#And when I wasn't busy I was passing out in bed

[zorosangell]

I NEED pit pt2 ! GIVE ZORO HIS GIRL BACK!!! 😤😔

⛥ﾟ・。 boxers

synopsis: part two of pit -- zoro saves your life (ish) and finally finds the courage to win you back

cw: fluffy fluff with a dash of angst, comfort, ZORO IS DOWN BAD, kinda grovels ig, but like as he should, reader kinda stands on business (not really tho).

a/n: been a minute y'all <3 happy to see you guys again

"For fuck's sake," Zoro groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes as the loud, frenzied moans of Nami's booty call slithered through the walls.

Was she fucking killing him?

Audibly, the man was shoved against the headboard, letting out a surprised string of groans as the navigator continued her assault, doing whatever it was she did that had men begging her not to leave whatever island they were docked at.

Of course, she never obliged; but that never stopped her from robbing them blind, each and every one practically handing over their valuables at the sight of her shy smile.

It was almost laughable.

Zoro couldn't wrap his head around the poor bastards who found themselves so besotted so easily.

She was just a woman.

Hell, she was just a person.

No different from any other stranger you'd pass on the road.

...Right?

With an annoyed sigh, the swordsman dragged a calloused hand over his face, staring at the ceiling of his dark room with a knowing look.

Then again, it was just a woman that had made the last month of his life a living hell.

Or rather... her absence.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the inn bed, he glanced over at the nightstand, snatching up his day-old glass of water and taking a large swig.

By the severe lack of light flowing in through the window, he could tell it was still the wee hours of the morning, despite the fact he felt he'd been up for years.

But lately, that was how every night went.

'Cut it out.'

Without hesitation, Zoro dropped to the ground, completely ignoring the empty cup on the floor as he caught himself in a plank, starting up his push-ups.

He could do this.

He could work through this.

He just had to give himself a little more time.

With a grunt of discomfort, his lips tightened into a taut line, ignoring how the weight felt off without a certain someone sitting on his back, and how his count felt too correct without a familiar voice chatting his ear off.

Shaking his head, the swordsman trained his gaze on the floor below him, brows cinching slightly with frustration.

'Cut. It. Out.'

In retaliation, images of your smiling face flashed through his mind, so sudden that it early made him drop himself.

God, if this wasn't pathetic, he didn't know what was.

Your big breakup with the ship's first mate was a little over a month ago, and despite Zoro's fervent efforts to forget, your words had plagued him from the moment you stepped off the deck.

"IT'S WHAT YOU DON'T DO, ZORO!"

"Every time I look at you, I feel more alone."

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

His chest ached at the broken tone of your voice, just as painful as when he first heard it.

All that time he had spent fighting off danger, working to keep you as far away from it as possible, it turned out he was the one that had been hurting you he most.

That fucked with him more than he cared to admit.

How could he have not seen the signs?

How could he have not seen how much he was hurting you?

How could he have ever forgotten anything about you?

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

"Am I... just that forgettable?"

Suddenly, Zoro's nose scrunched, a harsh stench snatching him from his self-loathing thoughts.

It smelled like... smoke.

In an instant, the swordsman's eye snapped open, darting around the room to see greyish-black fumes billowing in from under the door.

Sifting through his you-induced haze, he forced his brain to sort through all the pieces.

Early morning.

Smoke.

And shouting that had finally managed to bleed through the walls.

'(y/n)!'

Frantically, Zoro scrambled to his feet, still in his boxers and nothing else as he snatched up his swords and practically ripped the door open.

And the moment he did, he was met with utter chaos.

Inn workers rushed past carrying large buckets of water while other patrons shouted over the dark clouds of smoke, rushing down the hallway in frantic attempts of escape.

"Zoro, the building's on fire!" Chopper exclaimed from Robin's shoulder, arms wrapped around her neck as she tried to follow the crowd toward the stairs.

"We need to leave! Quickly!" the woman added, expression slightly tainted by worry.

"I don't know why you waste your time with these assholes, Nami-swan," Sanji grumbled, one hand holding hers while the other dragged the bastard she was robbing by the scruff of his neck, his face severely bruised. "The hell you standing around for, mosshead?! We gotta move!"

"Luffy and the others went on ahead! So come on!" Nami barked through her cloth mouth-covering.

"Where's (y/n)?!" Zoro asked, frantically.

The four froze in their tracks, the color instantly draining from their faces.

"She's not with you?!"

You had been avoiding the swordsman like the plague after the incident.

If he was honest, he doubted you would ever even look in his direction again, much less come to his side in a crisis.

Those days were over...

'SHIT!'

"Head outside! I'm goin' back for her!" he barked, roughly pushing through the sea of people to get to your room.

"Zoro, wait!" Chopper exclaimed.

"That half of the building completely ablaze!" Robin called. "Be careful!"

"I don't care if you burn to death trying, you better bring her back safely, moss for brains!" Sanji spat, Nami quickly moving to drag him toward the staircase.

Their noise went in one ear and out the other as he charged down the hall, expression wild with worry as he attempted to reign in his thoughts from your burning corpse to just you.

From the flow of the smoke, he could tell it was coming from the direction of your room, though he wasn't sure where.

But the thought only quickened his pace.

The further he trekked, the thicker the smoke got, and the harder it became to breath, his nose in the crook of his elbow doing little to shield his lungs.

"(y/n)!" he shouted over the distant, roaring flames. "C'mon, (y/n), sound off! (y/n)!"

His heart felt like it was in his ass, bile tearing at his throat like a raging river.

If something happened to you...

If you died with the terms you two left on...

If you died without allowing him to say all the things on his mind...

He'd never forgive himself.

"Fuck! (y/n)!" Zoro shouted, a cold shiver running down his spine despite the rising heat. "(y/n)!"

After what felt like a millennia, he finally reached the door to your room, frantically jiggling the handle only to find it was locked.

Blood rushed through his ears at the thought of you inside, so much so that he didn't even register the singeing burn of the metal against the palm of his hand.

"(y/n)! (y/n), open the door!"

And then he hears it.

Your small, faint voice, thick with exhaustion and fatigue.

"Zo... ro!"

"I'm comin', baby! Move out the way!"

Without hesitation, he drew his sword, winding up with practiced ease.

"Zoro, no!"

"108 Caliber Phoenix!"

In an instant, the door was gone, but the swordsman was more concerned with the familiar face running toward him.

Your silhouette emerged from the smokey air, clad in nothing but the thinnest tank top known to man, and a small pair of Nami's shorts.

Utterly relieved, you collided with his solid frame, arms wrapping around him like a vice as if he'd disappear if you let him go.

"(y/n)," he huffed into your ear, his arms find home around your waist like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. "You came back in here? The hell were you thinkin'?"

His words were angry, but tone so soft as his hand traveled to the back of your head to pull you further into him.

Smoothly, his free hand hooked under your thighs, effortlessly scooping you up and carrying out the building as it burned to the ground.

Finally outside, the two of you stood with each other, silently, as Robin conversed with the inn keeper about the start of the blaze.

The both of you were quite a sight.

Zoro, covered in soot, hair mussed from tossing and turning, in nothing but his black boxers.

You, covered in soot, hair wild from tossing and turning, in nothing but a thin shirt and tiny shorts.

Though you, in particular, seemed to be what the male population outside were more fond of.

And, of course, your swordsman took notice almost instantly.

"You guys need somethin'?" the words spilled from his lips like venom, his grip on his scabbard tightening ever so slightly as he shifted his stance to shield you from the eyes of a nearby group of men.

They were standing not too far away, gawking at you as if you were some sort of attraction at a fair.

And under the infamous glare of the pirate hunter, they all scurried away like startled deer, earning an annoyed scoff from the mosshead before he returned his gaze straight—all while still taking his mandatory glance at you every minute or so.

Somehow, you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you, the ginormous bonfire sitting in front of you painting your face with beautiful red and orange light.

Maybe it was relief.

Maybe it was his guilt.

He wasn't sure.

But what he was sure of was that he needed to get off what was on his chest before it was too late.

"That was stupid," he started, curtly, as he turned to you. "Comin' back in for me like that. You could've gotten hurt... or worse."

You exhaled sharply out of your nose, slowly shifting to face him.

"I was already out here when the others told me you'd stayed behind to go look for me. I couldn't let you do that 'cause God knows you wouldn't have come out unless you dragged me from the flames with you."

"You're damn right, I wouldn't have," he replied, sharply, though without an ounce of malice in his voice. "But the difference between you and me is that I can take it."

"Oh, that's the difference? I can't take it?" your brow arched, harshly, as you poked his bare chest. "I'm not some delicate flower, Zoro. I can take care of myself. You forfeited all right to do that for me a few weeks ago."

"You know I don't give a damn about rights, (y/n)," Zoro scoffed, shifting his weight on his feet. "I give a damn about you not burning to death."

"Little late for that..." you mumbled under your breath, though Zoro had heard loud and clear.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"Hey," he started, pointedly, grabbing onto your arm with a soft yet firm touch. "Look, I know I'm an asshole, but no matter how much you refuse to believe it... I care about you. I care a whole damn lot."

He sighed, taking a deep breath.

"I know I didn't show it well when we were together, but that's not something that's gonna change 'cause of where we're at right now."

Your eyes widened slightly, surprised by the sudden, vulnerable confession.

It was completely out of character for him, and the way he raked an anxious hand through his green hair let you know that he knew it, too.

"(y/n), I... you..." he stumbled, tone rising with frustration toward himself. "I fucked up... I fucked up a lot. I took a good thing for granted and didn't know it until you were gone."

His eyes found yours, the sheer sincerity and regret in his iris nearly knocking you over.

The sudden urge to hug the swordsman overtook your hands, your fingers twitching to reach out to him.

But you knew better, and given the circumstances it was almost laughable that he'd be the one needing comfort.

"(y/n)... you mean the world to me... and more than anything, I want you to be happy... even if that happiness is because I'm gone," Zoro stated, not a single waver in his voice as his calloused hand carefully slid into yours, caressing your skin with such a reverence you'd think you were fine china.

It forced a swell of warmth to radiate through your stomach, spreading all the way down to your toes.

His touch felt like coming home, a feeling that scared you to no end, but granted you immense solace nonetheless.

Not a day went by without you missing him, missing what you both used to be, and not a night without you wishing he was still by your side.

"I don't expect forgiveness. And I refuse to ask it of you," he continued, glancing down at your conjoined hands with a wistful look. "But if there's anything I want you to know... it's that I'm sorry... and that I love you."

A small gasp left your lips, his words nearly striking you dumb.

You were almost certain the word "sorry" wasn't in his vocabulary...

"And no matter where you go... or who else you may turn to... know that I'll always be here for you whenever you need me."

At that, he released your hand, the sudden coldness burning more than any flame could.

This wasn't what you wanted.

Hell, none of this was.

You knew what you wanted.

You'd known this whole time.

And now it had finally said the words you'd been waiting for it to say for over a month.

Feeling dismissed by your stunned silence, Zoro's expression turned emotionless, and he turned to go take a walk, or find some sake bottle to drown his sorrows in—whichever came first.

But before he could step away, you quickly grabbed his arm, spinning him back around before futility slamming your fists on his chest, not fazing him in the slightest.

"Damn it! I don't want to turn to anyone else!" you huffed, looking up at him with glassy eyes. "I want you, you asshole! ...But you just can't seem to get it through that thick head of yours."

Without warning, you flicked him harshly on the forehead, earning a sharp wince.

"OW! The hell was that for?!"

"You're stupid... arrogant... and rude. You have no manners, the mouth of a sailor, and the blood-lust of a demon from hell," you listed, your hand coming up to tenderly cup his cheek in your palm, the man leaning into your touch almost instantly.

You felt so soft...

And your words only brought back memories of playful nights bickering.

God, how could he have gone a month without this?

"But I love you... so much... and I can't imagine anyone else by my side... not even if I tried."

Zoro's eyes widened slightly at your confession, but in them laid a small flicker of hope.

One you faintly recognized.

"Zoro... if we do this again... it can't be the same..." you warned, resting your hands on his chest. "I can't go through all that another time, and I won't. 'Cause at the first sign, I'm walking away."

"You have my word," he promised, as if it was an irrefutable fact, resting his firm hand over your soft one, which sat above his heart. "If you ever do, you have full permission to kill me."

"Cute you think I need permission for that," you chuckled, playfully raising your brow. "You should be more worried about who gets to you first: me or Nami?"

The man shivered at the thought, cracking a small smile at your amused expression.

Leaning down, he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, deciding against the option of your lips in favor of taking things slow.

He didn't want to overwhelm you.

"Point taken."

Effortlessly, he scooped you up, relishing in your tiny squeak, as well as the feeling of your arms snaking around his neck.

For the first time in thirty-six days, the world felt right, and his chest felt whole.

The hold you had on the swordsman was almost terrifying; but, he'd be damned if he let anything loosen it ever again, himself included.

So, he started the trek back to the Sunny, fighting off the grin threatening to break onto his face as you rested your head against his chest.

"Now... let's get you into somethin' a little warmer. Gonna get sick like this."

"Zoro, you're in your underwear..."

"And?"

"I—y'know what? ...Nevermind."

[milliesfishes]

Heyyy Millie!

Can we get a coryio as a boy dad fic?

Bc I looooved the girl dad ones smmm

<33

But don’t write it if you are too busy :)

I hope you have a wonderful dayyyy

this took an angsty turn hehe <3 ౨ৎ꣑ৎhaving a baby boy with coriolanus౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

Not a single inch of Coriolanus' body was in motion. The blur of the air was thick, choking him from the inside out. For a second, his mind lapsed, and he wasn't sure if he was real.

Then it all came back at once. The shriek of a new life, the mutter of the doctors pushing him out of the way and attending to you, unmoving on the bed. There was a mess of crimson between your limply spread legs, and the color he'd loved so much on you before suddenly had him feeling faint.

He couldn't take his eyes off your face. You were pale as a sheet, looking almost like a stranger even though he could map out every detail of your face without looking. A nurse had the sense to guide him away, placing something wrapped in blankets in his arms, which suddenly became stiff enough to hold it.

"Here," she said softly. "Just sit with him for a minute. It'll be okay."

Coriolanus barely registered what she said, wearily looking down. The face of a squirming baby greeted him, and it hit him all at once. His son. He was a father.

The future was stretched out in front of him, only one sure thing in it. He hated that it wasn't you.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there outside the door, blankly holding his newborn. In Coriolanus' life, there had been very few things that he knew were certain, but he'd thought you being here was one. His success had made him sloppy, his money, reckless. Now you were on death's doorstep because he'd become greedy, wanting more and more of you until it killed you. Had his mother's death taught him nothing? Another mouth to feed wasn't worth losing you.

Mulling it over, the last thing he wanted was to be holding the product of his failure. He looked around desperately, but nobody was in sight. The baby in his arms was still wriggling, cries softening.

The same nurse came out to tell him. It was a close call, but you were stable. You were okay. The relief that poured over his heart lifted some of the weight from his shoulders, and everything he'd considered while imagining a life without you evaporated into thin air.

Passing the baby off to the nurse, he went in to see you straightaway, ignoring the doctor's mention that you wouldn't be conscious for awhile. He needed to see you breathing, receive confirmation that you were alive and you would stay that way.

Time meant nothing when he was at your side. He watched you sleep, stayed at your side while the nurses changed the sheets and produced a fresh nightdress for you. The doctor left behind a list of instructions, and Coriolanus assured him that he'd call if there were any further problems.

He was right there when you woke, blinking sleepily and wincing at the leftover ache of childbirth. You looked around confusedly, and he reached for your hand, squeezing it lightly. "Darling."

"The baby," you muttered, trying to sit up.

Gently, he reached out his arm, guiding you to lay down again. "Easy. He's fine." Coriolanus moved closer, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

You winced as you shifted, eyes widening in joy. "He? We have a baby boy?"

"Yes," he said, frowning as he studied you. "Where does it hurt, sweetheart?"

"I want to see him," you said softly, looking up into his eyes. "I want to see our son."

"Later," he promised, getting up to sit on the side of the bed, fluffing your pillows and using a guiding hand to rest your head there again. "You need to rest."

"Coryo." He paused, reluctantly meeting your gaze again. "I've been resting for the past month. I want to see him."

Looking at you, worn out from birth and pleading with him, he who should be giving you whatever you wanted, there was no way he could deny this request. You deserved to see what you'd nearly lost your life to have.

So, with a sigh, he went to the nursery, where the baby was being supervised by the nurse he'd hired. You'd said it was unnecessary, having wanted to do all of the work yourself, but now he was glad he'd insisted.

Bringing the baby back, Coriolanus deposited him carefully into your arms, watching your eyes light up. Swaying back and forth, you hummed softly, smiling when your baby boy made a happy little noise.

"He's so beautiful," you whispered, tracing a finger down his little face. "Oh..." Finally, you looked up at him again, nearly glowing. "He looks just like you, Coryo."

Nodding, Coriolanus forced a smile, itching to whisk the baby back to the nursery so he could care for you properly. "Sweetheart, it's time for you to rest."

Your brow furrowed when he reached for the bundle in your arms. "He can stay."

Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek. "The doctor said you need to sleep uninterrupted, darling. You can spend as much time as you want with the baby tomorrow."

Reluctantly, you surrendered at the mention of doctor's orders. When he returned from the nursery again, you were sleepy, trying to keep your eyes open as you rested your head on your pillow.

Stripping himself down for bed, Coriolanus carefully positioned himself under the covers with you, stroking your shoulder when you curled into him, coming to attention when you winced. "What hurts?"

"I'm just a little sore," you managed, sighing when he set a heavy hand on your back, rubbing each tender spot. "I'm okay."

"Shh," he soothed, guiding your head to lay on his chest. "We'll get you some more medicine after you sleep."

He managed to work you into rest, draping you over his chest and thanking deities when you stayed that way. In the morning, he woke before you, using the breathy moments of the early hours to watch you, assure himself that his love was alive and well.

The very second you awoke, you were asking about the baby, pleading with Coriolanus to bring the cradle closer to you. He bent, staying at your side while you held your son, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His name had been chosen months ago, though neither of you had known the gender. Martius. A good, strong name, you'd both decided. You were whispering it as you held him to your chest, kissing his forehead and rocking him back and forth.

It was sweet. He never could have foreseen how much more he would love you as a mother. With the child you'd carried and nurtured that hadn't been real to him until this moment. Coriolanus found himself winding his arm around you, suddenly wanting to hold you. He forced himself to look down at Martius, stunned to his core once again. You were right. He was the spitting image of Coriolanus. Except for his eyes. The color right now was similar to his own, but the shape was so precisely you.

He kissed the side of your head, every touch still careful. You'd had your medicine, but he wasn't sure if you were still hurting. You leaned back against the pillows, smiling when he pulled the blanket up over your legs. "I'm okay, you know?"

"Yes," he lied, your screaming still echoing between his ears. Trying not to shiver, he smoothed a hand up and down your arm.

It was quiet for a moment, and then you looked up, brow furrowing as you did. "Have you held him yet?"

"I did," he said, leaving out the circumstances. "Do you need a break? I can put him back in the cradle-"

"No," you assured, shaking your head. "I just...you haven't asked to."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Coriolanus promised. "You wanted to hold him."

"But I want you to hold him," you said, sitting up and moving to give him the baby. He shook his head, and you frowned, searching his eyes. "What's the matter?"

The way you were looking at him made him feel like you already knew. Still, he tried to maintain the mask that had never worked once with you. "Everything's fine, I promise."

"Coryo." He almost melted. Your eyes were wide, and he felt as though he could fall headfirst into them. If Martius' eyes ended up being the same color as yours, he was in for it.

His shoulders slumped. He kept his eyes on your shoulder. "When they made me leave the room, they gave him to me."

"Oh," you said softly. He dared to look at your face. You reached out, squeezing his wrist, and he wanted to hide in your shelter. "Coryo." The repetition of his name was softened now. "I'm here. I'm okay."

"You were dying," he countered, shaking his head. "It was my fault. And he..." It was something he could never admit out loud. But you knew instantly, your grip on his wrist moving to his cheek. He leaned into your touch, letting the mask slip down.

"This is not your fault." You were looking into his eyes, shaking your head just slightly. "Coryo he's perfect. I would do it all over again."

"I couldn't lose you," he breathed, reaching both hands up to hold your face. His thumbs found your cheeks, moving up and down. "Sweetheart I couldn't do it again."

You breathed out, quieting for just a moment. Then you shifted Martius in your arms. "I want you to hold him, Coriolanus. Please."

There wasn't any way he could have said no. Not when he'd let this piece of himself slip, revealing a memory he knew he was ashamed of. The wound of almost losing you was fresh, and he'd tried to cover it before you could see.

He silently held out his arms, and you slid Martius into them. Coriolanus was surprised to find his arms knew exactly what to do. For a moment he was worried the baby would cry, but he only cooed, shifting comfortably against him.

It was like a sunrise. At first a flicker, and then a light rising from within. It was real to him in this moment, in the quiet of the room with his healing wife there next to him. You were beaming, cheek to his shoulder as you watched Martius settle. It was as if you were feeling it with him. Your hand was on his elbow by your son's head, and you reached up to kiss his cheek.

There was something constricting his throat as he stared down at his little boy. He tried to find his words again. "I..." Was it an apology on his lips? A declaration, maybe. But of what? Never in his life had he been at such a loss.

You hummed softly, snuggling against his side. "I know." Pressing your lips to his shoulder, you rubbed your fingers over his arm. "I know."

[ficsbyabby]

Mornings After a Mission

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female!Reader

Warnings: nothing, could be interpreted as implied smut but it doesn't have to be

Words: 1194

a/n: This is for @omgrachwrites 1k follower celebration! I chose the prompt "Stop moving and let me braid your hair!" Check it out; this girl rules! And thanks for the love on the last post!!

Russian is google translate, so my apologies. Feel free to leave a correction if this is wrong!

милый= darling

дорогой= sweetheart

It was the morning after a mission. You had gotten back late last night, and with the debriefing and how gross you felt, you hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Nat. You had recently started dating, and while you weren't to the point of sleeping together, you usually talked to her before bed and gave her a kiss. Stretching (and wincing when you realized how sore you were), you got up in search of Nat and maybe, breakfast.

In the kitchen of the common floor, Nat was feeling guilty. The mission had been rough. You had gotten hit pretty good by a couple of agents, and she had been busy trying to get to the hard drive, so she hadn't been able to check on you. She knew you were tough; it wasn't about that. Nat wasn't used to this feeling, the way she felt about you. She had fallen head over heels for the newest avenger, this girl fresh out of the SHIELD academy, the one who bounced on the balls of her feet when shown a new weapon. You were pure, something Nat wasn't used to. So here she was, attempting to make your favorite breakfast, planning out a day with you.

You shuffled into the kitchen, yawning. You were so focused on getting coffee that you hadn't noticed your girlfriend standing at the stove. What you did notice was your coffee, made the way you liked, set in your favorite mug, already on the counter. Looking up, you grinned.

"Nat! Thank you, my saviour!" you gushed dramatically.

"You're welcome, I wasn't able to check on you last night, милый, so I'm making up for it." she replied, snorting a little at your theatrics.

"There isn't anything to make up for! I didn't come to see you either! And check up on me? I'm a big girl, I'm fine!"

"Too bad, I'm spending the day with you. We're doing the dorky couple stuff, movie, dinner, whatever you want." Nat answered, ignoring your protest at her checking up on you.

"Whatever I want? I've got some thinking to do." you considered your options.

"Whatever you want, дорогой."

"Okay, first I want you to not burn the tower down trying to make... that." you told her, scrunching your nose up at the smell of burning.

Natasha whipped around, groaning at the burnt mess she had created. Scraping away what was meant to be a nice breakfast, she was grateful for her forethought to have a backup. Slipping away to her room (the greatest hiding spot, no one went into her room), she returned quickly, proudly holding a box of donuts from that little place down the road from the tower. You smiled and took your favorite from the box, happily eating.

"Donuts! Thanks, Red!" Tony exclaimed, walking in, much too peppy for this early and going for the box.

"Nope!" Nat answered, swiping it before Tony could get it, "These are for y/n."

"Come on! This is my tower, share the donuts!" he argued, a pout forming on his face.

Grinning at the exchange, you passed Tony a donut. Though Nat groaned outwardly at the action, inside, she was beaming. This was why she loved you. You were so kind to everyone. She expected this to happen, which was why there were more donuts stashed away. She retrieved them and set them on the counter as more avengers filled the common room. After a few minutes of quiet, filled with the sounds of eating and the occasional groan, Tony suddenly spoke up.

"So why does y/n get donuts? We were all on that mission!"

"Because y/n's her girl, that's what you do." Steve answered.

"That's right! We're spending the day together doing that coupley stuff so don't you dare call me down to the lab because you accidentally blew yourself up! Call dum-E.," you told Tony.

"Ooh, Red and y/n/n are going to be gross today. Thanks for the warning." Tony snarked back. "And I certainly will not call Dum-E. I like the building intact.

Nat shook her head, a fond smile on her lips. The rest of breakfast was filled with similar exchanges. You and Tony could go head to head for hours. You were the only one on the team that could match Tony without ending up in a snit for hours afterward, a trait Natasha and the rest of the team admired.

Soon the group dispersed. With a day off, the team had the freedom to do whatever they pleased. When you and Nat were the only ones left, you both started on cleaning up. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you started talking.

"So let's definitely watch a movie. Maybe one of those silly rom-coms, and then we can go out for lunch. That can be your choice because I am not deciding everything we do. After that, we'll change into pajamas and do absolutely nothing. Take-out for dinner in one of our rooms if we want to be alone, or we can see what the rest of the team is doing."

"Sounds good, дорогой. But for lunch let's just go for a walk until we spot something that we want. Just a nice casual day." Nat replied.

"Awesome!"

With a plan in place, you finished cleaning up the mess that the Avengers tended to leave when eating and made your way to the movie room. Snuggled up next to Nat, you put on some cheesy movie and relaxed. An hour into it, you got bored; after all, you were used to being busy. You brightened up as you got an idea.

"Tasha, can I braid your hair? My hands need to do something." you whined at her.

This was a pretty big request. Natasha was quite proud of her hair. It was always perfect, something you were quite jealous of. You expected her to say no, for her to take your hands and lay back, but Natasha Romanoff was full of surprises.

"Okay."

Natasha shifted a little so you could reach her hair. You thanked her repeatedly as you got to work making the perfect Dutch braid. Nat sat still for a few minutes, watching as the man on the screen made some declaration to a girl who was not interested. Soon though, she reached a hand behind her and stroked whatever part of you she could reach. Soon that progressed to her snuggling closer. Finally, she turned her head to try and kiss you.

"Nat stop moving and let me braid your hair!" you complained, but your laughter and smile betrayed you.

Utilizing her skills, she wiggled out of your hold without pulling her hair and grabbed you. Pulling you close, she started kissing you, anywhere she could reach. You soon did the same. The two of you were delighted, close to each other, until...

"Oh come on! When I said you guys were being gross, I meant, like being cheesy and giving me cavities. Cavities not nausea!" Tony exclaimed, interrupting your moment.

Nat stuck her middle finger at him, pulling you up off the couch and into her bedroom.

You never did finish that braid.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Fuck it Friday

Omg I had so many tags today y'all, thank you!!! I was tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @typicalopposite @fairytalegonewronga03 and @trombonechurchill 💖💖

I'm gonna do a snippet of ch. 4 of Tsunami Fic, bc I was supposed to post the whole chapter today, but I wasn't able to! (Tomorrow though, along with more ficlets andddd prompt 1 of Bucktommy FluffFebruary! Busy Saturday for me!)

When Tommy wished for a guardian angel watching over Genevieve, he didn’t think the universe would take him so literally. Because this man, this Evan? With earnest big blue eyes, blond curls, a pink birthmark that looks almost like a heart against his eyebrow? Yeah, that’s an angel he’s looking at.

He doesn’t have much of a chance to look at him, though, because as soon as Tommy thanks him, the man promptly passes out in front of them.

“Buck!” Captain Nash exclaims in surprise, and extends his arms to support him. His eyes are furrowed in concern, and both Hen and Howie are also fussing over Evan. Tommy has never seen this man before, but it’s clear they all know and care about him.

Thankfully there’s an empty bed close, and Nash lays Evan in it with surprising gentleness, in a way that vaguely reminds Tommy of when he puts Vivie to bed. And speaking of which.

Tommy finally manages to stop hugging Genevieve for long enough that he can take a good look at her. Her beautiful yellow dress, a present from his Nonna, is filthy, covered in grime and dirt (thankfully no blood); her hair is matted and frizzy, escaping out of the pigtails Tommy’s done for her this morning, and she looks pale and exhausted. She’s still the most beautiful sight Tommy has ever laid his eyes upon, and he can’t get enough of looking at her.

“Vivie, are you okay, baby? Does anything hurt?” Tommy asks gently, checking her face and arms for bruises or cuts, but thankfully, probably thanks to this Evan angel, his baby girl looks perfectly unharmed.

I won't add tags cause Friday's almost over, but if you see this and want to join, please consider yourself tagged!!

[sjsmith56]

Assignment Bucky Barnes, Chapter 12 - Won’t Let You Fall

Summary: Ariel has an emotional reaction to the news that Bucky and Steve have registered for the draft. A late-night phone call sends Merton on a secret errand.

Length: 4.3 K

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Ariel, Merton.

Warnings: Minors DNI - Contains sexual content which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18.

Author notes: The Selective Training and Service Act of 1940, also called The Burke-Wadsworth Act was the first peacetime conscription in United States history. Many of those who were drafted in October, 1940, threatened to leave as soon as their twelve month stint was over, painting the letters OHIO on their barracks; standing for "Over the Hill in October." With the war in Europe between Britain and Germany heating up an amendment to the act passed in August, 1941, requesting an extension to the length of service, adding more time to the twelve months, bringing it to thirty months. It was a controversial amendment, passed by only one vote in the House of Representatives. Those who voted against it argued that voluntary recruitment hadn't been fully explored. When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, millions of Americans enlisted by volunteering, and through conscription. There are changes in “assumed canon” in this chapter regarding when Bucky began training Steve to improve his fitness.

<<Chapter 11

Merton was never the wiser that Bucky spent the night as Ariel didn't tell him, wanting to keep the memory of Bucky climbing through the window in the dark a secret. She acknowledged to herself that it was a stereotypical trope often used in romance novels but there was something about it that made the romantic heart in her soar. The silhouette of him undressing and seeing his beautiful body outlined against the dim light coming from the window was meaningful to her. The combination of pleasurable sex, with the sensuous touches of the afterglow and the playful banter after had been alluring, something she had missed during her casual approach to sex before she met Bucky. Even the anxiety over being discovered when they heard Merton walking in the apartment had added to the experience. Although she slept soundly after their tryst she was aware while she slept that Bucky was in bed with her. That knowledge permeated through her and when she had a dream of him falling he comforted her while she slept, whispering that she was safe. Without waking, her dream turned from him falling to him flying. That was the first time her subconscious said "I won't let you fall."

Just over two weeks after Bucky spent the night the United States government passed the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940. The day after it was passed, on September 17, there were ads in all of the newspapers, and on the radio programs that all young men who had reached their 21st birthday but had not yet reached the age of 36 were to register with their local draft boards. Draftees, chosen by lottery, would have to serve on active duty for 12 months, a length of time that would be extended to 30 months less than a year later. The first draft began in early October 1940.

On the Saturday immediately after the announcement Steve and Bucky registered with the draft board. They joined a long line of men aged 21 to 35 waiting to register. It took much of the day, a hot one at that, and they decided to wait for Ariel to finish work to walk her home. Both of them went into the library and browsed the stacks with Bucky peeking out from time to time when the circulation desk wasn't busy to make eyes at Ariel. After one of those forays, he found Steve in the physical education section, looking at a book by Charles Atlas, outlining how to become muscular. As he approached Steve blushed.

"I'll never be strong enough for the army unless I get some muscle on me," he whispered. "Charles Atlas says he was 97 pounds before he invented his program. Perhaps I should do this."

"Why do you want to fight in a war?" asked Bucky, shaking his head. "I'll do my duty but Steve, fighting isn't for everyone. There's nothing wrong with that. You can do other things instead of fighting."

"Like what? Clerk? Working in the shipyard? I'm not even strong enough for that."

Bucky breathed out in exasperation. "What if I train you?" he asked. "You come with me to Goldie's Gym and I'll put you through the paces, boxing, lifting weights, and road training. I can do a better job than a book."

"You would do that for me?" asked Steve.

"Yeah, you're my buddy," replied Bucky.

"Sshhhh," said a voice nearby and they both looked to see a man in a suit frowning at them. "This is a library, gentlemen, keep your voices down."

Bucky made a face as the man walked past them, making Steve laugh quietly but when they saw him go behind the circulation desk they both decided they should just wait outside. They were there when Ariel came out half an hour later. She gave them both an exasperated look.

"You nearly got me in trouble with the manager of the library," she said. "Mr. Grayson wasn't happy about coming in on a Saturday when Mrs. Houseman phoned in sick. After he shushed you, Alma and Irina told him we were dating. I got the dirtiest look from him."

"Sorry," blurted Bucky then both he and Steve laughed again. "It was just the look on his face when he said what he did."

Bucky imitated Mr. Grayson so well that even Ariel had to smile but she hurried them along, not wanting Mr. Grayson to come out and find them making fun of him. Like she often did when they both walked her home she linked her arms with both of them while she was in the middle.

"So what did you get up to today?" she asked.

"We were in line much of the day at the draft board," said Steve, excitedly. "We both registered."

Ariel stopped dead. "You registered today?"

"Well, yeah, we have to by law so we figured we would get it done as soon as possible," said Bucky. "You know they passed the law that we have to register for a draft."

"I know," she said. "It just seems so soon. When do they start actually drafting men?"

"Next month," said Bucky. "I kind of hope I get drafted then so I can get it done and over with. It's just 12 months."

"Bucky's going to help me get a better physique so I can get into the army," said Steve.

"So you're both planning to leave me here alone when you get drafted," stated Ariel, then realizing she was letting her emotions get the better of her she toned her voice down. "Sorry, I'm being selfish. Of course you want to do what's right. I just ...."

She shook her head, disturbed that they would register so quickly, and also that she was bothered by that. None of them said anything until they arrived at the store and stood outside the door to the stairwell. Bucky made a motion with his head and Steve excused himself to go into the store to talk with Merton. Once he was out of earshot Bucky put his hand under Ariel's chin so she was looking at him. For some reason his Brooklyn accent came out stronger when he spoke to her this time.

"Sweetheart, what's botherin' you?"

"Nothing, it's just me being silly," she replied, trying not to get sidetracked by his blue eyes.

"I know what nuthin' is and I know what silly is," he said softly. "You ain't either of them."

"Just the thought that you registering puts you closer to being in harm's way." She could feel a tear drip down her cheek.

Bucky kissed the tear gently, then wiped it away with his thumb. "Yeah, it probably does, but it's the law now, so I have to register." He took a deep breath. "I can only promise that if I'm drafted that I'll do my best to stay safe and come back to you." He swallowed and looked away. "You're worth comin' home to, angel. Believe that."

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her ear to his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. Nothing was said between them, he just caressed her hair and back, then kissed the top of her head. They heard the sound of Merton locking the door and pulling the security grates closed. Pulling away she looked at Bucky.

"Movie tonight?" he asked. "His Girl Friday with Cary Grant is playing. Supposed to be full of laughs." She nodded. "I'll pick you up at 7 o'clock."

Right on time Bucky arrived to pick her up and they went down the stairs to the street where he had his father's car. After seeing her into the front seat Bucky started it up and drove to the movie theatre, where there was a small lineup. They sat in the back row and Bucky lit a cigarette while they waited, then put his arm around Ariel.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted. "I must be close to my monthlies. I feel on edge."

Bucky shrugged, not used to Ariel talking about that subject. Before he could say anything the house lights went down and the newsreel started. It started out with famous actors and actresses being shown at galas or at public events. Then there was footage of the Cincinnati Reds winning the National League pennant. There was the announcement of conscription being introduced in Canada for men between the ages of 21 and 24, then the passage of the selective service act in the U.S. The rest was all about the war in Europe with the various attacks and battles, finishing with the Battle of Britain, and how the British successfully staved off the German Air Force. Ariel was aware of Bucky watching her during the parts of the newsreel showing the war footage. When the cartoons came on she tried to relax and enjoy them. There was a Tex Avery one called Cross Country Detours, then another called A Day At The Zoo, then a Woody Woodpecker one called Knock Knock. She tried to find the humour in them but she just wasn't feeling it. The movie started and although it was considered a classic which was remade several times with different titles she found herself turning to Bucky part way through and staring at him with glistening eyes. Gently he kissed her then gazed at her and made a decision. Grasping her by the hand they left the theatre, bothering several kissing couples in their row and hurried to the car where Bucky pulled her onto his lap and kissed her feverishly for several minutes.

"Find somewhere private," she whispered, as she sat right beside him, beginning to undo her stockings and rolling them down her legs.

Bucky drove a bit then parked under an overpass where there were several other cars already parked. Most of them were far enough apart for privacy but it was obvious what the occupants of the cars were there for. Pushing the front seat back as far as it would go Bucky unbuttoned his pants revealing his already hard erection. Reaching inside his jacket he tore open a condom packet and rolled it on then Ariel lowered herself onto him, raised slightly so that she was looking down at him.

"What's got into you?" he asked with a whisper.

"Sshhh, no talk, just fuck."

Even when he tried to kiss or caress her Ariel pulled her face away or removed his hands, telling him she just wanted the one thing. Somewhat exasperated he obliged thrusting hard up into her. She allowed him to use his thumb to increase her arousal which made her come quickly, then she continued to ride him until he came, loudly grunting and gasping as she watched. As soon as he was finished she got off of him, sitting back on the passenger side and began to cry. As fast as he could Bucky removed his condom, tossing it outside then tucked himself back in and buttoned up. He slid over the bench seat to Ariel and took her hands in his.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seriously concerned for her.

"I don't know," she replied, then looked at him. "I can't explain it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Her light crying broke down into heart wrenching sobs and all Bucky could do was hold her in his arms, kissing the side of her head. He fished in his pocket for his handkerchief and handed it to her which brought a nod of thanks.

"Maybe I should take you home," he finally said.

"Please," she replied.

Ariel had removed her panties prior to mounting Bucky and asked him to wait while she pulled them back on. Once that was done he started the car and drove her back. As they sat in front of the store Ariel looked at the store then up at the apartment before turning back to Bucky.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I feel all emotional inside. I must be close. There's no other reason for it."

"You've never been like this before," commented Bucky. "Is everything okay at home? Your uncle is alright?"

She nodded then she smiled wanly at him. "I'll be okay in the morning. I'm sure of it. Goodnight, Bucky. I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

He leaned over to kiss her again then before he could get out of the car to open her door she opened her own and hurried to the stairwell door running up the stairs. Bucky sat in the car, puzzled, for several minutes before he started it up and drove back to his parent's home.

In the apartment Merton looked up with alarm as he heard the running feet in the stairwell then the door opened and Ariel rushed into her room with no word. He turned the radio off and went to Ariel's bedroom door, gently knocking on it. It took several calls of her name before he heard her say to come in. When he entered she was sitting on the edge of her bed and he noticed the red puffy eyes and the tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Whatever happened? Did he hurt you?" He felt his anger rising, sure that Bucky had done something.

She shook her head. "I can't do this anymore. We have to end this. Send me back, please."

Merton sat on the bed and put his arm around her. She bent her head into his shoulder and began to cry again.

"What's wrong?" he asked in his most gentle voice. "What has made you so upset?"

She gasped a few times, then realized she still had Bucky's handkerchief in her hand and used it to wipe her eyes. Finally, she began to take some shaky breaths before looking at Merton with all the emotion that she was feeling.

"I love him. I don't want him to fall. If I stay here I'm afraid I'll tell him everything."

Merton put his other arm around her and hugged her without saying anything for some time. Then he made a suggestion.

"Do you want to take a holiday?" he asked. "You and I can go away. I'll close the store, you can take a leave from the library and we'll drive to Washington, see the sights there. Maybe you just need to get away."

She shook her head and took a ragged breath. "I feel like an imposter, Merton," she said. "He and Steve registered for the draft today. It brings him one step closer to becoming a soldier and I'm terrified for him. Objectively I know I can't intervene but subjectively my whole being is screaming not to let him go to war."

Merton realized he would have to respond with some tough love for this.

"What would you have him do then? Put a bullet into his foot? They would arrest him for being a draft dodger. Leave and go to another country? It will be a world war and there won't be anywhere he can sit it out, except for maybe Switzerland. If you told him the truth would he even believe you?"

"Whose side are you on?" she asked scornfully. "Those are horrible things to say."

"Yes, they are," agreed Merton. "But if you tell him then what are his options? Seriously, what would you accomplish? Don't even think about the implications to the timeline. Think about him and your relationship because those are the first things that will be affected."

She wiped her nose and considered Merton's words. "He would hate me for not being truthful about who I really am. Then he would still go just to prove that he has control over his own fate. He would face it head on."

"And you would be left broken hearted because he rejected you and then you would still lose him because if he doesn't fall when he's supposed to, he might be taken by HYDRA in a different manner. His future is set and nothing you say to him will make a difference, not really."

"Then what do I do, Merton?" she said. "How do I stop feeling guilty for knowing what could happen and not being able to do a damn thing about it?"

He took her hands in his and kissed them, surprising even himself at how affected he was by her. "You love him in the here and now. That love might be the spark that helps him fight for his humanity for all those years. We know he fought because that was documented in the HYDRA files. His memories always came back, fragmented yes, but never fully destroyed."

Nodding her head, Ariel slowly withdrew her hands from his then looked at him gratefully. "Thank you. You're right. I love him but I can't change what will happen to him. I don't want to leave him because he is the great love of my life." Even though she was smiling, Merton wondered if she was being completely sincere. "I'll be alright after I sleep on it."

"Do you want a sleeping aid?" he asked. "I do have some from our time."

"No, thank you, I think I can manage," she said then she smiled. "For a gay bachelor you're pretty good at dad stuff."

For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of emotion across his face then he smiled fondly. "Thank you. That's a wonderful compliment."

He kissed her forehead, stood up, left her room and closed the door. Standing outside her door for a moment he looked at it and whispered.

"I'm just a father comforting my daughter."

Sighing, he made sure the apartment door was locked then turned off the lights and went to his room. In the top of his closet he brought down a box. From that he pulled out a protective pouch containing a photo album. Opening it up he looked through the photos of her mother at the IVF clinic, and him sitting next to her. They had just received the word that one embryo had successfully implanted and the pregnancy was confirmed. There were pictures documenting the mother's pregnancy, always with him in attendance as the biological father. At 38.5 weeks labour began and Ariel Anne Paxton was born in the presence of her biological mother, him, and her adoptive mother. After a day spent with Merton and her birth mother there was a picture of her with her adoptive mother, Skye Paxton. Her biological mother was restored to her real age of 74 years of age and demoted to a position in New Jersey. He was assigned, banished really, as resident historian in Helena, Montana, beginning in 1917; a position he held for 11 years until he was assigned to the Brooklyn position. The remaining pages contained pictures of Ariel through the years as she grew into as beautiful a woman as her biological mother with her red hair but he never saw her in person until the day he put his hand into the bubble of the portal and helped his daughter be birthed in a figurative sense.

Peri had warned him in advance that it would be Ariel, that she was ready. After all it was Peri's project, her plan to create the perfect woman historian in order to learn the final secrets of James Buchanan Barnes. It was Peri's body that was changed so she was in the prime of child bearing years for a woman, her previously frozen eggs used to implant 3 embryos. She went through the pain of labour giving birth to Ariel, then was forced to give her up to her foster mother, Skye Paxton, who officially died when she was 16. Only then was Peri allowed to take the girl in, acting as her mentor, and adoptive parent, teaching her everything she knew as a historian all for this one assignment. May Weatherly never was in contention for this as it was always meant for Ariel, even though only he and Peri knew, vowing to take that knowledge to the grave.

"You're not the only one feeling guilty about this baby girl," said Merton in a low voice as he flipped through the pictures again. "I tried to stay objective but I worry for you, that this is too much for you. But I'll see it through and hope I can help you pick up the pieces when he leaves, and again when he falls."

He closed the photo album, put it inside its protective pouch then back into the box before putting it back in the closet on the top shelf, tucked into the corner. As he undressed, he began to think that this assignment with Ariel would likely be his last. Twenty-three years spent in the past had made him old before his time. He already knew he had high blood pressure and high cholesterol because of the high fat diet. Unable to have a relationship because of the attitudes towards homosexuals and having to skulk around to even have the odd sexual encounter had made life lonely for him. The arrival of Ariel was the only thing making this bearable. She was so smart and beautiful, but her emotional state concerned him as he was previously unaware she had never had a love relationship, only casual sexual ones. Her relationship with Bucky was almost overwhelming for her, even without the secrets she had to keep from him. As he pulled his pyjama bottoms on, he heard the telephone in the kitchen ring, and went out to answer it. A man's voice came on the line after he said hello.

"Is this Merton Burnett?" said a voice he thought seemed familiar but couldn't place.

"Yes," he replied.

"Jitterbug," said the voice.

"Fox trot," he replied. "Hold on a moment." He turned on the radio. "What's happened?"

"My name is Jim Ference," said the voice. "Thomas Paulson and Will Greening are hurt. The historian watching General Phillips is in New Jersey with him. I had no one else to turn to as our third, Andrew Smith, has disappeared. Can you come? Bring a first aid kit. I don't think I can treat them with what I know so if you have any modern medical equipment bring it with you."

"What happened to Will's first aid kit?" he asked.

The man sighed. "I can explain when you get here. Please just come as quickly as you can."

Merton looked at the clock. Greening didn't live too far away. Merton did have a modern medical kit up in the store room but that meant he would have to leave Ariel by herself.

"I don't want to leave Ariel here on her own," said Merton.

"I know," replied Ference. "Call Bucky Barnes. He'll come and stay with her gladly. He's still awake."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me, he's up and if you phone him he'll be there as quickly as he can." Ference hesitated for a moment. "He won't abuse your trust. I can guarantee it."

He hung up and Merton phoned Bucky's house. It rang twice and Bucky answered. Merton explained that it was an emergency and he didn't want to leave Ariel by herself. Bucky declared he was on his way. Quickly Merton got the key and ran up to the storage room. There was a suitcase in the corner and he opened it to reveal a medical kit with a defibrillator, portable X-ray, diagnostic and treatment tools. Everything was in place and he closed the suitcase, taking it with him. He debated calling Peri, but decided he could do it from Will's place if needed. After locking the room back up he ran down the stairs and went to his room, dressing quickly. In the bathroom he opened a cupboard and pulled out a standard 1940's first aid kit. As he waited for Bucky he debated about leaving a note for Ariel but decided against it. A polite knock on the door alerted him to Bucky's arrival and he opened it.

"I don't know exactly what's happened," he said to the younger man. "But my friend Will Greening has been hurt and my assistance has been requested. Bucky, I'm trusting you to honour your promise to me. Watch over her. I don't know when I'll be back."

"She was really upset tonight," said Bucky. "Is she okay?"

"I think so," replied Merton. "We talked. This is a tough time for her. Her father died this time last year. She didn't tell you that did she?"

Bucky shook his head. That had to be why she was upset. He promised to honour his pledge and with a pat on Bucky's shoulder Merton left. Bucky took his shirt off, leaving his undershirt on, and laid on the couch, noticing a pillow and blanket had been left for him. He closed his eyes, feeling good that Merton trusted him in an emergency. Sleep followed quickly after.

Chapter 13>>

Series Masterlist

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

Paw Patrol Appreciation Week 2024

Friday - Catchphrase

Rocky first heard the phrase “Don't lose it, reuse it!” on TV, when the news was showing something about a recycle fair when he was still a puppy in training. He liked the sound of it.

As for “Green means go!” I bet he heard that one when Chase was studying traffic laws XD

[goddessofroyalty]

Based on your "Jayce sometimes forgets Vi and Jinx aren’t biologically related" and "Silco is food with Piltite kids" i present you "Piltite kids ask what kind of pretty Isha will be"

This tiny munchkis meeting baby Isha during a part/Piltover event and asking Silco questions about babys until one ask him if she is going to be pretty like Miss Vi or like Miss Jinx. They debate until one says she looks pretty like Mr Viktor.

Kid: Mr Viktor is super pretty! Mr Talis said so!

So now Silvo has a few questions for our dear Jayce

Oh yeah the average Piltite kid does not realise Vi and Jinx are adopted unless someone (for example their parents) tells them. You'd get the ones that ask how they have pink/blue hair while Silco (and Vander when he's around). Which if they ask Silco the question get the straightforward answer of "the girls became ours after their their parents were killed". And if they ask Jinx she will come up with some on the spot about how they fell into a vat of toxic chemicals when they were young, no that's just what eating x-thing does want to try some?

Quick joke comment: how many parents have had to rapidly herd their own kid away from Silco before he unintentionally tells them how babies are actually made (or without knowing pokes holes in the story their parents told them about how babies are made leaving them with Questions for their parents)?

And, yeah, Isha does look a lot like Viktor so that kid isn't wrong she's like him.

Silco knows that objectively Viktor is rather pretty. Hell, it's probably been a bit of a joke since Viktor was young that he took the best bits from both his parents because how did they make such a good-looking kid. But it's a bit different having children generally commenting that Viktor's pretty and knowing that Jayce, Viktor's 'partner', seemingly permanent shadow, who stares at Viktor adoringly whenever Viktor isn't looking at him, is saying that Viktor is pretty.

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

Oh little people in my phone, we're really in it now 😔😔

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. reader has neglectful parents, bad habits, sick!reader, soft!rafe.

growing up, you'd always been weary of confrontation of any kind, whether it was good or bad.

you had your parents to thank for that. once you entered a room, you saw the way they'd look down, sighing heavily or uttering something about being busy. you didn't spend all that much time with them. and when you were around, they ushered words out of you quickly, making as little conversation as possible.

sometimes you wondered how cruel they were to decide to have kids at all.

last summer you'd met a boy named rafe cameron, though you'd always known of him. he was sort of infamous in outerbanks, known vividly all over figure eight.

he could be sort of loud, jumpy and had this angry scowl often etched to his face. and then there was you, shy and quiet, mumbling words that hardly reached his ears because of the short volume you used. but rafe didn't seem to mind, too enamoured by the way your lips moved or the way your cheeks would tinge pink.

it didn't take long for rafe to want you.

and what rafe wanted, rafe got.

you began dating the boy less than a month after knowing him. now, a couple months had passed and every day you were learning more about the boy.

his father, ward, had passed away leaving tannyhill to himself after rose took wheezie and abandoned him, sarah now living on the cut with her fiance, john b.

rafe was also learning more about you.

cracking your shell had been more dificult than he thought. nonetheless, you were slowly but surely opening up to rafe about little things.

on one occasion you'd been seated on the kitchen counter while rafe stirred some sauce in a pot, making dinner for you both. "oh, no i hate hospitals!" you'd uttered. it had something to do with your conversation, you were sure. but now, you couldn't really remember how.

"me too." he'd agreed. he'd moved so that he was stationed between your legs, hands running up and down your thighs in a soft, non-sexual, manner. "with how clumsy you are, 'm surprised you've never broken anything."

"i broke my leg before." you admitted, voice dropping low. you often got quieter when rafe got closer. it was almost as if you were scared raising your volume may annoy him.

his brows shot up to his forehead. "what? how come i never knew this?"

you shrugged your shoulders. "wasn't a big deal. i didn't have to go to the hospital or anything, jus' stayed in bed for a while." you reminisced on the few weeks you'd gotten off of school.

"sweetheart, 'm pretty sure your parents would've sent you to the hospital if you broke your leg."

"I didn't tell them."

and the four words made rafe's heart still. he knew this must have been a long time ago, you hadn't lived with your parents for a while now. but still, his heart ached dully at the thought of you, with a broken leg and nobody to turn to.

and most of all. how did they not notice?

rafe made up his mind about your parents very early on in your relationship.

you were still having a difficult time figuring out how you felt about them.

it was late now, moon looming over tannyhill while rafe scribbled down words onto a piece of paper in what used to be ward's office, which was now his.

rafe realised he hadn't heard anything from his sweet girl in the past while, noticing the eerie silence against the walls. however, as if you'd been listening in on his thoughts, his eyes snapped up to the sound of the floorboards creaking.

there you were, peeking in the doors of the office, biting your lip hesitantly.

almost like you were scared to speak.

"hey, baby." his soft words were enough to have your muscles suddenly loosening. he pushed his chair away from the desk, patting his thigh. "c'mere."

you hadn't seen much of rafe today for he was busy dealing with business. you didn't want to disturb him, in case he was too busy.

but nonetheless, you did as you were told.

you all but scurried across the office, finding every bone in your body go slack as you sat on his lap, where he wanted you. "y'okay?" he brushed a few strands of hair from your face. you looked flushed. you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. "look like you wanna ask me somethin', princess."

"do you, uhm..." your fingers trailed against his shirt, taking in every texture and stitch. you didn't want to bother rafe by making him get up and go looking for things. "do you know where the painkillers are? can't find 'em anywhere."

"painkillers?" his jaw tensed and untensed, eyes softening at you. "for what?"

you felt your cheeks heat up. you hoped he wasn't angry with you for bothering him while he was oh so busy. "headache." is all you uttered, not wanting to 'inconvenience' him with your 'issues'.

"you've a headache?" his palm was suddenly against your forehead, gauging your temperature. low and behold, you were awfully warm. "how long you been feeling icky, huh, baby?"

"a while." you shrugged before swallowing thickly. "'m sorry."

"hey, hey." his thumb pushed your chin up, noticing your sudden shift in moods. "what're you sorry for?"

"you're working." you mumbled. "'n 'm complaining 'cause i feel sick 'n―"

"stop, stop, baby, look at me." his hands were cupping your face oh so gently making your stomach feel kind of funny. it was this unfamiliar feeling of being comforted, cared for. a feeling you'd spent your entire life searching for. "i wanna hear everything you have to say to me, alright? everything, all the time, until my ears fall off. sound good?"

a small giggle escaped your lips. "sounds good."

his fingers moved to your hip bones, gently caressing the skin. "how 'bout we go get some painkillers in you 'n then go watch a movie, hm?"

the idea made your heart flutter, you played with the loose thread of his shirt. "sure you're not too busy?" words so small. you were sure that you would blink and the moment would be over, that you'd be that same young girl, hiding your broken leg from your parents because 'all you ever did was complain'.

"never too busy for m'girl. c'mon." and he stood, with you still in his arms, legs tangling around his hips.

[heestoleurgirl]

nishimura riki 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which you underestimate how clingy your boyfriend actually is, he loves cuddling and kissing you sm :(

genre: FLUFF, fluff and more fluff pairing: bf!riki x fem!reader wc: 1.4k

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

it wasn't your first time sleeping over at riki's place. at this stage in your relationship it had become almost routine, you were able to walk around his apartment as if it were your own.

you were currently in the bathroom, just having finished showering. it wouldn't be unusual for you and riki to shower together, however he insisted on doing the dishes left over from dinner while you got the shower all to yourself.

the soft fabric of his shirt felt even better against your skin after you'd cleaned yourself. his smell immediately enveloped you, leaving your lips curled upwards in a smitten smile. why bring your own pjs when you could just wear his clothes? you hummed along to the faint song playing from your phone as you grabbed your toothbrush and got to work.

about a minute had passed, you were so immersed in brushing your teeth and listening to the music that you barely registered a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist slowly. your head shot up, only to see riki's tall frame hugging you through the mirror. his face was lazily buried in the crook of your neck, leaving stubborn strands of his hair to tickle your skin.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

"ki, i'm busy" you murmured, the words muffled with the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. you had to lean a bit more forward to reach the sink, since riki had pulled you flush against his chest.

"don't care, missed you" he hummed against your soft skin quietly, he loved how amazing and fresh you smelled after the shower.

you laughed softly in return, you were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, plus you'd already spent the whole day together. yes, you knew your boyfriend was clingy but somehow it never ceased to surprise you. was this the same man that acted cool and closed off around his friends? you rolled your eyes in endearment, and you knew he'd probably start complaining if he saw it. not like you minded it one bit, you thought his soft demeanour was absolutely adorable. (you don't tell him that, he hates being called cute)

riki tugged at your waist gently, urging you to hurry up without words. "c'mon, stop being impatient" you scoffed and smiled, though he was too busy to listen, distracting himself by kissing your shoulder and neck softly.

the toothbrush was discarded in favour of your skincare products. riki's ears perked up at the sound, finally drawing his attention to what you were doing. his face turned from hopeful to disappointed, were you seriously planning on making him wait even more by putting stupid stuff on your face? not on his watch.

you reached for the first product, but your hand never made it. you let out a surprised yelp as riki picked you up in one swift motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing.

"riki!" you whined in protest, though you knew it was no use. you watched helplessly as he grabbed your phone and strolled out of the bathroom like it was the most normal thing ever. "i need to do my skincare! put me down." you tried sounding firm and strict, but failed comically.

"nah" his grip on your bare thighs was firm, before he practically threw you in his bed. riki didn't waste a second, he climbed in next to you and yanked you against his own body, knowing you might try to escape to finish your nightly routine.

his arms snaked around your waist once again, tight enough that there was no chance of you escaping from him, but also mindful not to hurt you. you groaned, feeling a little irritated that you wouldn't be able to finish your skincare. though it was impossible to stay mad when you looked down and saw your boyfriend cuddling you like you were a damn teddy bear. his long ass legs were now tangled with yours too.

"you're so annoying..." you murmured quietly, your voice lacking any real conviction. the words contrasted with your actions completely as you wrapped your arms around his neck and idly played with strands of his hair.

riki felt like he was in heaven. if it were up to him, you would never leave his bed ever again. he loved the way your small body fit perfectly against his, as if you were made just for him. your skin was soft and warm, making you his personal heater. he could feel every soft rise and fall of your chest, along with the faint sound of your heartbeat.

his hands began to wander mindlessly, slipping under your shirt (his shirt to be precise) to caress the bare skin there. you shivered slightly when you felt his feather light fingers trail down your spine, moving over the curve of your backside and stopping at your thighs to rub them gently.

your unfinished skincare was long forgotten now, all you could focus on was how good his touches felt. it was as if you could feel the love and care behind every single one, even when he was so tired and quiet. you thought your heart might burst from the amount of affection you had for him in this moment.

riki groaned softly when your fingers involuntary tightened in his hair. you removed your hands from his dark locks and cupped his face instead, gently pulling his face up so you could look at him. his messy bangs covered his eyes, but they seemed to be extra round right now as he looked up at you adoringly.

you were no expert on feelings but the look in his eyes made your stomach churn with a sudden rush of butterflies, you swore you could see hearts in his eyes. for a moment you were breathless, just staring at his pretty face.

he slowly inched closer, taking advantage of your distracted state to press his pink lips against yours gently. no matter how many times you kissed, it always made your heart race and your brain feel all fuzzy. his cheeks were warm and soft under your fingers, and time seemed to stop completely around you two.

you weren't sure how much time had passed as you were completely tangled against him, your lips moving each other leisurely. riki's hands wondered yet again, trying to caress and touch as much of your skin as he could, he absolutely adored every inch of you. every time you pulled away a bit for air, he would wait a second at most before diving right back in. the action made you smile against his lips, making your heart beat fast yet again.

minutes later, he pulled away and switched to pressing soft kisses across your face. your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, he didn't leave anything without a gentle smooch. you couldn't help the dumb smile that was plastered on your face, you closed your eyes and quietly let him do as he pleased. one of your hands detached from his cheek to once again stroke his hair.

riki opted to leaning back a little to appreciate your cute face, a faint blush visible on your cheeks. he poked your side lightly to get your attention, making you open and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "what?"

"nothing. you look pretty." he smirked, hoping to see you become even more flustered, he loved having that effect on you. knowing you were just as affected by him as he was by you.

seeing his smirk, you decided to tease him a little. "i'm gonna go finish my skincare." you announced abruptly and shifted, moving out of his arms as if you were actually about to leave the bed. to nobody's surprise, riki immediately pushed himself up and tugged you right back against him.

"you're not going anywhere, don't even try to leave." he playfully glared at you and pulled you so you were laying under him, caged between his arms.

before you could tease him further, he laid directly on top of you, crushing you with his weight. you let out a groan/laugh and nudged his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.

"ki! i can't breathe!" you whined, wriggling under him in an attempt to get him to move. unfortunately for you, riki made absolutely no effort to get off you.

"looks like you're having a seizure, i might need to give you mouth to mouth so you don't die." he smirked yet again, and leaned down to kiss you before you could protest or complain.

safe to say, you didn't do your skincare that night. though, feeling his lips against yours was a damn good alternative.

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking of an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

tw: none (?) so far, just some obsessive sounding letters

you were currently staring at a face that wasn't yours, in a castle you've never seen, surrounded by people you don't know. you look down at you hands, now covered in jewelry you could have never hoped to afford in your previous life. your unblemished, dainty hands that have never seen a day of work.

the first couple days you spent in this body were spent in bed. you were told by the nurse that you had collapsed while leaving supper and had been asleep for several days.

your father, the count, made the estate's staff keep you in bed and well taken care of. he was a tan and muscular man with a scar across the left side of his face. at first you were intimidated by his rough appearance, especially because these settings usually accompany a stereotypically abusive family for the female protagonist.

however, you found that he was a kind and gentle man, genuinely concerned for his child's well being. his eyes soften as they turn to you, and after asking around, you found out that he has been working remotely from the estate ever since you passed out.

you found out from a maid that he was born a commoner, but excelled at combat and battle strategy. which caught the eye of the grand duke, and his daughter.

the grand duke's daughter was about the same age as him, and there were rumors floating around about them meeting in secret as children, then falling in love as they grew older.

he was able to prove his worth to the kingdom and earn his title through battle. although, it was unclear if he did this just to obtain status, or if it was to impress a certain grand duke.

your mother was usually busy tending to the estate's financial affairs, but the few times you saw her around were when she was at your bedside, reading a book in her lap while playing with a strand of your hair as you were tended to by nurses and maids.

apparently, regardless of the status your father obtained, the grand duke was insistent that his daughter was too good for him. he would shout and scream like a child about how she would marry the prince, who is now the king. when she refused to do so, he disowned her.

with your father's newly obtained title of "count" he obtained land, and greatly assisted the men and women he paid to build the estate you and your family currently live in.

your mother apparently knew that she would get disowned as soon as they made their relationship public. so, they strategically announced their engagement and wedding so that your mother could simply move in with your father as soon as she was disowned.

she usually appeared cold and didn't say much, but the way she looked at your father made you believe she had no regrets and loves him, you, and the life she has. the way your father looked at her also made you believe that he was deeply in love with her, as he borderline worshipped the ground she walked on. they were a private, yet happy couple and you were their beloved only child.

this scene was familiar, but you couldn't quite place it. you were an avid reader of "otome isekai" manga and manhwa, but nothing about this seemed familiar to you. so, when you were finally allowed to leave your bed, you tried to deduce as much as you could about where you were.

eventually, you decided to ask your parents. claiming that you were having issues with your memory since you collapsed. technically not a lie, and they looked concerned while they answered your questions one at a time. as you got up to leave, you noticed a pile of unopened letters on the windowsill of your parents' joint office.

your parents sighed as their attention shifted to what you had been staring at.

your father spoke up first, "that friend of yours has not stopped sending letters ever since he found out what happened to you," he continued, "i knew it was a mistake telling him you collapsed."

your mother expression shifted into a sly yet knowing look, "well, i can't blame the boy for being concerned. the two of you have been attached at the hip since childhood."

your father makes an abstract motion with his left arm, vaguely gesturing at the pile of letters. "we didn't want to disturb your rest or worry you, so we decided to hide the letters until you recovered." he pauses, "feel free to take them on your way out."

you walk over to the windowsill and slowly start collecting the letters. all addressed to what is now "your" name. as your eyes shift to the return address, you notice they all came from an oliver northwood.

you say your goodbyes to your parents, and make your way back to your room. once you've arrived, you set down the letters on your bed and slowly realize just how many letters he's written to you within the past four days. you begin with the earliest ones, all of which contain very sweet and concerned messages, wishing for you to recover soon.

as you keep reading, you start to feel a sense of dead wash over you as the contents of the letters become more... unsettling. shifting from statements like "i wish you a speedy recovery and can't wait to see you again!" to "every day i go without seeing your face is a day wasted. i wish i could go over there to see you, even if you 'aren't awake.'"

you push on, finally getting to the more recent letters. the contents causes a small shiver to run down your spine. "i miss you so so so so much. my darling, my love, my closest friend. please please get better soon. i feel myself slowly going insane when you aren't near me. sometimes, i feel like you are the one thing keeping me stable. please get better. please..."

you don't know this man, but the person whose body you now inhabit did.

you try to recall every male lead you could. oliver northwood... oliver northwood... doesnt sound like any male lead youve read about. you did read... so much otome isekai though. so its also possible you just cant remember.

just who is he?

please let me know if you want a continuation! :)

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: The Radio Demon proves to be quite a doting husband as he and his doe expierence many firsts together. Exploring his softer sides, may bring out a more posessive side of Alastor in the process.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, doe!reader, the reader is shorter than al, implied size difference, soft!alastor, posessive!alastor, lots of tooth rotting fluff, sexual themes but i wouldn't consider this smut, first times, alastor in a rut, knotting, breeding, pregnacy, many domestic moments between reader and alastor

☒ Word Count: 2,337

Alastor was drawn to you the moment you crossed paths. The spotted ears planted atop your head, heart-shaped antlers, and a plush tail to match were striking. The Radio Demon hadn't ever seen a fellow deer hybrid in hell until you. But Alastor just knew that he had to have you all to himself. 

Since your first meeting, the two of you were inseparable. It didn't take long until you wed, and anyone who dared to try and cozy up to The Radio Demon's darling doe joined his next broadcast. Alastor was insanely possessive of you. He always had you tucked underneath his arm, crimson eyes following your every move. The only time they weren't on you, was when The Radio Demon was busy... taking care of business.

You were timid and pure. Alastor had no clue how you even ended up in hell. Surely, the gods were mistaken by not taking you. But alas, that softness you carried only made The Radio Demon's obsession for you all the more extreme. You were his weak spot, his darling wife. The love of his afterlife. 

You adored waking up next to Alastor each morning. He didn't rest often but snuggled into you each night to appease you. Which just made your heart flutter with delight. The only time you awoke to an empty bed, was when your husband slipped away to make breakfast for you. 

For the most part, you would sleepily wobble into the kitchen. Wrapping your arms around Alastor's waist from behind while he cooked his heart out. Alastor would hum a soft tune while he finished making your breakfast. Reveling in the warmth his cute wife emitted.

The Radio Demon would often spin on his heel. Encircling his large palms around your waist. He loved lifting you, so the tips of your toes planted flat against the top of his shoes as he spun you around the kitchen. Your laughter and his singing filled the sacred space you shared. You may have been in hell, but anywhere you were with Alastor was heavenly. 

Alastor never failed to notice how flustered you got as you gazed up at him. The man was over seven feet tall, so typically, he was taller than most. However, you were adorably short in comparison. His hands blanketed yours entirely. Alastor absolutely loved to bend down before you. Treasuring how your ears tipped back coyly as he met you at eye level. You were so easy to read. You couldn't hide anything from your husband. Even if you tried. 

You came to notice that physical touch wasn't something Alastor particularly liked. Except when it came to you. Your husband was constantly all over you. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap anytime he sat down. You name it. Knowing that you were the only exception made you feel special.

But even still, you never pushed the matter. If anything, you waited for Alastor to initiate the physical intimacy, which happened more frequently than one might think- considering The Radio Demon's reputation. 

Sex wasn't something you discussed much at the beginning of your relationship. Alastor briefly mentioned that he never desired such things when he was alive. But once he became a demon, a deer hybrid at that- he started experiencing ruts. He explained that he would usually tuck away from the world until his rut passed, but that was as far as the conversation went. Relief washed over you, knowing that you weren't alone in that aspect. Your periods of estrus always made you feel shameful but, most of all... unbearably needy.

Alastor prided himself on knowing that he was a man of great composure. However, when his routine rut hit after you both had tied the knot- he expected to be able to control his urges. But that proved to be impossible for The Radio Demon. At the start of his rut, he kept his distance. Avoiding all physical contact with you. Naturally, you understood and tried to support him the best you could from afar. 

But it didn't take long for Alastor's poise to completely crumble. Your scent was all over your shared home, and any glimpse of you had him throbbing in his pants. 

Before you knew it, your husband was on you. Nipping and kissing up the expanse of your throat. Grumbling and groaning against your neck, begging you to help in through his heat. Your body trembled with need as Alastor's hands roamed along your frame in a way he never had before. 

His touches were prompt, frantic, and perverse. You wouldn't dream of denying your darling husband during his time of need. Knowing that Alastor would be your first and last lover; as you would be his, sent your heart pounding against your ribcage.

As desperate as your husband was for release, his touch was undoubtedly gentle. Alastor was slow to undress you, laying you flat atop your shared bed. He placed chaste kisses on every square inch of your skin, making your ears twitch with delight. Your husband whispered sweet nothings into your skin as he worked a finger into your tight heat for the very first time. 

Alastor's deft digit stretched you out slowly. The copious amount of slick dripping down your thighs made it easy for him to add another finger. You were on cloud nine being touched by your darling husband in such a way. You could feel the need he had for you, and it only added to the pleasure. 

Your husband was a bit hesitant the first time he pushed himself inside your welcoming walls. His hands were trembling around your waist as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could tell he was unfamiliar with such things; it was endearing. Alastor's face loomed over yours as he beckoned into you slowly. He gazed down at you with so much adoration as he succumbed to pleasure. 

You didn't fail to notice the tears of merriment trickling down Alastor's flush cheeks as his pace quickened. Carefully, you wiped them away. Moaning in pure ecstasy as you and your husband reveled in the unforgettable moment you shared. A gasp escaped you as you felt him begin to swell from deep within you. 

From the look on Alastor's face, you could tell he was just as perplexed as you were. The base of your lover's length swelled so much, that he could hardly pull back. You were quite literally stuck together. It didn't take long for you to understand what had happened once Alastor released his seed deep inside you. 

The feeling of your husband being so close, enveloping and marking you as his, pushed you over the edge. Once Alastor's knot deflated inside you, finally allowing him to slip out of your heat, his eyes averted from yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he attempted to regain his composure. 

Slowly, he explained that he had no clue that he was capable of knotting until only moments ago. You couldn't help but flush as you admitted to liking it more than you probably should have. Your confession unlocked something from deep inside your husband's psyche. Safe to say that you both shared a long night of exploring one another's pleasures and eccentricities. 

Your husband began craving you sexually even when he wasn't in a rut after your first night together. Alastor seemed to have developed a fixation with breeding you, which you weren't opposed to. The thought of starting a family with your doting husband plagued your mind often. 

So it wasn't a massive surprise to you when you discovered you were pregnant only a couple months later. When you broke the news to Alastor, he was elated. Your husband lifted you in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen as you both grinned brightly. Alastor wasted no time pitching name ideas for your fawn, melting your heart entirely.

You were about seven months along when your husband informed you of his next prospect at the Hazbin Hotel. Happily, you joined your husband in his endeavor. At first, the people you met who resided at the hotel didn't believe you were Alastor's spouse. For crying out loud, he was the infamous Radio Demon. The ruthless overlord that moved up the ranks faster than ever before. 

But to you, he was simply the doting husband that took pride in loving you. Who rubbed your feet from how much they swelled during your pregnancy. The man who hummed his favorite tunes to you as you dozed off each night, caressing your ears lovingly in the process. 

It took a good while but over time you developed a good relationship with the residents. Charlie was so caring and helpful. She did tons of research on pregnancy to be able to aid you. The Princess of Hell loved rubbing your belly, feeling the little kicks, and humming happy songs to your little fawn.

Vaggie was overly protective of you. Not to Alastor's level- but certainly up there. She acted like your bodyguard at times, even in the safety of your and Alastor's room. It made you giggle, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

Angel was a hoot. At first, he would ask you indecent questions about your and Alastor's sex life. But Husk always put him in his place at times like that. Eventually, Angel became somewhat of a brother to you. He and Fat Nuggets would sit on your bed with you late at night while Alastor worked in his radio tower. Angel would put on all the best rom-com movies, laughing and crying alongside you.

You knew Husk beforehand, having a civil relationship for the most part. But as more time passed at the hotel, he began to warm up to you. If anything, Husk feared for you. He didn't like Alastor in the slightest- and he didn't want you to get caught in The Radio Demon's crossfire. So he kept a watchful gaze on you, especially now that you were pregnant. 

A small smile etched into your features as you heard the bedroom door swing open. Alastor was home early, something that didn't happen often. You sunk lower into your bubble bath, letting a soft sigh escape you as your husband's footsteps got louder. A moment later, the bathroom door swung open. Revealing the one and only; Alastor. 

"How is my darling doe and fawn doing on this wonderful evening?" Alastor boomed, approaching the tub swiftly. Wasting no time kneeling beside the tub. You giggled as your husband slipped his gloves off, dunking his palms beneath the water to caress your plump belly. 

"Hmm, better now that you're here," You whispered. Rubbing your palms over the back of his hands. Alastor craned his neck, giving you a chaste kiss. You couldn't help but smile against your lover's lips as your little fawn kicked right at that very moment. "See! Our little one is happy too, now that daddy's here." 

Alastor gazed at you with much adoration as he felt another kick, further solidifying your words. "Well, in that case! I suppose I should strive to get home earlier from now on, hm?" Your husband remarked, slowly pulling his hands from the tub. Alastor didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a washcloth. Lathering it up with your favorite soap before dipping his hands below the water once more. 

"Miss falling asleep next to you, Al," You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your husband washed you. Alastor was so gentle as he scrubbed you clean. Making sure to massage your sore muscles in the process. "I know, my dear, I know." He cooed. Humming a gentle tune as he slid behind you from outside the tub. Working the knots out of your tense shoulders. 

"Our little fawn will be here soon... you nervous?" You asked softly, letting out a pleasant hum as Alastor massaged your back. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Quite the contrary, my darling! I'm over the moon with excitement. I simply cannot wait to meet our little one."

Alastor's words caused your heart to flutter against your ribcage. You were the nervous one. You just hoped your child would be happy and healthy. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear! Our fawn is in good hands. Don't you see how much the patrons here adore you and our unborn child?"

Your husband always knew when you were nervous. It was as if he could read your mind. The sound of the soapy water sinking down the drain caused your eyes to flutter open. Alastor now stood with a towel outstretched in his arms. He beckoned you toward him, wrapping you in his arms as you stepped out of the tub. Your tail wagged with joy as your husband dried you off. 

"You're right... thanks for reminding me, my love," You smiled, tilting your face up against your husband's chest. Alastor took the hint, craning his neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss was warm and loving. Making you feel safe in his embrace. "No need to thank me, my dear! Come now, let's get you tucked in."

You squealed as your husband scooped you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style toward your shared bed. Alastor softly placed you under the duvet, wasting no time getting you warm and cozy in one of his button-up shirts. It smelled just like him, your favorite scent. Your husband stealthily removed his overcoat and shoes before making himself comfortable beneath the sheets.

Alastor cuddled up into your backside, wrapping his slender arms around your waist. He caressed your tummy lovingly as he kissed the top of your head, pulling your back flush against his chest. "There, now my darlings are ready to rest!" Your husband quipped, allowing his droopy eyelids to flutter shut. All you could do was hum in agreement as sleep overtook you. "Night, Al... love you..." 

"I love you more, my dear."

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim

comment if you're intrested in being added to the taglist^^

[gguk-n]

hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️

established relationship, not very angsty, short

My World Champion

Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.

Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.

It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.

Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.

It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.

After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.

That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.

[d3arapril]

PUSH 2 START | p.b

pushin' on my buttons with no hesitation, gas me up give me motivation

pairing: paige bueckers x f!reader word count: 5.4k words of pure filth sorry not sorry warnings/tags: sexual content. VACATION PAIGE!!!, they get drunk and nasty FRRR, dom!paige, oral, fingering, strap usage (yes i finally wrote it), squirting, doggy, spanking, overstim - bro i could literally go on and on, just read it lol. (reminder - don't like it? don't read it)‼️ ᡣ𐭩 this idea quite literally came to me in a dream. this wasn't supposed to be full on smut but obviously i got carried away & ended up writing quite possibly the dirtiest thing i've ever written.... i listened to tyla's album on repeat whilst writing hence the random title. enjoy :D as always feedback & reblogs are appreciated x

“Think I have heatstroke.”

You roll your eyes from where you’re sat on the balcony, distracted from the half eaten packet of lays sat in your lap. You shift in your seat to crane your neck around to look at Paige through the glass doors, sun beaming down onto your skin.

“We were outside for like, half an hour.”

The Greek sun was no joke. You'd both decided to treat yourselves to a last minute vacation, frantically booking one of the nicest apartments you could both find a week prior to departure. Seven days on a Greek island was your idea of heaven and Paige had willingly agreed, claiming she needed some sun.

However, what she wasn't prepared for was the sun being the hottest thing she'd ever felt in her 23 years of being alive– her words.

The blonde groans from where she’s splayed out on the bed. The crisp, white sheets are a nice contrast against her newly tanned skin, body wrapped in a white fluffy towel.

You stand up from the chair, grimacing at the sting of your legs unsticking from the plastic. The packet of lays gets abandoned on the small table before you and your toes burn against the hot tile as you hop back into the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you.

Paige doesn't flinch when she hears you come in, cheek smooshed against the sheets. She hums in the back of her throat when you scratch at her scalp as you pass her, her hair still slightly damp from the shower.

"You gonna make it to dinner, champ?"

A breath of a laugh leaves Paige as she pushes herself up with another groan, towel loosely tucked around her body. You're busy sorting through the selection of dresses you'd packed when you feel her wrap her arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

Her head juts towards the white dress hanging up in the closet. "Wear that one."

It's a fairly simple dress- plain white with a racer style neckline and ruffled skirt. You take it off the rail and hold it up in front of you, head tilting as you study it. "Really? It's kind of boring."

"Nah," Paige's hands rub up and down your sides, nose nudging against your cheek. "S'my favourite." She punctuates her sentence with a kiss to your jaw. It's seemingly innocent, but you know the girl well enough by now.

You slip out of her grip, dress in hand, before she can try anything, grabbing a pair of white strappy heels as you go.

"I'm gonna get ready in the bathroom," you're heading towards said room before she can stop you. "Reservation is at 8!"

You're sat on the couch, impatiently tapping a heel against the flooring. You tap against your phone screen to check the time for what felt like the hundredth time– you only had five minutes to get to the restaurant. Somehow, Paige always managed to take so long to get ready. You'd tried to get into the bedroom to see what was taking her so long but the door was locked so you were forced to sit and wait for her like her chauffeur.

You're scrolling through TikTok when you hear the lock click on the door. You huff, grabbing your bag from beside you. Standing up, you run a hand down your dress to flatten out any creases and when you look up Paige is stood in the doorway.

She's got her hair slicked back in her classic bun and she's wearing a white shirt with a simple black crop top underneath. The shorts she's wearing are black, too and she's wearing the Nike's you bought for her. She stands in silence, hands tucked into her pockets as she watches you take her all in.

You slink towards her, heels clicking against the tiles. You're aware you're probably staring at her like she's a piece of meat but you can't find it in you to car when she looks this good, plus it's not like she would complain.

"You're late," you hum, pulling her in by the belt loops. "What took you so long?"

She shrugs, opting to not respond. Instead, her hands reach out to rub down your back. "You look..." She pauses, leaning back. Her eyes start from your heels, trailing up your legs. Her gaze pauses on your chest for a second before meeting your eyes. "Really fucking good."

The pink of her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she takes your hand and holds it above your head. "Twirl for me."

You do as she says, giddily spinning in a circle for her. Her teeth pull at her bottom lip as she watches you, the vanilla from your perfume hitting her like some sort of pheromone. You drive her insane.

"You like?"

"You know I like. We're matching."

Before you can respond, the sudden dread of missing your reservation hits you and you're kicked into gear, eyes widening as you cast a glance at your phone in your hand.

"Fuck, we're late!"

You pull Paige by the wrist as you frantically leave the apartment, locking the door behind you and walking as fast as you could in your heels to the restaurant.

Alcohol in Europe is different to the alcohol in America– it's somehow much, much stronger.

You'd had an amazing dinner, followed by some amazing cocktails. What was supposed to only be one or two turned into arguably too many and before you knew it you were both stumbling back to the apartment.

The front door is opened and shut again faster than you can blink and you're pressed against it before your brain can catch up with you. Your head spins a little when you tilt it up to give Paige access to your neck, dazed smile spreading across your lips.

"Mmmm," Paige all but moans against your skin, licking a stripe up your neck. "Tastes good."

"Might be the alcohol." the words leave you lazily, slurred. Paige pulls back to look at you, eyes glazed over.

"Nah, s'all you."

You pull her in with a hand gripping the back of her neck, lips slotting against hers. It's hot, messy- her tongue slides against yours and you taste the alcohol on her breath. Ordinarily, you'd make a joke about her needing to brush her teeth but you're fully aware you're just as bad so you remain silent, just kiss her deeper and softly moan into her mouth.

When you part from each other you're both panting, string of spit separating the two of you. You lick your lips and it breaks, clinging to your bottom lip. Paige's thumb reaches up to wipe it away, pad of her thumb pressing against you. She just stares at you as she swipes the digit across slowly, smudging the remainder of your lip liner down your chin.

"So fucking fine," she murmurs, eyes trained on your lips. Your tongue darts out to lick at her thumb, smirk forming when she lets out a shaky breath. "You tryna kill me?"

"Maybe." you smirk at her, pushing at her shoulders until she stumbles back. You glide past her and head to the lounge, the blonde hot on your heels.

She catches you by the couch, arms caging you in from behind. You let her, of course. The cat and mouse game is usually fun but when you're this desperate, there are plenty other things you'd rather be doing.

"So many rooms to choose from," Paige whispers against the shell of your ear, "So many places to fuck you in."

Your knees almost give out and you're sure they would've if it wasn't for Paige holding you up, her chest pressed tight to your back.

"Could fuck you here," a flick of her head gestures to the couch.

Her hands find your chest, squeezing at your tits through the fabric of your dress. "Or on the counter, on the balcony."

You're abnormally quiet, nodding at whatever she says. She snickers, hands trailing down further until they reach the hem of your dress. Paige knows that when you're speechless, she's doing something right.

"You want that?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"All of them."

She spins you around and you have to grab onto her to steady yourself. Her cheeks are all flushed and she's clearly just as drunk as you.

"Gonna let me?"

You feel like you're going to cry from how badly you want it.

You nod eagerly, gripping the fabric of her shirt. You want to rip it off of her, lick all over her tan lines and have your way with her but you let her have this one; you can tell she's in the mood to take control and you'd never be one to deny her of that.

She wrestles herself from your tight grip and flops down on the couch, legs spread and arms wide across the back cushions. You're still stood in your spot, hands now awkwardly by your sides as you wait for her to tell you what to do.

"Take it off."

You lean down to slip off your heels but she stops you with a cough.

"Keep 'em on, I meant your dress."

"But-"

"Off, c'mon."

You stand up straight again, gripping the hem of your dress and pulling it up and off your body. It's a bit of a struggle and you stumble around slightly but it eventually slides off of your head. It drops beside you and you're left in a simple matching white set.

Despite the alcohol coursing through your body, you still manage to feel shy under Paige's heavy gaze. She's still sat in the same position, eyes raking over your body.

"C'mere."

You toe towards her with careful steps, nothing but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile and both of your heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. You're standing between her legs, much like you were earlier, and she still doesn't move from her spot, fingers gripping at the cushions of the couch.

Paige’s gaze remains locked on yours, her lips curling into a smirk as she leans back further into the couch, making no move to close the distance between you. Her liquid confidence oozes with the weight of her stare and the longer she waits the more your heartbeat thuds in your ears.

“Closer." she murmurs, her voice low.

You inch forward until your shins hit the leather of the couch. You try to stop your hands from shaking, try to act like this is any other time you've been in this situation but there's something about having the entire space to yourself that makes this feel so different, so intense.

"Do you plan to do this all night, or?" your voice comes out quieter than you'd intended.

She lets out a laugh, arms reaching forward to pull you in by your hips. You fall into her lap, bracing yourself against her shoulders to soften the impact.

"I just like lookin' at you," Paige licks her lips, glossy eyes looking up at you. "So sexy, you know that?" Her left hand smooths up your torso, grips at the fat of your chest and squeezes.

You whimper pathetically at the contact, your hands moving from their spot on her shoulders to her hair. You mess with the hair ties and pull the bun free, fingers brushing through the blonde strands. Paige hisses when your nails scratch against her scalp, hips pushing upwards against your own.

Her right hand slides around your back and she pulls you down until your chests are pressed together. You kiss her, open mouthed and messy as your tongue laps at hers, grinding down against her. The rough metal of her zipper presses against you through the thin material of your underwear and you whimper against her mouth, eyebrows drawing together at the feeling.

Paige's left hand finds home on your ass, squeezing and guiding you to rock against her. You whimper into the kiss as she uses her hold on you to grind you down onto her harder, tongue pushing further into your mouth. You can feel the heat radiating off of her, can smell the scent of the shampoo she used in the shower this afternoon and taste the alcohol on her tongue. You're practically drunk on her let alone the alcohol, and she's definitely drunk on you, too.

You're so caught up in the moment you're not prepared for Paige to flip you around. You let out a small ah! as she does so, head spinning from the sudden movement. Your back is now against the cushions, leather sticking to your sweaty skin. The blonde slips down onto the tiles in front of you, now kneeling between your legs.

"Hold 'em." Paige's hands are at the backs of your knees, pushing them up until they're almost at your chest. The heels of your shoes knock together and it's a reminder that you're actually still wearing them. You do as she says, clammy hands gripped tight over hers. You watch with bated breath as she slips her hands from your grip, thumb coming to press against your clit through your panties. It's a soft touch but it's enough to make you gush again; what was once a thick white material now a glossy, sheer mess.

"Fuck," Paige breathes. She moves her thumb in small, gentle circles around the clothed area. Your head falls back against the cushion of the couch, mouth open in a silent moan. "This all for me?"

"Always," you murmur, licking your lips as you move your heavy head, eyes meeting hers. "It's yours."

"Yeah it is," Paige nods, her voice coming out strained. She moves to slide her hands up the backs of your thighs and hooks both thumbs into your panties, pulling them up and off your legs until they're hanging around your ankle, exposing your pussy. "So good." she purrs, leaning forward to press open mouthed kisses against you. You suck in a breath when her tongue laps up your slit, nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

She moves slowly at first, and for a moment you wonder if it's because of her own drunkenness, but the longer she goes on the more you're reminded of just how good she is at this. You feel like you're going to explode at the slightest touch, every stroke of her tongue against your clit sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

"Paige," you moan repeatedly, her name coming out like a prayer. She hums against you, hands pressing against the backs of your thighs to keep you spread open for her.

You gasp at the feeling of her warm, wet muscle pushing past your folds to languidly dip against your entrance. "Oh fuck, fuck- babe."

She's sloppy with it, a mixture of your juices and her spit dripping down between your ass and onto the couch. You'll scold her for doing this here tomorrow but right now it's your last concern.

Your toes curl when she shakes her head against you, tongue flicking against your clit. "Gonna make me cum," the words leave you as a sob, mouth hanging open. You feel the wetness between your thighs increase even more when you hear her moan, the vibrations shooting pleasure straight up your spine. "Feels so good."

Paige's fingers dig harder into the skin of your thighs as she continues to lap at you. She pushes her tongue into you again and then moves upwards, pressing sloppy kisses against your swollen clit.

"Yeah, right there, please-" you choke on your own words, the feeling of her nose brushing against your sensitive skin making you jolt. You can't stop the loud cry that leaves you as she sucks your clit back into her mouth, tongue massaging against it.

The room is spinning and your legs start to cramp from how hard your muscles are tensed, nails almost piercing into your skin when the chord in your stomach suddenly snaps. You're practically crying, eyes rolled back in your head when it hits you. Paige helps you ride it out, keeping you pressed to the couch whilst she drinks up your slick. You're trembling, stomach rippling from the intensity.

You expect Paige to pull away, lean up and give you a messy kiss like she normally would but instead she slides two fingers up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness on the tips before she's pushing them into you.

"Wait," you whimper, feet kicking in the air. "Babe, wait, I just- I'm-"

"You're good," she murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your thigh as her fingers slowly pump in and out of you. "I got you, just relax."

You mewl, letting her have her way with you. She starts off slow, fingers curling up deep. The sound is obscene, with every flick of her fingers the wet sound fills the air but you feel no shame, if anything it just turns you on more.

Paige definitely feels you flood her fingers because she picks up the pace, thrusting her fingers deeper into you, curling them with each stroke. Your entire body is coated in sweat, droplets beading against your skin. Her other hand moves from its place on your thigh to spread you wider, opening you up to her even more.

It's all too much; the heat, the way you're spread open for her, the pressure building deep in your stomach. She adds a third finger and the stretch makes you sob, legs starting to shake in your grip.

"I can't," the words spill from you, incoherently. "Please, please I can't."

"Shhh," Paige coos, leaning down to kiss the back of your thigh. "You can, gonna make you cum again."

She curls her fingers and the tip of her middle finger brushes against that spot, her palm pressing down against your clit. The feeling is so intense and you can't do anything but whine, thighs shaking around her.

"So good to me," Paige breathes out, heart hammering in her chest. She watches the way your pussy clings to her fingers, the digits now glistening as she pulls them out of you before thrusting back in. "She loves me, hm?"

You nod feebly, tears slipping down your cheeks, head lolling against the cushions of the couch.

Paige is relentless, fucking her fingers into you with such force you can feel the pressure in your ass. Your legs are starting to burn and so are your hips and it feels like a balloon is being blown up in your stomach, pressure becoming harder to ignore with every pump of her fingers.

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Paige-"

You cum for the second time with a broken sob and you hear it before you feel it, the distant sound of a splash against the tiles below you followed by Paige's load groan. It hits you hard, legs quivering as you squirt around her fingers, the wetness coating the floor. She slips her fingers out quick enough for another gush to leave you, trickling down your ass and onto the leather.

She moans, watching it play out in front of her. It's the hottest thing she's ever seen, her fingers now rubbing against your clit in quick motions.

"Again, again."

"Fuck, I can't-"

"Again." she demands but the word leaves her like she's begging, voice a pitch higher.

It's embarrassing how fast the heat builds in your stomach again, and before you can stop it you're squirting all over again, pussy clenching against nothing as you cry out.

Paige leans down, tongue slipping between your folds to drink you up. You're sobbing, trying to get away from her but you can barely move.

"You're okay," Paige mumbles, soothing her hand down your quivering leg. "I got you, s'okay."

A moment passes, Paige's head resting against the back of your thigh as she strokes her soaked hand against the other. You drop your legs ungracefully, stretching your limbs and groaning when your hips and knees crack after being bent for so long.

"That sobered me up." you whisper, heavy eyelids threatening to close. "Did they put viagra in your drink?"

Paige stifles a laugh, her own knees cracking when she stands up. She holds out a hand you to help you up and you take it with a shaky one of your own. You grimace at the feeling of the wet leather sticking to your bare skin, standing up.

"You ruined the couch."

"Says the one who squirted like a fucking firehose." Paige's hand comes up to push the hair from her face, a bead of sweat dripping down her temple. "S'not my fault I do that to you."

You groan, pushing at her shoulder. "Shut up."

Paige laughs and drops her hands to your hips, walking you backwards towards the bedroom. You stumble a little, bambi-like legs struggling in your heels.

"Get on the bed."

You're pushed backwards onto the bed, bouncing slightly when you hit the sheets. Your chest is heaving, heart still thumping wildly in your chest. Paige is climbing over you, caging you in with her arms and legs. Her lips ghost the shell of your ear,

"Still gotta fuck you in here."

She ducks down and connects your lips, teeth knocking against yours as she does so. Her hips grind down against yours and your hands snake under the fabric of her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders. Paige pulls back to shrug it off of her and throw it blindly behind her, reaching back to pull her crop top off in one fluid movement. She's braless, tan lines from her bikini top prominent against her now tanned skin. The sight alone makes you moan.

You both shimmy up the bed, lips still connected, and when the back of your head hits the pillow Paige's lips are on your neck. You sigh, hand smoothing down her back. Her skin is damp and so is yours, the smell of sex filling the air.

"Please, babe," you whimper, fingers pulling at the waistband of her shorts. Paige hums, sitting up to push them down her legs and kick them off.

"Hmm," she murmurs, fingers sliding over your cheek, thumb resting against your bottom lip. You part your lips, tongue swiping out to lick the pad of her thumb. "You gonna do something for me?"

"Anything."

Wordlessly, Paige pulls off her boxers with practiced ease and begins crawling over you. Her hand rests against the headboard as she steadies herself, the other reaching down to cup her pussy. You lick your lips, eyes flickering between hers and her cunt.

"Please," the word is soft, leaving you breathlessly. "I wanna taste you, please."

"Yeah?" she tilts her head, the pad of her index finger sliding up and down her slit. You watch her gather her wetness and then bring it up to her clit, circling the bud. "Wanna make me cum?"

"Please, please." you grip at her thighs, nails digging into her skin. Paige moans at the feeling, her own hand now moving faster against herself. "Wanna make you feel good."

Paige's hand leaves her pussy and she hovers above you, holding onto the headboard. You lift your head and stick your tongue out, eager for her to sit on you. You whine when she hovers her pussy just above your mouth, tongue swiping out to lick against her folds.

"Fuck, yeah," Paige moans, head dropping forward. Her left hand grips the headboard whilst her right holds onto her pussy, spreading herself open for you. "Yeah, good girl."

The praise goes straight to your core and you moan, tongue darting out again. She's finally sat on your face and your head falls back against the pillow, licking at her cunt like a woman starved.

She starts grinding against your tongue, the slick sounds filling the air. You're making a mess of yourself, saliva dribbling down your chin as you lap at her, tongue dipping inside her.

"S'good," Paige pants, grip against the headboard tightening. "Yeah, like that-oh fuck."

Your tongue flicks against her clit, your thighs squeezing together as a you feel your pussy gush just from making her feel good. She's so warm and wet and tastes so good and you can't get enough, tongue lapping at her clit in quick, harsh motions.

"Keep- fuck- keep doing that," her head drops forward and her hips cant, her movements becoming sloppy as she chases her high. "Right there, yes-"

Her legs start shaking, the muscles quivering under your touch and her hand reaches down, smoothing against your hair. Her hips move erratically, chasing her orgasm.

"Oh fuck, m'gonna cum." she pants, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her breasts. "Keep- yeah, yeah-"

Paige cries out with a broken moan, her orgasm washing over her. She's shaking all over, groaning as you keep lapping at her clit. You drink her up, moaning against her pussy.

"Please," she begs, her voice high pitched. "Fuck, I can't."

She's cut off by her own sob, eyes rolling back in her head. The room is filled with her moans, the sound bouncing off the walls and mixing with the obscene sounds coming from where your mouth is.

Paige is squirming on top of you, the sensation of overstimulation sending waves of pleasure through her body. Two can play at that game, you think.

"So good to me," Paige manages to choke out between moans, teeth gritted. "My fucking girl, s'so good."

You're drunk off of her, her words of encouragement only spurring you on. You roll your tongue against her clit, nails pressing down harder into her skin. Paige fights against your grip, hips lifting up as she pants heavily, forehead pressed against the wall.

She shakily moves her hips backwards and away from your mouth, now sitting across your hips. You're breathing just as heavily, the room spinning around you. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are half lidded as you stare up at her, lips red and puffy.

"You're so hot," you mumble, eyes drifting across her chest. The words leaving you before you can even process them.

Paige snickers, running a hand through her hair. "I know."

"So fucking annoying."

"You love it."

And well, she's not wrong. You reach up, cupping her tits and giving them a firm squeeze. Her hands reach up to cover yours, leaning into your grip.

"You want it?"

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and figure out what she's referring to but when she gestures down to her crotch with a nod of her head, the cogs turn into place.

Paige spots the excitement in your eyes because she sniggers, tongue kissing her teeth. "'Course you do."

She clambers off of you, slight wobble in her legs as she does so. The moonlight dances through the room and you can see the sweat beading against her back, muscles rippling when she digs through her suitcase.

When she turns back she's got the harness briefs dangling from her fingers, skin coloured dildo fisted in the other hand. She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes back at her, urging her to get on with it.

She stands at the end of the bed, slipping the boxers over her feet and up her legs. She fits the dildo into place, bottom lip pulled between her teeth in concentration when she fumbles slightly.

You watch her with bated breath, squeezing at your covered tits mindlessly.

"Keep that on," Paige mumbles, nodding towards your bra. She crawls onto the bed, stopping at your feet. "Turn over for me."

You flip over with a groan, using what little strength you had left to keep your chest flat to the mattress, ass high in the air. Just how you know she liked it.

She affirms your thoughts with a soft moan at the sight of you, moving further up the bed. You feel the plastic brush up against you and it makes your thighs twitch, ass jutting up higher for her touch.

Her hands smooth against your ass, squeezing at the fat of it when you back up against her again. "Someone's impatient."

"C'mon." you urge, shaking your ass just enough to get her to fold. It works, of course, because she moans again- deeper this time. She grips the base of the dildo and slides it between your folds, blunt head nudging your clit. You're still soaking wet, the plastic glistening before she's even put it in you.

"Damn," the word leaves Paige automatically, pupils blown out as she admires your mess. "Ask me nicely and I'll put it in."

You groan against the sheets, fits gripping the cotton tightly. "Please, Paigey."

The nickname gets you a harsh slap to the ass, the impact stinging your skin. You suck in a breath through your teeth but the smirk grows across your lips despite it all.

"Fuck me Paigey, please."

"Shut the fuck up."

She slides in with one smooth motion, intrusion bringing your brows up to your hairline. It stings slightly but the familiar is welcomed, comforting almost.

"Gonna fuck you now," Paige's hands smooth down your back, coming to rest at the base of your spine. "Gonna make you fucking cry."

You strain your neck against the bed to get a peek at her and you're not sure you've ever seen her this wound up before- her eyes are wide, a red flush travelling across her chest and up to her cheeks. She's fucked.

Her hips draw back and then slam back into you, the sound of skin on skin deafening you. She's unforgiving, nails digging into your skin as she uses your hips as leverage to fuck into you. She's grunting with each thrust, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"Yeah, yeah-" you whine, eyes screwed shut as the blonde ruins you. You can just about hear how wet you are over the sound of her skin smacking against yours, the recognisable squelch of your pussy getting louder when she grants you with another slap to the ass. "You fuck me so go-ood."

"Yeah?" Paige breathes out, slapping your ass again. Her hand tingles from the force but she ignores it, slapping your other ass cheek with the same hand. "Whose pussy is this? Hm?"

You can barely respond, body jostling against the sheets.

"Is it mine, baby?"

You nod against the sheets, helpless.

Another slap.

"Tell me."

"It's yours!" you cry out, fingers practically ripping holes into the sheets. "Yoursyoursyours-"

"Fuck yeah it is."

She pistons in and out of you at an ungodly speed and it makes you dizzy- so dizzy you don't even feel your orgasm approaching until you're on the edge, threatening to tip over.

"Cumming!" is all you can let out, the word caught in your chest as your spine curls inwards, heels kicking up against your girlfriend. It hits you like a truck, legs spasming and arms stretching out against the sheets as you cream against Paige. You see spots in your vision, eyes crossing as the pleasure consumes you. You feel everything, and then all of a sudden- nothing.

"You good princess?"

You crack an eye open to see Paige laying beside you, propped up on an elbow. She's gently stroking your cheek with her thumb, hair now pulled up into a messy bun atop of her head.

"Did I die?"

She snickers, leaning across to press a kiss to your forehead. "I killed that pussy, maybe."

You release the sheets that's still gripped in your hand to shove the blonde back but she just sticks her tongue out at you, reaching behind her for a glass of water left on the bedside drawer.

"Drink some, you need it."

She holds it to your mouth and you chug it down, dry throat welcoming the fluid. "I seriously passed out?"

"Eh," Paige shrugs, rubbing down your back. "You were conscious, just about."

"Wow," you roll onto your front, ache between your thighs making itself evident. "You did a number on me."

"Same again tomorrow?"

Your palm smooshes against her face, pushing her away with a laugh.

"Your turn tomorrow, Bueckers."