#I knew the name was familiar but couldn't place it

[v6quewrlds]

❝ candy paint, l. norris. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: lando norris is a lot of things: 100% honest is not one of them. good thing you're around to make sure he owns his weaknesses.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lando fic everyone cheer!! finding my footing writing lando's personality (dry asf) but I'll get there lmao day three of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends with benefits, the max mentioned is fewtrell not verstappen, oral (male receiving)protected sex, neither reader nor lando can shut the fuck up.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: lando norris x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2k.

"You're kidding, right?" you said into the phone, your voice laced with a hint of skepticism. The rain pattered against the window of your apartment, matching the rhythm of your thoughts. You had just returned from a week-long work trip and were looking forward to a quiet evening in.

Lando's voice was as persistent as the rain outside. "Come on, mate. It's been too long. You know I can't wait." His tone was a blend of playful and demanding, the kind that usually made your heart flutter. But this time, you had to draw a line.

"Lando, seriously," you said, a smirk playing on your lips. "What about your little bet with Max?" The mention of Max's name brought a mischievous glint to your eye. You knew how much he hated losing, especially to his friends.

Lando chuckled, the sound echoing through the line. "I wasn't sticking to the bet anyway. I've got to see you." His voice grew husky with desire, the kind of voice that made your knees wobble and your resolve waver. "I'll come to you."

You hesitated, your eyes narrowing as you considered his plea. The thought of seeing Lando sent a warm shiver down your spine. You could almost feel his strong hands gripping your hips, his breath hot on your neck. "Fine," you relented. "But if you want to come over, I'm telling Max you caved."

"You wouldn't," Lando said with mock horror, and you could almost hear his grin.

"Oh, I absolutely would," you replied, the challenge in your voice unmistakable. "You're the one begging to see me, remember?"

The line went quiet for a beat, and then Lando sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, whatever. I'll be there in twenty."

Twenty minutes later, the sound of the door opening and closing was like music to your ears. You felt the heat of Lando's presence before you even saw him. He was soaking wet from the rain outside, his white t-shirt clinging to his muscular chest. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him. "You look like a drowned rat," you said, standing up from the couch where you had been scrolling through your phone.

"Charming," Lando shot back with a smirk, shaking his wet hair like a dog and spraying droplets across the floor. He stepped closer to you, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the freshness of rain. "But it's worth it if it means I get to see this gorgeous face." He leaned in to kiss you, but you playfully pushed him away. "What, no greeting for the man who braved the storm to see you?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Take off your clothes before you drench the whole place," you said, stepping aside. You watched as he peeled off his shirt, revealing the defined abdomen and muscular arms that had your knees growing weaker by the second. You made no effort to hide your eyes sweeping over his form as you bit your bottom lip.

He kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving a puddle by the door. "Better?" he asked, a glint in his eye as he moved closer.

"Marginally," you replied, trying to keep your cool. But when Lando's hands reached for your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace, you melted against him. His touch was like a warm blanket on a cold night, comforting and revitalizing all at once.

You kissed with an intensity that spoke of weeks of pent-up longing, your tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm. His hands slid down your back, cupping your ass, and you felt his erection pressing against your thigh. "You're going to be the end of me," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled away just enough to whisper, "You're the one who couldn't wait." You stepped back, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. With a swift motion, you straddled him, your cotton shorts riding up your thighs. Lando's hands roamed up your legs, his thumbs teasing the hem, hinting at what was to come.

Your round brown eyes searched his emerald ones, a silent question lingering between you two. "You sure you're ready to lose?" you asked, your voice low and sultry. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant patter of rain.

Lando's grin was all the answer you needed. "Love, I'd do anything to taste you right now." His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts, and with a quick pull, they were around your ankles. He groaned as he felt the heat of your bare skin against his.

You giggled, a sound that was music to his ears, and leaned back, placing your hands on his shoulders. "Well, you're in luck," you said, your voice dripping with seduction. "Because I'm feeling quite generous."

Without breaking eye contact, Lando reached for the waistband of his sweats pulling it down with a slow, deliberate movement. His erection sprang free, and you couldn't help but gasp. He was always so beautifully aroused, so ready for you. You slid your hand over it, feeling it pulse beneath your touch.

He groaned, his eyes closing briefly before snapping open again. "Don't tease me," he warned, his voice strained.

"Who's teasing?" you said, your smile wicked. You kneeled off the couch, your soft dark curls brushing against his chest, and took him in your mouth. Lando's grip tightened on the couch cushions, his body arching off the cushions with a hiss.

"Fuck, babe," he groaned, his eyes rolling back. Your mouth was warm and wet, moving over him with the kind of expertise that only came from knowing someone's body intimately. You took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head before pulling back to tease the sensitive underside. You knew every inch of him, every spot that made him squirm, and every spot that made him beg.

You felt a rush of power, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you watched Lando's reaction. You loved the way he lost control around you, the way his cocky exterior crumbled to reveal the desperate need beneath. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper each time, until you felt his thighs tense and his hips jerk upwards.

"Goddammit," he breathed, his hands finding their way into your hair, guiding your movements. "I can't wait anymore." He pulled you off him, his eyes dark with need. "Get on top," he said, his voice a gruff command.

Your heart raced as you straddled him, your own desire matching his. You watched as he reached into the pocket of his sweats, retrieving a condom he casually slid over his length. Then you felt him at your entrance, his fingers eagerly pushing your panties to the side, and with a little wiggle, you sank down, enveloping him in your warmth. Lando's eyes rolled back in his head, a silent groan escaping his lips. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, a sweet ache that you had missed.

You found your rhythm quickly, your bodies moving together as if you had been practicing this dance your whole life. Lando's hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips as you rode him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons of pressure as you rose and fell. Each time you took him in, you felt like you were claiming a piece of him, a piece that was yours and yours alone.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a testament to your passion. You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against Lando's chest, and whispered, "Couldn't even go two weeks, could you?" Your voice was teasing, but it held an underlying satisfaction. You knew you had the power to make him break his bet.

"Fuck the bet," Lando groaned, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "You're all I need." His words were punctuated by his hips bucking upwards, pushing into you with a desperation that sent a shiver down your spine. The room grew hotter, the scent of your desire mixing with the dampness from the rain outside.

Your movements grew more frantic, their breaths mingling in the air. The couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the intensity of your passion. You felt yourself getting closer, your inner muscles tightening around him. Lando's grip on your hips grew firmer, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Come for me," he urged, his eyes burning into yours. "Let go, baby."

You threw your head back, your dark curls bouncing off your shoulders as you picked up your pace. The sensations grew more intense, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Lando's hands moved from your hips to your breasts, his hands squeezing at the bouncing flesh before leaning down to bring his mouth to the peaks. You gasped, the pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your voice a little raspy. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your orgasm approaching, the familiar coil tightening in your belly. You leaned into him, your movements becoming erratic as you chased the feeling.

Lando could feel you tightening around him, your breath coming in short gasps. He knew you were close, and it was his undoing. He thrust upwards, his own release building. "Fuck," he groaned, his eyes meeting yours, silently pleading for you to let go.

With a cry, you did. Your orgasm washed over you, making your body convulse. You felt him swell inside you, his own climax following closely behind. You held onto each other tightly, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony until the waves of pleasure subsided.

For a moment, you stayed just like that, panting and sweaty, your hearts hammering in your chests. Then, Lando leaned in to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips that spoke of affection and satisfaction. He pulled out of you with a soft groan, and you felt a twinge of loss. But the warmth of his body remained, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

"You're amazing," he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that made your skin prickle. You leaned into the embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. This was your thing, your little slice of heaven, left uncomplicated despite your close friendship.

You lay there for a while, your bodies entwined and your breaths slowing. The rain outside had turned into a gentle pitter-patter, lulling you into a state of post-coital bliss. It was moments like these that made the world seem to stop spinning, where the only thing that mattered was the warmth of each other's skin and the sound of your hearts beating in unison.

You leaned back and looked into his green eyes, the corners of your mouth curling up in a knowing smile. "So," you began, "Are you going to man up and text Max now, or should I?"

Lando groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushion. "You're enjoying this way too much," he said, a hint of a grin playing on his lips.

"I like seeing you squirm," you replied, your voice light and playful. You reached for your phone on the coffee table, your eyes gleaming with mischief. You knew Lando was competitive to a fault and losing was not something he took kindly to, especially not when it came to something as serious as a bet with Max.

Lando's eyes narrowed playfully as he watched you type away, his arms still around your waist. "Don't be too detailed," he murmured, his grip tightening slightly.

You glanced up at him, your smile widening. "Oh, I won't," you said sweetly, sending the text. "But he's going to know you didn't last five minutes."

Lando's eyes shot open. "You didn't!"

"Oh, I did," you said with a laugh, the sound like a melody in the quiet room. "And you know what?"

He tugged on your hair gently, bringing you closer. "What?"

"It was worth it," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. "Every single second."

You kissed him softly, your tongue darting out to trace his bottom lip. Lando's eyes closed, savoring the moment, his arms tightening around you. He knew you were right, that the thrill of being with you was worth any bet.

[karaeilishh]

TAKE ME BACK : smut

summary: you're going to a party with your cool girlfriend. When she stops paying you proper attention, you switch to a random guy in a bar. and she won't like it at all...

warnings: dom!billie, sub!brat!reader, jealousy, strap (r receiving), degradation, oral (r/billie receiving), r called a slut many times

w/c: 3,4k

a/n: eng is not my first language! enjoy this dirty shit <33

requests open!

“Hey babygirl. You look upset. Can I please you with a cocktail?”

You roll your eyes once again, sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the corner of some club that Billie brought you to because her friends really wanted to see her. You were on the other side of town and you knew that you wouldn't be home until morning, because it was well past midnight, and your girlfriend didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Billie was drunk enough and this evening you regretted not drinking alcohol. At least you wouldn't be so bored and lonely.

You've been hanging around your girlfriend for the last two hours so that she would pay attention to you, but her attention was only on her friends, whom she hadn't seen for a whole week. You didn't know why everything turned out this way today, because usually Billie can't take her eyes off you; You put your head on her shoulder, pressed your bare thigh against her thigh, you whispered in her ear, but you only got: “Babe, later.” Later? Fine. Your patience has run out.

You step onto the dance floor; hungry glances at your beautiful curves. Billie told you to wear that fucking mini dress that hugs every muscle on your stomach, your chest and parts of your thighs. Who can blame other people for their looks when you look like a damn angel? You don't even start dancing; you walk away to someone's brazen whistle; what do these men allow themselves? It's always like with a piece of meat. You want to go to Billie, but the thought of her telling you to just sit in silence again is maddening; you go to the bar. There are a lot of men, but you carefully walk past them and sit on the bar stool. 

“What?” You woke up in a few seconds. There's a guy in front of your face now, no, more like a man. He has an atypical neat outfit for a place like this. The club stinks of other people's sweat and drunk people, but it has a nice perfume. You don't know why you noticed it. His perfume? You can definitely feel it, he leaned closer, repeating his question.

“I asked if I could buy you a drink?” You heard him this time, but you couldn't answer him right away. You can't agree because you're here with your girlfriend, you're taken. But does she even care about you now? After all, nothing will happen if you just talk with someone at the club while your lover is not paying any attention to you. “Please don't tell me you don't drink. I'm not creative for another reason to get to know each other” Actually, you don't drink, but you can agree, right?

“Um, could you get a mojito for me? I don't like strong drinks.” The man nods knowingly and smiles. “Everything for a sweet girl in a bar” He signals to the bartender, apparently they are familiar. 

“Did you hear what the lady said? Mojito. And pour less rum” He turns to you, saying that your mojito will be done in a minute. You nod and thank him, trying to fight the strange feeling in your chest. It's like you're going to be punished for talking to him.

“You're very beautiful, but you're not talkative. I bet you don't go to places like this often?” He tilts his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what and who you're thinking about right now. You adjust your dress and look up at his face. “Yeah, I don't like noisy places.” His gaze darted to your hands resting on your hips.

“I get it. Well, tell me, what's your name?” His voice echoes in your head. You want to tell him that your acquaintance shouldn't go that far, you're going to say “No” when you hear a familiar voice behind you. “No.”The smell of her perfume hits your nose, her tired face with bruises under her eyes is in front of your eyes, her hair is scattered on your bed. Her voice is usually gentle, but not now.

“I'm sorry?” He's not looking at you. He's looking at someone behind you and you know exactly who it is. Her hands are on your waist, on your hips. She's only been here for a few seconds, but she's already been able to claim you. You can't see her face, but you know damn well she's giving your new friend a murderous stare right now. “Apology accepted” The next moment, she drags you through a crowd of drunk and stoned people right to the exit of the club. She's a little shaky because of the amount she's drunk. It's cool outside, but your body is burning because of her. Billie drags you on until you're around the corner where no one will bother you. Your body hit a cold brick wall, her voice cut through the tense air between you, you shuddered. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Your fingertips touch the wall behind you, her drunken breath on your face. You didn't like it when she drank, but the smell of alcohol was never annoying. “I was just talking to him.” You sound quieter and more insecure than you thought you'd be. Your eyes are directed straight to her eyes, hungry and greedy, you are breathing heavily. “Is that why he's ordering you a drink and trying to find out your name? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? If he offered to fuck you, would you be so responsive?”Her voice is loud and a little hysterical. Her hands are in the pockets of her shorts, but you can feel how much she wants to touch you.

“You're exaggerating, Billie.” You look at her, your voice is cold, but everything inside you is burning. You know that she always turns you on like that, even though you hide it. “Am I exaggerating? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She grins, her hand on your wrist, until she interlaces your fingers randomly. She takes you to the car and you try to tell her that she can't drive, but she shuts you up. “If you act like a slut, I'll treat you like a slut.” Billie pushes you into the car and buckles your seat belt. She's so damn angry, the veins in her arms are bulging, but she still cares about you, and this one makes your hips clench harder. It makes you wet. The air in the car heats up when she slams the door and sits in the driver's seat. Her gaze is focused on the road, but her mind has turned into your home.

The long drive home is accompanied by her rapid breathing. You can literally hear her heartbeat. You can see the different scenarios of that night unfolding in her head. All of them are ended by your face pressed against the mattress while she fucks you. Her hand squeezes her hip, she bites her lip and you feel what's happening to her. You know for sure. You gently take her hand and put it between your legs. She swallows hard, her fingers squeeze your skin and you melt under her touch. “You're fucking driving me crazy, you know that?” She parks the car in the garage of your house, and the next thing you remember is her all over your body, when you crash into the bedroom door, Billie, dragging you inside. Your body falls onto the mattress, your breathing is knocked out, and your hair is already slightly disheveled.

“You're going to have to apologize properly, angel.” You're breathing heavily, looking into her eyes with obvious desire. You feel completely naked under her gaze, which screams at you that you are a fucking slut. For her. Billie's movements are feverish as she pulls off her shorts, reaches for your favorite drawer in your bedroom. Your eyes widen when she picks up your favorite strap. His curves were perfect for you, hitting the right spots. You're looking at it greedily. And Billie saw it.

"Such a greedy girl for a dick, don’t you?" She grins as she puts the toy down on the bed next to you. Her body hovers over yours as she devours you with her gaze. Her hand flies to your neck, squeezing tighter than usual. "I wanna destroy, babe. I wanna fucking destroy you so that you learn your lesson." Your mind is drifting because of her words, you want to push her to do it.

"It was your fault." You look into her eyes, clearly seeing something snap inside her. Her grip on your neck tightens and you feel like you're getting less air. "What?" Her voice was so threatening that you were almost sure your underwear was already soaked. You knew that no matter how mean she was, she would never hurt you more than you asked for.

"I said it was your fault. You ignored me all night! What are you-" Your words get caught in your throat when you feel a painful blow on your thigh. You swallow hard, looking into your girlfriend's eyes. You've seen her lose control when you act like this. But how can she blame you when you're so desperately begging her to destroy you?

"You dare accuse me of acting like a slut, craving my attention? Well, you'll get it." Billie's voice drips with arrogance. She knew she should have given you some attention, but she's always been too much of a bitch to admit she was wrong.

She pulls you to your feet, forcing you to stand in front of her as she attaches the strap on her hips and sits on the edge of the bed. "You wanna be a brat, babe? Then I'll have to shut you up." She looks up at you, then leans down and whispers, "Knees."

Right now, you want nothing more than to drop to your knees and take her strap so deep that tears run down your cheeks and your knees are red. "I'm not being a brat." You hiss, looking into her eyes. You know this won't turn out well.

"Didn't you hear me?" She raises an eyebrow and pushes you down, causing your knees to hit the floor hard. You whine, clutching her knees for support. “Angel, don’t make me move your head on my own. I know you want this.”

You gasp at her words, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. You lean down slowly, running your tongue along the length of her cock. Your eyes lock onto her face as you slowly push the strap into your mouth. Maybe your slowness was on purpose. “Come on babygirl, I know you can do better.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your hair. Your head moves at an unusually fast pace. You grip her hips tighter, trying to slow her down and suppress your gag reflex. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep up the pace and not choke on the silicone in your mouth. You try to moan her name, but Billie just smirks.

“Good sluts don’t complain, huh, babe?” She pulls your head away from her cock, holding your hair. Your lips are smeared with your spit, your cheeks are wet with tears. You breathe heavily. “You are my good slut, aren’t you? Use your words.”

“Yes, yes I am…” You swallow hard, looking at your girlfriend with undisguised desire. You knew this night would be long, very long. “Very good….”

Billie takes your hands and lays you down on the bed, her eyes wandering over your body, your mess. “Such a beautiful angel for me. Too bad I have to ruin you.” She chuckles and you whine, squeezing your thighs together tighter. She reaches for your legs, lifting your dress up to your waist. Billie smiled at the beautiful underwear you’re wearing . “For me?” She smiles, spreading your legs and pressing two fingers into your soaked panties. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping!”

You gasp when you finally feel her hands on you. You bite your bottom lip, watching her tease you. “Did you get wet kneeling in front of me? Or was it when I called you a slut at the club, hm?” Her eyes are playful as she looks into yours. You both know the answer, you both know that she doesn’t have to do anything to you to get you wet. “At the club…” You answer quietly and Billie bites her lip. God, she looked so sexy doing that.

"And who are you so wet for, huh?" She takes off your dress over the top, her mouth flies to your breasts. She bites it through the fabric of a lace bra. You moan, throwing your head back. "You, you, Billie… Please!" Your despair causes sincere satisfaction in your girlfriend. She knows that you will never want to leave her for someone else. She will make you squirm under her touch while you repeat that she is the only one for you.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Billie praises, kissing and biting down your beautiful body. She adored your body. Such a divine and only hers. You could feel the marks on your skin under her touch. “Bils, I need you. I really need you...” You're whimpering, making her smile.

“Do you think you can handle it?” She bites her lower lip, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze makes your body weaken even more. She had no idea what kind of influence she had on you. “Yes, yes I can, I promise!” You get up on your elbows to get a better look at her face.

“What a dirty girl,” Billie giggles, bending down to pick up the edge of your underwear with her teeth. Oh, you were crazy when she did that. Her every action, her every breath and look made you lose yourself in love with her. Even if she was going to destroy you right now. Your woman.

“Baby, you're so wet. Is my girl ready for me yet?” She smiles, easily sliding two fingers into you. Her palm pressed against your clitoris, adding extra friction. Her fingers slid inside you so easily that you were ashamed of how wet you were because of her. “Just shut up...”You exhaled heavily, covering your face with your hands. She laughed.

“Oh, my little slut wants to shut me up? I don't think it's going to work, baby.” Billie abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips. She greedily licks each phalanx of her fingers, moaning contentedly. You looked at her from under your eyelashes, still feeling the aching emptiness without her fingers inside you. As soon as Billie cleaned her fingers, she licked her lips, bending over your body. “You need to learn to watch your tongue, angel.”

These words sounded more harsh than anything else. Billie grabbed your hips and turned you over on your stomach. Your face was buried in the mattress and your ass was hanging in the air when Billie left a few ringing slaps on your delicate skin. “Hey!” You're whimpering, looking at her over your shoulder. “Oh, spare me those pathetic sounds.” She presses your head against the mattress, burying her hand in your hair. The tip of her strap teases your entrance, making you gasp with desire.

“Please, Bils...”You close your eyes, praying that she will give you what you want. “Not a brat anymore? It seems you just need a dick to shut that beautiful mouth.” She grins and you feel her cock slamming into you. Silicone slides easily inside you, making you grab the sheets and whimper into the it. After making a few slow thrusts, you feel Billies's hips against yours. She entered completely. “That's it, baby. You take me so well...”

You let loud moans fly from your lips when Billie finds the perfect angle, driving into all the right points. There are new tears in your eyes. A new pleasure. Your hair is disheveled and tangled because of your girlfriend's tight grip, and there is no trace of evening makeup left. She's always made you like this. She destroyed you with her presence, her voice, her gaze, her dick. “Faster...”

Billie grins at your plea, but obediently complied with your request, pushing into you with a new speed. You grab the sheets, looking at her over your shoulder. How sexy she looked. “Where's my sweet angel, huh? You're such a mess, baby.” You whimper when you see how she looks at you.

“Billie... I'm so close...”You're mumbling to yourself, praying that she'll hear. Of course she did. But she was such a bitch tonight. “What? Angel, I don't understand a word...”She was teasing and playing with you. You both knew what she was waiting for.

You want to sigh, but only moans come out of you. On trembling and weak hands, you get up on your elbows and try to talk to her the way she wants. Politely. “Billie, I wanna cum... Please, can I?” You immediately fall back, burying your face in the sheets, when pornographic moans come out of your mouth.

“Mm, such a polite girl... Cum for me” You laugh hysterically, feeling your walls squeeze her strap. It was the best feeling in the world. Your eyes are tightly closed, you literally bite the sheets, arching your back as you cum on her dick. You can't see her face, but you can tell for sure that she's smiling, watching what she's did to you. Not that guy from the bar, not anyone else. She. Only she could do it.

“Jesus, Bils...”You're breathing heavily, lifting your head from the wet sheets. Her strap is still moving inside you, helping you overcome a hard orgasm. “That's it, baby, you did so well...”She praises you by stroking your hair. It's one step from tenderness to rudeness, huh? Her grip tightens abruptly, forcing you to look at her through tears. “God, my poor baby. What a pity that I'm not finished with you yet” You're breathing hard, your mouth is dry, and you're sticking your tongue out like a fucking puppy after her games. Billie leans closer, her face inches from yours, and you already know what she's going to do. You always know what's behind that look. She collects saliva in her mouth for a few seconds and spits on your fucking tongue. As if you didn't ask for it yourself. Her warmth spreads over your tongue and you close your mouth. “Swallow” You obey and she gently kisses your cheekbone. The only thing she did gently this evening.

Billie turns you over on your back, laying your head on the pillows. She settles between your legs, devouring your body with her gaze. “Open wide for me, love” She purrs and you obediently spread your weak legs. Billie runs his fingers through your folds, collecting moisture. She brings her fingers to your mouth. “Suck” You swallow hard and take two of her fingers in your mouth, circling each with your tongue.

While you're engrossed in her fingers, Billie bends down to your pussy and runs her tongue over it, making you sigh and bite her. She hums into your flesh, looking up at you with adoring eyes. “No teeth, baby.” She grins and continues to devour you like a hungry animal.

Your sensitivity made itself felt and you tried to pull out her fingers to tell her, but she just pressed them against your tongue, depriving you of any opportunity to speak. You instinctively raised your hips, warning her. Your legs were shaking with pleasure and pain from over-stimulation. Your heels were crumpling the fabric of her shirt. You almost choked her with your hips. But she was just getting turned on.

Billie tapped your hips, giving you tacit permission to cum again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, showing you the stars of pleasure. You can't help but bite her fingers again, but this time she lets you, seeing your condition. She helps you get through your orgasm and gets up to put her head on your chest.

“I'm so proud of you, dove... But we'll have to change the sheets.” She starts laughing, and you can't help but pick up on her laughter, even though you're a little embarrassed. You gently run your hand through her hair, removing the hair band that has almost come off her hair. You put the band on your wrist and hug her tightly.

“You know you're my only one, right?”

“I know, angel.”

[hvnyrt]

Voice in the Wind - ALTERNATE ENDING

JASON TODD X READER

I have never really written angst before, and I was really happy with the way my last work came out, but I couldn't help but want the reader and Jason to end up together in the end ;’) So I wrote a quick alternate ending to the same work, a happy ending this time, enjoy!

SUMMARY: Jason has been struggling with the idea of a relationship, fighting inner battles with himself constantly, you convince him to open up.

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You. 

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction." 

Except you werent. He knew it. 

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating. 

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?" 

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost. 

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you. 

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively. 

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel. 

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending. 

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness. 

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead. 

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended. 

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything. 

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear. 

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Jason's gaze lingered on the skyline, the weight of the city pressing down on him. His fists were still clenched, his jaw set tight, but inside, a storm was brewing, one that was just as chaotic as the one in the streets below. His heart was a mess of confusion and fear, and even though he wanted to push you away — needed to push you away — something about your quiet presence beside him made it feel impossible.

When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, almost like a whisper, yet it cut through the thick air between you with the clarity of truth. "You don't have to do this alone, Jason."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. He’d heard those words before, but never with the kind of sincerity that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the universe. That maybe, just maybe, there was someone who saw through his walls, someone who wasn’t afraid of the darkness he carried.

He shook his head, his voice rough, trying to hold onto the hardness that kept him safe. "I told you, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like."

"I don’t need to," you replied softly. "I just need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Not if you let me stay."

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest, the words stirring something deep inside of him, something that scared him more than anything. He wanted to say something — push you away, explain why this couldn’t happen, why he couldn’t let you in.

But the words stuck in his throat.

You took a step closer, not backing down, but not rushing him either. And for the first time, in the midst of all the noise inside his head, he realized that you weren’t asking him to fix himself. You were just asking him to be real. To stop pretending. To let you in.

Without thinking, without even fully knowing what he was doing, Jason reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. The proximity felt like a tug, a pull he couldn’t ignore. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you stood there, looking at him with those eyes that had always been so damn patient, so damn sure.

And in that moment, something inside Jason broke open — a crack in the walls that had kept him safe for so long. He didn’t need to pretend anymore.

He moved before he could stop himself.

One step, then two, and suddenly, he was close enough to feel your breath against his skin, close enough that he could see the way your lips parted slightly, as though you were holding your own breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

And then, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you, Jason closed the gap.

His lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed any harder. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand reached up, cupping the side of his face, and you kissed him back, steady and sure.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The tension that had held him captive for so long unraveled, piece by piece, until all that was left was this — you, here with him, unafraid.

He kissed you deeper this time, a soft but desperate need in the way his mouth met yours. The world felt a little less heavy, like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on his own anymore.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing in the same air, your hearts syncing in a way that made everything else fade into the background. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. But the words he didn’t have to speak were already there — in the way his hands found your waist, in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice rough with the admission. "Scared I’m not… enough. That I’m too broken for anyone to be here. To be what you need."

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around him, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me, Jason. That’s more than enough.”

His chest tightened at your words, the sincerity of them striking deep. He wasn’t used to hearing that — wasn’t used to anyone seeing him for who he really was, not the mask he wore to survive, not the monster he sometimes thought he was.

But you did.

He let out a breath, the weight of everything in him finally beginning to lift. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jason closed his eyes, his heart a little lighter than before. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe he didn’t have to be the hero, or the villain, or the broken man he always saw in the mirror.

Maybe he just needed to be someone who didn’t have to face the world alone.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason realized that he wasn’t as lost as he thought. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he was ready to face whatever came next.

And he was ready to face it with you.

[lukalnst]

o em gee i was so happy to discover you and that you also wrote for alien stage! i’ve loved all of ur works so for and i couldn’t help but want to request something as well! would it be possible to request some hurt/comfort with till from alien stage? maybe you both got into a little fight or ur jealous abt something idk im not vv creative but feel free to skip this if you like! thank you for reading and have a great day <333

Jealousy + Till x Reader

Includes: Hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, eventual fluff don't worry,,, light angst , a few kisses , short

A/N: I'm so glad you were happy to discover me heehhee ^.^

If it was jealousy, you were used to it.

Still, you really couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous when Till spent time with other people — yes, you couldn't have him all to yourself all the time, so you had to share him with other people... Still, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

The way he expressed himself with other people was... different. He was different when he was with you and when he was with others. Did he not feel safe enough with you? Were you not good enough of a partner? Many questions filled your mind, most of which you guessed would remain unanswered as for now.

He also seemed... content to be with other people. What if he found someone else who was better than you? Someone who made him feel more loved than you could ever make him feel?

It hurt so much just to think about it.

Eventually, you had grown distant from him. This didn't go unnoticed by Till, though. He noticed the small changes in your demeanor, the way you wouldn't share as much about yourself as you used to do.

One day, while you two were lying in bed, he tried to place his hand on your shoulder, to which you just moved away slightly. He couldn't pretend as if things were alright anymore.

First, he called out your name. "Hey. I can tell somethin' is wrong. Do you wanna talk about it?" his voice seemed to be gentler than usual, if you were upset, he didn't want to make you feel worse than you probably already were.

You stayed silent for a while, and you felt a small knot form in your throat. Despite this, you decided to reply. "It's – well... you just seem so happy to be with others, and... I'm not sure if you will be happy with me," you continued. "I mean.. what if you find someone better?" Your voice slightly cracked.

Till himself was familiar with feelings of jealousy, but he was much more shy about them. That wasn't what he wanted to focus on right now, though. "Someone better?" he asked.

"I really don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't care for others, really," He positioned himself so you could maintain eye contact with him better. "I want you with all of your flaws and imperfections... All that sappy stuff, I want you with all of your qualities."

Your eyes were filled with tears soon enough, many of whom were spilled and had started to run down your face. He wanted you with all of your insecurities — he managed to see right through them, too.

"Hey, don't cry," He uttered out. He was quick to wrap his arms around you and softly kiss your tears away. "I love you, so be happy, okay?" He planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

You hadn't exactly had someone care this much about you... most people wouldn't care to reassure or comfort you, but Till was different.

"One day, it'll just be two of us. You can ignore all the pricks who ever tried to take my attention away from you." He smiled softly at you, something which was an unfamiliar sight for others to see.

As he softly held you in his arms, you knew you'd be safe with him. He wasn't going to find someone better or leave you anytime soon. At least, that's what you wanted to tell yourself.

He softly whispered small words of reassurance into your ear, then pressed his lips against your own.

[mj-iza-writer]

Heyyyy. So random idea but there’s this experiment, can not remember the name :/, but they put a guy in a green house with lowered oxygen levels to see if the plants would produce enough oxygen to keep him alive for a few days.

Guy knew what he was getting into, but imagine a whumpee who didn’t. Whumper doesn’t say anything until the door is locked and the oxygen is lowered. So whumpee has to become very aware of how much they breathe in. But whumper is watching, just so their test subject doesn’t die.

Also good luck on whumptober! Can’t wait to see your takes on more prompts!

Thankyou so much for the good luck wishes for Whumptober. I have never heard ofbthis experiment. I do hope I did your request justice.

Whumpee was pulled from their cell early in the morning.

They were told to strip and prepare for a full body examination. After that, they were given a shower.

Nothing else was told to them. Nothing.

Whumpee paced back in forth in a sterile room. It had been hours since anyone came in.

"What do you want from me?" Whumpee couldn't control their nerves any longer.

"We are making sure you are safe to be used in this experiment... lab rat... be patient. Be happy that we even care about your health", a familiar voice came over the intercom.

"Whumper, please just tell me", Whumpee pleaded.

It was quiet... no reply.

Whumpee lowered themself to the ground and looked up at the camera.

"Please, I'm a good lab rat", Whumpee begged, "please I don't want to die."

Just then, the door opened.

A tall person in a hazmat suit came in and looked over Whumpee.

"Follow me to your experiment sight", they ordered, "do not touch a thing. You may ruin everything if you take outside germs in."

Whumpee stood quickly and nodded.

Whumpee was fitted by a team of scientists. They wore a heart monitor, oxygen monitor, and a helmet to monitor brain waves.

Whumper entered the room once Whumpee was deamed ready.

"Alright, this is a very important experiment. I need you to be on your best test rat behavior. Am I clear?"

"Yes", Whumpee nodded, "what's the experiment?"

"I can not tell you. It will mess with results", Whumper sighed, "just know, I need you to tell me every different feeling you experience. Everything during this needs to be noted. Even the tiniest muscle spasm... tell me everything. Understood?"

Whumpee quickly nodded.

Whumpee was placed in front of a door. A blue light shown up and down them, and the room.

Once done, the doors cranked open.

"Whumpee walk forward into the room", Whumper ordered.

Whumpee followed orders and went forward.

They entered a giant glass dome full of all kinds of flowers

Whumpee marveled at everything, "it's beautiful in here", they looked around for any cameras.

"It has taken a long time to prepare for this", Whumper spoke over the intercom, "you will be spending the next several hours in here, so do enjoy. Their are several snacks and drink for you. Even a few activities to entertain you. You will be monitored the whole time. We can hear everything you say. If you feel any differences, then tell us."

"Okay", Whumpee nodded, "am I allowed to walk around and look?"

"Yes, you may", Whumper chuckled, "we would like you to after all of our hard work making this green house."

Whumper turned off the radio.

"Take the oxygen level down to ninety percent", Whumper spoke over their shoulder.

Whumpee skipped along as they looked at all of the plants. All of the flowers looked beautiful. Most smelt so sweet.

Two hours passed.

Whumper came back into the monitor room.

"Status", Whumper looked into the green house from the viewing room.

"Whumpee sits comfortable at eighty-five percent oxygen. They voice no differences. Monitors also show their levels are fine.

"Decrease oxygen level to sixty-five then", Whumper frowned, "I want to reach fifty percent."

"Doc, that isn't... "

"Did I stutter?", Whumper turned, "sixty-five", they hissed.

After several moments, Whumpee looked up.

"Did something change? I don't feel right", Whumpee frowned.

"What are you feeling?", Whumper questioned.

"My chest feels tight, and I'm not sure if I'm breathing right. My head also feels weird", Whumpee felt their head, "did something happen?"

"I don't know Whumpee. We are looking into it", Whumper turned to one of the testers.

"Their heart rate has sped up. That explains the tightened chest. I suggest we restore oxygen levels", the tester frowned.

"Lower it to fifty", Whumper turned back to view Whumpee.

"Doc, that... you're going to kill them", another scientist spoke up, "Whumpee is your favorite. We can revisit this test with someone else. Someone we can push past their limits."

"Fifty... we are so close to where I wanted today's test. Take it to fifty. Only for a few minutes."

The scientists lowered the number.

Whumpee looked around as if they were confused.

"I'm getting... really... dizzy", Whumpee tried to hold themself up, "and... tired."

"Doc... heart rate has decreased substantially. Their body is displaying a large level of stress", the scientist warned.

"Restore oxygen to the rat. I want full reports on how their body handled it. Once retrieved from the greenhouse, take them to medical for another full body exam. I want all reports by tomorrow morning."

Whumper turned and watched as Whumpee studied the cameras. They took in Whumpee's heavy breathing.

"The rat does not go back to their cell until I've cleared them", Whumper turned to leave, "they will know nothing of today's test, and what happened to them until I tell them."

Whumpee quickly fell asleep once they were in their recovery room. It had been a long day for them.

Whumper told the nurses to call once Whumpee woke up.

Whumper was beginning to worry when it took so long to hear from anyone.

Whumpee looked up from their meal tray when Whumper walked into their recovery room.

"Man! Did I miss seeing your blue skin?", Whumper smiled as they sat down.

Whumpee nodded as they looked over themself, "I don't know what happened to make it do that though. No one will tell me anything."

"I know why that happened", Whumper sighed, "so I am going to tell you what that test was because I do not plan to use you for it again. It's a test you can do only once because you'll know what to expect now. You will not be allowed to speak with any of the other rats though. You are in solitary so I can protect my test. Am I clear?"

Whumpee nodded.

"The test I just put you through was to see if plants could sustain a human life if oxygen wasn't available. You started to feel a difference when the room was giving you sixty-five percent oxygen. This tells me that the plants can sustain, but not enough. I lowered you to fifty for a few minutes because I wanted to make it to fifty with the test. You started to go unconscious, so we quickly returned the oxygen to you. Your skin was blue because of the test."

Whumpee scowled at Whumper, "I-I... why woukd you have to do that? I-I don't like you now."

"Well, civilization won't like it if the earth were to ever run out of oxygen. So there's that", Whumper leaned back into the chair, "it had to be tested. I wanted you to do the first trial test because you're honest. Plus, I don't really care... what.. you... why haven't you eaten anything?" Whumper frowned at the meal tray, "you need to eat something. You haven't eaten for a long time."

Whumpee quickly wiped their eyes, "I didn't kn-know if I-I was allowed. This looks dif-different from my norm..al food", Whumpee's lips quivered.

Whumper pulled out their computer and looked up Whumpee's account.

"It's safe for you to eat. I cleared your dietary restrictions for the time being. I'm only working on the greenhouse experiment right now. So you don't have a diet. There are no nuts in that either", Whumper grinned as they read over the meal, "they even served you cake."

"Cake?", Whumpee looked up, "I haven't had that in a long time. Is that what this is?"

"Yes. I know you haven't been allowed to have any sugar for a while", Whumper grinned, "am I forgiven now?"

"Can I have a soda? Maybe if I get a soda", Whumpee grinned mischievously.

"Hmm, you're driving a hard bargain", Whumper looked over the notes on Whumpee's test, "but I can't have my favorite lab rat mad at me."

Whumpee's smirk widened.

"Alright, you may have one can of soda. You'll have to wait until tomorrow though. You've already had a lot of sugar with that juice and cake. It's been a long time since you've eaten like this... you could get sick", Whumper closed their computer, "I will deliver it to you tomorrow when I assess you. I would like you to spend the night in here. We will see how you are doing tomorrow. I may clear to go back to your cell if you are alright."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou."

Whumper stood, "alright... am I forgiven for taking away your oxygen for a little while?"

"Yes doc, I'm just glad you gave it back", Whumpee grinned.

"Get to eating. I'll be back tomorrow. Be a good patient for the nurses as well. No soda if you misbehave", Whumper started for the door.

"I'm always a good patient. Just not to you since you do things like take away oxygen", Whumpee giggled, "I can't believe I get to eat cake."

Whumper nodded, "get some rest. You've earned it."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

staring at you. l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Summary:  he saw her in a bar and then everything changed

Warnings:  fluff, slow burn, two people are looking for each other

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a few days now. I hope for a few chapters. I don't know if anyone will read this... if that's you, good luck.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

chapter 1.

The first time he saw her was at the bar where he was with Benny and Will. It was a nice Friday night. The place was full of people having fun, pleasant music mixed with the buzz of conversation and laughter, and Frankie was sitting at the bar slowly finishing his second beer.

The feeling that he was being watched didn’t leave him, so he raised his eyes and looked around. At first he thought that Will might be looking for him in the crowd, although he had clearly told him where he would be. 

And then, on the other side of the bar, he saw gentle eyes staring at him. For a moment he thought that she must have mistaken him for someone else. But when their eyes met, she smiled, and Frankie felt a pleasant tickle in his heart.

She raised her drink as if she was making a silent toast, and he did the same, without taking their eyes off each other, they finished their drinks.

The decision was quick, but not quick enough. The urge to approach her was overwhelming, but when he finally lifted his ass off the bar stool, another woman approached her, whispered something in her ear, and she quickly stood up.

One last look, and she disappeared into the crowd of people.

The second time he saw her was a few days later, in a local store. And this time, the universe wasn’t on Frankie's side. 

His brain quickly registered a familiar face. After all, he had spent most of his last days thinking about this lovely stranger. 

He completely ignored Benny, who wanted to buy a beer for Saturday's match, and, leaving him the cart, he set off after his target.

His eyes were devouring her figure, and the girl must have sensed that someone was staring at her. She turned around and spotted him almost immediately. A beautiful and sincere smile appeared on her face, as if she had seen a long-lost friend.

Frankie smiled too. He moved towards her, bypassing a family with small children and an old couple arguing over laundry detergent. But this time he failed too.

The girl answered the phone, grabbed her shopping and quickly headed for the exit. Before she was out of sight she turned around and found his gaze. Frankie saw a sad smile on her face, her lips moving in a silent "I'm sorry."

And she disappeared again.

After a week he spotted her in the city, but before he could react the traffic lights at the intersection changed color and the driver behind him started honking, urging him to move.

"Fuck!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

It wasn't even a game of cat and mouse. It was more like catching smoke and Frankie found himself looking for her among other people almost all the time. To no avail.

"Does she even exist?" Benny asked when he finally told him about her.

"Of course she does!" Frankie mumbled, scratching his head and pulling his baseball cap back on. "I don't even know her name, but I can't stop thinking about her."

He didn't know her name. He knew nothing about her. All he had was a few exchanged glances, a few smiles. It was next to nothing, but it seemed to Frankie that that should be enough to find her. Right?

And then fate dealt him a good card for a moment. Or maybe he himself contributed to it. He took the same chair again in the same bar. Now alert. His gaze wandered over the faces of the guests and each time he straightened up when the door opened. The first hour passed, and then the second. When doubt slowly started to creep over his skin, that's when he saw her.

She must have entered when he blinked, because Frankie couldn't find any other explanation for it. She was talking to some girl, but her eyes wandered around the place as if she was looking for someone. Him?

Now Frankie didn't wait anymore, didn't hesitate. He immediately headed towards her, afraid that she would slip away from him again. She noticed him the moment she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and her face lit up.

"Hi." was all he could manage.

"Hi." she replied, her voice sounding beautiful in his ears. "We should stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, a bit stressful." he laughed quietly.

He felt as if her eyes were devouring him and heat seeped into the back of his neck. No one had ever looked at him like that, it was even a little embarrassing.

Frankie wanted to say something, make a joke or ask if he could buy her a drink, but then a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

In a second her hand was on the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. Her lips met his in a soft and sweet kiss. A few seconds during which his heart almost stopped beating.

When she pulled away from him she was still smiling.

"I had to, I'm sorry." she said.

"Jesus, don't apologize." he rasped in surprise. "I mean... We’ve already done this in my head." God! He would do anything for that smile. "Maybe I can buy you a drink?"

"I can't. I should probably go now..."

Something in her eyes changed, some small detail that Frankie noticed right away. He quickly pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket.

"Will you give me your number?"

She hesitated for a split second, but took his phone anyway.

"Just please don't give me the number of a mechanic or something." he snorted, and she shook her head. "Your real number?"

"Check."

She handed him the phone and Frankie dialed the number she had entered. A soft ring sounded in her purse. They both laughed.

"I'm Frankie, and you are?"

She gave him her name, and he repeated it quietly. It was a nice feeling, finally being able to name the being who had been living rent-free in his head for a long time.

He opened his mouth to say something when the phone in her purse rang again.

"Not me now," he joked, but she lifted her hand slightly and reached for her phone.

She was visibly worried as she read the message, and then looked around for her friend.

"I'll have to go now, Frankie." she said as she nodded to her friend “I wish I could stay longer, really.”

He could tell in her voice that she really meant it. He felt strangely sorry for her, he didn't know why.

"Maybe we could meet up?" he suggested.

"Will you text me?" she asked.

"Sure. If that's what you want..."

"Yes, please."

She squeezed his hand gently, smiled, and left.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[idkyetxoxo]

Six | Enchanted | Aemond Targaryen

Word count - 3795

Warnings - None

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A week had passed since that night in the pool, yet the memory of it clung to me like a half-forgotten dream, teasing the edges of my mind. The gardens were far behind me now, replaced by the lively hum of the common room. 

I lay sprawled across Nymor's lap, his fingers absently combing through my hair, while the raucous banter of his friends swirled around us like a familiar, comforting melody. 

Their teasing voices were a pleasant distraction from the thoughts that had been haunting me since the pool—thoughts of Aemond and the dangerous pull he seemed to have on me.

The negotiations between my father and Viserys were progressing, each day pulling me closer to the inevitable. 

The impending marriage loomed over me like a storm cloud, dark and inescapable. 

Everyone around me treated it as a certainty as if it had been written in the stars long before I ever had a say in the matter. 

But deep down, a part of me still fought against it, clinging to the hope that there might be some way out, some path that didn't end with me standing beside Aemond Targaryen, bound to him for life.

And yet, even as I yearned to escape, I couldn't fully banish the memory of him. 

His sharp gaze, the way his touch had set fire to my skin—it haunted me, even as I tried to shake it off. 

There was something about Aemond that intrigued me, something beyond the cold mask of duty and power. I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't deny the truth any longer—I didn't completely despise him. 

If anything, I was captivated by the man beneath the dragon prince facade.

But then there was the other truth—the one that gnawed at me like an open wound. His family had laid waste to my homeland, without a second thought, without remorse. 

And that was something I could never forget, no matter how tempting the man himself might be.

"What are you thinking about?" Nymor's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, his fingers prodding my cheek in an attempt to bring me back to the present.

"My doom," I muttered dramatically, swatting his hand away. His friends erupted into laughter, the sound rich and warm, filling the room like the flickering hearth.

"So awfully cynical, princess. Where is that carefree girl we know and love?" Yoren teased, nudging my legs with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

I sat up, crossing my legs as I sighed. "I don't want to leave Dorne," I admitted, the weight of the words settling heavily on my chest. 

Leaving this place—the sun-drenched gardens, the sea breeze that tasted of salt and freedom—felt like losing a part of myself.

"Then don't," Yoren said with a casual shrug, as if it were that simple. His flippancy stung, though I knew he didn't mean it to.

"It's that one-eyed fool, isn't it?" Nymor's voice was tinged with both annoyance and sympathy, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. 

I rolled my eyes, but the mention of Aemond sent a shiver through me, a mixture of frustration and something I didn't want to name.

"Ah, we've heard the whispers of a union in the making," Maric chimed in with mock seriousness, raising his brows in exaggerated intrigue.

"My father insists upon it," I mumbled, leaning forward to grab Yoren's cup. He jerked it out of reach, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Get your own wine, princess," Yoren teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Marry one of us," Maric suggested with a chuckle, though there was a glimmer of something sincere in his eyes. "Stay in Dorne forever. You'd never have to leave."

The idea was as tempting as it was impossible, and I let out a hollow laugh. 

"If only it were that easy," I said, but even as the words left my lips, I couldn't help but wonder. 

What would my life look like if I stayed? If I let myself forget the weight of duty and allowed myself to indulge in the carefree moments that Dorne offered?

Yoren leaned forward suddenly, his face contorted in an exaggerated pout, making ridiculous kissing noises that sent me into a fit of giggles. 

In the midst of his antics, I seized my chance, swiping his cup of wine with a victorious grin.

"Give it back!" he exclaimed, lunging after me, his fingers closing around my wrists as he loomed over me with a mock stern expression. 

I stuck my tongue out at him in defiance, holding the cup just out of his reach. "Make me," I teased, the playful challenge lighting a spark in my eyes.

Nymor laughed beside me, shaking his head as he playfully slapped Maric's chest. "Looks like you've met your match, Yoren."

The warmth of their laughter, the teasing banter—it was a world away from the heavy tension that followed me like a shadow. 

For a moment, I let myself get lost in it, in the easy companionship of these men who didn't expect anything from me except a shared drink and a laugh. 

I flirted with the thought of staying here forever, of letting these light-hearted moments fill the spaces that Aemond's memory couldn't touch.

But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, I couldn't entirely forget him. 

The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it was like a flame that flickered at the edge of my mind, refusing to be extinguished. 

Even as Yoren hovered over me, his playful grin inches from mine, I felt the pull of that night in the pool, a lingering thread that tied me to Aemond, whether I wanted it or not.

"Wine," Yoren demanded again, though there was no real force behind his words, just the playful tug-of-war between us.

I grinned up at him, the spark of rebellion still dancing in my eyes. "Come and get it," I challenged, holding the cup just out of reach as he leaned in closer.

"Princess," a voice called from the doorway, and the lively room fell silent as all eyes turned to see the Targaryen siblings standing in the threshold. 

The sudden shift in energy was palpable like the air had been sucked out, leaving a charged stillness behind.

"Are we interrupting?" Aegon drawled, his smirk widening as he took in the scene before him. 

Yoren, still holding my wrists in a playful grip, dropped them immediately, stepping back with a sheepish smile. The light-heartedness evaporated as if snuffed out, leaving only the prickling tension.

"Yes," Nymor responded dryly, his voice laced with amusement, though I could sense the edge beneath it. 

He remained seated, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they flicked between the intruders. 

Yoren and Maric's laughter returned, momentarily dispelling the tension like a wave washing over the room, a weak attempt to restore the lightness that had been so abruptly shattered.

"Your father sent us," Helaena added softly, her voice a contrast to her brother's. 

She was gentler, always was, and there was something kind in her gaze as it lingered on me, as though she understood more than she let on. But it wasn't me she was looking at with that subtle interest—I noticed her gaze flicker toward Nymor. 

Her fascination was evident, and despite the current tension, I couldn't help but wonder how deep her interest ran.

"If you're too busy entertaining others, we can leave," Aemond interjected, his voice sharp, dripping with venom that cut through the air like a blade. 

His words were pointed, but his eye, his gaze—it was all on me. 

There was no mistaking the jealousy simmering beneath his composed exterior, the barely concealed possessiveness that rippled through his voice.

Nymor stiffened beside me, his usual easy-going demeanour darkening as he rose to his full height. 

"Are you insinuating something about my sister?" His voice was low, but it seethed with barely-contained fury, his eyes locked onto Aemond's with a promise of violence. 

The room, which had been buzzing with life only moments ago, now felt like a powder keg ready to explode.

Aegon, sensing the rising tension, looked thoroughly amused by it all, his smirk widening as if he was eager to see where this was going. 

But before things could escalate further, Helaena tugged him by the arm, pulling him back with a roll of her eyes, her patience clearly worn thin.

"We should go," she said firmly, dragging a protesting Aegon along with her. He looked disappointed as if the potential for a brawl had been the highlight of his day, but he allowed himself to be led out. 

Still, his laughter echoed faintly down the corridor as the door swung shut behind them.

Yoren and Maric quickly exchanged glances before quietly standing and shuffling out of the room. They knew better than to stick around for what was coming. 

Now it was just the three of us.

Aemond didn't move. His gaze, as cold and unrelenting as the winter winds, remained fixed on Nymor. 

"Perhaps I am insinuating something," Aemond said, his tone calm but laced with challenge, his body language as unmoving as stone.

In one swift motion, Nymor stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides, barely containing the storm of anger that radiated off him. 

"You have no right to talk about her," he growled, jabbing a finger hard into Aemond's chest. His voice was low, dangerous—a warning that he was inches away from losing control.

Aemond stood his ground, his expression unreadable, though the glint in his eye gave away his satisfaction at having provoked Nymor. 

It was a power play, and Aemond was revelling in it. The room crackled with unspoken tension, each man daring the other to make the next move.

"You think you can speak about my sister like that and get away with it?" Nymor spat, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. 

His breath came in shallow, angry bursts, and for a moment, I feared the restraint he had would snap.

Aemond tilted his head slightly, a lazy shrug rolling off his shoulders, his expression barely shifting. 

"I speak the truth as I see it," he said coolly. "If you can't handle it, that's your weakness."

Nymor's fist clenched tighter, his knuckles white as his rage spilt over. "The truth?" he repeated, his voice rising with the heat of his anger. 

"You don't know the first thing about her." His words dripped with venom, and I could feel the tide of the moment shifting into something dangerous.

Aemond's jaw tightened at that, the mask of indifference slipping for the briefest second. His voice was a quiet, lethal whisper as he leaned in, a dark smirk playing on his lips. 

"Careful, Nymor. You're speaking to the rider of the largest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms." His words were soft, but the threat beneath them was unmistakable.

In an instant, Nymor's hand shot out, grabbing Aemond by the collar and yanking him forward so their faces were mere inches apart. 

"Say one more word about her," Nymor hissed through clenched teeth, his grip on Aemond's collar unyielding, "and I'll—"

"Enough!" My voice rang out, sharp and commanding, cutting through the tension like a blade. 

Both men froze, their eyes snapping toward me as I stepped forward, my expression a mix of frustration and steely authority. 

"Nymor, let him go." My words held a weight that neither of them could ignore.

For a moment, Nymor hesitated, his grip still tight on Aemond's collar, his eyes burning with a fury that demanded release. But when he met my gaze, something shifted. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he released Aemond, shoving him back with a frustrated grunt.

"You're not helping me by losing control like this," I said, my tone gentler now but still firm. "Leave us. I need to speak to him alone."

Nymor's eyes flicked between me and Aemond, a muscle in his jaw working as though he was about to protest. 

"He doesn't deserve your time, let alone your words," he muttered darkly, but after a tense moment, he relented. 

His hand twitched at his side as if itching to throw another punch, but he stepped away, turning toward the door with one last icy glare at Aemond.

"But if he says one more thing—" Nymor started, his voice taut with barely contained rage.

"I'll handle it," I cut in, my tone softening just enough to calm him. "You know I can."

Nymor lingered a moment longer, his fists still clenched, before giving a terse nod. He cast one final look at Aemond, filled with simmering fury, before storming out of the room. 

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the now-silent room.

For a long moment, silence hung between us, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. 

Aemond's smirk returned, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eye as if he was weighing the moment carefully.

"You didn't need to send him away on my account," he said, his voice low and drawling, though the amusement in his tone didn't quite reach his eyes. "I can handle Nymor."

I stepped closer, my face impassive, carefully concealing the turmoil roiling within me. "This isn't about you 'handling' anyone," I said evenly, keeping my voice steady, controlled. "It's about knowing when to stop."

His smirk faltered. "Is that what you think? That I don't know when to stop?"

I met his gaze, holding it with unwavering strength. "You're pushing him because you want a reaction. But we both know this isn't about Nymor." 

My voice softened, but there was still a sharp edge beneath the words. "So tell me, Aemond—what is it you really want?"

For the briefest moment, his expression shifted, and I saw the cracks in the carefully constructed façade he always wore. 

The arrogance he wore like armour seemed to drain away, leaving something raw and vulnerable in its place. His jaw tightened, but the biting retort I expected never came. I

Instead, he hesitated, searching my face as though the answer might be written there.

"I want you," he finally whispered, his voice strained like the admission had cost him something. 

The air between us felt impossibly heavy as the words settled like a stone in my chest. He took a step closer, and I could feel the weight of his confession pressing against my resolve.

I stayed silent, letting the moment stretch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me. 

But when his hand lifted to cup my face, his touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down my spine despite my best efforts to remain composed.

"You are unlike anyone I've ever met," he murmured, his voice intense, each word deliberate. "Fierce, determined... utterly captivating." 

His gaze held mine, and for the first time, I saw something genuine in his eyes, something that unsettled me more than his usual cold confidence. "I cannot imagine my life with anyone but you. You've become part of me, consumed my thoughts, my every moment."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep breathing, to keep standing. His words were heavy, laden with meaning, with the kind of vulnerability I had never expected from him. 

For a moment, I almost faltered—almost let myself believe in the possibility he was offering. But I knew better than to surrender so easily.

Slowly, I reached up, my hand wrapping around his wrist, and I gently pulled his hand away from my face. 

"Aemond," I began, my voice steady but tinged with something darker, something deeper. "How am I supposed to forget who you are? How do I ignore the history between our families, the blood that stains your name?"

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by my words. This was a part of me I had never revealed to him, a truth I had buried deep but could no longer keep hidden. 

I had been raised with the stories of what his family had done, the destruction they had brought upon my people, my home.

He stared at me, the shock plain on his face. It was as if he hadn't expected me to hold onto the past, to care about it in the face of his feelings. But how could I not?

"I don't want to conquer anything but your heart," he said softly, stepping closer again, his voice almost pleading now. "I don't care about power or politics when it comes to us. I just want you. That night we spent in the gardens..." 

His voice trailed off, the memory lingering between us like a ghost. "It's all I've thought about since. I don't want it to be the last."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. 

His sincerity was undeniable, and I could feel the weight of his words pulling me in, making it harder to keep the distance I so desperately needed.

"Our fathers are already discussing the match," I said quietly, forcing myself to focus on the practicalities, on the things that kept me grounded in reality. "The alliances they hope to build through us—"

"Your father won't force it," Aemond interrupted, his voice urgent. "Not if you don't want it." 

His tone softened, and for the first time, there was a vulnerability there, a rawness that caught me off guard. "But say yes. Say you'll choose me."

I turned away, unable to look at him. The weight of what he was asking felt like it might crush me. 

"If I say yes, I have to give up everything," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. "My home, my family, everything I know. I would have to leave my father, my brother, my people... for a life in a city that will never truly be mine."

He exhaled slowly, the realization sinking in. I felt him move closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But you would have me. We could build something—something that's ours."

I turned back to face him, my gaze locking onto his. 

"At what cost, Aemond?" My voice was quiet, but the question rang out like a challenge. "Do you really believe love can erase everything that stands between us? Can it undo the scars of history, the blood spilt by your ancestors?"

Aemond's eye searched mine, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to still. 

It felt like the weight of every decision we would ever make hung in the balance, suspended in the thick air between us.

"I need time," I finally said, the words escaping before I could stop them. His expression shifted, the hope in his eyes dimming, but he didn't interrupt. "This is too much, Aemond. You may be certain of what you want, but I..."

I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. I didn't have the luxury of being as sure as he was, and the stakes were far higher for me. "I need time," I repeated, my voice firm but quieter.

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Aemond's jaw clenched, his frustration evident, but he didn't push. He just stood there, watching me, waiting for something I wasn't ready to give.

"I can't stay here," I whispered, turning toward the door, feeling the pull of escape. 

My heart pounded in my chest, torn between the desire to stay and the need to flee, to buy myself more time.

Aemond took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop me. "You don't have to leave," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "We can figure this out."

I forced a weak smile, meeting his gaze one last time. "I can't. Not right now."

He nodded slowly, the flicker of hope in his eyes dimming to a quiet resignation. "I'll wait," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

I hesitated at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. 

Part of me wanted to turn back, to offer him something—anything—that might ease the tension between us. But the weight of history, of what he was asking, was too much to bear.

"I'll think about it," I said, my voice steady again. "But I can't make any promises."

With that, I slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. The second I was alone in the hallway, I released a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside me finally breaking free. 

My heart was racing, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions I couldn't quite untangle.

I walked quickly, the echo of my footsteps the only sound in the silent corridor. The farther I got from Aemond, the more the reality of what had just happened sank in. 

He had laid everything bare, but I couldn't forget what stood between us—our families, our histories, the sacrifices I would have to make.

When I reached the courtyard, I stopped, letting the cool night air wash over me, soothing the storm inside. I looked up at the stars, wondering how I had ended up here, torn between what I wanted and what I knew.

Could I really give up everything for him? Could I trust him, trust us, enough to believe that love could conquer the scars of the past? I didn't know.

All I knew was that I needed time. Time to think, to weigh the future that Aemond was offering against the life I had always known.

The air bit at my skin and my thoughts drifted to Alaric. The ease, the simplicity of being with him was tempting—a familiar escape from the whirlwind that Aemond stirred inside me. 

With Alaric, everything had always been so... uncomplicated. No deep questions. No heavy expectations. 

Just the physical release that dulled the ache, numbed the confusion. I knew if I went to him now, he wouldn't ask why. He wouldn't ask for anything at all.

For a fleeting moment, I considered it. The thought of his hands, the distraction, the way he could make me forget for just a little while. 

It would be so easy to lose myself in him again, to drown out the impossible choice looming over me. But then, a sharp pang twisted in my chest, and I stopped in my tracks. 

What would that solve? A night of pretending, of running, wouldn't change the fact that my heart was caught somewhere else—caught between the impossible pull of Aemond and the weight of everything I was supposed to be. 

Alaric might help me forget for a night, but the reality of my choices would still be waiting for me in the morning.

I sighed the decision settling over me like a heavy cloak. I couldn't hide from this, no matter how much I wanted to. 

With one last glance at the stars, I turned away from the direction of Alaric's chambers and instead headed back toward the shadows, alone with my thoughts, and the uncertainty that lingered like a storm on the horizon.

There was no running from this—not anymore.

A/n - Not as slow as I would like but we are nearing the end and I need their relationship to pick up a bit x

Enchanted tag list - @mamawiggers1980 @shilphy87 @esposadomd @targaryendestiel @deepeststarlightmoon

@thebirdandthebee @queen-of-elves @believeinthefireflies95

[uas-fics]

Title: Tripping into Friendship

Rating: E

Summary: Leshy trips over a cat in the dark.

Ships: LeshyCat can be read platonically.

Warnings: Spoilers for the post-game,

Other Information: I was gonna wait to post this but I think people needed a distraction today.

Read on AO3

---

The air smelled pleasantly of incoming rain. The clouds had to be obscuring the moon. Not that it matters at all to Leshy whether the pale face in the sky showed its light down on the cult grounds. He couldn't see it anyway.

Leshy counted under his breath as he picked his way carefully back from the outhouse. He sniffed the air to ensure he could still find his scent from his earlier trip.

...thirty-three steps, thirty-two steps, thirty-one steps...

He tripped over something large and soft and stumbled face-first into cold dirt.

Leshy swallowed a mouthful of earth and cringed. The dirt in this horrid place was nothing compared to the potent and complex flavors of his Darkwood. He ran his tongue around his mouth, gathered the remaining pieces of bland dirt then spat them out.

Whatever he tripped over stirred and started to grumble.

"Huh? What...Oh, my Lamb!"

Soft paws touched Leshy's shoulders as a vaguely familiar voice apologized.

So it was one of The Lamb's little followers he had tripped over. Had he taken a wrong turn heading back towards his shelter, or had the follower moved to sleep in his path? Either answer, Leshy hoped this fool knew how lucky they were. Had he had his crown and power still, their blood would be watering the flowers of Darkwood and their flesh feeding his army of devotees.

The follower attempted to haul Leshy to his feet, but Leshy threw his arm out, pushing them away. He did not need help!

He stood and wiped the inadequate dirt from his knees.

"Again, I am terribly sorry, Mr. Leshy," The follower continued, and Leshy finally recognized the voice:that one yellow cat—well, Narinder told him this follower was a yellow cat, anyway. He didn't know for sure.

He hadn't bother to learn any of The Lamb's precious little flock's names or voices. They were unimportant. The only reason he remembered this one in particular was the cat's act of disgusting kindness in giving him a flower and reassuring words that, of course, Leshy did not need or want.

"You had better be," Leshy snapped. "What are you doing in my path, anyway?"

"My tent collapsed," the yellow cat explained. "It happens sometimes. Usually, The Lamb fixes it but they are resting after their crusade, so I thought I could sleep outside until morning."

"Oh, no, you should definitely go and wake them." Leshy smirked. "They are a god now. They do not need sleep." The thought of ruining The Lamb's slumber tantalized Leshy, but before he could continue to goad the yellow cat, a fat drop of water hit the top of his head. He turned to face the sky as more droplets fell.

The yellow cat sighed. "So it is supposed to rain. I was worried about that."

Leshy took a deep breath. He liked the rain. The humidity it brought with it freshened his leaves.

His favorite part, however, was the sound that came with a downpour.

The sound of heavy raindrops hitting the leaves of Darkwood was like music, a primal drum beat only found in his lands. His heart sank. It was a beat he would probably never hear again.

He took another breath to shift his attention away from his sorrow and homesickness.

"Son of a--!" Leshy jumped in realization.

"W-what?" The yellow cat gasped.

"My scent trail!" Leshy gritted his teeth. The downpour had already started to wash away his lifeline back to his shelter. What was worse, he'd forgotten what his step count was, too. Great! Now he would have to spend the rest of the night trying to find his way back in the rain!

"Do you need help to your shelter?" The yellow cat asked. "I can take you!" He sounded cheerful as if helping a dethroned god back to his humble shelter was something he looked forward to every day.

Leshy should have told the him to leave, but he was tired and wanted to get back into his shelter. He needed his sleep for when he inevitably had to deal with The Little Lamb and his brother bossing him around.

"I will allow it, but put your hand down. I will not take it."

The yellow cat made a noise of confusion, and Leshy gave a cheeky smile. He didn't need eyes to predict what someone like the yellow cat would do. While his realm had been the constant change of chaos, Leshy had a good mind for order and predictability, as well.

"Just take me back," he ordered.

A pause—Leshy guessed he probably nodded—then the yellow cat hastily said, "Of course! Follow me."

---

Leshy almost regretted not taking the offered paw as the two made their way back to his shelter. The rain drumming against the ground made it nearly impossible for him to hear the cat's footfalls—if he could have heard them at all in the first place.

He remembered all the times he would watch Narinder sneak up on Kallamar, walking casually with those silent feline feet of his, just to make their older brother jump when he tapped his shoulder.

Leshy almost smiled at the memory but pressed his lips together to force it away. Narinder wasn't fun anymore. He was boring and bossy. Go do this, Leshy! You can't eat that, Leshy! The Lamb says, Leshy...

He couldn't wait until The Lamb brought back Heket. She wasn't boring, just bossy, but Leshy had grown accustomed to her ordering him around in the thousand years he, Heket, Kallamar, and Shamura had ruled the lands.

And when she gets here, I will not have to feel so alone

Leshy scowled into the darkness at the uninvited thought.

The Lamb's flock didn't like him. Most seemed scared of him, as far as he could tell. Those who weren't rightfully scared only spoke to him with anger and resentment. Unless prompted by necessity, the followers did not interact with him. They didn't invite him to sit during dinner or join in a dance circle. He could not entirely blame them. Outsiders in his own cult were treated with the same level of suspicion, even the ones from his siblings' cults.

The only follower who treated Leshy with warmth seemed to be the one leading him, and Leshy could not understand why.

The two made it to his shelter without Leshy tripping on anything or anyone else. Even with the heavy rain, the strong smell of camilla that circled the shelter wafted to Leshy. He had planted the flowers as part of his claim to the shelter from seeds The Lamb brought from Darkwood.

Leshy felt along the side of the thick wooden shelter until his fingers brushed the canvas door. He pushed it open and stepped inside the warm building.

"Are you coming in or not?" he asked, keeping the grand shelter's door open with one arm.

Though he loath to admit it, it would not be a bad idea to make some...alliances in the cult now that he was stuck here. He smiled to himself. Shamura would be so proud of his forethought.

The yellow cat muttered his thanks before slipping under Leshy's arm. Leshy dropped the canvas closed then shook the water from his body. Drier now, he moved forward until his feet hit the nest of mostly ill-gotten blankets he called a bed. He flopped down to his back.

The rain beat against the roof in a steady rhythm as the wooden structure groaned against the weather.

"Wow, this shelter is really nice. It's warm and sturdy!" The yellow cat complimented, sitting down at the edge of the blanket pile. "The Leader must like you to let you live here."

"It is unworthy considering my past station, but it will do."

The Lamb had not given Leshy the roof over his head. In actuality, Leshy claimed the shelter when the previous occupant dropped dead near the shrine one day. Leshy made sure both his brother and The Lamb knew he would bully anyone who tried to take it from him. His threats were enough to make The Lamb relent and allow him to move from the pathetic canvas tent he had been sleeping in.

Leshy took a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, careful not to get it stuck on his branches. He yawned and leaned with his back pressed against the wall.

"Sleep wherever. It does not matter to me."

Leshy listened as the yellow cat shuffled around his shelter for a moment. It had to be dark, so, like Leshy himself, the yellow cat was blind to his surroundings. He brushed his fingers against Leshy's tail, only to jerk away and mutter an apology.

Leshy would roll his eyes if he still had them. He took the blanket from his shoulders and tossed it to where he thought the yellow cat was. A muffled 'oof!' confirmed he hit his target. He pulled a second blanket from his nest and returned to his cocoon of warmth.

"Thank you. Um, good night, Mr. Leshy."

Leshy grunted in response and drifted off to sleep.

---

It wasn't quite morning yet when Leshy woke again, as he couldn't hear the bustle of The Lamb's flock or the smell of breakfast cooking. The rain hadn't stopped, but it had faded to a light drizzle.

From beside him, something breathed deeply. Leshy nearly pushed it away before remembering the events that unfolded a couple of hours earlier. He slowly reached his fingers and brushed warm fur. The yellow cat was pressed against his hip, sound asleep.

Well, Leshy had told him to sleep wherever.

Leshy ran his fingers along the fur until he found a particularly soft spot near, what he assumed, was the yellow cat's ear. He absentmindedly stroked the spot, enjoying the warmth under his fingertips.

The yellow cat began to purr, a resonating sound that filled the shelter. He stopped, startled. He had forgotten that cats did that when they were comfortable. More than a thousand years had passed since he'd had a cat purring so close to him.

He pulled his hand to his chest. What was he doing? He didn't know this cat.

What if he woke up angry that Leshy touched him? If Leshy was going to gain favor with this cat, he had to...oh, what was it The Lamb had said? Oh, yes, Leshy would have to 'put his divine entitlement' to the side.

Though thousands of years protecting Darkwood earned him that 'entitlement', Leshy knew The Little Lamb had something of a point.

The yellow cat shifted and Leshy stiffened. Had he woken him?

The yellow cat yawned and squirmed around until his head and arms rested on Leshy's lap. He released a heavy, contented sigh.

Leshy cautiously put his hand on the top of the yellow cat's head and petted the space between his ears.

The yellow cat began to purr again, vibrating against Leshy's lap.

As Leshy began to nod off, he decided since the yellow cat laid on his lap, the petting wasn't 'entitlement.' It was just being fair.

----

The warmth around Leshy was suddenly pulled away, leaving him cold and annoyed.

"Get up," Narinder ordered, dropping the blanket he'd so cruelly taken with a soft plop. "The Lamb says you aren't allowed to keep skipping morning sermons, Leshy."

Leshy groaned, covering his head with his arms. He didn't want to listen to The Little Lamb prattle on, He wanted to listen to--

Leshy pushed himself up and started feeling around for the yellow cat.

"Where did he go?" He demanded of his brother. "Where is he?"

"He?" Narinder asked. "Whom do you mean?"

"You know, him! Ah, um, that—the yellow cat! He was just here!" Leshy threw his hands up in exacerbation. Nothing else lay in the bed beside Leshy.

"Yellow...cat?" Narinder echoed. "Oh, the one I saw sneaking out of your shelter this morning? What was it, Cornelius, Cathleon, Consus? Something with a 'C,' anyway, I think. Or maybe a 'T'? Thornton? Thimothy? Mmm, I cannot remember. If you are bedding him, should you not know?"

He had a sneer in his voice that graded against Leshy's nerves. Leshy clenched his fists. He knew his brother was trying to make him mad—and it was working!

"Do not speak on matters that do not concern you," Leshy grumbled.

Narinder snorted a laugh. "He will be at the sermon. You can go and ask his name there." The shelter's canvas flapped as his brother left. "Or not. It does not matter to me."

Leshy bristled. He stood and his side felt suddenly cold as he recalled the yellow cat leaning against him in the night. He lashed his fist out, hitting the wooden wall in anger. If he ever became a god again, he was going to cull the cat population, or at least any that acted like his damned brother!

He swore under his breath as he headed towards the door. He threw open the canvas. The scent of rain still hung heavy in the air. The wet grass brushed droplets on his ankles and feet as he stepped out. The cult was alive with morning activity. The smell of cooking food made his stomach grumble.

He opened his mouth to shout for his brother when another voice cut him off.

"Mr. Leshy, you are awake!" The yellow cat chirped.

The scent of fresh bread and warm berry jam filled Leshy's nose as the yellow cat pressed a leaf bowl into his hands. "I got you something to eat, as thanks for letting me stay with you last night."

Leshy felt the skin under his leaves heat up at the kind gesture. Before he could answer the yellow cat, from beside his front door, Narinder called, "Why, good morning there."

"Oh, ah, um, good morning, Disciple Narinder," The yellow cat greeted with a touch of embarrassment in his tone.

Narinder chuckled darkly and a shiver crawled up Leshy's spine.

"You know, Leshy was just telling me," Narinder put his hand firmly on Leshy's shoulder and squeezed, "that he was so excited for you to escort him to the temple for the morning sermon."

Leshy started to snap, "I said n--" when he smelled the yeasty bread and sweet jam in his hands and stopped himself. He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to hear that vile creature spew lies and false promises about the afterlife, but, hadn't he decided allies would be useful last night?

He sighed. "I said...I would like to sit in the back. In case, it gets so boring I fall asleep."

Narinder patted his back while chuckling. Leshy whipped his head around in an attempt to take a bite out of his brother, but his teeth snapped against empty air.

With one last, victorious laugh, Narinder whispered in Leshy's ear, "Too easy." before he took his leave.

Leshy threw some of the jam-covered bread in his mouth and chewed loudly, annoyed that he walked right into Narinder's trap. Despite their thousand-year rift, his brother still knew him too well.

The yellow cat covered a laugh with a cough. "You two don't look alike, but I guess you two are really brothers, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately," Leshy muttered. He stepped backwards until his tail brushed the camilla plants around his shelter.

The yellow cat wandered closer to continue their conversation.

"I know he was putting words in your mouth," The yellow cat said. "You should go to the sermon, but I won't drag you if you don't want to go."

Leshy took another bite, chewing slowly as he thought. Finally, he swallowed and asked, "Why are you being so nice? What do you gain from it?"

"'Gain'?" He repeated. "I guess I'd be gaining a friend—and a friend who is an ex-god at that."

"An ex-god who put your god's throat to the blade," Leshy pointed out before he could think better of it.

"But they came back, so it doesn't matter, does it?"

Leshy nearly choked on his food. He had heard rumors that orange cats were as smart as a stack of rocks, but it seemed yellow ones didn't even have that.

The yellow cat patted his back as he coughed. Once he could breathe again, Leshy chuckled with a shake of the head. This cat was something else, and Leshy was starting to like whatever that something was. This cat was no Heket, of course, but he would not be so bad of a friend to have around.

Leshy finished up the last of his breakfast and started ripping up the leaf bowl.

"Well, Let us get this over with," he said, spewing half-chewed bread as he dropped the leaf pieces to the ground.

He held out his hand. When the yellow cat didn't take it, Leshy asked, "Are you going to lead me there or not?"

After a heartbeat, the yellow cat placed his palm against Leshy's, and the two headed toward the temple.

----

AN: This one-shot is dedicated to my cat, Morwen, whom I tripped over and is the reason I have a carpet burn scar on my knee months later. Love you, boo!

[valentinachatte]

I'm back and i brought an new OC to this blog :3

Meet Arwen Traime, my Twisted wonderland oc

This is some basic information about her

Template by Ai_kan1

Under the cut will be more fun fact about her

All these questions is made by Miriaocs

1. Name: Arwen Traim

- Arwen means a noble maiden, very beautiful, or muse, all three meanings are suitable for Arwen

-Traime Mainly made from Tremaine

- Rook calls Arwen Dame de la pluie, which means Lady of the Rain, which is a nickname people often use (because when Arwen appears, it often rains). Rook also calls Arwen Reine de la pluie

- Floyd calls Arwen stingray-senpai (Akaei-senpai). The reason is because Floyd realizes her danger despite her gentle appearance, but the real reason is because of her ponytail. The stingray looks gentle so I chose that nickname :)))

2. Inpso: Arwen was inspired by Lady Tremaine, when I first learned about the game I also wanted to create an OC, and decided to choose Lady Tremaine without looking at the cast... and then when i finally play the game and saw saw professor Trein, at that time I almost finished building Arwen and couldn't bear to leave her 😅

3. Age/Bday: She is 18 years old. Birthday is on May 20, close to Silver and Deuce's birthday

4. Dorm: Dorm leader of Celfam, when I created her I created her dorm myself. Dorm Celfam is based on Lady Tremaine's flexibility . Arwen is flexible, and knows how to make people do what she wants but is also cold like Lady Tremaine. Currently, she lives with Lucasta (vice dorm leader, who is based on Lucifer), the two are close friends

5. Class: Arwen is in class 3C with Vil and Lucasta. Vil and Arwen talk quite well. Studied together for 3 years

6. Height: Arwen is 1m75 tall, weighs 50kg

7. Hair/Eyes color: Gray-blue hair with white highlights. Two-colored eyes but few people notice because the two eye colors are close together, one eye is jade green, and one eye is emerald green

8. Homeland: Homeland is in the Vault of Memory (imagination country that i created). No one in the cast is from the same hometown as Obv, she knew Kalim and Idia before coming to NRC because her family was familiar with the Asim and Shroud families

9. Club: Didn't join the club because she was too busy with work and because of health issues

10. Subject:

Best Subject: History of magic, Arwen is extremely good at this subject because she is a diplomat and has to remember all the big and small events.

Worst subject: Physical education (make her run 3m and she faints).

She gets along well with Mr. Trein and often asks Mr. Trein to learn more about historical events. Physical education is unavoidable

11. Hobby: She likes sightseeing, especially places with water like waterfalls or lakes, once at the lake near the ruins she met Malleus there, and from then on the two of them often went sightseeing together

12. Pet peeve: chewing makes a sound, she is super annoyed with that. she will glare at the person if they do it near her

13. Food: likes strong flavors because her taste buds are very bad. She has no preference for food, but will not eat poorly prepared dishes. Often shares with Lucasta (Lucista gets it herself)

14. Talent: Excellent diplomacy, very good at talking

15. Unique Magic: "Back to your place"

- Arwen's special magic allows her to control others according to her command (not hypnosis but direct manipulation)

- Incantation: -"heed my words and follow my command, Back to your place"- changed from the sentence - "Cinderella will be put in her place." Lady Tremaine's

- Weakness: very corrosive to the user, the biggest loophole is that you have to know the name of the person you want to use it on before you can use it + the person you want to use it on is too much stronger, it will cost a lot of magic (which can lead to her death, will be explained in the backstory)

16. Quote: -" People may enter and exit our lives, and while it can be difficult to say goodbye, it's a natural part of our journey."- she said to Malleus when talking about her illness, not long after that he Overblot

17. Personality:

- on the outside, she is mature, gentle, kind, and delicate and loves peace but always gives off a very distant feeling. Arwen is considered one of the gentlest dorm leaders (after Kalim ofc) but is still a dorm leader, a trustworthy senior.

- truth is Arwen is always jealous of the people around her, extremely distant from everyone (except Lucasta), cold, cruel, and will do anything to achieve her goals (even harming herself and others). Secretly has a superiority complex, in her heart she always looks down on those she thinks are inferior

- But Arwen is just a child who was forced to grow up too early, living in meaningless compliments but never received any true love or affection, the guilt that she bears. She also struggles with PTSD and Depression . (more will be in the backstory)

School uniform and dorm uniform

Countdown poster

She also appears in Glorious masquerade as an SSR card this is the card that i draw for her

The ref of the outfit is here

[spockvarietyhour]

Ona Grauer in Stargate SG-1 & Stargate Atlantis as Ayana and Stargate Universe as Emily Young

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[tini5]

Jealousy Endeavor. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*────୨ৎ────°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Rafe Cameron had always known you were special. 

From the moment you two met, he could see the spark in your eyes—the kind that made you stand out from the rest. You were his precious girl, his princess, and every time you smiled, he couldn't help but feel like he had the world in his hands. 

But you weren’t the jealous type. At least, you hardly ever were. It wasn’t like you to feel threatened by someone else; after all, you knew you were Rafe’s girl, the one who owned his heart completely. 

Still, today was different. 

It all started at the country club. You were with Sarah, Topper, and Kelce, lounging by the couches when Rafe suddenly mentioned he was going to grab a drink from Sofia. Now, you knew Sofia—everyone did. But that wasn’t the issue. The problem was the way Rafe said her name, so casual, so familiar. It made something inside you tighten.

As Rafe strolled over to the bar, your eyes followed him, narrowing slightly when you saw Sofia flash him a smile that lingered just a little too long for your liking. Rafe returned it with that charming grin of his, and suddenly, your mood soured. You weren’t usually like this. Rafe was yours; you knew that. But seeing Sofia so close to him, so comfortable around him - 

"You okay?" Sarah asked, her voice light but concerned.

You plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" you replied, your tone a bit sharper than intended. Sarah gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further.

Minutes passed, and Rafe was still at the bar. You watched as Sofia leaned over, saying something that made Rafe laugh. It wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. She was just doing her job, being friendly with the customers. But your mind wouldn’t let it go. What could be taking so long? 

Your pout only grew more and more, and by the time Rafe finally came back with the drinks, you were in full-on sulk mode.

“Here you go, princess,” Rafe said, handing you your pink drink, completely oblivious to your  mood. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head slightly, making him miss.

Rafe paused, his brow furrowing as he looked at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice clipped as you took the drink, not even looking at him.

Rafe wasn’t convinced. “You sure about that?” He tilted his head, trying to catch your gaze, but you stubbornly avoided it, staring off into the distance with a pout.

Kelce snickered from his lounge chair. “Dude, you’re in trouble,” he teased, earning a light smack from Sarah.

“Shut up, Kelce,” she whispered, though she couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.

Rafe crouched down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your knee. 

"Talk to me, baby,” he coaxed softly, his voice dripping with that tenderness he saved just for you.

You finally looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, "You looked like you were having a great time over there.”

Rafe’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. He knew better than to laugh when you were like this. “You’re jealous,” he teased, his voice low and playful.

“I am not jealous!” you snapped, though the heat in your cheeks suggested otherwise.

Rafe chuckled, unable to resist anymore. He loved this side of you, even if it drove him crazy sometimes. 

“Don’t get jealous,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You own my heart. It’s fucking yours, baby. I’m all yours.”

You bit your lip, the frustration slowly fading away as you melted under his gaze. You hated how easily he could do that to you, but you also loved it. “You better be,” you mumbled, still pouting but less convincingly now.

Rafe smiled, knowing he had you. He brushed his lips against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Always, princess. Only you.”

You sighed, finally letting your pout slip away as you leaned into him, feeling the tension leave your body as Rafe’s arms wrapped around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you close, making you feel like the most important person in the world. And you were—at least, to him.

Sarah and Topper exchanged glances, smirking at the sight. “They’re like an old married couple,” Topper joked, earning a chuckle from Kelce.

“Yeah, but they’re perfect for each other,” Sarah added with a smile, watching as Rafe kissed your forehead, murmuring sweet nothings that only you could hear.

And just like that, everything was perfect again. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

As Carrie Bradshaw would say : And just like that heres my second blurb about Rafe🪄

[iwcfyaiicwicty]

Wait tom hopper PLAYED PERCIVAL IN MERLIN?????

[epickiya722]

I just realized why I love "Halloweenie IV: Innards" (by Ashnikko) so much. Other than it's a bog, the tune is "In the Hall of the Mountain King" which is my favorite classical music piece.

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭

Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭

(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)

keeping score

🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k

early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.

as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.

but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.

"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.

you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."

he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.

however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"

your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."

"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."

his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.

you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.

but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.

"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."

it hadn't rained last night.

the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.

as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.

"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"

you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.

"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.

"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.

your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.

just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.

while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.

and a minute or two later, aaron joined.

as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.

"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."

"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."

with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.

"how are you feeling?"

"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"

oh.

"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."

aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.

so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.

"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.

aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."

aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.

and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.

"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."

"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.

"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."

you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.

once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.

"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."

"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."

a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"

"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."

he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"

"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."

aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."

"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."

"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."