#<- i either did amazing or terribly. no in between

[eleventeenratsinaflannelsuit]

telling the psychiatrist who gets me my adhd medication that i dont have abnormal anxiety except now im pulling another anxiety-driven all nighter because every time i close my eyes i feel slightly like im going to die from thoughts

the moral of this story is dual enrollment sucks

[serpentandlily]

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet. 

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

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Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life. 

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least. 

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city. 

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned. 

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip. 

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient. 

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters. 

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself. 

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you. 

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.  

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention. 

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library. 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.” 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach. 

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight. 

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong. 

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you. 

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” 

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.” 

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.” 

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.” 

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way. 

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!” 

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.” 

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. 

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.” 

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth. 

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.” 

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed. 

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity. 

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.” 

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory. 

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.” 

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were. 

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.” 

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly. 

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!” 

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment. 

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.” 

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled. 

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this? 

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk. 

Your head sprung up. 

“What…what did you just say?” 

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.” 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied. 

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.” 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more. 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.” 

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!” 

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away. 

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.” 

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you. 

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears. 

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning. 

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.” 

“You what,” Azriel growled. 

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!” 

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.” 

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.” 

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

────────────

You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

[kujousgf]

WEST COAST. mdni. 18+.

pairings: older!natasha romanoff + f!maximoff!reader

summary: in which natasha agrees to help with a bake sale and you both stumble into admitting your feelings

warnings: legal age gap (natasha is 43 and reader is 22), pining lesbians, top!natasha, bottom!reader, finger sucking, light dom/sub dynamics, fingering, brief daddy kink

wc: 5.7k

a/n: thank you very much for this request, it gave me brain worms, also this is not proof read so :]

“Come on, Tash, please? Mom said you’d go with me because she’ll be busy with B and T’s school fair.” You practically beg the older woman, holding your cell phone carefully between your cheek and shoulder as you finish mixing up the ingredients for the cupcakes you were baking; it wouldn’t be the first time you dropped it in some cake batter if you weren’t careful. Half of them were for Billy and Tommy’s school fair and the other half were for the bake sale you were helping out with at your university. You had taken it upon yourself to do the baking this year because you knew your mother, Wanda, would be busy with work and getting your younger brothers ready for the fair. They were always very hyper and excitable, it took a lot to round them up. You didn’t really mind though, you did have some extra free time and you always got restless when you truly had nothing to do.

Natasha chuckles on the other end of the phone, “Your mom can say anything she wants, sweetheart. That doesn’t make it true, that just makes her Wanda.” She can practically hear you rolling your eyes as you groan at her response. She’s typing lazily with one hand as the other holds her cellphone, not paying nearly as much attention to her work as she should, especially with the deadlines coming up for this quarter. She can’t help it, though, you rarely call her like this, and when you do she wants to give you as much attention as she possibly can. “Besides, I thought this was something you could handle on your own. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? A little bake sale shouldn’t scare you.”

“Ugh, I’m not scared, you jerk. I just think it would be a little easier if I had someone to help me! And, I want to check out everything else too. I heard the haunted house this year is gonna be amazing! Peter’s working on it with MJ, I just have to go,” you put the phone down on the counter and put it on speaker, not wanting to risk dropping it while you pour the batter into the cupcake tray; that wouldn’t be the first time either. “It won’t be as much fun if I’m by myself, and Kate will be busy trying to make people want to join the archery club. Please? It’ll be so fun, I’ll even give you a cupcake for free.” You try to bargain with her, knowing that she’s always been a fan of your baking since she’s so terrible at it herself.

The bake sale was a part of your university’s fall celebration. Every October, they held a bake sale, a club fair, a haunted house, games and some other things in the week leading up to Halloween. This was your fourth one, and usually, you’d force your friend Kate to help you, but this year she’d agreed to help out with the archery club before you could ask. Not that you minded, because when you brought it up, your mother had absentmindedly suggested that maybe Natasha could help you since she couldn’t, and you would never say no to spending time with the redhead. You don’t know when exactly your schoolgirl crush on your mother’s friend turned into the very real thing it was now. You wouldn’t even say it was a crush because at this point you were certain you were damn near in love with the older woman, but you knew it was something you could never have. So, even as you and Natasha grew closer as you grew older, becoming something akin to friends now that you’ve reached your early twenties, all you could do was cherish the time you got together. 

You can hear Natasha sigh before she responds, “Fine, but you better make it two or I’m leaving before you get to that haunted house.” You’re about to thank her profusely before she speaks again, effectively cutting you off before you even started, “Now, listen, I’d love to stay on the phone with you, but if I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow, I’ve got some work to finish. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 

You both bid each other goodbye and once you hang up the phone, you smile giddily. Natasha was going to take the day off tomorrow for you. Natasha, who was always busy with work, was going to take the day off so she could help you with your silly fall bake sale. “Oh my God… Oh my God!” You feel like a teenage girl with a crush again, getting so excited over something so simple, but you just can’t help it because you know if anyone else had asked, Natasha would have said no. You check the time to make sure none of your family members would be home soon before you call Kate. You just have to tell her about this. You have to get out all your nervous excitement and giddiness before you see Natasha tomorrow, you’ve always been afraid she could see right through you and your feelings. You didn’t need to be more obvious than usual tomorrow. 

And, yeah, you do make two cupcakes specially for Natasha with red icing because you know it’s her favorite color even though the rest of the icing is orange and black. 

-

Tomorrow comes quicker than both you and Natasha would like. You, because you still don’t know what to wear, and honestly, you’re a little worried Kate might come by and say something stupid. She’s always telling you to just put it out there and let Natasha know how you feel, but you can name at least a thousand reasons why that is the worst idea she’s ever had. Not including when she broke the church’s bell tower by accident when she was a freshman. First and foremost being that Natasha is your mother’s best friend, Natasha is twice your age, and ruining the little platonic relationship that you have with Natasha would hurt you more than when Karolina Dean moved away in the seventh grade when the two of you had what you would now call some sort of situationship. 

And Natasha, because she doesn’t really know why she agreed to do this at all. She really does have work she needs to get done and there’s truly no reason she couldn’t have told you to ask one of your university friends to help you, she knows Kate isn’t your only friend, far from it. Well, the first part of that is a lie– she does know why. She knows exactly why she agreed to help you, she agreed because you asked. What she doesn’t know is what she’s going to do around you today with no one as buffer. No Wanda, no Billy, no Tommy, not even her sister Yelena, it’s just you and her. Sure, there would be other students on campus and coming up to the bake sale table, but in her mind, it’s still just you and her. She doesn’t like when it’s just you and her, because when it is everything feels too real. Suddenly, when it’s just the two of you, there’s no reason for her to hold back. And she knows she needs to hold back, she has to because there’s no world in which you would ever be allowed to be hers. 

You’re holding up different sweaters in the mirror, trying to figure out which looks better with the particular shade of denim you’re wearing, when you hear a knock on your door and your mother walks in. “What’s up?” You turn your head to look at her before turning back to the mirror, still trying to decide. “The one with the brown in it,” she hums, walking over to sit on your bed. She’d always been able to tell just what you were thinking even if you didn’t ask. “You’re overthinking this sweater a lot. Are you sure it’s just Natasha that’s going to be with you today?” You weren’t prepared for her question and your eyes widen just the slightest and you hope she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, just Natasha. Kate’s doing her archery thing, and I think America is helping MJ and Peter with the haunted house.”

“Okay… Well, if there was someone, you know it’s okay for you to tell me, right?”

“Mom!” You groan, she seriously cannot be doing this right now. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake… but you do appreciate how much she cares for you, you just can’t tell her. Ever.

“Alright, alright! I just wanted you to know. The boys and I are going to be leaving in a few minutes. You should come say goodbye to them, I think they’re going to stay at your father’s tonight...”

You make a noise of agreement, nodding. You know there was a ‘but’ that she wanted to say, but you both knew what it was without her saying it out loud. They were supposed to stay with Vision last weekend too, but that never happened. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

Wanda squeezes your shoulder as she walks past you, and you wait until she’s shut the door before you let your head fall back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t help but think she’s known for a while, and you feel slightly nauseous at the fact. If she knows, maybe Natasha does too, and that just can’t happen. 

Natasha arrives a few minutes after Wanda and the boys leave, opting to pull into the driveway when she sees the lack of her friend’s minivan in it. She told you she’d pick you up because it made no sense to take two cars and she had to pass your house to get to the university anyway. She takes two seconds before she turns the car off and gets out. She’s too old to be acting like an insecure teenager, she can do this. She’s dressed for the occasion, wanting to fit into the fall theme, wearing a nice knit sweater and a casual pair of pants. 

Her heart squeezes when you open the door and you’re wearing your own knit sweater, she forgot how cute you looked during the fall. “Tasha! I’ll just be a few minutes, I have to get everything packed up and put my shoes on, but then we can go. Come in!” You’re out of her sight as quick as you stepped into it, wanting to get everything done as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to make her wait. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand out here the whole time.” Natasha steps inside, wiping any dirt off of the bottom of her boots on the doormat. She’d take them off, but there’s no point if you’ll just be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. Sue her. “Where are those cupcakes I was promised?”

“They’re on the counter, the red ones.” You call out from the kitchen, you weren’t expecting her so early or maybe you’d lost track of time after you said your goodbyes to everyone earlier. It’s a comfortable silence as you move around the room, packing everything up while Natasha eats her cupcakes, offering to help you every few minutes, but you just wave her off. She wouldn’t usually let you do that, but she was enjoying the food, so she’d settle for not letting you bring anything out to the car, she’d do that herself. 

“Okay, done!” You say, proud of how quickly you’d gotten everything done, and turn to look at Natasha only to find her already looking at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you avert your gaze quickly. “I can see that. You put your shoes on and I’ll bring everything out to the car.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you open your mouth to object anyway, only to be interrupted before you can speak, “It’ll be faster this way, won’t it? Go put your shoes on, cupcake.”

The name leaves you grumbling as you huff and walk out of the kitchen, knowing she’s right. Natasha only chuckles before she starts bringing everything out to her car, making sure that nothing is going to accidentally get squished or have their containers tipped over. Once everything is settled, she grabs the latte from the cupholder in the front seat and meets you at your front door as you’re locking it, “This is for you because I know you spent way too long in the kitchen last night.” 

“Non-dairy?”

“Of course.”

“Then thank you.” You take the cup from her, your breath hitching when your fingers brush and bring it up to your lips to take a drink. “Oh my God, this is good.”

“I figured you’d like it. Now, come on, weren’t you the one who said we needed to get there early?”

-

The car ride passes comfortably, with the occasional small talk, but mostly the radio playing quietly in the background while you sip on your latte and Natasha taps against the steering wheel in time with the song. You find that you don’t need to talk to enjoy your time with her, just being with her is enough. Feeling her presence around you is enough for you to feel relaxed and get that warm feeling that only Natasha can give you. When you arrive and Natasha finds somewhere to park, you take a quick scan of the quad. Thankfully, she was able to find close parking, which is a miracle, really. Your eyes light up when you spot Professor Potts standing near an empty table which you can now only assume is for the bake sale. 

“I’ll be right back, I just have to go talk to Professor Potts for a second.” You point behind you with your thumb and then turn to leave. You only take two steps before you’re turning your head to look at Natasha again, “But, actually, since I know you won’t let me help, you can start bringing everything over to the table. I’ll be right next to it.”

Natasha laughs a little under her breath at how quickly you went from ‘you’re not carrying everything yourself, Tasha’ in the car to ‘actually, you do everything’ now that you were actually here. “Yes, Ma’am.” She teases, and you roll your eyes at her before starting to walk over. 

It doesn’t actually take long for Natasha to bring everything over to the table, and by the time she’s done, you’re wrapping up your conversation with Professor Potts– Pepper, as you usually call her. You were just double checking the details of the bake sale and what the prices were supposed to be before you properly set everything up, but you didn’t think Natasha would be particularly interested in that conversation, so you figured she’d be happy enough to bring everything over while you talked. “Oh! Pepper, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Pepper. She’s one of the professors who helps run the student societies!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha. I didn’t realize Y/N was bringing her partner today.” Pepper smiles and holds her hand out for Natasha to shake. 

“Oh, she’s n–”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. It was a bit of a last minute thing, something about Kate and archery, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Natasha shakes Pepper’s hand, mirroring the other woman’s smile. 

“Speaking of Kate and archery, I’m sure you two can manage this just fine on your own, because I have to go find her and make sure that her ‘advertising’ of the archery club doesn’t include any actual arrows this time.” Pepper sighs, and Natasha just laughs like she knows exactly what it’s like to deal with Kate’s antics, before Pepper walks off.

You stare at Natasha wordlessly for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe she’s going to say something about the fact that she just implied the two of you are together, but instead she just raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you going to tell me how you want this table set up or am I just supposed to guess?”

“Oh– no, yeah, I’ll help.” Your cheeks heat up as you start telling her where you want everything placed and start to write the prices on the little chalkboard easel Pepper had put on the table. You quickly forget all about the incident as you start setting things up and your friends stop by the table to talk before going to tend to their own responsibilities. You don’t really pick up on the way they all point out Natasha’s presence, meaning to tease you, but you just tell them happily that she’d agreed to help because Kate couldn’t. 

The rest of the bake sale goes on like this until you run out of things to sell, some people making comments about how good of a pair you and Natasha made or saying something about how they didn’t realize you’d have someone with you here today. You seemed to ignore it, not saying anything about it or giving any indication that it made you uncomfortable, but Natasha was quick to pick up on what the implications were. It didn’t help, she realized, that the color palettes the two of you chose to wear complimented each other so well that it looked a little like your outfits were matching. 

The way in which you acted as if these comments were normal and that you might have expected them or even welcomed them makes Natasha’s brain go haywire. She can’t help but think of all the things this could possibly mean, but the final thought her brain lands on is that she can’t help but wonder if it would be wrong of her to bask in this for just a little bit. She had already not corrected Pepper when she implied you were together– though, that was more so because she didn’t want to embarrass either of you. So would it be so wrong for her to lean into that? To let everyone think you were a couple? To treat you like you were her’s for just a little bit? She doesn’t think so. 

You’re in almost a daze as the rest of the day goes by. Natasha takes you to the haunted house like you wanted and holds your hand the whole time so you don’t get too scared. If you had known Yelena was helping inside the house, you might not have wanted to go so bad. She’s still holding your hand when you exit the haunted house, and she continues to hold it when you talk to Peter and MJ when you spot them outside. She lets go when she gets a phone call and gives you an apologetic smile and excuses herself, but not before giving your hand a little squeeze, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. All of this feels too natural, being with Natasha like this. Holding her hand, laughing with her, walking with her. It’s now when you realize just how close you and Natasha have been all day and you stumble in the middle of your sentence while talking to MJ. 

“You okay there?”

“Yeah!” It comes out too loud and too quickly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know. Long day and late night last night baking.” 

“Mm… Nothing to do with your woman over there?” MJ points not so subtly over at where Natasha is currently talking on the phone.

Your eyes go wide, “She’s not– she’s not my woman, MJ!”

“You’ve been holding hands this whole time and she’s… here instead of at work,” she gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you at all, “seems like your woman to me.”

“Yeah! Mr. Stark only ever takes time away from work if Ms. Potts asks him to and you know how they are, Y/N.” Peter chimes in.

You feel your face go red hot and you groan, “can we please stop talking about this right now?”

“Stop talking about what?” You jump when Natasha suddenly appears beside you and wraps her arm around your waist. 

“Oh, we were just talking about how scared Y/N got in the haunted house.” MJ lies smoothly before giving you a look. 

“Yes, but now we’re done talking about that and we should get back to our table to clean up properly.” You change the subject, trying not to focus on Natasha’s arm wrapped around you, but it’s lighting your body on fire and it’s very hard to focus on anything else. She squeezes your side softly and nods, “sure. It was nice talking to you, MJ, Peter. Good job on the haunted house.”

You barely let Peter get out a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” before you’re slipping out of Natasha’s hold to grab her hand and practically dragging her away from them. She heard the conversation starting from you stuttering over the implication that you’re together, but for you, she can pretend she didn’t hear a thing. So, instead of bringing it up, she gives your hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay that you were scared, you know? You don’t need to be embarrassed, Yelena can be pretty terrifying when you actually get a look at her.”

“Tasha!” You scold, swatting at her shoulder, “don’t be mean to your sister,” but you can’t help but giggle just a little bit. She only chuckles, and despite the way you’re both struggling to decide whether to bring your feelings up or not, you settle into the comfortable existence you share with each other. 

Before you know it, you’re in Natasha’s car again and on your way to her house. She said she just had a couple of things to do in her home office before she would take you home again, but she would try to be as quick as possible. Technically speaking, your mother should be done with Billy and Tommy’s school fair and you could just ask her to come pick you up, but you don’t tell Natasha that. You would much rather get to spend some extra time with the older woman (and you love the way her house smells) than go home and inevitably spiral as you think about the day and everything that’s happened with her before calling Kate and spilling everything. 

When you get there, she tells you to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to before she disappears into her office at the end of the hall. You settle down on her couch and scroll through your phone for a few minutes before you start to get bored. You consider the fact that Natasha is working on her day off and think that maybe she’d appreciate a coffee, especially if she didn’t have to make it herself, so you stand up and wander into the kitchen. It’s nice and modern, but it has a few personal touches that make it distinctly Natasha. You notice that the coffee maker is right on top of the counter and you look in the cupboard for a mug before you get started on making her coffee. 

You’re pretty sure that the only thing Natasha likes in her coffee is a little bit of sugar, so you take a little look around the pantry until you find some, and when the coffee is ready, you pour it into the mug before adding a little sugar. You hum to yourself and make sure you haven’t spilled anything on the counter, picking up the mug and then starting the path to Natasha’s office. This all feels so natural, that the usual nervousness of doing something like this for the older woman doesn’t even creep in until you actually see her. 

You knock on the door, waiting a second before opening it with your free hand. “Tasha?” You push the door open and Natasha looks up from the paperwork on her desk to greet you with a smile. “You get bored out there, sweetheart?” She puts her glasses up on the top of her head and turns to look at you properly. 

“I. um, made you coffee. I figured you might want some since you weren’t expecting to have to work today.” You walk towards her desk and when you’re close enough, she takes the mug from you and leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips as a sign of her gratitude, “thank you, sweetheart.”

Your brain short circuits.

She almost drops the mug onto the floor. 

You just look at her, frozen, for a few seconds as you watch the wheels turning in her head. She puts the mug down on the desk carefully as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say now. She hadn’t even really thought about it before it happened, it just felt so natural and like something she’s supposed to and allowed to do. But in reality, kissing you has never been any of those things. She’s never done that before even that one time you got so drunk, you practically begged her to. She’s been very careful with her actions and with restraining herself, but now? What does she do now?

“Natasha...” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper and for some reason, you’re a little afraid that she’ll tell you to leave. That she had just been caught in the moment and she would never knowingly kiss you under any other circumstance. 

Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but then she gets a proper look at you standing nervously in front of her and she mutters a ‘fuck it’ under her breath. “Come here, baby.” She pushes her desk chair out slightly and guides you into her lap without any kind of resistance from you. You fidget in her lap, not used to this kind of proximity with the older woman. “I’m gonna kiss you again, alright?”

With those words, it’s like a switch flips and you surge forward to crash your lips against hers. She lets out a little surprised noise before she kisses you back properly, moving her lips against yours and resting her hands on your hips. She lets you lead for a bit until you get a bit too bold for her liking and she grips your hips harder as a warning. She was in charge, not you, and she was going to make that very clear. 

Almost immediately she’s dominating the kiss, and you tangle your fingers in her hair. Her glasses fall off somewhere behind her, but neither of you really care enough to check where. You only pull away because you need to breathe, and when you do, your chest is heaving and you’re a little dazed. Natasha coos and reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your soft skin. “Do you need a little break, sweetheart, hm? You look a bit flustered.” She teases before swiping her thumb across your bottom lip, and you grumble slightly, “I’m not–” 

Natasha pushes her thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue before you can finish, “ah, ah, don’t talk back to me, Y/N,” she scolds, and you whine quietly. You want to bite down on her thumb in retaliation for the use of your actual name, but you know that will only make things worse for you. Not that things are particularly bad right now, you’d probably take anything Natasha gave you, but you’d prefer her cooing over you and doting on you at the moment. 

Instead, you suck softly on her thumb and you know it’s the right decision when she hums in approval. It was almost too easy for the two of you to fall into this rhythm, like you were meant for each other. You both knew exactly what the other wanted and you’d do anything to please her while she’d do anything to keep you happy. Her other hand squeezes softly at your hip before it begins playing with the waistband of your jeans. “We’ve had a long day, huh? You did so well at the bake sale, you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod, looking at her pleadingly and whining softly. Your clothes feel too warm and you want her to touch you, and she’s wearing too many clothes, and you want to touch her, but her thumb is in your mouth and you can’t just push her away. So, you opt for looking like a kicked puppy until she understands what you want. 

“What is it, hm?” Natasha pulls her thumb out of your mouth and you chase after it slightly until you realize that maybe she wants you to actually tell her and you open your mouth to speak. Your breath catches in your throat, though, when her other hand trails down and cups your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to touch you, is that it?”

“Tasha, please.” You whimper. You can barely feel anything through your jeans and it’s already driving you crazy. You just hope she’s not the type to tease. 

“Alright, alright, arms up.” Natasha chuckles and waits for you to follow her instruction before slipping your sweater off over your head. Her eyes darken as she takes in your bra clad chest and she greedily gropes at your breasts for a moment. “So pretty,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss softly at your neck.

You moan softly and you clutch at her sweater. Natasha’s hands on you feel better than you ever could have imagined, and you’ve spent more time than you care to admit imagining this. She’s not too rough, but she’s not too soft either. She touches you with the perfect amount of force and it makes your head spin. 

Her hands trail down your chest and then your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before her fingertips dance across the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so cute today in your little fall outfit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself?” Natasha pulls back, her skilled fingers now moving to unbutton your jeans. “You make things so hard for me, sweetheart. It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”

“I just like to look nice for you, Tasha. Is that wrong?”

“Up.” She taps your thigh, and you stand so that she can tug your jeans down for you to step out of. Normally, you’d be a lot more shy about undressing like this for the first time, but right now you just can’t seem to care. 

Natasha pulls you back down into her lap and then pulls you in for a kiss. Her hands find purchase on your hips and her tongue finds its way into your mouth, easily gaining dominance over you. You moan into her mouth as your fingers tangle in her hair again, trying to pull her impossibly closer. 

And then finally, after what seems like forever, she slips one hand inside your panties. The gasp you let out when her middle finger ghosts over your slit is like music to her ears, and she pulls away from the kiss so she can see your reactions properly. 

“No teasing, Tasha, please.” You whine, your hands dropping to her shoulders. “Shh, I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” She slowly begins rubbing circles against your clit and you’re all whimpers and whines as she does. 

She takes her time, using her other hand to tug the cups of your bra under your breasts so she can play with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between her fingers all while keeping the same steady pace in slow circles around your clit. She basks in the noises she’s able to pull from you even with the lightest of touches. She considers taking you to her bedroom so she can fuck you properly, but she think she wants ot save that for another day. This will have to do for now. 

“Inside, please, Tasha.” You whimper pathetically, hands bunched up in her sweater as you try to be good like she wants you to. She takes pity on you when she pushes two fingers into your drooling hole. She curses under her breath, “God, you’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me, huh?”

You nod, desperately wanting her to move her fingers. “All for you, Tasha.” You attempt to bounce up and down on her fingers, but her free hand moves down and holds you still. “Please, I can’t– mph!” You interrupt your own begging when Natasha begins thrusting her fingers in and out, the angle forcing the heel of her palm to press against your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, embarrassed about how loud you’re being already. 

“That’s it, baby.” Natasha breathes, taking in the sight in front of her with eager eyes, “You take my fingers so well, sweetheart.” She praises, curling her fingers inside of you. You reward her with a particularly high pitched moan and you just barely notice the pink tint of her cheeks. It seems she's enjoying this just as much as you are. Something about having you like this drives Natasha wild. Being able to hear your moans and see the expression on your face makes her almost lightheaded with desire. 

“Oh God, Natasha.” You moan loudly when she grinds the heel of her palm against your clit and presses against the sensitive spot inside you at the same time. Natasha coos, and it doesn’t take long with her fucking you like that for you to get close to the edge. “Tash– I’m gonna– Please–” You beg, pleading for something you’re not even sure of. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Natasha’s words tip you over the edge with the help of her skilled fingers and she guides you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out before pulling out her fingers and bringing them up to her mouth. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m done with you just yet. I might have to take you to bed instead of taking you to dinner.”

[luveline]

hi, jade!!! hope you’re okay. can i please request hotch or spencer (whoever you prefer) and bau!reader sharing a hotel room and cuddling for warmth ??? i’m currently freezing in bed and that’s all i’m thinking about lol.

thank youu <333

thank you angel!!

Seattle can get pretty cold. Last minute trips to Seattle when you've packed for Texas are freezing. 

“Can I borrow a hoodie?” you ask, fingers numb enough to forgo being embarrassed. “Do you have one?” 

Hotch turns from where he'd been plugging the draughty window with hotel towels to nod toward his bag. “In there.” 

You slink off of the bed to the floor where his duffel bag is zipped closed. Hotch's voice is dark and deep with fatigue. He's going to be ill in the morning —it's a gift of yours, knowing when people are under the weather before they do. You have great intuition. It's why you know that Hotch won't have a hoodie for you to wear before you've really looked. 

“Did you leave it on the jet?” you ask. 

His lips twitch downward. “Maybe.” 

Well, it's too cold for maybes. You abandon his duffel bag on the floor and crawl back onto the bed. After a moment of deliberation, you kick back the sheets and cuddle into the pillows to shield your cold nose. 

“It shouldn't be long before it warms up in here,” Hotch says. Your amazing intuition tells you he's going to sit in the bed next to you and cover you up with his arm about five seconds before he actually does. “Will you complain the whole time?” he murmurs, lips just shy of kissing you, poised above your cheek. 

“Maybe.” He rubs the curve of your hip. Knees up and bunched into a ball, you press your face completely into the pillow. Hotch follows as much as he's able to, his breath warming your ear. “Haven't decided yet,” you mumble. 

“Well, keep me in the loop.” 

Intuition strikes a third time. “You're in a terrible mood.” 

His hand rides down your back. 

“And don't kiss me. You're sick.” 

“A stinging rejection,” he says, nosing at the skin by your ear. “But I'm not trying to kiss you. I'm trying to warm you up.” 

You snake an arm out from the blankets and tuck it under his arm. “At least we're going home tomorrow.” 

“Because Virginia's so much warmer.” 

His sarcasm is good, but his doting is better. You forget the cold in the wake of his arm over your back, holding you, pressing the heat of his skin into the sheets between you. Fraternising never felt so good. 

“Is this helping at all?” he asks. 

You kiss his chin softly. You'll be sick tomorrow too either way, you figure. May as well reward him some. “It really is.” 

He lays down beside you, pulling you close. A minute later he's burrowing under the sheets with you, muttering about sub zero temperatures and dwindling FBI budgets. You slip your hands under his shirt, thinking, hey, this isn't so bad. 

[whxtedreams]

Cookies as Payment

A Poets Love

Inspired by rupi kaur poem:

i'd be lying if i said  you make me speechless the truth is you make my tongue so weak it forgets  what language to speak in  - by rupi kaur (milk and honey - page 61)

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader

Tags: no outbreak, fluff, baking, kissing, first kiss (with Joel), just wanna rip my heart out kind of fluff.

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

You didn’t expect it. Truth be told, you’re positive he didn’t plan it either. There’s so much you didn’t expect to happen between you and your neighbour, and knowing how soft his lips are was definitely not on your bingo card.   

The house smells divine, a tantalising blend of vanilla and chocolate filling the air, the sweet scent mixing with the smooth jazz playing from the record player. The atmosphere is cosy and welcoming, blending all the perfect ingredients for an afternoon with Joel as he works outside on another one of your projects.

He walks through the kitchen door, his nose leading him to you while you pull the slightly browned cookies from the oven. Your back is to him as you place the tray on the counter to continue cooking as they cool.

“They smell amazing.” Joel hums as he reaches over you for one. 

“They’re not ready yet, they’re still cooking as they cool.” You swat his hand away with the oven mitt, scolding him for almost touching them.

“But they smell too good.” 

You softly shove him as his hand reaches for the cookies again. You turn to face him then, arms crossed over your chest as you lean against the counter. His wired headphones dangle over his shoulders, blending into his plain white tee, his jacket discarded in the early afternoon from the Texas heat.

“I could smell ‘em from all the way outside, got me droolin’ out there.” He huffs a soft laugh as he brings his hands up in false defence, moving back from the cookies. “I’ve been tellin’ ya to start sellin’ them, make a fortune.” He points at you then before pushing himself to sit on the unused side of the counter. 

You open your mouth to say something but shrug instead, your hands focusing on the small fabric strands at your sleeves. He’s mentioned this a few times, every time he tries something you cook he ends up showering you with compliments. It’s sweet, how much he likes your baking and cooking and you have considered selling what you make but the idea terrifies you. Having someone pay for what you make, you’d rather just gift them to friends and family.

The first time you cooked for him, he almost begged you to help him cook for Sarah’s birthday the following week. You didn’t believe him when he told you he was a terrible cook. He ended up cooking for you that night to prove you wrong and after he made you spaghetti, you thought it would be better if he just stuck to prepping while you did the rest of the work for Sarah’s birthday dinner. You didn’t think someone could mess up spaghetti that badly, you were proven very wrong.

It’s been a few months since you moved in next door to Joel and it took him no longer than a week to start offering help in renovating. Took two weeks before he started coming over without the excuse of helping out and just wanting to hang out. 

It’s been nice, the constant company that doesn’t feel like you’re suffocating your own social battery. It’s the easy, effortless conversations that instead fill your social battery instead of draining it like others tend to do. There have been nights where nothing is said for hours, each just bathing in each other's company as you each do your own little hobbies, not demanding attention. 

There’s been times where you’re so stuck in your book you forget Joel is sitting across the room, tools in his hands as he carves away at another design. It’s not until he walks over to show you that you get the fright of your life, forgetting that you’re not alone.  

You fall into another easy conversation as Joel impatiently waits for the cookies to be ready. He updates you on the bench he’s building for your patio, and you get lost in how passionate he becomes when he talks about his job. His hands start moving the more he talks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he explains how he overcame something when it wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to. 

You could listen to him for hours. You have listened to him for hours. 

You offered to pay him of course, but he said a batch of cookies was more than enough payment.

You make him coffee as he talks, already knowing how he likes it due to the amount of times he’s ended up over at your house in the mornings while his daughter Sarah had a house full of teenage girls over. He’d stumble over half awake and plant his face on the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew, his hair a mess and clothes crumbled. Hard to sleep when they stay up all night fuckin’ laughin and playing games. As much as he complains about it, you know he loves that his daughter ended up with a nice group of friends, even if they keep him up all night. 

You pour his coffee and he takes it as he mentions he’s almost finished outside. He’s rambling now and you’re half listening as you place a few cookies on a plate. His eyes light up and he shuts up as you turn back around with the cookies. This time you don’t swat his hand away as he takes one. 

His eyes close as he takes a bite and you smile, knowing that you made him happy. “So fuckin good.” he mumbles with a mouth full. 

You’re standing in front of him when he opens his eyes, and you can’t seem to read his face as you smile up at him. His eyes seep into you and it lingers on your skin as his eyes flicker down to your lips. The room goes quiet besides the music in the background. 

And then he puts his coffee down along with the cookie, his hands reaching for the sleeves of your dress. Your heart is in your throat by the time he pulls you between his thighs, one hand on your wrist while the other rests at the back of your neck. 

Your smile is gone, eyes wide as his own burn into yours. Then his hand on your neck ever so slowly pulls you in, giving you time to move away. You don’t. 

The first press of his lips on yours steals the air from your lungs and leaves you completely breathless, completely entranced by the sensation of his touch. Your muscles loosen, your mind clears, and any sense of tension in your body disappears. You feel like putty in his hands, every ounce of your trust and affection poured into this single moment. He could do anything he wishes, and you would simply allow it. 

His lips are soft and comforting, the stubble a welcomed contrast as they move over yours again and again. There's a sweet and sensual feeling in the air, the connection between you both being amplified with every kiss.     

His hand trails up the back of your neck and into your hair, his fingers lacing themselves through the strands and pulling a deep sigh from you. The tender, intimate touch is causing you to melt, your body and mind slowly responding to his touch. The feel of his hand in your hair is both soothing and stimulating, drawing out a shiver from you.

He pulls away all too soon, leaving you wanting more. He holds you close, his warm breath fanning over your face as he looks into your eyes. You can see the smile slowly settling on his face as he sees your gaze, the longer he looks down at you the more his smile seems to grow. 

“I think you taste better.” He confesses in a whisper, his hand leaves your wrist and settles at the small of your back. 

You try to speak, but the words keep failing to escape your lips. You want to say so much, but there are so many thoughts and feelings racing through your mind that you can't translate them into words. It makes your tongue tired as it struggles to say how you feel, as if your feelings have completely filled your brain and left it with nothing left to speak.

At your lack of response, Joel's smile widens and his lips move down to kiss you once again, this time with even more tenderness and affection. The touch of his lips on yours is soft and gentle, sending an intoxicating sense of joy and comfort that sweeps through you. As his lips move over yours, brushing over them in a sweet and sensual way, you can feel yourself falling further into his arms.

And you think that maybe, you like the taste of your cookies better on his lips as he kisses you. The lingering flavours of vanilla and chocolate seem to blend perfectly with his mouth, as if designed to perfectly complement each other.

Notes

little thank you to @janaispunk for tagging me in the pinterest moodboard game and therefore making me sit on pinterest for an hour looking at cookies to bake and then write this. Thinking of making this a small series. Just small scenes losely based around rupi kaur poety as I read through their books.

[bi-writes]

i didn't have an amazing christmas this year so i projected this onto bestfriend!roommate!simon and im sorry about it but im also not sorry about it but i tried to end it nice

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 6/?)

cw: mature language and content, mentions of past trauma, mentions of unrequited love and lack of family, mentions of death and loneliness, allusions to violence

you waited for the ringing of the call to stop. you were seated on the couch, the laptop propped up in your lap as you stared at the screen hopefully. your heart skipped a beat when the ringing stopped, a circling loading screen popping up until a grainy video came through.

simon was seated in the dark; you guessed that he was hunkered down in his room, seated on his bunk. he had his skull mask on; the plate sewn onto a balaclava, eye-black hiding most of him in the void of the terrible quality video, and you tried not to notice the mysterious drops of something against the white of his mask.

"hey, simon," you greeted him, giving him a gentle smile. simon ran a gloved hand over his head, nodding.

"''ello, luv. i know the time is bad, if...if you want to head to bed, 's alright with me."

you scoffed, "you know that's not happening. i don't care what time it is here...i always want to talk to you."

he grunted lowly, looking away for a moment at something out of your view before looking back. you moved to go sit by the window, keeping the laptop propped up as you looked outside. you could see the soft lights lighting up the neighborhood; twinkling lights, mostly in red and green, sparkling between the soft snowfall that had began to fall against the pavement.

there was something so peaceful about the moment. you could see the wind pushing the snow at an angle as it fell, starting to add a fresh blanket of white to everything. if you squinted, you could see two people in the apartment across the street, trying to build a small bike in the early hours of the morning. one of them held papers, instructions you guessed, and the other held a screwdriver and was trying to fit the two back wheels onto a base.

"how are you?" you asked suddenly, looking back down at the laptop. "you look like shit."

simon laughed dryly, "you can't even see me."

"i know you," you laughed with him. "and i know that even through the shitty camera, you're worse for wear."

he hummed, looking down for a moment.

"i've had better days," was all he offered, and you swallowed hard, trying to look at him better.

"i miss you, simon."

you said it easily. you did miss him. he was so far away; you didn't know where he was, but you knew it was far. and he did not say when he would be coming back; you suspected he didn't even know himself when he would be.

"i miss you, too, luv."

you looked out the window again. you looked at the couple again, watching one of them take a few bites of some cookies that were laid out while the other had a few hearty gulps of the milk in the glass beside them. your eyes watered a little. their house looked...full. stockings hung over a dwindling fireplace, christmas tree lights giving the room a soft yellow glow, a mountain of presents gathered under a full tree of ornaments.

there was nothing in your apartment. no lights, no tree. you never liked to keep one; you had no one to buy presents for. and simon--this day only brought the wrong kind of feelings to the surface. feelings of torture, of unexpected discovery, of death and the stench of it which couldn't be covered by lighting evergreen candles or baking sugar cookies.

so much of the day surrounded family--of which you didn't have. no one to visit, no one to bring the wine while you cooked the ham, no one to hand you a gift and no one for you to give one to either. you had learned a long time that it was best not to dwell, but it was hard. it was hard when you looked across the street and saw people that had so much more of something. something that you desperately wanted, but couldn't be bought.

when you looked back down at the laptop, simon could see the tears in your eyes clear as day. your eyes were so glossy and wet, and he swallowed hard as he looked at your face, illuminated by the twinkling lights that were bright outside.

"sorry--" you whispered, reaching up and wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater. "sorry, i don't know why...i don't know what's wrong with me." you laughed it off, but simon could hear the pain in your voice. something aching and scratchy, something hollow.

"did...did you get what i sent?"

you looked up at him, frowning a little.

"sent? like...a package?"

"oh, christ, luv, don't tell me you haven't left the flat all day?"

you opened your mouth to respond, but you closed it, smiling shyly.

"just...go check outside. i can see it bloody snowing, go get it before it gets ruined."

you got up from your seat, going outside momentarily. when you came back inside, you had a wet box in your hands, and you set it down on the table as you when to go get something to cut the tape off. when you had opened the box, there was a smaller one inside, a nicely wrapped burgundy box that fit in your lap. you took a seat in front of the camera again, seeing simon's messy handwriting on the top of the box.

happy december 25th.

you laughed reading it, looking up at the camera after you reading the message.

"just another day, right?" he asked. you had new tears now, but they weren't sad. your heart was beating fast, making you take shaky, fast breaths, and you tried to smile, but it was hard.

"j-just another day," you whispered back to him. you took the top off the box, taking the tissue paper out to reveal a little plushie inside. it was a black teddy bear, but this one was unique. someone had fashioned a little skull mask of it out of felt, messily sewn fabric fit over the bear's face with the beady black eyes peeking out from the eyeholes--just like simon's. you picked up the bear, letting the box fall to the floor, and you tipped your head back as you tried to keep your tears inside. "simon--"

you and simon had never really gotten the chance to just be kids. to just be. to just enjoy and to receive something that didn't serve a purpose or a function, something unnecessary and trivial--something considered extra. because possessions were luxury, and you can't remember the last luxurious thing you had ever gotten.

"i know," he said lowly. "fuck, i--"

he pushed his own laptop down, and the camera tilted so you could only see his lower half. you watched him lose a bit of control, more tears coming down your face as you held your breath. simon cleared his throat loudly, ringing his hands together nervously before he picked the camera back up to his face.

"i'm getting the next fuckin' plane out of here, y'hear me?"

you brought the bear to your chest, hugging it gently before nodding. you wondered if this was why he had gotten you something like this--something to hold onto when he was gone. something to remind. something that would make you remember in the simon-shaped void you seemed to dwell in all too often.

"okay."

you had spent many december 25ths without him. you had spent many december 25ths right here, on a lonely windowsill, watching through the windows of lives that you wished you were living. this loneliness was not new--but now the loneliness was shared, and it hurt to share it.

you fell asleep there, watching glittering lights between the snowfall and holding the bear to your heart. the laptop went dark after awhile, and you slept there by the windowsill, wondering if anyone looked in and wanted to live this life instead.

the empty, quiet life of nothingness and bad dreams.

but it was something warm that woke you. a familiar hand, cradling the back of your head, whispering against your hair.

his breath was shaky. sucking in with difficulty, and then breathing out in rough stutters. your eyes opened slowly, your cheek squished against his tactical vest. you realized that he must've just gotten home--he was still head-to-toe in his gear, and you were staring up into the skull plate.

"simon--!"

you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. you gasped as you held him close, and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. your heart fluttered at the thought that he must've left as soon as he told you last night--determined to get back to you.

when you pulled back, simon rested his forehead against yours. you nuzzled your face against his, soft breaths as you grounded yourself in the realization that he's here, he's with me, he's alive.

"just another day," simon murmured, gripping your head with both hands. you swallowed hard, opening your eyes and meeting his own. you swear you saw something sad in them, something emotional, tears of some kind, but he blinked it away before you could look too long. "but i...had to come home."

your nodded reaching up and putting your hands over his on your face.

"i love you, simon."

if he had paid enough attention, he would've heard what those words truly meant. that you didn't just love him, you love him. not want, need, not a preference, but a requirement. undeniable, endless, raw, soul-sucking love--the kind that tore up your insides and spit them out without remorse.

but how can you really love someone like me?

simon tangled his gloved hands into your hair now, tugging gently.

"i love you more."

how can you love someone who's already dead?

[ghxstlike]

you shut my mouth (and buckle my knees)

pairing: mike schmidt/gn!reader

content: reader is michael's next door neighbor, mike is so awkward, mike has social anxiety & is bad at words, reader is so oblivious, reader is 19 & mike is 20/21, reader has daddy issues, fluff, this takes place before the events in the movie, no use of y/n.

summary: mike’s been avoiding you recently, and you automatically think he’s mad at you. when babysitting abby, she tells you the truth about his feelings about you.

author's note: the title is a lyric from ‘i want to be with you’ by chloe moriondo! also!! the fnaf movie is AMAZING and it’s one of my favorite movies now. this is cross posted on ao3!! enjoy :)

he’s never this quiet.

he’s always somewhat quiet, yeah, but not deathly silent. and he usually doesn’t avoid you, either.

being a babysitter is something you never expected when you moved into the house right next mike’s. you moved in about a year ago with your mom, due to her divorce with your dad. your dad wasn’t the greatest man, nor the best dad. he never left, but he was never involved in your life. so, your mom was pretty much a single mom. your mom wanted to move far away from your dad, landing up in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

a few days after moving in, your mom introduced you to mike and his little sister abby. the first time you’ve ever seen mike was…awkward, to say the least. you could tell mike wasn’t very comfortable in the conversation at first, with the way he swung back and forth on his heels. you, on the other hand, couldn’t focus with the most hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life standing in front of you. you loved the shade of brown his eyes were, they reminded you of a beautiful forest in the fall, late at night.

mike voiced to you both about how his recent babysitter wasn’t returning his calls and wasn’t showing up, so you stepped up to be abby’s new babysitter. you’re glad you did, since now you’re able to do fun things during the day and not sit in your room reading some lame book. you don’t get paid much, but that was the least of your worries.

now, you’re in the kitchen cleaning dishes. it was about 8 pm, so abby was already fast asleep. you and abby baked cookies and there was already a huge mess. in the middle of mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make a dough, abby pinched up a bit of flour and threw it at you. you looked up at her with an exaggerated gasp and a hand over your heart. to play with her little charade, you grabbed a tiny bit and threw in her direction. the fight of throwing flour between the two of you suddenly stopped as mike walked through the door. a feeling of guilt ran through your body when you realized what you’ve done, but there was still a huge smile on your face as you waved at him.

ever since then, he’s been sitting on the couch watching some sort of old cartoon. he usually stays in the kitchen with you, sitting at the table and talking about your day with abby. out of seemingly no where, mike stopped this routine. it bummed you out, obviously, but you didn’t want to force him to talk to you.

you sigh, grabbing the green and yellow sponge that was placed next to the sink. your mind began to wander, thinking about earlier that day. you feel terrible, but you just wanted abby to have a bit of fun. you shouldn’t have let it go that far.

you know how it feels to start something fun, and have it end up with your body filling with shame and embarrassment. especially at abby’s age. the last thing you want abby to feel is embarrassment from an adult. you also never wanted mike to be mad at you, but you have a slight feeling he already is.

you sigh again as you realize you haven’t apologized to mike about what he walked into. you bite your lip, turning around to see mike still sitting on the couch, eyes fixated on the TV.

you gently place the remainder of the dishes in the dishwasher, then quietly walk over to mike. you sit on the same couch as him, but on the other end of it. you look down at your lap, your eyes tracing the all the lines in your palm. after a few moments of being silent yourself, you speak up.

“mike?” you say in a hushed voice. his response was almost immediate.

he hums, eyes flicking to you and back at the screen. “yeah?”

his flat, low voice always made you feel warm inside. making your heart and stomach flutter with butterflies. but this time, the warmth that his voice brings goes directly down to your stomach, twisting it with anxiety. his whole presence made you feel giddy, like you were in high school with a newly founded crush. you swallow thickly before you speak again.

“i just wanted to apologize for earlier.” you pause, trying to find the right words to say and not mess this up. you want mike to speak to you, you want mike to spend time with you, you just miss him. “i-i shouldn’t have let it get that far.” you murmur.

mike doesn’t say anything at first, he just looks over at you again and nods. “you’re good.”

your stomach churns at his dry response. you nod at him, wiping your clammy hands on your jean-clad knees. “i should get going,” you say under your breath. again, mike doesn’t respond. he just watches you walk to the door, putting on your shoes in a hurry.

mike runs a hand through his curly hair, trying to figure out what he wants to say. he wants to say something, atleast a goodnight, but nothing comes out. you were too busy tying up your shoes to notice his conflicting face.

you open the front door of mike’s home and look over your shoulder. “have a good night, mike.” you say with a smile. mike’s hand does a slight wave, not returning the smile. you shut the door quietly, feeling absolutely crushed.

one of mike’s hands run down his face, hating himself for not saying something before you left. he also hated the way his heart clenched as you looked so sad when you walked out the door. “god dammit.” he grumbled to himself.

days have passed from that night. mike is still avoiding you, and being extremely quiet around you. you know it’s just you he’s being quiet around, since you hear him arguing with abby when you enter his home in the afternoon. just the thought of mike being mad at you pains you to your core, so much so that you avoid him yourself. you feel absolutely terrible, but stirring the pot could make it worse.

mike obviously notices your recent behavior, but didn’t say anything about it. instead, he’d think about it deeply when he’s in bed late at night. for weeks, he’d sleep terribly, just staying up all night figuring out what to say to you to make things better. he misses talking to you, he misses hearing your beautiful laughter and how your eyes sparkle with life when you talk about your interests.

today wasn’t very eventful, it was rather peaceful. you and abby sat at the dinner table, drawing each other pictures and talking. you noticed a drawing she was finished with and picked it up. it seemed to be you, mike, and abby all holding hands in front of a house. you smile softly, glancing up at abby, who’s doodling away with a yellow crayon. you look back down at the artwork and notice a small detail between the drawing of you and mike.

“abs?” you call out, not looking up from the paper. you hear a quiet clank as abby set down her crayon.

“yes?” she looks up at you, a slight smile apparent on her face. you set down the paper and slide it over to her. she looks down at her art, then back up at you.

“what’s up with the heart between me and mike?” you question, your stomach filling with nerves.

abby shrugs, the smile on her face never faltering as she talks. “he likes you, duh.” she giggles.

you sit up straight as your eyes widen. “what?” you whisper. your mind is running wild with all sorts of thoughts- he likes you?

“mike talks about you all the time,” she explains, picking up the yellow crayon again. “i hear him talking to himself about how-”

“abby.”

both of your heads snap toward the front door. it’s mike, he seems angry; his face is a slight pink and his hand is tightly clutching onto his bookbag that’s slung over his shoulder. abby quickly gathers up all of her art supplies that were scattered across the table and flees to her room, giggling loudly. you watch her run, smiling at her cute antics.

you hear a chair being pulled out and see that mike is sitting across from you. the picture of the three of you remains. mike only glances at it and seems to wince with a clenched jaw. he doesn’t look happy at all. you bite the inside of your cheek, getting all wrapped up in your head about what mike is thinking.

abby clearly had a misunderstanding of what mike was actually feeling. she had to.

minutes pass, and not a single word is said. to save your embarrassment (and his), the chair under you screeches as you stand up. “i-i’ll leave,” you suddenly mumble. you don’t notice the way mike’s head snaps up, watching you start to make your way to the door.

mike calls out your name before you’re able to reach the door. “stay,” he pauses to clear his throat. “uh, please.”

you turn around to see mike staring at you with his eyebrows slightly raised. without hesitation or any word, you sit back down. “is everything okay?” your voice sounds so soft, it makes mike’s heart melt.

he nods quickly, scratching the back of his neck. you can see that one of mike’s legs are bouncing and you can see sweat build up on his forehead. he loosens his tie, which makes your whole body warm up. you could feel the warmth spread throughout your limbs, stopping at your toes and fingertips.

“you don’t look okay, a-are you sick?” you exclaim with a worried look on your face. mike shakes his head no, huffing out a laugh.

“no, i’m okay, promise.” a grin appears on his face, amused with your sudden worry. “i just- abby wasn’t lying.” he blurts out, his eyes not meeting yours. you seemed to have a confused expression, so he went further. “when she said i like you.”

oh.

“oh.”

mike looks back at you, seeing that you’re completely and utterly flustered. he was right, you don’t see him the way he sees you. he feels himself sweat more, “is there something wrong?”

“no! no, no,” you ramble, laughing awkwardly. “is that why you were avoiding me for weeks on end?” you ask, your voice getting into a higher pitch. mike nods silently, eagerly awaiting for your response.

now that you think about it, everytime that you were in close contact with mike, his whole body would tense up and his face would turn pink. you almost hit yourself for not noticing sooner. instead, you laugh quietly. one of mike’s eyebrows raise, looking at you with a confused expression.

“i thought you were mad at me.” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers.

mike’s expression softens, “why would i be mad at you?”

“the day where abby and i made a mess out of the kitchen with flour,” you replied with a shrug. “that was the day where you started avoiding me.”

mike’s mouth opened, then closed. he did this a few times before finally saying: “that day was when i realized i liked you.”

you stayed silent as he continued. “i really didn’t mean to avoid you, but i just..” he stops and takes a deep breath. “i just, y’know, couldn’t find words when i was around you.”

your heart almost skipped a beat at his words, smiling ever so brightly at him. you felt so many emotions in that moment, where mike felt like he was about to faint from how pretty you look when you smile. he gives you a grin in return.

“i like you, too.” you say, still smiling. you giggle as mike sighs in relief.

his hand reaches over the table to grab yours. his hand is a little sweaty, but you don’t mind a bit.

he clears his throat, “that means i can take you on a date, right?”

you squeeze his hand tightly and nod before you realize something.

“who will babysit abby?”

[dyns33]

His Dark Sun

Time for me to post a bit more about Feyd Rautha.

"I dreamed of you."

First strange sentence from her betrothed when they met. Not really what Y/N expected from a Harkonnen, but not from anyone either. There were probably few people in the universe who would have dreamed of marrying her.

Children born under a dark sun were not highly regarded in most cultures. Bad omen, the certainty of something bad coming.

Absurd, according to the Bene Gesserit, who had often repeated that this had no impact on genetic heritage.

This kind of belief could serve them, like disrupting their plans.

This was almost the case following Y/N’s birth. Her parents, from one of the last great families of the empire, were afraid of her. They even wondered if it would not be wiser to kill her immediately, or if that would not risk bringing even more misfortune to them.

But they were also afraid of the witches, who ordered that they not touch the girl. She could be very useful in the future.

This was certain when Lady Jessica gave a son to Duke Leto Atreides. It was planned that she would only give him daughters, one of whom would marry one of the Harkonnen descendants, to ensure peace between the two families, but also for more confused projects.

Since it was not possible to marry young Paul to the Baron's heir, a new wife had to be found, because the lineage had to be assured.

The people of Giedi Prime worshiped their beloved Black Sun, so they were not the type to think that those born under an one were a problem. All their children were like this.

Under other circumstances, parents might have been reluctant to marry their daughter to a Harkonnen. They didn't really have a good reputation.

But at the same time, they remained an important family, one of the richest and most powerful in existence. In addition to forming an interesting alliance, they also allowed their clan to get rid of Y/N.

They could do whatever they wanted with her, even kill her, it would no longer be their problem the moment she left their planet.

As the eldest, it would have made sense for her to be given to Glossus Rabban, the Beast. But Baron Vladimir had favored his younger brother as his heir, and so she came to this dark city praying that Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was not as terrible as the rumors said.

He was more handsome than she expected. Anyway, as handsome as a Harkonnen could be, with no hair, eyebrows or eyelashes, his skin pale and his eyes icy.

Calm, polite, he advanced towards her before his uncle or brother could speak, making it clear that he wanted no one between him and his future wife.

"I've dreamed of you. Many times, since I was young." He said, kissing her hand to welcome her, his voice trailing slightly. “I suspected a witch.”

"I did not follow the teachings of the Bene Gesserit."

"I know."

The Harkonnens did not like witches. They had little esteem for their order and only respected them out of political concern, seeking every means to circumvent their authority.

It had been a surprise to everyone that the Na Barron would agree to a marriage they had orchestrated.

But Feyd Rautha was a man of honor, intelligent, ready for anything. On top of that, he had been intrigued by this story of black sun. He had inquired, he had seen a portrait of Y/N, and then declared that she was his.

Y/N had never dreamed of the Na Baron, and his attitude seemed strange, frightening.

She didn't believe in destiny. This was just another legend used by the Bene Gesserit for their own gain, nothing more.

But the Na Baron looked at her with amazed eyes, convinced that she was special.

It was very proud that he killed several prisoners in her honor in the arena, tearing out the heart of the strongest to offer it to her with fervor in front of the cheering crowd, delighted by the spectacle and the discovery of their Na Baroness.

Secretly, she thought that he could kill her like this the day he understood that there was nothing special about her, despite everything he might believe.

Y/N tried to make him understand it on their wedding night, afraid of what he was going to want to do while being convinced that she could accept anything from him.

"I am not as strong as my noble husband. I know that you have… You have particular tastes. If your expectations of me were too high…"

“Everything will be perfect.”

"Husband…"

"Say my name. Without shaking. My wife doesn't have to be afraid of me."

"… Feyd."

He didn't know how to be gentle, that was obvious, but for her Feyd Rautha did his best. At every nervous reaction from Y/N, he stopped for a moment to contemplate her, checking if she was just anxious because she was ignorant, or if she really didn't like what he was doing.

All her life, she had been mistreated, by her family, by other nobles, by her people. They were too afraid of the curse to touch her, but she had suffered greatly.

She never would have thought that the first person to treat her with tenderness would be a Harkonnen.

“No more tears for my Na Baroness.” whispered her husband, kissing her.

He didn't talk about it, but Y/N guessed that they had a past with similarities. It was common knowledge that young Feyd had been taken by his uncle to be raised on Giedi Prime, rather than staying with their parents.

In gratitude for this sacrifice, Glossus had killed their father, and his brother had killed their mother.

The slanderers claimed that they had acted on the Baron's orders, or with the aim of securing his favors.

But Y/N knew. She knew this bloody, dark desire that she had suppressed for a long time while standing next to her sleeping parents' bed. It would have been easy to slit their throats and be freed.

Feyd remained a prisoner, and not being able to kill his jailer, he attacked those who had allowed him to put him in a cage. Revenge, pure and simple.

Everyone had heard of the Baron's love for children. Why wouldn't he have loved his own nephew ?

He didn’t talk about it and Y/N didn’t force him to talk about it. Before each meeting with his uncle, he took her hand as if to give himself courage, and afterwards he avoided her for hours, days, because he did not wish to soil her.

Either he took out his rage in the training room and the arena, or he went to see his concubines.

He would have killed them all if Y/N had asked him to, just as he would have killed everything that had made her suffer.

But she saw that he cared about these creatures, obedient, without judgment, whom he could torture as he pleased knowing that that was all they were waiting for. There were things he couldn't do with his wife. He didn't want it, and neither did she.

So the Na Baron could continue to have his fun, while making sure his wife was happy.

The only time Y/N dreamed of Feyd, he was on a yellow planet. Sand everywhere, the sun beating down, and blood. A lot of blood. Bad omen.

Y/N could have said nothing. It was just a dream after all, nothing more, as all of Feyd's dreams meant nothing either, but he had been good to her, and she felt she had to talk to him.

He looked at her for a long time in silence, before nodding.

"Witches say there isn't just one path. Only possibilities. I saw us, ruling Giedi Prime, side by side, with our children. Your smile being the only thing that gave color at this place."

"… You think I saw your death."

"On Arrakis. My uncle just gave it to me. Rabban has failed, I must restore order there."

"It was very blurry. Feyd, I…"

"I will be careful, my Na Baroness. My sun. Now that I know of this possibility, I will be careful."

If she hadn't told him, no doubt he would have died with the Baron and his brother. Y/N could have said nothing, and she would have been freed from the Harkonnens, sent home where her family only wanted her dead, deciding to become the Baroness, or running away, far away.

But she had made a choice, and her husband was very honored by it. If she wanted him to live, then he would live, even if it meant some sacrifice.

He hadn't seen himself as emperor in his dreams, although he wouldn't have minded.

When a champion was asked to face Paul Atreides, Muad Dib, it was terribly tempting.

But he thought of Y/N, he thought of the dreams, and he bowed, knowing what awaited him if he accepted the fight.

In response to the emperor calling him a coward, he sneered that the old man should only take a sword and fend for himself.

Just before his uncle's death, Feyd had several tons of spices evacuated, to ensure a significant stock, while sending a message to the other great houses concerning the Imperium's betrayal of the Atreides.

Muab Dib had looked at him as if he were crazy, then something had changed in his face, a revelation, and all traces of judgment disappeared.

"… You dreamed too." he whispered, his face turning slightly towards a young Fremen girl, but his eyes not leaving Feyd, before quoting him. “Your pet.”

"My wife." the now Baron corrected him with a growl, refusing to let the Atreides compare Y/N to this savage he was going to betray to marry the Emperor's daughter. “My Baroness, who is waiting for me.”

"For her sake, I will let you go."

“Wise decision, because if you try to hold me back, I will cut your throat.”

And if they both knew the outcome of a fight for power, it was not certain that Feyd would not be capable of killing the young Duke with the motivation of finding the woman of his dreams again.

Both clever, none of them took the risk.

[mcflymemes]

ANYONE BUT YOU (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you still live at 28 fuckboy lane?

there's a reason why you're alone. no one can trust you.

i still think about the night we spent together.

these last few days really made me realize how much i miss you.

that night at your place, no matter how it ended, it was still pretty amazing.

so... you gonna kiss me now?

you'll always be my rock bottom.

okay, nuzzle my neck. get in there.

we are not together. we were faking it the whole time.

we have to kick it up a notch. make it feel like we're in the ga-ga stage.

you know, i feel really bad about that.

did you catch him measuring his dick with a ruler app?

you scared the shit out of me.

we're getting pretty good at faking it.

it doesn't matter how we found out.

permission to put my left hand on your right buttock?

okay, not in circles. it's not a magic lamp.

are you not wearing underwear?

we do not inherit the earth. we just borrow it from our creatures.

i have a better idea. you just let me do everything.

thanks for being so cool about all of this.

you want a coffee? it's the best n the world.

there's only one bed, but we hung a shower curtain in the middle.

hi. where's your bathroom?

i could have done it myself, but whatever. thanks.

thanks for not stealing my coat.

is that really a two person job?

you would let me die?

they think i'm throwing my life away.

no, that was rude. i apologize to anyone that was listening.

i don't know. i'm not good at this, sorry.

i'm from a different generation.

i'm not talking about love. i'm talking about dick.

all that matters is that we're together.

that's not me anymore. i'm free now. i'm deprogrammed.

no way, that man does not have a heart.

well, that didn't take long.

if i never ask you for anything ever again, can you please just lay off of me this weekend?

let's just have a moment to calm ourselves.

no one cares. no one can see us.

we were on a break, asshole.

either way, someone's lying to someone.

i must have really gotten under your skin.

you used none of those terms properly.

i cannot believe i just said that out loud.

i'm sorry. my life is a disaster right now.

look at this place. it looks like every serial killer reenactment documentary.

no matter how broken something is, there's always a way to fix it.

this whole thing is so new to me.

i don't really like labels, but i like you a whole bunch.

so are you going to ask me out now?

so if we were getting attacked by giant spiders, you would not be able to protect us?

you two know each other?

i'm going to go grab a drink. door's that way if you're looking to sneak out. i know that's your thing.

i'm going to get a drink and toast to never seeing you again.

how crazy is it that we're on the same plane?

why do so many of us feel stuck?

you don't even play tennis.

we're fine if he just stays away from me.

you're such a romantic.

i was hoping you'd come. i wanted to message you, but i didn't know how you'd feel about hearing from me.

they're also a little worried how you're gonna react to all this.

you have a little something in your teeth.

we need to come up with a game plan.

you are so terrible at this.

it's harder than you think.

they know i would never go out with a guy like you.

we just suck face in front of everybody.

you're calling me a fuckboy like it's an insult? i own that shit.

let's just be affectionate. i know it's a foreign concept for you.

you were the one who said there's a thin line between love and hate.

i think it was more of a euphemism for crying alone.

i definitely didn't hate you.

last night was the first thing i haven't regretted in a long time.

i love the weird way you stick your hand down my pants.

[vivwritesfics]

another one (cuz apparently im only on a roll at 2:36 am on a sunday morning) fernando (aka the love of my life aka the man of my dreams aka MY MAN) and idrc what it is like maybe hes ur bodyguard or dads best friend or best friends dad but i js NEED an age gap. thank you vivi.

I woke up thinking about this one lmao

Warnings: smut hints, age gap (the usual for this sexy old man lmao)

How did he let this happen? He knew it was a terrible idea, to let her tempt him into her bed.

But here he was, arms wrapped around her as she slept soundly. God, she looked so pretty, he thought as he watched her. Her chest steadily rising and falling as she slept, back pressed against his chest. His fingers were laced through her own, feeling every time she slightly flexed them in her sleep.

He looked past her, at the red numbers flashing on her alarm clock. Slowly and carefully, Fernando attempted to untangle himself from her. He wriggled his fingers from between her own and pulled back.

A cross between a whine and a groan left her lips when Fernando pulled away. "Where are you going?" She asked, voice croaky and her eyes not quite open.

He dropped a kiss onto her cheek. "I need to go," he whispered.

She turned in the bed to face him, the expression on her face furious. "Stay," she commanded. If he had been wearing any clothes, she would have grabbed his shirt to keep him in the bed with her.

Fernando looked past her, looked at her alarm clock once again. It was a risk, but she was worth it. "Five more minutes, Bichito." (Bug)

The minute he said it, she climbed her way on top of him, legs settling on either side of his hips. "Let's make the most of it, then," she whispered and dipped down, crashing her lips against his own.

***

Fernando watched as the daughter of the wealthy business man sipped her ice coffee. Round sunglasses covered her eyes and she had one leg crossed over the other. He couldn't deny that she looked good.

But she wasn't looking at him. That would have been unprofessional of them.

That didn't stop her from speaking to him. "What if I went on a holiday somewhere?" She asked and sipped at her drink. Although she wasn't looking at him, it was so damn clear she was talking to him.

"Where would we go, Bichito?" He asked, his gaze forward.

She shrugged her shoulders, and Fernando just about caught it out of the corner of his eye. "Somewhere private. Somewhere that nobody would bother us. Somewhere it could just be you and I."

Fernando couldn't stop the smile from gracing his features for just a second. Somewhere it could just be the two of them. That sounded amazing. Actually, there was nothing more that Fernando wanted.

She finished her drink, ice rattling as she stirred them slightly. But then she stood and began walking away from the café. Fernando fell into step just a few paces behind her. If he had been a weaker man, he would have let that distract him. Would have let the sight of her walking, the way her hips swayed from side to side, to distract him.

But Fernando was used to it by now. After the first time she managed to pull him between her sheets, she did what she could to try and pull his attention while he was working. Out and about, Fernando kept it under control. But the moment they were alone, he had her pressed against the wall, lips desperate against her own.

And that was what happened this time. He got her back to the family own, got her into her room, and trapped her against the door, his hands exploring her body.

The body he knew so well by now. He knew every dimple, every curve, every mole like the back of his hand. He knew every inch of her.

And that was wrong. It was so damn wrong. Fernando was forty and she was at least fifteen years his junior. No matter how hard he tried to stay away, he just couldn't.

His forehead was against her own, fingers brushing against her cheek. "Mi amor," he whispered and kissed her once. "Mi corazón," he whispered again and kissed her again.

"Nando," she whispered, fingers moving through his hair before she hooked them over his shoulders.

He held her chin, thumb gently pulling down his bottom lip. A noise was released from her throat, a desperate one that had him chuckling. "I'll take care of you." His hands moved to her hips and he pulled her away from the door, laying her on the bed.

It was wrong, so wrong, but Fernando couldn't stay away.

[pleasehelpmeimfying]

Could I ask for sub Aventurine? Maybe he is really in his head with work and wants to not think anymore so reader pampers them and gets them in subspace? Idk up to you 💙🩵

LMFAO TURNS OUT I DONT FULLY UNDERSTAND WHAT SUBSPACE IS😭 so I’ll try my best LMFAOOO BUT ILL MAKE THE FIC SCRUMPTIOUS 😍.

(No fonts due to my lack of storage. Mb goober :( )

{Amab!sub!Aventurine, possible Aventurine OOC. Angst if you squint hard enough. Amab!top!reader, blowjob, Aventurine receiving, Shitty rushed fic. Definitely gonna edit the story line later 💀…}

Read at your own risk.

Working day in and day out. Barely any time for breaks or self pleasure. It’s either something going terribly wrong or more idiots with little common sense fucking something up.

His work was never done. Aventurine just wanted a break, something to look forward to. The lack of sleep caused bags to slowly form under his eyes. The more he became more irritable, the more he was losing his mind in this work space.

Aventurine was reading over some delays that was recently reported, to focused in his paperwork to notice you entering his office with his favorite meal. Slowly you walked towards your lover with a small smile gracing your lips. You took advantage on how.. distracted he was.

You placed the food on a nearby shelf, slowly making your way behind him. Did he suspect a thing? Absolutely not, and it was amazing. Once you made it behind him you wasted no time to cup his face from the back and give him gentle kisses all over the left side of his face.

Did it startle him? Oh absolutely. Aventurine momentarily frozen in place, quickly recovering to a sly smile and weak chuckling. He should’ve known your ass would pull some shit like this. Yet he couldn’t resist melting into your warmth! You treated him all to well, and deep down he was still confused why anyone would choose to love someone like him.

“Aventurine, how long have you been working? You haven’t been home in a while.. I was getting worried something.. might’ve happened.”

Your worry and concern for his well being made his heart grow and grow. Filling up with unthinkable amount of love just for you. How long has it been since you held him? How long was it since he felt your love? To long perhaps. Still his eyes lingered at the work in front of him. Staring up at him with blank areas still to fill out.

Aventurine let out a stifled breath. His annoyance slowly creeping back at him. He just needed a little more time to finish before he was sure he wasn’t sure this man was dying rn that he was done for the night. Regretfully he would say the same thing as he did all those others times before.

“Hm, I need to get back to this. I swear I’m almost done my love. Just need more time..”

Genuinely you weren’t really paying much attention to what he was saying. Blocking him out with a playful smile. Then before he knew it, your guided his face to look at yours and placed more deeper kisses on his gorgeous face. Luring him to you. Did he care? Nahh..

You moved a bit away, taking your hands off his face. He felt his heart drop. Just a little bit! Before he saw you push his chair further from his desk so you could get better access to him. That damn back side of the chair was killing you slowly 💀.

“Your eyes.. you look so tried baby. I can’t allow you to keep working like this. How about we go home and get some rest, yea?”

Aventurine did NOT feel like moving. He just wanted to just slump against his chair. Though he would rather die than tell you that. So let’s put on that infamous poker face shall we?

He looked at you and gave you a smile. Weakly nodding in an attempt to play through his false facade. Did your bitch ass notice it? Yes and it was both concerning and hilarious. So you decided to cup his face one more time and bless his ears with your words. And in between words you kept squishing his face:3

“Second thought.. how bout we stay here just a little while longer. Relax a bit before you rush back home.”

Aventurine didn’t know what to do. First you wanted to go and now you wanna stay? Eh, he’ll just go with the flow. Though your hands felt so warm and soft. Once again he melted into your touch.. Then his mind wondered to places it shouldn’t have. First ranging to sweet thoughts, then to some more.. let’s say delusional thinking. Next thing you know as he has a ranging boner.

He knew that you knew about his problem. Probably why he turned into a whining mess in the next 42 minutes..

Hands tangled in your locks as he kept buckling into your mouth. Aventurine bit biting his bottom lips as muffled whines were forced out of his throat. Tears ready to spill at any moment as you kept going. Slurping his length without much care as your hands forced his thighs apart.

“<Y/N>.. please! I c-can’t hold- Nmmph! Hold I-It!♡︎”

Your mouth was warm and wet it almost made him go crazy. Aventurine didn’t know how your jaw wasn’t in agony by now. Forgot that thought, his lower half was absolutely being destroyed by you. Legs shaking as he tugged your hair one last time before combusting in your sweet mouth.

A gurgled moan slipped through Aventurine throat as the tears finally spilt. Back arching as his legs kept opening and closing. He just didn’t know what to do, what a poor baby.

“Shitshitshitshitshit… OohhHH! MmpPHH♡︎!”

His mind went completely blank. Not a single thought resided in that beautiful brain of his. Only tears and pleasure clouded his mind. He didn’t even notice you take his cock out of your mouth. He was just to fucked out honestly.

Aventurine body was twitching as he took deep breaths, trying to hold to some kind of saintly.

Maybe he would’ve finish his work later if he even remembered.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓

summary: the plan was to spend a chill movie night at the castle but when was the last time anything went according to plan in the devildom?

pairing: dragon! barbatos x afab reader (gn/no pronouns used)

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, dragon! barbatos, dom! barbs , aphrodisiac spit (idc if i made it up, deal with it), double penetration, two cocks, monster + tail fucking, breeding kink, oviposition, cream pie, pool sex, marking, a little bit of possessiveness (as a treat)

a/n: this is part of a low-key collab between @majoliish and me (aka we worked off the same setting and then branched off); i will update this with the link to his fic once he posts dia's part ♡

obey me! masterlist

The golden gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle swung open, revealing the grand hallway leading you inside. Awaiting you was, of course, none other than the royal butler, Barbatos. You couldn’t help the grin spreading on your lips as you skipped up the last steps to meet him, grateful for the warmth radiating against the frigid night air. 

“Good evening,” Barbatos greeted, slightly bowing, despite how often you told him not to. “It is most fortunate you could meet the Young Master and I for our Halloween movie night. As you are aware, the Young Master wished to spend the night before his grand birthday party learning more about human culture, so we appreciate you making the time for us.”

“No need to make it so formal, Barbatos, you know I’ve been looking forward to seeing you guys. You’re always terribly busy after all,” you laughed as he led you inside. The castle was lit entirely with candles tonight, making your shadows flicker as you walked.

“You are no better in that regard, always trying to reign in those brothers. It cannot be easy either.” When you entered what in other houses might be considered the living room, the smell of buttery popcorn, pumpkin spice and baked goods filled your senses.

“Wow, Barbs, speaking of busy, how many hours did you slave away in the kitchen for this?” You breathed in deeply, savouring the delicious aroma. “I can’t wait to ruin all your hard work by eating it. It smells divine.” 

“Oh please, this was nothing. There  would be no better compliment than enjoying yourself.” With practised ease, Barbatos helped you out of your coat, taking in the costume you were pulling at nervously with his malachite eyes studying you. “I must say, you look lovely tonight, as always. Though I’m afraid to say it is not fear my heart is shaking with.” 

“Thanks,” you stammered out, one hand bashfully rubbing your neck. 

You took this opportunity to take in Barbatos’s appearance as well. On first glance, his costume would pass for an ordinary demon form, however, his normally delicate looking horns had been replaced with ones growing backwards, branching out like sleek corals, and his ears had elongated into translucent fins. Different hues of blue and teal draped around him, the silky texture of his clothes shimmering with every motion and reminding you of the ocean.

Patches of scales were visible on his cheeks and collarbones, shimmering different shades of turquoise and aquamarine as he moved. As a nice surprise he had also removed the gloves he’d usually wear, showcasing claws that looked sharp and were probably sharper. Most intriguing of all, however, was the scaled tail swishing under layers of flowy, wave-like fabric. While it resembled his demon form in colour, the texture was completely different and it reached way further than normal.

“Wow, Barbatos, you look amazing,” you said, in awe at his graceful appearance. He was already a fascinating demon under normal circumstances but on this night it was hard to tear your eyes away from him. 

“Your high praise is ever so delightful, I shall remember it.” Again he bowed politely, the gesture smooth and elegant. “The Young Master and I have settled on the theme of dragons, though we both directed our focus on different kinds. As you can see, I have taken on the appearance of an aquatic dragon.”

Speaking of Diavolo, he met up with you shortly after, sporting a red and golden costume that played into his already dragon-like features and made him look even more impressive than usual. But in typical Diavolo fashion he was nothing but sweet as he greeted you, his joyful laughter bouncing off the wall as he gladly shared his excitement with you.

“Oh right, I almost forgot! I brought some snacks too!” You pulled various treats from your bag, some of them procured from the Human Realm with Solomon’s help but also a pack of chocolates Asmo had given you. “I know they don’t compare to Barbatos’s creations but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

“No, this is great!” Diavolo grinned, inspecting the candies from your world. “The purpose of this get-together is to learn about your culture after all.”

“Indeed, these provide a most valuable insight.” Quickly transferring them into various bowls, Barbatos set them up on the table in front of the biggest TV you had ever seen, before turning back to the two of you. “Shall we begin our movie night then?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for tight?” You laughed as you settled on the couch, Diavolo and Barbatos on each side of you. With a flick of his hand, Barbatos dimmed the flicker of the candles to a dim light, creating the kind of spooky atmosphere expected of a Halloween movie night.

It was nice to see some classic films from your world while trying everything laid out in front of you. Obviously Barbatos’s baking tasted even better than it smelled and you could have eaten every last piece of it, but the chocolates you brought were pretty decent as well, your companions agreeing.

All in all, it was just the kind of relaxing night you didn’t get often around here and which you desperately needed.

Half-way through your second film, you’d noticed Barbatos shift rather often, which was unusual for someone as composed as him, to say the least. He’d assured you everything was alright, that it was just the unfamiliar attire that took some getting used to. Still a little sceptical, you turned back to the movie and tried to trust his judgement.

The heat radiating from both sides was getting harder to justify by the two just being demons and your concerns were proven right when Barbatos, of all demons, excused himself and took an awful amount of time just to never come back.

You apologised to the prince as you got up to search for the butler yourself. Something was definitely wrong and if there was someone who was predestined to uncover it, it would be you. The only problem: the castle was huge and Barbatos was more skilled at appearing and disappearing wherever and whenever he liked.

The halls were eerily silent, making your steps echo loudly in your ears despite the plush carpets. Every few metres you looked over your shoulder when the flicker of your own shadow or the branches moving outside the window caught your attention from the corner of your eye. Whenever a particularly strong gust of wind howled and rattled the windows, your steps hastened just a little bit.

When you had already opened just about every door and checked every room you came across, you were about to give up. Clearly, Barbatos didn’t want to be found, so what were the chances that you could?

You pushed open the heavy door to the palace pools, inhaling the distinguishing smell associated with pools and feeling the humidity in the air. The moon was full and high in the sky as it shone its silver light through the round centre of the all-glass window front and the waves broke the light, reflecting a hypnotising pattern onto the walls.

It might have gone unnoticed under the moonlight but a splash in the water alerted you to the presence in the room. There, in the centre of the pool, teal hair floated through the water, the long flowy fabric of Barbatos’s costume moving around him like the iridescent tentacles of a jellyfish.

“Barbatos!” You exclaimed, already at the edge of the pool by the time his name fully left your lips. Of course, his attention was already on you; he never could have missed you entering the room. “There you are! I was so worried, you know. But it’s an odd time to take a dip… not that I’m judging you or anything.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” the demon chuckled, a low and melodic sound that had your heart melting. “Although I assure you I would not be here if it was not strictly necessary to my predicament.”

“Your predicament?” You questioned, squatting down to be closer to him. “What’s going on? Are you ill or something?”

“Your concern warms my heart, truly,” he smiled. From up close you could see the scales that looked so realistic glistening with the water drops that dripped from his hair. In the moonlight they looked like they were made of precious gemstones and you couldn’t help but think how good he looked like this. Extending a courteous hand to you, his stunning eyes found yours. “Why don’t you join me and I'll show you what I mean? I promise there’s nothing dangerous about it.”

Without hesitating you put your hand in his, fully trusting him. Then you realised how detailed his costume was. You hadn’t noticed earlier but the colour of his teal nails extended onto his fingers as well, right about to the second knuckle, contrasting the translucent webbing spanning between his fingers. 

Then he pulled you into the water and steadied you by the waist when you jumped because of the chill. You could feel his claws digging into your hips through the wet clothes sticking to your skin. But you hardly had time to think about it as you were already drifting through the water, securely held in Barbatos’s grip, who was cutting through the water as if it was nothing. Sure, he always looked effortless but it was as if he didn’t even need to move his legs.

That was when you felt it. Amongst the tingling sensation of his silky attire wafting around your legs, something strong and scaly brushed against your calf. You of course saw the tail earlier but it was just a costume, surely it shouldn’t be this functional… or this long.

“You seem rather speechless, what is the matter?” Spinning you around as you came to a stop, his chest pressed against your back, your hand still in his grasp. His voice was low as his lips rested near your ear, the vibrations of his voice travelling down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when I found out I had turned into the very thing I was masquerading as this entire evening.”

“W-What?” You stuttered, trying to wrap your head around this new piece of information as Barbatos’s lips attached themselves to the skin behind your ear. “You turned into a dragon? How?”

“Because of you, my dear. Or rather, because of those chocolates you brought. An accident perhaps,” he muttered as his mouth travelled down the side of your neck and lavished the juncture where your neck met your shoulder with attention. “Or perhaps you knew full-well of the effects it had and it was a deliberate move on your part? No matter what is the case, are you ready to face the consequences of the situation you have put me in?”

“The consequences?” You airily asked, focusing on keeping your thoughts in line as Barbatos leaned over you and started trailing kisses all over your jaw. The hand that was on your waist all this time had moved to hold the other side of your face, angling your head the way he pleased. This dominant side of Barbatos made you thank the stars that your knees couldn’t buckle as you melted into his hold.

“Looking at you, I’m certain you are already aware,” the demon said, though he still pressed his hips into your backside for emphasis. The feeling of the big bulge straining against his clothes had you stifling a moan by biting your bottom lip. “If I may be so bold to read your reaction, you want this too, do you not? If not, you should voice it now as I can feel my self-restraint slipping.”

There was no denying it, you had been dreaming of having Barbatos like this since you had gotten to know him. Something about the butler had captivated you and your interest had only grown the more time you spent around him. And though you would never admit it, the image of his skilled fingers doing other things than preparing tea had filled your mind on more nights than one. Even if he wasn’t completely himself right now, you would not be idiotic enough to pass up this chance.

“Barbatos, please,” you all but whimpered, trying to grind your hips back against him in the water, your fingers grazing over the fin on his ear as you reached back for him. His groan sounded like music to your ears and you could feel the arousal starting to pool below your navel. 

“What are you pleading for, my dear?” Barbatos whispered, his lips almost brushing yours now as he pulled you even closer to him. “What are you thinking of? Tell me, so I can make it become reality.”

“Please touch me, Barbatos,” you begged, aware how needy you sounded when he hadn’t even done anything yet. “I need you to.”

“As you wish,” he approved before slotting his lips against yours. They were slippery from the water but still pillowy-soft and soon you were humming against them. As if to swallow your noises, Barbatos parted his mouth and you felt a split tongue flick against the seam of your lips.

You easily granted him access, allowing him to tangle his tongue with yours but you had underestimated his transformation, which granted him an inhumanly long appendage to map your mouth out with. Occasionally, your tongue would bump into the tip of one of his fangs and it sent a shiver down your spine. When you parted to allow oxygen back into your lungs, rather than water, it was your shared saliva coating his lips and connecting you both by a string.

“So soft and obedient…” Babatos groaned as he nipped at your shoulder, sharp fangs grazing the skin but not breaking it. Turning you to face him, he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist as he moved you through the pool again. “No wonder demons fall for humans’ temptations so easily. You make it incredibly difficult to control myself.”

Shortly thereafter, the edge of the pool dug into your back as your demon started working on freeing your body from your costume. Uncharacteristically enough, instead of meticulously peeling you out of it, the loud sound of ripped fabric could be heard over the rippling water. Whatever was left of your clothes was carelessly tossed somewhere onto the floor, Barbatos too busy licking and sucking all over your collarbones and chest to care.

As you were stripped bare piece by piece for his eyes to drink up, you rolled your head back when his tongue literally wrapped around one of your pebbled nipples, making you gasp. Threading your hand into his teal locks, you gave them a harsh tug when his mouth closed fully around your areola, no doubt leaving a red ring of imprints around it. To keep you steady as your back arched into his touch, you felt pinpricks of his claws digging into your hips, the pain making you moan out in lust. 

Seemingly drawn in by the noise and determined to coax more of them from you, Barbatos connected your lips again in an open mouthed kiss that felt filthier than the first one as he crowded you against the edge of the pool, pressing his hips into your swivelling ones. The more he kissed you the foggier your mind became, slick starting to ruin your underwear which was clinging to your folds. It also loosened your inhibitions, having you moan freely and making you beg without shame as long as he touched you.

“You are truly magnificent,” he whispered as if it was something only deemed fit for your ears to hear. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his wandering fingers, claws grazing your skin as light as feathers, the ghost of his touch spreading across your entire body. “The finest works of art do not compare to you. It’s my deepest pleasure to have you all to myself and leave my mark on your beauty.”

“More, please, more,” you whimpered and Barbatos would be a fool not to give you exactly what you wanted when you were giving yourself to him so freely.

“Such a good human, already begging me so sweetly,” he crooned against your temple, water droplets from his hair landing on your feverish skin. With a quick swipe of his claws, the restricting fabric of your bottoms and underwear fell away and you sighed at the cool sensation of the water enveloping your heat. “Anything for you.”

You felt weightless as Barbatos lifted you out of the water to settle you on the edge, then swam closer to take his rightful place between your legs. Even if you wanted to close them out of embarrassment, you couldn’t, not with his strong, webbed hands keeping you spread wide open for him as his nails dimpled the fat of your thighs. To steady yourself and avoid keeling over, your fingers found their way back into his hair, this time grabbing hold of the base of his horn.

The tips of his tongue flicked around the inside of your thighs, gradually wandering closer to where you wanted him most but in your opinion he was needlessly drawing it out. By now, your muscles were twitching in need at his sweet torture and your fingers tightened around his horn. In return, a sharp nip into the inside of your thigh jerked your hips and heat shot through your veins.

“Patience, my dear,” he reprimanded, eyes sharp as he looked up at you. You could see his tail flick behind him, the fin and tapered tip breaking the surface of the water every now and then. “I need to prepare you well for what’s to come or you’ll struggle to take all of me.”

In response, you clenched around nothing, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the dragon in front of you. His eyes attentively tracked the way your slick gathered on his fingers as he carefully ran a digit through your slit, careful not to nick you with his claws. Your entire being seized up when he put pressure on your neglected clit which only started pulsing more intensely under his treatment.

The tongue you had grown to love slipped past his lips and lapped your arousal from his own digits making him sigh. “You already smelled delicious but you taste so much more exquisite. I have to get a proper taste if you offer something so sweet to me.”

Just from watching him, an embarrassing amount of slick had started to soil the tiles you were sitting on and you couldn’t remember ever being this worked up before. So it felt like heaven when Barbatos’s tongue finally came into contact with the sensitive skin around your core. For a moment you thought he’d tease you further but he decided to be merciful and drag the appendage through the length of your slit, the tip pressing down on your clit after the delightful reaction you had shown him earlier.

If you thought the butler was already skilled with his fingers you had severely underestimated his oral capabilities. When he’d drenched your core in his spit to his satisfaction, your folds even more susceptible to his every touch now, he wasted no more time diving into your heat.

“Barbatos!” Your gasp of his name echoed around the otherwise empty pool area and you gripped the tiled edge for dear life. The length of his flexible tongue allowed him to easily map out your body and find every last sensitive spot of your velvety walls. “So good! Don’t stop, please!”

Spurred on by your praise, one hand reached up to circle your clit, the movement fast and precise and you simultaneously pushed your hips forward and his head closer to you. Peering down through your lashes with half-lidded eyes, you saw that his striking eyes were already on your face and the sight of him between your legs, his clothing fanned out around him and his scales shimmering under the surface, was almost enough to push you over the edge.

By now, your entire being was so sensitive, the faintest of movements had you twitching and clamping down on his tongue. You didn’t know what was up with you and you didn’t think about it further, the only thought in your head being how much you wanted to cum. 

“You’re almost there aren’t you?” He gently coaxed and was satisfied by the melody of your broken moans mixed with syllables of his name dripping from your lips like the sweetest of nectars. Barely parting from you to speak, his hot breath fanned your lower lips as the pads of his fingers continued the assault on your clit. “Be a good human and show me how well you can cream all over my tongue. I know you want to, so go ahead and give me all of you.”

As if your body had only waited for his approval, you did as you were told and came with a high-pitched moan of his name. Without realising it, you were white-knuckling both the tiles and Barbatos’s hair as pleasure coursed through your veins and pulled you under the waves of ecstasy. Said demon didn’t seem to mind though, instead just diligently keeping up the sinful caress of his fingers until you were trembling in overstimulation like a leaf on a lake. 

When you pushed him away from you, his hands settled on the curve of your hips and gently lifted you back into the water with him, carrying your entire weight as you rested against his chest, relaxing into the hypnotic sensation of his hands wandering all over you and massaging your tired thighs.

“As much as I’d love to let you rest, I’m afraid we are far from done,” he whispered, lovingly kissing the crown of your head, actions betraying his words. The hands that had lovingly taken care of you, wandered to your butt and kneaded the flesh there, all the while grinding his hard erection against you. “This was just the beginning of the pleasure I can show you, after all.”

Finally discarding his clothing as well, he revealed his flawless skin which shined like silver in the moonlight. You slung your arms around his neck as Barbatos curled his heavy tail around your middle, keeping you flush against him so he could grind his hard cock against your soaked folds and coat himself in your release. And suddenly you understood why his bulge had felt so big against you earlier.

Instead of one, two heads kept bumping into your clit.

“Barbatos, I don’t think I can–”

Before you could finish your sentence, your doubts were silenced by his lips on yours and slowly the fear of pain was replaced by the anticipation of a delicious stretch and the feeling of being fuller than you’ve ever felt. 

“Don’t worry, my love,” Barbatos spoke through the mist clouding your brain as he hiked you higher on his waist and wrapped your legs around him, “I won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure you’ll take all of me and that you’ll beg for it.”

You squeezed his hips between your thighs as you sighed into the crook of his neck. “Who knew that you had such a dirty mouth on you under that prim and proper façade?” 

“It is hardly a façade, merely the proper etiquette expected of me by my position.” The end of his sentence already trailed off into a groan as the mushroom head of his bottom cock breached the tight ring of muscles with ease, the stretch facilitated by how worked up you were. Though, the foreign oversensitivity you were experiencing on this night had you clenching hard around him and enveloping every prominent vein. “Under these circumstances, however, it is natural I’ve been released from my royal duties. So right now I’m just the demon Barbatos.”

“You’re always you to me,” you whimpered through the pressure building in your abdomen. “Never just a position, always yourself.”

“No, if I were myself around you,” he bottomed out slowly as you panted against his collarbones while trying to get used to his girth, “I would have given into my urges and made you mine already; would have had you writhing underneath me far earlier than it would be appropriate.”

At his confession, fiery passion blazed through your nerves as you remembered how often you had fantasised about him on quiet nights. To find out he felt the same way made you crave him more, your hand clawing at his shoulder as you did your best to swivel your hips even if all your muscles seemingly turned to jelly with him filling you so deliciously. 

“And I would have let you,” your own admittance was quiet against the heartbeat pulsing in your ears but Barbatos heard you clearly. The sound he let out was the most animalistic yet, barely human anymore and it shot straight between your legs. “Move and– And you can have me any way you want now…”

“All this time spent in the Devildom and you still don’t know when you’re getting yourself in trouble,” Barbatos’s jaw clenched as he slowly pulled out of you, making you feel every vein and ridge against your walls, until only his tip remained inside of you. Then, without warning, he thrust as deep as he could, pulling you back down simultaneously. “You need to watch what you’re saying to a demon such as myself.”

The slow pace he set at the beginning was quickly abandoned in favour of pounding into you, almost using you like a toy with how easily he moved you up and down on him to meet his thrusts. Nevertheless, he never lost his ability to hit your most pleasurable spots dead on, not that he could really miss them with his girth. 

Vaguely, you registered his tail winding around you but you didn’t realise his intentions until something scaly was catching some of your arousal before poking your other hole, making you gasp out his name. Then, his mouth was on yours again and it became harder to hold on to lucidity the more you swallowed around his tongue, your speech becoming even more incoherently slurred as pure lust swirled in your belly.

“It’ll be alright, you can take it. You just need to relax for me,” Barbatos whispered. At this point you didn’t think you had control over your body anymore, instead having your strings pulled by the demon whose arms you were held in. His tail wriggled in further and further, through the thrusts that hadn’t ceased alone, and the pressure against your walls from both sides wound the knot in your stomach impossibly tighter. “There we go, you’re taking it so well. Almost as if you were made for me.”

Somewhere in your mind, you agreed. With the way he was moulding your insides to the shape of his dick you were positive he was currently ruining you for any other man. As your head rolled to the side, you barred the expanse of your neck to him and Barbatos gladly took the invitation to leave more evidence of this night behind, every kiss and lick searing hot against your already feaverish skin.

Just when you thought the pleasure would finally drive you to insanity, Barbatos angled his hips in a particular way and struck gold by having his second dick apply pressure on your clit, immediately drowning you in another orgasm that left you gasping for air. The day after, there’d be vicious red marks decorating his back but neither of you cared right now as you spasmed in his arms, your muscles no longer listening to you. 

Vision hazy, you barely registered the texture of the tiles underneath your torso until your cheek squished against them. Your legs were still submerged as Barbatos repositioned himself behind you. Spreading your ass with his webbed hands, he watched as your glistening holes twitched against the newfound emptiness before he gave you what you were missing.

“I can’t believe you’re still so tight,” he groaned, cursing under his breath as he lined up both of his cocks and bottomed out until his balls slapped against your clit in one smooth trust. The upper one of his dicks wasn’t quite as girthy but still filled you up deliciously until you couldn’t anymore if the stars you were seeing were the real ones behind the window. 

“You look so beautiful, all splayed out for me. And I’m certain you’ll look even more enchanting carrying my clutch,” Barbatos panted, the strain from fucking your brain out finally getting to him as well. “Such a waste that they won’t take like this. You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you? To carry my eggs around? Oh dear, I can feel you clamping down on me… We’ll leave that for next time, I suppose.”

Only half of what he was saying was registering in your mind but the low, rich timbre of his voice had your own moans rising in cadence and pitch, creating the most sinful symphony. The rhythm of his hips, however, started to falter as the pulsing of your warm walls coaxed him to the peak as well.

Your breasts rubbed against the cold tiles with every thrust, the difference in texture and temperature adding to the stimulation. Despite not being able to see it, you could hear the splash of his tail behind him followed by stray water drops landing on your back. Snaking his hand between your legs, you guessed he truly tried to drive you mad with pleasure as he leaned over you with stuttering hips.

“Barbatos–,” you downright sobbed in warning, “I’m so close.”

“I’m almost there too, just keep sucking me in like this… That’s a good darling,” he groaned out before his fangs sunk into your shoulder.

If you thought you felt full before, you weren’t prepared for the sensation of the first egg being pushed inside of you. You could feel the bottom shaft swell with the oval shape as your muscles stretched further to accommodate for the size. It reminded you of the first time his tip had spread you open, only ten times as intense.

Just when the first one slipped through your tight opening, you came. Hard. And it wouldn’t stop, prolonged by several more of his eggs nestling inside of you. At the same time, your other hole was stuffed to the brim with hot strings of white, leaving you to feel completely stuffed. 

By the time Barbatos pulled out of you, you were still left gasping for air, dripping cum and slick and trembling against the edge of the pool. After admiring the sight in front of him for a little longer, he gently pulled you back against him, letting himself drift backwards in the water. With your back resting against his chest, it was easy for Barbatos to knead the knots out of your sore thighs, hands wandering to stroke over your belly every now and then. Lovingly, he kissed the top of your head as you clung to lucidity, his tail curling around the length of one of your legs. 

“You did so well for me,” he reassured you, stroking along your arms. “And do not fret about the eggs. Since they won’t take like this, they’ll just come back out. Of course, I’ll be there to help you through it. Though I was quite right, you look positively enthralling carrying my clutch.”

“Well, getting to this point felt amazing as well, though I doubt I’ll be moving a single muscle tomorrow,” you admitted, making a chuckle rumble in his chest. Sighing as you shifted in his hold you added, “Guess I’m not so upset I accidentally fed you some magic chocolate if it gave you two dicks. I’ll still get Asmo for it though.”

“Please do.” You could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers traced your body. “Though I must correct you: It was not the transformation that gave me this anatomy.”

“Wait, you always–”, you gulped.

“Naturally. However else could I have promised you to breed you properly in the future?” The teasing tone hiding behind his polite demeanour and closed-eyed- smile did not go unnoticed by you. “That is, of course, if you are willing to help me understand the human body even better.”

“I- I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you answered bashfully.

“Splendid. Now then, given the nature of the candies I suppose the effect should wear off when Halloween night ends,” Barbatos cleared your next question before you even posed it. “Judging by how high the moon still stands, it appears we still have plenty of time.

“Perhaps we should test your stamina next while we see how many clutches you can carry?”

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[pandorxxx]

Same page

Jake (avatar) x omatikayan fem reader (reader is in her early 20’s.)

Warnings: Cursing, p in v, orgasms, creampie, mentions of rough sex (bruises, dirty talk), smacking, Jake being a dilf, Tummy bulge.

Synopsis: Jake was an honest guy, a great leader, an amazing warrior, and loved by all. However, he has a terrible secret that you just won’t seem to let him live down. What will he do to keep you quiet?

Jake was always a pretty straight forward, honest man. After all, he was the leader of his own clan. Everyone loved, and adored him. He was always a great leader, and a helping hand. He had the perfect family, the perfect clan to run, and the perfect life. Or so it seemed.

It’s safe to say that everyone makes mistakes, everyone slips up once in a while. But jakes mistake was almost career ending. The people wouldn’t forgive him, his family wouldn’t forgive him, and your parents wouldn’t forgive him either.

This incident happened about a year ago. It was jakes birthday, and his warriors threw him a grand surprise party. There were food and drinks, maybe too many drinks. And once the party was over, and Jake was too drunk, he accidentally stumbled into your hut, and made the worst possible decision.

It wasn’t until he woke up to you serving him breakfast that he had realized the gravity of the situation. What made it even worse was that, you were completely swoon by him now. Some would even say crazily obsessed. You’d watch him train warriors from the trees, and watch as he’d embrace his wife as a normal husband would. But God, did it make your fucking blood boil.

You wanted to play it cool. You weren’t the type to blackmail or anything, but you were becoming a mad woman. You needed a hit of him again, and at this point, you’d do anything to get it.

“Just like that, chin up!” Jake directed as he paced slowly to make sure every warrior was holding their bow correctly.

“Good, Good! Hold it.” He commanded, standing in place as his huge arms crossed against his chest, eyeing every warrior in his sight. It wasn’t long until he heard faint steps behind him. He turned around to be met with your tiny figure, and his eyes almost bulged out of his scull.

“Bows down!” He commanded. The warriors immediately listening. “Uh, we’ll wrap this up tomorrow kids! Go on, dismissed! Enjoy your night.” He spoke nervously as he waved the warriors off. Once there were no more in sight, he grabbed your arm, pulling you to a nearby tree.

“What are you doing, y/n?” He asked in a surprisingly calm tone, considering you had been stalking him for a year now. But Jake always prided himself on being a patient man.

You smiled up at him, rubbing circles into his sides. Making him squirm under your touch. “I just wanted to see you. Is that ok?” You pouted, but he knew what game you were playing with him.

“What do you want, little one? You shouldn’t be here. You’ll get me in trouble.” He spoke lowly, holding your wrists in one of his large hands so that you couldn’t touch him anymore.

“You know what I want, sir.” You spoke sensually, eyes falling to his loincloth in wonder. He snapped his fingers, signaling for you to look him in the eyes, and you obliged.

“Never again. Do you hear me? You’re as old as Neteyam. This is not right.” He shook his head, looking around the forest nervously.

“One more time, and I’ll leave you alone. I know you were drunk the first time, and you probably don’t even remember. But I promise, I can fuck you so good. Way better than your wife.” You rambled, eyeing him up and down hungrily.

“Hush! You don’t know what you’re saying. I-I’ve corrupted you. And I feel horrible about it, I really do. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n.” He confessed, looking into your eyes. However, you weren’t looking for an apology.

“Don’t apologize. I loved every minute of it. The things you did to me, the things you said. The love bites you left. I’ve never been fucked like that in my life.” You whined, bottom lip finding refuge in between your teeth.

“Wait. Things I said? W-What did I say to you?” He asked in a confused tone, his eyebrow cocked as he awaited an answer. You sighed happily, thinking back to that night, as you often did.

“How I was better than Neytiri. How tight my pussy was. How pretty I was. How well I took your fat fucking cock, how-“ you went to continue but he placed his large hand over your mouth.

“Fuck, enough.” He strained, removing his hand from your mouth. You smirked up at him, your tail swaying behind you in anticipation.

“And don’t get me started on the bruises you left on me. Didn’t know I was so into pain until you came around. Now I only want you to hurt me.” You smiled, running a hand down his chiseled abs.

“I hurt you? How?” He asked. Jake was completely oblivious. He wasn’t a stranger to sex, especially with his nympho of a wife. But he couldn’t recall ever hurting Neytiri in the way that he hurt you.

“You were just alittle…rough. But don’t worry. I’m a big girl. And I want it again.” You spoke, grabbing the band of his loincloth. He instinctively grabbed your wrists quickly, stopping all advances.

“I’m not- I can’t do this.” He spoke nervously, running his hands through his hair. You went in, kissing his chest shamelessly.

“Just one more time, please? You can’t fuck me how you did, and just leave me hanging JAKE. I need it, dammit!” You snapped, stomping your foot in anger.

“God, keep your fucking voice down!” He strained, backing you into the tree with one little push, holding you there with one finger.

“I-I’ll do it. But this is the LAST time, you hear me? I don’t wanna hear about this ever again.” He commanded, ripping your loincloth off in anger. He was just ready to get this over with. His entire plan was to give you the most intense fuck of your life, so that you wouldn’t come back to him. Good plan, right?

“I promise! I promise I won’t talk about it again!” You nodded excitedly, eyes bulging out of your scull in excitement. He shook his head in frustration.

“How do you want it?” He asked, getting harder by the second. He was a man at the end of the day, and you were very beautiful.

“Like last time.” You spat, running your hands up his arms. He let out a sigh of frustration, placing his hands on the bark behind you.

“I don’t remember last time, honey. You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, hmm?” He titled his head, peering down at you as he awaited an answer.

You chuckled into your hand like a nervous young girl who was talking to her crush for the first time. He pulled your hand away from your mouth gently.

“No, you can’t get scared on me now. Tell me how I had you. What, was it from the back? Front? Side? In what way was I fucking you to have you so damn obsessed, tell me.” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down you spine. You let out a soft whimper at his words, so ready for him to take you as his.

He began to kiss your neck gently, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His large hands found refuge on your plump ass, squeezing it gently as he let out a low groan in satisfaction.

You could feel the waterfall pooling from in between your legs. You could also feel his large bulge pressing against your lower abdomen, thumping against your skin in anticipation for what’s to come.

You reached around lazily, untying his loincloth from around his hips. Once it fell, his cock sprung up, hitting his lower abdomen with a very loud, and heavy slap. Oozing precum trickling down his huge shaft, and all the way to his warm sack.

“Pick me up, sir.” You spoke nervously, standing on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck. He smiled down at you, immediately obliging.

He held you up in the air. Giving your plump ass a nice smack. “Mmm, so this was how I had you.” He whispered against your lips, before kissing you passionately. You grabbed the sides of his face to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft yet skilled. Completely taking over as his tongue explored your mouth.

He deemed it the perfect time to slide into you. Holding you up by your ass with one hand, while he grabbed his aching cock, giving it a few strokes before lining it up to your entrance.

With one hand, he guided you down onto him slowly, making sure not to hurt you. But it was safe to say that you felt full already. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head in his neck to muffle your loud cries.

“I know, babygirl. Just a few more inches. You’re doing amazing.” You whispered in your ear, sucking on the lobe before completely bottoming out with a loud growl. Your mouth flew opened with a loud gasp. With little to no warning, he began to bounce you on his cock firmly.

You backed up to look at him, placing your shaky hand on his stomach. “S-Sir, too much.” You strained, watching the large imprint form in your stomach with every thrust.

“Does it not feel good, babygirl? Didn’t you tell me you liked the pain that comes with it? You dirty little whore.” He tilted his head, watching his cock completely destroy your guts. The mix of pleasure and pain was consuming you. Similar to that mosquito bite that you continue to scratch; it hurts so good, and you can’t stop.

“I-I know. B-But I-mmm! too good, sir. I-I can’t!” You whined, your body flailing around from his hard thrusts. He began to slow down, thrusting into you at an agonizing pace. If you were being honest, this pace might’ve been worse. You could feel every inch, ridge, and vein as he pumped into you slowly.

“Better?” He asked with a devilish smirk, knowing that you were slowly crumbling beneath him.

“So *thrust* fucking *thrust* big! *thrust*” you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head in satisfaction. He watched in awe, you were completely drunk off of him, just how he liked it.

“Yes, I’m destroying this tight little pussy, aren’t I?” He asked, listening to the squelching sounds followed with every slow stroke he sent you.

“Yesss, sir!” You nodded lazily. He sent you one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you. Your jaw became slack, looking into his eyes.

“Say Thank you. For giving you the best dick of your life.” He growled, repeating the same hard stroke again, leaving it in you. You gasped loudly, eyes crossing as he overstimulated you.

“Say it, Princess.” He teased, repeating the same action again, this time, rolling his hips directly into your sweet spot. You let out a loud squeal, your eyes shutting tightly.

“Thank you, sir! T-Thank you so much.” You confessed breathily. He let out a loud chuckle, immediately speeding up the pace again. Sounds of skin clapping overpowering your very loud moans.

“And tell me how much you love this dick, hmm? How much you love when I feed it to you…niiiice and slow, juuust like this.” He spoke lowly, reaching up to smack your cheek a few times as he continued to plow into you.

“Yessss, I love it! I-I love it soo much sir!” You whined, cheeks burning from the little smacks he gave you.

“Now, apologize. For being a bad girl all this time.” He spoke lowly, sending you deep strokes right into your sweetspot.

“Mmm, im sorry! Im so-so sorry, sir!” You cried, tears blurring your vision. You were so close. The experience was too intense for you, and you just had to let go.

“Oh my-, I-Im gonna cum.” You whined, voice rippling from his thrusts. You let your head hang back, as loud moans escaped your lips. He was close too, just from looking at you fall apart for him.

He began to kiss your exposed chest, holding you up by your back as he rutted into you. “Cum on daddy’s dick. Go ahead, babygirl.” He moaned, watching your eyes roll back. Your legs began to twitch around his torso. You finally came undone, letting out an intense cry. His cream coated cock being revealed with each stroke.

“Juuust like that. Keep squeezing me like that!” He spoke breathily, his eyes rolling in pleasure as his thrusts lost their rhythm. With one last stroke, he came deep inside of you with a loud growl. He rolled his hips, ensuring that his seed made it to your empty womb, worrying about the consequences later.

“Fuuuck, babygirl!” He grunted, thrusting into you languidly as droplets from his huge load found their way to ground.

You both let out heavy pants, trying desperately to come down from your highs. Sweaty bodies finding refuge in each-others arms as you held one another close.

“About this being the last time…I lied baby girl.” He whispered in your ear, still pumping into you slowly. You both seemed to be on one accord, finally. Because you weren’t letting him go, no matter what.

“So did I…”

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee @sweethoneycn

[tremendously-crazy]

Ranting about ACD Johnlock because these Victorian husbands need to be happy for me

What the hell happened between Holmes and Watson in 1902 and 1903?

Context: 3GAR is described as happening in July 1902, and ILLU happened in 1902. CREE and BLAN happened in 1903.

In 1902, Holmes and Watson were inseparable.

I don't even need to elaborate when I mention 3GAR. "It was worth a wound" should be enough to remind you of why. I was so touched when I read Holmes seeing his Watson injured and rushing to his side. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. It was amazing to read this seemingly cold, distant, and unemotional man threatening to murder the man who almost killed his best friend. There was loyalty, there was love, and it was beautiful.

According to ILLU, in 1902, they're also frequenting Turkish baths together. (which, I might add, was a common place for homosexual men to gather, do with that knowledge what you may) They're lying side by side on two couches with nothing but a blanket on either of them as they dry off. Watson hears Holmes is injured and nearly passes out, and he rushes to Baker Street to see him as soon as possible. He is terrified at the thought of losing his friend. He gingerly sits at his bedside to ensure that Holmes is okay. These are all very intimate things to do between friends. Indeed, this even suggests the possibility of the two being lovers.

IMAGINE that. These two are inseparable. Clearly, these two stories help to build on the idea that they love each other (platonically or romantically. To me, they seem romantically involved, but even as friends, they do love each other. It's all up to personal preference.) Their relationship is so strong, more than anything we have seen before. These stories showcase their love for each other and how passionate they are for each other.

Now, flash forward to 1903, when CREE and BLAN take place, and we are given an entirely different narrative. Watson describes himself as one of Holmes's "habits" in CREE, saying he felt as though he was an accessory to Holmes. Their relationship is "peculiar," and he is only called over to Baker Street as some kind of tool Holmes can talk to or use on a case. Holmes can rely on Watson, and he is, in a way, taking advantage of his reliability. Throughout the entire story, we can feel the tension between these two (remember how Watson had to stress over his practice in order to join Holmes on the case, and Holmes seemingly did not care at all). It seems partially resolved by the end, but there is still a feeling of bitterness that was fully apparent to me while I was reading it. It seemed like their interactions were angsty and passive-aggressive.

In BLAN, Watson does not even live with Holmes anymore, around a year after 3GAR and ILLU. Holmes explains he has "deserted" him for a wife, which he described as "the most selfish action I can recall in our years of association." Holmes was alone. In the story, Holmes cannot stop talking about how much he misses "his" Watson.

These four stories have such a sharp contrast. They have been absolutely terrorizing my brain a lot as of late. I feel like them being so close in ILLU, and *the* moment in 3GAR are some of their strongest moments together. They are both so terrified to lose each other. How is it that a year later, according to the canon, they are barely on speaking terms? My question is, if we are to trust the canon dates, what happened during those months that caused them to drift apart so terribly? How could Watson leave his Holmes for a wife so recently after these frightening events?

Another point about this supposed second wife. I don't think she even existed. (I do think Mary was really Watson's wife, and I might've reblogged a post about it somewhere) But about the second wife. As far as I'm aware, she's mentioned one (1) time in one (1) story by Holmes, and it was likely just a ploy by ACD to separate them (oh well, I'll just give him a wife. That'll separate them good enough.) It's easily enough ignored for that reason. Watson was, in fact, away from Baker Stret, but the idea of a wife was, in all probability, just made up by Holmes as an excuse for his absence.

I'd like to add my personal headcanon because the continuity in Sherlock Holmes is actually so messed up. John is called James in one story (TWIS, if you want to see for yourself.) October 9, 1890, is called a Saturday when it was really a Thursday (REDH) There's a story set in 1892, when Holmes was supposedly dead... etc, etc. Given the known unreliability of dates in these stories, would it be so unreasonable to suggest that the dates of the four I have talked about were swapped? That, in fact, CREE and BLAN were a falling out in their relationship and that ILLU and 3GAR was their healing? That the former were set in 1902 and the latter, in 1903? I can understand that after knowing someone and living with them for so many years, you may start to take them for granted. But after you narrowly lose them, you would not do such a thing again. (Especially not only a year after such a traumatic experience!!) Therefore, I believe CREE and BLAN were examples of how their relationship was beginning to fail and were actually set in 1902 (or some other date in the latter days of their relationship), and ILLU and 3GAR were reminders of how much they meant to each other, and they happened in 1903 (or, more simply, a year after CREE and BLAN).

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I know this is completely incorrigible and nobody's gonna read it but I just wanted to get it out there.

TL;DR: Late Sherlock Holmes canon sucks. No way that they had both near death experiences in 3GAR and ILLU, and less than a year latery they can barely stand each other in CREE and BLAN. My personal headcanon says CREE and BLAN were moments of stress in their relationship and that 3GAR and ILLU happened afterward to remind them of how much they appreciated each other and help reconcile them.

[mountswhore]

Hey if it's okay then I want to request a pregnancy fic where y/n has been having a hard time dealing with the changes during pregnancy and Mason is helping her out in every way he can. Thank you x

my beautiful girl — mason mount

summary: you were four months along, finally starting to show and yet you were still struggling with the changes you were going through. mason decides to help in any way he can.

After the hell that was the first trimester, you thought you were in the clear. With morning sickness subsiding, you realised it was just making way for more pesky symptoms.

You were four months along now, Mason still elated his beloved child was on the way. As were you, but Mason doesn't need to carry the child for nine months, nor does he need to experience anything you were currently experiencing.

It was still hell on Earth.

Mason's arm slid around your stomach, finally resting below the forming bump. You could practically hear his smile as he pulled you into him, his warm breath coating the revealed skin on your shoulder. Today was the day you were finding out the sex of your baby, and you couldn't wait.

"How did you sleep?" Mason asked quietly, the question was a frequent one, considering you couldn't sleep much over the past three months of pregnancy.

You hummed in response. "It was okay."

Mason was downstairs making you a peppermint tea and himself some breakfast, whilst you took to showering. The hot water felt good, too good, so the shower wasn't long. Unfortunately, Mason's massive bathroom mirror was a curse to you. Even whilst steamed up, you could see yourself and your body.

You tried to be grateful, to be so glad you were able to carry this child, as a lot of women struggle to do so and would kill to be in your position. But your body was changing, and you had terrible self esteem since gaining the stretch marks. You felt so unlike yourself, the feeling mostly being down to how different life had been since becoming pregnant.

The baby wasn't planned, is any child planned? You'd spoken about children in the past with Mason, and you'd both agreed you felt ready for whenever it was going to happen. And a year or so later, here you were.

"Hey." Mason appeared in the bathroom, mug in hand and a concerned look on his face. "What're you thinking about?"

You grabbed the mug and passed him to put it onto your dresser. "Nothing."

Mason knew that was a lie. Instead of saying anything, he sat you down on the bed and crouched between your legs. Still adorned in only a towel, you pulled it over as much skin as you could. Mason knew exactly what this was about, as you'd discussed it at the start of the first trimester. You were crying, you didn't know whether it was good or bad, so Mason calmed you down with making a list. Eventually, you had decided the baby was a good thing, the only cons being about how you'd look and how your body would react to carrying and birthing a child, which you seemed hesitant over.

"You," he spoke, kissing your lips firmly with his hands either side of your head, "are beautiful. I know what's going on in your brain, and I'm telling you it's okay to feel that way. Everyone struggles with their body, but you need to remember you're doing something amazing. You're carrying our child, you're making sure she grows like she should and you're looking after her until she's ready for us."

"She?" You giggled, tears sliding down your face.

"I'm hoping for a girl," he responded, "but anyway, you look amazing. You're doing amazing. I know I'd struggle doing what you're doing, but I'm so thankful every day I wake up and see that bump. It will all be worth it when the baby is born."

He was right, you knew he was. All you needed was that reassurance that you haven't lost your life to pregnancy. You're still the same person before, but you're growing a baby, too.

"You will always be my beautiful girl, nothing and nobody will ever compare to you." Mason spoke, his voice quiet as he held your gaze. You smiled, grateful for the kind words he'd said.

"Let's find out what we're having then," you breathed out, standing from your position on the bed and strolling towards your closet. "I hope it's a girl, too." You admitted, peering from around the door at Mason.

His cheeks turned pink, reaching out to stroke your arm before he left you to dress.

You were sat in the waiting room, surrounded by mothers to be. All at different stages in their pregnancy. You were grateful to have Mason come with you today, his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. He was scrolling on his phone, and you occasionally looked down to see what he was laughing at, but for the most pat you were looking around and hoping the doctor would call your name.

Finally, you thought, as you'd heard your name and stood up with Mason's support.

The appointment was a blur, it was mainly just telling the doctor how you were coming along and you were in your head for most of it, Mason taking control of the social side of today.

You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts once the cold gel had hit your stomach, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Mason chuckled and squeezed your hand, and you couldn't help but return the smile. He was so excited, he'd been looking forward to this for so long.

"Did you want to find out the sex today? Or were you wanting it to be sent to a member of family?" The doctor questioned, and you looked at Mason. Neither of you wanted a gender reveal, it wasn't appealing to you at all. You just wanted to know, so you could tell family the good news.

"We just want to find out today, if that's okay." You answered.

The doctor rotated the screen so both you and Mason could see. It was just a blur to the both of you, you had no clue what you were looking at.

"So," the doctor pointed at certain parts of the screen, "it's a very healthy baby girl."

Mason cheered, kissing your cheek and thanking the doctor for the confirmation. You were both ecstatic to be having the baby girl you'd hoped for. You were mainly glad for the healthy part, you weren't as biased as Mason was. You felt like you were doing something right, your body was handling it well, and in the end it felt worth it. It wasn't long until you'd be holding that healthy baby girl in your arms, and even if it was long, painful hours or labour, it would all be worth it.

[getodrools]

okay we had priest nanami.. but what about priest higuruma? i feel like he fits it too 🤭🤭

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ YUMM ! nonnieee my head is FULL and i might explode ! he definitely fits this role so well – his ominous aura just gives me the creeps ! ! alsooo, this is gonna be in the same universe with priest nanami — i couldn't help myself ! they'd work sooo well together D;

+ here is that priest nanami fic – that's about the same concept if you enjoyed this one ! <3

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. church au. sacrilege. blasphemy. public sex/church sex (confessional box). religion talk. manipulation. cervix fucking (cause quite guys have big —-!). subtle (m) masturbation if you wink. dacryphilia. use of father. glory hole. oral sex (m). spit as lube. cum shot. | WC –> est 1.3k+

he knew what you did.

hiromi wasn't around as much. not from what you could see. you knew they both worked together, but never more…

he'd sulk with deep eyes, pupils wide and dilated behind hooded robes – his nose would peak out from the shaggy cloth like one with a medieval beak when he'd watch at the corner… unlike father nanami’s robes; heavenly and bright with hints of baby blue beneath, gold accents to hang, and the dusty blonde hair pulled it together too.

hiromi was the contrary.

he'd allow himself to be swallowed up by the dark corners in the church, and still. stiff with no movement, he'd watch. keep himself hidden almost as if he's locked in the confessional box with no say... hiromi was another priest, everyone knew of him, but ignored him – or acknowledge him as much as father nanami. nothing close to the praise he gets, even though everyone goes to him daily… you'd assume because he knew the darkest secrets your friends have, or all the lies they've told and they'd rather not speak upon it again, holding a slight worry towards a faded man that knows of every unknown.

people around town only heard him speak once or twice. they did all the talking, of course, he was one you could confess to. you never heard him speak. maybe a hum before but you couldn't even tell that was him either. he'd carry a small bible and a fist full of rosemaries.

they'd jingle when he sauntered.

“father, hiromi… i only come to you… because i have a confession…” that day was overwhelming.

it felt right – it felt amazing! you felt your whole body through and through, exploring it with the holy father of this church. you never felt closer to god, but it felt like the wrong way to take such a comfortable seat.

“y/n…” you had a voice he's heard echo down these halls and it was ringing. louder than the church bells itself, but his… it was dauntingly deep tearing. a deep rasp that made you flinch even with a thick wall between you both.

“i remember. once… three years ago you confessed to lying about the bible you stole.”

your bottom lip catches between clattering teeth. you still feel terrible to this day.

you never visited the conffensianl box often. the last time was intimidating, as if you knew you deserved that unnerving treatment for what you caused… even walking by it licked goosebumps up your spine, sometimes catching his eyes between the peeking wood; the whites of them becoming fuller as they'd follow every move…

“yes, you are right. but i was forgiven.” your thighs shift awkwardly.

“…”

silence and a small tap of the rosemaries moving was all you could hear. the heavy air pressuring at your lungs he created in such a small space was forcing words to spill out – easily, “i confess that i have sinned… and i repent from my… sexual sin, and i beg for your forgiveness.” you stumble quickly over that keyword.

god already knows of the details. so sparring yourself with a quick confession was your route.

“…”

“i want to obey your ways lord, and i want to honor you with my chaste… please..?”

your begging was cute.

“you've been fucked in the cunt before marriage. no man would want you now.” his vulgar spew made you gasp, eyes wide but heart sinking at the truth, “honor your words and show the lord you speak nothing but the truth.” hiromi’s voice dropped an octave rolling with a hard hiss as a small hole etching through panels filled with light that peers from father hiromi’s side.

you honored the sacred father through and through. the whole town knew too, the priests, of course, and sisters knowing your name so much you wanted to become one yourself… honoring the holy spirits angels in the church felt just as good and the priests only wanted your love for god no matter and always beside to direct you. you took nanami’s words once and he guided you, and another priest as close to him – you'd take that chance again to touch the clouds of heaven.

like it was destined.

like it was planned.

too stupid to notice anyway – and too trapped in this lope of always wanting to be forgiven…

. . .

the priest behind the wall dragged a middle knuckle up the slit of your pussy.

your eyes clench.

squeezing ever so tight, fine lines wrinkled into your features. it was cold as he slipped between the seeping pool of wet slick… your ass was pressed plush against the mahogany wood, nothing but fat folds pucker out the small hole as your hands held dear to the chair ahead, waiting.

he takes two digits and wrecked your sodden hole; spreading you wide with a quick scissoring – his middle finger dipping between with ease. with haste. no need to hear the small squeaks you babble out… the priest hooked in deep, cramming the hilt into you. hooking at your softest spots before popping his finger out; short-lived, a stringing trail of glistening still webbed between his digits.

he dammned, ‘flthy...’

the meat of his cock was freed sometime, or had it been jostled with earlier; edging to the wreck you cried out in, hearing your not-so-secrets spill out on the other side stiffen him up…

hiromi pressed the bulbous crown eagerly against your puffy folds. and with a sharp application of pressure, he squished the wetness of your chaste down; treating it to a haze of heat that left you gasping. your sodden silt wept in a vigorous stretch, full pentration and a wad of spit to your little hole made room for the invasive fill.

hiromi groaned at the tightness of your walls hugging him, and the warmth of your cunt sucking him in made the man instinctively hammer strong hips forward; deep, languid strokes left your cunt rippling and stretching – sensitive walls swelling in blossoming bruises, feeling hiromi barrel himself between the sweet heat of your legs in all focus to hurry and empty his balls…

your nothing but a church girl.

-- the church's girl.

your fingers uselessly clench down on whatever was in reach to fight off the awkward strain of hiromi ramming into your sopping depths. it was all over again, heavinly bliss jackharrming you out – just how father nanami stretched and fucked you over the stages pulpit, now bent in front of the hole in a confessional box with his holy brother…

all inches of tan, thick cockmeat stuffed you over the hilt. stiff pole pressing in deep until the leaking crown prodded at your cervix – your jaw tightening around prayers… webbing around his cockhead, he rammed himself into your perk cervix ‘till it hardened in bruises as your ass bounced against the wall and tight cunt fluttering full of cockmeat that stretched everything at once mercilessly.

hiromi‘s balls cradle up, tightening at your onslaught. the priest's cock throbbed, and burbled with cum.

“on your knees.”

it was quick, the empty gape clenched around nothing in need and you couldn't help but whine. twisting fast at his command – to fill another hole, your mouth instinctively aah’s in welcome.

wrapped in shadow only with arms delving out from the darkness gripped you close…

you never caught his face much when you visited, but you knew of the deep clover eyes above heavy bags and sunken skin were beneath his robes. but now you can only imagine how deep settled his features laid – possibly brows furrowed, his nose scrunching, eyes widening… but only his sacred dick flashed around your face…

he could see all of you and your pitiful shame. the small peaks he created over the years helped him watch your pretty eyes ogling upwards; and the carved wood you caught displayed mother mary herself.

nowhere's to blink.

you flinch.

at the time the embarrassment was immense, you could have hidden as a child may have – the vulnerability at mark to your naked frame crawled with a cold shiver; a rise of goosebumps layering cross naked flesh, face even running cold with sunken gape.

hiromi guided you – and your weeping mouth closer to the sleazy hole in his confession box. the small room with thin walls began to feel more squeezed in than usual – his towering body filling half the space on his side began to crowd yours… it was a nimble carved gap; only enough for a single pair of hands wrapped in the chains of roses with mary herself dangling off the side to crawl up your throat. father hiromi gave the supple skin a squeeze before tugging at your scalp.

your mouth panted out a wet ‘o’ in return.

“accept the lords offering.” the priest dipped his tip back into your mouth, “and the lord will forgive you.” old mahogany wood almost splinters at your forhead. the raw slip of his cock filled your throat and made you bubble with spit – words even foaming into webbed slick. it began to squelch when you tried to pray, speaking around a block full of dick meat was messy, and incoherent… but the soft hum vibrating around the thick of his bulbous cap was close enough. he could hear the rhythm of your prayers droning a longing chant and it was beautiful. the puffing of your cheeks before retching and spit stringing from tip to puffy lips was glorious...

you harmonize prayers around him – some syllables dropping or skipping words entirely, but no faster than the bubbling tears welting down your cheeks. your face was left ridden and stained, and the father was twitching as tears began mixing with sappy drool.

he could almost taste the shame thickening in the air.

hiromi was face fucking the truth out of you; the crown of his cock shoveling out spews of confessions each time his hips rocked out, only to crowd that small space again to the hilt… seeking and discovering secrets.

your eyes twitched and rolled back.

it didn't take much.

he kept himself in there for years.

the priest's thumb swipes at your tears, soothing at the burning skin but he wasn't here for empathy; this is a confession box, he curses and pinches at the taut flesh until you opened wider.

your tongue straddles his capped tip. tasting a tangy salt and fresh cum pooling at the soft ‘bowl’ you keep open for him. hiromi twitches and jerks the rest of himself out; a spunk of batter thickly ropes out onto your buds.

you look up, eyes watering with a banter – the carving of the holy figure looked back down at you...

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