged.

You smirked leaning closer to the camera. Which gave him a good view of your breasts spilling out of the lingerie set you were currently wearing. “I’m not used to you begging. I like it,” you said.

He glared at you. “My cock is weeping for your mouth or your cunt, but you are 3,000 miles away, I have an interview in.” he paused to look at the time before curing “In half an hour and it’s my birthday and you choose now to tease me?” He asked upset.

“My pour Tim-Tam,” you pouted. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to London,” you added.

He waves you off. “That is not the most important part of what I said,” he said. His hand no longer moaning on his cock, but it didn’t stop the precoma from dripping down the sides. Your eyes follow a drop as he disappears out of your view.

“Baby,” he said snapping you out of your little daze.

You met his eyes, and he had an eyebrow raised. “I wish I was there to help you out. You always have a better interview when we fuck before.”

Timmy groaned nodding in agreement. You were currently in America shooting a film that was meant to be over in time for you to spend Timothee’s birthday together. But there were delays and you wouldn’t be able to leave set until late January. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, but Timmy was still doing promo for Wonka and then would be doing promo for Dune part 2 and shooting projects of his own.

You both were yearning for each other. Not only for sex, but to just hold each other. Watching a film together, reading books and just being in each other orbit. So you had a few hours of break and slipped into a new piece of lingerie and decided to call your boyfriend before his interview with Graham Norton.

“I miss you so much,” you said as you slowly started to pull the top part of your outfit off. Timmy groaned leaning forward and stroking his cock again. He loved every part of you, but your breast and nipples had his cock shooting more precome.

“I miss you too, darling. Fuck so much,” he said. “I wish I was there to mark up your pretty neck and to bite your nipples until they were hard for me.”

“Yeah. Wanna mark me up? Let me never forget who I am with?” You moved your hands down to your breasts teasing your nipples. “I haven’t been marked in a while.”

“I am sure the make-up people are happy about it,” he teased, rubbing his thumb over his slit.

“Hmm. But I’m not. You know I love your marks. I need them when you are here.” You slide your hand between your thighs pushing a finger into your cunt. You moaned out Timmy’s name.

He cursed and moved closer to the screen. “Even when they are in hard-to-cover-up places? You complain about them?”

“Yeah. I won’t complain anymore,” you said voice catching. Timmy watched as you pleasured yourself and you watched him. His curls falling in his face and his eyes feasting upon you.

“I’m close,” he said his hips leaving his bed as he fucked his hand. His eyes closed trying to imagine it was your hand around him instead of his own.

“Come Timmy. Make a mess all over yourself,” you begged, adding two more fingers and riding your fingers.

“You look so pretty, baby.” He groaned as he came all over his hand and chest. You whimpered and rubbed your clit until you were biting your lip to keep in your scream as you came.

You slowly pulled your fingers out of your cunt and pushed them into your mouth. Timmy groaned grabbing a tissue and cleaning himself off. “Baby don’t make me hard; I have to get going soon.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“You aren’t,” he laughed sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. And looking around his empty hotel room. He pouted, looking back at you. “I am disoriented,” he said shaking his head.

You laughed grabbing a robe off the floor and moving your laptop onto your lap. “Baby, you need to shower and then go downstairs for the car to take you to the show,” you said.

He nodded. “Yeah, I think I need a very cold shower,” he said winking at you. You laughed blowing him a kiss. “Bye, Timmy. I will call you later. Have a good birthday and my gift should arrive soon.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said.

“Oh, shut up. Yes, I did. We’ve been dating for 3 years and friends for longer. I’ve never not gotten you a gift.”

“I know, but you don’t have to,” he stressed getting up and walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “I love you either way,” he shouted back.

“I love you too,” you said. “I’m hanging up now. I have to get to set.”

“You aren’t going to shower with me,” he said coming back into view of the camera naked.

You shamelessly checked him out. Timmy chuckled his eyes darkening. “Baby,” he stressed sweetly. You always melted when he said it like that. A swarm of butterflies in your stomach had you flushing.

“Sorry. What am I supposed to do you are naked in front of me.” You complained crossing your arms over your chest.

Timmy blew you a kiss. “Goodbye, Mon Coeur.”

“Bye Timmy have a good interview.”

“Timothee welcome back to the show. It’s always a pleasure to have you here. And you are joining us on your birthday.” Graham said, pausing to let the crowd cheer and clap for Timmy. Who, blushed at the attention, blowing kisses to his fans.

“What are you now, 20?” Graham teased.

“Haha. No, I am 28. God, I feel like I am getting old, but then again. I feel like everyone my age says that. It’s just being almost 30, it puts things in perspective. And I think about everything I’ve done in my life and all the stuff I still want to do. I want to marry and have children and I don’t know play in a romcom or something,” he laughed getting shy about his rambling.

“Marriage, Timothee? Well, you are dating right?”

Timmy’s eyes widened and he chuckled nervously. “Am I?” He asked.

Graham playfully narrowed his eyes and showed him a picture of you two at the premiere of your last film. “No? Not dating someone Timothee?”

Timmy laughed harder; his face was completely red now. Your relationship was very much still a secret. Or maybe it was an open secret in Hollywood. Everyone assumed that you two were dating, but you both denied it still.

The denying was more or less a joke. When you were asked, you still remained that you were dating some French rapper named Henri that you met while on a friendcation with Timothee. Timmy for his part could never deny as he always got so flushed and just talked about how amazing you were.

“Oh, Graham. I think you are mistaken. We played love interests in a film. We were in love.. in the film.” He laughed. The crowd laughed along with him and Graham shook his head.

“Really? Nothing going on between you two?”

“Nothing but a deep admiration for each other. She is just massively talented and just one of the best people in the world. She’s kind and funny and working with her seeing how her mind works and the effort she puts into each character. It’s an honor. I hope we get to work on films together soon.”

The crowd awed at his rambling and he blushed, running his hands through his hair a few times and rubbing his legs. “I feel like I am going to be in trouble when I get home or something,” he said.

“Maybe sooner because it is your birthday. We have a little surprise for you from your not-girlfriend.”

Timmy's eyes widened and he quickly looked away hoping you would pop up out of somewhere and surprise him. “Really? What is it?” He asked excitedly looking back at Graham.”

“Just look and see,” Graham grinned turning to the screen. Timmy’s furrowed his eyebrows as a black screen appeared. And then he heard it. “It’s your boy Lil Timmy Tim.” His eyes widened. You walked on screen wearing a grey t-shirt, jean shorts, and a backward red cap.

“No no no,” he yelled, covering his mouth as he watched you reenact his statistic video. He couldn’t believe you did this and didn’t tell him. He laughed throughout the whole thing, clapping loudly and cheering when it was over.

“No. I-“ he broke off laughing. “I can’t believe she did that. But that was really good. Better than mine. I hope this takes off and people will stop bringing it up to me now. I can’t believe she showed me up.” He said shaking his head.

“She must have gotten the rap skills from her boyfriend Henri,” Graham teased.

“She must have. She must have,” Timmy said.

“Well, she can tell us because she is here. Everyone, welcome to the stage. The new Lil Timmy Tim.” You walked out on stage waving to everyone. Timmy jumped up from the couch and was quickly pulling you into his arm.

You laughed hugging him back. He squeezed you tightly and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Surprise,” you whispered in his ear. The crowd went wild and you laughed pulling away and sat on the couch. Timmy sat back down so close to you that your thighs were pressed together.

“Give her some room, Timothee. Let her breathe,” Graham said. Timmy flushed and moved over slightly.

“Sorry sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen her.” He turned to you. “Hey,” he said lovingly.

“Hey, Timmy,” you laughed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Happy birthday. Did you like my gift?”

“Yes. Yes. I loved it. It’s crazy. I can’t believe you redid the video. When did you do this?”

“I did this a few weeks ago. I thought what would be funny and make you laugh the most. And you know Lil Timmy Tim is my favorite rapper,” you teased.

“I am very amused. I loved it so much,” he said, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your shoulder and pull you into his hold.

“So, Y/n” Graham started getting your attention. “Timmy says he looking to get married. Does that mean anything to you?” He asked wiggling his eyebrow.

You turned to your boyfriend. “I think you would make a good husband. You’re so lovely and people adore you. A very devoted and loving husband,” you said, poking his nose. He flushed again and dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Though, I don’t know if anyone wants to date a horse boy,” you teased.

Graham and the crowd were eating up your interactions. You and Timmy were in your own world. Just happy to be with each other again. You were lucky enough to finish all your scenes and wrap up your time on set and were able to fly to Timmy.

“I am really happy to see you,” he said. “And you rapped better than me,” he said lifting his head from your shoulder.

“I am happy we can spend your birthday together.” You kissed his cheek again and grabbed his hand.

The crowd awed and you both laughed. “Sorry, that was so rude of us. Gramham how have you been?” You asked.

“I’m good. And I see you are great,” he teased. “What would Henri say?”

You laughed. “Henri will have to understand that I am on stage with my favorite rapper. It’s hard. I am being starstruck.”

Timmy chuckled. “Really, I am the one starstruck. You are brilliant and you are getting Oscar buzz. I am really proud of you. And you might get on the charts with the cover.”

“When I get my Oscar and my Grammy, I will make sure to give you a shoutout.” You said.

After the interview, you both walked hand and hand down the street toward his hotel room. “So where were you during our little Facetime?” He asked.

“I was in a hotel room nearby.”

“Oh, so I had to use my hand for no reason?” He asked pulling you closer, playfully pinching your side.

You chuckled, putting your hand on the side of his face and kissing him softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. But I am wearing that under this. So we can go upstairs have some fun and then leave.”

Timmy growled kissing you roughly and biting your lower lip. You whimpered softly and grabbed his shirt. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Taglist.

@wandasforyou

@mel-vaz

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

@valencia-rou

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #timmy x reader #timothee

[cardansriddle]

You're so dark - (tom riddle x fem!reader) (modern au)

Summary: A mysterious stranger in a bookshop takes a sudden interest in you when he notices your peculiar taste in literature.

Warnings: not proofread bc i'm a bitch like that.

A/N: inspired by arctic monkeys' song "you're so dark" because I'm obsessed with it and I had to incorporate it into my writing somehow.

༻♛༺

The bell chimed distinctly in the dimly lit library, announcing the arrival of a yet new customer. You kept your head hung low, eyes fleeting over the words inked on the pages of the book with brows furrowed in concentration.

It was only when you heard the thump of shoes against the wooden floor did you raise your gaze from the page, only to be met with the sight of a man who looked like he walked straight out of a dark fantasy book. You assumed he would be the anti-hero, with his chiselled features, and dark hair. His face was unfairly handsome, and the self-assured yet stoic expression on his face only proved your theory further. Definitely a villain.

“How may I help you?” You asked after a brief moment of silence, marking the spot where you had left off and carefully setting your book aside to help out the customer.

His dark eyes flickered down to the book, fleeted over the cover before it locked with your own leather jacket clad form. 

He was about to say what he had come after; you could tell he knew what he wanted, but then in a split second, he seemed to change his mind, and he cocked his head to the side, stare still on you.

“What would you recommend?” He asked, and the deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver straight down your spine. He gestured to the book you had just put down. “How about that one?”

You rose an inquisitive brow. “Not many people are fond of Lovecraft’s works. Too dark for their particular tastes.”

The stranger did not seem bothered by your answer, if anything, he was spurred on to continue. “What if I want to read dark literature?”

He watched as your eyes roved over him, lingering for a second too long on the perfect frown of his lips, before you tore your gaze away. “Perhaps you may want to try Edgar Allan Poe.” You suggested. “Dark and poetic.”

“And that is what you like? Dark and poetic?” The stranger asked again, and you felt his stare burn through your whole being as the implication of his question ran deeper than simple literature. He was watching you, in that intense manner of his, and it was enough to ignite fire in your entire being.

You bit your lower lip, before slowly looking up at him. “I think everything dark is naturally poetic.”

Something flashed in his eyes, and you could sense that he was strangely pleased with your reply. A raven cawed from somewhere outside, and a chill ran down your spine at the sudden tension that seemed to hang around the two of you.

“Then Allan Poe it is.” He decided with a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. 

You nodded and began making your way between the shelves to find the book you presumed the stranger would enjoy from the author’s works. You felt him following your trail but did not notice how his eyes had become glued to the tattoo on full display thanks to your shirt that exposed some of your back. The black ink engraved on your skin in the form of a murder of crows sent a sense of thrill through his veins, and with every new thing he discovered about you, he was becoming more and more hooked. 

Rising on your toes, you reached towards the upper shelf to grab the book you presumed the stranger would enjoy, and as the pads of your fingers barely grazed the spine of the object, you suddenly felt warm as a body pressed against your back to retrieve the book with ease.

Your lungs stuttered, struggling to find air to breathe while his chest brushed your back, and then you felt his hand grabbing a firm hold of your waist.

Tom usually withheld himself from such urges, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that he wanted you bad. It was as if all rational thoughts had been drowned by the need to have you. He wanted you down on all fours as he made you scream his name into the night, and he wanted his teeth to be marking your throat with bruises that would stay on you like a tattoo. 

You turned around in his hold to face him and the sight of his form half shrouded in shadows and the other half illuminated by the winter sun seeping through the windows was enough to send your mind reeling. You caught his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. As if on instinct, your own dropped to his mouth, and it did not go unnoticed by the stranger.

You did not know who moved first, you did not care, because one second you were staring at one another, and the next his lips were moulded against yours. His hand on your waist circled to your back to hold you tighter against his body, while the other grasped your hair. It was messy, desperate, and urgent— the way he kissed you as if he was a man starved. But you were just as eager, with your back pressed against the bookshelf and your hands running over any part of him you could find as you allowed yourself to get ensnared in his trap.

When you finally pulled away to catch much needed air, you were both panting. His dark eyes roved over you once more before he stepped closer, entirely blocking the sunlight from your view.

"I'm Tom Riddle." He said with his gravelly voice.

And when you gave him your name, it felt as if you willingly handed your soul to the devil instead.

༻♛༺

taglist: @faerienotfound   @orangepact77  @on-ya  @a-mj-a  @darkmoviesquotespizza  @444s0ul  @amarisout  @daechgustinad  @lillywise-the-dancingclown69  @eceamaizmirbosislermuduru  @narwhal-swimmingintheocean  @turnip-milk @kammsinn @ratsys @linosluna @lizzieolseniskinda

let me know if you wish to be added/removed from my taglist!

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x you #tom riddle au #tom riddle modern au #tom riddle fluff

[spacebarbarianweird]

How about a fic of Astarion not liking his bite mark touched but then Tav does it. 💕

Here we go! Hope you will enjoy it!

The Marks on Our Skin

The bite mark is the only place on Astarion's body Tav doesn't touch. Until now.

Tags: fluff, comfort, f!Tav, established relationship, post-game

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion finds solace in the late evening hours when the sky still holds a warm glow, but the sun is almost gone down. It's neither day nor night, a perfect in-between that he eagerly anticipates.

Emerging from his tent, he sprawls out on the grass with a book in hand, watching as the sky slowly darkens, revealing the sparkling tapestry of stars above.

Astarion props a bag beneath his head, and the fingers trace the cover of the book, its surface still bearing the faint marks of dried blood. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes Tav's scent.

Astarion opens the book and makes a mental note to convince Tav to learn how to read. He sets the book aside and chooses another, its pages also marred by blood, though not Tav's this time. The text is written in the archaic elven dialect, a challenging puzzle that demands his full concentration. Yet, as he delves into the words, the text starts sounding familiar. As if he already read it, many years ago, when his eyes weren't red and sun didn't burn.

Unwanted memories and thoughts creep into his mind, stubborn as vermin, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't divert his focus.

"How's my favorite man doing?" a loud voice yanks him away from the abyss he had started to slip into.

Tav.

She walks unsteadily, like someone who's had enough to drink, not to think clearly but can still stand on two feet.

"I thought you went to search for quests, not for a drink," he says without any hint of accusation. Tav collapses beside him, and he catches a whiff of ale.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Well, maybe a little." She giggles and nuzzles into his collarbone. "What's four mugs of ale for a warrior like me?"

He chuckles. "Considering your body type, it's quite a lot."

Tav focuses, attempting to devise something clever to say, but gives up. She presses her body closer to him, and Astarion can feel her heart beating.

"It's very inconsiderate of you to get drunk without me," he teases, studying her face. A soft smile graces his lips as he cannot tear his gaze away from her.

"You can drink my blood, and then we can get drunk together," she playfully suggests.

"I'm not going to feed on you until you get sober," he plants as tender kiss on her forehead.

"Alright, alright, next time, I won't go alone," she concedes. "What if someone wants to harm me or hit on me? You'll need to show them to who I belong to."

He chuckles, reminiscing about the first few months of their journey when he cringed at her casual remarks about belonging to him.

"No, you're not mine," he would protest. "You're not my possession, not my spawn, not my … anything. You're an independent person. Please don't say things like that."

Over time, he understood that Tav's words aren't meant to diminish her self-worth. It is simply an innocent joke between two genuinely free individuals in love. It is her way of reassuring him that she isn't going anywhere, even when Astarion questions his own value in her eyes.

As Tav tilts her chin upward, a subtle flinch passes through him, a reminder of the bite mark they have agreed not to touch.

"I like your bite mark," she drunkenly admits.

He pulls away, and her head falls onto the grass. "Tav, what in the sweet hells are you talking about?"

"I love your bite mark," she repeats. "It proves how strong you are. Did you notice it's not just fangs? It's also incisors. The bastard was so hungry and desperate for prey that he almost gnawed a part of your neck. It shows how strong you are that despite all the horrors and pain, you never gave up."

Tav yawns, her eyes half-closed. Astarion is sure it wasn't just four mugs of ale. She probably remembers drinking only four. The rest is the mystery.

His fingers tenderly brush against her cheek as he asks, "Do you truly mean all that?"

Tav's eyes meet his, her response unwavering. "I do."

He rises to his feet, carefully lifting Tav into his arms, and carries her into the tent. He lays her gently on the bedroll. It seems like they aren't going anywhere this night. Anyway, he has some books to finish reading,

Astarion lovingly tucks Tav beneath her blanket, ensuring she is shielded from the chill of the night.

"Little Star"

"Hm?"

"Can I touch your bite mark?"

He hesitates. It is the only part of his body Tav hasn't touched yet.

"Yes."

He doesn't understand why he agrees. But it's already too late to take away the permit.

Sitting up, a silly smile plays on her lips as she wraps her hands around his neck. With an unexpected boldness, she presses her lips against the scar on his neck. He can feel the touch of her tongue, the graze of her own incisors against his skin, almost as if she is trying to drink his blood.

As Tav releases him, she nestles on her bedroll and dozes off peacefully.

Astarion remains in the tent, keeping a watchful eye over Tav. When hunger gets too strong to bear, he ventures into the woods to hunt.

When he returns before the sun rise, his hunger satiated, and his strength renewen, Tav is still asleep.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tav exclaims when she realizes it is already afternoon. "Now we'll have to wait the whole day before hitting the road again."

"That's alright, darling. I hope you had fun yesterday. I don't remember ever seeing you so wasted."

"I remember fighting someone who said she'd kill every vampire she came across."

"Did you win?"

"I'm sorry! I should be offended by the mere suggestion that I could lose in a tavern brawl!" She crawls closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her tone turning more serious. "Did I hurt you yesterday?"

"No," he assures.

"Really? I mean, do you say it because you mean it, not just to spare my feelings? It would make me sick if I crossed your boundaries and made you feel… bad."

"Everything is alright. I mean it."

"Can I do this again?"

He nods. Tav kisses his bite mark. Again and again, and he completely melts in her hands.

Astarion marvels at the simple ministration and how it brings him such bliss. He has little faith in gods or divine rewards, knowing nothing could compensate for what happened to him. And yet…

There is Tav. Tav, for whom he wants to be a better version of himself. Tav who caresses his scars and makes the pain fade. Tav, whose blood is, in a way, divine.

Tav eventually pulls away and invites him to lay his head on her lap. "Will you read to me?" she asks.

"The book with bloody fingertips?" he inquires.

"Yep. What's this book about?"

"It's a collection of fairytales for elven children."

Tav's eyes glisten. "Exactly what I need with my hangover."

Astarion opens the book and begins reading. Tav starts massaging his scalp and occasionally lightly touches the bite mark. Sometimes, when he pauses and looks up, he finds Tav's eyes focused on his face.

Those are simple stories. About heroes, magic, dragons, monsters. Naïve. Stupid. Childish. But Tav likes them. In the same way, she likes a good fight, ale, and nights of passion.

Moreover, he can't help but think Tav is similar to these fairytale heroes. She is the hero who protects him, who makes him better. Who gives him all the hope he needs to survive the day.

And he will do anything to make her happy and safe.

"Tav," he whispers.

"Yes, my heart?" she replies.

"I love you."

Tav kisses his forehead "Well, I will never grow tired of hearing that from you."

---

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #astarion x tav #astarion fics #astarion comfort #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #spacebarbarian fics

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 9

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous Part

Part 9: playing mind games

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I started noticing books being left on the ottoman at the base of my bed. Their old covers and texture of the pages told me of their age. I didn't know what any of them were about unless I read them. I knew it was Alastor's doing, though. I kept them by the window and didn't touch them.

I sat out on the porch with Husker again. This time I shared with him what happened in the library. His grumpy face didn't change and he often let out an exasperated sigh over Alastor’s behavior. It felt nice to complain about him to someone. Husker somehow managed to coax me into talking about the big fight.

"I thought you said your powers were dampened up here," I finished.

"They are. But I also told you that Al is different."

"Why?"

He shrugged and took another sip. "Beats me. And I don't really care to find out either."

"What...do you think it would be...easier for me to practice my powers in Hell?" I asked slowly.

His sharp pupil looked at me sideways. "I don't think that's really a place you'd want to explore."

"I didn't say explore. But it might be easier for me to unravel my curse if a Demon's powers are stronger in Hell."

"That's something you'd have to ask Al, about." He leaned his face on his paw.

"The answer is no." Both of us jumped when the Radio Demon appeared by the door. "A curse is a curse and it's just as hard to unravel no matter where you are."

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. I stared off into the white landscape as Husker and Alastor talked about something else. It didn't make sense what he had said. How could it not be easier to unravel a curse? It would make my magic easier to handle and learn from, which would in turn make it easy to unravel it. So why not?

I thought back to my meetings with Rosie. She would always make a comment about the progress I was making. When she would ask me to do something with magic, it took minimal effort compared to when I used it in the house. Did Alastor have some kind of magic constraint on the house to keep me from using too much? Or to keep Husker in check? I had seen them disagree before.

Or—

My eyes widened. I slowly turned my head to look at the two of them bickering. Husker noticed first and went quiet. Alastor uncomfortably turned his head first, then his shoulders followed.

"Is..." My claws dug into the wood of the chair's armrest. "Is Rosie's place...in Hell?"

Husker's eyes snapped up to look at Alastor. His lips parted into a toothy smile. "Of course it is darling. Where else did you think it was?" I couldn't tell if he was angry at me. He always sounded so condescending so it was hard to tell the difference.

"I don't know. I just...didn't know."

"Indeed, she resides in Hell as Cannibal Town's prestige Overlord."

"Cannibal Town?"

He chuckled. "What did you think all their pointy teeth were for, darling?"

I leaned away from him despite the distance already. I couldn't help but stare at his own sharp teeth. There was always something he was neglecting to tell me.

"It's why we always visit Rosie at night and why we always use the back door. Hell isn't exactly the safest for you."

"It would have been nice to have known, though."

"There are some things you don't need to know." There it was again with the condescending tone. I felt like a child being lectured by a parent. "But this you do," he leaned down toward me, "You are not to leave her estate without me. Wouldn't want you getting into the hands of any cannibals, or worse."

"Worse what?"

He straightened up and placed his cane down. "My dear, you are not yet ready for Hell. You have still a long way to go. Speaking of which, I do think it's time for another lesson, don't you think?"

I squeezed my hands tightly together. "Do all your lessons use fear and pain?"

"That all depends on you, darling. Come along." He went into the house, leaving the door open for me to follow. I let out a huge sigh and gently hit my head on the back of my chair.

I dropped my human appearance and walked inside, leaving Husker to his whiskey bottle. I found Alastor waiting in the library, his claws drumming his cane impatiently.

He can't get mad at me for using self defense, right?

The doors all slammed behind me and the curtains were drawn. "Conjure light." To my relief, I could still make out everything in the room. I focused on my palms and conjured light from my hands. "Give shape to it."

I hesitated. Then I cupped my hands together and imagined rolling up a snowball. I took my hand away to reveal a sphere of light.

"Excellent." He appeared directly in front of me and lifted the sphere from my hands. "Now, I want you to snuff it out."

"How?"

"Use your imagination dear." He looked near the window at a sharp shadow cutting through the wood. He wanted me to control the shadows.

I looked around at all the other sharp lines from the single light he held. How did I move shadows? I only ever saw him disappear into them. And how did I get them up to the light?

I tried moving the single shadow from a chair's leg. I saw it shaking at first. Eventually I managed to pull it towards me along the floor. I was practically reeling it in with my hands. It felt heavy. I lifted it up Alastor's leg and to his arm where it promptly disappeared.

"Let's try something more simpler," he said. He lifted his cane and the room was plunged into utter darkness again. His face was illuminated in a nightmarish way from the sphere he still held. "This should be easier. Try again."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I looked around at the darkness as I struggled to think. He and Husker always used their hands when they were casting. So I opened my claws and imagined the darkness infecting and surrounding the little ball of light.

The light disappeared.

"Well done." Alastor appeared beside me as did the sunlight. "You seem to have a good grasp on shadow work.” He walked behind me to the other side. "You must really be in touch with your Demon side. Good job." With his condescending comment, he slipped into the shadows and back upstairs.

I looked down at my black claws.

****

I met with Rosie again a week later.

"My my, you've made even more progress," she marveled at the touch of our hands. "I'm so impressed. You must be practicing a lot."

"Yeah," I laughed nervously. I had just gotten comfortable with her before Alastor revealed who she really was to me. I couldn't stop staring at her teeth.

"Well, let's not linger any longer. Let's get right into it." She held my hands and I grudgingly closed my eyes. Would today reveal anything more than just more memories?

We started a trip down my teenage-hood when Striker owned me. He was the roughest when it came to discipline. He always grabbed my hair, held me right up to his face, and whipped his tail at me. He hated my snide comments.

We continued through the years. She asked me to focus on the faces in the crowd above me and those in cages beside me. There were faces in the cages that I recognized, many of whom were now long dead, but the crowd was never recognizable. Until one face stood out.

Husker.

His red wings caught my attention real fast. I could see him pushing through the crowd collecting bets and dishing money out. He wore his usual grumpy face but he wore a long jacket of some kind. I felt hot anger in my arms but my opponent slammed me into the ground. I finished the memory exiting the ring and walking onto a cobbled street. I looked around, utterly confused.

"What do you see?" Rosie asked.

"A town. I'm...wait...I'm in Tidebring."

"Where's that?"

"It's on a beach of the fishing district. It was where I first escaped."

"Tell me what you see."

"I see people walking. All people I don't recognize. And I see children. Their parents are holding their hands and moving quickly. It's almost sunset."

"Good. What happens at sunset?"

"It's more dangerous. Things come out of the ocean and..." I turned around to find myself in Ultopa. It was the city Striker found me. "I'm...I'm...not safe."

"What is it darling?"

"This isn't...They legalized ring fights here." I started spinning in circles. "There's no one on the streets. He's...he's going to find me."

"This is a memory, darling. Don't let the fear get to you."

"He's looking for me. He...he wants me back. He wants...he likes to play tricks." I found myself walking further down the street. I suddenly spotted the orphan boy I had saved in the alley. He was hugging a woman in the doorway. "This isn't...this isn't how I remember this."

"Darling, I need you to pull out of the memory."

"This isn't a memory." I looked intently at the boy. He was smiling and rubbing his face in his mother's skirt. Rosie was saying something else but I couldn't hear. He opened his eyes and waved to me. I waved back. When he smiled his face got really big and he laughed, revealing a set of sharp teeth.

I spun around right as Striker lunged at me. My head slammed into the concrete and his claws tightened around my throat. I could hear Rosie yelling but I was too focused on Striker's teeth near my nose.

I tried pushing him off with my legs but he wouldn't budge. He laughed loudly in my ear and ran his tongue along my neck. My blood ran cold. My struggling turned frantic. I couldn't breathe. He was too heavy.

"You're mine, oh you're mine." His voice didn't match. It wasn't his.

Cold water slammed into my face. I sucked in air and water, rolling over to cough it up. I dug my claws into the wet carpet as I hacked up more water. I could still see his face but I could feel that I was in Rosie's store.

I frantically shook my head and blinked several times. I couldn't get his smiling face out. I began clawing at my eyes but something cold grabbed my wrists and pinned them against a wall. They were glued there. When I couldn't move them I brought my face to them, desperately trying to get his face to go away.

Rosie was frantic as she tried to tell me to stop. "Get him out! Get him out!" I yelled. I dragged my face along the carpet but he wouldn't leave. His smile only grew bigger and closer. I could feel his tongue still on my neck. "Get him out!"

I could sense Rosie wasn't near me anymore, which made me panic even more. I started slamming my head into the wall, repeating the same words over and over. I tried smelling for anything but all my senses were blocked. I was floating in nothingness.

Someone grabbed my chin and pulled it up. Another hand covered my eyes and dragged it across my face. I furiously blinked and the image of Striker faded. His yellow eyes were replaced by red ones and I soon found myself staring up Alastor.

My breathing slowed as I realize I was back. Alastor gently let go of my face and I fell down on my elbows. I slowly looked around at the small, pale room. Rosie stood behind me with a hand on my back. I let out a sigh.

"Welcome back, sweetie," she said softly.

"What..." I swallowed with a dry throat. "What happened?"

"Someone got in your mind," she answered.

"What?"

Alastor stood up from his kneeled position and started looking around. Rosie went to my hands and took the old handcuffs off. I hadn't noticed the random white bar that ran along all of her walls. Was it a decoration style?

I sat up and pushed my wet hair out of my eyes. I started shivering and Rosie was quick to put a blanket over my shoulders. I could still see a faint outline of Striker's face still.

Alastor walked back over. "There was air magic involved."

"I'll have my boys clean all the vents," Rosie declared. She kept rubbing her hand in circles on my back. All I could do was stare at the floor and tremble. "It might be wise for me to visit you next time. She'll need to learn how to use mind magic before she can come back here."

"I think you're quite right, Rosie." He stood next to my cowering figure. "Thank you for saving her." He attempted to pick me up but I panicked and practically jumped over Rosie.

"I—I—I can—I can walk. I'm fine!" I yelled. Rosie looked between the two of us.

"Then let me at least help you, darling." He held out a clawed hand. Still shivering, I slowly accepted the gesture. He carefully lifted me up from under my arm and let Rosie wrap the blanket around my shoulders again.

"I'm sorry it even happened, Alastor. I didn't notice anything different."

"It's no worries," he reassured her, "It might've been too small for you to detect. We'll arrange for you to visit us soon."

"Of course. You may leave in here. I'll need to scrap this place clean again."

Alastor simply nodded before wrapping an arm around me. I felt uneasy and grabbed onto his arm when the ground fell away. We came back to the moon's blue light reflecting off the snow. The cold grabbed at my wet body and my shivering worsened.

The world went dark a moment before I found myself in front of the fire. I knelt down and pulled the blanket tighter. I stared into the fire, not yet feeling it's sweet warmth. I watched the flames wave back and forth.

I flinched when Alastor touched my chin. He still had a smile on his face but he wasn't showing any teeth. He knelt in front of me and carefully touched my chin again. He used his other hand to run his fingers along my face. It wasn't until he touched a wound that I realized my face was covered in them. It had been from my own doing.

They stung every time he touched them. I closed my eyes and braced myself every time I felt his fingers on my skin. My claws punctured holes in the blanket from holding it so tight. I didn't like how gentle he was being. It was uncharacteristic of him.

He eventually moved down to the sides of my neck. If I wasn't tense before, I was now. His claws occasionally brushed against my skin but it was mostly his fingers running across the bleeding cuts.

Then his hands froze. I opened my eyes to see him staring intently at my neck. He ran his finger along a certain path on my skin.

"What is it?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"You have a rash here. Nothing to worry about." He pressed his palm against the spot and it tingled as his magic worked. I could see the glow of green outlining his figure again. He then touched the remaining wounds and stood up. "Nifty," he called. She appeared a second later excitedly. "Draw a bath for her." She crawled quickly up the stairs.

"What happened to me?" I asked. I was still crouched by the fire and soaking wet.

"Someone got into your head with mind magic." His cane appeared in his hands and he suddenly looked much taller. He looked out the window. "And I know exactly who it was."

"Who?" I coughed up more water. My lungs burned with every breath I took.

He finally turned to look at me. His smile widened but not enough to show teeth. "No one you should concern yourself with, darling. I'll handle it." He held out his hand, helping me to my feet.

The world went dark and my body felt like it was in water again. A moment later I was standing in my bedroom. Alastor let go of my hand as Niffty walked out of my bathroom. "It's all done!"

"Excellent." He turned to me and panic ran through me. "Perhaps you'll ensure that she's well on her own, Niffty?" My shoulders dropped with relief.

"Of course, sir!" she saluted him with the wrong hand.

"You have nothing to worry about tonight, dear," he told me, "You're safe in this house. Husker will be up shortly to watch over you."

"Where are you going?"

He took a step away and half bowed his head. "I have someone to speak to on this account. To ensure they don't try this little trick ever again." With that, he faded into the shadows.

The hot bath water was instantly soothing. Everything in me slowly began relaxing until I could move my limbs properly again. The relief brought tears to my eyes as I sank lower into the warm water. I kept my eyes on the faucet because closing them made me see Striker's face again.

I wasn't so sure I would be able to sleep tonight.

#alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

[lizinthebox]

Dirty Work

Pairing: Vernon x Fem Reader

CW: FWB Vernon, marking, mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this), pull out method (don’t do this either), implied breeding kink hair pulling, fluff at the end

A/N: this is not proofread at all, this is the 4th of my ot13 series (not being posted in age order), idk how much I really like it it’s very diff from what I usually write, if you enjoy please reblog! Just a note that my requests are open so feel free to leave some, my responses to them will all probably be under 1k words :)

W/C: 1k

         “Holy fuck—” your eyes roll back as you feel Vernon’s lips start sucking all over your neck while he’s bottomed out inside you. His teeth graze past your skin while he moves from one spot to another, sinful noises filling the room. For the past month, this has been your reality: your friend-turned-fuck buddy treating you like his own personal fucktoy. Admittedly, you fucking loved it. The way he treated you like your only purpose was to bring him pleasure, while bringing you more pleasure than you had ever felt before.

         Now, you’re on all fours on his bed, facing his giant mirror just watching while he makes a slut out of you. The feeling of his cock stroking your walls mixed with his mouth sinfully sucking on your neck makes your eyes close without you realizing. “Open your eyes for me baby, look at how good I make you feel,” he urges you, his words causing another wave of wetness to spill from you. You obey him and open your eyes to see mascara running all down your face, but more noticeably, red and purple marks on your neck, right where anyone could see them. You have no time to worry about how you’ll cover it up for work, or what your friends will say when they undoubtedly see it, right now all you can do is tell Vernon exactly how you feel about him.

         “I love when you mark me, baby,” you tell him between moans, nothing but the truth coming out of your mouth. Even if there are consequences to what he’s doing to you, you’ll never care as long as he’s making you feel this good. Your words urge him to try to hit you even deeper, something that seemed impossible to you. He slows his strokes down a little to focus on giving you every inch of him. “Fuck, Vernon please don’t stop,” you choke out in response.

         “Good girl, take my fucking cock,” he replies, pushing down on your lower back with one hand. Good girl? That was a new one. In your weeks of sleeping together, Vernon had called you almost every name in the book, but this one did something different to you. All of a sudden, your head started spinning, feeling his hard cock so deep inside you it felt like he was in your stomach. He could tell how much you loved it by the way your body started going weak. He took this as his chance to wrap a hand around your hair, tugging just enough to pull your neck back up. The slight pain you feel in the back of your head from his grip makes you whimper, not because it hurts, but because you never want him to let go. He keeps fucking into you, chasing his own high that your moans and whimpers of his name cause. 

“Vernon, please,” you beg, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain at the same time. You don’t want him to stop until he empties himself into you. But you know that will never happen, not before you two even figure out what you are. The thought of him filling you up, coupled with his hand still tangled in your hair drives you over the edge. “Fuck, I’m cumming–” you can barely get out as the tension at the bottom of your stomach finally releases. Vernon’s messy thrusts and inability to form words apart from your name and curses signals that he’s not far behind you.

“Fuck, baby I’m cumming,” he barely pulls out of you in time to paint your back. You feel the warmth of his seed on you, shamefully wishing he’d just cum inside of you. Without thinking, he flips you over and pulls you up toward him, locking your lips together in a kiss. His sudden sweetness is endearing to you, how he can go from fucking you like a slut to kissing you like you’re his wife. You run your fingers through his hair, damp and a little messy from the last thirty minutes. “Let’s get cleaned up, I think I’m gonna have to change the sheets before we go to sleep,” he says, looking directly at the spot on his sheets where he missed your back.

“You’re letting me stay over?” you ask innocently. Every time you and Vernon had slept together you’d gone home after, so you’re a bit taken off guard by his implication that you’re spending the night.

“I’m not letting you stay, I want you to,” he corrects you. Your heart flutters at his words, hoping this means he’s catching feelings for you the way you are for him. You go to his bathroom to wash up while he changes the sheets, jaw dropping at how many red and purple marks Vernon left on you. You worry about how they’ll look tomorrow, but you don’t really have it in you to care too much right now. Your still-wobbly legs take you back into Vernon’s room where he’s waiting for you with the covers pulled down on one side of the bed.

“Thanks for not kicking me out this time,” you tease, not wanting Vernon to know how happy you really are that you get to spend the night in his bed.

#svt smut #svt fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #vernon x reader #vernon smut