#AND I JUST HAVE TO KEEP IT ALL LOCKED UP INSIDE ME THERE IS NO OTHER OPTION NO FUCING OPTIONS NO CHOICES NOTHING | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

insidekatmind · 6 hours ago

Text

Model~Alejandro Balde

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The music was loud, the lights dazzling, and the stage was dominated by a runway that seemed endless. You, one of Victoria's Secret models, moved with elegance and confidence, wearing lingerie that highlighted every step you took along with the iconic Victoria's Secret wings. You knew all eyes were on you, but there was one gaze you could feel without even looking.

In the front row, surrounded by celebrities and honored guests, sat Alejandro Balde, your ex. Next to him were Lamine Yamal, Hector Fort, and Robert Lewandowski, all chatting and commenting on the show. But Alejandro... he couldn’t take his eyes off you. When you stepped onto the runway, you saw him smile—a smile caught between excitement and admiration. His gaze followed you, and for a moment, it seemed like he forgot he was surrounded by people.

“Wow… did you see Y/N?” he whispered to Yamal, who chuckled. “she so hot" Alejandro continues to mutter.

“Bro, you’re drooling,” joked Hector Fort, nudging him with an elbow.

You continued walking, maintaining your professional expression, but inside you felt electrified. You knew Alejandro was watching you. He had always told you that your walk was hypnotic, and now it was clear his opinion hadn’t changed. Every step you took felt like a silent message, a reminder of what you had once shared.

When your turn ended and you left the runway, the crowd erupted in applause for you.

As the applause continued to echo in the hall, you finally stepped off the runway and made your way to the dressing room. The moment you closed the door behind you, the chaotic scene transformed into a space of tranquility.

You stood in front of the mirror, your hair slightly disheveled from the performance. As you began to fix it, the silk of your dressing gown glided across your skin, creating a delicate contrast against your elegant lingerie.

You took a deep breath, allowing yourself a moment to gather your thoughts and regain your composure. But there was a knock at your door...

You turned your gaze towards the door, slightly taken aback by the unexpected noise. "Come in," you called out, your voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

The doorknob turned, and the door opened to reveal Alejandro standing there. His presence filled the room, his gaze locking onto you. He closed the door behind him, the sound of the latch echoing in the quiet space.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments. The air between you was charged with tension and unspoken words.

"What are you doing here?" you ask looking at him.

Alejandro met your gaze, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his eyes. "I had to see you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I couldn’t watch you walk that runway and not come back here."

He took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you. The atmosphere in the room grew even more intense, the air heavy with the weight of your shared history.

You try not to fall into his beautiful eyes, like you always have. Alejandro could see the effort you were making to keep your guard up. He knew you still felt the same as he did, but he also guessed you were holding back just as much as he was.

He took another step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached towards you, as if to touch your face, but he withdrew it before making contact.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of pleading and understanding. "Don't act like you don't feel this too."

"What are you talking about?" you play dumb. Alejandro sighed, a slight hint of frustration evident in his expression. He was used to playing games, but not with you.

"Don't do this," he said, his tone firm but measured. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The connection between us is still there, whether you want to admit it or not."

He took another step forward, now standing so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. "Just look at me and tell me you don’t feel it. Try."

You bite your lip knowing you couldn't lie.Alejandro watched you bite your lip, a habit he was all too familiar with. He knew that small gesture was a sign that you were struggling to keep your emotions in check.

"You can't lie to me," he whispered, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "Your body betrays you. Your mind may be trying to resist, but your actions give it away."

He took another step closer, now standing so close that you could faintly feel the heat emanate off of him. "Admit it, Y/N."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Alejandro leaned in even closer, his body almost but not quite touching yours.

"Stop fighting it," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Just let yourself feel what you want to feel. What we both know is true."

He reached out again, this time his hand gently cupping your chin, gently raising your gaze to meet his.

His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you were giving in. His thumb gently traced the contour of your jaw, his touch creating tingles on your skin.

"Please, Y/N," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. "Just give in." He was begging now, wanting you to surrender to the attraction that still hung in the air between you.

Your mind was screaming at you to resist, to maintain your emotional distance. But your body, your very being, was responding to his presence in ways you couldn't control.

Alejandro's gaze was intense, his touch sending waves of heat through your body. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the wall you had so carefully built up was starting to crack.

His hand moved from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer so that your bodies were now brushing against each other. The space between you was almost nonexistent, the electricity between you crackling like an impending storm.

His gaze bore into yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice heavy with longing. "We can pretend all we want, but this," he paused, his hand tightening its grip on your waist. "this connection between us is undeniable."

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and tantalizing.You looked at his lips and for you it was like a reminder of everything you've been through.

Alejandro observed your eyes lingering on his lips, realizing that you were reliving all the memories shared between you. He knew you were grappling with the same whirlwind of emotions that was spinning through his own mind.

He ran his thumb gently over your lower lip, almost tracing its contours. "Memories don't fade," he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and longing. "They linger, and we both know that what we had was real."

Your heart ached as his thumb moved across your lip. Those memories, those moments that you shared together, they were etched into your soul, impossible to ignore.

Alejandro continued, his voice even softer than before. "I can't deny that I still want you, Y/N. The past doesn't just disappear, no matter how much we wish it could."

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching your ear. "And deep down, I know you still want me too."Your heart ached as his thumb moved across your lip. Those memories, those moments that you shared together, they were etched into your soul, impossible to ignore.

Alejandro continued, his voice even softer than before. "I can't deny that I still want you, Y/N. The past doesn't just disappear, no matter how much we wish it could."

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching your ear. "And deep down, I know you still want me too."

Your eyes shut as Alejandro whispered into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. You knew that your breakup wasn't just about protecting your heart; it was also about protecting him from the intensity of your feelings.

But now, with him so close, with his touch against your skin, you couldn't help but want him, despite the fear of heartache that still lingered in the back of your mind.

His hand continued to rest on your waist, his grip just tight enough to pull you in closer. "Look at me," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and it was like looking into the storm in his eyes. There was a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and determination.

His body was pressed against yours, the closeness making it impossible to ignore the raw chemistry that still existed between you.

"Just admit it, Y/N," he said once more, his voice laced with both pleading and insistence. "Admit that you still want me too."

You lick your lips "I want you" you murmur.

Your whisper was barely audible, but the effect it had on Alejandro was instantaneous. His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of relief and hunger in them. He heard the truth in your words, the honesty that you couldn't fully hold back.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Louder this time."

"I want you," you repeated, your voice a bit louder now. The words felt like a release, escaping from your lips with a mixture of longing and hesitation.

As you spoke, Alejandro's hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

He looked down at you, his eyes dark with a mix of raw desire and an almost primal need. His voice was low, filled with a hint of ragged breath. "That's what I wanted to hear."

He cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs gently tracing the edges of your jawline. "I've missed you," he muttered, his gaze intently fixed on yours.

The confession sent a pang through your heart. You had missed him too, more than you wanted to admit. But still, there was doubt lingering in the back of your mind. You couldn't shake the fear of being hurt again.

Alejandro must have sensed your hesitation because he leaned in, placing his forehead against yours. "Please," he whispered, his voice heavy with pleading. "Don't deny us this."You knew he was right, you were hurting yourself by separating from him. You hug him, leaning against him.

As you embraced him, your body pressing into his, Alejandro's arms encircled you completely, as if he was afraid to let go. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and relishing the feeling of you against him.

His grip tightened slightly, almost as if he was afraid you'd pull away from him again. "Don't leave," he murmured against your hair. "Please, don't leave me again."

“I promise,” you whisper and kiss him softly. Your declaration, a gentle whisper filled with promise, washed over him like a wave of relief. It was a promise he hoped to hold onto tight. As your lips touched his in a soft kiss, Alejandro's arms tightened around you further, pulling you impossibly closer. He returned the kiss, the touch of your lips on his own making his heart race like it had never raced before. He savored the kiss, his tongue gently coaxing yours, as if to remind himself that this moment was real, that you were really there, that he wasn’t dreaming, that you weren’t going anywhere anymore.

After what felt like an eternity, the kiss ended, but neither of you moved away. Your bodies were still closely pressed together, the silence in the room filled with the sound of your quiet breaths.

Alejandro pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, to really look at you. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he was trying to memorize every detail, every curve. His fingers gently caressed your cheeks, and his voice was low when he spoke. “I’m not letting you go this time."

The determination in his voice was undeniable, as was the desire in his eyes. He looked at you as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever held, and you knew that he was serious.

"Not again," he continued, his fingers tracing the line of your neck. "We belong together, Y/N. We always have, and we always will."

As he spoke, he leaned in, his lips gently brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. The touch was light, but the heat of it sent shivers down your spine. He continued to trail soft kisses along your neck, his hands sliding down your waist to the curve of your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

The room seemed smaller now, the world outside fading into insignificance as his lips moved against your skin. His body was hard against yours, the evidence of his desire pressing into you. He inhaled deeply, as if trying to pull your scent into his very being.One of his hands moved from your hip, slowly sliding under the material of your robe to the bare skin of your back. The touch was almost reverent, as if he was tracing a sacred line across your body. His fingertips traced gentle, invisible patterns on your skin, causing goosebumps to appear in their wake.

The room was silent, the world outside completely forgotten as Alejandro's touch continued to explore your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency. He was trying to commit you to memory, his lips kissing every part of you they could reach while his hands seemed to learn you anew.

Alejandro gently took off your coat leaving you only in your underwear. As the robe pooled at your feet, Alejandro’s eyes took in the sight of you in your lingerie. He breathed in sharply, his gaze roving over every curve and contour. His touch was gentle, a soft caress down your sides, as if he was afraid he might shatter you.

“You're even more beautiful than I remember,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained from the effort of holding himself back.

He pulled you back into his arms, his skin against yours, creating a delicious friction. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you tight against him, leaving no space between you. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the way your hips fit perfectly against his own.

You make little sweet sighs when Alejandro plays with your underwear taking it off.The little sounds you make as he slowly peels away the fabric of your underwear drive him crazy, each soft sigh adding fuel to the fire that's already raging inside him. He takes his time, his movements almost agonizingly slow, as if he's savoring every moment.

“You’re driving me insane,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire. He continues to caress your skin, his fingers feather-light on your hipbones.

As he gently guides you onto the makeup desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat between you, he looks down at you. Your eyes are wide, your breath coming in shallow pants as you anticipate his next move.

Alejandro stands between your legs, his hands on your thighs, his gaze fixed on yours. He leans in, his body towering over you, and whispers, “Just lay back and relax.”

Alejandro lowers his head and licks a stripe in your folds.You let out a shudder as his tongue makes contact with your folds, leaving behind a trail of heat that courses all the way up your spine. Your hand unconsciously clenches the edge of the table, your body instinctively arching towards him.

He smiles at your reaction, his gaze flicking up to yours. "You're so responsive," he murmurs, his breath hot on your sensitive skin.

Then, his head dips back down and he starts to feast. His tongue works you slowly, methodically, alternating between broad, flat strokes and flicks that make you moan. Every movement is calculated, designed to drive you wild. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he's enjoying every second of it. You can feel how much he wants you, how much he needs you. He sucks and licks and nips, his hands moving to your thighs to push your legs even wider apart, giving him better access. You’re starting to writhe on the table, your hands gripping whatever they can find to hold onto.

“You taste so good,” he whispers, his voice rough and full of need. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He keeps going, his tongue working you like it knows exactly what you need. Every touch of his sends waves of pleasure through your body

Alejandro licks harder and sucks your pussy like a man who hasn't eaten in days. You pull his hair. "Ale" you moan.His name is a moan that escapes your lips, a desperate plea for more. He looks up from between your legs, his eyes dark and intense. The sight of you, coming apart under his touch, only makes him want you more.

“You keep saying my name like that,” he grunts, his voice thick with desire. “It's driving me crazy.”

He dives back in, his tongue picking up the pace, harder and faster, as if he can’t get enough. His hands are on your legs, holding you steady.You moan feeling his tongue so skilled that it gave you pleasure. "Fuck so good" you whimper with pleasure.

Your words spur him on, his own desire burning inside him like a wildfire. He loves having you at his mercy, loves seeing you dissolve under his touch.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and huskier than ever before. "Just let go. Let me hear you."

He knows exactly how to bring you to the brink, how to keep you there right on the precipice of ecstasy and agony. Every movement of his tongue is calculated to drive you wild, every touch sending little sparks of pleasure through your body.

Your hips start to move involuntarily, meeting his mouth with each movement. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips close to your skin.

“You look so beautiful like this. Falling apart under my tongue.”

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body taut like a bowstring, the pleasure building and building. His hands on your thighs only served to anchor you to reality, to keep you from completely spiralling out of control.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his hot breath on your skin.

“I want to see you lose control.”The words are barely out of his mouth before he returns to you, his tongue working you with even more fervor than before. He’s relentless, focused on bringing you to your peak with a single-minded determination. You’re so close now, teetering on the edge, and he won’t let up until he gets what he wants.

Your body can’t take much more, every touch sending you closer and closer to the precipice. Your fingers grip his hair, holding onto him like a lifeline, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you completely.

“Please,” you gasp, “Please, Alejandro, I can’t… I can’t take any more…“

He responds with a satisfied hum, his lips against your skin. “Yes, you can,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Just a little further. Let go. I’ve got you."

At his words, your body finally gives in, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cry out, a hoarse moan that seems to echo through the room. Your body trembles, your muscles clenching as the orgasm washes over you. And throughout it all, his lips remain on you, slowing down just enough to bring you down from your high.

When you finally come back to reality, you look down to see him watching you with a satisfied smile.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with desire. “I could watch you do that for hours.”

He looks as wild as you feel, his hair tousled from your hands, his lips slick and shiny. But there’s a fire in his eyes that tells you he’s far from done with you yet.

He moves up your body, bracing his forearms on either side of you, effectively trapping you between his strong arms. As he lifts himself above you, his gaze is still fixed on you, his expression one of pure hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his voice low and rough as his hips come to rest between your legs.

Your body is still coming down from the high, your skin sensitive to every touch. But you can feel him there, hard and eager against you. His gaze bores into you, his desire for you clear and unguarded. You can see the way he fights to hold himself back, to take this slow even though everything in him just wants to take you right now.

“I tried to be patient, to give you space,” he mutters, his lips against your throat. “But I can’t wait anymore. I need you too damn much.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, his need for you as palpable as his touch. You can feel his restraint slipping, his body tense as he holds himself back.

He moves closer, his chest pressed against yours, his breath hot in your ear. “I was going crazy without you,” he admits, one of his hands moving to your hip. “Thinking about you every day, wanting you every night…”

You gently caress his face. Your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his face cause his eyes to flutter closed for a moment. He leans into your touch, his body almost melting against you.

The simple act seems to release some of the tension in him, like he’s been waiting for this contact for days. He lets out a low sigh, his breath warm against your skin.“That feels good,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Your hands on my skin..."

He moves a little, his body settling more heavily on yours, his weight pressing you down into the cool surface of the desk. You can feel every hard muscle, every line of his body, and it makes you want to pull him even closer, to hold him as close as humanly possible.

His head dips down, his lips seeking out the sensitive spot just below your ear. He places a gentle kiss there, his tongue tracing a delicate line down your neck.

“No one touches me like you do,” he mutters, his lips against your skin. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

His words send a jolt through you, a reminder of the power you have over him, how much he needs this, needs you. The realization makes your heart clench, desire heating up inside you even more.

"No one" you confirm softly.He lifts his head then, looking down at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“No one,” he repeats, his eyes roaming over your face. “Not since the day I met you. You’ve ruined me.”As if to emphasize his point, he presses his hips more firmly against yours, the hard length of him rubbing against you.

You moan as you feel his hardness rubbing against your exposed pussy "Ale" you moan.Your moans are like fuel on the fire, sending his desire spiraling even higher. He groans, his fingers gripping your hips tighter as he rocks against you.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Hearing you like this, feeling you like this… It’s too much.”

"get naked, I want you inside me now" you moan wetting his pants with your excitement.The sound of your words, the needy tone of your voice, almost snaps the last bit of his self-restraint.

“Anything you want, baby,” he whispers, his lips against your ear. “Just… give me a second.”

He pulls back reluctantly, his grip on your hips loosening. He stands between your legs, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt.

Alejandro quickly undresses and enters you making you moan "fuck so good" you murmur.

The moment he’s inside you, it feels like something falls into place, the missing piece of a puzzle.

"Oh, god," he groans, his head dropping forward, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel so good."

He starts to move then, the slow, even pace setting a rhythm that’s driving you both wild. The only sound in the room is the smack of his skin against yours, the little gasps and moans escaping your lips as you cling to each other. His hands are on you, roaming over your body, touching every piece of you he can reach.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he mutters, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Dreamed about you, wanted you so bad…“

He’s losing control more with every passing second, his hips moving faster against you, his breaths coming shorter and shorter.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he murmurs, the words torn from him like a confession. “I… I don’t think I can last much longer…”

"me too Baby, I'm coming again" you moan taking his face and kissing him.Your words and the feel of your lips on his send him over the edge.

“Come with me…” he husks, his fingers tangling in your hair. “I need you to come with me…”

He kisses you then, fiercely, as if he need to taste you and feel you to survive. His body moves faster, harder, each stroke bringing you both closer to the brink of ecstasy.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his lips against your ear. “Just let go. Just let go for me…”

Your legs are shaking and you come moaning his name. Your body tenses as the orgasm washes over you, your breath catching in your throat as you cry out his name. The sound of it on your lips does something to him, pushes him over the edge.

“Oh, god…“ he groans, burying his face in your neck. “You… you make me…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, his words dissolving into a soft curse as he follows you over the edge, his body trembling

You stay like that for a moment, wrapped around each other as you both try to catch your breath. The room is quiet, the only sound your uneven breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

He’s still braced above you, his body pressed against yours, his arms shaking slightly from the effort of holding himself up. He’s nuzzling your neck, his lips placing gentle kisses wherever they can reach.

You sigh contentedly and stroke his hair "I missed you" He hums in satisfaction, his body relaxing into your touch. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” he mutters, his lips still against your skin.

He lifts his head a bit then, just enough to look at you. His eyes are half-lidded, his expression a mix of contentment and satisfaction.

“I’ve been going crazy without you,” he admits quietly. “Every day felt like an eternity.”

"Nothing and no one will separate us Ale" you whisper.His arms tighten around you at your words, a shudder running through his body like he’s been hit by an electric current.

“Promise me,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me that, no matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

"I promise baby".He lets out a shaky breath, his body visibly relaxing at your promise.

“Good,” he mutters, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back. “Because I couldn’t bear to lose you again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

He’s silent for a moment, just holding you close, his heart beating steadily against your cheek. But then he lets out a soft sigh, as if some lingering worry has been lifted off his shoulders.

“I know it’s going to be hard,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “But we’ll make it work. I’m not letting you go, not ever again.”

107 notes · View notes

amphibiahawks321 · 19 hours ago

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Fem alastor x angle reader that was her husband when she was alive

Charlie : I've never seen Alastor... This quiet before...

[Husk sipping his drink]

Husk : She just found out her husband is gonna visit the hotel, she's an absolute pain in the ass but I can't blame her....

[Cut to Alastor that seems to be pacing slowly in the lounge, her with a grin that seems to have a hint of.... Nervousness]

Charlie : why doesn't she seem excited, she always talks about how Y/N was such a loving person!

[Husk shrugs, muttering under his breath]

Husk : Guess even the Radio Demon has her soft spots, Who knew....–

[The door suddenly creaks open, an angelic figure steps in, his presence immediately draws attention as he is astonished by the hotel's decor]

[Charlie immediately walks up to Y/N and starts shaking his hand viciously]

Charlie : You must be Y/N! It's an absolute pleasure meeting you!

AngelM!Reader : Chuckles.... The pleasures all mine!

Angel : Well, well, would ya look at that! Heaven’s finest just walked in

[The staf gathers in the lobby as you step inside, Y/N's white wings shimmer faintly, and your kind smile instantly fills the space, Nifty walks around Y/N excitedly]

Nifty : How do you keep this thing so SOFT!?

Angel : Careful Nifty, you’re gonna scare the guy off with all that energy

AngelM!Reader : Chuckles... Aww, thanks for the warm welcome you all! i—......

[Y/N went silence mid sentence as he locks eyes with Alastor near the corner, Y/N Excuse himself from the staf as he walks up to Alastor]

AngelM!Reader : Hey, dear...

[Alastor freezes when she hears Y/N talks, For a moment her usual facade falters almost completely]

AngelM!Reader : Still causing chaos huh?

Fem!Alastor : Chaos? Me? Oh dearest, you know I'm as harmless as a lamb

[Y/N let out a short chuckle, stepping closer as his voice now being calm]

AngelM!Reader : Harmless? Say that to our neighbor who always has to see you bring your cooking experiments to barbecue parties

Fem!Alastor : HA! Excuse me, those were culinary masterpieces, They were the ones who couldn't handle my creativity

[Alastor stepping closer to Y/N with her usual grin but now..... with a genuine grin]

AngelM!Reader : Chuckles... Creativity? You're "creativity" nearly burned down our kitchen y'know

[The rest watches in stunned silence seeing both of them Sharing some laughs, as they see the radio demon seems almost... Soft]

Fem!Alastor : ....I didn't think you'd actually come...

AngelM!Reader : Me too... But... I couldn't stay away too long from you... I know I'm probably not of much importance to you anymore especially in this place.... but–

Fem!Alastor : No....

AngelM!Reader : ......

Fem!Alastor : I missed your presence.... I didn't even think you would wanna even consider my existence the moment you enter up there

AngelM!Reader : Even in heaven, my thoughts were full on how you are doing down here....

Fem!Alastor : I've changed too much, you know.... I'm not the woman you married the moment on earth when you saw my heinous secret... The face of despaired, betrayed and disgusted you made can make any sinners feel guilty....

[Y/N stepping closer, gently taking her hand despite the claws she now bears]

AngelM!Reader : And Yet I still see the same woman who danced with me under the stars and laughed like the world didn’t matter...

Fem!Alastor : you certainly haven’t changed much, Still as irritatingly radiant as ever....

[For a moment, the room is silent as the two gaze at each other, Then Alastor’s composure cracks, she places her staff against a chair and walks close to Y/N, wrap her arms around Y/N in a tight embrace, The staf gasps in unison, shocked seeing the composed Radio Demon showing such emotion]

Fem!Alastor : You really are an angel, aren't you? My angel... Maybe.... one day....–

[Y/N wraps his wings around Alastor as he returned the hug tightly with a bit of tears Rolling down his cheek]

AngelM!Reader : Ssssshh... I know... I know you barely have hopes of it actually happening but... Knowing you have just the slightest tiny specks of hope is already making me feel warm...

[The staf exchanges glances, some smiling, others looking away to give you both a moment of privacy, Charlie obviously is clapping her hands together viciously]

Charlie : that is so sweet! I knew there was a sweet side to her!

Angel : Come on, Al! You’ve been talking about this guy forever, Say something cute! like ‘Oh, my darling, I waited so long for you!’ or some crap like that!—

[Angel suddenly stops as he notices Alastor staring at him directly in the eyes, Angel’s smug grin falters as he notices the change in her demeanor completely, her eyes gleaming dark red]

[within seconds Y/N immediately saw the shift in her mood and in an instant starts petting her hair repeatedly, calming her down from basically Killing angel on the spot]

#male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #reader x hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #reader x alastor #fem alastor #female alastor

106 notes · View notes

et7432 · 2 days ago

Text

Not Without Permission

(Klaus Mikaelson)

(Klaus Mikaelson x Reader)

Summary: Elena and Damon leave (Y/N) behind at the last untouched safehouse in Mystic Falls, the one place where the Originals can't just waltz in. It's a temporary peace, and they need her to stay put while they go after an ancient artifact that could change everything. Before they go, they make it crystal clear—no one gets inside, no matter what. The stakes are too high. But when a familiar, dangerous face shows up at the door—Klaus Mikaelson himself—(Y/N)’s calm is about to be tested. Charming, persuasive, and never without a few tricks up his sleeve, Klaus doesn’t take no for an answer. Will she keep the door locked, or will the deadly allure of the Original hybrid be enough to crack her resolve?

I pouted quietly, as I watched Damon and Elena leaving without me. It was my way of masking the yearning for adventure that I couldn't join in on.

"Listen carefully. Your house is the only place in town that the Originals cannot enter. No one can enter without an invitation, no exceptions - not even if someone is bleeding on your doorstep," Damon warns.

"I understand, Damon. Safe haven, magical barrier, invite-only."

Elena struggled with another duffel bag and hauled it to Damon's car trunk.

"It's true, (y/n). We can't risk it."

"Then let me come with you." I walked down the porch steps. "I've been researching those artifacts for weeks. I could be of assistance-"

"No." Elena slammed the trunk. "You need to stay here where it's safe. Plus, don't you have that history report about the 1920s due?"

"Seriously? You're using homework as an excuse while you're out hunting for ancient magical objects?"

"I'd rather do homework than hunt for ancient magical objects that could get you killed," Damon called out as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Elena gave me a quick hug. "We'll be back before you know it."

I watched them get inside the car, frustration boiling within me. The engine roared to life, and Damon rolled down his window.

"Remember - don't open the door for anyone!" His voice carried across the lawn.

"Of course, dad!" I replied sarcastically, putting all my teenage angst into those three words.

The car disappeared down the street, leaving me alone on my supposedly safe front lawn, feeling like a useless researcher stuck in some supernatural time-out.

The desk lamp cast a harsh glow across my laptop screen. The cursor blinked against the white document - mocking me with its steady rhythm. Only my name and the date stared back: "(y/n) Matthews, October 15th."

The cicadas droned outside my window, their endless chirping a symphony of late-night procrastination. I drummed my fingers against the desk, scrolling through my research notes for the thousandth time. Prohibition. Speakeasies. The Jazz Age. My brain refused to string two coherent sentences together about any of it.

I glanced at my phone. 9:47 PM. No messages from Elena or Damon.

"The 1920s represented a period of..." I typed, then deleted it. Too generic.

"In the wake of World War I..." Backspace, backspace, backspace.

The cicadas grew louder, their sound bleeding through my closed window. I pushed back from my desk and paced the room, my sock-covered feet silent against the hardwood floor. My history textbook lay open on the bed, its pages filled with black and white photos of flappers and Model T's.

"This would be so much easier if I could just interview an actual person who lived through it," I muttered, throwing myself back into my desk chair. The leather creaked under my weight. "But no - stay home, (y/n). Do your homework, (y/n). Do the responsible thing, (y/n). Don't get killed by thousand-year-old vampires, (y/n)."

The flashing line on my screen taunted me. I couldn't help imagining what adventures Elena and Damon were having - undoubtedly more exciting than watching an empty screen mock my progress.

I slumped forward, letting my brow make contact with the smooth desktop surface. Overhead, my study light buzzed softly, a constant electrical hum that matched my brain's static.

The peaceful stillness of the night shattered as three sharp knocks echoed through the house. My heart pounded in my chest.

More knocks followed, each one deliberate and measured. I knew it wasn't Damon's impatient pounding or someone in need of help.

I descended the stairs cautiously, avoiding the creaky spots I had memorized long ago. The atrium light cast eerie shadows across the hardwood floor.

"Who is it?" I called out, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.

"Good evening," came a refined voice from beyond the door. "Forgive the late hour, but I'm searching for Elena Gilbert. I was told she might be here."

As soon as I heard his words, the hair on my neck stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine. I immediately recognized that voice.

“Well, she’s not here,” I said firmly, glad my voice didn’t waver. "And even if she was, she wouldn't want to talk to a vampire like you."

The man's chuckle turned into a low growl. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know who you are." I stepped back from the door, though the barrier spell made the distance unnecessary. "And I know you can't come in."

A low chuckle drifted through the wood. "Clever girl. Elena mentioned you. Haven't I seen you before a few times? - the studious one, always with her nose in a book. Tell me, what are you reading these days?"

"Nothing that would interest you." My fingers gripped the banister behind me, steadying my shaking legs.

"On the contrary, I find human persistence fascinating. The way you dig through dusty tomes and piece together fragments of the past..." His voice moved along the porch, closer to the window. "Speaking of the past, I hear you're writing about the 1920s. I could tell you stories that would make your paper absolutely..." A tap against the wooden door. "Riveting."

My throat went dry as I realized the truth - he had been alive during those times. He probably danced in speakeasies and roamed the gas-lit streets. But how did he know about my writing? Was he watching me earlier, lurking and listening to my conversation with Elena and Damon?

"I have no interest in your stories," I said, trying to keep him talking. I knew Elena would want to know that he was back in town, but my phone was upstairs on my desk, out of reach.

"No? Shame. I particularly enjoyed Chicago during Prohibition. The music, the fashion... the absolute lawlessness of it all. Your textbooks couldn't possibly capture the true spirit of the era."

Each word dripped with casual menace, reminding me of every story I'd heard about his victims. The countless lives he'd ended with that same conversational tone.

"Why are you really here?" I forced steel into my voice, channeling Elena's courage.

"Direct. I like that." Another tap, this time back at the door. "Very well. Since Elena's not answering her phone, perhaps you could pass along a message?"

My hand trembled over the doorknob. Every survival instinct screamed to run upstairs, but a deeper part of me knew - if Klaus wanted to deliver a message, he'd find a way. At least the barrier spell would protect me.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Klaus stood on my porch, hands clasped behind his back. The porch light caught the angles of his face, casting shadows that made him look more a statue than man. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Brave little thing, aren't you?" He cocked his head. "Most humans who know what I am wouldn't dare."

I rested on the door frame. "The barrier spell works both ways. You can't get in, and I can't accidentally step out."

"Clever too." He took a single step closer, stopping just short of the invisible line. "Though I must say, opening doors to monsters - even with magical protection - shows questionable judgment."

"You said you had a message." I lifted my chin, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Indeed." His eyes locked onto mine, and I fought the urge to look away. "But now I'm far more intrigued by you. Standing here, trembling yet defiant. Tell me, what makes someone choose to face their fears instead of hiding from them?"

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding." The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Maybe I'm tired of being the one left behind to stay safe while my friends risk their lives."

Klaus's smile widened, showing teeth. "Now that's honesty I can appreciate."

I swallowed hard, regretting my outburst. Every story I'd heard about Klaus started with someone letting their guard down, sharing too much.

"The message." I squared my shoulders. "What do you want me to tell Elena?"

"Straight to business?" He traced a finger along the door frame, stopping at the barrier's edge. "And here I thought we were having such a lovely chat about your academic pursuits."

"It's late, and I have homework to finish."

"Ah yes, your paper." His hand dropped to his side. "Though I suspect your mind's no longer on dance halls and bootleggers."

"Klaus." I forced myself to sound more direct. "The message?"

His expression shifted, playfulness vanishing like smoke. "Tell her I found what we discussed in Chicago. The item she's searching for? It's not what she thinks. And if she continues down this path..." He leaned forward, close enough that I could see flecks of gold in his eyes. "Well, let's just say some treasures are better left buried."

"That's cryptic, even for you."

"Consider it a courtesy warning. I do so hate to see wasted potential." He stepped back, adjusting his jacket cuffs. "Whether that potential belongs to Elena or yourself remains to be seen."

Goosebumps appeared on my skin from his words. "I'll tell her."

"My thanks for being such a reliable messenger bird." He gave a slight bow and turned his back to me walking away.

Klaus's silhouette started blending into the dimness of nightfall along the asphalt street, an impulsive need shot up my spine making my heart hammer against its cage; an acknowledgement of shared knowledge perhaps? Against all better judgement and advice whispering urgently for silence in my ear, I called out to him,

"Klaus!"

"Wait." As I called out his name, Klaus froze in place, his body still and tense as if carved from a block of cold, white marble. His face revealed a struggle, with furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he wrestled with conflicting emotions.

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned on his heel, his determined steps leading him back to my home.

The sound of his shoes crunching against the gravel path echoed through the quiet evening air as he strode purposefully towards me. Klaus was back on my porch as close to me as he could get this time without touching the invisible barrier.

"Yes?" His tone was casual, but his expression remained unreadable as he took in my call. Curiosity laced his low baritone voice. Despite the tension in his posture, he exuded a sense of grace and anticipation with a slight turn of his head and a raised eyebrow.

"I was wondering... if you could tell me about the 1920s?" I gesture helplessly. "But you'd have to stay on the porch, obviously."

His lips curved into an amused smile. "Curiosity wins over caution? How delightfully human."

"You can sit." I backed away from the door. "Let me just-"

I darted to the living room, dragging one of the heavy wooden chairs from our dining set. Its legs scraped across the floor as I pushed it through the doorway, over the threshold.

Klaus caught the chair with one hand, positioning it with casual grace. "Such hospitality."

"Can I get you something to drink?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Not... I mean, obviously not blood, but..."

"Scotch, if you have it." He settled into the chair. "Your father keeps a decent collection, as I can tell."

I froze. "How did you-"

"The cabinet right at the end of the hallway," He looked straight ahead. "I make it my business to know these things."

I found myself walking to our alcohol cabinet, hands shaking as I reached for the crystal decanter. The amber liquid caught the lamplight as I poured a generous measure into a glass.

When I returned, Klaus looked almost relaxed and at ease—something I had never seen in him before. I felt ridiculous, but I couldn’t take any chances with the unpredictable original. I quickly put the glass down on the ground and grabbed an umbrella from near the front door, using it to push the glass past the barrier.

“Really, love? A bit overly cautious?” he remarked, accepting the scotch as he leaned down to pick up the glass.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be too cautious around you, Klaus,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

I paused in disbelief as the reality sank in: an old vampire, let alone an original, was willing to help me with my school paper. "Hold on, I need to grab a few things," I mumbled under my breath before quickly climbing the stairs to retrieve my laptop and phone.

I also snatched a thick blanket, anticipating the cool air outside at this time of night.

Making my way back down the stairs, I bundled myself in the warm blanket and settled in the doorway, tucking my legs under for added coziness. With my laptop balanced on my lap, I turned to face him.

He sat across from me with a playful smile on his face, his words laced with flirtatiousness. "You are a most intriguing creature," he declared, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

My gaze traveled over his handsome features, admiring every detail - from the sharp angle of his jaw to the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Feeling a blush spread across my cheeks, I cleared my throat nervously. "Sh-should we get started?" I stammered.

"By all means," Klaus responded, raising his glass in a small toast before taking a sip of the scotch. "But where would you like to start? The Roaring Twenties were quite an eventful decade, after all."

I chewed at my bottom lip momentarily, scanning the information I had already collected on my screen. "Gangsters and speakeasies," I finally said. "Prohibition and the rise of organized crime."

His mouth quivered upwards slightly into a smile. "A fascinating period indeed." He leaned back in his chair, looking every inch the relaxed gentleman. Yet, there was an ominous stillness about him that contradicted his comfortable appearance.

He began to speak, describing the decadence and vibrancy of the 1920s with a vividness that only someone who lived through it could possess. His stories were filled with tales of moonshine and jazz, of raucous parties and hushed backroom deals.

As he spun his colorful narratives, I found myself increasingly drawn in by his storytelling, my homework temporarily forgotten. His voice wove a tapestry of the past so tangible that I felt as though I could almost touch it.

"There was this feeling in the air," he tried to explain with a far-off look in his eyes. "A desperation...a recklessness. It was as if everyone knew they were dancing on the edge of a cliff - but they were too caught up in their own enjoyment to care."

Then he shifted gears and tales of extravagance turned grimmer as he began narrating about the violent underbelly of the age - amoral gangsters with Tommy guns ruling cityscapes through fear and intimidation, corruption permeating every layer of society.

His violent accounts of the past made my blood run cold reminding me exactly who – or rather 'what' – Klaus really was - an ancient supernatural creature capable of unspeakable horrors, who had lived through centuries of human history, who had seen - no, done - the very worst humanity had to offer.

Yet, for all that he was and all that I knew him to be, in that moment, as he sat back in that old wooden chair recounting a bygone era with an almost nostalgic air about him – Klaus seemed startlingly human.

Hours passed and the moon climbed higher in the sky. The cold crept into my bones, stiffening my fingers against the keyboard. But I had too many questions and Klaus seemed more than willing to answer them.

A sense of camaraderie began to settle between us, one that made me forget for a few minutes about the inconceivable dangers associated with his kind. The night felt less threatening with Klaus’ presence - his tales from the past bridging the divide as we sat together under the chilling autumn wind sharing stories – his so supernaturally old and mine so humanly young.

As the night began to fade, a tinge of sadness crept into my heart, knowing that this evening was coming to an end. The weight of reality pressed down on me as I faced Klaus. His striking eyes, glowing like liquid gold in the dim light, were fixated on me once again. His eyes held a vast depth of knowledge, and for a moment, I was entranced by their mysteries.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" he asked, finishing the last sip of his scotch.

My eyes still locked onto his and I shook my head slowly, a soft smile playing on my lips. More than anything, I wanted to indulge in this moment just a bit longer.

"No," I replied, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of my laptop. "That...that's enough for now."

He chuckled softly, draining the last remnants of the amber liquid from his glass and placing it softly on the porch floor. Rising up from the chair, he stretched subtly, the muscles rippling under his attire creating a muscular silhouette against the glow of the approaching dawn.

"Very well then," he said, stepping towards me. He extended his hand to help me up from the cold wooden floor. As I reached out to accept it, a spark seemed to dart between us, potent and electrifying. I recoiled my hand before grabbing his realizing that he could pull me out from the protective barrier. I saw him frown for a moment but he recovered quickly as if it didn’t bother him.

“I should leave now, little creature,” he says almost endearingly.

"Wait." I scrambled to get him to stay in some way a little longer. "What about the message for Elena?"

"Ah yes." He paused at the edge of the porch steps. "Don’t worry your pretty mind about Elena’s business.”

"You're not going to explain what you meant about the item she's searching for?"

"Some discoveries are best made firsthand." He turned back, shadows playing across his features. "Besides, I've given you plenty to work with - both for your paper and for Elena."

My fingers clutched the laptop tighter. "Why help me at all?"

"Perhaps I enjoy nurturing young minds." His voice carried back through the darkness. "Or perhaps I simply appreciate anyone willing to look beyond the surface of history's official narrative."

My lips parted, ready to speak, but before I could even form a word, Klaus had vanished into thin air without uttering a simple 'goodbye'. The absurdity of the situation made me laugh, despite everything that had just transpired. I chuckled softly under my breath as I stood alone staring out at the vacant street from my front door.

I remained motionless for a while, hearing the cicadas pick up their song again, questioning whether the strange meeting had been real.

His empty scotch glass remained on the porch, catching moonlight like a diamond in the rough. I stared at it, mind racing through every detail of our conversation. Klaus's words about speakeasies, the hidden rooms, the secrets, crimes - they painted a vivid picture of the 1920s . But something nagged at me.

I pulled my phone out and opened my messages to Elena.

"Klaus was here. Said he found 'the item' you were looking for claims it's not what you think. Warning you about buried treasures?" My thumb hit over the send button.

The response came seconds later: "WHAT? Are you okay? Stay inside!"

"I'm fine. He couldn't cross the threshold." I glanced at the empty chair. "Elena, what's this item he mentioned?"

"Don't worry about that. We're turning around and heading back home now."

"It's late, I'm safe. He's gone." I looked at my laptop proud of the notes I'd taken. I set it aside on a table by the front door.

Elena's response buzzed through. "Be safe. We'll talk in a little bit. Lock everything."

"I will. Don't worry so much." I picked up the blanket ready to close the door.

But the empty scotch glass still sat on the porch I couldn't resist the urge to clean up.

"I really should bring that inside," I thought to myself, stepping over the threshold to grab it.

My fingers had barely closed around the glass when the air shifted. A rush of movement slammed me back against the house wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. Klaus's hands pressed on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Careful, love." His breath ghosted across my cheek. "Crossing thresholds can be dangerous business."

My heart thundered against my ribs. "You were waiting."

"Watching." His eyes traced my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "To see if temptation would overpower your better judgment once more."

"I just wanted the glass-" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

"Fascinating." His thumb traced along my jawline, the touch feather-light yet electric. "Your heart's racing, but you're not trying to run."

I pressed my palms flat against the wall behind me, desperate for something solid to ground me. "Maybe I know it wouldn't make a difference."

"Oh, it would make all the difference." Klaus's other hand slid down to rest at the curve of my neck, his fingers cool against my pulse point. "The chase always adds such... excitement."

"Is that what this is to you? A game?"

"Life's a game, love. The trick is knowing which pieces to move." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, and my breath caught. "And when to take risks."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of autumn leaves. Klaus's body blocked most of the porch light now, casting us both in shadow.

He spoke softly, his accent flowing over the words like smooth silk.

"What fascinates you more - the monster or the man?"

"I-" The word stuck in my throat as his fingers traced patterns on my skin. "Both. Neither. I don't know."

"Now that's honesty." He shifted closer, until barely a breath separated us. "Most humans choose one or the other. They either crave the darkness or desperately seek the light." His nose skimmed along my cheek. "But you... you see both, don't you? The artist and the killer. The teacher and the terror."

One of my hands found their way to his chest, but I couldn't tell if I meant to push him away or pull him closer. The fabric of his jacket was soft under my fingertips, hiding the immortal strength beneath.

My head was spinning, my thoughts scattered as Klaus's proximity overwhelmed me. I wanted to push him away, to run inside and lock the door behind me. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that a part of me was drawn to him, intrigued by his words and his touch.

"You shouldn't be here," I managed to say, my voice trembling.

Klaus's lips curved into a predatory smile. "But I am."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Why? Why do you keep coming back?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Because you intrigue me."

I shivered at the feeling of his warm breath on my skin. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He pulled back slightly, studying my face with those piercing blue eyes. "I want to show you what real passion is, love. To open your eyes to a world beyond your mundane existence."

I couldn't deny the spark of curiosity that flickered within me at his words. But I refused to give in so easily.

"I know what passion is," I said stubbornly.

"Do you? Has anyone ever made your heart race like this?" Klaus's hand trailed down my neck and over my chest before resting on my waist.

I swallowed hard as he leaned in again, our faces so close that our noses were almost touching.

"I can make you feel things you've never felt before," he whispered against my lips.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn't let myself succumb to him just yet.

"Who says I want that?" I challenged, trying not to let his nearness cloud my judgment.

"You do." His voice was low and confident. "You crave excitement and danger just as much as you fear it."

I wanted to deny it, but deep down I knew he was right. There was a part of me that longed for something more, something beyond the endless cycle of work, eat, and sleep.

"I'm not like you," I insisted, searching his eyes for some grain of understanding. Yet all I saw were galaxies of blue teasing me with unparalleled enigma.

His laughter echoed through the night, as soft and alluring as forbidden velvet. "Oh darling, nobody said you had to be." The fingers at my waist tightened slightly, pulling me inescapably closer. "All you need to be is... open."

"Open to what?" I whispered, my voice quivering, my heart hammered wildly against my chest.

His lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, with a passion that spoke of centuries of longing. The glass slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the wooden planks beneath us. My hands found his jacket lapels, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, my fingers curling into the expensive fabric. His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved against mine with desperate intensity, every touch igniting fire beneath my skin.

My heart thundered against my ribs, matching the fierce rhythm of his immortal strength pressing against me. I could feel centuries of loneliness and desire in the way he held me, his touch alternating between gentle reverence and possessive need. The wooden porch railing pressed into my back, grounding me in this moment that felt suspended between reality and dream.

His hand slid down my spine, leaving trails of fire in its wake, each touch a dangerous promise that made me shiver. I arched into him, gasping as his teeth grazed my lower lip, the gesture both tender and predatory. The rough wood siding pressed against my back, splinters catching at my sweater, a stark reminder of reality that did nothing to break the spell of his presence.

"Such sweet surrender," Klaus breathed against my mouth, his accent thicker with desire. His stubble scraped my skin as he traced kisses along my jaw, each one deliberate and claiming. "And here I thought you were the cautious one, love."

My fingers clutched his shoulders, seeking anchor in a storm of sensation, feeling the immortal strength beneath his expensive jacket. "I am cautious."

"Evidently not." His laugh vibrated against my throat, dark and rich like aged whiskey. "Though I must admit, your recklessness is... intoxicating."

The word snapped something in my brain, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Deadly. Every warning Elena had ever given me about Klaus crashed back like a tidal wave - stories of his cruelty, his manipulation, the trail of broken bodies he'd left across centuries.

"Wait." I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling his heart beat slow and steady beneath my hands. "Stop."

To my surprise, he did. Klaus pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with hunger that wasn't entirely vampiric, predatory desire written in every line of his immortal face. "Having second thoughts?"

"I'm having all the thoughts." My voice shook, betraying the chaos in my mind. "Every single one I should have had before I stepped outside this threshold. Every warning bell that should have rung hours ago."

"And yet here you are." His thumb traced circles on my hip, each movement sending shivers down my spine. "Making choices that would terrify your friends. Defying every careful warning they've whispered behind closed doors."

"They'd be right to be terrified." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my own recklessness. "You're..."

"A monster?" His smile held no warmth, just centuries of dark promises. "We've established that love. Multiple times tonight. Or have you forgotten our earlier conversations?"

"No, you're..." I struggled to form coherent thoughts with him still pressed against me, his presence overwhelming every sense. The scent of aged whiskey and leather clouded my mind, making it impossible to think straight.

"You're Klaus. You don't do this - whatever this is. You have schemes and plans and..." I drew in a shaky breath, acutely aware of how his touch seemed to burn through the thin fabric of my shirt. "You don't get distracted like this. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"Perhaps this is part of a scheme." His fingers skimmed up my side, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The predatory gleam in his eyes made my heart stutter. "Or perhaps you've simply caught my interest. A thousand years on this earth, and still you manage to surprise me."

"That might be worse." My voice came out barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of what those words could mean. The thought of being truly interesting to Klaus Mikaelson was more terrifying than any calculated plot.

His laugh was genuine this time. "Smart girl." He stepped back, leaving me cold in the autumn air. "Though not quite smart enough to stay inside, it seems."

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the shattered glass as I shifted uncomfortably on the porch. "You orchestrated this whole thing." The realization settled like lead in my stomach.

"The history lesson? Yes. The kiss?" His eyes glinted dangerously in the porch light pleased. "That was all you, love. Crossing thresholds, chasing after crystal glasses... Such impulsive decisions."

"You could have just taken the glass with you when you left." Even to my own ears, the argument sounded weak, defensive.

"And miss this delightful demonstration of poor judgment?" Klaus brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering a moment too long against my cheek. "Where would be the fun in that?"

My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket - probably Elena again, wondering why I wasn't responding. Klaus's eyes flickered down to the sound, a calculating expression crossing his features.

"You should answer that. Your friends are quite protective." He took another step back. "Though I doubt they'd approve of tonight's... extracurricular activities."

"Don't." Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand instinctively touched my still-tingling lips. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" He crouched down, picking up a large shard of broken crystal, his movements deliberately slow and graceful. "Seems more like an education to me. History, chemistry..." The glass caught moonlight as he turned it between his fingers, creating dancing patterns on the porch walls. "A practical lesson in crossing lines."

My phone buzzed again, the vibration seeming to echo in the tense silence between us. Klaus straightened back up to his full height.

"Your friends are getting impatient." Klaus stepped closer, his boots crunching over broken glass. "Though I must say, their timing leaves much to be desired."

I backed up against the door, heart pounding. "I should go inside."

"Should you?" His fingers traced the invisible barrier at the threshold. "We both know that's not what you want."

"What I want isn't always what's best for me."

"Now that's where you're wrong, love." Klaus's eyes locked with mine, intense and magnetic. His gaze held centuries of dark promises, sending shivers down my spine. "Sometimes the most dangerous choices yield the sweetest rewards. Why deny yourself?"

"Because I actually want to stay alive?" My wavering voice revealed my hesitation.

"No." His smile turned predatory, revealing just a hint of fang. "You're curious. Drawn to the darkness, even as you pretend to fear it." He gestured at the door behind me, his rings catching the porch light. "A couple of words, (y/n). That's all it would take. Invite me in."

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I gripped the door knob. "So you can what? Add me to your list of conquests?"

"So we can explore this... chemistry between us." His accent wrapped around the words like silk, each syllable a caress. "Don't pretend you haven't felt it building all evening. The way your heart races when I'm near, how your breath catches at my touch." His words hit too close to home, making my pulse stutter traitorously.

"Klaus..." The name came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Say yes." His hand hovered near my face, not quite touching, but I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Give in to what we both want."

My phone buzzed a third time, insistent and grounding. The familiar vibration cut through the spell he was weaving around me. I closed my eyes, fighting against the pull of his presence. "I can't."

"Can't?" His voice carried an edge of danger. "Or won't?"

"Both." I gripped the door frame harder, using the rough wood to anchor myself. "My friends trust me. I won't betray that."

"Loyalty." Klaus spat the word like poison. "Such a human weakness." His fingers traced the invisible barrier again, testing its limits. "And yet, it's precisely that quality which makes you..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Fascinating."

"I'm not fascinating." The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm just trying to survive in a world that keeps getting more complicated by the day."

"You underestimate yourself." His hand dropped to his side. "Most humans would have slammed the door in my face hours ago. But you..." His eyes raked over me, intense and calculating. "You stayed. Listened. Learned."

"Maybe I just needed help with my history paper."

"We both know that's not true." Klaus stepped back, his boots crunching over broken glass. "You're drawn to power, to knowledge. To danger." He smiled, all predator. "To me."

My phone buzzed again, the sound almost angry now. Klaus's eyes flickered to my pocket.

"Answer it." He gestured dismissively. "Before they send a search party."

"They might anyway." I pulled the phone out with trembling fingers. "Elena's not exactly the trusting type these days."

"Can you blame her?" Klaus's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "After everything that's happened in this town, trust becomes quite the precious commodity."

The screen lit up my face as I checked the messages. Four texts from Elena, each more worried than the last.

"Tell me something." I looked up from the phone. "Was any of this real? The history lessons, the stories?"

"Every word." Klaus picked up another shard of glass, turning it in the moonlight. "Though I admit, my motivations weren't entirely... academic."

"You could have just asked me out like a normal person."

His laugh echoed across the porch. "Normal? Love, I haven't been normal for a thousand years." He kicked the glass shards. "Besides, where's the intrigue in that?"

My phone buzzed again. Elena's name flashed across the screen, this time with a call.

"You should answer that." Klaus nodded toward the phone. "Your friend's persistence is admirable, if somewhat inconvenient."

I swiped to accept the call, keeping my eyes on Klaus. "Elena?"

"(y/n)! Thank god. Are you okay? Why weren't you answering?"

Klaus's smirk widened at Elena's panicked tone. He mouthed 'tell her' with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.

"I'm fine." I turned away from his taunting expression. "Just got caught up in my history paper. Lost track of time."

"You're sure everything's alright?"

"Perfectly fine." The lie tasted bitter on my still-tingling lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Klaus's low chuckle carried across the porch as I ended the call. "Such a convincing liar. I'm almost impressed."

"Don't." I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "This doesn't change anything."

"No?" He crossed the distance between us in two fluid steps. "Then why lie to your dear friend Elena? Why not tell her I'm still here?"

My back pressed against the door frame as he leaned in, his breath ghosting across my cheek. The scent of whiskey and leather overwhelmed my senses.

"Because she'd try to save me." The words came out before I could stop them.

"And you don't want to be saved." His fingers traced the curve of my jaw. "Say it, love. Invite me in."His words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise and danger.

His touch left fire in its wake, each caress stoking the flames higher. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through my nervous system. The rough wood of the house wall dug into my back, the only anchor keeping me from drowning in sensation.

"Please..." The word escaped before I could stop it, breathy and desperate.

"Please what?" His tone is dangerous and seductive. His thumb traced my bottom lip, pressing lightly. "Be specific, love."

Each feather light touch from his hand felt like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down my spine and causing my muscles to tense in anticipation.

Each circle he traced made me arch closer, seeking more contact.

"I..." The words tangled in my throat as his lips found that spot behind my ear that made my knees weak. "God, Klaus..."

"Not quite the invitation I'm looking for." His teeth grazed my skin, drawing a gasp from my lips. "Try again."

The rational part of my brain screamed warnings, but it was drowning in a sea of want. His hands, his mouth, his voice - everything about him demanded surrender. And I wanted to give in, wanted it with an intensity that frightened me.

"Come..." My voice shook as his fingers tangled in my hair.

He chuckled deeply, his hot breath rolling down my neck. "Come what, love?" His voice was a soft purr, dangerously coercive. He was playing with me and we both knew it.

"Come...in." I finally managed, the words barely making their way past the lump in my throat. His lips drew into a triumphant smirk as he pulled back, meeting my gaze with an intense hunger in his eyes.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he swept me into his arms, effortlessly crossing the threshold of my front door. A thrilling rush surged through me, igniting my senses and replacing any trace of fear with a tantalizing excitement that I couldn't resist

“You are mine now,” he growled, slamming the door with a loud thud that reverberated through the house. The heavy weight of finality hung in the air, a declaration that left no room for argument or negotiation. Everything had changed with those words, and the once familiar surroundings now felt foreign and dangerous.

As his words settled in, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding wash over me. This was my new reality, and there was no going back to how things used to be.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader

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unintentionalseductress · 1 day ago

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Why does everyone portray Caleb to be 'dark romance, zade meadows' coded? :/

Yeah he's got yandere traits to wanna keep her forever and for himself but he never implies that he'll hurt mc- instead expressing a fierce desire to protect her, so why do ppl write ffs Abt him being manipulative? Making him have 'rough jealous s*x' in which he's spewing a bunch of hurtful things just to manipulate mc to his liking?

I guess it's because of the initial show of possessiveness in his trailer, but literally every love and deepspace guy is possessive so why portray him so darkly?

I like that you portray him more realistically to his character and not so ooc because that's what it feels like most of the time

Hello there anon! I'm glad you think my portrayal of Caleb feels more realistic than some other interpretations. I really don't know where this concept of comparing Caleb to Zade comes from since Zade literally r**es the MC in that book and I simply can't picture Caleb doing that?

This might be a much longer response than you'd expected and I'm sorry, but I've been taking little notes as I went through Caleb's memories, anecdotes, and myth. I feel like most of the people that are portraying him in this sadistic way simply didn't read all the material and just clicked through to get the diamonds.

So let me start by saying, all the other 4 LI's met MC quite recently, meaning they had no say in her life and weren't there when the Chronorift Catastrophe occurred. They met her as an adult, when she'd had time to put herself together and act like a rational grown woman.

Caleb met her at the worst time in their lives as a child until Josephine adopted them. They trauma bonded and after all they've been through together, they're extremely possessive of each other. Not just Caleb, but even the MC as well. She's just as paranoid and possessive about Caleb as well, and this is evidenced in their memories which I will delve into shortly.

But imagine being so close and growing up with this person that you think you know like the back of your own hand. She and Caleb appeared to be quite close up until the explosion. Now MC had to deal with the loss of her second family, and possibly the love of her life. Yes, I said it. The love of her life, because after going through the memories, there's nothing that can be said to change my mind that these two weren't in some kind of relationship before Caleb's death.

Now Caleb is back. MC is wary of him, she's scared to be possessive of him like she was because she knows what it's like to lose him. Caleb has no idea where he stands in her life, and inside it's because he knows he fucked up. He realizes he wants her back, the same woman who was just as obsessed and possessive of him like how he was with her and he has no idea how to fix it.

Caleb imo slides into the tip of the yandere iceberg because of that scene in the main story where he says he'll rebuild their house in Linkon and they can move in together etc. To me, that's the effect of the chip (more to be discussed about that below), and also him literally breaking down because MC said his worst fear to his face; she doesn't need him anymore. How do you recover from having the one person you've loved for most of your life look at you with so much hate and say they don't need you? (reminded me of Sylus a little bit when he's told MC is disgusted by him) For him to be truly yandere, he would have locked her up then and there but he doesn't. He backs off, allows her to get back to her life unharmed, and he keeps himself busy with work. That doesn't look like true yandere behavior to me.

NOW. MYTH EVIDENCE. The part with the chips. The chips seem to exacerbate certain feelings that already exist and take them to the extreme, hence why people who are chipped are very emotionless and almost have a robotic character to them, perhaps to avoid the pain of being emotional. In his myth, we find Caleb actively fights the chip, and it puts so much strain on his body that he falls unconscious or goes into fits. I think that 'yandere' scene is because the chip and his body are at odds with each other. Even MC when she chips herself, finds herself being manipulative of Caleb, trying to make him think of memories that were only half-truths. They're both obsessed with each other, and without the chip, it was fine, but with chip, things get crazy.

Also, I think it's safe to say, Caleb hasn't shown yandere tendencies towards MC in the past pre explosion, beyond telling her to be careful during missions or to let her know when she got hurt. He wasn't upset because she wasn't staying at home, he's upset because she's hiding things from him (like when she lied about getting scratched by a cat pre explosion).

NOW ONTO THE MEMORIES. Because omg, there's so much evidence in the memories that Caleb realizes his limitations in his ability to care for her. In their bond memory Rain's Embrace, when MC is asleep on his shoulder, Caleb literally says something along the lines of "I promise not to be so overprotective of you." He says something similar in Endless Summer and Exclusive Aftertaste, stating he knows his tendency to protect her isn't good for either of them.

And to show how possessive MC was of him. In the memory Longtime Yesterday, we find out Caleb was super popular in college and many girls tried to befriend him by giving him bento boxes. His friends teased him saying "Miss Apple" helped him avoid having to accept the bento boxes. MC literally sulks all the way back to the airport and when Caleb asks her what's wrong she goes, "You have a Miss Apple," like that was a perfectly plausible explanation. Miss Apple turns out to be a hairtie that Caleb took from MC that has apple shaped beads on it and he wears it (presumably on his wrist) all the time, which drove away unwanted attention from other girls. MC was so upset prior to hearing this, and Caleb reassures her that he doesn't want anyone else's attention but her's.

In Borrowed Promise, which occurs when MC is still in high school, Caleb is visiting from college and MC has a fight with a friend who is a girl (important). Caleb notices she's unhappy and takes her to a fair of sorts to cheer her up and she tells him she's worried someone may not like her anymore. Caleb tries to act nonchalant but you can tell he's thinking MC has a boyfriend or a crush and he goes "their loss but oh well you're not for everyone." It's at this point she tells Caleb it's a girl and he's dumbfounded but his relief is evident.

And my favorite, Stage Observer. MC is helping Caleb empty his dorm since he's about to graduate from college and she finds an envelope tucked away in one of his books with cutesy apples on the surface. She mistakenly thinks this is a love letter and then gives a very confused Caleb the cold shoulder for the rest of her visit. Then on his graduation day, she softens and helps fix his tie as he's about to give his valedictorian speech. During this time, she admits she's scared about him finding someone else and he says he worries about her meeting someone else too, but he's happy having just her and grandma in his life. In his speech, Caleb talks about how people go through their whole looking for meaningful connections with people but he's fortunate to have found the one person he knows he can count on. Afterwards, MC runs to him and gives him what I think is their first kiss. And why does she do this? She says, "I kissed you so you can't have a girlfriend now!" Caleb is confused and then she finally admits seeing the envelope. Well guess what? It turns out the envelope actually holds a good luck charm she had sent Caleb but the cover got ruined so Caleb replaced it with the apple envelope. He teases her but the ending implies they now know how they feel for each other and that was the start of a more romantic relationship between them.

So there. MC is just as possessive and obsessed with Caleb as he is with her. He knows that and it's because he's so in tune with these feelings that to him, his actions don't seem out of line, because that's how he expects her to be with him as well. I think like the other boys, his love is limitless, he literally says, "I love you more than you realize" in his myth. He's struggling with mental health and trauma and I think people just want to downplay him for various reasons without delving into the complexity of his character, or the incredible history he has with MC, not from a past life, but in this very real, present one. He was there with her during a time when she didn't know a Xavier, a Rafayel, or a Sylus (maybe Zayne since Caleb mentions him).

There. It feels good to get this out. I will end this by saying, sure, Caleb qualifies as a dark romance, maybe a mild yandere, but definitely, nothing along the lines of Zade because I genuinely don't think he'd want to hurt MC by doing something that could hurt her or violate her consent.

I'm open to more discussion on this. And a reminder about my usual policy; if you have nothing nice to say, scroll on by.

#ncs #ncs replies #inbox asks #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lnds #caleb lads

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delugyu · 2 days ago

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Pls toxic guy fic …….. you need to do a pt 2 i love it :)))

hehehe of course <3

(wc: 1.5k — warnings: smut MDNI, jealousy, dubcon elements, thigh riding)

your friends don’t give up in their efforts to convince you that beomgyu’s bad for you, but you have a hard time believing them. beomgyu’s doubled down in showing his care for you—he’s incapable of prying his hands off of you, he showers you in constant praise, and he never fails to reassure you that everything’s okay. the line between platonic and romantic affection has been blurred for quite some time between you and beomgyu, but it’s something you’ve grown used to now.

beomgyu spends every moment he can with you, and makes sure to text you consistently in moments where you’re away. your friends think it’s borderline obsessive, and it never fails to become a topic of conversation in every hang out.

you know better than that, though. this is just what normal is for you and beomgyu. he’s told you enough times for it to be drilled into your head that your friendship can only be defined by the two of you, and you don’t want to make him upset anymore by questioning his behavior.

you do a good job at keeping your life with beomgyu separate from life with the rest of your friends. you learn to stop talking to beomgyu about them, and to feed into your friends’ theories about him as little as possible.

it’s not always easy, however. situations like this, for example, where you’re at the same party with beomgyu and your friends.

“i figured you’d be here,” beomgyu says, finding you as you’re grabbing another drink. he usually doesn’t go to parties unless you go with him, and you came here with your other friends this time. you didn’t even tell him you were going.

“yeah? how’d you know?” you ask. you walk back to the crowd, and beomgyu follows.

“your friend posted something about it.”

you laugh. “keeping tabs on my friends?”

he blinks at you. “no,” he says. seems like he didn’t catch your joke. you ruffle his hair, finding it cute.

you turn when you hear a friend call your name. she’s signaling you over, and you give one last look to your best friend in front of you. “i’m gonna go back to the girls now, but text me if you need me!”

you don’t look for him after that, too caught up in the atmosphere of the party. one of your friends introduces you to a handsome, charming guy. his name’s yeonjun, you find out after a short conversation, and it doesn’t take long for him to ask you to dance.

you’re pressed right up against him, following the sway of his hips, letting him lead the two of you. you’re all giggles as you talk to yeonjun, feeling entranced by the man.

it’s not even a couple minutes later that you’re pulled away from yeonjun, eyes widening at the feeling of being tugged and dragged away from the crowd. you knew who the culprit was immediately; the feeling of beomgyu’s hand on your skin is as familiar to you as the feeling of air filling your lungs.

the next thing you know, beomgyu’s shutting the bathroom door behind you, locking the two of you inside. you get no chance to ask questions before his lips are on yours, kissing you with more heat than you’ve ever seen from him before.

even in your tipsy state, you know this is much further than you’ve gone with him before. he doesn’t pull away, though, sucking your lips like he has something to prove. you jerk your head to the side so his mouth detaches from yours.

“what’s going on?” you ask, searching for an answer on his face. all you find is how pissed off he is.

“you tell me. who the fuck was that?” he levels you with a hard stare, leaving no room for excuses.

“some guy my friend knows,” you answer, shrugging like it’s not a big deal.

his laugh holds no real humor. “your friends always try to slut you out like this?”

“excuse me?” you let beomgyu get away with many things, but even you know when enough is enough.

he doesn’t respond, only leans in to start peppering kisses down your neck. you’re left feeling confused, not understanding his overreaction just a second ago.

your eyes go wide once you feel his tongue on your skin, licking over the spot he just kissed. you give his chest a small shove, but he doesn’t budge. he’s sucking on your skin now, surely trying to decorate it with a mark.

this is definitely too much. alarms ring in your head as all your friends’ warnings fly back to you in droves. you breathe out something that sounds like a whine when he bites down where your neck meets your shoulder. his tongue laves at the area, and his trail of kisses continues down to your collarbone.

“gyu,” you start, threading your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him away. “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

he doesn’t answer, just slips the thin sleeve of your dress down, freeing some skin. his mouth latches onto you dangerously close to your breasts, sucking marks onto you. his hand creeps up your thigh, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh. your other sleeve meets the same fate, prompting much of your chest to be exposed.

“gyu,” you try again, but your call is only met with the feeling of his hand inching further up your thigh.

you finally tug hard enough at his hair to pry him off of you. he’s equal parts anger and lust as he stares at you. he grabs onto your waist and pulls your body into his, wedging one of his legs between yours. a jean-clad thigh meets your center, but you bite back any noise that threatens to slip out.

“what is it with you and trying to replace me?” he asks, eyes flitting down your frame. they linger on the expanse of your chest. he’d just have to pull your dress down slightly for your tits to pop out.

“replace you?” you repeat, trying not to lose yourself to the feeling of him pressing against your core.

“other friends, other men, everyone else but me…” you scrunch your face at his words, not understanding him.

“i hang out with you all the time,” you counter.

one of his hands leaves your waist, making its way up to your breast. you don’t allow yourself to gasp at the feeling when he slowly rubs a thumb across your clothed nipple.

“w-what are you doing?” you ask, hanging desperately onto your sanity.

he brings his eyes back to yours. “i’m taking what’s mine.”

your eyes roll back when he makes you grind against his thigh. his other hand continues to play with your tits, and the stimulation is already overwhelming. this isn’t ever anything you’d expect to be doing with beomgyu.

“we can’t”—your sentence is cut off by a gasp when he presses his thigh against you with more force—“can’t do this.”

“why?” he asks. “you would have ran off to do this with yeonjun anyway. i’m just giving you what you wanted.”

you throw your head back, still trying to fight the feeling, but it’s hard when he’s rubbing you against him so deliciously. your friends were right: beomgyu is taking things too far, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him now.

“how do you feel?” he asks, pulling his hand from your breast to make you look directly at him. he’s got a tight hold on your jaw, so you can’t save yourself and look another way. his stare is so intense, it leaves you feeling naked.

“good,” you answer. he grins at that, and his hand on your hip coaxes you to roll your hips a little more. it doubles the buzz you were already feeling, and you whine at the sensation. your legs start twitching, pleasure taking over.

a knock at the door brings a sense of fear upon you. you look at beomgyu in horror, realizing he’s not going to stop. he leans in, bringing his lips to your ear.

“you gotta cum now, okay?” you shake your head, not wanting to risk the person on the other side of the door hearing anything. “yes, you do.”

he uses both his hands on your hips to drag your cunt across his thigh, determined to get you off before you get kicked out of the bathroom. you cover your mouth with your hand, trying your hardest to keep any sounds from escaping you. it’s so hard when your whole body is succumbing to the feeling, orgasm creeping up on you. another knock sounds at the door, harder this time.

“come on, show me what i do to you,” beomgyu urges, eyes locked on your face. he smiles at your wide eyes, so conflicted between wrong and right. you have no choice—your climax hits you before you can stop it. you close your eyes and focus on being as silent as you can while your hips stutter against him.

“good job,” he praises as you come down, hands moving from your thighs to fix the straps of your dress. you bring your hand off your mouth when he pulls his thigh from you. you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“we need to talk about this later,” you say.

he smiles. “why don’t we just go back to my place and talk about it there?”

#beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard hours #beomgyu smut #txt smut #delugyu drabbles

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the-raven-and-the-tower · 1 day ago

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A snoop through Lucanis's room in the Lighthouse; Signs of a Struggle

Lucanis is doing a damned good job holding it together considering everything he's been through. He's keeping a tight grip on his emotions and using the job to focus himself, but if you stop in to check on him... there are a few clear signs that not all is well.

Baby boy picked a room without windows, yet he's still craving light. For an assassin who has spent most of his life very comfortable in the dark, he’s avoiding it now like he’s avoiding sleep.

There are FIFTY SEVEN candles in his room. Fifty six of them are lit. Look at the variety. He found every spare candle available to him in the Lighthouse and possibly dragged a few back with him from the Cantori Diamond or Dellamorte estate.

^ Short candles, tall tapers, all in various states of use, ALL LIT. One very different candle in a silver candle-holder, maybe from the Diamond or home

^ Another silver addition, this time a candelabra with similar style to the last one and an elven lamp, similar to the one Rook decorates their room with.

^ Three more styles of candlestick holders in with all the standalone candles I'm guessing he found around the Lighthouse.

^ Terrible shot, but he also has both wall torches lit, which were the only lights in that space when he moved in IIRC

And what's more, he has enough coffee stashed in this room to give niacin flush to an elephant.

There are ELEVEN coffee cups sitting out and two more sitting ready next to the gifted coffee set. (Also, he has no coffee in his mug if you sneak a peek into it.)

^ Seven of the cups are within reach of his right hand, where he sits on the bed.

^ There's another in front of his hookah pipe. Couple more in the second shot, I missed a picture of one somehow. There are two unused cups sitting ready behind his gifted coffee set that definitely doesn't look like it's for tea...

^ Coffee beans and I'm guessing the two sacks next to the basket are full of the same. His empty cup below, cuz it makes me laugh.

Next, the bed. It gives me vibes of the crappy bedroll Astarion sleeps on in BG3. Look at this thing.

You can see where he tried scrubbing the grime away before giving up and deciding to just live with it. We know there are other beds in the Tower, Taash and Davrin both have cozy ones when they arrive.

Whether or not Lucanis had the conscious thought of "what he's worth / deserves", this is how he values himself. This is what he chose to sleep in... likely with the thought that he's going to be avoiding sleep at all costs anyway, why does it matter what shape the bed is in?

He brought barely any personal possessions with him. Lace is the same way, but Bellara's room is full and we found her packing list (adorable). Neve, too, has brought books, papers, a spare leg, tools to work on it with... Even Rook has a scene where they decorate their room with possessions that are meaningful to them.

But if we go looking through Lucanis's personal belongings, we find barely any of them. And what few there are, we find mixed among the team supplies or shoved under them.

^ Here, is hookah pipe is neatly shelved in the corner, and we find a a heavily-armored and well-locked chest tucked among the fruit. I might be looking for meaning where there isn't any but... Lucanis has got himself tucked away in the pantry, his walls up and himself still locked away in the Ossuary of his mind.

^ Better view of the chest.

Underneath one of the moved shelves is a Crow-themed rug, with almost all details hidden under supplies for the team, another big basket of coffee beans and another presumably-locked chest.

Under the bed, we find another rug, rolled up and not set out even though having it laid on the floor inside of the bed would be more comfortable. He spends a lot of time sitting on that bed, having a rug to put his feet on could be nice and yet... it's under the bed.

The only other Lucanis possession I could find in the room is his bag, shoved under his bed. He's a boujie boy, but it's not a boujie bag. It's utilitarian and well-used, shoved under the bed until he needs it.

To end on a slightly happier note... his brewing bench outside the pantry door is pretty neat.

^ I wonder where these mugs are from and what the designs represent.

^ Any idea what this is, anyone? The thing hanging from the chain?

Oh, and guess what was under the brew station! MORE COFFEE!

#candles for comfort #fifty-seven flames and counting #hiding in the light #lucanis vs the dark #candlelit coping mechanisms #coffee hoard of an assassin #eleven cups of no coffee lol #grime-covered self-worth and sadness #ossuary mindset at the lighthouse #sleep avoidance strategies ig #personal possessions or lack thereof #da4 lucanis #dragon age lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers

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achilles-rage · 2 days ago

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Bad Thing Turned Even Better

part one

summary: months after your encounter with buck at the bar, you confront him at his apartment about what he the hell that night was.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: y'all this is not the trope you think it is, i promise!! please don't click off when you read the first sentence of dialogue!! also, how the hell did a drabble prompt request turn into two parts?? i guess i'm just that feral over buck and hate fucking?? anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: mentions of previous smut (but no actual smut), talk about reader hating shitty men<3, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

It’s been a few months since you’ve last seen Buck at the bar, and you’ve been avoiding him ever since.

You can’t exactly say that you regret it; he knew exactly what he was doing, but the more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off even more. Did he have to be so cocky, and smug, and overall infuriating? You can’t believe that you actually gave in to him, and then gave him the satisfaction of not seeing him for months, like some stupid one night stand. It’s probably exactly what he wanted to happen; to use you and throw you away like nothing.

Without thinking any further, you get dressed and make your way to Buck’s apartment with a frown etched onto your face.

You pull into the parking lot haphazardly, barely putting the car in park before stomping up to his door, knuckles rapping harshly on the wood and your eyes narrowed. He’s in the middle of cooking dinner, so he drops his knife and makes his way to the front door, smirking when he looks through the peephole and sees you.

“I’m pregnant.” is all you say when he opens the door, pushing your way past him and into the apartment before he can react.

The smirk drops from his face as soon as the words register in his mind, and he turns on his heel as he closes the door, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What?” Buck gets out, eyes travelling down your body, taking a moment to focus on your plush middle. He hates that possessiveness flares inside him at the thought; of you being claimed completely by him, as much as it scares the hell out of him.

“Okay, I’m not. But, did you even think about that possibility when you didn’t pull out?” you question, your arms crossed over your chest as you glare at Buck. You can see the sigh of relief he takes, but then almost immediately, the smirk is back on his face as he takes a step closer to you, eyeing you with a lustful gleam in his eyes.

“You didn’t think about it either, though, did you, sweetheart?” he questions, mirroring your stance and crossing his own arms, making his biceps flex against the tight sleeves of his t-shirt.

You clench your jaw at his accusation, because he’s right. When he was fucking you, all you could think about was him filling you up; you didn’t even have half of a mind to think about the possible implications of your actions.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you being completely reckless. You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” you finally say after a second too long, and he catches on to this. He tilts his head to the side, then takes another step closer to you, effectively closing the distance between the two of you and forcing you to tilt your head up to keep your narrowed eyes locked with his.

“Honestly, I think I would’ve done the exact same thing even if I knew you weren’t. And you wouldn’t have complained, either, would you?” he questions, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek as his eyes dart down to the way your arms push your tits up.

For a moment, you can’t even speak; you’re so angry and, you hate to admit, turned on, that all you can do is clench your jaw and stare up at him.

Finally, you scoff, shaking your head once before standing up straighter, trying to get into his face.

“God, do you always have to be like this? The only person you think about is yourself!” He chuckles, raising his brows at your outburst, and he leans in even closer as his eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, letting you feel his breath against your skin.

He loves your feisty side. It’s never been something he’s necessarily gravitated towards, but you just look so good when you’re pissed off at him. He’s not exactly sure why you hate him so much, but he does know that he loves to see that look in your eyes. Almost as much as he loves how easy it is to fuck the attitude out of you.

“Actually, I was thinking about you. Being completely mine.” he says in a low, smooth voice, tilting his head further to the side as his eyes narrow slightly.

Your throat goes dry at his words, but you keep your gaze stoic, eyes searching his for a moment as you try not to let the butterflies deep in your belly rise to the surface. You’d love for him to actually mean it, but why would he, you think? You’ve seen the type of women guys like him go for; thin, model-like figure, and absolutely gorgeous. You know you’re pretty, but you know not to get your hopes up with men like him.

“What are you trying to do here?” you finally say, now less angry, and more exhausted. You’ve spent so long hating Buck, and you’re getting sort of sick of having your guard up when he’s around, which is quite frequently with him being in your friend group.

“I think it’s obvious.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning down as he shrugs. You scoff, rolling your eyes. Why does he insist on continuing to toy with you?

“What are you really trying to do? Because we both know it isn’t that.” you ask again, letting your arms fall to your sides.

“Why are you so sure it’s not?” he questions as his smirk slowly falls. He can see that you’re at your wits end, so he uncrosses his arms as well, letting a sincere look make its way onto his face as he puts his hands on his hips.

“Because I know you! I know guys like you!” you practically yell, throwing your arms up in the air as if it’s obvious. You let out a sigh once you see his brows furrow in confusion, turning and taking a step back as you collect your thoughts for a second without him so close.

“You’re smug, and you’re arrogant, and you’re only nice to people that you think are attractive enough to deserve your attention, which by the way, isn’t all that special of a thing.” you list off, counting each thing on your fingers as you move to stand in front of him again.

He still looks confused, and you’re not sure if you’re more angry or frustrated at this point. Now that you say it out loud, you feel a little silly, but it’s still what you believe; it’s what you’ve been proven many times in your life.

“Have I done anything to prove to you that I’m like that?” he questions, ducking his head down to better match your height. He brings one of his hands up to your arm in a way to comfort you, because he’s unsure of what else to do. Now that he knows why you don’t like him, he’s confused, and a little upset you think so little of him.

“You didn’t have to. I’ve known enough guys like you.” you say, shrugging away from his grip and taking a step back. You force yourself to look away from him; if you don’t, you’re sure you’ll just end up doing something stupid. Now that he’s not being so confident and cocky, all you want to do is kiss him again.

“Well, maybe that’s the problem. I’ve only ever been nice to you, and you’re acting like this because different guys have treated you like shit.” he tries to reason, wanting more than anything to close the distance between you again. He feels that surge of possessiveness fill his belly again at the thought of men in your past treating you badly enough to turn you into this. It’s cute, and he loves it, but he also feels his blood boiling as he thinks about you having to act like this in order to protect yourself from men.

“Come on, you’re too hot to not be like that. You’re just better at hiding it.” you say, mostly talking to yourself as you look up at him.

“So, you think I’m hot?” he says, the usual smirk making its way back onto his face. He’s not sure how else to show you that he wants you; he’s flirted with you for months. He fucked you for God’s sake, and you still think he’s not being serious.

“Do you always have to be like this? You were finally being a normal person.” you say, letting out an incredulous laugh, fighting back a smile as you look away.

He grabs your chin before your face is hidden from him, though, and he brings your face back up to his, letting his eyes study your face for a moment.

“You’re beautiful.” he murmurs as his eyes dart back up to yours. You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the sincerity behind his words, and the smile finally makes its way onto your face.

He can’t help but smile when you do, loving the sight. He’s sure now that he’d rather see you like this than like you were before.

“Stop.” you whisper, voice cracking and barely audible as butterflies swarm your tummy. He just chuckles quietly, grabbing your hip with his other hand and pulling you into him.

“No.” he whispers back before leaning down, his lips meeting yours in a dizzying kiss. He can feel your plush body against his front, and he hums softly, tilting your head further up into the kiss before his hand moves from your chin to the side of your neck and holds you in place.

He’s tempted to pick you up and bring you upstairs to his bed, but he knows he should take things slower than he did at the bar, as amazing as that night was. He keeps his movements slow, letting his tongue slip into your mouth when you part your lips, and runs his thumb over the sensitive skin on your neck as he holds you flush against him.

After a minute or two, you try to deepen the kiss, raising onto your toes and grabbing the front of his shirt as your lips speed up, but he pulls back an inch, mumbling “slower” against your lips.

You try to do as he says, but your knees feel weak. Your head is spinning with how he’s kissing you, and all you want is more of him. He has to remind you a few times to slow down before you finally pull back breathlessly, your pupils blown and lips swollen as you look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes.

“Do you believe me now?” he asks softly, keeping you pressed tight against him as his hand moves up your side comfortingly.

You blink slowly, barely even remembering your own name as you stare into his eyes. You can’t even remember what you were talking about before he kissed you, so all you say is a gentle “what?”

“Do you believe that I want you now?” he clarifies, unable to resist the urge to lean down and give you a chaste kiss as your brows remain knit together in confusion.

“That depends.” you say, a small smile making its way onto your face as you shrug.

“On what?” he asks with a smile, his own brows furrowing. He thought the kiss finally got his feelings for you into your head, but now it doesn’t seem so.

“You have enough for two?” you tease, looking over to the kitchen where his half-cooked meal is sitting. He chuckles with a shake of his head. You’re going to be the death of him.

“Absolutely.” he purrs, pulling you impossibly closer, and you laugh softly, nodding.

“Good.” you say, then push him away and make your way over to the kitchen, looking over the ingredients spread across the counter.

He stays in his spot for a moment, watching the way your hips sway, and he smiles to himself at how content you finally seem in his presence. You’re quick to make yourself at home in his apartment, and it makes his chest fill with pride that he’s finally broken through your walls.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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libingan · 4 hours ago

Text

—no questions asked.

you’ve always been his, even before the words were ever said—no labels needed when everything else speaks for itself.

i remember candace and jeremy's relationship in phineas and ferb. i liked how jeremy assumed they were already dating and thought to myself "simon riley" so here it is.

it’s always been this way with simon.

the little things you’ve shared, those moments that nobody else gets to see, have slowly built up over time. long drives where the silence is comfortable, quiet moments when you’re wrapped up in a blanket together, his arm draped around your shoulders. you’ve shared soft kisses in the early morning light, whispered words when you think no one’s listening, and occasional touches that linger just a second too long to be deemed innocent. his gruff voice calling you his—just “his,” as if you’re already a part of something bigger, something unspoken.

but the question always lingers in the back of your mind: what are we?

because in your head, you’re not his girlfriend. you never really were. sure, you’ve done couple things—spent hours together, laughed over inside jokes, shared moments that feel like they belong to only the two of you. but whenever you think about it, you can’t quite place a label on what you are. you never had that conversation, the one where he asks you out, where you define what this thing between you is.

and deep down, you’ve always known. maybe it’s not meant to last. maybe simon’s just passing through your life like a storm, wild and unpredictable, leaving you wondering if you’ll ever feel whole again once the dust settles. you’ve never asked for a commitment. it was enough for you to just be close, to keep things easy and fluid, without any promises that might eventually break.

but then, everything changes the moment you decide to confront him.

it’s a quiet night, the kind where the world outside seems to stop, and you’re sitting in the living room, the only sound being the soft hum of the kitchen light. simon’s sprawled across the couch, eyes half-lidded as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning your back against the coffee table, and you can’t stop your thoughts from swirling.

the truth has been eating at you for weeks now, months maybe. you have to ask. you need to know if this is really what you want, and more importantly, if it’s what simon wants. so, you let the question slip, unsure of how it’ll come out, but it tumbles from your lips all the same.

“simon,” you begin, your voice quiet but firm, “what are we?”

he doesn’t immediately look up from his phone. it’s as if the question barely registers, but you know he’s heard it. you can feel his attention slowly turning your way, as if his brain needs a second to process the weight of your words.

he puts the phone down, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze soft but intense. he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, his lips curl into a small, knowing smirk.

“what do you mean?” his voice is low, almost like he’s testing the waters.

you swallow, feeling a tightness in your chest, and you try to make your words come out right. “i mean… we do all this stuff, simon. you call me yours, and i… i don’t even know where i stand. we’ve never really talked about what this is. are we… are we dating, or what?”

he blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words. it’s almost funny, how much you’ve thought about it, how much you’ve analyzed your every interaction, while simon has likely never questioned it. it’s simple to him. and that’s when it hits you—he’s never even considered that this could be anything other than what it is.

he sighs, a deep, exasperated sound, and leans back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. “what are you on about, woman? you’re my girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t quite process them. you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him right. it almost sounds like he’s stating a fact, like it’s something as simple as breathing. his voice is firm, unwavering, as if this was always meant to be the case.

you feel your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in, and then—just like that—all your worries melt away. you don’t even know why you were so worried in the first place. the uncertainty, the anxiety, it all seems so silly now. you’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all. simon is, as always, so simon about it. there’s no drama, no overthinking, no need for big conversations or declarations.

you’re his. you’re his girlfriend. and there’s no debate.

the relief hits first, followed closely by a mix of amusement and a small flash of annoyance. you try to hold back the grin tugging at your lips. “wait... just like that? no question, no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ just… you’re my girlfriend?”

he meets your gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “that’s right. you’re mine. no need for any of that nonsense. i’ve already decided.”

you stare at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. it’s the way he speaks, like he’s already certain, already claimed you. and it feels… good. reassuring, even. but also, just a little bit frustrating. because, honestly, how do you even argue with that?

“god, you’re impossible,” you mutter, a grin breaking through as you roll your eyes. “seriously. you’re so damn sure about everything.”

he just smirks back, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “you should be glad i am, sweetheart. now, come here.”

he pats his lap, and before you can protest, you’re already moving toward him, the tension from moments before completely gone. his arms pull you close, and you settle against him, feeling his familiar warmth. you don’t even need the words anymore. somehow, just being with him like this is enough.

and that, you realize, is exactly what simon’s always known.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader fluff #cod fluff #simon riley x reader

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am-i-interrupting · 3 days ago

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Hi, sorry to bother you but might I request a head over heels, tripping over himself, bumping into things when he hears her name love-struck dumb, old silco? As a former full service SW, he just has puppy dog, clingy written all over him. 🤣

Favors for Favors

Silco had only been half listening to the report that Sevika was giving. It wasn’t anything important. Nothing which needed his direct attention. It was all simply things he should be passingly aware of.

The scratch of his pen was a nice background to her smooth, husked voice. This was a routine the two were both well adjusted to. It hadn’t changed in some time.

Whether or not he should respond to Madame Margot’s request for more funding for guards ran on his mind. She was one of the more competent. Her lady’s brought in a lot of money, very little of which she actually have to the cause and he knew that.

Most of it went towards the luxuries of her business. Keeping rooms nice, pillows fluffed, dolls dressed in a manner of speaking.

He twisted his pen in his hand as he thought.

She was the one he was most familiar with.

Yes, there were others. Renni and her child workers, as she called them, and a warehouse full of shimmer. Chross and his secrets and fast working hit men. Smeech and his loud mouth which didn’t suit the prosthetics he had made. Finn and his. . . Whatever it was exactly he did.

Margot though was something of a collection of all of them. She had the public favor of Finn. She had the will to survive of Smeech. She held secrets and spread shimmer with her workers.

By far she was the most useful of them all.

Silco was in the middle of responding to her request with approval when his ears perked at a name, your name. His pen faltered for a moment. His eyes flicked up to where Sevika stood.

She scoffed. “You really are down bad, aren’t you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Did you even hear the last ten minutes or just that last name?” she asked with a bit of humor in her eyes.

Silco’s lip twitched upward. His gaze went back down.

“You were saying about the layoff happening in the docks?”

“I stopped talking about that seven minutes ago, boss,” she said.

He cut her a look and she had the audacity to smile to herself. It was a bit smug and not at all subtle.

“But profits have raised since your girl started,” she said.

He continued to write his approval. “The only girl that is mine is Jinx,” he retorted.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

It was rare that Silco got the chance to banter anymore. It’d been years but some days when Sevika was tired and probably at least a bit tipsy and not in an entirely foul mood, she would joke.

He didn’t admit it but it was small moments like these that he was found of.

She leaned against the desk. Her face got close to his. Her arm sat just above the top of the paper which was still wet with ink.

The smell of tequila was on her breath. Not strong but not weak either.

“Do me a favor, just get fucking laid,” she said.

She pushed herself up. She turned and walked out.

“Only if you do the same,” he said right before she closed the door.

He heard her snort right before there was click of lock sliding in place.

It was two days later when Sevika knocked on his door. He welcomed her in but she merely opened it enough to peak her head inside.

“I held up on my favor,” she said, “now hold up on yours or at least go down there and get a drink.”

It wasn’t late in the night when those words echoed in his mind but rather very early in the morning.

Maybe he should. Maybe he would.

He went downstairs.

“Chuck, go home,” he heard your voice say as he neared the bottom.

“I’m fine,” a hoarse voice replied, gravely and that clearly of a chainsmoker.

“No, you’re not. You got a glass thrown at you. Just let me take care of closing up.”

“Not what I’m paid to do.”

“I believe,” Silco said as he stepped into view, “what I pay you to do is serve drinks.”

Chuck’s lip curled upward into a snarl. He took the wordless demand and turned to his other side.

His sleeve was covered in blood, still wet even just looking. There were small nicks and a very large gash. It curled around his bicep and dug into it.

“Should I request the Doctor give you visit or would you prefer your means?” Silco asked as he looked at the wound. Chuck’s silence was reply. “Very well then. I highly suggest you take advantage the kindness being gifted to you. It’s rarity these days.”

“Fine,” Chuck said through gritted teeth.

When the door slammed shut, Silco finally looked at you. You had a small, pleased smile on your face. Your chin was held by your hand. Eyes were fixed on him.

Silco took a deep breath and tried to will down that little jump his heart tried to do, aiming for his throat.

“You’re going soft,” you said in a sing-song tone.

“He can’t serve drinks if he can’t use his arm,” Silco said.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

You spun around and reached for a bottle of whiskey. A glass was picked up in your hands as you turned around to the bar. A small scoop was filled with ice which clinked against the glass as it was plopped in. You didn’t look down as you filled it.

“What gives me the pleasure of your company tonight?” you asked.

That simple question led to over an hour of conversation and Silco behind the bar, helping you clean. All because he mentioned he’d once had experience and you had audacity to challenge that.

#Silco & Sevika friendship my beloved #silco arcane x you #silco arcane x reader #silco x you #silco x reader

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celebtf · 16 hours ago

Text

GLEN AND THE MAGIC-TRICK

Zac had never been satisfied with his life. Mediocrity dripped from every corner of his existence like a slow poison. Yet, the moment he saw Glen Powell on the big screen, something inside him snapped.

Glen wasn’t just successful—he was everything. The perfect face, the perfect voice, the perfect life. Every magazine cover, every glowing interview, every post on social media felt like a personal insult to Zac. He wanted it all. No, he needed it.

And if Glen had to lose everything for Zac to take it? So be it.

Late one night, Zac called his only friend, Jordan, his voice a mix of desperation and rage.

“I can’t keep living like this, man. Every time I see that smug face, it’s like he’s mocking me. Like he knows he has everything I’ll never have.”

Jordan didn’t try to comfort him. He didn’t tell him to calm down or suggest therapy. Instead, he chuckled darkly. “So, take it from him.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take it. If you hate him so much, why not become him?”

Zac was silent. The idea slithered into his mind, coiling around his thoughts. “How?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Jordan said. “But you need to be all in. No second-guessing, no whining. This isn’t just some prank. We’re taking his life, Zac.”

Zac’s lips curled into a grin. “I’m all in.”

Jordan worked quickly, calling in favors and pulling strings. Within days, he had secured them a spot as “magicians” at the Twister premiere.

“Magicians?” Zac asked when Jordan explained the plan.

“It’s perfect,” Jordan said. “No one will suspect a thing. We’ll make Glen disappear, and you’ll take his place. Simple.”

The day of the premiere arrived, and Zac felt a twisted thrill coursing through him as he donned his magician’s costume. Jordan, ever the mastermind, went over the plan one last time.

“When Glen steps into the box, I’ll distract the crowd. You take care of him, and... well, let’s just say the box has a few special features.”

Zac smirked. “You’ve thought of everything.”

Jordan grinned. “Of course I have. Now let’s make some magic.”

The premiere was a dazzling spectacle of lights, cameras, and celebrities. Glen Powell was the star of the evening, his every move followed by adoring fans and flashing cameras.

When Jordan approached him with the invitation to participate in their act, Glen laughed and agreed without hesitation.

“Why not? Let’s give the people a show!”

Jordan led Glen onto the small stage, where the crowd eagerly gathered to watch. Zac, hidden inside the box, felt his heart race—not with fear, but with anticipation.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jordan announced, “prepare to witness the impossible! The incredible Glen Powell is about to vanish before your very eyes!”

Glen stepped into the box, his trademark grin in place. Jordan closed the door with a flourish, and the crowd erupted in applause.

Inside the box, Zac moved quickly. A hidden panel slid open, and he lunged at Glen, pressing a cloth soaked in chloroform over his face.

Glen struggled, his eyes wide with shock, but the chloroform worked fast. As Glen’s body went limp, Zac lowered him to the floor and began the transformation.

He stripped Glen of his clothes, every piece feeling like a trophy. Once he was dressed, the real change began.

It started with his hands, his fingers elongating, the skin smoothing into Glen’s perfect complexion. His arms stretched, muscles rippling beneath his flesh. He felt his legs grow longer, his spine cracking as his posture shifted.

Then came his face.

It started as a searing heat, like his skin was melting. Zac bit down on a scream as his cheekbones sharpened, his jawline reshaped, and his nose slimmed. His hair lightened, strand by strand, until it matched Glen’s golden locks.

He stared at his hands, now Glen’s hands, and a laugh bubbled up from his throat. It wasn’t his laugh anymore—it was Glen’s.

The transformation was complete.

Jordan spun the box three times, then stopped, his voice booming. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, behold the incredible Glen Powell!”

The door swung open, and Zac stepped out, every inch of him now Glen Powell. The crowd erupted into cheers, none the wiser that the man before them was an imposter.

Zac bowed, his movements fluid and confident. “Thank you! Thank you!” he called, mimicking Glen’s voice perfectly.

Jordan grinned, knowing they had pulled it off.

As Zac walked off the stage and onto the red carpet, cameras flashed, and fans screamed his—no, Glen’s—name. He soaked it all in, relishing the adoration.

Backstage, Jordan packed up the props, including the box with the real Glen tied up inside. He whistled as he loaded it into a van and drove off to their prearranged hiding place.

Hours later, in a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of town, Zac and Jordan stood over Glen, who was tied to a chair, still groggy from the chloroform.

“Wakey, wakey,” Zac said, his voice dripping with mockery. His new voice—Glen’s voice—sent a chill down the actor’s spine.

Glen’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. He was looking at... himself.

“What... what is this?” Glen croaked.

Glen struggled against the ropes, but

Jordan stepped forward, his knife glinting in the dim light.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he said with a smirk.

Zac turned to Jordan. “You know, this feels... right. Like I was always meant to be him.” He paused, studying Jordan. “But you... you could use an upgrade too.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Why settle for being the guy behind the scenes?” Zac said, his voice silky. “Find someone. An actor, a musician, anyone. Take their life, just like I took Glen’s. We could rule Hollywood together.”

Jordan’s smirk widened. “You might be onto something.”

Zac leaned in close to Glen, his stolen face inches away. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered.

The warehouse echoed with their laughter as Glen sat helpless, his screams drowned out by the sound of their victory.

To be continued...

#celebrity tf #celebtf #body swap #transformation #gay #male body suit #malebody swap #male shapeshift #body switch #character transformation #glen powell #twisters #clothes tf #part 2 #viral

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sinstear · 18 hours ago

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need more sub!vi !!! 😔😩

don’t we all <3

vi’s legs; those legs that are so strong that sometimes you find yourself daydreaming about them, looking at them for far too long, stay twitching and flexing on either side of your waist, widening ever so slightly with each curl of your fingers in her cunt. her chest is flushed, covered in new bites from your teeth and lips and you have the gaul to laugh when she’s biting down on her arm to muffle her whimpers. “you shy, baby?” you murmured.

“m’not shy,” vi huffed but made no effort to remove her arm from her face, not wanting you to see her flushed skin, or the crimson blush down her neck.

“course not, you’re just hiding from me,” you grumbled, leaning your head down and pressing it against her arm. “baby,”

vi removed her grip from the bedsheet and cupped the back of your head, keeping you close to her, but still refused to remove the arm over her. “no,” she gasped, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip when you’re rubbing tight circles on her clit with your thumb.

“my love,” you continued, fucking your fingers into her gently. “my beautiful girl, love of my life,”

“what do you want?”

“for you you look at me.”

her heart flutters at your pet names and she peels her arm away from her face shyly, looking at you with an involuntary pout that has you placing a few kisses on her lips and then on her forehead. “hi,”

“hi, baby.” vi giggles and wraps her arms around your neck. your body is slumped half onto of hers comfortably and you smile against her shoulder at the soft touch of her hand gripping your arm, grinding against your fingers greedily. “that feels good,”

burying your face in her neck, you simply hummed and sucked at her skin, nipping as you went. “good,” you murmured. “i like to make you feel good, makes me feel good.”

your words send a shiver down her spine, and she clenches around your fingers tightly, trying to hide the deep blush that coats her cheeks when your deep chuckle vibrates against her skin and causes her to pinch your shoulder. “don’t laugh at me.”

“m’not laughing,” lie, but she lets it go once you’re slowly, agonisingly slow at that, thrusting your fingers in and out, rhythmically in beat to the pace of her hips. “you’re just cute,”

“cute?” vi scoffed and sunk her nails into your arm. “i’m letting you fuck me, and m’cute?”

lifting your head up from her neck, you smiled lazily at her and nodded your head. “i think you’re always cute, actually. no matter what you do or are doing. i think you’re cute even when you’re riding my fingers or my cock, so,” you trailed off, flashing her another innocent smile.

“you’re insufferable,” she bites, but there’s no malice and anger behind her words. “so goddamn insufferable—” she whimpers and you grin at the sight of her throwing her head back and gripping your wrist tighter. “fuck, fuck you.”

“m’already doing that” you replied cockily, leaning your head down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. your eyes flutter closed with a soft hum when her hand cups the back of your head, keeping you there and a shaky moan slips past her lips.

your fingers slide in and out of her cunt with vigor, her body curls more into yours with each thrust, and her face heats up more and more at the obscene sounds falling from both of you, and between her legs. she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed, not anymore. a long time ago she would have been, but you treat her with care and love, she never had anything to be embarrassed about with you.

clinging onto you with all her might, vi blinks away the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes and throws her head back with a guttural moan. a moan that has you grinning against her cheek and locking her lips in a brushing kiss.

teeth clash, lips smack, and vi really tries to keep up with you, keep up with your movements, she really does but the way your fingers feel inside her, fucking into her with more precision, she pulls away with a gasp and her lips part against yours. not really kissing, but more so for the closeness you both share. “you’re so cute, especially the face you make when you need to cum.” you smiled and pressed your forehead against hers.

blushing at your words, vi bites her lip, her eyebrows furrow cutely and you can’t refrain from kissing all over her face, eliciting another soft giggle from her while her hand reaches up to cup your face. “i love you,” you whispered, leaning into her touch.

vi tenses and your lips are quickly back on hers when she cums. you swallow the soft whines and whimpers that fall, and her hips still continue grinding, fucking herself on your fingers and riding through her orgasm as her fingers almost break skin on your neck. “really wanted to know how long it would take for you to cum just by me saying i love you,” you admitted with a soft smile once you pulled away and rested your head on hers.

“stop,” vi grumbled but whimpered in defeat when you’re carefully removing your fingers from her. slick covered fingers grip her chin, and your eyes darken when her lips suddenly wrap around your thumb. “i love you.” she grins before sucking.

“you’re gonna kill me.”

#♰ mail received #⛧ anonymous #vi x reader #vi x you #vi smut #arcane vi #vi league of legends #violet arcane #violet smut #vi arcane #vi arcane x reader #violet x reader #vi blurb

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traumadumpwriter · 1 day ago

Text

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, explicit sexual assault, violence, EXPLICIT!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

So many people commented on the last one I had to write this part! Thanks for the support it means so much to me. I might make this into a short series, potentially add another few parts but I’m not sure. Let me know what you want to see <3

Part Four:

You'd sobbed so hard into Kie's lap that you could hardly breathe, having to be reminded by your friend to take deep breaths as she tried to calm you down.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me." You'd cried as Kie stroked your hair, her heart breaking at every word.

"Stop apologising, Y/N. Are you hurt anywhere? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"No. No. It's my fault. I'm fine. Please don't hate me." You answered, your words largely incoherent. You weren't even entirely sure what had just happened to land you in your best friend's lap.

"It's not your fault. No one hates you. Ssshh." Kie whispered soothingly, hating Barry with her entirety.

She could see the aggressive conversation happening between JJ and John B outside and Barry's body bleeding beside them. She didn't need to listen to imagine what the boys were saying to each other - JJ no doubt raging and John B trying to calm him down. If you weren't on her lap and needing her care right then, she would've jumped out of the van and beat up Barry herself.

Even without having heard the telling exchange between Rafe and JJ moments prior, your physicality made it clear that something awful and unwilling had happened inside the drug dealer's home. From your desperate sobs and panicked breathing, to your exposed skin and suspicious bruises, to the fact that you could hardly keep your eyes open or string a sentence together. It would be clear to most that someone had given you something too strong for your body to handle and then taken advantage of that.

Pope wheeled your bike into the back of the van and then sat down beside Kie, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your naked legs without saying a single word. You didn't seem to notice his arrival anyway, your face still buried into Kie's lap as you drifted in and out of hysterical consciousness.

"JJ- Is JJ here?" You choked out.

"He's coming. Just go to sleep. He'll be here in a minute." Kie answered softly, eyeing the blonde as he stormed towards the open van door.

He locked eyes with Kie for a second, the rage he was feeling so palpable that she could've sworn she felt heat coming from him, and then with a pained expression he looked at you. His lips puckered sourly and his nostrils flared whilst his gut twisted and ached. Part of him wanted to leap into the van, hold you so tight and never let go. The part of him that wanted to hurt someone was bigger.

As he raced off, John B shouted after him, but quickly gave up, unable to blame the boy for his anger. He too would be wanting to go back to Barry's to really make him regret touching you as soon as he knew that you would be okay.

When the van started moving and you still hadn't heard JJ's voice or felt his touch, your head shot up in a panic, looking to Kie for guidance through blurry eyes.

"Does- Does he hate me?" You whispered.

"No. Of course not. Just go to sleep, Y/N. Everything will be okay." She answered softly, stroking your face with the care of a mother.

You were extremely relieved to be back with your best friend and for her to not be raging at you - as you'd feared she would be. You didn't completely understand the predicament that you were currently in and why Kiera wasn't in fact angry with you. All you knew was that you'd been at Barry's, something bad had happened, JJ had appeared, and now you were in the Twinkie. Nothing was properly processing whilst the drugs and liquor still pumping through your system - it was all just a confusing blur.

It didn't take long for you to pass out again, lying across the worn, leather seats with your head in Kie's lap. John B scooped you up with ease and carried you into the Chateau, tucking you into the guest bed that JJ usually slept in before anything was said between the Pogues. A heavy silence had enveloped them from the moment they started driving, only broken by Kie's angry groan as she stared into the darkness of the sea ahead.

"I can't believe this. We need to call the police. We can't let them get away with this!" She exclaimed, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"We should. But won't that get Y/N in trouble too? I mean, she was there to purchase a controlled substance. That's pretty illegal." Pope stated, stood in front of the porch with his hands on his hips as he paced.

"It'll definitely get her in trouble. I'm fairly certain JJ's dad has done jail time for that exact charge." John B replied, picking up the blunt from the ground that JJ had been smoking earlier and lighting it. He took a drag before he continued. "We should just go back there and fucking kill the guy."

Both Kie and Pope's heads snapped up in surprise at that, expecting that kind of solution from JJ - not his more mature, brunette counterpart. But alas, neither of them could disagree and a heavy silence enveloped the trio again.

Pope spoke after a short while, his mind racing in a desperate bid to make things less fucked up than they had become.

"Maybe they didn't.. you know... maybe they didn't do anything to her. Maybe JJ just interpreted it wrong. I mean, we don't even know what he saw. Maybe he just saw her passed out like that and broke in - assuming the worst."

"Don't act stupid Pope." John B hissed, not even bothering to look up at him as he spoke. "I went in there, I picked her up. There was literal fucking spunk dripping out her underwear... Need to clean the Twinkie and wash those bed sheets."

He mumbled the last part to himself, a sick feeling rising from his gut into his throat as he remembered the state he'd found his friend in. Half conscious, half dressed, in a disheveled drug den, the room stinking of sex and weed, a damp pillow at her head and a fearful gasp as he'd picked her up.

Kie and Pope grimaced at the image he'd painted, a sickness too rising to their throats, and another long silence came over them until Kie spoke with a sigh.

"This is so fucked up... I'm gonna go inside, make sure she doesn't choke on her vomit or anything. Where do you think JJ is?"

The two boys shrugged, a million and one potential answers to that question. All they could do was hope that he hadn't lost his mind too intensely and landed himself in jail, though it would be understandable if he had. They waited up for him for a while, but hours passed and there was still no sign of the blonde returning, so they eventually slinked silently inside too and passed out in their own respective sleeping spots, entirely exhausted.

Meanwhile, JJ had driven to one of the shit-hole bars that his dad tended to frequent and after a few whiskey shots, started a fight with the biggest guy in there. He knew that he wouldn't win it. Maybe that was why he'd picked that fight. A desperate bid to extinguish some of his guilt, to distract himself, to forget the scared cry that you'd let out, to get what he deserved for hurting you.

After that, he'd driven to his house and started a fight with his dad - once again knowing that he wouldn't win it but wanting to punish the closest thing to a physical manifestation of the drugs you loved that he could think of. He'd remembered the knowing eye contact you and Luke had exchanged with each other last year - before JJ had clocked what you'd been using. It made so much sense when he looked back on it, you'd probably bumped into each other at Barry's, or maybe addicts could just sniff each other out with effortless ease. Identity each other like two dogs of the same breed. At the time, he'd just assumed that you recognised him from your shitty bar job, and he'd asked nothing of it - not wanting to speak about his dad any longer than necessary. It had been a quick trip in and out of his house, it never needed to be thought of again. After your overdose, he'd kicked himself for not mentioning it.

As he'd finished throwing his son to the ground, Luke spat "Get the fuck out of here" and slammed the front door shut, leaving JJ in a disheveled heap on the ground.

The boy stayed there for a little while, trying to focus on the pain of his injuries but unable to do so, his mind inevitably racing back to you - a mocking montage that would play on a loop. From your wide mouthed laughter and big, bright eyes, to the little moans you had let out as he'd drunkenly entered you, how beautiful you looked beneath him, all the way back to your limp body on the drug dealers bed, looking like a sad, broken doll.

"Why did I reject her like that? Why did I laugh in her face? What's wrong with me? Why do I destroy everything I love? Why would I think I was protecting her by being cruel? Why didn't I just go back there that night and tell her I love her? What the fuck is wrong with me?" His thoughts span around agonisingly, wrapping around his brain, slithering to his throat and constricting his breathing.

The last stop he made before returning to the Chateau was a hidden spot on the beach - which was empty for miles due to the time. He sat on the boundary between the sand and the sea, letting the salty waves bury his bottom half with his knees pulled up to his chest, and for the first time in a long time - he cried. He didn't cry hard, he didn't let sobs rock his body like he perhaps should've. No - even in his own company he couldn't let himself do that. But he did let streams of wetness fall from his eyes and small sniffles escape his nose, the guilt he'd tried so hard to suppress enveloping him wholly.

He stayed there for hours, planning on returning to you once he felt better. But that feeling never came and he eventually gave up on it, jumping on his bike as the sun started to rise and heading back to the Chateau.

You'd woken up a short while prior, accidentally waking Kie up too as you tried to sneak out of the bed but stumbled into the side and knocked everything off of it. She shot up from her slouched position on the chair beside the bed and looked around in a panic for a second before collecting herself. As she remembered everything that had happened a few hours prior, she found it hard to not cry looking at you.

You felt the same way, though your memory was not as clear - still feeling hazy and confused.

The first thing you said was "I'm so sorry, Kie. I'll get clean again, I promise."

She threw her arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug which you instantly returned, burying your face into her thick hair and trying not to flinch at the unexplained pain you felt all over your body.

"I know you will." She whispered and then pulled away slightly "How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened last night?"

"I don't know. I was at Barry's and now I'm here. How did that happen?"

"JJ found you... Do you really not remember what happened at Barry's?" Kie's voice was so fraught with worry that even in your still inebriated state you knew it was something bad.

You stood and racked your brain for a moment, trying your hardest to put it all together, and then suddenly a few pieces returned to you - foggy and unclear but evident in what they meant. You remembered lying in his bed and silently crying, your face pressed into his pillow as he roughly fucked you from behind. You remembered saying no but being convinced the night before that, and then staying the next day just for it to happen again. You remembered his tight grip around your waist and the invasive feeling of him inside of you before you lost consciousness, actively deciding to disassociate instead of trying to stay awake. You remembered how it was your fault.

A jolt of horror sparked through your body, your face going white and your mouth dropping open. Then another jolt shocked through you as you thought about what Kie had said. "JJ had found you."

"Oh God. What did he see? He must think I'm such a slut." You thought to yourself, suddenly feeling weak.

Your knees buckled and your legs crumpled from beneath you, suddenly landing you on the floor with your head in your hands.

"I fucked up. I-I really fucked up, Kie." You gasped, tears forming.

"How? What do you mean?" She bent down to be at your level. "What that scumbag did to you isn't your fault."

"It is. I- I stayed there. Oh God. What did JJ see? What did you see?"

Would the answers to either of those questions make you feel any better? Probably not. She ignored them and shook her head.

"It's not your fault. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She said softly, holding out her hand for you to take.

You stayed on the floor and caught your breath, swallowing down your cries before you nodded and followed her to the bathroom, only then noticing that you were dressed in just a pair of damp underwear and a sweaty top. You peeled them off and sat in the tub, pulling your knees to your chest whilst Kie put in the plug and turned on the shower head. You didn't flinch at the initial coldness of the water hitting your back, nor the sudden burst of burning hot heat it released before levelling out to a nicer temperature. Your eyes remained fixed on the stained ivory in front of you whilst you mentally combed through all that you could remember from the past forty eight hours. It was strange, it was mostly patches of black, followed by vividly clear moments, followed by third person perspectives of yourself lying in that bed - like you'd somehow left your body. Or perhaps your mind was just trying to fill in the blanks.

"I'm going to get one of the boys to grab you a morning after pill from the pharmacy. Just to be safe... you know? I'll be gone for a minute. Is that okay?" Kie's soft voice momentarily broke you from your silent contemplation and you nodded, another jolt of horror rushing through you as you realised that Barry had in fact cum inside of you, multiple times.

"Had you given him permission to do that? Probably not. But at this point you deserved it and more." You thought to yourself.

The water slowly filled up the tub and more than a minute passed, though you didn't notice either things. Despite your disgust at what had happened, and much to your great shame, you wanted another hit. You wanted to feel anything other than what you were feeling. You wanted to forget about what Barry had done, what you had caused and what JJ had said. Now that you'd sobered up slightly it was playing in your head again - his harsh rejection - and you couldn't decide which trauma had been more embarrassing.

Meanwhile, JJ had just arrived as John B was leaving, and both he and Kie stopped the blonde before he could step into the house - concerned by the bruises and blood he was covered in.

"Dude, what the fuck happened? Where have you been?" John B questioned.

"Doesn't matter. Where's Y/N?"

"She's in the bath." John B answered, putting his hand on JJ's chest and stopping him from walking past "But bro, your face does not look good. Where the hell have you been all night? You didn't go back to Barry, did you? Or bother any kooks?"

"No I didn't go back there, and I didn't bother any kooks! Is she alright?" JJ huffed.

"She's... no she's not alright. I mean- she will be eventually. But right now... I don't know." Kie struggled to think of an answer, not wanting to set off the blonde all over again but not wanting to lie.

JJ nodded slowly and sucked in his lips, taking a deep breath and stressfully running his hand through his hair. He tried to distract himself from the rage that was bubbling up in his gut again.

"Where are you going then?" He turned to John B, who swallowed anxiously.

"The pharmacy. Y/N needs a morning after pill... So um- I should probably go now."

And with that he took off, not wanting to see JJ's reaction to that. The blonde was surprisingly un-reactive though, sucking air sharply through his teeth and taking another deep breath. Kie eyed him nervously, getting ready to launch herself at the boy in an attempt to stop him from jumping on his bike and speeding back to Barry's. A murder charge would not help anyone.

"More violence isn't going to help." She said slowly, like she was verbally defusing a bomb.

JJ looked ready to punch someone, more than that - ready to murder someone. But he stayed calm.

"I know... Do you think she wants to see me, or does she hate me now?"

Kie took a moment to respond, taken back by his uncharacteristic maturity, but when she did she almost scoffed at the obviousness, thinking to herself that at least one good thing could come of this.

"JJ- She's completely in love with you. I think that being with you would probably make her feel a little better right now... Just let her know that you love her too. She needs to know that."

JJ's lips almost allowed a weak smile, nodding at Kie gratefully before making his way into the house and going straight to the bathroom.

You were still in the tub, the water halfway full now, unmoved from the position you'd assumed after you first got in. You didn't look up at the sound of the door opening, nor at the sound of someone sitting on the toilet seat. You did look up however when you heard JJ's voice, confusion followed by shock slowly settling into your bloodstream.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry." He said lowly, taking in your disheveled appearance. "This is all my fault."

Light bruises had started to form on your neck and sides. There were scratches on your back and wine stain bite marks on your chest. But even without those telling remains of a sexual encounter, the damage would've been clear - at least somewhat. A distant look enveloped your eyes - more than just the distance that benzodiazepines gave you, a distance that could only be described as shell shocked - and your eyelids were red and puffy, with tears brimming in the waterline though your expression showed no emotion.

"JJ?" You barely parted your lips to whisper, half convinced that the boy in front of you was a vision concocted by your dissonant brain.

Your voice was so quiet that he didn't hear it over the pouring of the shower, and so he continued his pleading apology.

"I beat the shit out of him. I know that doesn't change anything, and I know it doesn't mean you should forgive me. It doesn't make anything better... I don't even know why I said that. I thought it would make you feel better but that was fucking dumb... I'm just- Jesus what am I even saying. I just want to tell you if there's anything I can do to make you feel better.. even if you want me to just leave you alone.. I'll do it. But I want you to know that I don't want to leave you alone. All of that shit I said at yours the other night- it was fucked up and I didn't mean it."

"JJ." You repeated his name louder, stopping his ramble as you pulled away from your knees.

His face was full of uncharacteristic anxiety, his mouth stopping slightly open and his eyes blinking rapidly, intensely focused onto yours. He didn't know why, but the sound of your voice surprised him.

"Stop... I'm fine." You said, your voice shaking slightly. "It was all my fault. You don't need to be saying all of this. I shouldn't have started using again."

JJ tutted and shook his head.

"Your fault? Don't say that. How could it be your fault?"

You thought of all the reasons that it might be. The fact that you'd been going there to buy drugs. The fact that you didn't try hard enough to stop him. The fact that you stayed there after the first time.

"I... I can't." You breathed out, the tears that had been brewing starting to quietly drip down your face. A tight construction in your chest was stopping you from telling JJ exactly why it had been your fault, as was the loud shame in your head.

JJ quickly moved from the seat to the floor, crouching on the balls of his feet as he leaned in closer to you. He moved one of his hands to cup your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry."

You warmed slightly into his hand, finding the same comfort in it that you had on your drunken nights together. You forgot everything that had happened for a moment, just feeling the loving touch of the boy that you craved so desperately.

"Stop acting like it's a big deal - please. You don’t need to be sorry." You mumbled.

JJ wanted to argue - he wanted to explain exactly why it was a big deal. But he saw how tired and still high you were and decided not to. He instead nodded and whispered "Okay."

A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both. JJ noticed that the water was getting high and turned off the shower, grimacing as he caught sight of the scratches on your back, remembering what he'd heard when he was crouched below the window of that house. Then he remembered what he'd decided out there - that you were his and he would keep you safe forever now. He picked up a soapy sponge and stared to gently wash your back, soothing you immensely. He'd planned on breaking the silence himself with a dramatic confession of his own love, but you beat him to it.

"Who'd you piss off?" You asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.

"I mean your face is all fucked up." You responded, a hint of sarcasm in your tone that brought a small smile to JJ's face.

He chuckled slightly, trying to sound casual though there was an undertone of nerves to his voice.

"I think I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The thought that he might be imaginary once again struck you. You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling of his hand until you were convinced that he was real again.

"I don't know if I believe you." You mumbled, though a slight smile also pulled at the corners of your lips.

JJ moved his washing to your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he spoke.

"I'm serious. I- I've been completely obsessed with you since- well since we first met. That messy night at the Boneyard."

"Every night at the Boneyard is messy." You scoffed and JJ chuckled again.

"True. But I remember you were wearing that little, black skirt, and that white vest that I like.. with your leopard print bikini on underneath… and your hair was still long then."

"I don't even remember what I wore that night... but I remember Kie introducing me to you.. And I remember that Kook you threw your drink on."

A twinge of amusement ran up your spine and for the first time in weeks, you both felt like everything might work out okay. Another comfortable silence enveloped you both, the only sound being the sloshing of the water as JJ continued to gently wash you.

This continued for a short while, calming and peaceful, and you found yourself starting to feel extremely tired again.

"Can we go to bed?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Sure." He smiled, heart fluttering at the innocence of your question.

He pulled the plug out of the tub and rummaged through the laundry basket for a semi-clean towel whilst you washed the soap from your hair and then rose from the draining water. You stumbled slightly out of the tub, JJ surprised by your sudden movement and holding his hands out to catch you. When he started to dry you with the towel, you shook your head and took it from him.

"You don't need to do this. I'm fine." You said with a huff and he shot you an uncertain look.

"Don't treat me all different now. It's not that serious. I'm gonna get sober again." You justified, an ironic slur to your voice.

JJ wanted to argue but decided not to again. You weren't in the right state of mind - there was no point. But for you to say it wasn't that serious; it worried JJ.

He forced a smile though, only wanting to continue comforting you.

"I know you'll get sober again. I believe you. It was just a little slip up, right?"

You nodded, wrapping the towel around your body and heading towards the door before accidentally dropping it. Both of you giggled at that and JJ rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'll go get you some pyjamas. Just to be safe." He grinned, unable to not admire your body even when he was trying not to.

When he stepped out of the bathroom door and swiftly headed into his room, he was confused to see that John B was changing the sheets.

"What are you doing?" JJ asked as John B pulled on the last corner of the new cover.

John B was quick to notice that JJ's previous expression of solemn doom had turned into a more relaxed one.

"We'll talk later bro. The pill is on the side. Does she need anything? Maybe something to eat?"

"Nah she just wants to sleep. If she needs anything I can get it. But thanks dude."

They exchanged a meaningful smile before JJ grabbed a baggy top from his wardrobe and a pair of boxer shorts and then headed back into the bathroom. You put the clothes on and headed straight to his bed, flopping yourself onto the fresh sheets and curling up immediately, ready to sleep like a baby.

JJ needed to wash realistically - dried blood and sea water on various patches of his body - but he couldn't resist the allure of having your body tucked safely against his once he saw how comfortable you'd gotten. So he peeled off his clothes and crawled in beside you, holding you closely against him and inhaling the scent of your hair.

You loved being cuddled by JJ, there weren't many things that could beat it. The way he held you like he needed you filled the empty void inside of you without fail every time.

He kissed the back of your head, holding his lips there for a while before pulling away and whispering "I really do love you."

You were too tired to respond, just about to drift into the realm of complete unconsciousness. But a smile formed on your face nonetheless before you dropped into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

I just want to say that the doubt this character experiences around their assault is just representative of how I felt after my own and in no way reflects the way that anyone should have to feel. If you’ve been through this or something similar I just want to say it wasn’t your fault. My DMs are always open if u need it <3

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crowsofdarkness · 3 days ago

Text

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Eight

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

There is slight smut in this chapter(oral with female receiving and slight pinv)

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

The rays of the sun broke through the small opening of the curtains, blanketing warmness over Bucky and I as we laid in bed. I had been awake for a while now, simply staring at him, heart swelling in adoration and love. We’d been sharing a bed the last couple of nights, both needing the sense of security from one another. All we would do was lay in each other's arms, that’s it. Even though we were getting close again, I didn’t want to jump right back into everything until I felt I was ready to.

Bucky’s hair was falling into his eyes so I gently brushed it away, the urge to kiss his plump lips was unbearable. I leaned on my elbow to stare down at him, a soft snore sounding from his mouth.

As if he felt me staring, Bucky’s eyes slowly opened with a very large smile appearing on his face when we noticed me staring.

He snuggled closer to his pillow. “Hm, good morning, doll.”

“Morning,” I smiled back.

His vibranium arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer into him. I rested my head against his chest and hooked my leg around his waist, locking him into place. This is what our mornings had been spent the last couple of days before Bucky locked himself in his office at home for the day, trying to find more leads on Clint or Natasha.

Absolutely nothing. It was as if they dusted away, their lives almost forgotten.

“Are you busy tonight?” Bucky asked while rubbing my back.

I couldn't help but snicker at his question. He knew that with the hit on me, I refused to leave the house alone. To be honest, I rarely left his house this past week, not wanting to risk anything. There was no way Bucky would let me leave by myself anyway.

“I think my schedule is open,” I joked with a smile while looking up at him. “Why?”

“Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

My breath caught in my throat. “Like a date?”

Bucky could feel the way my body tensed in his embrace so he gave my hip a soft squeeze. “Whatever you want to call it; a date or two friends getting dinner.”

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, debating the offer around in my mind for a few minutes.

“How about we start it off as friends and see where it goes?” I suggested.

He smiled, brushing his lips across the top of my head. “As long as you're comfortable, Y/N.”

My laughter bounced off the small confines of Bucky’s car as he drove us back home, our dinner replaying in my mind over and over. It had been so long since I had someone do everything Bucky did tonight and my heart was swimming.

It started with him renting a small section of the restaurant for us, him pulling out my chair for me, and the table had a very large bouquet of black roses; my favorite. He already had a set menu for tonight, knowing what I liked, and when we talked he let me talk endlessly as I told him about me; things he didn't know. Not once did he interrupt, only kept his bright eyes on me the entire time.

Bucky then divulged into his own life growing up and I learned so many things about him that surprised me. Our hands were linked on his lap under the table the entire time, his vibranium thumb pressing light circles on my skin.

He pulled the car to a stop at a red light then looked over at me. “Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?”

I smiled, my hand resting behind his neck, fingers playing with the end of his hair.

“Once or twice.”

The car started to move again but I could tell that Bucky was still upset with what happened tonight so I placed my other hand on his knee.

“You know you could have asked Steve or Sam to hang around. That way you wouldn't be so on edge at some points,”I said.

“I didn’t like the way the waiter kept staring at you. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t try something,” Bucky said while gripping the wheel a bit too hard. “I can take care of you, Y/N.”

I bit back a laugh. “It could be the fact that the dress I chose was a bit too short.”

His eyes were laced with darkness as they quickly grazed over my form, slowly licking his lips. I felt my body ignite under his gaze so I shifted in my seat, the air shifted around us and I suddenly wanted to feel him all over me again.

We arrived back at his house before I knew it and neither of us made an effort to leave the car, only staring deeply at each other. Our breathing synced as Bucky lifted my chin up towards him.

“So was this a date?” Bucky’s voice was gentle, quiet.

I nodded without hesitation. “This was the best date I had been on in a very long time. Thank you, Bucky.”

“Anything for you, doll,” he breathed over my lips.

The Bucky that I had been around the last few days was different from the one from months ago. He was more attentive towards me, sweet, and willing to take everything slow. All the anger I felt for him had vanished long ago, my love for him outweighing all the bad.

I was done taking it slow.

“Bucky?” My voice husked.

His shoulders shivered. “Yea?”

My tongue rolled over my bottom lip, it got caught between my teeth.

“Did you want-.”

I was cut off by his phone ringing but Bucky ignored it. “Not important.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Doll,” he leaned closer to me. “You’re the only thing that matters to me right now.”

Without a second thought, I crashed my lips to his and he wasted no time either by lifting me into his lap, the steering wheel digging into my back. I scratched and pulled at his hair, doing whatever I could to deepen the kiss. His tongue tangled with mine and I moaned into his mouth when his vibranium hand squeezed my ass to bring our hips closer together.

I leaned my head back when Bucky began biting and sucking at the sweet spot of my neck, our movements becoming familiar with each other all over again. He remembered exactly where to touch or kiss that would set me off, in the most euphoric way.

My name fell from Bucky’s lip when I started to rut my hips into his, trying to scratch that itch I felt almost everyday since we came back into each other's lives.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I asked breathlessly from our kiss.

Bucky didn't answer, only kicked open the car door and carried me inside the house. We were so engrossed with each other that the text message from Baron Zemo that interrupted us before went unread.

“Oh, Bucky,” I moaned, nails scratching and pulling at his hair.

His moans were swallowed by the lips between my legs, his tongue pressing circles on my sweetest spot. I hooked both of my legs around his neck, almost smothering him. Bucky didn’t complain once, only kept his actions up, moving even faster.

I lifted my hips up from the bed as my orgasm washed over me without warning and cried out his name over and over again in praise.

Bucky didn’t bother waiting for the white haze to pass from my eyes before he hooked my leg over his hip and buried his dick between my folds. I clenched around him and he let out the most guttural moan which made my eyes flutter shut.

“I missed this so-,” he slid his dick out but left the tip in.“-fucking much.”

With a hard snap of his hips, he began to move them erratically, his pace unforgiving and unruly. It was what exactly I needed, my nails grasping at anything I could reach. The sheets of the bed, the skin of his back. Anything.

“Bucky,” I breathed.

He buried his face in my neck. “I miss the way you say my name. The way you touch.”

I whined at the sudden emptiness as Bucky dragged his soaked cock from me to roll me onto my knees. My ass was raised up towards him, ready for whatever he was about to do.

A hard smack of skin against skin bounced off the walls in tangent my screams when Bucky smacked my ass.

He leaned behind me, his warm breath cascading over my ear. “I miss the way you fuck. The way you taste.”

I pressed back into dick, the precum and my own sweet arousal dragging all over the back of my thigh.

“Please,” I begged. “I need you, Bucky. I need to feel you again.”

“Doll, you never have to beg me for it. Never again.”

We shared a moan as he slipped between my folds again.

Snores filled the room as our sweaty bodies were tangled together, not bothering to cover ourselves with any covers. We had come down from our high a while ago, both of us collapsing to the bed short of breath. Bucky had me locked against his chest, vibranium arm over my stomach.

Tonight had felt like we never missed a beat, everything between us becoming second nature. The only difference was that Bucky didn’t have to leave, we could stay as long as we wanted together. There wasn’t the lingering regret or shame that we would feel after a night spent together. We didn’t get the chance to talk about us, exhaustion taking over us almost immediately. But there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that things would be different between us.

For the better.

That was until the sudden thirst woke me and I let out a small yawn while doing my best to untangle myself from him.

Bucky whined while gripping me tighter. “Where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty,” I giggled.

He left a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Hurry back. I’ll miss you.”

I laughed at the tone of his voice and gave him a quick kiss before slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts.

Not bothering to turn on any lights in the kitchen, I rummaged through the fridge in search of something to drink. That was until I felt a strong arm around my throat, yanking me away and tossing me onto the hard, cold ground. My head smacked against the floor as I let out a strangled scream, feeling hands around my throat now. Fear filled my eyes as I looked up and saw a vicious smile looking down at me.

“Cl-clint?” I choked out.

“Miss me?”

Before I could fight against him, he knocked me unconscious with a swift punch to the side of my head.

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