#and usually involves them either begging for me to make them

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

[codnasties]

kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ price & gaz ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ help needed

price isn't getting any younger. as days go by, his hips hurt more, and his back is starting to give up on him after carrying so much weight during his military years. and having a young missus doesn't help him at all.

don't get me wrong, he loves you, you are the best thing that has happened to him, and he sometimes wonders if he really deserves you. but he can't no longer keep up with you and lustiflness. especially now that his stamina is rapidly decreasing.

he really wants to give you his everything, fuck you dumb on his hard and thick cock until you are begging for him to stop. but that isn't really an option for him, his body doesn't allow him that kind of stuff anymore. there are days whene the most he can give you is laying down on his back and letting you ride his cock as if it were your personal dildo. letting you get off using him while also milking him dry.

but that's only a temporary solution, he feels like he's failing you by not fully satistying your needs and he fully dreads the idea that he may need help to keep pace with your - what for him seems - continuous aroused state.

but for you he's willing to do anything to make you happy. luckily, there is no better person than gaz to help him with the problem at hand. john knows that the young blooded man would quite literally die for him, and is very much willing to help his captain with anything that he may need. oh, and john also knows that kyle has the hots for the pretty thing that he has waiting for him at home.

he somehow made it work, your - what you called - 'dick appointments' with kyle were amazing. they usually were either at his house or rarely at yours. because if they were at yours, price would have to inevitably hear your loud moans while getting roughly fucked.

truly, jealousy gets the gest of him. but he's also curious. he wants to see how good kyle makes you feel, wants to enjoy the view of your pleasured face that he no longer gets to see that much. and he also wants to look at your pussy fluttering around his sargeant's cock.

but he doesn't get directly involved, you know? he might look. sometimes dirty talk to you telling you how much of a whore you are and that you seem to be enjoying another man's dick too much - all with no bad intent -. he even rarely jerked off to the sight, but that's about it.

and even though your fuck-dates with gaz started for the sole purpose of quenching a thirst john couldn't keep up with, there was only so much the captain could handle before he started waning to be a part of those.

and fucking with gaz soon turned into getting spit roasted. gaz fucking into your wet cunt from behind, getting a good view of your round ass. all while price was sitting right in front of you, having you between his thick thighs, with his heavy cock weighting down on your tongue as you tired to suck him off as best that your habilities alowed through the pleasure that garrick was giving you.

and the mix of slight jealousy and and the lust that brought him seeing you get properly fucked was what made price end up in a position similar to the one that he started at: laying down with you sitting on his dick trying to get off.

the only difference being that gaz was now there. his aching boner sheathed in your tight ass while price was inside your wet cunt. and john was thankfull that kyle was there, making you completely full, arms wrapped around your middle usind his strenght to move you up and down and forcing you even lower, making them reach even deeper inside of you.

what started as a solution to his problemas, made price end up in some kind of poly situation, but now you end up with both holes filled with cum instead of one.

[princeoftheeternalbog]

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so your plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

[sturniololuvz]

“who the hell are you?”

meanmatt! x partygirl!reader — part 1

2,

⸻

You didn’t even want to go to this party.

But your friends begged. Promised it’d be fun. Said he wouldn’t be there. And even if he was, you’d never notice him anyway.

Except now you’re here, the music’s too loud, the floor’s sticky, and some guy just spilled half a beer on your shoes. You’re annoyed, overstimulated, and completely sober — the worst combination possible.

So you do what you always do: fake a smile, throw back something fruity and dangerous, and find a quiet corner to claim as your own. Tonight it’s the back porch — dimly lit, mostly empty, with a half-dead string of fairy lights barely hanging on.

You sit on the rickety bench and let out a slow exhale, pulling your hoodie tighter around your shoulders. It’s peaceful for maybe three minutes.

Then:

“What the hell are you doing?”

You glance up.

He’s standing there with a plastic cup and a permanent scowl — tall, broad, and dressed like he didn’t try (which, annoyingly, works for him). You’ve never officially met, but you recognize him. Matt Sturniolo. One of the hosts, apparently. Notorious for hating everyone, especially girls like you — loud, sparkly, and “too much.”

You blink slowly. “Sitting?”

“That’s my spot.”

You laugh. “Are you serious?”

Matt doesn’t smile. “Dead serious.”

“You’ve got the whole house and backyard full of drunk people,” you say. “And you’re pressed about this bench?”

“It’s mine.”

You scoff. “Didn’t see your name on it.”

Matt glares. “Don’t care. Move.”

You raise a brow. “Make me.”

He stares at you like he’s deciding whether it’s worth dragging you off the bench or just setting the whole party on fire and starting over.

“Why are you even here?” he mutters, running a hand over his face like your presence is giving him a migraine.

“I was invited.”

“By who? Satan?”

You blink. “Damn. That’s the energy we’re on tonight?”

“I don’t like people who come to these things just to cause problems.”

“I don’t like people who act like the world revolves around their stupid bench.”

Matt glares again, and you glare right back.

It’s a full ten seconds of quiet, hostile eye contact before he mutters, “Whatever,” and sits down on the other side of the bench, as far from you as possible.

You smirk. Victory.

Kind of.

⸻

Five minutes pass. Then ten. You both sit in tense silence, the only sound the thump of bass from inside and the occasional shout of someone getting too drunk.

Finally, you break it.

“You always this charming, or is it just me?”

Matt doesn’t look at you. “Just you.”

You hum. “Lucky me.”

Another silence.

You sip your drink. “You don’t like me.”

“I don’t even know you,” he snaps.

“Didn’t stop you from being a dick.”

He turns to face you now, jaw tight. “You walk into someone else’s house, throw your attitude around, and expect people to kiss the ground you glittered on?”

You blink. “Wow. You really hate fun, huh?”

Matt shrugs. “Fun doesn’t usually involve fake smiles, tequila breath, and girls taking selfies in my bathroom.”

“You sound fun at parties.”

“I’m not.”

You laugh again, even though your stomach twists. He’s mean — like, unnecessarily mean — but you’ve dealt with worse. Guys who pretended to like you. Guys who pretended to listen. Matt? He doesn’t pretend.

And that pisses you off more than anything.

“You must be such a hit with the ladies,” you say, voice sugar-sweet. “Do they all fall at your feet after you call them annoying and chase them off benches?”

He leans back, finally sipping his drink. “Most of them don’t talk back.”

“Maybe they’re smart.”

“Maybe you’re not.”

You grin. “You’re just mad I’m not scared of you.”

“I’m not trying to scare you.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

Another beat of silence. Matt doesn’t answer.

You both sit with it — the tension, the unspoken, the push-pull of two people who are either about to kiss or throw each other off the porch.

You swallow hard. “You know, you don’t actually know me. So maybe get off your high horse before you break something.”

Matt’s eyes flicker toward you. “You come off like someone who wants attention. You dress loud. You talk louder. You walk in like it’s your world and everyone’s just lucky to exist in it.”

“And you hate that?”

“I think it’s fake.”

You go quiet. That one stings — not because it’s new, but because it’s familiar.

Matt watches your expression shift. Regret flickers across his face for a half-second before he masks it with his usual scowl.

You stand up. “You don’t know me,” you repeat, quieter this time.

He doesn’t say anything.

You walk away.

⸻

You don’t expect to see him again that night, and you don’t want to.

But two hours later, you’re in the kitchen, sipping something someone shoved in your hand, when you feel someone watching you. You turn. It’s Matt. Across the room. Arms crossed, unreadable expression, eyes locked on you.

He doesn’t look away.

You roll your eyes and head outside.

You sit on the front step this time. Different porch. Same night.

You let the cool air hit your skin. It’s too much — the noise, the heat, the way Matt made you feel like every layer of yourself was see-through and stupid. You hate that he got to you. You hate that he was right about some of it.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when the door creaks open again.

Matt.

Of course.

He sits down a few feet away, but not too far. Enough to give you space, but not let you disappear.

“Didn’t expect to see you again,” you mutter.

“I live here.”

“Tragic.”

Another pause. You don’t look at him. He doesn’t look away.

Finally, he says, “I was kind of an asshole earlier.”

You scoff. “Kind of?”

Matt exhales. “I just— I don’t like parties. I don’t like pretending.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“I thought you were.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Silence again. Softer this time.

“I still think you’re a lot,” he adds, like he can’t help himself.

You smile bitterly. “I am.”

“It’s not always a bad thing.”

You glance over. He’s already looking at you. Not glaring. Just… looking.

You sigh, pulling your knees to your chest. “I don’t do fake either, Matt. This is just me.”

He nods slowly. “I noticed.”

Another beat.

“You still hate me?” you ask, half-joking.

He doesn’t smile. “Don’t know you yet.”

“Still sounds like a yes.”

Matt shrugs. “You make things complicated.”

You grin. “You make things boring.”

He looks away, but his mouth twitches — the smallest hint of a smirk.

You lean back against the railing, finally starting to relax again.

Maybe you still don’t like him.

But he’s not pretending.

And neither are you.

⸻

Did yall like it!!???

tag list : @sturniolo-szn2 @fadedstvrn @tezzzzzzzz @stayingstromboli @ivysturnss @sturniolofreakk @ihateemetoo @sturniolo-tease @sturniololuv3r @sturnsclam @nxra-cxm @csturniolo43 @mattspillowprincess @sturniolo-fann @izzylovesmatt

[dumbkiri]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 6

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

ρℓσт: your vision of death haunts your dreams and the more you sleep, the more you see and feel. getting closer to the event, you know that xaden has something to do with your sacrifice. his choice between you and violet will either kill you or save you. and you don't know which choice leads to you living.

ησтє: again the timeline is different from FW and I need to change some things to fit you (our lovely mc) into the story that literally involves a romantic relationship between Xaden and Violet.

also! I don't know whether to make MC still have a complicated relationship with xaden or have her fall in love with another male in FW (bodhi, ridoc, brennan, etc) seriously there are a lot of males to choose from. so I'm leaving the choice to you, my readers! it's your story!

also since Amber Mavis signet isnt really a thing, I gave her an OP one, but girlie is dead soooooooo doesnt matter anymore

NOT PROOFREAD! WILL BE MISTAKES! LOOKING FOR BETA READERS! MESSAGE ME IF INTERESTED!!!

down.

down.

down you go. 

Fall and fall until your breath is gone. Only then will you ascend to be the daughter you were meant to be. A crown of light and a cloak of darkness is your fate to carry the rest to their gates. Maiden of the Moon, you are the daughter that tames the tidal waves. 

down.

down.

down you go. 

……

The moon. 

It’s always the moon that greets you it seems. With its blue gaze on your falling body, the slow motion of it all devours your aching wounds and swallows you inch by inch. You watched your kunai in your weak grasp painted in blood with a feeling of pride. Then regretfully your digits release it, your only weapon discarded in the sky as you begin to fall faster. 

The [f.color] kunai waved its goodbye to you and a tear left your eyes. Your choice of weapon has always been a dagger, and this unique one allowed you to use it as it was meant to be and as a fidget. You could spin your kunai with your finger while you study, spin it while you ranted to Imogen or while flights on Lenin took longer than usual. You remember Sloane begging for one of your kunais saying that they looked cool. 

You promised her that you would give her one when she proved her worth at Basgaith and bonded to a dragon. But you can’t do that now. They’re going to burn everything you owned, from your drawings, to your wooden figurines and now your daggers. 

You’re still falling? You thought that right about now, your body would have smacked into branches or trees. Maybe even a lake. Yet you felt your body freeze in the cold. Stagnant. Unmoving. 

Then your body jerked and you resumed your descent. All of this, your surroundings and your feelings felt familiar in an eerie sense. You’ve seen this before. When Bodhi accompanied you in your room. When you woke up crying in Xaden’s arms telling him how you died. 

You know this feeling all too well. The dread in your stomach and the wind whipping at your body. This is when you die and you know your heroic death scares you. Yet you knew why you threw yourself into danger and you closed yourself out. 

What was the danger, [Name]? What was the cause of your fall? What was Liam doing?

Xaden’s voice demanded answers and now this time you can find them. For now, he knocked you out of your acceptance. Here you are investigating your death and the cause of it. 

You forced the fear at the back of your mind, taking in your surroundings and watching the vision play. You willed yourself to pay attention to every detail despite this scene playing out your death. 

Someone is yelling your name. No, multiple people are. You can hear their voices carry in the raging storm, from females to males, to your own dragon. 

 Lightning streaks the sky in a rhythm you couldn’t follow. Uncontrolled. Right. It’s raining, actually pouring like a catastrophic storm and you took notice that you didn’t wear your flight goggles. It explains how your vision wasn’t actually smeared with rain drops. Just…fading out. 

You can hear the sounds of dragon roars and other roars that sounded similar but deeper in their throat. In the light the moon provided and the lightning striking across the sky, it was a full on battle in the skies. No sight of gryphons. 

They are out of the equation. Yet because of their lack of involvement, a chill ran down your spine. The sound of a wyvern and their screeching venin calling you out with a word that sounded like…witch.  

Move your body. Will your mind move your body if you keep yelling at yourself?

“Dagger!” 

You felt your heavy eyes watch the moon, too occupied with the feeling it gave you. A sense of completeness. Then the ghostly women and their whispers came back. Rushing in your ears, chanting their wicked words reminding you that you were going to die. 

down. down. down you go. 

Your story is over and your body started to feel numb with the cold rain that splattered against your exhausted figure. The danger…it’s still ongoing. You killed one. You know you did, yet another one lived. All that mattered was going after the one that went after your brother.

Liam. 

You sacrificed yourself to save him. What is the danger? Why the battle? Is it an exercise that went deadly? Or perhaps a mission that went south? Fuck, everything is all blurred in your head. The feelings of you experiencing the vision and the you of the vision confused you. 

It’s wyvern and venin. The you in the vision confirmed that for you. It’s not a training exercise, it’s not war games. It’s not a mission gone south. The two versions of you, the present and the future felt different from one another. 

The you now…you weren’t ready to die. You wanted to ignore this possibility. You wanted to live and see the plans Xaden had succeeded. You didn’t want to leave your siblings behind or leave your devoted dragon alone on the battlefield. 

But the you in the vision knew something about Xaden. Even the mention of him made the Vision you seethe with her teeth clenched tightly. Is it because she was mad at the ill attempt Liam made to save Violet. 

Violet. Now you know why Liam was in danger. Because of the bodyguard task Xaden gave Liam, your brother tried to help her. You stepped in to save him while he saved her from the present danger. 

“Dagger, wake up!”

You have to see if your sacrifice was in vain or not. You have to know that you died saving your brother. Your stomach twisted with a pain you couldn’t yet comprehend although that jolt of the unknown feeling made your eyes open wide. Then with your last strength to keep them open you saw a red dragon fly above you, with your cloak falling off of it like a blanket caught in the wind. 

“[Name]! Hang on!” Liam shouted above you and he seemed okay. 

He’s okay. Alive and well. 

You smiled in relief, feeling blood rise in the back of your throat and coughed it out with painful breaths. Liam is alive. Sloane won’t be stuck with you. She’ll have him next year, leading her through all the obstacles and trials of being a rider. 

“Dagger, wake up!” 

You can’t. Not even if you wanted to. Your body relaxed with the last of its energy leaving you and you knew this was your time. All of it spent to see Liam and Deigh safe and sound. You did your job. You protected your brother with your signet, allowed him and Deigh to escape the…escape what…what was the danger? 

Hmm…whatever it was….you don’t want to think about it. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and sleep. Yes, you welcomed sleep as the moon held you in its sad gaze. 

Your only hope is that your brother remembers you as the sister who loved him enough to sacrifice herself for him. Not as the sister who cursed at him or hated him at their last conversation together. Because he wasn’t to blame for your anger. 

No, you had to give credit where credit was due. 

…….

“[Name], I need you to open your eyes.” 

Xaden, voice strained and desperate, rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. His gentle touch and his disheartened tone woke you out of your vision. Although you didn’t wake as easily as you thought you would. You groaned in your bed and tried to move your lips, but your body felt so stiff. You couldn’t even will your eyes to open.

At your discomfort, you felt Xaden clench your hand in his and his other hand caressed your face. “Hey, I’m here with you,” He encouraged, focusing on the furrow of your brows and tense jaw, “and you’re here with me. You have to relax, you’re not in danger.” 

You can still feel the sensation of falling. You hadn’t stopped falling yet. Liam. Remember me. 

“Remem…” Your eyes squeezed tighter, “Remember..me.” 

“I’m here with you,” Xaden repeated, his hand moving from your face down to your shoulder to shake you lightly. “Open your eyes, [Name]. I haven’t seen them in a week. Please let me know that you’re okay.” 

A week. 

“Dagger, take your time.” Lenin softly hummed in your head and his voice gave you the comfort you needed so badly. He was still here. Along with Xaden. You have to tell him what you saw. 

But you can feel sleep coming for you again, the unknown women’s voices singing all around you in their ghostly whispers. 

“Vision,” You mustered out, “Death. Me.”

“The same vision?” Xaden questioned and you squeezed his hand back for a yes. “Can you tell me what happened? A battle? Enemies? Anything.”

“Liam tries to save Vi…” 

Suddenly, you stopped speaking. Like someone sewed your mouth shut and you heard the women getting louder. A coldness hovered over your body and you let it embrace you. It wiped away the warmth from Xaden, muffled his words of encouragement. 

Your whole body relaxes, the grip you had on Xaden loosening up. Sleep has taken you in her hold again making you relive the vision in its entirety this time. 

……

VIOLET’S POV

“How is Lenin doing today?” 

“What do you think?” Tairn replied with annoyance thrumming in my head, his voice deeper in his agitation. 

“Sorry for asking all the time, but I’m concerned. [Name] has been in this coma for months. Xaden and the rest are more broody than normal and don’t get me started on Dain.” I focused on the spinning dagger on my finger watching it move smoothly and lethally. Well not in my hands, in [Name]’s hands this dagger moved like it had been an extension of her. She flicked this dagger with precise movements allowing it to spin on her finger, her knuckles or her bouncing knee. 

“Lenin sleeps all day!” Andarna added with her childish voice ringing in my head. And a quiet chuckle left my lips because this feathertail could tell me anything. Things Tairn obviously wanted my knowledge of it nonexistent. Although I could not ask about her. What Dain did to her. What Liam is going through worrying about his older sister. Saying he should have been hanging out with her more. Train with her. 

Then there was Xaden. My heart plummeted to my stomach seeing how he was holding up. Which is barely. He stuck to the shadows more often than not and visited her with Nolon any chance he got. Xaden spoke to Sgaeyl more than he did to his actual friends and team. Drifting off in his conversations with her and probably having her relay what Lenin knows, if anything at all. 

When Xaden came back, holding an unconscious [Name] close to his chest with his eyes searching for Nolon and healers, I could tell something had been terribly wrong. Even Lenin’s humming echoed throughout the flight field for days haunted my dreams. A man waiting for his…girlfriend to come back to him. A dragon waiting patiently for his rider to wake up from her dreams.  

“But he said she woke up for a bit. He’s trying his best to balance her.” Andarna chirped up. And I knew her hopefulness came from either Sgaeyl or Tairn. Getting the younger dragon not to worry about her sibling made more sense. Yet if Lenin truly did sleep for months just like his rider, he must be deteriorating in health. Neglecting his hunts isn’t something [Name] would want for her dragon. 

“Tairn, what does Andarna mean by that?” I ask. 

Tairn huffed, “It means she needs to stop bothering her brother. Cloak is dreaming, Silver One. It’s what you humans do when you sleep.” Yeah, he wasn’t wrong about that. I pushed the dream I had of Xaden and I to the back of my mind, drowning it in a pit. There is nothing going on between Xaden and I. Maybe just a bit, but with [Name]’s unexpected coma and the future trouble it brings to the Marked Ones…we haven’t actually spent any time together. 

“Well then, how are you and Sgaeyl doing? I haven’t felt…anything from you guys in a while.” 

“Our son is in a deep slumber and you think we’d engage in any sort of intimacy with one another while he suffers in his silence?” 

“Right. I-I don’t know why I asked that.”

“If you want Shadow to see you then make it happen. Don’t taint what I do with my mate with your ideas.” 

Then Tairn was gone. That was super embarrassing because that’s not at all what I intended to come out of the conversation. But he is right. Why would Sgaeyl, hopelessly protective of her son, want to have sex with her partner when her boy was suffering? In his silence, said Tairn. Lenin is keeping his parents out of the loop. This dragon wasn’t going to share anything with his parents until he had the full story. 

Then again [Name] has missed so much. She’s so out of the loop, I’m not sure I can tell her everything, especially Liam’s near death experience.  From Jack Barlowe kicking my ass, to me saving Liam then killing Jack for the whole fight. Channeling my signet. Liam channeling his signet. I missed her training me, I miss her glares and her insults. And the rare occasions when she would smile at me. I stared at the kunai with slouched shoulders and sighed loudly. 

“I need to apologize to her. If anything happens to her…I need to get this off my shoulders.” 

This meaning the blame I put on her for letting the unbonded in my room. The way I had her friends question her motives. 

I grabbed my flight jacket and stormed out of my room with quick and light steps. Surely Nolon will allow me to visit [Name] at this time. My boots barely made any noise on the steps leading to [Name]’s room. After months of monitoring her, Nolon gave the okay that she could rest in her room. Some people had access to her room while others were strictly forbidden to go near, like Dain and the unbonded. 

I kept close to the shadows on the wall, ignoring the light that came from the moon outside. Then when I found her room, I hurried over to the door and walked right in. Earlier in the months, when Nolon allowed [Name] to rest in her room, Xaden warded the room to certain people. Luckily, he accepted me as a trusted friend of [Name]’s. 

Her mage light flicked on right when I shut the door behind me and I sighed in relief. Her room always brought a sense of belonging for some reason. Like there was this constant safety blanket over me. Definitely not her cloak because that always washed over me like cold water. 

I slipped my jacket off and settled it down on a chair with a huff. Then I brought my attention to her sleeping peacefully in her dreams. She was covered in multiple blankets, her head surrounded by pillows. I’m assuming Imogen sleeps on the floor sometimes with those extras. Which means I better make my visit quick. Any of them could walk in and check in on her. 

I sat myself on the chair next to her bed and sucked in a deep breath. Come on, she’s sleeping. It’s better to do this than tell her when she’s actually awake. Go, Violet. Say it. 

“I’m sorry for making you suffer like this,” It’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I know that bonding to Tairn seemed impossible, like how everyone told you that bonding to Lenin was a crazy idea. They both weren’t supposed to choose us somehow. But they did anyway. You trained all your life to become a dragon rider, to live another day. I wanted to be like my father, a scribe. And now, here I am speaking to one of the most badass females I ever met in my life.”

Fuck, where am I going with this?

“I never wanted to be a rider, but when Tairn chose me. I don’t know, I felt like I proved everyone wrong. Like how you prove to everyone that you are a lethal rider with one of the biggest dragons. So I wanted to be like you. I wanted to fight like you, speak like you with confidence. To have a powerful signet. To have his attention like you.” 

Maybe I shouldn’t say that last part. My feelings for Xaden have to be kept to myself. 

“Anyways, I came here to apologize to you. I know you don’t remember, but when I bonded to Tairn I became a target. One night, someone let unbonded riders into my room hoping that they’ll kill me. I saw them for a brief moment like a shimmer when the rest attacked me. Xaden was the first to help me and when he questioned me with Garrick and Bodhi by his side, I let my words slip.”

Yeah, here it goes. The whole story. The truth and my guilt. 

“I told him that the person who let these unbonded in my room had a shimmer around their body. Like a cloak. That’s when he snapped at me, telling me that you would never do that to him. That your jealousy couldn’t have been that petty to put his life in danger. And I said that I saw the cloaked person leave like nothing. Bodhi tried to make sense of it, but Xaden’s fury was unmatched to any reason. He told them to meet you at your door after they woke up Imogen. He didn’t care about being seen with them, more than three because he needed to know. I saw the hurt in his eyes and I- I watched them leave after he made sure I was okay.” 

[Name] didn’t even stir at the information I decided to dump on her. No reaction to her peaceful expression. No twitch of her fingers or toes. Just the steady rise and fall of her chest. 

“Turns out, it wasn’t you. Imogen told us that your cloak doesn’t shimmer. Not after all the hard work you did to make it invisible to the eye. So with further investigation, Xaden and the rest pinned the blame on Amber Mavis after seeing her use your signet for her own gain. Her signet allowed her to copy others and she chose yours.”

I moved my eyes to her lips which parted with soft breaths leaving it. 

“She died. And you asked Imogen to erase your memories. Because your friends trusted me more than they did you. They trusted a word of an outsider more than the ones that left your mouth and you are technically family to them. I wanted to apologize way earlier, but Lenin had other plans. Imogen and Bodhi told me that you would refuse to teach me anything if you knew the truth. So I kept my mouth shut.” 

I reached out to her uncovered hand and held it in my own. Is it bad to say that I missed when she would grab my hand and flip me around on the sparring mat? I need her back to keep me going, to teach me everything she can. 

A groan snapped me out of my trance and I looked up in surprise to see [Name]’s eyes flutter open. For second, her blue eyes changed to lilac. The pretty purples looking around her room then shutting them again. When she opened her eyes again they were back to blue. 

“Vi…Violet?” She sounded confused and her grip on my hand tightened. 

“[Name], are you…are you really awake?” I asked dumbfoundedly, perhaps thinking I was in some kind of dream too. 

“I think I am,” She said in a whisper, not believing that she was either, “How long was I out for?” 

How should I let her down easy? I hummed and said quietly, matching her volume, “Well in two days is the Reunification Day. Uh, it’s been months, but don’t worry you didn’t miss a lot.” 

“Alright then,” [Name] calmly responded and released my hand. I was expecting a harsher or more dramatic response, but she seemed withdrawn. I don’t think I was the first person she wanted to wake up to. 

“I can get Xaden for you, he’s been waiting for you to wake up ever since the challenge with Dain and that other third year.” I say, hoping to get her out of her bed or to get more of a reaction from her. Instead she looks at me with tired eyes and says, “I’ll be alright. I’m going to sleep some more.” 

“No!” I shouted and jumped up from my seat, “What happened to you? You know you can tell me anything, right? I promise I can get Xaden here in a second. He really wants to know that you’re okay.” 

Quickly I reach out to Xaden, closing my eyes tightly and searching for him, “She’s awake! You have to get here quickly!” 

“I’m on my way! What has she said?” Xaden responded instantly, his voice sending shivers down my spine. 

“Nothing, but she wants to sleep some more!” 

“Keep her awake, Violence!” He ordered. The nickname, I haven’t heard him call me that in some time now. 

I opened my eyes and felt creeped out by how intensely she was staring at me. Then [Name] sighed, turning her back on me. She pulled her blankets higher, up to her shoulders and snuggled into her pillows. 

“Don’t worry, Violence,” [Name] said almost in a mocking way, “I will wake tomorrow. I’m almost done seeing how everything turns out.” 

Then she closed her eyes and fell right back to sleep. But I stood in my place absolutely dumbfounded by her choice of words. Violence. Seeing how everything turns out. Her words seemed to ring with truth, not some kind of joke. Or the delirious waking of her coma. 

[Name] Mairi is going to wake up tomorrow. And she’ll know how everything will turn out. 

“Tairn, how is Lenin doing now?” I asked and three beats of silence went by before I got my answer. 

“He’s waking up with a few changes to his appearance.” 

Great, now I need to know how this happened. 

..............................

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬:

@luvly-writer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @honethatty12 @poeticbookwormcat @cheappremingerfromdelululand @eep500 @littlepippilongstocking @86laura11 @lxnvmvrzx @what-will-be-your-verse @sheblogs @fangirling-galore @callsigns-haze @side-angel @faeofthemoonandstars @jesschalamet @abysshaven @bisexualbitchsgotass @books-hlmc @r0sluvs @galaxystern08 @bwormie @littleemissperfecttt @lagrandeourse @steph-fowlie

if I missed anyone, please let me know! Send me a DM or something because I lose your names in all the activity! Making me go fishing for y'all

[dipperscavern]

THE BET - JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x gn!reader, 4.2k words

synopsis: you’ve made a bet with jon snow — now begs the question, who will come out on top?

authors note: i heard the call for jon snow content, and this idea came to me in the middle of the night wearing dobby the elfs tea cozy. enjoy! <3 [ @eldrith ]

jon snow never considered himself a betting man.

he never considered himself a blushing one, either — or a swooning one. until he met you.

you bring out the best in him, it’s true. but you also (somehow) bring to light his playful side, the one he thought he left behind in winterfell; along with the games he, robb, and theon used to play, the peace of the godswood, the smell of the kitchens wafting through the corridors (stick them with the pointy end).

he had left it all at winterfell on purpose. he needed to shed jon, shed the princely stark-ness he’d grown up with (though he’d never consider himself a real one), and replace it with the black he adorned on his shoulders. ever since he knelt before the weirwood, swearing vows in the sight of the old gods, he was no longer boy — but man. and with that, he left the boyish attributes, replacing them by those of men. warriors. or, at least, he’d like to believe.

partaking in bets was one of the most boyish things he could do, but truly, he could not chide himself for it if he tried. it involves you — it involves making you smile. and that, he will never register as a thing needing scolding, even if it’s only internally.

it was painfully obvious to you and jon the way samwell tarly looked at gilly, daughter of the devil. you would know, it’s how you and jon spend your time looking at one another. sam is head over heels for gilly, always helping her to the best of his abilities, advocating for her, looking at her as if she hung the stars and the moon… yes, samwell tarly was smitten.

you and jon both knew gilly was taken with sam. gilly knew she was taken with sam. the only one who didn’t know gilly was taken with sam, was sam himself.

you and jon are rather protective over sam and gilly both, so while you’d kill and die for them, you’ve left their feelings to be sorted out themselves. of course, you give advice when asked, and perhaps give one a nudge in the right direction on occasion, but is it really meddling if it’s for a good cause?

the true reason sam had kept his feelings to himself so far, was an extremely sweet one. he didn’t want gilly to think he was just using her, or didn’t genuinely care for her. he didn’t want her to be able to look at him and see her father. well, that, and he was shy — but that was one of the things you and jon liked about sam. it somehow made him sweeter.

either way, even with his profound saint-like mindset, you could tell sam was getting closer to telling gilly how he really felt. you saw the way he would open his mouth to say something, how gilly would give him her full attention, then how he’d shrink back down, letting his nerves get the best of him.

sam only grew more frustrated as time went on (never with gilly, only himself). when asked, sam would stumble out something like-

“Gilly — oh, right, she’s um — she’s great...” with a defeated look in his eye, leaving before you could ask further.

staring at her (more than usual), never being able to fully concentrate when she was near. he’d always start to approach her, then let his nerves steer him in the other direction. gilly was now all sam could think about, it being the only topic of conversation jon could coax out of him. sure, it began to drive jon fairly mad, but it was better than the grumbling silence you’d endured at the start of his romantic-turmoil. samwell tarly was nearing the edge of insanity, and you & jon could both tell it wouldn’t be long yet. so, naturally, you’d made a bet.

“You know, I think Sam’s really gonna do it.”

your voice cut through the silence as you and jon cleaned up the mess hall. right now, you were looking out a window, watching sam and gilly have a conversation. sam was fidgeting, the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“You must not know him very well, then.” jon says. you turn to give jon an exasperated look, barely concealing the roll of your eyes. he looks up at you, and you see the upward quirk of his lips that tells you he finds this — the joint disagreeing — truly enjoying.

“I mean it,” you say, touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth, turning back to resume observing them. as gilly and sam share a smile, a noise akin to one you’d make seeing a small puppy rises from the back of your throat, voice softening. “Awh— Jon, look at them.”

this does the trick of grabbing jon’s attention, and he stops his table-scrubbing to come join you at the window. he shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “It’ll never happen,” he says.

“Gods, Snow,” the use of his surname in place of your usual (honey-dripping) ‘jon’ has his head snapping to you. “I didn’t take you for faithless.”

the chuckle jon lets slip has shivers crawling up your spine. you choose to ignore it. “I only mean,” he says, re-wetting his scrub brush. “that Sam is one to take it slow.” you turn to give him a look that has him backtracking.

“Slower than he has been,” he clarifies. he looks to you, and takes your lack of response as acceptance, moving to resume his table-scrubbing. you resume as well, and a few seconds pass before you stop, looking at jon with newfound defiance.

“No— your absence of faith does not deter me,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at jon. he bites back his smile at how cute you look in your retaliation. “Sam’s going to do it, I know this.”

jon takes the bait, setting down his scrub brush, leaning both hands against the table. “Alright, and I know he won’t.”

you scoff at his stubbornness. “He’ll approach her by the next moon’s turn.” you don’t give sam much time, the next moons turn being only a week away. you don’t give it any thought.

jon raises his brows. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you win.” you say, lightly shrugging. “Aye, I would. What would I get in return?” he asks, unrelenting. you search for something worthy to offer, but come up short. he fills in the gaps for you.

“Whatever I want?”

you nod. you usually wouldn’t put such a promise in a man of the nights watches hands, most being criminals & rapists, but it’s not just anyone you’re trusting. it’s jon. he’s safe.

“You’re on, Snow.” you say, returning to your table-scrubbing without further word than that. jon ignores the butterflies in his stomach, and attempts to scrub them away on the hard wood of the worn-out oak table.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

over the next week, you’re starting to become faithless; it seems the gods have abandoned you.

you thought his frustration would boil over, giving him the confidence he needed to confess, but yet again, samwell tarly has exceeded expectations in the department of pining.

jon silently relishes in his oncoming victory, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so — prone to smiling. whenever he sees you, he bites the inside of his cheek (or his tongue), in every effort to conceal the massive grin that threatens to erupt on his face. this only makes you grumble, and edds told you if you don’t stop rolling your eyes so much they’ll get stuck like that.

sam has peeled away from everything entirely, it seems. keeping his head down, only speaking when spoken to, always looking like he has something on his mind. he’s like this with everyone, jon, gilly, and you included. the nights watch is feeling the absence of their usual beam of light, and edds proclaimed if you, jon, and gilly aren’t being spoken to, then they all should keep an eye out for wildlings flying over the wall until further notice.

now, when you and jon see each other, it’s more silent than ever. you know if he opens his mouth it’ll be boasting proclamations of onset victory, and you can’t say if that happens you won’t put your hands on him. he seems to know this too, smart enough to keep to himself and not press your buttons. somehow this only frustrates you more. maybe if jon was more insufferable, you’d have a harder time loving him.

even with your own romantic dilemma, the main thing on your mind is sam, and the stupid bet you shouldn’t have made in the first place. you’ve tried leaving sam alone, forgetting about it entirely, praying, and even giving him a nudge in the right direction. making sure jon wasn’t near, then asking about his day, and after, about gilly — but iif you ask about gilly, you get the same record on repeat.

“What? Oh, Gilly, yeah… yeah she’s great. Working with Maester Aemon ‘nd… she’s great, really.” he’d say, fiddling with his hands, gaze trapped on the floor (or, if gilly was in the vicinity, on her).

your gaze would soften, but even you aren’t enough this time. “Sam, look, maybe you should—“

“Oh— I’ve got to go, I’m late for my meeting with Jon. Bye.. bye then!” he’d call, walking quickly in the other direction (not toward jon’s chambers), and as he walks away, you could almost see victory leaving with him.

by the end of the week, you and sam are in the same boat emotionally. jon thinks if you scrub the tables any harder you’ll break the wood, and this time, he doesn’t refrain from mentioning it.

“Careful.”

he means it in (half) good faith, but you glare at him all the same. and you see the shift in his tongue that means he’s biting down on it to stop his smile from appearing. you roll your eyes, and the image of edds face appears in your head as you do so.

you scrub angrily for the next few minutes, until you can’t bear it anymore.

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it, Jon.”

he glances up at you, a raise of his brows appearing as he speaks. “Who’s faithless now?”

“Don’t. You and I both know he was near to burst a week ago.” you say, crossing your arms and looking out the same window you did the night a bet was made.

jon makes a noise of disagreement, but (intelligently) doesn’t press any further.

“I just don’t get it. How can — how can you be so,” you look for the right wording, emotion punctuating your sentences. “so in love with someone without telling them?”

jon momentarily stops scrubbing, entire body pausing at your words. luckily for him, you’re too caught up with sam to notice. jon gets it.

“He doesn’t want to ruin what they have.” he says, and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d pick up on the tone that says he isn’t just talking about sam and gilly. you come to sit at the bench of the table hes working on, and jon notices the color of your eyes bathed in the light exuding from the window.

“Right, but—“ you sigh, trying to string your thoughts together. “but they could have more. Isn’t it worth the risk, than to spend your time only being that? Always dancing on the edge of more?”

the sincerity jon can see in your eyes only makes his heart race, but it also makes him reflect on your relationship. jon’s in love with you, that much is easy to pinpoint, but do you love him? would you allow his tainted hands to sully you, if given the opportunity? jon’s gaze flickers to your lips, and returns back to your eyes.

though quick, in the silence, you notice it. you take pity, leaning back to allow jon his personal space (that you hadn’t even registered invading) back. he only wishes you’d return, even closer this time.

but he doesn’t say that. among all the things unspoken…

“Sam doesn’t think it worth the risk.” he decides, and he can see the gears turning in your head. he returns to light scrubbing to give you time to string your thoughts together. you don’t like speaking without correlation (the first thing jon learned about you).

a few seconds pass before you speak, and your voice is quieter than its usual volume. “Do you think it worth the risk?”

jon’s silence only prompts you to make the question clearer. “If you had the opportunity, would you risk it?”

would he? would he speak your name, of the devotion he harbors for you? he could take the risk, but what’s the rush? jon’s never considered his time with you limited. he shrugs.

“It depends,” he says. “On the person.. how long I have. Some are content where they stand.”

you nod, but he can tell that’s not the answer you were looking for. “I think so,” he adds as an afterthought. you seem content with it, and brush his knuckles in passing as you return to your own table. it makes his heart jump.

jon would think it accidental if he didn’t know you so well.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

you think you could smell jon’s amusement from anywhere you stand in castle black.

the moon turns tonight, and sam seems no closer now than he was a week ago. the jest is on you for putting faith in the confidence of cowards.

you’re perfectly content to avoid jon for the entirety of the day, and even worse, he seems content to let you. you meet each others eyes in passing, and while your gaze is defeated, his is only cloaked with half-amused sympathy (accompanied by that smile he adorns only when he’s with you). if you looked closer, you don’t doubt you could find some arrogance in there, but you’re too busy being a sore loser to try. it doesn’t occur to you that jon hates not seeing you achieve, even if it’s only a bet. one that’s in his favor.

the nights watch had decided to celebrate the moons turning with drinks after supper tonight. usually, the moon isn’t any topic worthy of celebration, but things have been unusually quiet in castle black lately. as far as white walkers and wildlings go, that is. why not have a little fun?

the mess hall is warm, bustling with the combined voices of black brothers. bellies are full, and the ale in everyone’s cup allows for a lighthearted atmosphere. you’ve decided to put the bet on a back burner, a simmering problem to deal with tomorrow. you’re warm & fuzzy, looser with your tongue than usual; although you can’t help wincing whenever someone drops food or creates a new stain on the tables.

you forego avoiding jon, and not just because you naturally gravitate toward him when drinking ale. he’s more than eager to keep you by his side, not fully trusting anyone in the room with you incapacitated (maybe edd on blood moons).

much to your dismay, there’s been no sign of samwell tarly. he had vacated the premises after everyone was done supping, and before the ale had been poured. everyone noticed; of course they did. sam was alike to the glue that held much together. sure, he was cowardly, and occasionally frustrating, but sam was the voice of reason. and everyone was starting to feel the weight of his absence.

bet or not, you think after tonight you might have to seriously intervene in your friends love life. you hate to see him like this, dejected and hopeless…. maybe you have a better chance of guiding gilly than sam. in the midst of your thoughts, you glance out the window noticing the sun setting. and with it, goes any hope you had at victory.

jon’s gaze follows yours, and recognizes your defeat with you. but still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t mention it; only allowing a small upward tug to play on his lips. you return it, momentarily leaning into jon in a silent acknowledgment, before getting roped into grenns white-walker conspiracy theory.

the hours pass easily, greatly enjoying the boisterous atmosphere, the ale making you warm & floaty. you find it harder to keep your eyes off jon as the night goes on, and you almost internally chide yourself for it; until you recognize that every time you’ve stolen a glance at jon, he’s already been looking at you.

eventually, it gets late, and you want to turn in. the only reason jon’s been here so long is you anyways, so when he says his goodbyes along with you, silently following you out, you don’t pay it any mind. your tipsy brain clouds your judgement, and you wrap a hand around his bicep, the muscle underneath making you feel fuzzy.

jon only glances down to where you meet, afraid if he looks too long, you’ll get shy and pull away. and he really, really doesn’t want you to pull away.

you walk in silence until a thought occurs to you. you decide to push aside your pride and propriety, letting instead curiosity steer your tongue.

“So, Snow,” you begin, and he hums, propping you to go on. “Since you’ve won, what’ll it be?”

it seems that the ale isn’t just affecting you, because the question makes jon smile almost too easily. you want to see more of it, so you continue.

“A handshake… the clothes off my back… my soul…” you remark, and it gets you just want you wanted — jon shakes his head, smile not leaving his face.

“Not here,” he says, and he steers you both in the direction of the wall. what jon could possibly want that would need the privacy of the wall, you’re unsure (no you aren’t).

the walk there is quiet, the only sound being the wind flapping your coats. it only makes you more aware of the warmth emanating from jon, and you both pretend you don’t lean into each other. you only remove your hand from him as you approach the box, and he puts a hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him. if jon would do so without the added ale is a thing that you question for only a moment, as the creaking of the box signals it’s begun ascent.

now you really are curious as to what jon could want. he’s an honorable man… does he need a secret kept? a new cloak? or does he just wish for a conversation in the solaced privacy of the wall?

the ride up feels shorter than usual, but you’re not sure what to blame it on. it’s a strange feeling, your nerves on fire, yet the ale douses it to a low buzz. you partially blame jon, always forgetting yourself when he’s present. how you ever hope to confront your feelings is beyond you.

when you step out, jon offers his arm this time, and you gladly accept it. perhaps you’re not the only one who finds comfort in the action.

you begin your walk, and based on the route, you think he’s taking you both to your favorite place. a quiet indent in the wall, close enough to not be a far walk, but long enough to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. it has a small wall of ice that acts as a (sort of) guard-rail, coming to the waist — but the rest is left open, the expanse of woods beyond the wall available to be gazed upon.

the quiet is comfortable, as it always is with jon. you have much on the tip of your tongue, but give him the courtesy of speaking first.

it’s not long before you’re approaching your little sanctuary; scattered black brothers are guarding the expanse of the wall behind you, and in front of you, but none linger around this area. the thought remains in the back of your mind as you make the turn, walking into the indent, the view beyond it making your breath hitch.

you remove your hand from jon’s arm, instead splaying it across the waist-high-iced-guard-rail. it’s freezing, even under your gloved hand, yet it’s a welcome respite from the way jon sets your nerves alight, turning your skin to fire. patience is hard, yet you wait for him to speak.

“What you said,” he begins. “about taking the risk,”

you turn to look at him, but this time, he doesn’t meet your eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lip, the way it does when he’s nervous. what could jon have to be nervous about?

“It made me think…”

whatever jon was going to say, you’re not sure you’ll ever know, because rapidly approaching footsteps have the words dying on his tongue — looking behind you both. who is running down the wall at this hour? and why?

a figure appears, out of breath and panting. sam.

“I looked for you! In the— in the mess hall, but— Grenn and Edd said you weren’t there, said you’d left,” you and jon must look as confused as you are, since when did sam run?

a grin erupts on sam’s face as he gets past his introduction. “I did it! I really did it!”

“Did what?” jon prompts, but you think he already knows.

“Gilly!” sam says, and you can feel your brows instantly un-crease themselves. “Well, I— you know, I was nervous. Didn’t want to ruin what we had or, or what she thought of me but.. I just sort of— went up to her and did it! I can’t believe she said yes…” he says, wistfully looking to the sky with a smile on his face, like he can’t believe the gods allowed it to happen, either. you wore one of your own, bathing in jon’s defeat.

sam looks at you both for a minute, then at jon, and the smile he’s wearing dies down as he realizes he’s interrupted. “Oh— oh, sorry… I’ll go now, I just—“ reality seems to hit him again, as another smile erupts on his face.

“I did it!” he says, then spins on his heel, leaving you both atop the wall.

a few moments pass, before you turn to look at jon. you both have a look of disbelief, yours mixed with a smile — and strangely enough, even in defeat, so is his.

“I’m thinking your rations for a month, the cloak you’re wearing...” you say, and jon huffs out a laugh (they come easier around you)

“What Sam did, is called blindsiding—“

“Hm,” you say, interrupting the end of his sentence. “It looks like defeat, instead. What were you going to demand, again?”

you’re only teasing, but you accidentally hit a soft spot. you see the way his smile falters, seriousness beginning its return to his face. it makes your own smile disappear.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to…” you say, but once you see the expression on his face, something clicks. “What were you going to ask for, Jon?”

it seems like you’ve asked him to throw himself off the wall. he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“To me it does.”

he begins to turn away from you, but your hand flies to his arm, halting him. he sighs in frustration. you try to catch his gaze, but he makes effort not to look at you.

“I won, and that’s what I ask.” you say, “For you to tell me what you wanted.”

you can see his internal turmoil, but that only makes you want to shrink away. what plagues jon so badly he dares not to speak it aloud? not speak of it to you?

you can tell he doesn’t want to say it, but a bet is a bet.

“You.”

your brows scrunch involuntarily. “Me?”

“I wanted to kiss you.” he says, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips. “Want.”

your lips part in shock. not that he wants to kiss you (you’ve known. you want to kiss him) but that you’ve been able to coax him to say as much.

your gaze flicks to his lips once, twice, and you step closer — body almost flush with his. at the same time you reach up, jon leans down, and you connect your lips with his. they’re soft, warm; everything you thought they’d be when your thoughts would drift to him.

the kiss is sweet, tentative. exploring unknown territory, but also wanting — needing. you feel jon’s hand come to your waist, pulling you even closer (if possible), your body now flush against his.

eventually, the need to breathe takes over, and you both (reluctantly) pull apart. his cheeks are flushed, and you have an idea that it’s not from the cold this time. his pupils are blown, want pooling in them; but, also, something else swims in the midst. confusion.

“But— I lost,” he says, looking to you for an answer. you pretend to take mild offense, a playful roll of your eyes accompanying your words.

“You know, Jon, when someone gets kissed, they usually don’t consider it a loss.”

it seems to be the right answer, a smile tugging its way back up his lips. his response is him leaning down to kiss you again.

[raysrays]

Shinobu smut hcs? \(^ᴗ^)/

Kochō Shinobu Smut Headcannons

18+ Content MDNI!!🚫

First time not writing for Kyojuro! Hope you enjoy and please let me know how I did!!

-tried to make these as GN as possible<3

• She's definitely a Dom. On some days, when she's exhausted from a long mission or busy at the butterfly estate, she may allow you to take control. However, most of the time, she prefers to be in charge.

• She’s into thighs, regardless whether they are soft or muscular. She doesn't discriminate in her appreciation. She likes to gently stroke them with her fingers, placing sweet, tender kisses upon them. On the other hand, she may be into sucking and biting on them, leaving distinctive marks to show you who you belong to.

• Do not let her pretty face and alluring voice mislead you; she loves to degrade you. She adores the humiliatingly desperate expression that appears on your face when she touches you.

• She’s incredibly petty. If she catches you flirting with someone else, prepare yourself for what’s coming. She’ll shower you with affection to make you feel special, but then she’ll twist things around, making you feel exposed and vulnerable before she delivers her punishment for your behavior.

• There’s definitely some sadist tendencies if you couldn’t already tell.

• Her forms of punishment can escalate dramatically based on the situation. On the milder side, she might merely restrain you and leave marks all over your body as a subtle reminder that you belong to her. Alternatively, she may go so far as to mount your face and relentlessly fuck you until only her name registers in your memory.

• Shinobu is somewhat bipolar when it comes to sex. You can usually tell what your in for based of how the day has been going.

• If the day has flowed easily, without much stress, you can expect her loving side to come out. As much as she loves to degrade you, she can also take pleasure in the sweet, gentle moments you both share. You can expect plenty of words of affirmation, long, passionate kisses, and the sweetest sex imaginable.

• On the flip side, if she’s dealing with a lot of stress throughout the day or notices you’re not meeting her expectations, brace yourself for stricter consequences. These could involve various disciplinary measures, such as: spanking, pulling on your hair, orgasm denial, biting, the list goes on.

• A noticeable authority kink exists within her, as she takes immense pride in her role as a Hashira. She expects obedience and respect towards her position, promptly reminding you of your subordinate status if any attempts at insubordination come into play.

• If there’s one thing she believes in its aftercare. Regardless of what kind of sex you got that day. The way she treats you afterward never fails to impress. She can transition from being the most heartless and sadistic person to running her fingers through your hair and covering you in kisses, or simply enhancing the amazing gentle moment you shared. It doesn't matter to her—either way, you'll be treated well.

• Teasing and Edging you come second nature to her. She loves to subtly touch you, whispering in your ear, dropping hints of what's to come later. Witnessing your flustered and worked up state throughout the day really gets her going.

• Begging 24/7. She loves it. She wants you practically in tears calling her name over and over just to so you can finish without her ruining it. She takes a lot of pride in having you under her control, and if you aren’t begging to cum you won’t be cumming at all.

• Favorite Positions (not gender specific): Face sitting, Thigh riding, Mutual masturbation, 69.

• Kinks: Orgasm control, Spanking, Sadism, Humiliation, Knife play, Spontaneous sex, Dom/Sub, Teasing, Bondage, Mirror sex.

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Ateez: Dom or Sub and Their Top Kinks

THIS LIST IS NSFW! MINORS DNI!

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics (titles used: mommy, daddy, sir, master, boss), lingerie, breeding kink, praise and degradation, bondage, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cockwarming, voyeurism and exhibitionism, begging, pet play, teasing in public, sensory play, biting, size kink, spit kink, dirty talk, gagging. If you think I missed a warning, let me know!

A/N: I decided to post another list because I really wanted to get something out this week, but I don't have any of my regular fics ready because I've been preparing for Kinktober. I'm going to try to post a list every week for the rest of September, but no promises. Still, I hope you enjoy this! If you'd like to read my other lists, you can find them in my masterlist.

List is under the cut

Seonghwa

Super soft dom

Preferred title is “mommy” or “daddy”

Loves dressing you up in pretty lingerie

Probably also has a breeding kink

Praise kink, both giving and receiving. LOVES telling you how incredible you are, and turns to a blushy mess when you do the same

Hongjoong

Slightly sadistic dom

Preferred title is “daddy” or “sir”

Definitely the most into bondage, like he LOVES seeing you tied up. He views it as an art in a way

His favorite way to make you suffer (lovingly) is to overstimulate you to the point of tears

Another one that I think would love lingerie

Yunho

Sub-leaning switch

Not one for titles or nicknames, likes hearing you say his name in bed

I don’t know if this counts, but I feel like he really likes cockwarming

Really into voyeurism, definitely fantasizes about watching one of the guys fuck you. He’s taking that shit to the grave though

Likes it when you make him beg

Yeosang

Sub

Likes to be called “pretty boy,” “angel,” and “sweetheart”

I feel like he would be really into pet play

HUGE praise kink. Tell him he’s doing well, and he will love you forever

Likes to mouth off, but the minute you call him on it he does nothing. He says he’s a brat, you don’t buy it

San

Sort of soft dom

Usually likes being called “Sannie” or some other sweet nickname, but when he gets into a more sadistic mood you get in trouble for calling him anything but “boss”

God help you if you decide to act up, especially in public

Loves sensory play, especially anything involving ice cubes

The boost to his ego when you beg is incredible. It just does something to his brain

Mingi

Chaotic switch

Preferred title as a dom is “sir” or “master,” preferred pet names as a sub are “sweetheart,” “prince,” and “slut”

Size kink!!!!

Probably into both biting and being bitten

Loves loves loves being overstimulated

Wooyoung

Bratty sub

Favorite pet names are “baby,” “love,” and “angel” (“angel” is almost always used sarcastically when he misbehaves)

One of his favorite things in the bedroom is putting on a show

Something tells me he would enjoy sensory play. Get out the hot wax and it almost becomes a game to see how long he can last (usually not very long)

Don’t spit in his mouth unless you want him to get really desperate really fast

Jongho

Dom-leaning switch

Likes being called “sir” or his name when he’s feeling more dominant. When he’s feeling more submissive, he likes to be called “angel,” “love,” or “baby”

Loves (subtle) teasing in public. When he’s feeling more submissive, it’s because he likes getting punished. When he’s feeling more dominant, it’s because he likes when you get all needy after

Either goes hard with the dirty talk or asks you to gag him. Never in between.

Literally begs to call you “mommy” when he’s deep enough in sub space, then gets really embarrassed when you bring it up after and completely denies it even happened

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you want to see the other lists I've posted, or read my fics, you can find them here! If you'd like to see the fics I'll be posting after Kinktober is done, you can read my upcoming works here! If you'd like to see what I have in store for Kinktober, you can find that masterlist here. If none of that catches your attention or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms! Have a lovely day!

Thank you again for reading my posts, seeing y'all interact makes my day.

[mystictimemachinedream]

Bound by fate(2)

a/n: Last chapter, thank you for those that have liked or reblogged my story. I really needed more Dom!Levi stories and this is how the story ended up turning out.

Leviathan x MC. Hints of Mammon x MC, Belphegor x MC and maybe Simeon x MC.

Cw: Smut, Dom!Levi, kinda Yandere!Levi(he talks about locking you up), Jealous!Levi, a bit of degradation(the words slut and whore are used), Claiming Marks, Scenting, Mates, some Non-con(Belphie scents and pins you down without consent), Levi having one dick(sorry) Fem!MC, Angel!MC, kinda ooc.

First Part

————————---

Two months had already passed, and Leviathan barely left his room, going out of his way to avoid you the few times he did. In response, you would leave food at his door when he missed a meal. It had become a frustrating routine, one that seemed to have no end in sight.

No matter how many times you knocked, he either ignored you or told you to go away, but not once did he open the door.

You sighed as you thought things over. You weren’t sure what else to do. Truthfully, you wished you could try to get him to open the door more often, but his brothers constantly wanted your attention, or you had to visit Purgatory Hall. You felt a warm sense of belonging when they sought your company, but it only added to your frustration that you hadn’t made any progress with Leviathan.

“Sweetie, what has you sighing like that?” Asmodeus asked, finally sitting on his bed where you were lying. He had whisked you away to spend time with him in his room after everyone had finished dinner, his charm hard to resist.

“Leviathan,” you replied with a pout. “He still hasn’t opened his door for me. I’m not sure what else to do.”

“He’s certainly stubborn,” Asmodeus said thoughtfully. “But dear, you only have to push his buttons. He’s the Avatar of Envy; you just need to make him jealous enough to pull you into his room.”

You grimaced. “I don’t see that going well.”

Asmodeus waved his hand dismissively, a playful smile on his lips. “Of course it won’t, but it’ll at least get him to talk to you.” He giggled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Well, there won’t be much talking involved, though.”

You flushed and averted your eyes, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“You can ask any of the brothers, but if you want to make it authentic, just snuggle up to Mammon or Belphie.” He smirked, his gaze intense. “They’ve always had a crush on you.”

Your eyes widened in shock. You hadn’t expected that in the slightest, and now you didn’t know how you’d be able to hang out with them without feeling shy. The revelation left you reeling, a mix of surprise and uncertainty swirling within you.

“I don’t want to use them like that,” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

“Well, darling, we can always find some other way,” Asmodeus said, his tone soothing as he gently stroked your head, fingers threading through your hair.

You nodded, relieved, but you didn’t notice the smile of mischief that Asmodeus had.

As you finally reached your room and laid on your bed, a sense of unease washed over you. Despite Asmodeus’s promise not to meddle, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling gnawing at you. The Avatar of Lust always enjoyed a good dose of drama and stirring people up. The last thing you wanted was to worsen things between you and Leviathan or to incite a fight among the brothers.

With a heavy sigh, you willed the troubling thoughts away and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep.

—————-------

Your worries proved correct. Over the next few days, Asmodeus began accompanying you to Leviathan’s room to drop off his food. His behavior shifted—he became flirtier, more touchy-feely whenever you both stood in front of Leviathan’s door. The pajamas he gave you, just before going to Leviathan’s door, were even shorter and skimpier than usual, leaving little to the imagination.

You began to notice that the sound of video games would stop abruptly as you approached, replaced by an eerie silence. The other brothers, too, began acting differently. They were nicer to you, borderline flirtatious, whenever they passed by you and Asmodeus in front of Leviathan’s door. Even Lucifer, though more subtly, was in on it.

You shot Asmodeus a glare and whispered as low as possible, “I told you not to meddle.”

“I’m just helping you, darling,” he whispered back with a charming smile, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You huffed, pouting. While it touched you that he wanted to help, you wished it wasn’t through making Leviathan jealous. You’d heard stories about how, if pushed too far, Leviathan would summon Lotan and cause destruction. Additionally, you were concerned about his low self-esteem. The last thing you wanted was to damage it further and make him shut you out even more.

You were glad you had asked his brothers about him and gathered all the information you could. Knowing what to expect was better than being clueless.

Lost in your thoughts, you snapped back to reality when you saw Mammon approaching. Out of all the brothers, he was the most flustered when trying to flirt with you. It was pretty cute, if you were being honest.

Mammon abruptly stopped near you and Asmodeus, his face turning bright red as he took in the nightgown clinging to your curves. “A-ain’t that too short?!” he exclaimed, quickly looking away.

Asmodeus smirked and almost purred, “Is it too stimulating for you?”

Mammon spluttered, seeming at a loss for words. Then he cleared his throat and finally looked at you with startling confidence. “Ya shouldn’t be lookin’ that good in front of anyone else other than the Great Mammon!”

You almost gasped at his words; they were extremely out of character. He was usually flustered when trying to flirt with you, and you could hardly call it flirting in the first place.

Even Asmodeus blinked in surprise before giggling in amusement.

The door swung open, revealing Leviathan in his demon form, glaring at Mammon. “Mammon,” he gritted out, “if you don’t get away from my door, I will summon Lotan.”

Mammon paled and scurried away. Even he knew better than to antagonize his brother when he was in one of his moods.

“Asmo,” Leviathan growled, his glare not softening. Asmodeus only smiled, threw his hands up in defeat, and skipped away.

You stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do.

Leviathan stared at you, his eyes slowly raking up and down your form. The grip on his door tightened. “I know I told you not to wear that type of stuff outside your room,” he rumbled.

You frowned. “Levi, is that really important right now?”

“It’s not fair that everyone gets to see you like that,” he huffed, still upset but reverting to his human form.

“Maybe you would be able to see me like this more if you actually left your room and stopped avoiding me or let me inside,” you said, irritation clear on your face.

Leviathan blushed deeply and looked away, avoiding your gaze. “As if I would let a normie into my room.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging his statement. “Well, this normie can actually learn if you would just let me.”

He finally looked at you again, his face turning an even deeper shade of red, a mix of surprise and disbelief in his eyes. “I-is this a trick? Y-you actually want to s-spend time with m-me, a worthless otaku?”

You winced at his words. You didn’t think you would ever get used to him putting himself down. It hurt you that he thought so lowly of himself, that he couldn’t see the value you saw in him.

“Levi, I’ve been coming to your door for the past two months just trying to talk to you,” you replied soothingly, your voice gentle and sincere. “I don’t think you’re worthless at all.”

Leviathan put his arm against his face, trying to hide his tears from you. “I-I just didn’t want you to be even more d-disappointed than you must be already.”

“I was never disappointed in the first place,” you reassured him, your tone firm but kind.

You took a step toward him, the sound of his sniffling pulling at your heartstrings. All you wanted to do was comfort him, to make him see how much he meant to you.

“D-don’t lie to me! I-I know how d-different I am than I u-used to be!” His voice cracked, filled with pain and self-doubt, as he tried to wipe the tears away with his sleeve.

Your eyes softened with empathy, and you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly even as he stiffened in surprise at your touch.

“I truly don’t care about that,” you whispered, gently wiping away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I just want to get to know the person you are now.”

You waited patiently, feeling his body slowly relax in your embrace. After a moment of hesitation, he tentatively wrapped his arms around you in return, nodding slightly against your shoulder.

“O-okay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with a tentative hope.

You sighed in relief, a wave of happiness washing over you. You had finally broken through the barrier he had put up, and now you had the chance to reconnect with him.

“Let’s go.” You smiled warmly at him, taking his hand and leading him back into his room.

As you stepped inside, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had led to this moment. It seemed Asmodeus’s plan had actually worked, albeit in an unexpected way. You were grateful for the support of his brothers, even if their methods were sometimes unconventional.

——————-----

For the next few months, it became a routine to visit Leviathan’s room to spend time with him. He began coming out more often, even joining everyone for meals. These visits often extended into the night, as he enthusiastically introduced you to his world of anime and games.

The first thing he showed you was his favorite anime, “The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl.” You binge-watched the entire series with him, and from there, he introduced TSL, then other anime and games.

Despite these shared experiences, he still considered you a “normie,” which you found amusing.

However, you noticed that Leviathan was careful not to touch you. Whenever physical contact occurred—either by accident or when you initiated it—he would stiffen up, blush, and quickly pull away. As someone naturally affectionate, this was disheartening, but you chose not to push him, respecting his boundaries.

Even though you didn’t press the issue, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Leviathan had been your lover, and you had shared one passionate night just before the Great Celestial War. Contrary to what humans and demons believed, angels were allowed to be in relationships and to claim and mate with other angels.

You regretted not pushing to claim each other. You understood his reasoning; he hadn’t wanted you to suffer the pain of losing a mate in the uncertain times of war.

One day, as you sat in the common room reading a book, Leviathan entered, calling your name.

“MC!” he called out, sounding nervous but determined.

You looked up, startled. “Yes, Levi?”

“I-I know you might have better things to do than spend time with a yucky otaku like me, but m-maybe, w-would you like to come watch anime with me?” he asked, a bashful smile on his face, his cheeks turning pink.

You smiled warmly at him, touched by his initiative. “I would love to. Just give me ten minutes to finish this chapter, and I’ll join you.”

His blush deepened, and he gave a jerky nod before scurrying out of the common room.

You giggled as you continued reading, but soon felt someone sitting next to you and leaning their head against your shoulder. Startled, you turned to see Belphegor with a sleepy look on his face.

“Hey, Belphie,” you greeted, closing your book and setting it aside.

“MC, want to take a nap with me?” he asked, blinking slowly and yawning.

He looked so adorable that you almost wanted to coo at him, but you shook your head. “Not this time. I’m about to go hang out with Levi.”

He frowned. “Eh, alright. You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”

You flushed and looked away. “Of course. That’s why I was so persistent in getting him to open up.”

Belphegor stared at you blankly before suddenly pinning you down, his face buried in your neck as he took a deep breath, seeming to search for something.

“Belphie? What are you doing?” you asked, frozen in shock.

“I can barely smell Levi on you. He hasn’t scented or claimed you yet,” he said, lifting his head with a smirk, his eyes smoldering.

“That doesn’t concern you,” you retorted with a frown.

He hummed, nuzzling your neck. “That means you’re free to claim. Just because you used to be lovers doesn’t mean you need to get back with him. He doesn’t even have the guts to make a move, much less claim you.”

You struggled against his grip on your wrist, frustration bubbling up as his unwelcome interference continued. “I’ve already told you that it doesn’t concern you,” you said sharply. “I’m not rushing Levi into anything.”

Belphegor scoffed and finally lifted his head, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of disdain and amusement. “Do you honestly believe he remained devoted to you?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure Lucifer shared with you how unruly Leviathan became after his fall.”

He tilted his head, a sly, almost predatory smile curling his lips. “He took your purity, never claimed you, and then leaped from bed to bed after falling.”

Your grace stirred within you, an undercurrent of agitation flaring up, making your eyes glow faintly with the intensity of your emotions. “How do you even know about that?” you demanded, your voice tight with indignation.

Belphegor rolled his eyes with exaggerated exasperation. “About your purity? It was so obvious. The way you two looked at each other afterward, how suddenly shy and distant you both became—it was clear to everyone.”

Your face flushed with a deep, burning humiliation, and you hissed at him, “What he did after he fell doesn’t concern me. I refuse to judge him for his actions.”

“Such a paragon of forgiveness,” Belphegor said, baring his teeth in a mocking grin. “Staying true to your angelic principles.”

Defeated, you slumped, knowing there was no breaking free from his grip. “Why are you saying this?” you asked, your voice tinged with hurt. “You’re being unreasonably cruel.”

“Because I want you,” he said bluntly, his eyes flashing with an intense, frustrated desire. “I’m tired of watching you pine after Levi while he continues to act like an oblivious fool.”

You stiffened, your body tense with frustration and disbelief. “You know how I feel, and yet you’re saying this?”

Belphegor, undeterred, nuzzled your cheek with his nose, his touch both intimate and intrusive. “I’ll help you get over him,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve wanted you since the Celestial Realm, but my brother got to you first.”

You remained silent.

“If Levi truly cared about you, he would have claimed you by now or at least marked you with his scent,” Belphegor continued, his hand sliding down from your wrist to caress your thigh. His touch was gentle but possessive. “I’m not afraid to be with you. I just want you to give me a chance.”

He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours, the proximity making your breath catch. His lips hovered near yours, brushing lightly with each word. “Please, give me a chance.”

You looked into his earnest eyes, a side of him you hadn’t seen before since moving in with them. The vulnerability in his gaze was striking, and you found yourself conflicted. Belphegor’s forwardness was a sharp contrast to Leviathan’s aloofness, and it stirred a part of you that had longed for such assertiveness since Leviathan’s fall.

“Belphie, I—” Before you could finish your thought, Belphegor was abruptly wrenched away from you, leaving a cold shiver running down your spine.

Leviathan appeared in the doorway, transformed into his demon form, his eyes blazing with a fierce, wild intensity you had never witnessed. His presence was imposing, almost primal.

“Belphegor, how dare you try to take what’s mine,” Leviathan growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble as he advanced slowly toward Belphegor.

“Yours?” Belphegor retorted, his voice dripping with mockery. “She’s not yours. You haven’t claimed her; your scent isn’t even on her. She’s fair game.”

Leviathan’s expression darkened, his rage simmering beneath the surface. “You know our history and what she means to me,” he said, his tone dangerously calm.

“None of that matters now,” Belphegor shot back, his eyes narrowing defiantly. “You should have claimed her back in the Celestial Realm or at least when she arrived here. If you won’t do it, then I will.”

The tension reached a boiling point as Leviathan’s fist flew toward Belphegor, striking him with a forceful punch that sent him crashing to the floor. The sound of the impact echoed through the room.

You gasped in shock, your heart racing, and rushed forward, grasping Leviathan’s arm in a desperate attempt to restrain him. “Please stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency. “Nothing happened. Let’s just go back to your room and talk.”

Leviathan’s body tensed, and with a sudden, jerky movement, he yanked you closer. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, his growl growing louder and more intense as he took in your scent.

“He’s scented you!” Leviathan roared, his voice laced with a murderous fury as he glared at his youngest brother. His anger was palpable, a dangerous edge to his words.

The situation was rapidly escalating, and you clung to Leviathan, hoping your presence would calm him. He looked down at you with a fierce, determined expression, his teeth gritted. In a swift, almost brutal motion, he picked you up. You squealed in surprise, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and your legs around his waist.

You heard the commotion in the background, brothers rushing to the common room to check on Belphegor. Others peeked out from their rooms, only to see you clinging to Leviathan as he carried you to his room. The last thing you heard was a giggle before he slammed the door shut, effortlessly getting you off him and dropping you onto a pile of sheets and pillows on the floor, which softened the fall.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as he knelt over you, his presence both imposing and magnetic. Before you could say a word, he tore your nightgown off with a swift motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“Levi!” you gasped indignantly.

He ignored you, his face burying into your neck with almost aggressive fervor, nuzzling and inhaling deeply as if trying to erase his brother’s scent from you.

You squirmed and whimpered as he began sucking and licking your neck, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. Your hands rested on his shoulders, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away from the overwhelming sensation.

“Be good and stay still,” he rumbled, his tail wrapping tightly around your waist, securing you in place. With one hand, he pinned your wrists above your head, his grip unyielding.

You whimpered but stilled. Though you weren’t opposed to what was happening, you knew you needed to talk before things went too far. Your mind fogged as his mouth trailed lower, marking the top of your breasts with the same intensity.

You barely noticed when he pulled down your bra enough for your breasts to spill over the cups. The coolness of the room made your nipples harden, and he wasted no time taking one into his mouth, sucking on the bud. He released your wrists and used his other hand to tweak your other nipple, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You whined, rubbing your thighs together as you felt your arousal grow. You could no longer ignore how wet your panties felt from his ministrations.

Leviathan finally lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he admired the marks he made from your neck to your breasts. He groaned at the sight of you—marked up, with rosy cheeks, teary eyes, bra tugged down, and tiny panties on, all while rubbing your thighs together.

He hadn’t even truly started, and you already looked absolutely wrecked.

“W-wait,” you stammered, placing your hands against his chest as he leaned down to kiss you, shaking your head.

He stilled, frowning. “Are you rejecting me?” His grip on your chin tightened as he leaned closer, his voice a low growl. “Because I don’t mind locking you up in here until you change your mind. You’re mine.”

Your breath hitched, and his words shouldn’t have turned you on as much as they did. “No, of course not. I just wanted to know what’s going to happen. You’ve been avoiding touching me this whole time, and now you’re not.”

He tilted his head, observing you like a predator ready to pounce. “I’m going to fuck and claim you. I was trying to ease you into things because of how long it’s been.” He gripped your thighs and spread your legs, his eyes darkening at the sight of the wet spot on your panties. “But I see I was mistaken in taking things slow. Too many pests want you, and I’d drown everyone before letting anyone else have you.”

“Belphegor should be glad he’s my brother because that’s the only reason I spared his life. There won’t be a second chance,” he continued, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and tossing it aside once it came off.

“Once you claim me, Father and the Seraphim will know, and I’ll be banished,” you whispered, looking into his eyes.

“Yes, that’s the plan. From the beginning, you were supposed to be by my side,” he growled, still furious about how you were stopped from going with him. “But Simeon got in the way and stopped you.”

You winced, remembering the chaos after the Great Celestial War and your anger at Simeon until he explained his actions. “Simeon had my best intentions at heart. I was so much younger, and he was afraid I wouldn’t survive the fall.”

Leviathan scoffed. “He just wanted you for himself. He was always discreet, but his longing looks gave him away.”

You wanted to protest that it wasn’t like that with Simeon, but the words died in your mouth as Leviathan used his tail to rip your panties off. You gasped as the cool air hit your dripping core.

Now completely naked under Leviathan, you flushed and suddenly felt shy, especially after he licked his lips and his eyes dilated while spreading your legs wider.

“You know angels and demons claim each other differently,” you muttered, tugging on his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You didn’t want to be the only naked one.

He chuckled, tugging his shirt off and dropping it to the side. “Of course I’m aware, but you also know I can still make you my mate. Angels just aren’t allowed to do so; it’s instant banishment after judgment in the Celestial Realm.”

He cupped your cheek and pulled you into a smoldering kiss, deepening it by biting your bottom lip. You gasped, and his tongue invaded your mouth, coaxing yours to intertwine with his, making you whine.

You were lightheaded when he finally pulled away, a string of saliva the only thing connecting you.

His fingers trailed from your inner thigh to your soaking core, tracing a tantalizing path before he eased a finger into you. He pumped it slowly, his thumb simultaneously rubbing your clit in languid, torturous circles, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

You mewled, your hips bucking involuntarily when he added another finger. He stretched you, his pace quickening slightly as he worked you open, his touch both gentle and demanding.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Leviathan groaned, his voice thick with desire as he kissed your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses. His thumb circled your clit faster, his other hand finding its way to your breast. He pinched and pulled your nipple, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. The stimulation was overwhelming; you had only just started, yet you were already ready to cum.

“L-Levi!” you cried out, your nails raking down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. Your cunt fluttered around his fingers as he added a third, stretching you even further and making you gasp in surprise.

“That’s it, let go,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot with precision. You arched your back, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your release gushing onto his fingers.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, eliciting a whimper from you, and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied moan. He was definitely going to devour you with his mouth and make you choke on his cock later, but for now, he needed to be inside you.

With a swift movement, he stripped off his pants, freeing his hard, leaking cock. He pumped it a few times, his eyes locked onto yours as you bit your bottom lip in anticipation. He was still so big and thick, the sight of him only making your desire burn hotter. The first time, he had been assertive but hesitant, yet now his confidence was evident, and it turned you on even more.

He flipped you onto your hands and knees, pulling your hips up and making you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He rubbed his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slick before easing his way in. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, feeling so full as he filled you to the brim with a loud groan.

You had to remind yourself to breathe, gripping the sheets tightly as he started to move, his pace slow and measured to let you adjust to his size. Each thrust was deliberate, designed to drive you wild.

“Your cunt feels so good,” he panted, his voice strained as he fought to hold back from just pounding into you. He spread your cheeks, watching his cock slide in and out, mesmerized by the sight of your slick clinging to him, your cunt greedily trying to suck him in deeper. He cursed under his breath at the lewd sight.

He picked up the pace, setting a brutal rhythm as he relentlessly hit your g-spot. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the room, blending with your cries of pleasure and his guttural moans.

“S-so good,” you whined, bouncing your hips back to meet his thrusts, desperate for even more of him. Every nerve in your body seemed to be on fire, the pleasure coursing through you in waves, leaving you trembling and breathless.

Leviathan chuckled darkly. “What a dirty little angel. You like how I’m fucking you?” His voice was a low growl. He slammed into you with a hard, precise thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. “Just remember that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. This cunt is mine.”

“Y-yes! Only yours!” Your voice was a high-pitched, desperate wail as your eyes rolled back in your head. He took a fistful of your hair and tugged hard, the pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure and making you clench tighter around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut. I was supposed to gently make love to you, but you really just wanted me to take you like the whore you are.” His words were laced with both amusement and possession as he moved your hair to the side, exposing the nape of your neck. He stared at the soft, vulnerable skin, knowing he was going to leave his mark there. His fangs extended as he increased the pace of his thrusts. His tail slithered around your body, the smooth, cool scales contrasting with your heated skin, and the tip of his tail circled around your clit, adding another layer of stimulation.

You let out a loud, lewd mewl, your body writhing under his touch as you slammed your eyes shut. You were teetering on the edge of orgasm, every muscle tense with anticipation. In a flash, your wings emerged, extending out as your halo shone brightly above your head, casting a soft, golden light.

Leviathan’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of your wings and halo, but he didn’t stop his relentless thrusting. The image in front of him was the epitome of sinful: pretty snowy white wings and a radiant halo out, all while you were being fucked dumb on his cock. He could already imagine how much more pretty it would be when those snowy white wings turned black and that shining gold halo transformed into horns.

“I-I’m cummin’!” You cried out as you gushed on his cock, trembling with tears in your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum in that messy little cunt while I claim you,” he growled, his voice thick with possessiveness. “No one will ever question who you belong to.” He leaned over you, his hot breath fanning over the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With a powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, releasing his cum inside your velvety cunt accompanied by a loud moan. His mouth found the tender skin of your nape, and he bit down hard, drawing blood. You screamed, the mixture of pleasure and pain blurring together.

You felt an intense wave of emotion washing over you—his deep love and passion he was currently feeling. It flowed through you as you shakily exhaled. Finally, you were his, and he was yours.

He slowly withdrew from you, eliciting a soft whine from your lips at the sudden emptiness and sensitivity. Gently, he moved you onto your back and gathered you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

He nuzzled into your hair, a deep rumble of contentment vibrating through his chest. A blush spread across his face as the reality of what had just happened hit him.

“I love you, Levi,” you whispered, your voice soft and sincere while intertwined your fingers with his.

“I-I love you too,” he stammered, burying his face in your hair to hide his face, making you giggle sweetly.

“Simeon should be on his way to take me to the Celestial Realm for my judgment,” you mentioned absentmindedly, your thoughts drifting to the inevitable. You knew your fate was sealed—you would become a demon, either through your Father’s banishment or slowly by Levi’s side. The Celestial Realm, with its rigidity when it came to rules, insisted on formal banishment for angels who mated outside their kind. It was simpler to comply than to risk them taking you by force.

Leviathan tightened his arms around you, his embrace desperate and firm. “I don’t want you to leave. You can just go through your change here,” he murmured.

“I know, I’d rather do that, but we both know how the Celestial Realm is. Either I go willingly or they’ll take me by force,” you replied, your voice soft and resigned. You tried to send soothing emotions through your bond, sensing his growing agitation. His growl at the thought of you being taken by force was low and menacing.

The two of you stayed cuddled together for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence. Eventually, you gently urged him to get up so you could both clean yourselves. Despite the ache in your heart, you knew it was futile to linger.

As you were lost in thought, a knock on the door startled you. Lucifer’s commanding voice broke through the silence. “MC, Simeon is here for you.”

Turning to Leviathan, you gazed deeply into his eyes, your hands clasping his tightly. “Will you be there to catch me when I fall?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

“Always,” he vowed, before crashing his lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. The intensity of it left you both breathless.

Panting, you reluctantly pulled away, resting your forehead against his. Even as you separated, your hands remained intertwined. Together, you walked to the front door, where Simeon waited. He smiled at you, but his eyes betrayed the sadness he felt.

“Are you ready, MC?” Simeon asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, turning to Leviathan for one last fleeting kiss. “I’ll see you soon,” you whispered, squeezing his hand before letting go and stepping to Simeon’s side. The two of you walked out of the house, moving towards Barbatos, who stood waiting with a solemn expression.

“Are you happy?” Simeon whispered, his hand twitching as if to cup your cheek. He stopped himself, knowing that right didn’t belong to him—perhaps it never had.

“Extremely,” you replied, smiling brightly. Simeon could only smile back, though the sorrow in his eyes was unmistakable.

You didn’t regret anything.

————--------

Only a few days had passed, and now, judgment day had arrived. You could feel Leviathan’s agitation and panic even from afar. The only reason he hadn’t found a way to storm into the Celestial Realm was that he knew you were still alive.

You stood in front of your Father and the Seraphim with your head held high, your heart pounding as they read your so-called “sins.” The celestial court was silent, the weight of their gazes almost unbearable.

“Is there anything you wish to say?” Michael asked, his voice echoing through the grand hall. A look of soft fondness crossed his face so quickly that you almost missed it. He should have known this would happen when he sent you to the Devildom where Leviathan was. You would never understand why he did it, though.

“No,” you replied, your voice steady.

At your response, the floor beneath you started to shake. Cracks spidered out from where you stood, and the ground slowly crumbled away. You tried to keep your composure as the marble gave way under your feet, plunging you down.

And you fell.

You closed your eyes, feeling the wind whip past you, the burning pain starting as your halo melted into your scalp and your wings ignited, turning into fiery remnants of their former glory. Every fiber of your being was consumed by pain, yet you weren’t scared. You knew someone would be there to catch you.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a protective embrace. The fall slowed as Leviathan’s familiar presence enveloped you. He cushioned your descent, his body shielding you from the worst of the impact as you reached the ground.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice soothing amidst the chaos. You could feel his desperation and relief, his resolve to keep you safe no matter what.

As he rushed you to the House of Lamentation, his pace urgent but careful, you clung to him, feeling the beat of his heart against yours. Despite the agony and the fear, you knew you had made the right choice.

You didn’t regret falling in love, and you didn’t regret falling from grace. Every moment, every sacrifice, had led you to this point. You would do it all over again, just to be with him.

[makelemonade]

debt!collector childe falling in love with you (f) despite hardly ever speaking to you and only watching you hand over the money

The first time Childe saw you, he didn’t really think you were anything special. Just another girl who had borrowed money, and now it was time to pay it back.

However, he couldn’t deny he was a bit interested in the way you acted. Most people who were in debt would come begging for mercy, cower in fear, or half the time they wouldn’t show up and he’d have to hunt and take them down. Yet whenever you showed up, you had a bright smile on your face, and you were so polite.

He’d watch the way you treated his agents with respect, even when they were rude or made comments. You’d just smile, and hand over the money you owed and wished them a good day. Sometimes you’d even make small talk while the money was counted.

There was never a time he had to get involved. His job was to boss around the agents to get the money, and then report back to Pantalone on how much was being returned. He liked that he didn’t have to get involved with you, although he was kinda starting to wish he could.

Over time, Childe started to notice more about you. Sometimes, his kinder agents would spark up a conversation with you, and he’d start listening in a bit more than he usually did. Your eyes would light up when you started rambling about something passionately. He knew you liked to garden and bake.

He liked that you stood up for yourself. Sometimes his, more, what’s the word? Asshole agents would make a retort, and yet you’d fight back so politely. He’d get closer whenever an agent said something, in case he had to intervene, but he never did, because you always stood up for yourself in the right ways that didn’t anger them.

He’d fully watch in admiration.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. He’d hardly speak to you and yet after you handed over the money, you’d look up at him, smile and bid him goodbye. He loved the way you carried yourself with such quiet dignity. It didn’t make sense, but he really liked it.

A few months passed and Childe started looking forward to the meetings with you. He even started making sure the meet up spots were nicer; instead of the quiet corners at night, he’d start setting them up for flower fields so you could admire the flowers for your love of gardening, or by the beach. He wanted you to be more relaxed than you somehow already were.

On one of your meeting days, the wind was strong, making the flower fragrances stronger. He didn’t know what overtook him, but at the end of the meeting before you bid goodbye, he’d picked a flower and handed it to you. “For you.” He smiled, his voice soft.

You brightly smiled at him, taking the flower from his hand and tucking it into your hair. “Thank you, Tartaglia.”

He shook his head. “Call me Childe.”

You were a little surprised, but nodded either way. “Thank you, Childe.

His heart skipped a beat, and he gave you a wink before dismissing his agents and everyone took their leave.

He decided to be a little more bold. The next meeting was at a restaurant. With his connections, he had reserved a private room with his agents guarding it. It was a nice elegant restaurant by the ocean.

“Order something. Anything.”

You were still shocked at, well, everything. The meet up spot itself and the fact you were sitting across a feared Harbinger who was asking you to order food.

“Oh, no I couldn’t-“

“Please.” He met your eyes, smiling. “It’s on me. You deserve it after all these stressful meet ups.”

You looked around, and met your eyes with the two agents who were ordered to stay in there. They were smiling, seemingly also encouraging you to order something.

Childe saw the way you looked at them for help. “I’m ordering them food as well, so don’t feel any more guilt ridden. I think you’re forgetting I’m a very rich man.”

“I…okay.” You let out a soft chuckle, smiling before looking down at the menu.

You only looked for a few seconds, and right when you opened your mouth, he cut you off.

“Don’t order the cheapest thing you see.” He murmured, still looking over his menu.

An agent let out a chuckle and you closed your mouth, nodding. You both looked up at the same time, giving each other cheeky smiles before looking back at the menu.

Once the food arrived, he was almost…mesmerized, watching you eat it. It sounded so weird, but he liked watching how you enjoyed the moment, and how you’d laugh whenever you’d bring up a story to fill the silence since he couldn’t be too talkative. He loved it.

Throughout the evening, Childe found himself scooting closer to you- literally. He’d scoot his chair over with the excuse he couldn’t hear you from across the table, and at some point, your knees were touching.

The problem was, he knew you had a boyfriend, but a shitty boyfriend at that. He put the pieces together from the info you’d give at meetings, and he’d also asked Pantalone for your file. He found out it was your boyfriend who had tricked you into borrowing the money for his gambling addiction. How he promised to pay it off, but he never did. Instead, he left you to face the consequences while he lived his life without a care.

As the night went on, food long gone and just continuously asking for refills, Childe leaned in slightly, his voice quieter. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

You smiled, warmth filling your chest at his words. “Thank you for this. It’s been a while since I got to enjoy myself like this, and it’s a nice change from our usual spots.”

Childe smiled back, his usual confident persona softening as he watched you. “You deserve it. You deserve more than just handing over Mora every week.

Your heart skipped a beat, not knowing what to say, but you felt guilty- what about your boyfriend? The one you’ve been with for years.

And yet whens the last time he took you out on a date like this?

Wait, was this a date?

The way he looked at you, it was a way no one had looked at you before, or, well, maybe your boyfriend when you began dating, but you haven’t gotten that look in a long time. He looked at you like you were more than just some woman that owed money that he was being kind to, he looked at you like he wanted to understand you, to be with you.

He looked at you like you deserved more.

“Thank you, Childe.”

“Call me Ajax.”

A few weeks later, after more flower field meet ups, you had shown up to a seaside meet up looking distressed. It was windy, your hair was flowing all over your face, but it definitely wasn’t the wind making you tear up.

You came slouched, no kind smile on your face, and it looked like you were holding the weight of the world on your back. The moment Childe noticed all this, he immediately dismissed the agents, not letting any of them argue that they need to stay there to “protect” him. As if he can’t protect himself- he’s stronger than them all combined.

He approached you, hovering above you. “Hey…what’s wrong, cutie?” His voice was almost soothing.

You tried to act like nothing was wrong, but your voice wavered. “It’s nothing.” You muttered, holding back tears which he noticed.

He didn’t think before cupping your face, his thumb wiping a tear that slipped down your cheek. “Not a good idea to lie to me. What’s going on?”

Despite him being a harbinger, despite him having invisible blood on his hands from over a hundred enemies, despite the scars from said enemies littering his hands that were holding your face, you let your guard down, because this wasn’t a harbinger- this was Ajax.

“He’s been cheating on me.”

“What?” He breathed out.

“My- my boyfriend. He has been cheating on me, for the last 6 months. Every meet up we went to, and before, he’d go meet up and hook up with a random chick. He- he’s probably been taking her on dates- maybe more than he’s ever taken me on, maybe he’s been buying her gifts, paying for her dinners, lunches- nothing, nothing he’s ever given me-“ and like that, you broke down crying as he held you.

Every word you said, his jaw tightened, and rage filled his eyes, or was it rage? you couldn’t tell as you looked into them, it was a mix of protectiveness, anger, something you just couldn’t place.

“You don’t fucking deserve him.” He scoffed out, “He should’ve never treated you like that. You’re too good for him. Too perfect for him. Fuck, I could kill him.”

His rage startled you, yet his words made you feel something.

He wiped away another tear, and reached into his pocket to pull his notepad out. Letting go of you, he began writing down and ripped a paper out after.

He shoved it into your pocket, letting his hands stay on your hips. “That’s my address- where I’ve been staying. If you need me, just to talk, or anything, just come, okay?”

You didn’t even hesitate, immediately nodding your head. Why were you agreeing to this? Did you have to repeat everything in your head? He was a killer, worked for a somewhat horrible organization, and you barely knew him anything about him.

And yet he was the kindest man you’d ever met. The man who’d take care of you during all these meetings. Protected you.

That night, you found yourself standing in front of Childe’s house, it was a big, comfy estate. You didn’t feel welcome here.

You turned to leave, thinking this was stupid- he was probably just being nice.

And yet, the door opened, and you felt arms wrap around you from behind and pull you inside. Now this would actually seem very threatening, and yet you felt warm when he did it.

He spun you around and you hugged him. “We got into a huge fight. I- I broke it off with him, and I didn’t know where to go and this was the first place I thought I could go- I, I can’t believe it! I trusted him, and he did this to me. How- how could I let him do that to me?! I’m so stupid!”

“Shh, no it’s okay.” He caressed the back of your head, holding you tight. “You’re not stupid. He’s an assahole and he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anything.”

It was hard to piece together or remember what happened after that. You just remember sobbing while eating all his snacks and he could only watch with a laugh, and at some point you were in his bed- it wasn’t anything bad, he just held you.

This was not normal in anyway. A man you hardly knew, even though you’ve, in a way, been seeing him for months.

And yet he’s treated you better than any man you’ve ever met- any man you’ve been on a date with, talked to, or dated.

He was better than all of them.

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself alone in his bed. You wanted to stay- it was such a soft bed, and his cologne lingered in the air, and yet it all came back to you- how you barged into his home crying, ate all his food and probably wet his shirt in your tears.

In full honestly, you didn’t know why you were so upset. You knew your boyfriend was a dick, and you were honestly kinda happy you were both finally done.

You just wish it was on better terms, not a whole cheating fiasco that had to make you realize your self worth.

Childe must’ve been so annoyed. You got up, gathering anything you had to leave, and yet as you made your way to the door, it swung open and there he was, a pleased grin on his face.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a soft smile, closing the door behind him.

“I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome,” you muttered, feeling embarrassed. “I’m so sorry about last night.”

Childe scoffed, shaking his head. “Please don’t apologize. I told you to come and I’m happy you did.”

He pulled you into an embrace, then smiled. “I’ve taken care of things.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I visited your ex this morning,” Childe spoke with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now he’s the one paying your debt. I made sure of it.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed his words. “W-what? Are you serious?”

“Super serious.”

You felt the tears burn your eyes. “I don’t- what- I…I don’t know how to thank you-“

Childe’s smile softened, his hands cupping your face to wipe a tear. “You don’t need to thank me. Just be mine.

“Y/N, I’ve been with you for months. I’ve seen you struggle, seen you suffer, and it’s driven me insane knowing that you have been with someone who never deserved you- someone who has taken you for granted, a beautiful, kind soul. He used you, hurt you, threw you away like you were nothing. But you’re not nothing. You’re everything. And I need you.”

His face inched closer, his breath hitching as it fanned onto your lips, his arms moved to snake around your waist.

His voice was laced with desperation. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ll never have to work yourself to exhaustion, never have to worry about where your next payment is coming from. I’ll make sure you’re safe, happy, loved. I’ll make sure you have everything and more.”

His forehead rested against yours as he exhaled shakily.

“J-just say yes. Say you’ll be mine. I don’t care if we barley know each other or the circumstances, we can grow and we can do this I know we can because- becaude I think I love you. I promise I will never let anything hurt you ever again.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. But it was not in a bad way- it could never be. You liked this side of Childe; this raw, possessive, protective side of him.

You could no longer deny it. You were in love with him too, and he was everything you’ve ever wanted- no, needed.

“I’ll be yours and more.””

[turtle-steverogers]

i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

The Butterfly King

Prologue and cover

WARNING: Please note this story will have elements of violence, death, horror, and fantasy religion. Read with caution.

This story takes place in a wof au that involves my fantribe the weevilwings. Big differences in this au from canon wof is the inclusion of knights and different deities that affect the world.

If you'd like this prologue and would like to stay further updated feel free to subscribe to the toyhouse story which will be linked below. Either way hope you enjoy as I attempt to get this idea out of my brain <3

"She's not doing well." 

The doctors eyes fell quickly with her words. Shame weighed down her scales, their usual jungle green vibrance gone. 

"Doesn't seem like anyone is..." My own words are less then comforting yet what else was there to say? Something more than a simple sickness was flowing through Pantala. Spreading fast. Queen Peapod's final daughter was behind the willow branch door. Writhing in pain and torment, occasionally screeching out nonsense no one could make out. 

"I wish I could do something... but whatever is in there is beyond me." Her talon runs across her cheek. Exhaustion pulled at her eyelids as they glanced once more at the door. "You've done your best that's what matters." I attempt to quietly shift in my armor to allow her to pass. 

"I know but I want to be able to do more than just fetching her wet moss." she pauses briefly "Has her majesty thought about contacting some dragon more...religious?" 

"Religious?" My brow raises as she lowers her voice "Yes. Such as a weevilwing priestess. I've heard they have been able to heal some more... miraculous ailments. There are others I've heard of though. The tree sisters, hive rabble, followers of the Great ice dragon, sky watchers, moons! even the beetles have rumors of religious groups." 

"You think there's something religious about this? As you better be certain before even considering the idea." I attempt to reign back the bark in my voice. I dont mean to be so rude but even the idea of starting religious rumors churns my stomach. The tree sisters, a leafwing group, were already torn in two and adding them directly into this would deepen the rift. The scarier thought was that of what if she was right. If this was something beyond our control. How do we battle that? 

"I.." The doctors mouth opened and closed many times. Wings drooping and head shaking she forced the words out "I'm... not.. sure..." tears broke as she shook her head once more. Silent tears turned to sobs and her head now pressed into my chest plate. "Please I'm begging you Hogweed. Bring up the idea with the queen you know she trusts you... she'll just be angry at me. The kingdom is out of doctors and we are running out of time. Remember your knights oath...please.." She broke into more sobs.

"Myrtle. Save your tears." Lowering my head I brush against her leafy frill, a sweet scent hits my nose. Most leafwings had some floral scent but something about Myrtle's was calming. "I will bring it up with the Queen, but I can't promise anything." She retracts "Thank you." 

a wing curls up to wipe her face "I need to get going. Venus is most likely growing uncomfortable and I'm already out of water." Just like that she snaps back into work. Her eyes race around in thought, tail grabbing an empty jar as she starts down the hall. "Keep an eye on her and..and be careful." With that she was gone. I was left alone again back to thinking about her mentions of religion. A shiver ran down my frill as the dimly firefly lit halls held a colder stare. Often you could hear crickets, frogs, and other night critters among the palace but tonight it was silent. In forests and jungles silence is never a good sign and tonight felt no different. 

Thunk

My head turns back to the door

THunk thunk

Slowly I push through the willow "Your grace?" I didnt expect any coherent answer but even a growl of pain would let me know she's still alive. Nothing. Silence once more. Worrying is beginning to take over as I push in further. "Your grace?"

Thunk 

Turning toward her bed I find she has managed to roll her head off the pillows. It raises gently and falls back to the floor. Thunk. poor thing. Too weak to even lift her own head. I start towards her to help when a cold chill stops me. 

"Hogweed.." She sucks in a harsh breath hissing my name "...son of Goatgrass... successor of snakeroot..." another hissing breath which quickly turned into a coughing fit. 

"Your grace?"

Her head lifts in an un-dragon like fashion. Stretching like a snake and rolling backward to look at me. A normal dragon could only hold this stretched backwards glance for a few moments before a headache would set in... she held it for long silent moments. A wheezing breath turned into a low growl, nothing her grace could have ever made. The growling started within her chest and crawled up her throat, exiting as a deep chuckle. The fireflies lighting her room stopped flashing and left me with only the dim mercy of the moons. "Your blood doesn't remember but I do... I had eons to remember."

"Who are you." My voice isn't as strong as it should have been and the voice relishes in this hesitance with another laugh. 

"Ask those religious leaders you wish to call upon. Maybe they can tell you..." Venus's body flexed in odd manners. Wings twisted as talons jerked out clawing at things not there "Or maybe they have forgotten as you have." it laughed again.

I shook my head "Whatever you are let her go. She's done nothing to you-"

"Wrong!" fangs flashed and her limbs drooped once more "You've all done something. All guilty." It spat "Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!" the grumbling voice turned back to Venus's as the chant went on. Her body untwisted as she chanted the scream louder.

"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!"

I stumble back as she trashed about. I barely noticed Myrtle's return. She says something to me before rushing over to try and calm Venus. I can't hear her. Myrtle was right. This wasn't something within our medical understanding. This was something worse. With pounding heart I turn and rush out of the room. Venus's screams only grow louder. 

"Guilty!"

https://toyhou.se/~literature/298958.the-butterfly-king

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Op characters with a clingy/handsy drunk? let's go

suggestive in Sanjis, Luffy, Brooks, DEFINITELY in Namis and Frankys and maybe Usopps? Mostly vague stuff, on that note would you guys actually be interested in like nsfw stuff? I know I'm really toeing the line here and i have drafts but I'm nervous to post😭.

Feel like this could be ooc in some places but who cares😻(me :()

Luffy

Giggles a lot, he finds it so cute and it really makes him feel warm in his chest. He can't get enough of you to be honest. Like this man loves physical touch but be warned he will think it's a sudden new level in your 'friendship'(read:in love with each other) and start acting that affectionate all the time. Willing to carry you around and also wrap himself around you so you can walk with him just there, yes this includes to the bathroom-

Zoro

Adores it. I think he actually loves affection and physical touch but just doesn't say it because he thinks it's obvious (it's not). So when you come up to him, wobbly and on your 6th drink, and just practically throw yourself into his arms hes just like :/). Makes sure you stay nice and close to him because he doesn't want you clinging to anyone else, and he always makes sure you drink water before bed even if bed involves falling asleep on top of him.

Sanji

Makes him nervous to be honest. Usually he's the forward one in the relationship but here you are untucking his shirt just to shove your hands up it. He absolutely will shriek if its in front of other people, and he's trying to wrangle your grabby hands but he really enjoys it so his resolve is so weak. Tries to satiate you by being affectionate back but it just makes you worse and he ends up taking you to a more private area so he at least doesn't have to blush in front of others.

Nami

She thinks it's so cute. Let's you do whatever you want as long as the people around you are comfortable and you've said it's fine(when sober ofc), but she doesn't really care about people seeing until you start trying to either get undressed or undress her and then she takes you to a private space because she's ever so slightly possessive. Listen for a girl who didn't have much, you add a lot of value to her life and she wants to treasure you properly, she doesn't trust anyone else to appreciate you the way you deserve.

Usopp

Surprisingly confident. You come up to him with this big dreamy smile and you're practically falling over yourself so he just- scoops you up. Front piggyback style yk, he's got one arm under your ass supporting your weight and the other one is holding his drink, listen this mf is strong okay you think a man who can build a boat isn't strong? Fool. He just lets you do what you want to be honest, one of your hands is tucked in his back pocket, the other is trying and failing to undo his overalls and he's just like "You okay honey?".

Robin

She's flustered. She's not that used to physical affection so it makes her really giggly and blushy, though she's still quite confident in her words and actions, she's fr twirling her hair around her finger. She has quite a high tolerance for alcohol but she actually gets a bit similar when she's drunk, she's more reserved of course but she just melts into you like butter on a hot pan. The crew always take so many pictures because they think it's so cute, literally every celebration you two just end up cuddling and then it sorta turns into a big cuddle pile with the crew because seeing her relax gets them emotional.

Franky

Oh baby you are looking in a mirror. He is just as bad if not worse- when he gets drunk he is a massive flirt and a massive tease. He's so giving in relationships and usually you don't have to ask twice but being drunk will mean he wants you to practically beg for a kiss. Half because he thinks it's funny and half because he's a horny bastard- Though if you get upset then he immediately drops the teasing, even when drunk he's so considerate of your feelings and your boundaries.

Brook

Doesn't mind at all but prefers to be in private when you're like this.

Quick headcannon that his bones are more sensitive than skin because there's less external protection-

Lets just say one time you touched a sensitive area in public and he will never get over the reaction he had or the fact that other people saw it. So you go to room jail as soon as you start trying to practically crawl inside his clothes to be as close as possible. He's not mad though, he giggles the entire way, he's just very shy about his interests.

Jinbei

Flustered as hell but makes him feel really secure in your relationship. Also, he lowkey loves being able to bring it up to tease you later, like he pulls an uno reverse when you're sober and you're just like omg omg omg- He's a sneaky guy fr, does so many unexpected things in a relationship. Don't get me wrong though he'd never let you do anything inappropriate, even when drunk he's very aware of boundaries and social etiquette so if he notices you getting a bit grabby then he takes you somewhere private for both your benefit and the people around you.

Sabo

Oh baby. This man is feral don't even start. The first time he experiences it, it's actually really unexpected, it's quite early in your relationship so you havent been too affectionate yet, but you come up to him and just sit down. On him. And you can practically see his brain melting out of his ears, his face goes so red you think he's going to pass out but the second you stand up, drunk and lowkey sad, he snatches you back down. You wanted to sit there, you are going to sit there now you have no choice. (You do but would you want to get up?)

Ace

Menace. Cannot even state how much of a menace. He's so physically affectionate that it usually flusters even the most confident people, and this is while sober, so if you start getting clingy when drunk he just becomes obsessed. But he absolutely hates it if you're like that with other people so once you start getting to that stage then he's whisking you away to your shared room, usually you stick to him like glue anyways but the crew love to wind him up by coaxing you away from him with food and funny stories.

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for Completed Fics Under 4000 Words

Hope everyone likes my selection here! I've got 21 fics for your perusal, mostly either humor or angst fics. When it comes to shorter wordcounts, those are the two genres that tend to make the greatest impact for me. Humor especially seems to thrive in short-form fics, I rarely see it in longer ones - if it appears in longer fics, it's usually in rom-com form.

I've tagged every author that I knew the tumblr username of. Feel free to tag the author if I didn't manage to get them!

All of these fics will be in my Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024 Collection, and if you like that, please consider checking out my other collections, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2023, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2022, and Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics - Misc. Years.

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The Challenges of Changing Your Life by Shortdreamer

In the days following their return to their own universe Marinette was faced with several new challenges. But the most intimidating challenge that Marinette faced was getting to know her “new” partner.

Great ML Paris Special fic here! I love Marinette changing how she interacts with the people in her life in order to try to forge relationships, and hopefully, maybe even gain some semblance of the life her counterpart has.

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The Magical Rainbow Flying Caticorn by CrochetJellybean

Kagami is just trying to have a fun day with Marinette when Felix keeps messaging her. Apparently Adrien stole the peacock miraculous and won't give it back.

So this is a fun little fic. Felix is very annoyed at having lost his Miraculous, but hey, at least the kwamis are amused with the situation! There might as well be some sort of upside to being a Senti XD.

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The Self I Should Be (The Self I Could Be) by @pisoprano

Adrien realizes he has some feelings for Loveybug. Loveybug realizes that Adrien still misses Ladybug.

I love how this fic explores "private selves" and "public selves" for both Adrien and Marinette, lets them both relax a bit and decide what kind of dynamic they want to have. It's excellent!

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never been in love by @bittersweetresilience

Félix wonders if he has a heart. If he does, it doesn't beat like that.

I love this look at aromantic!Felix, him wrestling with his feelings (or lack of them) as he struggles to come to terms with them, especially since part of his father's abuse involved Colt telling him he could never love.

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Always Trending! by @candlemouse

Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube argue over the Parisian superheroes’ relationship and identities. Things heat up even more when interviews from the Ladyblogger, Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste, and Ladybug release!

This is a fun little glimpse into social media within Miraculous's world, especially with the speculation over secret identities. People keep on putting forward Adrien Agreste as possibly being Ladybug or Chat Noir, even though he's too busy to possibly be a superhero XD

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Paper Masks by @jheqiawrites

“How do you feel about causing a little mischief?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I beg your pardon?” Loveybug swatted him playfully on the shoulder. “You know, trouble, pranks, clownery, buffoonery, silliness, a lark, a jest, sheer jiggery-pokery!” “That depends on what kind of shenanigans you had in mind.” She giggled, eyes wide and bright with appreciation. “ Ooh, that’s a good one! I should write that down sometime. But, as for your question…” She pulled her yoyo out and flicked it open, spilling white light over their feet. “It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of concern,” Catwalker said, but forgot immediately what else he had been going to say when he saw Loveybug pull roll after roll of toilet paper out of the white field. All he could do was stare as she continued to pull out rolls until she had made a small pyramid on the floor next to them. “Excuse me if I sound rude, but what on earth are you going to do with those?” The smile she gave him was pure puckishness. She waved at the bright figure of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “My lord, have you ever TPied a national monument?”

Loveybug AU fic here! (obviously). I loved the absurdity of these two trying to TP... well, I won't spoil where they eventually decide deserves the treatment XD. Mostly, though, I love both Loveybug and Cat Walker (but mostly Loveybug) breaking down, breaking out of their new personas, and really getting to talk with each other.

---

you could win a rabbit by @purplecatghostposts

Félix raises an eyebrow but obliges. He should probably get on with it before Adrien second guesses himself too hard and tries to take it back. Félix pulls the tissue paper out and squints at what’s inside. It’s— a plushie? He takes it out of the bag to get a better look at it. All of the air is stolen from his lungs the second he does. A rabbit plushie. A white rabbit plushie. (Or for Félix’s next birthday, Adrien teams up with Marinette to make Félix a rabbit plushie, much like the one he had as a kid. Old feelings Félix thought he buried return in full force.)

I loved seeing a potential backstory to the torn stuffed bunny we saw in the play in Representation, and Felix's reaction to getting another rabbit plush was heart-wrenching!

---

A Domestic Cold War by @unecoccinellenoire

Félix lives with a murderer. It’s not the first time. Unfortunately his cousin would never ever forgive him if Félix was to take Nathalie Sancoeur off the board.

I like the conversation Nathalie and Felix have here. They don't like each other (or well, Felix doesn't like Nathalie, Nathalie is just ambivalent about him), but they come to an understanding. It's interesting to see Nathalie's viewpoint on life and killing, and hear allusions to the things she was up to before she became Gabriel's secretary.

---

the eyes that follow me; the ghost of my errors by NeonLite

There was something wrong with Duusu. More than Felix thinks should be. He didn’t have a frame of reference for Duusu’s behaviours. He doesn’t know what’s normal for the Kwami or how Kwami were supposed to act at all. The information he gathered from the tablet wasn’t much, he learned even less about the Kwamis but… Felix didn’t have a frame of reference for Duusu’s behaviour. But he didn’t think the Kwami of Emotion should look so empty.

I love how this fic acknowledges how Felix doomed the rest of the kwamis to staying with Gabriel, and how unhappy Duusu would be about that. Which Felix understands, but he was also desperate, and right now he can't stay transformed for long or keep any sentis he makes alive, which just... you can feel his desperation and bottled-up guilt. He knows what he did was wrong, but he'd still do it again, in order to feel safe for once in his life.

---

see a world so beautiful and strange (spinning off somewhere) by @that-was-anticlimactic

“Why? Why are you suppressing?” “Because I can't tic,” Alya whispered, fingernails digging into the skin on her arm. “I know Tourette’s isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s part of my identity as Alya Césaire. It can’t be a part of Rena Rouge, too. Someone could figure out who I am and then…” And then she’d have to give up the coolest thing that’s ever happened to her, give up living her dreams. [or, alya suppresses as rena rogue in order to protect her identity, but neither ladybug nor trixx will let her hurt herself like that]

I love how this fic goes into some of Alya's thoughts and insecurities about having Tourette's, how the general public doesn't understand, and then lets her receive comfort and validation afterwards. It's just... really nice.

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i'm worried 'bout the future by @purplecatghostposts

He edges closer to Adrien, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “If it comes down to it, I’ll distract him while you run and hide the first second you get.” “What?” Adrien blurts, louder than Félix would like. His eyes dart to Argos but thankfully, he doesn’t turn around. Félix shoots Adrien a look to lower his voice and thankfully, his cousin listens. “You think we can’t trust him?” “He has the Peacock Miraculous.” Félix points out. “He’s from the future.” Adrien counters. “And Future Chat Noir trusts him so… Maybe we can trust him too?” (Or Chat Noir and a Peacock Hero from a decade in the future end up in the past and save their past selves. Félix is wary of whoever this ‘Argos’ is.)

I love time travel fics. Felix being really wary of the Peacock hero's deliciously ironic, something that Argos realizes and he doesn't. While Adrien's just happy to see his future self and completely trusts what Chat tells him. I loved how Argos was put out when he realized why his past self is afraid of him and trying to reassure him as best he can without giving away spoilers.

---

The Black Cat of the Family by Anonymous

To Felix, Chat Noir is freedom. Pure freedom, unhindered by anything (well, except perhaps a little too much dedication to Ladybug). He goes where he pleases when he pleases. He acts so ridiculous, like no one was ever watching, even when everyone was watching. He chafes at orders and authority, even when the orders are coming from Ladybug herself. He's free to be whoever he wants, in a way Felix only wishes he could be. So of course he starts flirting with the catboy. It also doesn't hurt that the superhero is easy on the eyes. Chat Noir, meanwhile, is simply trying to figure out how to reject his cousin without revealing his own secret identity. But when has anything in his love life ever worked out for him? Or, in other words: Somehow the Fathom-Graham de Vanily-Agreste family becomes even more dysfunctional in brand new ways.

This was fun, I liked the natural way Chat caught Felix's attention with his kindness, wit, and hidden depths. It makes sense why Felix would slowly develop a crush on him, while Chat just thinks that he's having fun with his cousin.

Also Chat's reaction when he realizes that Felix is, in fact, confessing his crush on him, is just priceless XD.

---

Handle With Care by @dragonchris

AU where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. But having a soulmate isn't always beautiful and romantic. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it hurts. Marc and Nath have to learn what that means for them.

This was cute, I loved seeing how Nathaniel and Marc both thought about their soulmate, and how they cope with the aftermath of Reverser in this AU. Helps that Alix is a platonic soulmate of Nathaniel's here (Nathaniel has two soulmates).

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Draining the Tank by @trinketsinthesun

After a hard day of being Paris's most famous fashion designer and supervillain, Gabriel Agreste wants nothing more than a hot bath. But with the hot water tank always empty, he starts to wonder - why is Adrien taking such long showers?

So this fic is rated M, and it's rated that high because Gabriel comes to suspect that Adrien's long showers are due to him masturbating while he's taking them (no masturbation actually takes place in the fic). Then he notices that Adrien's long showers happen to occur most frequently during akuma attacks and draws his own hilariously wrong conclusions XD.

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Marinette's Temporal Daycare by Choppa01

What do you do if your child is in danger and you have access to time travel? If you're Marinette (A.K.A Ladybug) you send them back in time to your younger self. Bunnix goes back in time to do the drop-off, expecting to surprise a younger Marinette. Instead she is the one who ends up being surprised.

I love the "Adrien and Marinette babysit for their future selves" trope, so this fic was a delight to read! It's ramping the trope up to 11, with multiple different Bunnixes dropping off kids from across timelines, and Marinette having long-since figured out a system to make this work for everyone.

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I Want to Remember by @kiraheartilly36

Adrien wants to remember all the times Gabriel tried to be a good dad.

This fic is less than 200 words, you could fit the entire thing in an AO3 summary if you wanted to, but I found it both sad and hilarious. Some dark humor here.

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The Wifi Trap by @jessecosay

Written for the Miraculous Fanworks Anniversary Prompts 2024 for Teleocrater. Alternative universe. Alya is trapped as Lady WiFi, even after being freed by Ladybug. But, at least she has Marinette on her side.

I love fics where people are trapped as their akumatized selves, so this one was right up my alley from the beginning! I love Alya trying to cope with the prejudice people are displaying towards her for being akumatized, and Marinette helping to defend her. Thankfully, while its unfortunate that she's trapped in Lady Wifi's form, she DOES also have access to her akumatized self's powers, which comes in handy...

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Overload by Verse

The power of creation is not by any mean gentle.

This is a Miraculous side effects fic. Marinette's body will create and create and create, overproducing and causing harm to her unless she finds a way to purge the excess. She got lucky that the particular way her body overproduces is relatively simple to handle and can be harnessed for good purposes. Other Ladybug wielders were not so lucky.

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Not the Ghost by Yellow_Soul

She… wasn't alone. Not anymore. Even when they parted ways, she would still have someone to come back to. A person that would look forward to seeing her.

I loved this fic's take on why Reverse!Marinette and Reverse!Sabine apparently have a bad relationship. It makes sense that if Tom died, Sabine may be unable to cope with it and begin lashing out or distancing herself out of stress and grief. Love the idea of Adrien and Marinette commiserating over their similar circumstances as well.

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LOCAL SUPERVILLAIN IS A PEDO?!? by AlexJX

Gabriel stares at the morning news headlines… And walks straight out of the room. “...Father?”

People start noticing that Hawkmoth keeps akumatizing children and reach certain conclusions. It doesn't help that demanding some kids' "Miraculous" or "magic jewels" could be seen as a euphemism.

Ladybug and Chat Noir do nothing to help the situation.

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Fall From Grace by PlasmusDogmatic

fall from grace verb 1. lose favor or a position of power or honor.

So this story explores a scenario where the Miracuteam is gradually put through darker and more brutal scenarios, becoming darker and more brutal to match, until Parisians are about as afraid of them as the actual villains - and also know that it's partially their own fault, since part of the reason the Miracuteam is more hostile and brutal is because Paris started being harsher and more critical towards them as they struggled more. I found this exploration of their descent really interesting, as the team doesn't turn "evil" at any point, per se, they just get placed in worse and worse circumstances and adapt in some damaging ways.

[kyraisdead]

Drunken Tears - Copia X Reader

“You’re fine,” Copia muttered, carefully trying to lead you back to your bedroom. His voice was soft; softer than you’d ever heard that high pitch.

It was one of the things they’d admired about you; usually, you were much quicker, both mentally and physically, than Copia could ever hope to be.That was, until the liquor had gotten switched with the wine at the post-ritual meal. You’d had… how many glasses now? He’d guess at least four, judging by the way you swayed as you walked.”Shh. No, just follow me.” You had your hand against your face, a migraine undoubtedly coming after you, only getting worse as you stumbled and hiccupped. He wasn’t a fan of dealing with drunks, but there was something undeniably charming about the way you giggled as the wave of pain ended, as you mumbled his name and tried to grab onto his hand, which he quickly snatched away. Not his to hold, he told himself.

You weren’t just not his partner. You were Secondo’s; quick, sweet, uncomfortably young compared to the man who was bordering sixty. It was no secret you were unhappy sitting by his older brother, holding onto his arm, silently begging for his attention while he looked at some other Sibling. He wished that he was more confident; more willing to whisk you away and show you how much love you truly deserved, but what could he do?

He winced as you gagged again, leaning over a trash bin and coughing up the pitifully small amount you had left in your stomach. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing it in hopes to soothe you as you cried out from the pain. Where was Secondo, anyway? Probably splayed out in his bed, with or without some new, unsuspecting Sister.

“Oh, cara mia,” he murmured as you stood shakily, leaning against him, your legs too weak to carry yourself anymore. “Where do we go now?” he sighed, wiping the drying saliva from the corner of your mouth. Even when intoxicated and ill, you were more beautiful than anything his mind could ever hope to imagine. How his heart ached for you.

You sniffed, unconsciously grabbing onto the edge of his coat, shoving your head against his chest as you choked out a sob. You’d been drinking more often lately, having never used to drink. It made it all the more concerning for him. Copia let out a shuddering sigh, biting back another pang of envy as he felt your desperate hold on his body. He knew he should’ve said something; stopped you before you had so much that you went from giggly and clingy to puking your guts out, a shadow of the person he knew you to be. “I know,” he mumbled weakly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the bed as he slowly entered your bedchamber. This was not what you needed; drinking yourself into a frenzy until your stomach could no longer hold it in. This wasn’t you.

You glanced around the room; your old bedroom, the one you’d slept in before getting involved with Secondo. You sat down carefully, gripping the covers as you did so.  The room was warm but near-barren, most of your possessions now scattered about his brother’s room. Some items remained, of course; old clothing you kept as a just-in-case, the cheap Ministry-issued sheets and pillows. Enough to sleep somewhat comfortably, or just pass out. "No..." you murmured. "Where's Secondo?"

Copia’s grip on your arm tightened, and he averted his eyes. So he was right, then; either asleep, or off with some other Sibling of Sin he’d gotten drunk and used. “He’s busy,” he replied slowly, sitting down next to you. He didn’t want to say the words out loud; it was hard enough hearing them in his mind, over and over. “You’re stuck with me for tonight, cara,” he added with a sigh.

The room was silent for a moment as you considered. "I... okay," you muttered shakily. He knew you loved him. Secondo had done a wonderful job at making you think he loved you, too, only to steal away all of his affection when you’d already become attached. "I wish he wouldn't," hic, "work so late."

How blind Secondo was. A beautiful, smart, and good Sibling of Sin like you, begging for his attention, and he didn’t even bother to glance in your direction half the time. He didn’t deserve you. Anyone could see that. He didn’t deserve your love, your affection, your everything. You were too good for him; too kind, too caring. Secondo didn’t even think about you; only himself. “He’s… preoccupied,” he sighed, trying to find a word that wouldn’t make you cry again.

You let my head loll to the side, resting on his shoulder. "Mm. I wish he was not busy more," you told him shakily. "I-I know he works hard... but he used to be free more often."

Copia bit back the bitterness in his throat, forcing himself to focus on the drunken, clingy mess that was you. You weren’t his, no matter how much he wished you were. “I know,” he mumbled, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, keeping you close. He kept quiet, knowing the doubt would be clear in his words if he chose to speak them. 

"He loves me!" you tell him. "I know he does. He told me so. I hate when everyone looks at me like he doesn't; you just don't know him," you sniffed, voice shaky, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Copia’s stomach twisted. No, he doesn’t, he wanted to say, but you believed that Second loved you, and he wasn’t strong enough to tell you the truth. So instead, he just let out a quiet sigh, rubbing your shoulders gently. “I know, bella,” he said quietly. “I know he does.” He didn’t, but to tell you that would break your fragile heart into even smaller pieces than Secondo already had. Swallowing thickly, he gently pushed you down onto the bed, caressing your cheek as he pulled the blanket over you. “Just rest.”

[virtualvault]

Skip to Dessert

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Having gotten into an argument with Miguel before dinner, you both find a way to let out your frustration.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, afab reader, mentions of previous argument/ bickering, teasing, flirting with a stranger, flashing a stranger( he sees your underwear, waiter is kind of a perv/creep, exhibitionism(kind of), getting caught in the act, oral (f and m receiving) spanking, begging, dirt talk, rough sex ( let me know if I missed anything)

WC: 3.8K

A/N: Completely stopped writing for over a month. Oops. But I got the inspiration to write again so I decided to finish this Miguel fic that's been sitting half-finished for months. Enjoy!! Also, PSA, don't flash strangers or involve them in your sexual escapades unless you have their consent. Tried to write the waiter character like he was a creep who enjoyed it and this is fiction so no harm done, but please don't do that irl.

The tension in the car is palpable, but not the good kind of tension. Not the kind where lust and desire hang heavy in the air, where you can't bear to be apart even though you're right next to each other. Not the kind where you can't keep your hands off of each other and the temptation to pull over and submit to your desires right then and there feels impossible to resist.

On any other date night, this would be the norm, but tonight, a different tension is felt between you and Miguel. Residual feelings of frustration and annoyance brought on by the argument you two had back at the apartment. The disagreement was petty. Nothing that a little healthy communication couldn't resolve. But the incredibly stressful and tiring day you two had had both of your patience hanging on by a thread, and it was just a matter of time before one of you snapped. This time it just so happened to be you. 

You were both looking forward to finally spending some quality time together, considering both yours and Miguel's schedules are so hectic. But any bit of excitement you had vanished as you walked into your shared bathroom and tripped over the pile of clothes he left in the middle of the floor. You came to find out about this little habit of his when you first moved in together. You had brought it up to him, expressing your annoyance, and asked him to try and be mindful about it. He made a genuine effort to stop, only reverting to his old ways when he was in a rush or had a million things on his mind. Today seemed to be one of those days.

You growled annoyedly, and the second he walks through the bedroom door, you get on him about it. Was it right to take your frustration out on him? No. But you couldn't help it. He clearly wasn't in the best mood either, as he marched after you when you stormed off and started arguing right back. You two spent the next ten minutes bickering and even continued to mumble angrily to yourselves and throw around passive-aggressive comments as you got ready to go to dinner. 

It was a terrible way to start date night, but as you sat side by side in the car and the negative emotions started to dissipate, you both realized how silly it had all been, and you didn't want to let it ruin your night, not knowing the next time you'd be able to go out like this.

Although the irritation you were feeling earlier had subsided, you couldn't resist messing with him. Usually, when you get into petty disagreements, you both end up in bed, letting out your frustrations and subsequently making up by fucking each other silly. But you had reservations that had been made months in advance that you did not want to miss, leaving you with pent-up frustration, so you decide to find other means of letting it out. 

You plan to do that by pushing his buttons in hopes that he'll drag you off somewhere to fuck the attitude right out of you. As you peruse the menu, you begin contemplating different ways you could rile him up until you realize the perfect opportunity to do so is standing at the table, filling your water glass.

Conveniently, the waiter has been flirting with you from the very first moment he walked up to the table, something both you and Miguel picked up on, and it's safe to say your boyfriend is not thrilled about it. Normally, you wouldn't be either, but in this case, it's working to your advantage.

As he fills your glass, he doesn't even look you in the eyes, opting instead to stare directly at your chest. Any other time, you’d tell him off for being a creep, but you see Miguel staring daggers at him, and that makes you want to egg him on further. You notice his reaction out of the corner of your eye, but the waiter doesn't seem to. Now that you think about it, he hasn't acknowledged Miguel once, his gaze only straying from you long enough for him to fill the other glass before he's looking back at you.

You proceed to ask him a question about the menu, all while pushing your tits up on the table and giving him a full view down your blouse. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he's shamelessly ogling your cleavage and, again, neglects to make eye contact with you as he answers your question. You giggle at everything he says, and you can see Miguel roll his eyes as you do so. After chatting with you longer than your boyfriend, or you presume even management, would deem necessary, he quickly jots down your orders and walks away. 

When he's out of earshot, Miguel asks, “What are you doing?”, looking unimpressed and letting you know he’s on to your little game. But you don’t care.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m being polite to our waiter. You should try it,” you answer, feigning ignorance.

He scoffs, “Polite? Yeah. Polite means saying please and thank you, not giving him a good look down your shirt and letting him fuck you with his eyes.”

“I can’t control what he does. It's not my fault he can’t resist sneaking a peek. You do the same thing,” you respond, raising one brow as you see his eyes fall to your chest, proving your point.

His eyes move back up quickly, and he says, "Well, I also fuck you till you can’t walk. You want to let him do that too?” 

His question has your mind conjuring up the memory of just last weekend when he gave it to you so good that you spent the next day recovering in bed. You remember the delicious ache he left you with, and you press your thighs together at the thought. 

“Maybe I should. If he’s capable of picking up after himself, I’d get down on my knees for him right now,” you sass. Knowing he won't let that slide, you wait for his reaction. He slams his hand on the table, not hard enough to draw the attention of the other patrons, but it got yours. 

“I said I'm sorry, ok? I was rushing out of the house this morning and I wasn't thinking. Will you just let it go?” He asks, the frustration clear in his voice. 

You playfully roll your eyes and try not to smile. You’re not upset anymore, and honestly, you weren't to begin with. You were just agitated because you had a particularly hard day at work. You just can’t help but push his buttons. You wouldn't taunt him like this if it wasn't something he does to you all the time. He's even admitted that he likes messing with you, riling you up just to see you wear that cute little annoyed pout on your face. So, you’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“Fine. I shouldn’t be giving him a show. But how about you?” You ask in a sultry tone as you run your foot up his leg and lean forward, giving him the same view you gave the waiter just moments ago. 

He licks his lips at the sight. “Fuck, you look so good in that dress. Too bad I'm going to have to rip it off you,” he says, reaching down to your foot that has made its way to the inside of his thigh, and he softly caresses your ankle.

“You tear it, you die,” you warn. This dress was expensive, and you’d like to wear it more than once. You've lost more clothes than you can count to his lack of patience.

He chuckles. “Ok. Pull it off of you,” he corrects himself.

“I don’t know if I can wait,” you whine and glance over at the bathroom, mentally calculating if you'd have enough time to sneak off without anyone noticing.

“No, not after last time,” he replies, shaking his head and smiling at the memory. You two had been just a little too loud, and as you walked out, you were met with a very concerned hostess who came to make sure everything was alright.

You pout but agree; you’d like to save yourself from that embarrassment again. You decide to give him a view of what he's missing out on and spread your legs and pull up your dress, prompting Miguel to glance under the table. He spots the bright red mesh panties he had recently bought you but has yet to see you wear. 

“Naughty, naughty,” he says, shaking his head, but it takes everything in him to pull his eyes away as the waiter comes back, carrying your food. 

“Here you go.” He sets your plates down, Miguel’s first and then yours, and he smiles down at you, this time hungrily eyeing your lips.

You can see the anger on Miguel's face, and the brattiness bubbles up inside you again. You move your hand and knock your fork under the table, feigning an “oops.” 

“I’ve got it, miss.” Your waiter quickly offers and squats, moving to reach under the table. Legs still spread, he’s met with your clothed mound, and he stops in his tracks, lingering under the table.

Realizing what’s happening, Miguel uses his foot to push your knees together, blocking the waiter's view, and he retreats from under the table. The guy must not sense Miguel's anger, or he simply doesn’t care, because when you thank him for picking it up, he replies, “No problem, beautiful, I'll go get you another one.” He then places his hand on your arm while shooting you a wink. 

Miguel, having had enough of this little display, stands up, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a wad of cash. He proceeds to shove it into the waiter's chest, and the guy almost topples over. 

“Keep the change,” he grumbles and pulls you from your seat, guiding you out of the restaurant with his hand placed firmly on your lower back. 

“Decided to push your luck, huh?” He says as he opens the door to the back seat and pushes you inside. “Big mistake.” 

After shutting the door behind himself, he cages you in against the seat and begins grinding himself against you. Even through the layers of clothing, the friction feels divine, and your breath hitches.

“I can’t keep people from looking,” you try to reason, hoping you haven't genuinely upset Miguel. But judging by the way his hands run up and down your body, grabbing every slope and curve, it seems like you've garnered the reaction you'd been hoping for.

He kisses your neck and chest, moving down your body at a maddeningly slow pace, and continues to speak as he does so. 

“I’m not jealous because I know he wants to get with you. I love when you show your body off and all the looks you get. I get to see people crave so desperately for something they can’t have, for something only I can have.”

You feel your skin warming up, not only under his touch but at his confession. You know deep down he's never genuinely jealous. You've made it abundantly clear that you are his and that he is yours, and nothing and no one would ever come between the two of you. But knowing a part of him gets off on seeing other people staring at you or hitting on you all while knowing they'd never have a chance turns you on even more.

He finally gets down between your legs and slowly starts lifting your dress. He begins kissing and nipping at the newly exposed flesh of your thighs.

“What I didn’t like was the way he disrespected you by acting like a little perv. He’s at work for god's sake, and he has the nerve to be staring down your shirt and touching you. He’s lucky I didn’t reach over and break his wrists,” he says through gritted teeth as the image of the stranger touching you flashes in his mind and rekindles his anger.

The sentiment that he was more upset at the fact that the man was being touchy with you, which did make you uncomfortable and was unprofessional to say the least, was what upset him rather than a territorial thing did warm your heart. But the warmth blooming in your chest quickly relocates to your core as he places kisses across your panty-clad center.

"I'm not thrilled he got a glimpse of these," he comments as he massages you through the fabric. You hum at his touch.

"Maybe he wanted a taste," you tease and angle your hips closer to his face.

"If he tried that, he would’ve come out from under the table without any teeth," he threatens, and you know he isn't kidding.

“And a heel in his eye,” you add, disgusted at the thought of that creep trying anything on you.

He chuckles and slips your underwear off, and you hear a soft hum as he's faced with the sight he's been longing for. He momentarily drags his fingers through your folds, saying, “I can’t say I blame him for wanting a peek, though,” and then he dives in.

His skilled tongue has you cumming on his face quicker than you'd thought possible. As you come down, he's lifting his head, and you see your arousal dripping down his chin. The sight has you grabbing for him, and you pull him up to you. You lick up his chin and then capture his lips in a kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

You take advantage, as he's left a bit dazed by the heated kiss, and push him into a seated position with his back against the door. You hurriedly place yourself between his thighs, mirroring his position between yours. You undo his belt and pull him out. Always impressed with his size, you eye his length hungrily.

“Think he’s as big as you?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and begin stroking him slowly.

 He lets out a dry laugh, then says, “Not a chance.” 

The cocky tone with which he says it and the smirk on his face would make you cringe if it were anybody else, but you know he can back it up.

“He'd leave you disappointed, I know it. You can tell just by the way the little weasel carries himself,” he says, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s right.

Not able to resist any longer, you take him in your mouth. You grab him at the base and start moving your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down his dick while dragging your tongue on the underside of his length.

His head falls back and rests against the window as he gets lost in the feeling, bucking his hips every time you come up and swirl your tongue around his tip. His breathing starts getting ragged, and he gently pulls you off him. He holds you by your hair and brings your mouth to his; the kiss isn't too rough but is still filled with need.

You pull away and quickly shuffle onto all fours, facing the opposite window. He sits back, allowing you to position yourself comfortably, and appreciates the view as your ass sticks in the air. As you sink down onto your elbows, you teasingly wiggle your hips, and he smiles and grabs at the jiggling flesh before giving your ass a quick slap.

He positions himself behind you and begins rubbing his tip through your folds, repeatedly catching on your entrance, but doesn’t enter you like you desperately want him to. You whine, so he begins pushing his thick cock into you, but doesn’t get any further than his tip before he’s pulling out and rubbing his length through your folds once more.

He does this repeatedly, and not being able to take his teasing any longer, you whine, “Give it to me. Or should I go get what’s-his-name to do it for you?“

You suck in a harsh breath as he fully sheaths himself in you in one quick motion, and you feel your walls stretch around him. “Is that what you want?” he asks. 

“Mmhmm,” you reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he begins moving slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. When you begin reaching for him to get him to move faster, he knows you’re ready. He grips your hips and gives you faster, deeper thrusts that pull moans from both of you each time he bottoms out.

You both begin feeling the stress of the day melt away, adding to the mix of pleasure. The fatigue from the long day, and the never-ending problems and drama at work, and even the tension from the argument fade away as the pleasure overtakes both of you.

Your quick, shallow breaths and the way your toes curl let him know you’re getting close, and he reaches underneath you to start toying with your clit. This pushes you over the edge, and Miguel groans as he feels you pulsing around him.

He continues swirling his fingers around your clit to help you ride out your high, and you already feel your next climax building. You feel him begin to slow down and fuck into you at a gentler pace. Needing those deep thrusts back, you find yourself begging him to go faster.

“No, don’t stop! More, please. Please!” You plead as you reach behind you to grab the back of his thigh, urging him on.

He chuckles at the desperate tone in your voice. He pushes you down by your shoulders until your body is flush against the seat and then hikes your right leg up. As he’s shifting you into position, he says, “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. Look at you; you’re insatiable.”

You let out a sigh at the new position, his dick reaching deeper and his tip dragging along that spot inside you that has you squirming. Heeding your request, his pace quickens. His breathing quickens as well, making his impending release evident, and he tries to hold off, wanting to give you one more. 

“He looked like he was about to cum in his pants when he came up from under the table. No way he’d last long enough to give you what you need,” he continues.

“Think you can?” You tease as you look behind you and smirk, all while intentionally squeezing your walls. He lets out a low, throaty moan.

You continue clamping down on him intermittently, and his harsh grip on your hips and the deep furrow in his brow let you know he’s struggling to hold on. So naturally, you decide to tease him further. 

“Oh, I don’t think you can. I guess I’ll just have to get waiter boy to come and finish me off. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.” You feel him place a firm grip on the back of your neck, and he uses the leverage to pull you to him and meet each of his thrusts.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes close at the feeling, but they fly open as you feel a harsh slap against your ass. You moan as he grips your stinging flesh and squeezes it in his hand.

“In. his. fucking. dreams.” He punctuates each word with a deliciously hard thrust. 

He begins rubbing your sensitive nub again, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You barely muster the strength to lift your head as you hear Miguel mutter, “Speak of the devil.”

Confused, you attempt to focus your eyes and you see a shadowy figure rounding the side of the car. Miguel grabs the back of your head and smooshes it against the glass. As the person comes into full view, you see the familiar face of your waiter as he stands in front of the window. The fog that has formed on the glass makes it impossible for him to see anything but your face, but he definitely sees you. You know you should try to hide, but in the moment, you don’t care. It all feels so good, and you’re too cock-drunk to think or act with any reason.

The waiter looks confused, and then you see his face redden as he realizes what’s going on. He stands there for a minute, listening to your muffled moans through the window.

“Tell him who gets to fuck you,” Miguel commands.

You barely hear what he says as you feel the pressure building in your core. You babble out some incoherent response, so he repeats himself.

“Tell him. Tell him who gets to fuck you.” He’s rubbing at your clit even faster now, and you squeal at the almost overwhelming sensation.

“You, Miguel! Only you get to fuck me like this!” You finally answer. You’re not sure if the waiter heard what you said, but the way his eyes widen makes you think he does. Having the creep hear what he wanted him to hear, Miguel leans over and bangs on the glass, effectively startling the guy. He jumps at the sound and when he quickly tears his eyes away from you and shuffles away hurriedly.

As he steps away, you finally let go, and you topple over the edge once again. You shake underneath Miguel as he holds you to him, reaching his release as well. He kisses down the back of our neck before pulling out and flipping you over, so you’re face to face.

“Think he got the message?” Miguel asks, his face flushed as he attempts to catch his breath.

You cradle his face and push his hair back, admiring the view of him hovering above you. You pull his lips yours and kiss him deeply before pulling away to place a few soft kisses on his face, and he does the same to you in return.

“Yeah, I think he heard you loud and clear,” you respond.

"No, I think he heard you loud and clear,” he counters and laughs when you playfully smack his chest. You cover your eyes with your hand and groan as the reality of what you just did sets in.

“Well, I guess we can never come back here,” you say dejectedly as you mentally add this restaurant to the list of places you can no longer go because of you and Miguel’s collective lack of control.

He chuckles, and you pull your hand away and look him in the eyes. “It’s not funny! If we’re not careful, we won’t be able to show our face anywhere in this town,” you say playfully.

“Eh, worth it,” he responds, kissing your forehead.