#this fandom has me wrapped around its finger

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially while ambling past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped  stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround was a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had had been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

#harper gale #drake walker #less than noble intentions #the royal romance #drake x mc #trr fanfic #Spotify

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!Reader, metal dick, oral (f & m receiving)

Synopsis: after a tough mission, you and Boothill have a drink in his room. Little do you know, this drink will lead you to uncovering all of his secrets

OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST

Boothill's cybernetic body is large and imposing, and you can't help but feel small and fragile in his presence. But despite his intimidating appearance, he has a certain charm that you find irresistible.

That night, as you're sharing a drink in Boothill's quarters after a tough mission, you can't help but stare at his metal-plated chest and powerful arms more than you ever allowed yourself to before.

Boothill notices your gaze and smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I see you're checkin' me out, honey," he says, his voice deep and gravelly. "Would ya like to see more?"

You nod, your heart racing with excitement as you set your drink aside. You can't help but stare, your mouth slightly agape.

"You're pretty much obsessed with me, ain't ya?" Boothill chuckles and gets up from his seat, setting his glass down. He saunters towards you with a mischievous grin on his face. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slowly begins to unbuckle his thick leather belt.

His metallic fingers clink against the cold steel of the buckle, sending shivers down your spine as you bite your lower lip, sucking it in your mouth. With a flick of his wrist, the belt comes undone, and Boothill lets it drop to the floor with a thud. His pants are oh so tight, revealing the tantalizing curve of his metal pelvis. He takes his time, savoring the anticipation in your eyes as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his tight material pants. Inch by inch, he reveals the smooth, polished metal of his metallic hips. The muscles in his thighs ripple and flex with the movement, causing the intricate circuitry beneath his metallic skin to gleam in the dim light. The metallic dick springs up free. It has a polished steel surface. The shaft is smooth and thick, made of titanium, and there's a line of circuits running along the underside, imitating the prominent vein that would be present on a human penis. The mushroom-shaped head is plump. Boothill's testicles, too, are a marvel to behold. Made of the same sleek titanium as the rest of his manhood, they hang heavy and full. He steps out of his pants, his metal dick bobbing with each movement. Then Boothill chuckles, a deep rumble that seems to emanate from the very core of his being. "Like what ya see, honey?” he asks, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You can't help but reach out to touch his testicles. "Gosh," you gasp.

"I take it for yes," he says, his voice full of confidence.

You nod again, unable to speak.

He takes your hand and places it on his cock, encouraging you to touch him.

You wrap your fingers around his metallic shaft, feeling its coldness and hardness.

Boothill lets out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward as you begin to stroke him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he says, his voice strained with pleasure. "I've been dreamin' of buryin' my cock deep inside your tiny cunt, makin' ya scream my name as I fill you with my seed."

Your heart races at the thought of Boothill's cock inside you. You're already wet with anticipation, your pussy aching to be filled.

Boothill must sense your desire because he suddenly picks you up and carries you to his little cot. He lays you down gently and begins to kiss you, his narrow lips hot and demanding.

You respond eagerly, your tongue exploring his mouth and sharp teeth as you taste the whiskey on his breath.

Boothill's metallic hand reaches out, caressing your cheek. "Ever been with a cyborg before?" he asks simply after making sure to leave a hickey on the side of your neck.

You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest. "No, I haven't…"

Boothill's grin is wide and wild. "Well, then, darlin', it's about time you did." He pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours yet again. His tongue explores your mouth, tasting and teasing.

You can feel the coolness of his metal body against yours, and you moan into the kiss.

Meantime, Boothill's hands roam over your body, his touch setting you on fire. He cups your breasts with one strong palm, his fingers tweaking your nipples through your bra until they're hard and sensitive. Boothill's other hand slips down, directly inside your pants. His cold, metallic fingers find your clit, and he starts to rub slow circles around it through your panties, grinning as he feels the damp spot in the middle of the fabric. "Naughty."

You gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

With a quick movement, he rips your shirt and bra, and opens your trousers, swiftly pulling them down, tugging them off your legs. He reaches your breasts and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently with his sharp, shark-like teeth.

You cry out, your back arching as he continues to pleasure you.

His hand travels down your body, his fingers finding your wet pussy. He strokes your clit, causing you to gasp with pleasure. "You're so wet for me," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you, and to feel you wrapped around my cock." He drops to his knees in front of the cot, pulling you to the edge. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your pussy to him. His tongue darts out, licking your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, your hands going to his two-colour hair, holding him in place.

Boothill starts to lick and suck, his tongue delving deeper and deeper into your slick wetness. He eats your cunny out in earnest, flicking his tongue against your clitoris in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath. From time to time, he makes sure to stick his tongue into your warm entrance, eagerly drinking all of juices that are dribbling out of you. Sometimes he gives kitten-like licks, while other times he licks in a single stripe, starting from your entrance, through your slit, and directly to your clitoris; his tongue flexing.

Soon, a cold, metallic finger prods your entrance too, quickly joined by a second as it slides in. The cyborg grinds the heel of his hand against your swollen clit as he works his fingers in and out of you.

"Don't stop," you beg, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

And Boothill doesn't stop. He keeps going, his other hand slapping your clitoris lightly. He attached his mouth to the swollen bud yet again, sucking hardly. And then, with one final lick, you come, your moans filling the air as your runny juices cover his chin after you grind your pussy against his face a few times.

Eagerly and quickly, you drop to your knees, the wooden floorboards digging into your skin. You lick your lips, savoring the anticipation, and then lean in, pressing your mouth to his iron cock.

Boothill's fingers tangle in your hair as you begin to work the metal, your tongue gliding along its length. The taste is foreign, yet enticing, and you find yourself growing more and more aroused with each passing moment. Your own desire is pooling between your legs and thick juices are dribbling down your thighs as you suck the metallic dick.

The sounds of your moans and the wet slurping of your mouth on the iron fills the room.

You continue to lick and tease the plump head of his iron dick, your tongue tracing the intricate design of the metal.

Boothill's breathing grows heavier, and you can sense his growing need for release. You open your mouth and take the head of his cock between your lips. You slide further down the shaft, your lips tight around the steel as you deepthroat him.

Boothill groans, his hips bucking involuntarily as you work your magic. "Fuck, honey, just like that, you're doin' such a good job down there."

Your hands roam his body, exploring the hard, cold contours of his chest and abs as you keep on sucking his cock, looking up at him with your best doe eyes.

With a loud groan, he yanks your head off his cock and forces you back on the cot. He continues to stroke your clit as he positions himself at your entrance, his cock nudging against your slick pussy lips. He pushes in, slowly at first, but then with more force.

You moan as you sense him filling you up to the brim, your pussy stretching painfully to accommodate his thick girth. "Oh, fuck!"

Boothill pauses, giving you time to adjust to his size. "Fuuuuck. You feel amazing," he says, his voice strained with pleasure. "So tight and hot, warmin' my dick up." He begins to move, his hips thrusting forward as he fucks you. Boothill starts to thrust harder, his hips slapping against yours.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel another orgasm building up inside of you, and you know it's going to be huge.

Boothill's thrusts become more urgent, his cock hitting your G-spot with each stroke. The cyborg pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath.

Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto his strong forearms. The wet slap of Boothill's hips against your pussy, the obscene squelching from your dripping wet pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you make you arch your back and moan like a whore. Your pussy is clenching painfully around Boothill's cock as if trying to milk his cock right on the spot.

He must feel it too because he begins to thrust harder and faster, his balls slapping against your slit. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urges, his voice strained with pleasure. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

With a few more thrusts of his, you explode, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. The walls of your pussy clamp down on the cyborg's cock.

Boothill follows soon after, his cock twitching as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you, filling you with a thick seed. "Yee-haw! Fuuuuck, fuuuuuck! Yeees!" He gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then he finally pulls out with a groan.

The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene, so is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the mushroom-shaped tip of his metallic cock until he withdraws completely.

You lay there, panting and spent, covered in a cold sweat as Boothill lays down beside you, his strong arm draped over your waist. "That was amazing, honey," he says, his voice soft and satisfied as he place small kisses to your bare shoulder.

You nod, still unable to speak. You've never experienced anything like this before, and you know that you'll never forget it. "I think I fell in love with your metal rod," you chuckle quietly, your cheeks going beet red.

special tags: @shonen-brainrot @crystalwolfblog @hornydynamight @doumaslotus @bakugoscunny

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #boothill x female reader #honkai star rail smut #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill smut #hsr x you #boothill imagines #honkai star rail x you #boothill x y/n #boothill x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines #honkai star rail #hsr #divider by cafekitsune #x female reader #smutty fanfiction

[coryosbaby]

STEPSISTER AND ETHAN?HER SECRETLY RIDING HIS COCK DURING A MOVIE NIGHT.

Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M

(pt. 2)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)

Warning: dubcon, slight sliiiight mention of vomit and suicide (but not in a serious manner), stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), public sex in front of relatives (the parents are completely clueless), scent kink, dom! Ethan, dark! Ethan, sub! Reader, p n v, squirting, finger sucking, degradation, possession, rough sex

A/N: 😱 how have I not thought ab stepbrother! Ethan before ??!! Thank you for this. The way I wrote the whole situation is literally so unrealistic but fuck it we ball. Literally going to write so many more stepbro fics now and am totally making this a series 😘 this is pt 2! Pt 1 is already posted <3 luv u

“Care if I sit here, sis?” Ethan’s voice is laced with sarcasm, and you cringe.

It’s movie night, and your mom and Ethan’s dad are sprawled out on one couch. The only spots left are the ones on the smaller couch with two seats. The lights are off, and Ethan is standing above you, a large green comforter clutched in his ring clad hands. The light of from the television makes him a warm silhouette.

You give him a thin awkward smile, mumbling a small “yeah, sure.”

He grins, but there’s a mischievous look to it that doesn’t sit right with you.

“Great!”

He plops down beside you, covering his tall form with the blanket. He moves close to you, even though he has a whole other half of the cushion to take up. Your face flushes when you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you have flashbacks to a few weeks ago.

A flashback, it seems, that racks you with a shit ton of guilt.

You cant stop thinking about it. About how Ethan threw you on top of the kitchen counter when your parents were gone a few weeks ago and fucked your virgin pussy open. Can’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt, how his cock had felt.

You shiver, and your stomach twists in knots. What the fuck is wrong with you? This whole thing is sick. He’s your stepbrother, for god’s sake!

Ethan’s fingers gently skimming along your knee cap is what pull you out of your thoughts. You narrow your eyes at him, not in the mood for his antics right now.

But, as usual, Ethan doesn’t know how to fucking listen.

“Sis, you’re practically freezing. You should move a little closer and share the blankets with me.” Ethan suggests. You are freezing, but you aren’t going to admit that.

You scoff, and then roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Your mother scolds from across the room. “And be nice to your brother!”

Brother. You might throw up. In fact, jumping off the roof sounds like a very good idea right about now.

“Whatever.” You mutter, and scoot closer to the the boy next to you. Your mother turns her attention back to the movie as Ethan’s dad wraps his arms around her.

Ethan’s scent gets stronger, more prominent, now that your arms and legs are touching. You notice that it’s not just his cologne that smells so good; it’s him. Just, completely and utterly him.

You really do hate yourself right now.

Ethan throws the blanket over the two of you and he begins to slowly lift you and sit you down on top of him. You stiffen, his closeness in such a public setting confusing you. Does he just want you both to get caught?

“Oh, look at them, Wayne! They’re bonding!” Your mom gushes when she sees Ethan holding you. She’s so naive.

‘We’re certainly bonding all right, but not in the way you want, mom.’ You think. You move around to try and sit correctly on Ethan.

And then you feel it. Big and hard, pressing against your ass. He’s hard.

In front of your fucking parents, too. Jesus, this motherfucker is demented.

You try to ignore it, you really do. But your pussy has a mind of its own, and Ethan isn’t making it any easier. His thigh flexes and pushes the muscle against your soaking pussy. He seems calm, but his grip on your hips is a dead giveaway. You try not to gasp, to moan at the feeling of the friction against your swollen little clit. It’s difficult.

“Oh! See, Wayne? This is my favorite part.”

Your mom’s voice cuts through your wild thoughts, and your face gets hotter than it was before, if possible. She doesn’t deserve this.

Ethan’s hands rest on your upper thighs now, and you feel the coldness of his rings against your skin.

He’s breathing quietly down your neck, and you feel him adjust. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when your lightly lifted by his strong arms, while he moves his sweatpants down. You try to act calm when he lowers you back down and his big cock is resting in between your pussy and his thigh. And then, when Ethan sees that your parents aren’t looking, he presses a light kiss to your neck.

“Be really still, angel. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He whispers, lips against your ear. You shake your head.

He chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You clench. And then, you feel the boy gently pull your sleep shorts and panties to the side. He lifts his cock and presses the tip into your tight hole, and you almost whine. He already feels so good. Why does he feel this good?

His cock is wet, and you can feel his pre cum spreading around your outer lips. You cringe when you hear the faint sound of your creamy wetness sliding around on his dick. It’s hard for him to stick it inside, really. You had only had sex once since before this moment, that time a few weeks ago. The stretch burns, and Ethan’s above average size doesn’t help. But you sit, and you take it like a good girl. And eventually, slowly, while slightly readjusting you, Ethan’s cock slides all the way in. You feel filled to the brim, and ashamed. Your parents are still watching the movie. Your mom has no idea that her sweet little girl is getting impaled by her stepbrothers big dick.

And then Ethan just…stays there. He doesn’t move, or even try to, and you don’t understand how he can physically handle it. Because as of right now, your thighs are almost shaking from the feeling of being filled. You know you’re soaking, can feel your juices trailing down onto Ethan’s balls and his sweats. You can feel his cock throbbing, can feel all 9 inches and every vein. Your walls clench down on him on accident and you feel his breath hitch.

You smirk. If he wants to play dirty, you can too.

You clench again, your hands going down into the blanket to run your fingers over his balls. He inhales sharply, and his fingers go up to put your arms in a tight grip.

“Stop it.” He growls, his tone low. You lean back to whisper in his ear in a hushed tone.

“Why don’t you make me?”

All of Ethan’s willpower is trying to stop him from plowing you straight on the fucking couch. He can smell the intermingling of yours and his arousal dripping down his cock. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

God, you smell so fucking good.

Both of your thoughts are interrupted when the both of your parents sigh tiredly. The end credits. Ethan’s dad looks incredibly tired, barely even acknowledging the both of you and saying goodnight as he throws you the remote.

“If you guys aren’t going to go to bed anytime soon, just put on something else.”

Ethan’s head is leaned back against the couch, his chest heaving slowly at the feeling of you. Your face is hot, for obvious reasons. Your mom frowns at you.

“Honey? Are you okay? You look a little sick..” her hand goes up to feel your head and Ethan adjusts his hips. You gasp, but quickly cover it up with a cough.

“I’m f-fine mom!” You smile, all teeth. “Just a little tired, that’s all. We’re probably going to watch the wizard of oz… or something.”

Your mom looks at you both strangely for a moment, but decides to shake it off. Both you and Ethan give her a sheepish smile as you begin to actually turn the wizard of oz on as a distraction. She goes upstairs, and lastly, you and Ethan are alone.

As somewhere over the rainbow plays, Ethan instantly throws you onto the couch, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and pounds you so hard that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He reaches down to rub your soaked clit, the sound of your wetness prominent.

He begins speaking in a hushed but growling whisper. He’s angry, most definitely. And his full intention is to take it out on you.

“You dirty fucking slut.” He sneers. “Think you can get away with the shit you do? The shit you say? You’re lucky our parents were here tonight, or I would be spanking that cute little ass until it bleeds.”

You let out a cry, one thats muffled by Ethan’s fingers, one you hope doesn’t catch the attention of your parents upstairs. You can feel that elastic in your gut start to snap, can feel yourself letting go.

And then you literally ejaculate onto Ethan’s cock and balls.

He grins down at your squirting pussy, his teeth shining. Your sobs and moans are muffled by his hand, and he gives your cunt a light slap.

“Yeah, squirt all over that cock, baby. Fuck, just wait until mommy and daddy aren’t home. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ pussy, sweet thing.”

He watches your hole as he spreads it apart with his fingers, watches your greedy walls suck him in. Your face is contorted in pleasure, looking up at him like he’s God. His eyes are completely black, almost evil. As he looks at your precious face, your fragile body, possession overtakes him.

Family be damned, you belong to him.

#Ethan Landry #Ethan landry x reader #Ethan landry x fem! reader #Ethan landry smut #stepbrother! Ethan landry #stepbrother! Ethan landry x reader #dom! Ethan landry #sub! reader #stepcest #scream 6 #scream

[shalotttower]

The Devil Is a Gentleman

Title: The Devil Is a Gentleman

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night with a headache.

Word count: 800+

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader

Notes: Yandere Chrollo, captive Reader, my head is murdering me so I wanted some soft Chrollo stuff.

You shift under the covers and for a moment it seems that maybe this state of half sleep, half consciousness is here to stay. Just for a bit, until you slide all the way back into a dream, where the dull throb in your skull doesn't matter. No such luck; angry blurred dots start swarming behind your eyelids and the longer you lie there, the more evident it becomes that sleep isn't coming.

3 AM.

The red numbers from the alarm clock glow way too intensely in the dark. It's quiet. Chrollo's breath tickles your shoulder. No matter the position, he somehow manages to do this every single time - wrap himself around you like it's no tomorrow, with tangled legs and chest pressed to your back. Sometimes it's annoying, sometimes sickly comforting, but not now. There's a faint feeling of nausea in your throat, the whole world is spinning and swaying from side to side even though you're lying still.

Sharing a bed is a recent development. Previously the floor was your choice, but two weeks ago Chrollo simply carried your sleeping body to the mattress. You woke up trapped between him and soft pillows, then the pattern repeated two times, four, six, until it became clear that this arrangement was going to stick.

Carefully, inch by inch, you wiggle out of his embrace. An awful taste coats your tongue, clings to the palate - not something you expected upon waking, but not unusual either.

The kitchen light is bright and unpleasant. It stabs right through your eyes without remorse, making you promptly settle for a dimmer one above the stove. One cabinet after another, the fridge - no pills. Of course, why would Chrollo keep anything like that lying around? You probably have to wake him up for medicine, but it's honestly the least tempting scenario. You don't want to talk to Chrollo, don't want to ask him for help, don't want him to see you in pain or sick.

So you brew a cup of coffee and hope that the nausea plaguing your throat will eventually subside. What you should know by now, however, is that Chrollo doesn't need more than you breathing wrong in order to wake up.

"Dear?"

His voice has a slight raspy edge to it.

You glance over your shoulder and see his figure standing at the door frame. The light from the hallway throws a shadow cutout across the floor, and it's the only time beside after shower you ever see him all mussed hair, loose pants and, of course, no shirt. You suspect its absence has some relation to the attempts at wooing you which range from subtle to not so subtle these days.

You make a non-committal sound.

"It's 3 AM," Chrollo says and steps into the kitchen. "What are you doing up?"

His fingers brush a strand of hair away from your neck, linger there, feather-light and warm. You take a small sip of coffee.

The pulsing in your skull feels like someone decided to tap a small hammer against your brain. Well, he's up, so might as well do something.

"Headache," you say and press your forehead to the cool marble of the counter. It feels nice for a short moment.

Chrollo doesn't respond. He does place a hand on your nape though, thumb drawing circles, massaging the tension there. It's so peculiar. His tenderness leaves marks wherever it goes - light trails on your skin, hands on your forearms - a constant reminder that in this current reality he's everywhere and everything.

'Stop,' you want to say, but instead a quiet "mm" comes out. Maybe you're too tired to muster up any spite. He takes the cup out of your hand and sets it aside with a quiet clink.

"How bad?"

"Bad. Don't get too close," you warn. "I feel like throwing up."

He does anyway, and wraps an arm around your waist. Chrollo knows very well that you'd rather jump into boiling oil than lean on him out of your own volition, maybe that's why he uses every given opportunity to hold you.

"You should have woken me up," his words are muffled, lips pressed against your temple. Chrollo smells of shampoo, sheets and himself. "I'll get you something from the pharmacy later, but for now you should try and sleep, dear."

Then you're up in the air, carried out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" you frown, fingers gripping the muscles of his arm.

He hums something akin to a simple melody, the devil. "Taking you back to bed, where you can keep being miserable with more comfort."

This time you don't protest; the pillow has cooled down, and as soon as you lower your head on top of it, it feels like bliss. The bathroom door opens and closes, followed by quiet splashes of water. There's a pause before the mattress dips on your right.

Cold cloth covers your forehead.

"You should have woken me up," he repeats. "Next time do it, dear."

"Mm," is all you manage, when the bedside lamp clicks off, and then there're covers lifting, fingers rubbing your temples and a low hum somewhere above you.

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucifer x reader #hunter x hunter fanfic #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer

[angelltheninth]

Secret Meetings with Honkai Star Rail Men

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, secret relationship, kissing, playful biting, slightly suggestive, flirting

A/N: I like this format of putting pictures before the text. Do you want me to use it for other fandoms too?

Blade is always up for a secret meeting with you, in what ever context that might be. Of course it will always end with a little disagreement because he loves to get a rise out of you, loves to see you getting hot end bothered for him, no because of him, and the only person who can soothe that ache is he and he alone. His kisses almost hurt, the grip he has on your hips almost hurts, the way he's itching to tear you apart and love you at the same time, his wild passion burning for you for these few hours he has you all for himself.

Dan Heng meets you in the library in between missions, his hands seeking your warmth, his lips on yours as he presses you against the shelves, one leg between yours and fingers traveling just under your clothes to make goosebumps on your skin. You're gonna need to be quiet or else someone's gonna hear your moans, is that what you want? Maybe he should give your mouth something to do. How about his fingers? Will you be a good girl and open up for him or do you want something a bit... bigger?

Gepard almost finds its scandalous that he's meeting you in little corners of alleyways like this but he can't resist. In public he is the embodiment of justice and a role model for all, but with you he's just a man driven by love and desire for his beloved. He hisses sharply in your ear as you bite at his neck and wrap your legs around him, cursing his armor being in the way. You sure are impatient, he needs to teach you a few lessons in that later. For now he can indulge you, he can be your knight and save you with a true love's kiss.

Jing Yuan grins while you sit in his lap in his office, the doors locked just to be sure you have privacy with your general. He's your boss, you shouldn't be looking at him like this, shouldn't be sneaking into his office to kiss him, shouldn't let his hands explore your body and find all your weak spots like you've been letting him do, shouldn't be pulling on his hair, guiding his mouth, his bites and asking, begging, thrashing and whimpering on top of him like this. But then he's looking at you with that charming smile and you can't help but let yourself do all these things and so much more.

Welt doesn't mind getting a few kisses from you in secret. He sometimes feels like a dad with a bunch of kids so moments like this, in the empty rooms of the train are more then welcome. You just need to be careful that you don't look too disheveled when you walk back out, it would not look good. To the rest of the crew or the people on the train. You can kiss him, just make sure to leave the marks where he can cover them, he doesn't need rumors circling about him more then they already are.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x you #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #welt x you #welt yang x reader #honkai x reader #hsr headcanon #hsr imagine #hsr fluff #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail fluff

[demonicbaby666]

A Job Offer

One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds 

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and Smut

Words: 5.2k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, NSFW, smut, cursing, fingering, oral, overstimulation, strap on use (JJ!recieiving)

Summary: Despite you and JJ not being a couple, you do share nights together, nights that are not so innocent. However, when a job offer comes your way, you have to decide whether it'd be better to stay at the BAU or accept your new position, and like it or not, JJ has a part to play in this choice.

A/n: Hi, the kids don’t exist in this timeline. Also the timeline doesn’t timeline cause JJ ain’t really liaison, but I care not. Also, leaving it on a sorta cliffhanger without a part 2 cause I’m mean xoxo

"I'm going to cum!" JJ screamed up to the ceiling, her hips moving erratically to and from the mattress, "Fuck baby, so good."

You were fucking her just how she liked it, dirty, rough and hard, pounding the strap in and out of her so fast it became a blur of skin slapping against skin, the dildo only appearing in rapid intervals. JJ's hands were encouraging your every thrust, her nails etching their distinct curved signature into the supple skin of your ass. 

"Do it," you encouraged, soaking up every desperate moan. With a slip of your hand between your bodies, you rubbed the older woman's clit, gently enough so that the sensitivity gained from the last hour of fucking was not piqued but hard enough so that the pressure would give her the needed edge over her impending orgasm, "Cum for me JJ." 

"Yes!" She cried out, her release simultaneously sparking life into every cell in her body and freezing it in its tracks. Her hands stayed stagnant but firm, keeping you fully sheathed inside her as her body shuddered and her hips ground in circles, lengthening her orgasm to its full extent. 

Slowly, a steady breathing pattern was adopted between the two of you. The hands holding you close slackened, allowing you room to pull out and fall back onto the mattress with a content sigh falling from your lips. The moment was only made better when soft blonde locks tickled your chest, and you glanced down to see JJ's head settling on your shoulder. Metal clacked quietly - fingers expertly unbuckling the harness from your hips, allowing you to shuffle it off and place it aside. 

A comfortable silence soon fell over your bedroom, warm and lulling. Your fingers traipsed mindlessly up and down JJ's spine whilst she wrapped an arm around your waist, nestled closer into your neck, and planted light kisses over the salty skin. It was easy in times like these to lose yourself, forget the daily struggles that fed your sullen mind, and imagine that life could always be filled with the contentedness you were given a brief taste of. A daydream come true, but the reality was much crueler. 

"I've got to go," JJ sighed after a minute or two, showing no intent or want of moving, "Will's back in an hour." 

"A few more minutes," you grumbled, running a hand through her hair and pulling her body in a little closer. 

No argument was made, and JJ wholeheartedly accepted her fate, shuffling her body half atop yours and moving her kisses higher to the fine line of your jaw. The finite moment lingered with sweet kisses and caresses shared, and soon, you succumbed to sleep. It's a simple but treasured thing, sleeping next to the person you've found yourself undeniably falling for. It's seeing another side of them and letting them see a secret side of you when you have no control over how you look - peaceful or softly snoring from the exhaustion of a long work day, as JJ often did. 

The cold woke you, alongside the quiet shuffling from the far side of the room. It was never a fond sight to sit up, rubbing well-earned sleep from your eyes, and see JJ dressing herself, going over what excuse she'd come up with to tell her fiance. 

"Shit," she groaned, walking over to the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I didn't mean to wake you." 

"It's okay," you smiled, "What time is it?" 

"Almost eight. We slept for about an hour," JJ rushed to say, double-checking her phone before tossing it into her bag, "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow." 

You tried your best to give her a convincing smile and a cordial nod, though you knew it was anything but. She was trying to hide the obvious stress running through her system from sleeping in too long and, most likely, being late back home. So you - as always - found yourself empathising.

"Drive safe," you said, your false smile still intact. 

It wasn't hard to fall back asleep once you heard the front door to your apartment close. You'd become accustomed to warding off unpleasant thoughts after encounters and partings with JJ. The two options were either to feed them and entrap yourself into believing a false reality or to acknowledge that life just isn't pretty or straightforward, it's a brutal battlefield, and the only way to survive is to face the truth of a shitty situation. That acceptance kept you strong and tactile in how you responded to the predicament you'd found yourself in. So, sleep came easy, knowing you'd already surmounted the horrors that fought to keep you awake. 

The following morning was, as it turned out, not so ordinary. The routine check of your emails had you up on your feet and pacing, overcome with utter bewilderment. A job offer to run the Washington FBI office for counterterrorism had landed in your lap a while ago, and you'd taken a gander in submitting your name into the mix. In honesty, it was a drunken gander, and you had never expected to be considered, let alone chosen. But life had a funny way of surprising you then. 

Though the start of the day was somewhat unexpected, you treated it as any other, getting breakfast, driving to work, and sitting down at your desk to sift through mountains of paperwork. You'd worked in the BAU for a while, and it only dawned on you with thoughts of leaving that the work grew to be tiresome, cases were exhausting, each taking its toll on your psyche. Yet the gratification of putting shitty ass people behind bars just couldn't be matched. Plus, you adored the team. They were your family; you settled down in Virginia, and, well, there was JJ. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, but you hadn't had time to do more research, so assuming that staying at the BAU was the better option wasn't exactly foolproof. 

"You're moving to Washington?!" A high-pitched squeal came from behind you, and you felt everyone turn to look at you as Garcia stormed towards your desk. 

Soaring from your chair, you yanked the blonde by her arm and pulled her into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the team.

"First of all, stalking me… Not cool," you bitterly whispered before taking a deep breath and quelling your tone. In times like these, it was hard not to find the technical analyst's snooping infuriating, but at the end of the day, the truth was her checkups came from a place of worry, "Second, I haven't decided yet." 

A flash of hurt crossed her features, "So you are considering it?" 

There was no use playing coy, "Yes. It's a good job, Garcia and I'd be stupid not to." 

"I just," she said, briefly pausing and giving you a watery smile, "I know. I'm happy for you. I just don't want to see you go." 

It was safe to assume every little outburst this woman had was down to her rampant emotions and her fundamental problem with change. That's why it was hard to stay mad at her. She honestly didn't want to see you go and was most likely beating herself up for feeling so conflicted. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't known what that felt like. 

"Come here," you open your arms to her, and she gladly accepts the gesture by falling into them, "I promise I'll tell you what I decide. Plus, I'd never let you miss the opportunity to throw me a killer goodbye party." 

"You better not," she grumbled, pulling back to fix her hair, "We've got a case, by the way. Hotch is waiting in the briefing room." 

"Well, rally the troops, and I'll see you there."

The briefing went as briefings do: information was handed out, and vivid imagery was shared and imprinted into your head forever. However, the presence of JJ next to you did help. She had a calming aura, and all you'd have to do when you felt as though the world was a shitty place - which it very much is - was turn to her and admire how her smile could be so warm, how her fleeting reassuring touches would pacify your sunken mood and how throughout her whole time at the BAU she'd remained so strong and still so loving, and you'd feel fine. 

"You okay?" JJ asked as you walked to the car, "I heard Garcia this morning, and you seemed off during the briefing." 

"I'm all good," you lied, giving her a smile when she opened the passenger door for you, "I have a lot on my mind, that's all." Not a lie. 

She appeared sceptical, her eyes zoning in on you and creasing every so slightly at the sides. But she must have pushed it aside whilst closing the door and making her way around the car because the next thing she said was, "Well, I'd be happy to take your mind off it later." 

You chuckled at that. It was no secret that JJ had a high libido, and hell, if you didn't love it, particularly in times when she'd ravish you all night and would still have the energy to go again the following morning. It made you feel the most wanted you'd ever felt during the entire duration of your hapless life. The passion bred in nights spent together was mind-numbing. It felt like you found your escape with each other - away from the team, your home lives and the constant strain of cases. Somehow, even the mention of your nights together, previous or upcoming, had a way of putting your mind at rest and eliciting a beaming smile to grace your lips. 

"You know I'd never say no," you said, smirking, admiring how JJ mirrored your facial expression as she started the car and headed to the airstrip.

It was the truth; you'd never found a good enough reason to decline her offers, and the likelihood was you wouldn't. She had a way of twisting you around her fingers and never letting you forget it. Lunches, catch-ups, and, even once, a weekend trip away had been cancelled, and to think all it took was one phone and a particular husky voice at the other end of the line requesting your company. 

So, true to word, after a long day, you snuck into JJ's hotel room and found a pleasant surprise. She lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, a tantalising smirk adorning her lips. One index stretched out then curled in a come hither motion, and you practically leapt. 

"Someone's eager," JJ chuckled, cutting herself with a moan as your lips descended to her neck.

"Can you blame me?" You said, words slightly muffled, with you nipping and sucking at JJ's throat. 

"Mmmm, I'm not complaining," she hums as she tilts her head back and grabs the neckline of your t-shirt, "Though I will complain about you still wearing clothes," she moved her hand down to the lining of your shirt and tugged, "Off." 

Sitting up, you rid yourself of your shirt and bra, much to JJ's delight. No matter how many times she's seen you naked, she still looks at you like it's the very first time, and that in itself gets you wetter than the thought of all your exes combined. 

By the time you were done revealing your upper body, hands were already grasping at the waistband of your trousers. The irony of her earlier comment staring you right in the face was too hard to ignore, so you let out a breathy laugh whilst saying, "Now look who's eager." 

To that comment, JJ stopped her efforts to take off your trousers and instead used them to yank you forward, the tip of her nose brushing against your stomach. She darted her head down and harshly bit the side of your hip bone with a growl. You had to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to stop a moan from spilling out. 

After her display of dominance, you knew two things: JJ wanted to be in control tonight, and by the look in her eyes, if you weren't naked soon, you'd face some heavy consequences. 

"Okay, okay," you surrendered, helping her remove the last barriers between your naked bodies. 

Instantly, she had you on your back. Stationed between your legs, she looked down at you with blown-out pupils, shamelessly taking in the sight of your bare body on display. 

"Stunning," she whispered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to you, but you seemed to blush regardless. 

JJ left you no time to repay the compliment before her lips crashed down on yours, and her tongue demanded entrance, which you readily granted. She swirled the muscle around your mouth in a practised dance, stopping now and then to nibble at your lips, then going right back in. The way she kissed was addictive, and often, you thought you could come undone just from it alone. She'd perfected the art of being rough yet gentle, fast yet slow, passionate yet loving. It set your whole body alight, made your throat dry, and your knees weak. Even when laid down, you felt your body failing you, the mattress against your back a reassuring fail-safe. 

Tender kisses fell lower, marking an invisible path to your collarbone, where they took their time dotting an array of scarlet blotches into your skin. JJ knelt back, smirking as her eyes darted over the canvas of bruising marks before she got back to work, lowering herself back down to the juncture of your breast. There, she became softer, pecking lightly from side to side till she was close enough to encapsulate a firm nipple into her mouth and lather it with her tongue. She knew your body so well - too well, you sometimes thought - you hadn't even needed to mourn the isolated attention to one breast before a warm hand cupped neglected flesh and began to knead. 

"Oh god," you whimpered, pushing yourself further into JJ's mouth and hand. 

You felt her lips curl around your breast, likely proud of herself for getting you worked up so fast despite knowing perfectly well she could do so with much less in her arsenal. Gloating put aside, JJ brought her free hand resting beside you to your thigh, squeezing the muscle - her thumb skimming the outskirts of where you almost certainly needed her. She continued to tease, and a protest lingered on your tongue, watching JJ brazenly settle on paying homage to your stomach, planting kisses high and low, but never as low as you wanted them. The pit in your stomach grew bigger, and the ache between your legs became more painful, yet the blonde paid no attention to your dejected whines. 

Finally, when even the rutting of your hips did nothing, and the wriggling about only brought JJ back to your neck, you half huffed, half moaned, "Do I need to beg?"

Oh, so pleased with herself, JJ retorted, "I'd like that very much."

Choosing your release over your pride, you grabbed the sides of JJ's face, pulling her up so she was at eye level before confidently saying, "Please fuck me, JJ. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me cum so hard that I can't walk tomorrow."

"Mmm," she hummed, her hands squeezing both your breast and thigh, "Well, since you asked so nicely." 

The cursed thumb that had been endlessly teasing you moved, brushing lightly over your clit. As brief as the stimulation was, it was enough to cause you to jolt and grip the bedsheets. JJ retired her hand from your breast and clung to the pillow behind you, fingers running through the wet mess between your legs. 

"I love how wet you get for me," she husked, placing a quick peck on your lips and ignoring your disapproving grunt to being denied more, "I want to watch you." 

Just as she made her plans known, she thrust two fingers inside you and watched your mouth open in a gasp, biting her lip at the erotic sight. You burned, not only from her eager gaze but from the biting pleasure that ran its way along your spine and caused all your muscles to tense. The room faded to dark, your eyelids drooping, letting you hone in on the sea of sensations swimming through your body. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air you took, and it only became worse when JJ started to move, sliding her fingers out and then plunging them back in. She did this over and over until you felt as though you might burst. There were bulbs of sweat forming over your brow. Your lips were permanently parted. Your jaw shook with each breath. You were so close to the edge but not close enough. Then a thumb began caressing your clit, and you almost screamed in relief. 

"Yes," you hissed, hips bucking up and down as JJ angled her fingers to run over ridged flesh, "I'm going to cum."

"Open your eyes," she tenderly whispered, kissing your temple, then leaning back again, "Look at me." 

You did as instructed, watched JJ sway above you, saw the reverence in her eyes, and gazed into them as you felt the knot loop tighter and tighter in your stomach. She moved faster, using her hips to fuck into you harder. In a flash of white, your legs were shaking, your fingers tearing into the bed linen as your release poured out of you right onto JJ's fingers. All you could do was loop your arms around JJ and muffle your shaky cries into her neck, praying you wouldn't be heard. 

The two of you stayed intertwined like that for a while, her fingers still inside you, moving slowly and steadily until you winced from being so sensitive, and she delicately withdrew. You had to blink to make out the room decor again: a wooden bedside table with a flickering lamp atop it, a sorry-looking armchair sitting idly in the corner and a dainty coffee table beside it. 

"You okay?" JJ smiled above you, brushing strands of hair out of your face. 

Returning her smile, you gave her a nod before pulling her down for a passionate kiss. You threaded your hands through her silky hair, scratching at her scalp and enjoying the content sighs she let out. There was a harmony to how you and JJ fucked. Where you'd often find in relationships one person getting off a significant amount of times more, a giver and receiver dynamic if you will, that was nothing like what you two had. Together, you walked the line of balance well, but at that moment, feeling her above you, tasting her tongue in your mouth, and remembering the way she looked at you whilst giving yet another brain-numbing orgasm, it made you want to give her more - give her everything. 

You wanted to make sure that come the following days, she'd be so sore she wouldn't even consider letting Will touch her, let alone fuck her. Trying to eliminate the possessiveness and jealousy that lay dormant within you was useless, so in times like these, you used it for good. You could show JJ that no one else could do this for her. Her body was painted into your mind so clearly that you could be blinded and still tell it was her from touch alone. You could have your memory taken away, but with a pencil and paper, you'd draw the dips of her hips, the creases beside her eyes, and the jutting knuckles that run along her slender fingers. No one else knew her body like you; the need to remind her of it was dire. 

Using her kiss befuddled mind to your advantage; it was easy to flip the tables and trap JJ beneath you. The move earned you a shocked yelp, though the second your lips found a dusky nipple, no complaints were heard. Only sultry moans warmed your ears. 

Palms pushed the back of your head down whilst JJ arched to fit more of herself into your mouth, and you dutifully took her in. It didn't matter that you could hardly breathe, not when you could feel and hear how JJ's breath was catching in her throat and how her heart was hammering against her chest. 

After giving the older woman's breast the much-needed attention they deserved, you sought your sights lower. Leaving a shimmering trail down JJ's taut stomach, you crawled back on the bed and positioned yourself comfortably between two muscled thighs. A sharp inhale from above, and hands fisting in your hair were sign enough for you to drive forward and deliver a long lick along JJ's slit, closing your eyes to enjoy the bitter flavour of her exploding over your tastebuds. 

It wasn't long before you worked JJ up into a wiggling mess. It was painstakingly evident from the tireless efforts of the blonde's buckling hips that the lack of notice of her clit was becoming a problem. Taking pity, you sought to eradicate JJ's frustrations. With one final up swipe of your teasing tongue, you brought your lips to her needy clit and sucked. The gratification echoed around the hotel room as JJ slapped a palm over her mouth to keep quiet. 

You kept going, alternating between sucking and licking, occasionally moving south to tease JJ's cunt with the stiffened end of your tongue, then returning to her clit. 

"Don't stop," JJ breathily begged, "Don't you dare stop."

And you didn't, not for a second. You continued lathering JJ with unbridled pleasure, coaxing her body into a quivering mess until the muscles in her stomach were painfully tense and only then did you ease two fingers inside her. The pace you immediately set was vigorous, thrusting in and out of her so quickly her body was struggling to keep up. With her head flung back, JJ came with your name on her lips, breathily panting. Yet, still, you wanted more. 

Sitting up, you waited for JJ to regulate her breathing as she held tight to your forearms and only then did you start moving your fingers again. Nestling your head in her neck, you moved faster, finding and hitting a spot deep inside JJ that had her digging her nails into your skin, marring you with crescent moons dotted in red. The pain only motivated you to keep going, fucking into her harder until she was all but screaming and sure to be heard. You didn't care. She was perfect like this: panting, out of control and solely focused on what you were doing to her. 

Your arm began to protest; it ached and cramped, but you fought hard against it, using your body to drive in and out of JJ's exhausted pussy. Over and over, she spoke your name, hushed this time, as her awareness of where she was prevailed. 

Sensing JJ's orgasm from the pulsing clenches around your fingers, you snuck your thumb over a tender clit and added another finger to your thrusts. The additional force sent her toppling over the edge, but you didn't stop even then. You continued to fuck her right through her orgasm, biting into the flesh of her neck to keep her crying out. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' JJ cried out, "I-"

She never finished, a third orgasm rapidly washing over her, snapping her spine and leaving her motionless, half off the bed. Her jaw was trembling, and her eyes wedged closed, but the starting of a contented smile was tugging the side of her lips. When she slumped down on the mattress, she was boneless and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw in steady breaths, "Fuck," she finally whispered, her eyes still closed and a tear falling down the side of her cheek, "Fuck." 

Settling down next to her, resting on one elbow, you mindlessly traced patterns along her glistening stomach, smirking proudly to yourself. Aftercare had always been a big thing between the two of you, and after what you'd just done, she looked like she needed it. So you stayed that way for a while, laid down together, occasionally sharing innocent kisses and soft smiles until you wound up in each other's arms. JJ lay atop you, her leg becoming a blanket to your waist, her head and breath a chest warmer. 

"When were you going to tell me," JJ asked, and you looked down to see her eyes already on you. 

Moving strands of silky blonde hair behind JJ's ear, you give her a questioning look, "Tell you about what?" 

The question seemed to infuriate her. She shuffled out of your embrace and leaned back against the headboard, giving you a blank stare. "You don't want to go," JJ proudly stated her opinion as fact, arms folded across her chest as a finger steadily taps away at her forearm, "You know you'll get bored sitting behind a desk so much."

Brushing off the fact she had a point and focussing on remaining civil but not coming off as a pushover, you held your ground, "It's a good opportunity, and I'm not not considering taking it," you were silently begging her to understand, your eyebrows knitted together and lip wedged between your teeth.

"Come on, you can't be serious," she humorlessly laughed. The audacity of her tone gave you half a mind to walk out. You didn't, though, because this had to happen at some point, be it now or in a few days. 

"What's left for me here?" you asked, eyes trained on the blonde, your finger under her chin keeping her from looking away and trying to escape. If she wanted you to stay, so desperately as she seemed to, she owed you this, "Give me one good reason I should stay." 

Her lips parted, her jaw moving up and down in small increments. It was like the words she wanted to say were there, but she was fighting to get them out. You gave her time, looking at her with expectant eyes, softening your gaze to encourage whatever was trapped in her bobbing throat, but nothing came. Then her mouth snapped shut as though someone had tugged on an invisible string sewn through pink velvety lips, permanently sealing them. 

The silence became too loud. It sought to engulf you, swallow you up so that all you'd hear was the sound of your own broken heart beating so painfully loud it made your chest ache. Your arms felt limp as you slung them to your side and rolled on your back, staring at the ceiling. It felt cold and bare without the promise of another comforting embrace because somehow you knew there was an unspoken realisation that this was truly the end of something. 

The stinging behind your eyes had made itself known fully, and you couldn't handle JJ seeing you like this. Straightening yourself out with a roll of your shoulder and a lengthy exhale, you stood up, threw on your clothes while ignoring the awkward atmosphere that circulated the room and made your way to the door. Turning back before you exited, you sneered, "I thought so," and slammed the door shut behind you. 

To say the next day was awkward would be an understatement. If the team had noticed the tension between you and JJ, which they most likely had, they used their better judgment to ignore it and focus solely on the case. From the corner of your eye, you noticed their regular stares, but you knew it was their way of ensuring you were okay. Once you caught on, you offered small smiles and brief nods that told them all was well, and you were thankful that that was enough to ease their curiosities. 

It wasn't till much later in the day, when you were packing up to head back to the hotel, did JJ acknowledge your existence, and you weren't having any of it. She approached you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking out with Reid and Emily. Instead of doing the mature thing, which would have been to wait for JJ to catch up and deal with your suffocating predicament, you gave her the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence completely and walking out. 

A faint sigh came from the room you'd just vacated, and you fought against your better judgment to head back to the hotel and put the whole day behind you. It was for the best; you needed time to think, and you still had a looming decision hanging over your head. It was a life-changing decision; you couldn't afford to cloud your mind with a frivolous affair. 

With what comfort a shabby mattress could offer, you settled back, opened your laptop, looked at some apartment listings, checked over the job description a couple more times, and re-read the email, indeed confirming you had been offered the job if you wished to take it. Despite your best efforts, the god-forsaken argument continued to play in your head: JJ's dejected look when she was unable to voice her true feelings, the razor-sharp tone she used to admonish you and most of all, her inability to give you the one thing you needed that would have turned the tables and made your decision for you. 

A knock at your door pulled you from said incessant thoughts. You'd have been grateful for the distraction had you not sensed who would likely be your 'knight in shining armour'. Rising and looking through the peephole confirmed your suspicions, and an involuntary groan slipped free. 

"Real mature," JJ quipped. Taking a deep breath and then staring pleadingly into the peephole where she knew you were standing, she tried again, "Sorry. Please, can we talk?" 

The door fractionally opened, enough for you to slip your head out and huff, "I'm exhausted, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with this now." 

"I'll give you one," she muttered under her breath.

"Give me what?" You huff. 

Opening the door to let her in, already fed up with where this conversation was inevitably headed - which was most likely an argument - you move over to lean against the outdated armchair. 

JJ watched your movements as she shut the door and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "A reason," she began, looking down at her left hand. You curiously followed her gaze. There on her finger sat an elegant diamond ring, glinting in the lamplight. It was a sickly sight, and the vexing thing was it never used to be. Your stomach lurched, forcing you to avert your gaze to keep yourself from spewing your dinner onto the atrocious carpet. Honestly, it was a mystery that the team wasn't investigating who committed this interior design crime. 

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," she took long strides towards you, and you shot your head up to see, in the blink of an eye, JJ was standing tall right above you. Her fingers fidgeted with her engagement ring before she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. The boldness of the move left you momentarily frozen until you were pulled to your feet by your waist and felt a pair of lips ghosting over yours, "And if you'll have me, I want you."

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[monstrousvoice]

Bar Snack

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Relationship: Husk X Female Reader

AN: It is 4am and I wake up. I see this post and am struck with the desire to write smut.

I do so.

Tags: PWP, Female Reader, Reader has a vulva, Cunnilingous, Sex in a Public Space, Daddy Kink, Mentions of Husk being on the chubbier side, If I missed any tags please let me know

Read on AO3!

“J-just hold still, alright?”

“You mister, have had too much!” You laugh, even as you let Husk manhandle you onto the bar top. The tips of his claws prick at the soft flesh of your hips and the sting has you biting your lip and hissing in pleasure. Husk's ears twitch and rotate to face you, taking in every noise you make. His golden eyes lock on to you, pupils dilating and contracting rapidly. He lets out a low growl.

“So what? Just…just need to hear you, need to-...to taste you a little, baby-” He leans forward, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing your scent. You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him closer to you. You feel his teeth ever so gently graze across your neck, following the coarse feeling of his tongue as he licks you without shame. A sudden nip has your hips bucking towards the counter edge and against his own, your legs wrapping tight around his hips. 

You can feel him, his hardening cock slipping out of his sheath and pressing against you. His wings flutter before you, tense with the muscles in his back as Husk makes it his mission to suck a hickey onto every available spot of your neck and shoulders. His claws, still on your hips, dip underneath the edge of the dress you have on, pushing the fabric up to stay bunched up around your waist.

“W-what if-what if someone comes in-?” Your voice is no better than a whisper, your breath stolen by the attention being lavished upon you. Even as you worry, your hand moves from its clawed grip on his shoulder to travel down, and you smirk in victory when you find your prize. You cup Husk's growing bulge, outlining the shape of his hard cock and balls through his pants. You give his balls a gentle squeeze and are rewarded with his hips bucking into your hand, wings flaring, and a bite on your shoulder that does nothing to muffle his possessed growl. 

You keen, proud of yourself. 

“F-fuckin slut-” He hisses against your tender new mark. “Acting so worried but you go and do that.” His tone is harsh, but the gentle lapping of his tongue shows he's anything but angry. 

“Just because my Daddy doesn't-” You moan, interrupted as his paw moves to your cunt and presses. “-m-make the best decisions, doesn't mean I'm not gonna take care of him~” Husk chuckles, a deep, low sound that vibrates through your body. Your hips are moving on their own, rocking your hot core against the fingers still pushing that maddening pressure against you. Your slick is leaking through your panties and you know he can feel it. 

“You do take care of me, don't ya baby doll?” The tenderness in his voice is unexpected but not unwelcome. Husk hooks a finger from his free hand under chin, turning you to look him in the eye. “You’re always there for me, bad day or no…my good girl.” His pupils are wide and fuzzy, and the tenderness you see directed at you is almost too much to bear. You practically freeze, locked under those eyes as he leans forward and kisses you with such softness it feels dream-like. You press back, welcoming his affection with a moan of bliss and fluttering eyelashes.

His tongue meets with yours as the fingers pressed against your cunt move again. You feel the pressure ease away and almost whine into the kiss, before feeling his claws hook under the fabric of your panties. The sound of seams ripping hits you, and you're distantly aware that you are, yet again, down another pair of panties. You don't really mind though, not when losing them leads to situations like this. 

Husk's claws are back to your drooling slit, tracing up and down with a sort of reverence. Your pussy feels hot and slick, and Husk groans low in his chest when he uses two fingers to spread your lips, your arousal drenching his fingers. He pulls away from kissing you and you pathetically chase after him for more. He presses another quick one to your bruising lips, then another when you keep following after him. 

“Alright baby-” He grunts, and you press more kisses to his muzzle, trying to bring him back for more. “C-c’mon sweet girl-no more…” You stop, leaning hard into his chest, the weight of his tummy pressing into yours. You whimper and bite your bottom lip, wanting to protest but knowing better than to do so. You try to plead instead. 

“Pl-please daddy? Just, fuck, just a couple more while you f-fuck me? Please?” You grind your cunt against his fingers as you beg, unashamed at the possibility that someone else in the hotel could walk in to find you moaning like a whore for the bartender's touch.

“No baby, no, cause I'm not gonna fuck you-” Your heart drops at his words, desperation and fear immediately setting in. Your mind races with things you could have done to deserve a punishment tonight, and you watch with wide eyes as Husk lowers himself to his knees before you. 

“Yet.” He hisses. Relief floods you instantly, and by the mischievous glint in his eye, Husk knows how worked up his words made you. He chuckles and moves his hands to your thighs, cupping them and pushing them apart to give himself a first-class view of your cunt. You bite your bottom lip and look away, closing your eyes as your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You can feel his paws move closer to your pussy, until his thumbs are suddenly touching. He plays with your lips for a moment, his thumbs spreading your slick everywhere before hooking them and spreading you open.

Your cunt is forced to gape before his eyes, fluttering with arousal despite the mortification burning you alive. 

“Fuck, what a pretty cunt. Already this wet from some kisses and rubbing? Heh, you're dripping on the floor at this point.” You whimper and keen, peaking an eye open to look down at him. His eyes are like molten gold as he stares back at you. 

“Don't be embarrassed baby girl, it's alright. Daddy’s gonna clean up your mess.” You barely have time to process his words before he leans forward and trails one long lick up your pussy. Your hips buck immediately at the feeling of his rough tongue against you, pushing your hips up into his muzzle. 

“S-s-sorry Daddy-!” You whimper, but Husk doesn't stop. He simply wraps one of his thick, heavy arms over your hips and pins you to the bar top, licking away at your cunt like he doesn't have a care in hell. You shudder and gasp, your hips twitching to grind against his mouth for more than rough kitten licks but unable to with his arm pinning you down. The knowledge makes your blood burn hotter, seeing how easy it is for him to control and manipulate your body to his will. His claws dig into the fat of your thigh and hip as he eats you out like a five-star meal. 

You feel his tongue wiggle inside, your gummy walls clenching down in response to squeeze a cock that isn't there. Husk lets out a purr in response, the only sound in the hotel bar besides the slick ‘slurp’ noises he makes as he sucks your clit like it's his favorite piece of candy. You can only throw your head back against the bar and endure his assault, wishing that the sweet torture would never end. 

“D-Daddy, fuck-! Please, please d-don't stop, please-” Your words start to slur together as you beg for more. You bring a shaking hand from your face to your hips, gripping the paw holding you down like a lifeline. A sharp nip to the hood of your clit has you gasping, sitting up straight to look down at your boyfriend with shock. He doesn't stop, still lapping away at your fluttering cunt. His eyes are hooded, taking in the sight of you sitting above him, losing your mind on his talented tongue. He pulls away from his feast only briefly to rumble a command at you. 

“Hold my head baby, don't let go.”

You do as you’re told, taking your hand not holding his and carding it through the fur on top of his head. Husk lets out a pleased rumble before diving back in, suckling your swollen clit without mercy. You cry out, throwing your head back and gasping at the sensation. 

You're so close, you can feel the coil in your cunt, the pleasure shooting through your veins that lets you know your orgasm is on its way-you just need-need a little more-

A new sound reaches your ears, wet and slick like the sounds coming from your cunt, but just off ever so slightly-

You look down at Husk, his eyes closed as he loses himself to your taste. You can see his breath steam up as he snorts from his nose, drowning in your smell. Looking down further you see it, past the wonderful thick belly you nuzzle into every night. Husk has undone his pants one handed while eating you out, and his free hand, you hadn't even noticed it leaving your thigh, was fisted around his cock. Pink and red peaked at you from between his fingers as he tried to jerk himself in unison with his mouth as he ate you out. A thick glob of precum was drooling from his cock head, getting swiped up by his thumb to make his hand move slicker, only to be immediately replaced by more. 

A full body shudder tore through you at the sight, your own mouth drooling with the desire to have that fat cock shoved down your throat as Husk moaned for you. It was enough, and your cunt squeezed tight around nothing as Husk licked and sucked your clit.

“C-cumming-” You gave a breathless cry, hips bucking in vain against Husk's strong grip, your orgasm tearing through you with an intensity that had your toes curling and thighs squeezing tight around Husk's head. He simply moaned low in response, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing and your hand pulling his fur as you lost yourself to him. He continued lapping at your swollen and puffy cunt, making sure not one drop of your cum was forgotten by his tongue. Even as your body fell boneless under him, he kept licking and sucking, moving to the meat of your thighs to leave hickeys and bite marks as you recovered and learned how to be alive again. 

“How ya feeling baby doll? Talk to me.” He spoke, his voice sounding gravely and deep even to himself, thick with lust he hasn't had a chance to relieve yet. He tucked his still hard cock back inside his pants, zipping it up just enough to keep himself from popping back out. He stood back up, leaning over your limp body on the tabletop. You gave him a dazed smile from where you lay.

“G-good…thank you Daddy, for letting me cum…” Husk smiled, pulling you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You whimpered into his mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you off the bar top and into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his hips immediately, your still sensitive pussy being pressed against his hard cock, covered in fabric. He pulled away from your kiss, adjusting you in his grip as he began walking towards the hotel elevator. 

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he walked. “Now, you're gonna be a good doll and let Daddy have his turn, yeah? I need a tight little hole to fuck~” He growled in your ear. You felt the vibrations from his chest travel through your whole body. Despite cumming already, your pussy throbbed at his words, and you moaned. 

“Y-yes Daddy, whatever you want-” You managed to whimper, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he carried you to your shared bedroom.

~~~~~~~

The following morning, Husk walked behind the bar to find a note folded with his name on it. He raised a feathered eyebrow, feeling curious as he opened it. It was Charlie's neat cursive. 

Husk,

Nifty found a rather…interesting piece of clothing early this morning when cleaning. I frankly don't want to know what you two were doing last night, I don't need details, but I do ask that you clean up after yourselves at least. 

Thank you! 

Husk snorted, pocketing the note to show you and laugh about later. He supposed now he and the princess were even, considering the sight he had walked in on in the kitchen just a week ago.

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Husk #Hazbin Hotel Husk X Reader #Husk X Reader #Smut #My Writing #I havent written smut in forever and I feel so goddamn rusty at it #please judge with a grain of salt

[mare-noctis-studios]

Ambrosia

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion x You (gn terms) CW: Blood drinking, Vampirism, Allusions to Sex

Astarion is a True Vampire and decides he is allowed to have the things he wants for eternity

“You look so lovely like this darling. So… obedient. Maybe I should keep you like this. My spawn. Mine for eternity.”

You begin to protest, but the words died unspoken on your lips as a wave of thought washed through you. It wrapped around your brain with a comforting warmth. It was so nice to just give in. Astarion’s eyes glowed in the firelight, warm as the blood that thrums through your heart, and a fond smile graced his lips.

It was an odd feeling. Your brain was still your own, your own thoughts and beliefs, and yet at a simple command the desire to obey overpowers all else.

Your eyes speak the words your lips cannot, and the smile grows wider - revealing pointed fangs stained red.

“You now see why a vampire hardly converts his spawn. The power you have over one, to make them obey to your every whim. Your puppet, to do with as you please” The downturn of his lips betrayed his own memories, the sour taste of panic in your throat as he continued to burn holes with his gaze. You feel the tadpole squirm in your brain, lashing out at the control with its own desire to dominate. Leaning into that feeling you let authority wash over as your minds touched briefly, a gentle caress as you wrapped one of his silver curls around you finger, delight shining deep in his eyes like the glimmer of coin in a well.

“You never needed to prove your torment to me Astarion” you say softly, letting the illithid power battle the vampire domination as you fall to your knees, face upturned to bare your soul. “I trust you.”

A hand reaches out, cold and pale to brush over your cheek, thumb brushing the plump of your lower lip as you graze the pad of his finger.

Something akin to childlike wonder crept across Astarion’s face as he lifted your top lip gently to reveal what would become fangs, sinking slowly to his knees as hands roamed your neck and chest.

“By the Nine Hells, I do not deserve something as good as you” he whispered, pulling the strings of your shirt undone so he could rid you of the fabric. You followed suit, gently pulling the ruffle up so that his bare chest was mere inches away from yours, letting your hands explore the poem carved across his back.

“You may not deserve me,” you breathe, ghosting your lips in featherlight kisses across his jaw, teasing the skin at the hinge as his hands tangle in your hair. “But you have me all the same.”

Astarion pulled back for a moment, studying the slowly drying blood trails from the wound on your neck with keen interest. He brought stained fingers to his nose and sighed, tenderly licking the remnants away.

“I am going to miss this, dear. You as my sole sustenance, the very reason I continue my existence in this realm. You taste exquisite, my love, and it is a shame that such delicacy is to be lost forever.”

You smile at that, tilting your head as you let a playful tone stretch out between your shared minds. “Yes, I will be disappointing my other dinner guests it seems. Maybe I should back out while I can?”

A lance of poisonous anger pierced your mind, but it only made you laugh. Your beautiful, exquisite, possessive partner.

“Not that I offered my neck to anyone.” You let your smile slip into something more sensual, running your hands up his side until they came to rest at his jaw, pulling him forward in a near kiss. “Only you Astarion. It has only every been you.”

Your breath mingles in the moment as you tease his bottom lip between your teeth, biting just hard enough to indent skin. A promise of what’s to come. His hands tighten in the roots of your hair as he bares his neck with a groan, eyes falling closed as shifts even closer. You take a moment to pull him fully into your lap, guiding long legs around your waist, as desire flares white hot in your veins. Desire to consume, to devour the sinful being at your mercy. Astarion melted slightly in your hold, pressing open mouthed kisses to your temple.

“Feed, my love” he panted, pressing his chest tight to yours as shivers of anticipation overtook him. “Indulge yourself, for we may enjoy these proclivities for an eternity hereafter.”

You smile, nosing gently over the faint puncture marks from Cazador. “An eternity you say?” Anticipation thrums through your heart as you pull Astarion into a searing kiss. “I could think of nothing more delightful” you whisper, teeth grazing gently at the raised scars on his throat. You feel Astarion swallow once, twice, and with one final tug closer you bite.

Iron fills your senses as blood rushes forth, cool like water from a mountain spring, and you crave. Hands tightening in Astarion’s hair you draw his head to the side exposing his neck even more, hungrily drinking from the veritable fountain as blood settled deep and comforting within your body. You feel Astarion’s body shaking in your lap as you register the soft groans of delight coming from the throat under your tongue. Power blooms within you, the tadpole squirming in delight as you feel the tendrils of vampiric touch so familiar from Astarion’s own mind begin to take root, branching out and wrapping themselves around the fibre of your very being. Blood trickles out of your mouth and down your neck but its pales in comparison to the explosion of taste across your tongue.

Never had you thought blood would taste anything other than the metallic tang you had experienced in your own life’s injuries, but here you are. Astarion once described your taste as something akin to a fine wine - razor sharp yet delicate enough for most uses – however fine did not do him justice.

Astarion was exquisite. Cool and full-bodied, he tasted of sweet nectar and crisp air on a winter’s night, and you were an addict. Blood poured down your throat as Astarion strained a moan into your hair, his own excitement settling against your stomach, and you begin the monumental effort of slaking your thirst. Lapping at the wounds until they no longer flowed freely you met him halfway in a passionate kiss, the blood of you both mingling on your tongue in a way that overshadowed any pairing you had tasted before.

Alone, Astarion was exquisite. Together? Not even the finest ambrosia from the gods could hold a candle to the tase of you.

Astarion seemed eager to rid the last vestiges of clothes between you, and you hastily followed – not caring for the blood you two smeared on each other in the process – and soon you found yourself with Astarion’s legs around your waist and your mouth leaving a patina of love-bites across his chest. With every bite you feel your canines sharpening, until every bruise was accompanied by small punctures, each one driving your lover further and further over the edge into ecstasy.

Soon you were collapsing beside him, nose pressed into the open wound at his neck, his hands tracing lines from your own bite wound down to your heart. Even now, mere hours after your conversion, you feel your chest grow still – no longer needing to breathe – and the warmth of the fire more noticeable in your embrace.

“Thank you” you murmur, tongue gently cleaning the dried blood trail.

Astarion made a noise of contented pleasure, letting you continue your ministrations with the languid grace of a sated predator. “You trusted me to let you convert fully” he mused, seemingly to the empty air above your head but you smiled all the same, pressing a final kiss to the bite wound on his neck.

“Of course,” you say simply, propping up on one elbow to look at him fully. “I trusted that your desire for me would outweigh any tyrannical ideas you might have upon gaining a spawn of your own.” Your knowing smile was met with a mildly sheepish look, so you lean down to kiss it away. “Now, as you say, I can enjoy the machinations of your desire for eternity.”

Maybe I will continue this, or similar stories with the other companions as I get inspired. Let me know what you think Thanks for reading! K

If you would like to be added to the Astarion fic tag list please comment a 🩸

#astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfiction #the-fandom-files #archive of our own #k-e-birch #writing #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #birch writes #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg 3 tav #baldur's gate 3 tav #baldurs gate 3 tav

[http-finnick]

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

finnick odair x fem!reader

summary: as finnick sneaks back into your cart during the victory tour, you start to pity him as he wraps his arms around you, knowing that this is all for the captiol and none of it is true...at least not for you.

cw: almost one-sided love, katniss and peeta trope, no smut, and lots of crying.

with how the trains speeds you feel as tho you're flying, laying in your bed with the new weather outside your window. yesterday it was snowing, now it's spring.

the silk bedsheets mold your skin as you lay there, regretful.

a hand snakes under and up to your abdomen, the scent of musk heavy on your nostrils as he pushes himself closer to your back.

he sighs once he has your touch back into his grip and you stay put, hoping he falls back to sleep.

it was a mistake, letting him back into your bed again.

it wasn't like you two did anything..it's just for the nightmares. but still.

he thumbs your shoulder softly, brushing the finger on your body to test your awareness, you feel his eyes on your neck.

once he gets no indication of your conciseness, he dips down to lay a soft, quick kiss on your neck.

it makes you shiver, a little fever sparking in your spine for that moment. it wasn't forced for his own excitement, it was a little good morning for you.

and that just makes it worse.

you pretend to flutter your eyes and he quickly sinks back into the silk sheets. you sit up and drowsily grab a towel before walking towards the bathroom that's connected to your cart.

you eye him as you take tip-toe steps, as if not to wake him. but you catch his lips flashing a soft smile before forcing down into a line.

you sprint into the bathroom and turn on the shower as you feel your chest heavy with breaths. you lock the door and sink down as you choke on air and have tears rush out of your eyes

he loves you

he loves you so much.

your mind brings you back to Annies sobs and pleas for you to return finnick to her, safely. to bring her love back.

I wonder how she felt seeing you brush his hair back in the arena before dipping down to kiss his puffy lips.

I wonder how she felt when 'her love' came home with a new love.

you confessed to him on the train that it was a lie. your love wasn't real and you watched him fight back tears while putting on a sad smile

"it's okay, really"

that's what he told you when you turned to look back out the window of the train car. you knew it wasn't your place but your cloudy mind thought it was a good idea

"fin...um...Annie was talking to me before the games and-"

"please. I don't want to hear anything about annie cresta."

so you both sat in silence as the train brought you back to four.

and now, on your victory tour with the capitol and everyone breathing down your neck, you realize that you will never have a life without odair being next to it.

you can't help but claw at your chest with sobs as the shower spits water at you, because finnick takes this as a chance, a chance for you to love him.

but you would never give yourself that chance

not with that promise you gave to annie.

and not with that vow you gave to yourself.

an: I might do a part 2 for this, katniss and peeta trope is such a good one I just had to make some angst for it. I hope that you guys liked it even though its short :( I'm sorry I cant do super super long ones, I just write when I can and post right after lmao. Also my babies!!! We got to 70 followers! I love you guys so much, when I started this acc I didn't think anyone would still be around for thg content, but you guys came through and made me love the fandom even more...I love you guys so much! mwah!

part 2

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick odair imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick x annie #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagines #finnick odair #the hunger games rp #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #thg rp #thg x reader #thg headcanons #thg fanfiction #thg finnick

[ohtobeleah]

The Marksman // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: When Bradley Bradshaw, the most senior chief sniper with the NCIS, is called out to a hostage situation, he comes face to face with his greatest fear in life. His fiancée is on the hostage list.

Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw NCIS au. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Gun violence. Hostage situation. Injuries inflicted on reader due to gun violence. Heavy themes.

Word Count: 8.6k

Author Note: This has been this fanfic’s third rewrite for its third fandom and I will take it with me to every fandom I end up in. This is also not to be confused with my NCIS series. And you don’t have to have seen NCIS to read this. xxx ~ Leah

Bradley Bradshaw or “Rooster” As most of the world knew him better as— (He himself had always prepared the casual nickname over anything else) had a unique skill set. 

He simply. Never. Missed. 

His ability was unparalleled. He was undoubtedly the most skilled and above all the highest-ranking Marksman in the NCIS - The Naval. Criminal. Investigative. Service. Beside Rooster, there was Jake Seresin. His best friend, his partner. His annoying voice of reason and brother in arms. 

Wherever Bradley Bradshaw went Jake Seresin wasn’t far behind. Gone were the days where they’d dick around in pre-flight checks, gone were the days where they’d spend hours pulling G’s and soaring high as jet fuel burned up in the atmosphere. A dynamic duo that served to be more humbling than most, had an incredibly intense and demanding job title. 

Bradley though, well he always made time to enjoy the little things in life in and amongst the highly stressful and sometimes dangerous situations he found himself in. 

It was something new, something he didn’t really see the point in for a long time. To stop and smell the roses from time to time. Life was seemingly precious and beautiful, although Bradley more than most people knew that in the blink of an eye things could change. That worlds could be turned inside and on their head and shaken to their very foundations. 

He’d lost his father at a young age. So young he barely remembered the figment of his father that still remained in his memory—the only faces he could picture now were those he saw in photographs his mother used to have scattered around his childhood home. He kept those photographs and now proudly displayed them above the fireplace in his home, his mother and father had weaved themselves in and out of medallions and awards that over the years Rooster had accumulated. 

His mother, Carole, had unexpectedly passed a few years before he joined the Naval Academy, leaving him hollow. Bradley droned on through life on autopilot, just doing what he had to do in order to get where he wanted to go. 

But how could Rooster not enjoy the life he’d built for himself, how could he not bask in the glory of the success he’d had in two highly demanding job titles. How could Bradley not love every second of every day that passed him by, how could he not? When he had the most beautiful and intelligent woman by his side. You. Y/n Y/l/n, or soon to be Y/n Y/l/n-Bradshaw. A stunning white gold engagement ring wrapped around your delicately manicured finger most days of the week if not all the days that ended in, well, day. A symbol of love and commitment, a physical reminder of the love Rooster had for you. He wanted you in his life forever. He’d love you forever and a day and you him.

Rooster just adored his soon to be wife, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world to have your perfect self by his side. Every morning before Rooster went to work you would make him a coffee and a slice of avocado toast. It was just a part of your love language—acts of service. Making sure your soon to be husband was always well fed and maintained a balanced diet was just a small step in that process. 

You were his backbone, without you? Rooster was pretty sure he’d implode. He’d be stuck with Jake and although he loved him dearly, Rooster had already decided that wasn’t an option he was willing to take. 

Life was hard—challenging at times and sometimes Rooster was the taker of that challenging life. That fact could weigh heavily on even the toughest of men. It was something Bradley was plagued with, nightmares riddled his memory, and stole energy from him on taxing days. It made him question almost daily what type of man he was, who he was protecting, why he was the way he was. What was the reason behind the path his life had led? But with you by his side, life could be a little good, life could be just a little great, life could be somewhat perfect for even just a moment......until it wasn’t.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about this particular morning. Rooster groaned as his alarm went off at a crisp 4am, the smell of his fiancée freshly cleaned hair a soothing note in the air around him. Hints of juniper and raspberries danced across the pillows you’d fallen asleep on. 

His back stung—marks from last night and nights prior still prominent and deep. Your cat claws had scratched at his muscles when he’d hit deep—hit hard. Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist, his tight hold and bulging muscles held you tight in his grip. The gentle touch of warm flesh was strikingly different to the cool of the morning air that threatened to take you hostage, that threatened to steal you away from the warmth of your soon to be husband and comfortable bed. 

“Mornin.” Rooster grumbled into your soft and supple neck. Small and delicate goosebumps soon littered your skin as you smiled softly and moaned in response, snuggling into the covers a little more as Bradley’s hands groped at your breast from under the shirt you’d stolen from him. “Mornin honey.” 

“No, not mornin, stay in bed—“ You incoherently mumbled back, eyes still closed. Face pressed heavily into your pillows. “Stay in bed just for five more minutes.” It was a plea that fell on deaf ears as Bradley leaned in to kiss your cheek and shoulder lovingly. 

“Can’t.” He chuckled softly. “Gotta have a shower.” Untangling himself from his semi-naked fiancée, Bradley took a second to admire your beauty. Bradley really was in love, oh so in love. He thought he’d never find this kind of love until he met you. 

While Rooster showered—revelling in the steam that opened his pores as he sat on the built-in step, you trudged your tired self into the kitchen with fuzzy slippers adorning your feet and began your morning ritual. Two coffees, two pieces of avocado toast and a face mask. Time? 4:15am 

Sitting at the dining table with your laptop open, you slowly sipped at your coffee as you began paying the monthly bills. You were always smart with numbers, with maths in general. Specifically financial statements and savings. 

As a banker, you were always in your own head dealing with other people’s financial positions. So much so you sometimes disregarded your own health and well-being, you’d only just noticed that the smell of the freshly smashed avocado made you want to vomit as you raised it closer to your mouth. Gagging as you placed it back onto the plate. 

 It smelt like rotting flesh.

Without thinking too much into it you pressed finalise payments for yours and Rooster ’s monthly bills. Forgetting you hadn’t added the phone bill yet. A pretty substantial payment in all honesty. 

“Oh god—“ You held a hand across your mouth as you gagged and rushed over to the sink to spill your guts. Coughing and spewing the content of your stomach which technically wasn’t much being so early in the morning—but that didn’t change the fact you genuinely loved avocados.

As you washed your hands and mouth out— you sighed leaning on the bench. Wiping the evidence of your sudden throw up from the corner of your chin as your soon to be husband rounded the corner, fixing his casual button-down. Hair still wet like an ungroomed labrodour. Mustache perfectly combed as you lost sight of the tufted of chest hair Bradley covered up as he finished doing his shirt up. 

“You good mama?” That nickname sent shivers down your spine. A true shock to the system—you and Rooster hadn’t been actively trying. You both wanted to wait until after the wedding. But then again, you hadnt been actively trying to prevent things either. 

You stood there biting your lip in a trance-like state for a few seconds. Having an existential crisis as to whether or not you should tell Rooster you just chucked at the smell of avocados, ultimately you opted to keep quiet. You didn’t want to get his hopes up, you knew he wanted to be a father more than anything else in life. 

“I’m fine— just a little off this morning? I might actually go back to bed when you leave.” You weren’t lying per se, you really were feeling sick.

“Maybe you should call in sick? Can someone take your shift?” Rooster asked, sipping the coffee you’d ever so nicely made him. Toast in his other hand dropping crumbs all over his shirt as you reached to dust them off for him. “Want my girl always feeling fine.” You couldn’t help but let out a soft scoff at the term of endearment that fell effortlessly from Bradley Bradshaw's lips ever so gently. You had always been and would always be his girl. 

“Despite want you want, Bradshaw, sometimes life isn’t always the fairest and we get stuck with unforeseen sickness.” You were smart—always had a comeback that left Rooster speechless with your ability to communicate. “Guess my number was up.” 

“You know–” Rooster reached down to place a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I wish I could stay and play nurse with you honey.” Rooster teased as he took a bite of his avocado toast. “But I’m already running late.” Your soon to be husband moved away as he smiled, glancing at the laptop as he did so. “You paid the bills already?” He asked, a frown apparent on his face at the total figure at the bottom of the screen. 

“Yeah it’s lower than I thought it wou—“

“Where’s the phone bill, did we already pay it separate this month or--” Rooster quickly glanced over the total amount breakdown. The penny dropped in your head as you felt another bout of sickness threatening to blow. 

“Oh shit, I must’ve missed it, here I’ve got time I’ll fix it up now—“ With a mouthful of food Rooster sighed in slight frustration.

“Yeah, that would be great bub.” Bradley finished his coffee in a hurry. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s more of an Inconvenience really—I’m definitely looking forward to that late fee.” Rooster scoffed back a little groan as he picked his jacket up from the coat rack by the front door. “I gotta go, I’m already late—bye beautiful!” Before shutting the door. The sound of his keys rattled through your head as you stood in the kitchen frazzled with what had just happened.

Rooster never left without saying ‘I love you’ Rooster never left without a goodbye kiss. And he just had. Why now? Did he see through your white lie? Did he already know somehow before you did? You hadn’t even taken a test! Was Rooster running away from you? Did he not want a child with you? What happened to wanting to be a father? Did he change his mind all of a sudden? All the possibilities that could have triggered Rooster’s sudden departure rushed through your sensitive head. But all it was was he was running late. 

Rooster hit his hands on the steering wheel of his car when he realised what he’d done. He’d blatantly forgotten to tell his soon to be wife he loved you wholeheartedly. Forgot in a flurry to get out the door and off to work to kiss your soft and supple lips goodbye. Rooster swore he’d buy you flowers on his way home. That would make you smile. Surely that would make it up to you. A gentle reminder of how much he loved you.

Because he did love you endlessly—without you? Bradley Bradshaw would be well, nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~

“Dude? You’re fucking late?” Jake mumbled from his desk as he saw the elevator open to reveal his MIA partner. Bradley had given Jake Seresin his callsign way back in their days at the naval academy, before they could tolerate one another. As it turned out the callsign transferred quite seamlessly as they transitioned into a new chapter of their lives. Together and apart. 

Jake was always late—especially while his wife was away. No one was around to keep him in check. Hangman always left Rooster hanging. Unintentionally and without malice. He just never got the timing right on traffic. 

“You’re never late!” 

“Good thing I’m here now huh.” Rooster sassed as he walked past Jake at his desk and dropped to his. Despite being a senior in his own department, Rooster still liked working in the field with Jake. It was their thing. A dynamic duo of utter mayhem and chaos. “What’s in the stack today?” Rooster sighed and kicked his feet up onto his deck. Jake couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated groan as he picked up the three case files and did the same. Mimicking Rooster from across the little hall that separated their decks. 

“We got a domestic on the naval base—according to the report her husband came back from deployment and was acting strange, she questioned him, he spazzed out and now she’s filing charges.”

“Fair call.” Rooster responded, nodding in solidarity with Mrs Rogers. 

“Then we have a body that turned up in an old naval cemetery. We think it’s something unrelated and that’s just where he ended up so we might turn that over to the FBI.” Jake chucked the files down onto his desk. “And finally I think I found missing Seamen Lang.”

“No fucking way!” Rooster couldn’t help but laugh. Semen lang has been missing for four months. He was meant to be on deployment but on a goodwill shore visit in Indonesia he vanished.

“Yeah, shaking up with his mistress in Mexico of all places.” Jake scoffed. “So he’s being brought back as we speak.”

“Jesus Jake when Spiders away you really do throw yourself into work huh?” Rooster asked almost rhetorically—he already knew the answer.

Annabella Webb, or Annabella Seresin. Jake's beautiful chef of a wife. The most amazing cook according to Jake who lived off ready meals and takeaway while she was on deployment–which was this very second. With her maiden name being Webb— the navy calls all Webb’s by the nickname spider. Get it? Spider Web.

“Anna” Jake emphasised, “Will get nothing but my undivided attention when she gets home.” Jake sighed, rubbing his temples and leaning on his desk. “Bro I miss her so much uugghhh— I can’t believe she’s gone for another four months!”

“You should come around more? I’m sure Y/n wouldn’t mind?” Rooster asked as he watched Jake wipe a soft tear from his eye. Shaking off his emotions.

“I don’t wanna intrude—“

“Jake? Shut the fuck up and get your ass over for a few drinks tonight? I’ll text Y/n when she goes on her break at twelve.”

“You sure?” Jake replied, he was getting pretty lonely on the naval base. Having a home on the confines of the Navy’s barracks.

“I’m positive— look I’m gonna go say morning to Angelo down in the armoury but I’ll be back soon.” Rooster stood up from his desk and tapped Jake on the shoulder on his way past. A teasing smirk plastered on his face.

“I bet your right arms fucking jacked up though?” Rooster laughed as he walked away. Jake swatted at the semi-stable six foot man just a little too late as he walked down the hall.” 

“Fuck off Bradshaw.”

***~***~***~***~***~

The first few hours of your shift were as normal and routine as they could possibly have been. Dealing with clients, setting up loans and repayments, laughing with co-workers, you really did love your job. Dealing with numbers and helping people with their financial problems and situations was a passion, it never really felt like just a nine to five to get by. 

But there was this one guy. This guy you had noticed probably half an hour prior, sitting in the same spot he’d been sitting in the first time you had seen him. With his bag beside him—he looked all kinds of nervous.

You were just about to go on your break, about to fix yours and Rooster ’s phone bill up. You should’ve walked straight out the door. But you didn’t.

“Are you being served, sir?” You asked politely with a smile. The same smile you’d give Rooster when he kissed your cheek. Almost a second nature tick. “If not, would I be happy to assist you? Sorry about the inconvenience if you’ve been waiting an awful while.” 

“No, no one ever listens to me.” He scoffed. It wasn’t a response you were really prepared for.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir? We’re you looking for a consultation or a financial advisor or—“

“I SAID—“ The man got up, startling you as he towered over you—so close you had to back up. The bank stopped as if time stood still. “NO ONE FUCKING LISTENS!!” The man pulled out a gun he’d had concealed from his back pocket as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Pulling you close to him. 

“Owww—s-stop oh my god—“ You were panicking, your eyes instantly welled with fear as he threw you down to the ground. You could hear people screaming and running as the disgruntled man fired three direct shots into the roof. 

“But they’ll FUCKING LISTEN NOW!!”

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake was still at his desk when he was called to the debriefing room, his initial thought was ‘great, another case’ Not understanding that in a few short minutes his life and the life his best friend had known was about to change. Forever.

“Director Gordon.” Jake greeted the masculine man who looked as if he was about to give a debriefing that was as serious as it gets. Jake walked down the stairs cautiously and stood next to Rooster who was already waiting with Angelo.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Jake asked—crossing his arms across his chest in confusion.

“No idea seems serious though, while I was shooting targets I saw the guys pulling up in the vans. Next thing I knew—“

“Okay ladies,” Director Gordon clapped his hands together as he fixed his microphone, making sure his deep baritone voice could be heard from the front all the way to the back of the amphitheatre-style room. “We have a major situation, unfortunately, unfolding as we speak, so to get out as quickly as possible I need your undivided attention.” Director Gordon sighed. Hands on either side on the podium he stood behind.

“Ex-Navy lieutenant Jonathan Walker has, at 12:05 today, started a hostage like situation in the Bank on the corner of Wilson Road and Downmary Avenue.” Rooster wasn’t a pro at geography, but it didn’t take an expert geographer to know where his fiancée worked—he felt as if his heart stopped beating in his chest and threatened to explode all at once.  He forgot how to breathe. Suddenly Rooster heard this high-pitched ringing in his ears as he felt his heart race. Rooster was panicking.

“We can neither confirm or deny at this point in time if his actions are related to his recent dismissal on the basis of physical abuse onboard his last deployment, nor can we say at this moment in time if his actions are directly related to his recent attempt, and rejection, in relation to a job he tried to procure at this very bank. What we can confirm is that the NCIS is actively partaking and in charge of operations to defuse the situation in cooperation with the FBI.” Director Gordon stated. “This is the official media report I’d like you all to memorise in case of media interference.”

Rooster went pale, he stumbled a bit and crashed into Jake's shoulder. His vision had gone blurry with tears that threatened to spill over from his water line. 

“Bradshaw, you good? Why do you look as if you’re about to pass out—?” Jake asked quietly and with concern.

“Y/n—she, she works there.” It clicked instantly for Jake—but he didn’t want to worry his partner. Didn’t want him to spiral. Especially not in a debriefing.

“I’m sure she’s fine? 12:05? She’s on break, right? She’s probably out of the building?” Jakes words soothed Rooster for a second. His heartbeat regulated as calm washed over his body. You had to be fine. Fate wouldn’t do that to him. To his darling fiancée. To them. Not after losing his parents. Whatever god was watching over him wouldn’t do this to him again would he? 

“We’ll have snipers set up in the surrounding building including senior chief Bradshaw, we request your expert skills on the ground this time around instead of giving orders to your team from headquarters.” Director Gordon explained. “We want men surrounding the entire building— Special agent Bradshaw will lead ground unit A in addition to special agent Homes with ground unit B.” Rooster felt as if he wasn’t in his own body. He was looking in on himself from the outside.

When everybody was dismissed and sent on their way to gear up, Rooster was distant. In his own head, hoping, praying his girl wasn’t, hadn’t been in the building at the time Walker decided to have his breakdown.

“Yo Rooster!” Jake cried out, trying to get his wingman’s attention. “Rooster !” He called again.

“Hmm?” Rooster responded when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Director wants you— said it was of importance.” Jake softened his voice, knowing that the reality of the situation was his what felt like a sister in law quite possibly could be on the list of hostages. Rooster nodded softly as he stepped aside—director Gordon approached the van Rooster and Jake found themselves nearest to.

“Bradley” Gordon sighed. “Your fiancées' name please?” It came out more of an order than anything else.

“Y/n sir, Y/n Y/l/n,” Rooster responded softly, but like a soldier, shakingly.

“I thought so—unfortunately son your fiancée's name has shown up on the list of people being held inside the bank no—“

“Jesus,” Jake swore under his breath even though he had a gut feeling deep down.

“No—no, no no no no she can’t be sir, no I—“ Rooster ’s eyes watered when director Gordon placed his hand on his shoulder trying his best to comfort the man who needed to keep his shit together.

“Bradley, I need you to focus on your job, yeah? You gotta get your girl and me taking you off this case isn’t what will help her now is it?” Gordon raised his brows as Rooster looked to the roof and let out a sigh - stopping himself from crying out in utter heartache. “I will relay any and all information that comes through to you alright? I promise.” Rooster nodded. “We’ll get her back, Bradshaw.” Gordon poked Rooster ’s chest. “You’ll get your girl.”

***~***~***~***~***~

You sat curled up in the corner—shivering from fear. Terrified beyond belief as this man you knew for not even a millisecond of time now held the power to save lives and take them away. A modern-day grim reaper.

“You’ll all be lucky if you leave here alive,” He spat as he trudged through the lobby - scared souls spread out in littered groups. Huddling together in fears of being alone in their final moments. You, however? You were alone. Separated from her co-workers.

“You all know NOTHING of betrayal!!“ Walker hissed as he cocked his rifle. “Pain, Hurt, Sorrow. God, I’ll blow this place to FUCKING smithereens before I ever feel rejection again! DO YOU HEAR ME!” Walker shouted caused you to jump, whimpering in the corner as you cried your eyes out.

“Ohhh— do I scare you, sweetheart, do I? Huh?” Walker laughed as he sauntered over to where you had hidden. Dragging you out into the centre of the lobby by your hair. A frightening moment. Flailing – you screamed and cried in so much fear, consuming your entire being.

“Stop! No—no no no p-please let go!”

“I’m gonna hurt you,” Walker chuckled. “Hurt you so bad, make an example out of you that the fucking higher-ups can’t boss us the fuck around and not feel the consequences.”

“Whatever you’re going through you don’t have to do this— you don’t, don’t have to—“. It didn’t hurt at first, the sound ringing in your ear was honestly the thing that got you the most in the first few seconds. Then came the pain. The excruciating, stinging, wet pain that radiated through your shoulder. You could only assume you’d been shot— in shock you were silent. Your hand came up to cover over the wound that leaked dark oozing blood. Your hand was covered in seconds.

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do or I’ll shoot you right between your fucking eyes— WHOS NEXT!? huh? You!” Walker pointed to one of your co-workers. The barrel of his gun in her face.

“Get me a fucking phone.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Rooster trembled as he walked up the stairs in the Westpack building, adjacent to where his beautiful soon to be wife and 15 of your co-workers were being held hostage. At this moment in time, there had been no reports of hostages injured. The first of many unreported events to happen that day. Rooster was at this moment in time - oblivious to the injury you had been subjected to. If he knew? He’d lose it.

Rooster set himself up, his sniper rifle-armed and loaded, directly facing the bank. Laying on his stomach— Rooster adjusted his earpiece, looking through his magnifier with one eye closed. Manoeuvring his rifle slowly to identify possible hostages, trying to find his beloved fiancée, while also looking for his target.

“Foxtrot in position.” Rooster stated. “Loaded and waiting for further instruction— over.”

“Yeah Roos, it's Jake man, cut the lingo for a second, will you?” Jake groaned from the ground. “Reports have just come in that he’s wearing a dead man’s switch.” Rooster’s heart froze—Walker wearing a bomb meant if Rooster took the shot he’d for sure kill every single person in the building.

“It’s gotta be a bluff” Rooster responded strong. “He wouldn’t be?” He was in total and utter denial.

“Rooster, we can’t take that fucking risk bro stand down!” Jake ordered. Although Rooster was chief in his specific unit—Jake had all eyes and ears on the ground. Rooster himself? Was isolated in the building across the street.

“Director Gordon, do you read?” Rooster sighed as he switched channels from his walkie.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, you have eyes on Walker?” Gordon asked as he watched news reports play on the enormous screen before him. It was a tactic the director didn’t use all too often but referring to Rooster as Lieutenant Bradshaw kept him grounded. Taking him back to when life and death decisions were paper thin. When G forces and jet fuel were his life. 

“No sir not yet, however—“

“You are to only observe if the target walks into frame, that man is wearing an explosive device according to his threats and intent.” Rooster wasn’t going to argue then and there on the spot —he’d wait till later. His heart was racing as he searched each available window for any sign of life.

“I need an update Director,” Rooster growled.

“Walker has made demands we can’t possibly fulfil, we have a standoff situation taking place but until we can confirm or deny the presence of an explosive device I ask you to remain in an observatory state marksman Bradshaw .”

Time stood still for Rooster as a soft tear rolled down his cheek, he let out a sigh of pain and despair as Rooster nodded in response. Knowing his silence was a good enough response. 

“Yes sir.” He whimpered as his lip quivered. His beautiful fiancée so desperately needed him and all he could do was watch—not knowing your current state. Rooster wouldn’t even come close to knowing for another five painstaking hours.

***~***~***~***~***~

“Rebecca.” You whispered as you leaned your head on her co-workers shoulder. “Becca you gotta get out of here— see the side door behind us?” You asked as Rebecca slowly and shakingly turned—nodding as she saw it was slightly ajar. “I’m gonna distract him and-“ You couldn’t help but cough a little as pain radiated through your bloodied and mangled shoulder as you did so. “And you’re gonna run, tell the police he doesn’t have a bomb, tell them everything he’s done, okay? You have to.” You knew that the police outside would be trying to confirm if there was a threat of a bomb.

“Y/n, you’re injured—“

“I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.” You slowly pulled a positive pregnancy test from your pocket. You’d taken it in the bathroom before you started work. Zipping it in your skirt pocket to show Rooster later that day. “You have to help me by getting out of here, get as many girls to follow you? Understand?” Rebecca nodded as she softly whimpered. Walker was over on the other side of the lobby making one of the cashiers empty any and all of the tills at the foreign exchange units.

“Go, hurry!” You whisper-shouted as you slowly stood. Rebecca shuffled on her ass across the floor away from you as you whimpered in pain. Walker wasted no time in pointing his gun directly at you as you dropped the test you held in your hand to the ground as you raised her hands above your head. An agonising scream left your throat as your shoulder popped. The sound of your pain was loud enough to cover the sound of Rebecca fleeing through the side door—along with two others.

“I—I need something to stop m-myself f-from bleeding out?” You whimpered as you walked slowly but ultimately closer to the man. You were beyond terrified. Nothing about this made sense, why you? Why these people at this mundane time. Why was any of this happening? 

“Get the FUCK back against the wall before— hey wait a minute where?” Oh no you thought. He’d noticed. “Where the FUCK did the rest of those girls go!! YOU SNEAKY LITTLE BITCH” Walker yelled as he pointed his gun and fired a bullet into your thigh only to turn around and fire two direct rounds into the skull of your co-worker John who was emptying the tills.

“AAAHH—!” You screamed as you dropped to the floor—another one of your co-workers Andrea rushed to your side.

“Oh god oh god oh god oh god,” She repeated in panic as she held you in her lap. She knew it was bad— seeing the positive pregnancy test on the ground before Walker picked it up and chucked it at the nearest wall. Andrea was a good person, she put her own life on the line so you wouldn’t be alone in your final moments if the god she so desperately prayed to took another young life too soon. “I’m here Y/n I’m here.” 

It would inevitably be Homes who started a chain reaction of misplaced information that fateful day. As Rebecca rounded the corner into the street she ran with her hands above her head and tears streaming down her cheeks. It was a bittersweet moment. On one hand, she was safe, on the other her co-workers, including a just revealed to be pregnant you, were still trapped in a life threatening situation.

“Ma’am,” Homes gasped. “Ma’am you’re safe now I’m—“

“He doesn’t hav-have a bomb, do wh-whatever you need to d-do with that information to get my friends the fuck out of there!” Rebecca cried before she fell into the arms of David Homes.

But Homes never passed the message on, a hostage who had just fled the clutches of a captor had given grade A evidence to an agent she trusted—for some reason or another, Homes didn’t find that message to be of importance. Which meant when Rooster locked eyes on his target from across the street when he had him in his sight. A perfect shot. Rooster was denied his shot.

“DIRECTOR!”

“There has been no threat of life Chief Sargent Bradshaw , STAND DOWN!” Director Gordon hissed. “We don’t have confirmation as to whether or not he is wearing—“

“No threat of life? Sir! He has my fiancée held fucking hostage and you’re going to sit behind a screen and tell ME there’s no threat of life!!?”

“Stand down Bradshaw ! That is an ORDER!!” Rooster hovered—his finger grazed the trigger. You could see the little red dot lighting up Walker’s head. It was him. You knew it. It was your Rooster. You noticed the small naval badges on Walker's backpack a few hours prior. You knew Rooster would be near. A painfully peaceful moment. Comforting. 

As time lingered you wounded why Rooster didn’t take his shot. It was perfect. Dead centre in fact—you smiled because he was your marksman. But all of a sudden, the little red dot disappeared. A soft “no” escaped your lips in utter disbelief. 

Did Rooster truly not want your baby that much he was willing to allow some crazed guy to take your life. Maybe you were delusional? The same hormones which made you spew your guts up this morning making you think such horrible thoughts. Maybe you were right though? Maybe Rooster wasn’t coming for you? Maybe he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t say he loved you this morning. Didn’t kiss you goodbye. Maybe that was your sign? That nobody was coming to rescue you.

Maybe you’d die alone? Maybe you’d die at the hands of evil. Maybe your number truly had been up. 

***~***~***~***~***~

Five hours. Five hours Rooster was told to wait for new information. He was losing his mind not knowing. The thought of never seeing the woman he wanted to marry ever again haunted him. His girl. He’d known you since he was your next-door neighbour. At first? Things didn’t work out—you know, the typical new neighbour who doesn’t exactly get off on the right foot situation. Who seemed to not give a shit? But when Rooster actually started trying, you knew he was your end game. Rooster was adamant since the first time he’d laid eyes on you that he wanted you forever. He’d never felt love like this before. He had one shot at love, and you were it.

Being in the unknown petrified Rooster, for all his training was worth he wanted to throw it all out the window if it meant he could have you back safe in his arms— to see you smile, to hear you laugh, to tell you he loved you endlessly and wholeheartedly because he didn’t this morning. He didn’t tell you he loved you and now he may not ever see you again. How cruel was the world? Rooster was no stranger to death—sometimes he himself played the same grim reaper who threatened you as he laid looking through a magnifier for a target he can’t shoot. Contemplating leaving his post, leaving it all behind to save his girl his way.

“Director Gordon? Sir, I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us on the ground?” Rooster heard Jake talk through his ear piece.

“Well Seresin, after five hours of practically twiddling my thumbs and playing yes sir no sir with a very frustrated Marksman I’ve come to the conclusion something just doesn’t seem right.” The Director huffed. “Where’s Homes and his team?”

“Observing the side section of the building—they’re still working on evacuating the west side of the building in case of an explosion.” Jake replied. The director sighed.

“Follow me, son, I fear I’ve made a great flaw in my judgement entrusting special agent Homes with such a responsibility—man can’t even tie a damn tie.” Jake chuckled slightly at Director Gordon as they walked. The old man still had humour riddled through his sixty five year old bones after all. He was old for his job but in tip-top shape. Not a day over 40 he looked.

Rooster laid listening, his skin crawled with anticipation. Jake might have known he was online or not— but Rooster was glad to be a part of something. He felt so isolated up in his nest.

“Homes! What I’m earth is going on?” Director Gordon screeched when he rounded the corner to see those who looked like former hostages sitting with blankets around them.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped. “Why the fuck would you not radio in!”

“We’ve been evacuating the surrounding buildings in case of an explosion! I couldn’t do two things at once?” It was truly a poor excuse. “You try pulling your thumb out of a day Seresin instead of playing desk jockey.” 

“If—if you had listened, I said he—he didn’t have a bomb and If you had wanted to help us you would have listened when I said there are people hurt and dead inside!!” Rebecca hissed—her eyes not trained on anything but the ground. She’d suffer from ongoing PTSD like symptoms for her entire life going onwards. “My friend, Y/n” Rooster’s heart stung at the sound of your name. “She was already bleeding to death when she told me to get out and her efforts to get help have gone unnoticed by your poor knowledge of how to operate a functional team.”

Rooster screamed in pain into his microphone, altering Jake to the fact he was online and on Rooster’s channel.

“Bradshaw knows.” Jake looked at his director as he held his earwig—Jake didn’t ask, he already knew the orders which needed to be given. “Rooster, listen, can you see walker?”

Rooster didn’t answer, his heart hurt, he himself felt as if he was dying. The pain of losing his girl was too much to handle. Jake could hear him crying out for you. It broke his heart to hear. 

“Rooster, do you copy? Do you see Walker?” Jake yelled still holding his earpiece into his ear.

“NO!” Rooster yelled back through a croaky voice. “I had him, Hangman, I could have fucking shot him five hours ago! She’s dead, isn’t she? SHE’S GONE!?”

“Rooster you gotta get yourself together and find him and the second you do? Put as many fucking rounds as possible in this son of a bitch, Do you copy senior chief Bradshaw.” Only Jake, his best friend, his partner, his wingman and brother, could pull Rooster from the edge of despair and remind Rooster who he was. He was the love of your life. “She needs you, no do you fucking copy!?” 

“I c-copy” Rooster cried as he repositioned himself. Moving his gun slowly in hopes of seeing Walker again. “I copy Hangman—“ 

***~***~***~***~***~

“Why do people do the things they do agent Seresin?” Rebecca asked Jake as he helped her over to the nearest awaiting ambulance.

“I think people do the things they do out of fear—Walkers scared of the unknown, but it doesn’t make it right.” Jake replied.

“You know Y/n?” Rebecca asked as Jake gestured for her to sit on the stretcher—a medic immediately attending to her split eyebrow.

“She’s my soon to be sister in law actually.” Jake softly smiled, he’d known you for as long as Rooster himself did. Having helped Rooster move into his new apartment and having a conversation with you in the lobby when he dropped a box of his clothes.

“She was your soon-to-be sister-in-law agent Wilson” Rebecca sighed as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Was.”

As Jake walked back towards the bank he could hear his name being called what sounded like a thousand times over, getting closer and closer with every single second.

“Jake! Hey Jake! Hangman—Seresin!!” Rooster shouted as he ran as fast as he could—sweat dripped from his forehead.

“What the fuck Rooster!? What are you—?”

“I couldn’t stay up there for another fucking second knowing she needs me, give me a fucking gun before I lose my god damn mind!” Rooster pleaded. Jake only just then realised just how red and blotchy Rooster’s face truly was. He was a mess. Had been since the moment he heard the name of the location nearly seven hours ago.

Jake saw Director Gordon as Rooster heard him load his own handgun gun. Handing it to Rooster as he turned around.

“Son if you truly wanna play the game you gotta learn how to be clever.” Gordon sighed as Rooster took the gun. “But if you really wanna get your girl you gotta break the rules—your best bet is this side door, it’s still ajar slightly.”

“Rush him?” Jake asked.

“I gotta get her outta there Jake she needs me.” Rooster cocked the gun he’s recently been given. “be on my left.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“This is the NSIS Walker disengage your weapons, or we will shoot to kill!” Rooster yelled as he prepared himself to raid the bank, full-body armour on – Jake too along with twenty other agents, including the FBI. “Walker!!?” Rooster wasn’t a killer, if he could fire a shot to injure and disarm, he would take it 99.9999% of the time. However, this was personal.

You knew your fiancé’s voice – your heart swooned when you heard Bradley Bradshaw’s voice echo through the lobby. 

“He’s here.” You smiled to yourself. You felt cold. You were so incredibly tired. Andrea held you close—she was covered in your blood. It was pure carnage within the lobby. It looked like a war zone, dark and filled with death.

“Oh, you only listen now huh?” Walker laughed maniacally. “Too FUCKING late!! You!” Walked hissed as he pointed to you, grabbing you by your hair. It felt too normal at this point.

“Leave her alone!” Andrea cried. “Haven’t you done enou—“ Walker didn’t give her a chance to cry. He knew he was done for - taking as many hostages as possible with him along the way. You cried out as walker's arm wrapped around your throat as your feet slipped along the floor, your body was giving out on life from pure and utter exhaustion. Choking as the cold metal of the end of Walker’s gun pressed harshly against your temple.

“Shoot me! Fucking shoot me I dare you, your bastards! I’ll take her FUCKING with me!!” Walker screamed hysterically. Enough was enough for Rooster as he burst the door open as Jake rushes in. Rooster fired straight past him—over Jake's shoulder. 

Roosters had a unique skill set. He never missed. His ability was unparalleled. A clean shot directly between the eyes of the name who hurt his girl so badly. Turns out Walker was never good at counting his rounds.

As Rooster rushed towards you, you couldn’t stand another second, falling to your knees.

“Brad—“ You whispered as he slid on his knees and held you so tight Rooster thought you were going to pop. Crying aloud in nothing but heartbreak seeing his beautiful fiancée in so much pain. So hurt.

“I love you.” It was the first thing that came to mind when Rooster cupped your cheeks. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Rooster moved your hair from your face—the same face usually so full of happiness and love, cold to the touch and smeared with blood. Your lips were tinted a blue like colour. “I love you so much Y/n do you hear me? I love you, okay you gotta stay with me alright? You can do that for me, you won’t honey?” Rooster sobbed as tears ran down your cheek. Your eyes closed as you fell completely limp in your soon to be husband’s arms. 

Rooster came for you. Your marksman. He loved you. 

All your questions were answered as you slipped away— Rooster’s gut-wrenching pleas for you to stay were the last thing you heard.

“Don’t you do this to me baby don’t you fucking leave me here!! No—-!”

***~***~***~***~***~

It was like time stood still for Rooster as he rode in the ambulances alongside his girl. Jake had booked it to the nearest car he could find with sirens blasting as he followed.

You were a fighter, you still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going so easily– you’d miss Rooster too much. You were fighting hard to stay on earth and live your life to the fullest. So was your darling baby.

“Rooster?” Jake whispered, trying not to startle Bradley too much. “She’s gonna be alright.”

“She died in my arms Jake, don’t give me falsified hope.” Rooster was tired, he was drained from all emotion and energy. He’s lost you, his girl, holding your white gold engagement ring between his fingers. The ambulance officer had asked him to remove your jewellery. Caked in blood it looked more like copper than white gold.

To say they rushed you into emergency surgery straight away was an understatement. Rooster had no chance to ask if he could say goodbye.

Unbeknownst to Rooster as he sat waiting covered in blood with Jake in the waiting room, you needed a lot of blood transfusions, you needed the bullets removed, and roughly one hundred and fifty stitches, a combination of internal dissolvable and external stitches. The bullet from your shoulder managed to hit at just the right angle—causing minimal damage. The team of doctors who worked around the clock to save your life popped it back in.

The bullet in your thigh missed your artery by 3mm, it took doctors and nurses about twenty minutes to pull the bullet out due to the fact they didn't want to graze it against your femur. It’s a routine check for pregnancy in women which made it extremely complicated and even more of a high-risk surgery and highly complicated when your heart started to fail.

Practising CPR wasn't an option when it came to saving your life due to your shoulder wound, in between doctors stitching you up and connecting you to life support there were nurses using a defibrillator on you just trying to keep your failing heart into a rhythm again. Soon enough though? After a slight panic thinking they might actually lose you? they got you stable, stitched up—doctors took the calm to ramp up the blood transfusions. Pumping you with much needed red blood cells your body so desperately craved. 

As your heart steadied towards the end of surgery —doctors were able to eliminate the use of life support. A paediatric nurse stepping in to review your file to check the baby's health once you found yourself out of surgery.

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, Jake sat on the ground next to Rooster. On a particularly busy night, both boys got up to let a pregnant woman sit down. Rooster went completely numb seeing her, feeling like he was never going to get that life with his beautiful girl—his darling fiancée.

“Mr Bradshaw? Would you like to follow me please?” A lady cooed,  both Rooster and Jake following her into a private room.

“How’s my fiancée?” Rooster asked softly, drained from waiting.

“There were complications during surgery from the blood loss, they put her on life support to finish up the stitches, a little tricky, but both of them are fightin strong.” she smiled.

Both Rooster and Jake went into shock, staring at her back as she walked out like she'd grown another head before turning to look at each other still just as confused.

“D-did... did she just say both?' Rooster stuttered.

“I think so.” Jake replied in the same confused, dazed and exhausted tone.

“But that means... no I’m sure I heard her wrong.” Rooster mumbled- the nurse returned again to say you were stable and would be out of surgery soon, Rooster was overcome with relief- deep down he knew you wouldn’t leave him in this cruel world alone - too relieved Rooster honestly forget to ask about her 'both' comment until a different nurse walked in - her scrubs were pink with tiny white flowers scattered across the fabric, unlike the plain blue scrubs of everyone else Rooster had seen that night.

“Hi. Bradley Bradshaw is it?' She asked the two of them, Rooster nodding his head frantically in response.

“Uh, Rooster.” The nurse only smiled in response. “Just Roosters fine.”

“I'm sure you've had a very long day, just thought I'd pop in to let you know your fiancée is going to be out of surgery in about ten minutes, and then she'll be in ICU recovery, we expect you'll be able to go in to be with her in about an hour or two after that, after three or four hours she'll be moved into here in the ICU ward, and I’ll be popping in a few times a day for check-ups until she's discharged from the hospital, and then she'll need to come in once or twice a week for probably one or two months, sound good?” The nurse in pink scrubs rambled on about the important update—but all Rooster could think about was her scrubs, and how he'd seen a nurse going to help the pregnant woman from the waiting area wearing the same ones.

“C-can I ask you why your scrubs aren’t blue?' Rooster asked, his heart racing with anticipation. He couldn’t be? Could he? You couldn’t be? Could you?

“Part of being a paediatric nurse, it’s meant to be a little less clinical for the kids, and for parents.” The nurse smiled brightly in response. It was clear she enjoyed her job position as she walked out of the room.

Within a millisecond though? Rooster once again broke down full-on sobbing, joy, sadness, happiness. Pride, excitement, anger, hurt, all the emotions of the rainbow flooding his exhausted and overwhelmed body because his girl, his beautiful darling fiancée who needed him so much was being held together by a thread in surgery, not only fighting for yourself but your baby too.

***~***~***~***~***~

From the moment Rooster was allowed to be by your bedside, he didn’t leave for a second. He couldn’t take his eyes off your stomach, watching it rise and fall with every breath you took. The only other time he looked away was to check your face– watching your eyelids flutter as you slept. You deserved to rest.

Rooster held your hand tight, afraid if he let go it would all be a dream—slipping your cleaned engaged ring back on your finger, being ever so careful not to move your arm as your shoulder was still tender. Stitched and patched.

“You and I are gonna have a series talk about when you should be taking your lunch breaks bub—“ Rooster joked to himself trying to find a little humour in such a morbid and dark situation. “But dammit Y/n I thought I lost you, god I feel like I’ve been to hell and back today but to see you safe I’d do it again, so just please come back to me.” Rooster whispered. He was talking to himself more than anything.

But you twitched softly—your eyes slowly opening as you tried to say a groggy “hi”

“Hi, my beautiful girl, I’m right here, don’t move too much, okay you’ll be in a lot of pain.” Rooster cooed - watching your eyes land on your flowers by your bedside. Rooster promised he’d buy you flowers.

“Am I alive?” You asked softly, confused as to your whereabouts as Rooster cried softly as he squeezed your hand.

“You sure are honey—I got you, I got him, he won’t ever hurt you again— won’t hurt you both ever again.”

“My marksman huh? You never seem to miss.” You couldn’t help but tease as you left out a soft groan. Your shoulder throbbed as you went to rest your hand above Rooster’s, his hand resting gently on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, clearly mama, I never miss my target.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

[ruiniel]

In Aeternum

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Relationship: Alucard x Reader

Count: 2.2k

Rating: M

Tags: Pining, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Dark Romanticism/style, Castlevania References, Reincarnation, Post-Castlevania 2017-2021, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, AFAB Reader, F!Reader, Herbalist Reader, Magic, References to Speakers, Creatures, Shapeshifting, Second Person POV

AN: Bringing back a story written on the old blog for an ask (I believe it was from @mightyarsh? Let me know if not!). Oneshot for now, TBC if there's interest for more.

Edit: here's Part II

Summary:

Alucard centered story, where his s/o in ~1476 is a herbalist who eventually dies of old age. Fast forward to the 1790s, Alucard stumbles into you: a herbalist and magician, with the same appearance of the one he knew long ago.

“There you are,” you whisper gleefully to yourself, bending down. Your gloved hand reaches to pick the buoyant cluster of white and yellow feverfew at your feet.

The forest sings with life, and sun rays brush bright, dappled fingers over the forest ground. Your satchel is almost full, and you’re pleased to see you’ve crossed most needed supplies off your list for the day. Dusk will soon be upon you, and while you’re more than capable of protecting yourself against any manner of disturbances, the wisest approach would be to head back sooner than later. Carefully, you wrap your quarry in a rough strip of paper and tuck it inside your bag with other scented packages. You rub at your nose with fingers smelling of yarrow, valerian and meadowsweet, considering being done for the day. Looking at your compass, you aim to follow North, towards the town where you run your trade and livelihood.

You take a few steps, thoughts on the newest concoction recipes you’ve been provided by a member of your guild.

At first, you don’t mind the eerie shift in the air. A smell, a reek rises and engulfs you, and though you sense no movement, the tendrils of impending threat weave around your ankles. You stop short.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heartbeat quickens. You know this instinctual warning, you’ve felt it before.

You’re being watched.

Eyes narrowing, you wait, then take a step forward. A stir deep in the tall, dark undergrowth has you lifting your left hand, your stance gone rigid, fingertips sizzling with a rush of hot, elemental energy.

You falter as the creature reveals itself, emerging from of the shadows descended over the wood like moving shrouds; you can’t deny the beast’s unreal beauty as your gaze skims over the white, shining hide, to the golden eyes catching the last drops of sunlight spearing through the trees, watching you with an interest bordering on human.

No, you realize, swallowing hard; its eyes are human, but for all your knowledge in the arcane arts, you can’t for the life of you place its kind. You’re all too familiar with the unmistakable scent of foreign magic, and now it crackles around the dire wolf like rising thunder.

A thought, a forgotten piece of knowledge crosses your mind. Shapeshifter.

If it weren’t for your less than favorable situation, you’d be hopelessly entranced by the rare apparition.

The creature remains still, observing you with curiosity while you place your right foot behind you and drop your satchel. Your fingers form the conjuration symbol of fire.

“I don’t know what you are or why you’re here, but I warn you, one wrong move and I will not hesitate to burn you to a crisp!”

Your voice shakes beneath your bravado, but you don’t get to finish your shaking threat. Before you can muster even a wisp of a firebolt the wolf bounds in a great leap, and in primeval fright you trip over your own legs, falling to the floor amid wilted leaves and dirt. Your unremarkable life flashes before your eyes and only late you notice you’re still breathing, still in your body; still breathing, not dead.

You swivel around, rising to your knees.

Your eyes widen; you balk at the ghastly sight and scramble backwards on your arms and legs, watching the wolf ripping out the throat of another apparition reminiscent of rotting corpses. Guts splatter the trunks of trees, skin tears and bones splinter. The pestilence of ancient necromancy fills your nostrils; your head is spinning, and through your daze and the vicious, threat-induced pounding in your head, you barely see two booted feet instead of a four-legged stance. Closer they come, as your panting breath hitches in your throat.

You lift your gaze, heart struggling between your ribs. Ahead, a widening pool of murky green blood drools beneath the carcass of his kill.

“You should... watch yourself better out here,” come the soft words, and as your shocked eyes move over him, you see broad shoulders, a well-knit frame garbed in black, and looking into his face, you’re struck by a deep, wrenching familiarity.

His unblemished features possess that same stillness, but also honesty and reluctant kindness; and something else. Indefinable, like grasping at a half-forgotten dream at the strike of dawn.

You can’t speak, and mutely stare as he kneels before you. The first impulse is to back away, but through the remnants of your panic you squint at him, and recognition flares. “You!”

You’ve seen him before. You remember now. You… you know him. He’s been a recent, frequent customer in your apothecary shop, coming by regularly to purchase herbs and powders used for an array of purposes. He never skimped on payment, even for the most expensive of wares.

Those otherworldly traits you remember: in truth, how could you forget. His presence is always the hallmark of the familiar, though in what way, you cannot say.

“You…” you repeat dumbly, staring at his proffered gloved hand.

You hesitate before reaching, allowing long fingers to wrap around yours as he helps you to your feet. The grip sends a rush up your spine and warmth down your body, and you marvel at how fast you turned from paralyzing fright to cursed reactions of a completely different kind.

“I never knew you were a shapeshifter, Mr. Țepeș,” you croak, deeply embarrassed by the uncanny rebellion within. You release his hand, perhaps slower than would be deemed appropriate.

“And you never mentioned you were a magician.” He smiles as you dust off the leaves and dirt from your clothes. “But then, these are not things commonly shared among acquaintances in this day and age, are they?”

Despite the near brush with a gruesome death and his unexpected, though fortuitous, presence, you still find a shred of mirth within you. A wry smile curls your lips. “No, I suppose it is not. Though we’ve come a long way from deeming magic devil’s work, and burning witches at the stake.”

His brows furrow at that, and something twitches in his jaw. You wonder if your words had somehow upset him, though in what way, you haven’t the slightest idea.

What was he doing here?

Whatever shadow crossed his expression is gone, however, and he shakes his head. “Indeed, we have. Still, I think you agree caution is key. And please, just ‘Adrian’,” he follows, as gallant as you remember him, as if there’s not a dead abomination he’d disemboweled lying only a short distance away.

“Very well, Adrian,” you find your voice. The word is easy on your tongue, like a fresh, blooming flower. Here you are, alone and at his mercy, for you have no inkling of his true power, but your fear sluices away with his closeness. You wish you knew the reason why. “I won’t tell anyone, if you won’t,” you add, astonished at the sudden shift in mood.

“You’re a long way from home,” he ignores your light remark, watching you strangely, a near wistful gleam in burnished eyes.

“Yes, well, I was out gathering supplies, and I’ve encountered no trouble thus far, but,” you pause, an eyebrow raised as suspicion rears its head. “...you were following me?”

He looks away. “I was hunting it,” he gestures behind him. “Stray creatures of the nether still lurk in the whereabouts of my home, and I’ve encountered too many bodies around abandoned pathways and ditches to allow the prowling to continue.”

You’ve heard of this. You know of at least two families who had recently lost someone; people disappearing without a trace, none ever returned.

Misery for their plight fills you, but now your curiosity has peaked at his words, and there brims a need to know more. “You mention your home… you live close by, then?” Throughout your sparse dealings, he always kept things professional, and despite having met countless times before, you obviously know close to nothing about him.

Adrian hesitates beneath your searching stare, biting his lip. “For now.”

You’re left to wonder at the meaning of his words, your gaze straying behind him. “Oh, how horrid of me! You saved my life. Thank you,” you bow your head, your gratitude genuine.

Adrian looks up to the skies. He smiles. “Darkness falls,” he says. “My deed will prove useless if you end at the hands of brigands or whatever other things haunt this part of the wood.” Unsettling amber eyes are on you again, and something warm and sweet settles in your belly. Now, of all times.

“I…” you choke, “I better get moving then,” you avert your gaze, bending down to retrieve your abandoned satchel.

“I could escort you to the edge of the forest, if you wish.”

The words take you by surprise. Your eyes cut to his again, and in the half-light, their gold is deeper, brighter. Wolf-like, but without the trace of a threat.

“... two wards are better than one, that sort of thing,” he smiles thinly, almost shyly, his gaze intent on your face.

“... that would…” do you want him to? After all, he is little more than a stranger to you, but then again, you are not exactly powerless either, were he to try anything. The thought shames you for some unknown reason, and deep inside, there comes the truth: shapeshifting powers aside, you want him close, you want to know him beyond the placid stares and the memory of those fleeting, close-lipped smiles; beyond the all too brief encounters. Something rooted deep pushes past all sensible misgivings.

You shoulder your satchel, meeting his stare. You sense no danger coming from him, none. Instead, a pang of sadness coils around you, leaving you breathless in your confused stupor.

Your heart beats so fast it might break your sternum, but in his shuttered expression you find nothing. A cool wind shivers through the branches, lifting his pale hair, sending strands astray as he silently awaits your decision.

You nod slowly with a sigh. “... that would be very kind of you.”

You walk in comfortable silence, exchanging questions of mundane import here and there, then falling to silence again. If there’s still a waver to your step, or a hitch to your breath since you nearly lost your life today, your travel companion makes no mention of it.

You tread through dust and leaf until you reach the forest’s edge, and before you lies a vale, and a town tucked within it. You glance over to see your new acquaintance walking in a smooth, determined glide, looking left and right.

When your eyes meet, the question forms immediately, more so since you’ll use any excuse to explain the staring. What has actually happened to you? More annoyed at yourself than expected, you ask, “I haven’t seen you around here often. Before, that is,” you nibble on your lip as his gaze flicks away from you in the fallen twilight.

“I could say the same about you,” he muses, “I’ve always lived close by, actually. But I’ve been… absent these past few years, let’s say.”

Odd. And yet. “Oh, I see. I had settled here after leaving my caravan and parents to find my luck in the world. They knew I needed to channel the talents they’d noticed growing and affecting my life more and more with each passing day. For all the dangers I’ve met, great or small, I’d found some use for my skill in herbalism, found odd jobs until I scraped enough which, along with the help my parents offered when I left, allowed me to rent a place of my own.” You look swiftly his way. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry,” but the look in his eyes cuts through your cresting apology.

“No,” Adrian shakes his head, “It is no bother,” he says, an odd quality to his voice. “No bother at all.” 

It’s a long walk to your cottage at the edge of town, through the same muddy, unpaved road you’ve trod day after day, month after month, year after year. You’ve been alone for so long it’s become a way of life, and you mull over that thought, making your way to the worn, crumbled building of your little shop.

Pausing before the door, you turn around to face your unlooked-for savior. “Well, then.” You smile, catching the peculiar stares of one or two neighbors. Irritation flares—of course, none would even think of minding their own business.

“Well, then.” 

The niggling prickle of something in your mind remains, but you know better than to linger with a stranger in the evening outside your home. The town is not so large as to be impervious to wagging tongues, and that is nothing you want to be a part of.

“Thank you, again,” you offer, not knowing what else to say, for he is so still again, staring through you as though seeking something. 

“Until next time,” is all he says.

“... Under better circumstances. I hope,” you try a jest, turning to unlock the wooden door to your cottage.

“So do I.”

The wind has become stronger. You turn around, wanting to add something that disperses from your mind as you find yourself alone, the night and a rising moon your only witnesses.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#alucard x reader #alucard castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard castlevania x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #castlevania x you #alucard x you #x reader #ruiniel:fanfiction #adrian tepes x you

[jasmines-library]

Needle and thread.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 19. Prompt: “no anaesthesia.” Fandom: Batfamily

Summary: Dick is forced to carry out a life-saving emergency surgery when you are too far away to reach help before it becomes too late.

Warnings: Impalement, blood, gore, stitching, needles.

Word count: 1k (short but sour, I had to do this quickly sorry.)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Dick Grayson would never forget your blood curdling scream the moment the rebar punctured your stomach, ripping up skin and muscle as it forced its way through your back.

You had been flung sideways by the villain you had been fighting. The force of his throw has caused you to topple over the side of the scaffolding and sent you plummeting to the ground. Unluckily for you, you happened to land on the scrap metal.

He cried out, cursing as he fought to get to you. It was only supposed to be a simple patrol, but he was outnumbered. Dick fought hard, landing kick after kick and blow after blow with his sticks to reach you. When he landed heavily on his feet beside you, he could already see the puddle of blood below you. It gushed freely from your body. Raw and red and beautiful.

Your mouth was agape, panting against the pain. Your eyebrows upturned behind your mask as your face contorted in agony.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He was stuck still staring at the blood stained steel. Your muscles clenched around it as you writhed.

“Y/n.” He dropped to his knees beside you when reality hit him like a ton of bricks. “Fuck.”

“Dick…”

His hands hovered over your body; he was too afraid to touch you as if touching you was going to break your fragile body more. He was wide eyed, mind running at a thousand miles a minute. He knew he needed to move you, but the rusty metal bar was the only thing preventing you from bleeding out completely. He had hit the emergency signal on his suit, and he knew help was on the way, but he had no way to gauge how long it would be before they arrived.

“Okay…” he breathed out unsteadily. His hands trembled as they moved around your body, coaxed in your blood. “I have to move you.”

Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and gritted your teeth. Dick wrapped his hands around yours to haul you off of the bar. You howled, muscles twitching as it was ripped through you again. Your vision blurred as he lay you back down on the ground, applying pressure hard to the wound.

“Come on, Y/n. Just stay with me a little longer. Help is coming.”

“Dick…” you forced out through wet coughs. “You have to do it.”

He shook his head frantically. He hated doing it. It was something that was only supposed to be a last resort. “No. No, I can't do that to you.”

He turned his head, desperate to spot the red and green suits heading his direction, but all he could see for miles were the lights of the city.

“Robin, where are you?” He asked into the coms.

There was a crackle before he replied. “I‘m going as fast as I can, but I’m about 10 minutes out.”

He cursed. You were too far out for him to reach the bat cave and Damian was still too far away. 10 minutes and you would have lost too much blood.

“Do it.” Yo pleased. “Dick. Please.”

He took a deep breath and turned his head away, before pulling out the needle and thread that was kept in the small Medkit you carried in your suit for emergencies. Dick struggled to thread the needle with the way his fingers shook. But after finally sterilising and threading the small tool, he positioned it above the wound. It was still bleeding heavily.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered as he made the first stitch.

You bucked forwards, contorting at the stabbing against your skin. He tried to be quick, but that did nothing to stop you feeling every stitch as the thread tugged against your skin to close the rift. You had almost blacked out by the time he had rolled you over to stitch up the entry wound. Every second was nothing but torment that seemed to replace the blood you lost.

By the time he had pulled the last stitch closed, you were a whimpering mess. Your face was stained with tears and your hair was a mess. Your whole body felt like one giant bruise; everything ached and your joints felt like a hinge that needed to be oiled.

Dick had tried his hardest to keep you awake, whispering sweet apologies into your hair as he rocked you back and forth in his arms, though you weren’t 100% sure who he was trying to make feel better; you or himself.

Your body had slowly begun to go numb after a while as you waited anstily for Damian to arrive. A chill had begun to set into your bones. By the time he had finally arrived, the pain and your senses had dulled into almost nothing at all.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 18 ⛤ DAY 20 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

#whumptober #whumptober2023 #whumptober 23 #no.19 #no anesthesia #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson x sister reader #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson x injured reader #batfam x injured reader #batfam x hurt reader #blood #gore #impalement #stitches #surgery #fanficion #Batfamily x injured reader #Batfamily x hurt reader

[cheollipop]

double shot espresso

navi | taglist

pairing: choi seungcheol x gn!reader

w.c.: 1.4k

tags: fluff, so fluffy you might suffocate (sorry)

Dragging him out of the warm confines of your shared bed and into the chill air of dawn, Seungcheol wordlessly holds you while you marvel at the start of a new day.

A/N: this was originally a fic for another fandom, but sleepy scoups has me wrapped so tightly around his pinky finger that I just had to write a version for him as well. this man.... anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─

You pried your eyes off the bright screen at the first coo outside the open window to your right, only for the early rays of the morning to greet you from behind the cotton-candy clouds, a pinkish-purplish hue to them as the sun began to rise.

You let the controller fall onto the couch beside you, leaving your Sims to talk amongst themselves, rising to your feet – your toes had started to go numb as you sat in the same position for the past hour. Taking a few steps forward, you reached out to hold onto the windowsill, taking in the sky in all its different hues, birds scarcely flying across the wide expanse of it.

You thought you would regret staying up all night with your eyes glued to the large screen, wishing you had gone to sleep when your boyfriend did; but with this view spread out before you, you’re beginning to think otherwise. Usually, he would stay up with you, playing his own games beside you. However, on this particular Friday night – morning – he knocked out early after a rather rough day at work.

You made your way to the balcony door, but your fingers paused at the handle. Abruptly turning around, your soles padded softly against the hardwood floor as you made your way through the short hallway of your apartment. You twisted the knob to the master bedroom, peeking your head inside, an easy smile curving the corners of your lips. Despite being a well-kept man, Seungcheol slept as if he had a personal vendetta with the sheets – limbs all tangled up with the blanket, his pillows beaten and thrown all around the bed and floor. Aside from the one under his head, and the other between his legs – or under them, as he laid on his stomach. His shirt had ridden up in his sleep to reveal a slither of his toned torso, one of his pant legs halfway up his calf. Amidst the chaos he had brought about the bed and its surroundings, his face looked the exact opposite – at peace. Soft puffs of air left his nose, the faintest of snores that he will swear up and down, left and right, are nothing but a hallucination. Because Choi Seungcheol does not snore.

You found yourself leaning on the doorframe, the ticking from clock on the wall acting as background noise as you took in the steady rise and fall of his back. Then you snapped out of it, standing up straight and clearing your throat, realizing that if he were to wake up right now – as unlikely that would be – and encounter the dreamy eyes being directed at him, he would never let you live it down, teasing you until you were redder than tomatoes themselves. That, and the fact that if you were to stare for any longer, you would miss the bewitching scenery just outside your window. You wondered if it was cruel to wake him up when he looked so at ease, but realized that it would be even crueller enjoying the sunrise without him by your side.

You gradually made your way to the bed, sitting down by his waist and resting a palm on his shoulder blade. “Cheol,” you whispered, shaking him once, twice, and he was up, bolting upright and sucking in a deep breath of air, as if he had been deprived of it in his sleep. You flinch even though you had expected it. The man may sleep tranquilly, but never wakes in that manner.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, nearly panting, bleary eyes looking you up and down. His voice was hoarse with sleep, brushing off the remnants of his dream. You wondered if he had been dreaming of you.

You smiled fondly, reaching out to squeeze his hand, the gentle touch calming his racing heart. “Let’s watch the sunrise together.”

Choi Seungcheol – all wide shoulders and big arms – rubbing his eye as you led him by the hand through your apartment, dark locks tousled and pointing in different directions, pant leg still halfway up his calf. It was almost adorable – a man of his stature, following you like a lost puppy.

There were many things Seungcheol loved in life, most of which being you. Why else would he allow you to interrupt his beloved slumber, dragging him out into the crisp air while even some birds remain dormant?

He waited for you by the balcony door as you collected a few cushions from the couch where you had spent your night. Seungcheol felt more awake after he had rubbed his eye dry, with enough awareness to go through the linen closet, tucking a few blankets under his arms. He walked outside where you had laid the pillows down, taking the blankets from him with a grin splitting your face. Cute, he thought. You were the most beautiful when you were excited, even at the break of dawn. You built a makeshift fort on the tiled floor, his hands warm as they brushed against yours. His body more so as you finally settled against it, your back flush against his chest while you stared ahead. He sighed into the crook of your neck.

The sky was more orange than pink now, the glowing arc of the sun parting from the horizon. The stars that once scattered the breadth of the sky now swallowed up by the golden flares. The chill of the night still stuck around, not yet ready to part from the earth for the day, and a shiver ran through your body. Seungcheol unravelled himself from you momentarily, reaching behind him for a spare blanket before wrapping it around his shoulders, bringing it around to close around your frame. His arms held you tighter, wave of heat rushing through your skin. His head rested on one of your shoulders, warm breath blowing against your skin as his chest rose and fell against your back.

“This is nice,” you spoke, voice soft as if not to cut through the quiet. Your smile was just as soft, an easy twist to the corner of your lips, eyes unwavering as you watched the sky change colours – from a bright magenta, to a fiery orange, and gradually to a radiant yellow.

Seungcheol hummed, the gravelly sound raising goosebumps along your skin. He planted a tender kiss to the crook of your neck, your skin cool against the warmth of his lips. He places a few more – on your nape, your clothed shoulder, your cheek. Anywhere he could reach without disturbing the comfortable position you were sat in, legs tangled and fingers interlocked under the fleecy blanket. His head found its way back to your shoulder, relaxing against the cotton of your shirt.

“It’s so pretty,” you added, eyes wandering, moving from one side of the sky to the other, taking in the view as though this was your last chance to do so.

Seungcheol hummed again, dimples dipping into his cheek as a soft smile graced his lips. “It truly is.”

You continued to stare ahead, but Seungcheol’s eyes lingered on you. He would never tell you, but for the entirety of the hour you had spent on that balcony, Seungcheol didn’t look at the sky once.

After the sun found its rightful place between the clouds, and the sky lost its yellow hue, making way for soft blue, Seungcheol forced you into bed. Although you felt wide awake, you found yourself dozing off rather quickly, engulfed within the warmth of Seungcheol’s arms. And yet, you rose before he did. The blackbirds and robins had long since ceased their melodies, the shining star smiling at you from the centre of the sky as you stared out the kitchen window. Your hands worked while your thoughts remained elsewhere, perhaps musing about the man resting just a few doors down the hallway. Plucking out his favourite mug from the cupboard, you placed it in its allotted space in the machine, watching the creamy stream of coffee pool into the ceramic. The fresh aroma of the espresso danced through the kitchen – a scent you associated entirely with Seungcheol.

He should be up soon, you thought. Considering you saw him every day, you figured the giddiness you felt whenever you thought about him would fade away. And yet, here you were, smiling at the fresh cup of coffee you had brewed, hoping he would wake soon, ready to spend your day enveloped within his warm embrace.

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#scoups #seventeen #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #scoups x reader #scoups x you #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt scenarios #svt fluff #kpop #kpop fluff #scoups fanfic #scoups oneshot #scoups seventeen #scoups scenarios #scoups x y/n #scoups x gn reader #fluff #choi seungcheol fluff #this man has me GRRRRRRDHDHSJD HNNNNNGGG

[neteyamsoare]

Nawri.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Tsu'tey x Fem! Omatikaya! Warrior! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. SO I'VE BEEN FOLLOWING UR WRITING FOR SOME TIME AND I'M OBSESSED WITH UR TSU'TEY STUFF 💗💗💗💗 So I have a lil scenario where Tsu'tey and you and few young hunters are sitting around a fire and singing songs and it's all so magical and shit. Then you hit the chorus and your voice just rings out above the rest and Tsu'tey can't help but be like 'oh wow' and he's full on blushing AWWWWWW 😭😭😭😭 And he compliments you and it's all fluff and wholesome and shit 😭😭😭 — 🌺

༉‧₊˚. Summary. Tsu’tey notices your beautiful voice and can’t help but fall more in love with you.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Fluff.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Ninat has some competition and shyness.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 584.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Nawri — [Talented], and Oel ngati kameie — [I see you (greeting)].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. When I saw this come in my inbox, I was excited to hear that you enjoyed my Tsu’tey works, I also was excited because I saw you claimed an emoji!! This request was so cute and couldn’t help but to start on it, hope you like it. | Also I got the hunting song from the avatar fandom page.

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

“Terìran ayoe ayngane. Zera'u. Rerol ayoe ayngane,” you and the young warriors sang around the fire. There was a big hunting trip tomorrow and the song was very important to be sung before or during a hunt, as it represented the strength of both the hunter and the hunted, praying for the worthiness of a hunter, and speaking to the spirits of the forest.

You sang low so people wouldn’t hear your voice as you were not used to people noticing you since you stayed in the back of the group during training, always keeping your head down to not cause any attention to yourself. 

Tsu’tey did notice you though, how could he not, your beauty was breathtaking, you are one of his best warriors, and you were strong and quick. He sat across from you watching your every move but because you had your eyes closed you didn’t notice.

He wished he was next to you to hear your voice, he knew it would sound so sweet that he would want to hear it for the rest of his life. “Ha ftxey, Awpot set ftxey ayngal a l(u) ayngakip,” he sung along, looking down at the fire.

It’s like Eywa, herself, was listening in on his wish, begging to play matchmaker on the two as the song reached its chorus.

“Awpot a Na'viru yomtìyìng. Awpot a Na'viru yomtìyìng.” Your voice rose louder and soft over the other hunters causing Tsu'tey's ears to flick up, tail swishing side to side in excitement, his eyes widened as he stared at you not even singing anymore just admiring your lovely voice.

‘Oh wow, just when I think she couldn’t get any better, she surprises me.’ he thought to himself as a small blush appears on his face.

When the song ends, you finally opened your eyes making eye contact with him which makes Tsu’tey look away as he cleared his throat, “Alright, let’s wrap it up,” he stands and looks to where you were standing but you were already making your way towards your home. He quickly says his goodbyes as he goes to catch up with you. 

“[Name]!” you come to a stop and turn around to see Tsu’tey running towards you. When he’s finally in front of you, you look up at him and send a small smile at him. “Oel ngati kameie,” you spoke, raising your hand to your forehead before motioning outwards, “Oel ngati kameie,” he spoke as he looks down at you repeating the same motion.  

“Is something wrong?” you ask softly avoiding his gaze but Tsu’tey quickly shook his head, “Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to tell you that you have a beautiful voice,” a small smile spreads across his face as a blush appears on your face. ‘He heard me?’ you thought to yourself.

“You’re so nawri and I was kinda hoping if you’d love to go out with me sometime?” he asks as he brings his finger and thumb to your chin gripping it softly as he turns your gaze to meet his and he sees the blush you have been trying to hide and smirks a bit. 

“Sure, I’d love to,” you smile up at him. “Let me walk you home,” he says as you take notice of the blush he wore on his face and giggle a bit, nodding your head slightly as you go to his side and the two of you talked all the way home, smiles never leaving either of your faces.

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© neteyamsoare 2023. | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#ಣ : sylaphone #tsu'tey x fem!reader #tsu'tey x omatikaya!reader #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x you #tsu'tey drabble #tsu'tey fluff #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar #tsutey x fem reader #tsutey x reader #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan x reader #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey x na'vi!reader #tsu'tey fanfiction

[klbwriting]

Finally Home - Jason Todd Blurbs

You Have a Bad Day, Jason Makes it Better

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: you have the worst work day and when Jason hears about it he knows just how to make it better

Notes: I'm still obsessed with how sweet these are, please if you have any ideas and want to see them written let me know! One person has asked for a Batfamily thing so I'll maybe write that one next!

               Why the universe had decided to make this the worst day of your life you didn’t know.  First was the bus ride into Old Gotham on your way to work.�� A random bump and you spilled coffee down the front of the brand-new leather jacket your boyfriend had bought you.  It was hot, it rolled to your pants, and you knew you were going to feel icky all day because of it.  You arrived at work, quickly going to a bathroom to clean up the staining as much as you could, but ran out of paper towels before you could do a decent job and were left letting it dry naturally, probably making these pants permanently damaged.  Then right before you were supposed to leave for lunch your laptop gave you the blue screen of death and you called IT only to be told to come down and wait in their office and they would assist you.  That was a two hour wait and you missed lunch.  The only seeming bright point to that horrendous wait was the texts you were exchanging with Jason. 

What’s wrong sweetthing?

Everything! Got coffee on the jacket you just got me, on my pants, then I couldn’t get them cleaned up so I’ll probably have to toss them, and now I’m just waiting for them to give me a new laptop and they told me not to go anywhere and I’m starving

That is so shitty, don’t worry when you get home I’ll make it all better, love ya babe

Love you too Jaybird

               The ride home wasn’t much better, you were seated next to someone who decided they wanted to shower in their perfume, and you were having trouble breathing.  You got off the bus and in between the block between your bus stop and your apartment you stepped in something you hoped was just dog crap.  You couldn’t wait to get home and see Jason, but when you entered your shared apartment he wasn’t there.  You sighed.  Perfect, bet Bruce or Dick called needing help with something.  You understood, the protection of innocents and all, but today you were just so worn down from the day you wanted your boyfriend to be there, wrap his arms around you, and tell you everything was alright now.  You were home.  You headed to the laundry room, stripping down and putting your work clothes in the wash, scrubbing your shoes in the sink, and throwing them in the dryer before going to your bathroom to take the longest, hottest shower possible. 

               By the time you got out of the shower you were feeling a little better, dressing in comfy sweats and one of Jason’s shirts, inhaling the scent of him and letting that bring you some more comfort.  You heard something in the living room, not sure if Jason was home you did what he said.  ‘If you don’t know who’s in our place you grab one of my guns and then you find out’ he told you.  You grabbed the small gun that was under the bathroom sink and headed into the living room, held ready but finger off the trigger just like Jason taught you. 

               “Hey sweetness, its just me, but nice form,” Jason said, unloading food from a grocery bag on the kitchen table.  You let out a sigh of relief, setting the gun down on the nearby end table and going over to him.  He accepted your hug with a big one of his own, his arms finally making you feel safe and completely at home.  “Go settle on the couch, I already got your show ready to stream, I’m making your favorite for dinner and I even got us some cake for dessert, everything you like to turn this shitty day around right?”

               “You are truly a god among men Jason Todd,” you said, kissing him softly.  He chuckled and patted your rear as you turned to go to the living room.

               “Tell all my other partners that,” he teased, making you stick your tongue out at him as you got comfy and turned on your show.  You half watched, you had seen these episodes dozens of times, mostly watching Jason as he danced around the kitchen, you could hear his phone playing music he liked, volume low so not to disturb you.  You smiled as he worked, every once in awhile he would catch your eye and wink at you, maybe blow a kiss.  You know, for being a lethal killer at night he was an absolute sweetheart at home.  You settled back to watching your show, the smells of his fantastic cooking taking up the room.

               “Hey dinner’s ready, want to eat in there?” he asked.  “Or do you want to rant about your day at the table?”  You thought about it and since right now he had made you forget about all the bad shit that day you patted the couch.

               “I’ve already forgotten, did I have a bad day?” you asked.  He plated up dinner and brought it over, setting in on the coffee table and giving you another kiss.  “You’re here now, in my eyes that makes my day perfect.”

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jasontoddblurbs

[chihoshisai]

Tenderness and Warmth

Fandom : Black Clover / Pairing : You x Julius / Genre : (imo its mild but it depends on the person) smut and fluff, lighthearted / Other : if you prefer reading it on ao3 it's also there

Summary : After a long day of mutual pinning, You and Julius can finally secretly let it loose once night has fallen and most of his duties are over. Each night brings about a new compliment on his part followed by another shower of physical affection.

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“Your hair is so long!”

Julius sat by your side. One of his favorite things to do after a long day of work and some intimate lovemaking was to compliment you. Each night, he managed to shine light upon a different feature of yourself, which made the feelings you felt for him bloom even more. He never ran out of ideas and most importantly never pointed out the same perfection twice in one night. During the day, he would compliment your overall beauty or say that your current attire suited you well, but at night – as you laid bare before him – he would never resort to such superficial claims. 

“They are soft and fair. You must take good care of them,” he said, stroking the waist long hairs. 

“Don’t even get me started on my haircare routine,” you said with a smile.

“Do share!” Julius said eagerly. The secret was good genes and in fact you didn’t do anything special but use shampoo and conditioner. Afraid of disappointing Julius, you put a finger to your lips, indicating they were sealed and he gave you a pout. 

“They are too beautiful for you to let them be everyday.” Julius began. 

You stared down at the slightly disheveled hairs who shielded your nipples from being shown. You never bothered to style them let alone worry about how they looked. 

“Braids would enhance their beauty!” he finished, before taking a part and making a poor attempt at putting together a braid. You scoffed at his struggle and gently put your hands on his to part them. You took back the part of your hair which Julius was holding and showed him the motions.

“I see! So that’s how it’s done! How fascinating!” he beamed. Whenever he shocastes his – childish – enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but be reminded of a golden retriever wagging its tail. Julius Novachrone, the Wizard King with a hobby of sneaking off of work to discover new magic was now showing eagerness at the idea of learning how to do a braid, all while wearing nothing but his underwear. Who would have thought? You handed him the braid you started and his excitement and contagious smile spread to you. He treated the hair with so much unfamiliarity, the braid wound up loose and undid itself.     

“Oh,” he frowned.

“Do it again,” you encouraged him.

He did it once more and this time, tied it with a ribbon he fetched, seemingly satisfied with himself. A waist length braid now descended from the right side of your neck and down to the bedsheets. 

“I knew it!” Braids do enhance the overall look of your hair.” he said. 

You stroked it, as ideas of hairstyles raced through your mind. You made a mental note to call upon your maid in order to help you out the next morning. The thought of Julius’ reaction made you bite your lips who threatened to let escape a snort. 

“Do you not like it?”

You snapped back to reality and shook your head fervently. “No that’s not it. I love it.” Julius’ heart sunken face made you cup his cheeks, “I’m honored you made it for me. It’s not everyday someone gets to have their hair braided by the Wizard King.” You gave him a sneer, and he scoffed, amused by your words. “Do you believe me now?”

“Under normal circumstances yes, but I am not here as the Wizard King,” he added with a playful look in his eyes. 

“Do you not believe me Julius?” you stroked his cheeks. “I love it, I love everything you do for me, to me. I love you.” You saw his face flush, as you gave his lips a light peck. 

“I believe you now,” he wrapped his hands around your waist, “and I too, love you very much.” 

He returned the peck tenfold. Pressing his lips against yours with fervent motions, only parting to allow you both some air, before leaning back in again. It was already past midnight, and you knew there was no stopping him until he was sure that you were satisfied. The usual round two involved some lighter, delicate intimacy after the longing and mutual pining from a long day of work unfolded as soon as you both reached the bedroom. You slid a hand from his cheek to grab his neck, and the other down to his chest. With great motions, you guided the kiss until you moved to your desired position. As you sat on his lap, allowing one hand to run rampant on his upper body – grazing, scratching, clutching and sinking your nails into his well-built muscles – feeling his hard finger grip the fat of the back of your lower body. To his brief dismay, you parted from the kiss to instead direct your lips to the surface of his neck, both of your hands now resting upon his chest. Julius buried his face on the top of your head, and the sensation of his raspy breath sent a turmoil of butterflies in your stomach. 

“I don’t recall telling you how good they smell,” he said in a whispering voice. You smiled in his neck and grazed your nose upon it’s outline. 

“No, but I do appreciate the compliment. You couldn’t have picked a better moment to mention it,” you teased. 

He brought his hands to your face, lifting it up and pushing back your hair with his fingertips, your cheeks now in his palms. He stared down at you with a forced serious expression that hinted at amusement. “Are you saying I should have kept quiet about it?” he said. 

You gave him a patronizing mock of a smile, “you tell me. As a citizen of the Clover Kingdom, I would never dare tell Julius Novachrono what he can and can’t do.”

“You’re such a tease!” he exclaimed. He gave you a loud peck on the forehead, which caused you to chuckle, before he went and closed the distance between his lips and yours. 

He moved you down to your back, effortlessly removing his underwear while he was at it. His lips found your collarbone, showering it with kisses, as your hands ruffled his blond hair and ran through his back. A groan of pleasure escaped you – his fingers had found your vulva and were manipulating it with dexterity and experience. The familiar sensation sent quivers up your abdomen, as your cunt responded in pleasure, wetting his finger with warm liquids. 

“Julius,” you whimpered. Each moan brought about an increase  of movements on his part – one finger playing with your clitoris in clockwise motions whilst the remaining fingers went in and out of yourself, occasionally caressing it’s outer region.

“Say my name once more,” he said. You did as you were told, moaning in between each syllable, as you knew he liked. Clasping your legs around his body, you grabbed his head and directed it towards yourself.

“Kisses,” you demanded. A rain of pecks descended upon your face’s feature before your lips – the final stop – were rewarded. He slumped on you – making sure his full body weight didn’t hinder you – and took your hands, intertwining his fingers in yours. His body heat mingled with yours, whilst you faintly moved yours rhythmically under his. Julius let go of your left hand for a moment, before reuniting both hands back. You felt the inside of your already loosened cunt welcome him back inside for the second time of the night. Your thighs and stomach ebbed with thrill upon the familiar yet still enjoyable thrusting movements of Julius, as he matched his rhythm to yours. You could feel your eyes – tightly shut – roll to the back of your head, as his hips moved his cock slowly inside you. Julius’ lips parted with yours and found your left ears. He breasted deeply in and out from both nose and mouth, surrendering himself to your moans.,  before he bit the edge of your ear and nimbled it. This was it. You felt your body reach its climax as you gripped his hands tighter. He gave you a peck on the temple before sliding his cock out, and descending down on you to swallow the now done exploding orgasm. He didn’t waste this opportunity to lick your clitoris and let his tongue add pleasure to your sweet spots – cursing you to grip his hair tight and your toe to curl on the bed sheets. He stopped only when he heard your moans to raspy breathings. He smiled, as you released him, parting your arms to allow him to nestle in them. 

“You devil,” you teased. “Eating me out right after I come. You should do it more often.”

He chuckled, “I am no devil, but I can certainly do the latter again tomorrow.” He positioned himself on his elbows to look at you, “But didn’t you say earlier that you are in no place to tell me what I can and can’t do?” He stared at you, with his lips curled in a smile and his eyes sneering.

“Julius! Do not bring sex conversations outside of sex.”

“Oh but we are very much still in bed and not done,” he said, and gave you another round of kisses, combined with laughing. You had to beg him to stop otherwise neither of you would get some sleep and god forbids the Wizard King of ever being tired. 

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed as usual – no traces of Julius being there last night were left, as being in a public relationship would prove to be a weakness for him. You called upon your maid and tasked her with braiding your hair, prior to going on about your day, already anticipating the tension and discreet kisses from the interactions you would get with Julius, as Marx’s personal aid.  

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A/N : this was an attempt at writting smut. it may not be perfect as i'm still learning but constructive criticism and opinions are most welcome :)

#hoshi fic #imagine #black clover #julius novachrono #black clover julius #black clover smut #black clover fluff #black clover fanfic #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono x you #x reader #smut #fluff #pillow princess #wizard king #fanfiction