#and watching him change makes me want to become better
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"Oh, it's better than just a title. You can put my coat of arms on all your branding, and even use an adapted version of my royal seal for any letters you send," he informed him, and although his attempts at convincing Mal were made playfully, maintaining their relationship would become much easier if they could see each other more than just at the weekends. It seemed they both craved each other's company.
He chuckled as he settled back into the cushions, teasingly opening the rest of the buttons on his shirt and slipping his arms free...before throwing the garment across the room towards Mal with a bright smirk. "You're already a masterpiece," he assured him, and another huff of amusement escaped him at the compliments. "Look who's talking, you're far more model material than I am. I think I'll just stick to stamps and coins," he teased. "Besides, if your outfit looks as good in real life as it did in the photos, I don't think anyone will even notice me standing next to you," he assured, and he watched, rather captivated, as Mal started working on his hair.
Downing the last of his glass of champagne, he decided against pouring another one; although he was happy to take risks - like aggressively making out with Mal in the semi-public location of the garden at their first ball, all those months ago - he wanted to be making those choices without alcohol interfering too much. Ensuring Mal enjoyed himself was the main priority. "Oh, I'll get changed in a few minutes. That still gives me enough time to chicken out and change into my normal suit," he grinned, and he slid his phone out of his pocket to snap of photo of the both of them - their faces reflected in the mirror.
“Maybe I will.” Mal hummed, smirking from behind his glass. For all he teased, he had always figured there was some merit to the idea of expanding the reach of his business; the thought of being able to travel to Essetir whenever he pleased to live it up with Cenred in the meantime was simply an added bonus. “I rather like the sound of royal florist.”
Pouting and playfully smacking Cenred’s hand away as he reached across the table to steal a chip, Mal nimbly grabbed one from his boyfriend’s plate as recompense, grinning at his sultry display as he licked the salt from his fingers — apparently they couldn’t even get through dinner without trying to rile each other up. Once he’d had his fill the florist eagerly scooped up his champagne glass and downed some more as he followed Cenred into the bedroom, setting it down on the vanity and then standing before his pile of luggage with his hands on his hips. “Right. One hour to create a masterpiece.” He teased, flashing the other man a smile over his shoulder. “And you better not be trying to distract me over there showing off all that skin — honestly, I swear you were a model in another life. It’s unfair how good you look without even trying.”
Rooting through one of his bags for everything that he’d need for his hair and makeup, then promptly depositing it all over the formerly tidy vanity, Mal plopped himself on to the plush stool before it and set to work, starting with coaxing his hair into soft, effortlessly messy waves with the help of his straightener and a whole array of different products. “Are you just going to sit around until ten minutes before and then get dressed?” He hummed, smirking as he watched the reflection of the other man in the mirror. “It’s alright for some.”
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Obsessive Love

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes fall into a quiet but intense obsession with each other. While your love is sweet, watchful, and clingy beneath a gentle surface, Bucky’s affection turns darker and more possessive. The love you two share was not born out of malice, rather need, devotion, and a love that tightens like a noose. (Yandere Bucky Barnes x Yandere!reader)
Warnings/Disclaimer: Minors DNI. Dark Bucky Barnes. Dark reader. Yandere themes. Implied stalking/watching immensely.
Word Count: 1.9k+
A/N: This was so fun to write. It has a second part to it too. I might post it tomorrow. You are responsible for the media you consume. Let me know if I should add something else to the warnings, tags, or anything else.
Main Masterlist
It was never supposed to happen like this.
You never expected to be in the situation you were in now; curled in the arms of Bucky Barnes, eyes barely open as you lay against him. The warmth of his body acts as a shield from the world. At first, you were just part of the team because it was just a job. Just a mission, something you’d done countless times before, working alongside the Avengers to take down the bad guys. But then came Bucky.
It didn’t happen all at once. It was subtle, like the slow spread of a virus, but by the time you realized what had changed, it was already too late.
The beginning was almost innocent. Almost.
When you first met Bucky Barnes, you had no idea that he would become the center of your world. At first, he was just another soldier, another teammate. A broken man struggling to piece himself back together. But there was something about him that intrigued you, something hidden behind the dark intensity of his gaze that drew you in like a magnet.
You didn’t mean to get so close. You honestly didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did.
Because Bucky was different. He wasn’t like the others. His scars, both physical and mental, made him stand out in a way you couldn’t ignore. He didn’t pretend to be perfect. And you didn’t want him to be. The cracks in him made him… real. He wasn’t like the men from your past who had lied, manipulated, and betrayed. He wore his flaws like armor. And, for you, that was everything.
You started off by offering quiet companionship. A kind word here, a soft smile there. You knew that Bucky wasn’t someone who trusted easily. He had been through too much. So, you didn’t force it. You just… waited. Watched him from afar, letting your presence be a steady, comforting thing in the chaos that surrounded him.
It didn’t take long before Bucky began to notice you. It wasn’t obvious though at first. He would give you a nod here and there, maybe a short, clipped sentence when the mission was over. But it was enough. It was enough to make your heart race every time he glanced in your direction, to make you feel like he saw you. Really saw you.
And then, one day, it happened.
You were on a mission together, as usual, when the two of you got separated from the rest of the team. It was a small thing, just a few minutes of being alone in a quiet corner of a dark building, but it was enough for something to shift. Bucky looked at you in a way he hadn’t before. No longer as a teammate, not as someone to protect or be protected by, but as something else entirely. Something you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your bones.
It was there, in the silence, that you took your first step.
You smiled at him. “Are you okay, Bucky?”
He blinked, but then something softened in his eyes. He looked away briefly, like he was trying to hide his vulnerability. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
But you knew better. You could always tell when someone wasn’t being honest, and Bucky… Bucky was never truly fine. You could see the cracks in his composure. It made you want to protect him. To shield him from whatever haunted him, even if that meant making sure no one else could ever touch him.
It wasn’t malice. It wasn’t some dark desire to hurt others. But it was a need. A need to care for him. To love him in a way that no one else could. To make sure he was only ever yours.
The thought was almost comforting, becoming something you would rely on and remind yourself of often. The world was big, but when you were with Bucky, it felt so small. Just the two of you. No one else mattered.
Your affection grew slowly, like a seed planted in the quiet moments. You would find yourself lingering near him, watching him without his knowledge, memorizing the way his jaw tightened when he was thinking too hard, the way he would instinctively hold things with his normal arm instead of his metal arm and you, being ever so observant, saw the way he flinched when someone made a joke about the metal appendage. You wanted to shield him from those moments. You wanted to be the one he turned to, the one he could rely on, even if you two just sat in silence.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You didn’t need to be loud about your affection. You didn’t need to be overt. You were like a shadow, always there, always watching. Just enough to make sure he never strayed too far from you. To ensure that no one else could have him, not when you were so willing to give him everything. Your love was sweet, soft even. But beneath it was something darker, something that always kept a careful eye on the world around you. You’d smile at others, be polite, make them feel comfortable. But you were always watching. Always waiting.
But you weren’t the only one watching. Bucky noticed you, just as keenly. He wasn’t blind to the way you lingered around him, the way your eyes followed his every move, the way you seemed to keep track of his moods as if you could anticipate them before they even formed.
But it didn’t scare him. No, it intrigued him. Because, as much as Bucky was a soldier with a dark past, he craved that connection. He craved someone who saw him, who understood him without him needing to explain.
Bucky’s obsession was different. It wasn’t that he was unaware of his feelings, but they were more visceral. More possessive. The way he looked at you when someone spoke to you for too long, the way his hand would always drift to your back when others tried to get too close. He was marking his territory. He didn’t just want you. He needed you.
And when he needed something, it wasn’t just for a moment. It was forever.
Therefore, one day when it was late in the night with a mission recently finished and the team dispersed to their own things, you weren’t ready to go back to your room. Not yet.
The hallway was empty, lit only by the dim flickering of old lights above. You hadn’t even noticed Bucky following you, your footsteps echoing softly on the cold concrete floor. It was a rare sight to see someone as observant as you being lost in thought. Your mind was still running through everything: the mission, the battle, the faces of the enemies you’d taken down. It was all so mechanical, so numb.
But then, you finally noticed it. The sound of boots on the floor, slow but deliberate, the familiar thump-thump-thump that you’d come to associate with him.
You didn’t have to turn to know it was him.
“Are you okay?” Bucky’s voice was low, soft, but the underlying tension was palpable. As always, he’d been the one to watch you, the one who noticed when you slipped into yourself, when you started retreating into that space where everything felt too overwhelming.
You didn't respond at first. Your chest tightened and your thoughts were spinning. You desperately wanted to reply, use this moment to talk to him. But you couldn’t, not now. Instead, you kept walking, your shoes tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. You didn’t want to face him. Didn’t want to let him see the cracks forming inside of you. But you knew he wouldn’t let you get away that easily. He never did.
He caught up with you, walking just behind you now, close enough that you were sure he’d run into you if you stopped. The air between you thickened with each step. Then, without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
The sudden contact startled you. You whipped around, meeting his gaze to see those piercing blue eyes, full of questions, full of something more.
Bucky didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching you, his grip on your wrist not letting go, as though he was afraid you might slip away if he loosened it. And maybe he was right.
“You’re not okay,” He said finally, his voice quiet but intense. “I can see it. You’re not okay, and you keep pretending you are.”
You swallowed, your throat tight. You didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to let him in. So you looked away, your eyes drifting toward the floor.
But he didn’t let you turn from him. Instead, his other hand found its way to your cheek, lifting your face up to meet his. His touch was soft, tentative, like he was testing the waters, unsure if you’d pull away.
But you didn’t.
It was that moment. That moment where everything changed.
There was a flicker of something in his gaze: something raw, something darker than you’d ever seen. It made your heart race and made your breath catch in your throat. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, the scent of him, the sound of his heartbeat matching your own. And in that space, it was like time slowed down. Everything faded away, and there was only him. Only Bucky.
And before you could even register what was happening, he closed the distance between you.
His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, like he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. You leaned into him instead, your hands finding his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, frantic. As if you both needed it. Needed the connection and the reassurance that you weren’t alone in this twisted, broken world. His lips pressed harder against yours, and your grip on him tightened, pulling him closer, deeper, until you could feel the thudding of his heart against your chest.
You both stopped thinking. There was no time for reason, no room for hesitation. There was just the moment. The kiss.
When you finally pulled away, your breath was shallow, your face flushed, and your heart raced as though you’d been running for miles. Bucky’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed, and he was breathing just as heavily as you were. His hand cupped your face, gently this time, like he was afraid you might shatter in his hands.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Bucky murmured, his voice rough, as though it hurt to hold back for so long.
You blinked, your pulse still racing. “Me too,” You whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough.
In that moment, everything made sense. All the confusion, the loneliness, the emptiness you’d both been carrying for so long, it was gone. In its place was something else. Something new. Something unspoken. And you realized then, with chilling clarity, that there was no going back.
You didn’t care about the Avengers anymore. You didn’t care about the missions, the enemies, nor the people you were supposed to protect. The only thing that mattered was Bucky. And now, him and you were tangled so deeply that there was no way out. No way back to who you used to be.
And that’s how it happened. Slowly. Quietly. You became his obsession and he became yours.
#yandere bucky barnes#yandere Bucky Barnes x reader#yandere reader#yandere fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#marvel fic#dark fic#dark!bucky x reader#dark reader#dark!bucky barnes
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NEXILIS—PREVIEW WC : 1.1k SYNOPSIS : A preview from the first chapter, coming August 26th.

Look.” You resign yourself, sighing. “I have no interest in leaving home. Truly at all. Who will take care of the farm if I leave? If you really intend to marry me and take me as your wife, make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
“I suppose things like riches and jewels bear no interest you,” The Crown Prince says. You snort.
“No, not particularly.”
Sir Midoriya cuts in. “You would have access to the royal armory. You also have equal access to His Highness' resources. If there is anything you wish to recover or provide it’s yours.”
This piques your interest. Aizawa scoffs from beside you but you ignore him.
A thought comes to you suddenly, overcome with overwhelming grief. You can feel the change in the air, in yourself - your heart feeling heavy. A pit forms in your stomach.
“I have uh,” You clear your throat so you don’t show weakness. “I’ve a brother. A different one. He was my blood brother. He…he was not executed alongside my mother and father. But we did not manage to leave together. I have no idea if he’s even alive, but,” You look at them with clarity. “I want to look for him. Or just get.. Confirmation of his death. Something.”
Midoriya looks at you with an understanding smile. “It’s no trouble. We found you. If there is record of your brother anywhere, we will be able to find him with your help - I’m sure of it.”
“Alright, then.” You pull back a little, scratching your head. “The swordsmanship. I want to be able to test my skills.” You think for a bit, before adding “I also want property that I can keep under my name in the Southern Province.”
“How good of a swordsman are you?” The Crown Prince asks. Aizawa interjects.
“She has bested me before on her own, and without magic.”
The Crown Prince raises his eyebrows at that. “If you wish to wield the sword and fight alongside me, then becoming my imperial knight is may be possible.”
“Is Sir Midoriya not your imperial knight?”
“No, my lady. Captain of Imperial Special Forces means I’m responsible for training them and taking on certain…kinds of missions. The Crown Prince has several rotating guards but finding someone trustworthy to take on the long-term position is tough,”
“We would have to test your skills first, and your duties as my wife take priority,” The Crown Prince says plainly. “But well, it seems to fit your personality better than being a noble lady.”
“You’ve insulted my womanhood twice today alone.”
He raises a brow at you. “I wasn’t aware you could feel insulted about something true.”
You scowl at him, considering the options. “Alright, then. Beats being bored. And it’ll make handle politics easier if I’m able to sit in on meetings directly to some extent.”
The Crown Prince looks surprised again. “I hadn’t considered that.”
You snort. “You come here to ask a strange woman you barely know to be your wife, but did not think of what she would actually have to do in the imperial palace. You must need my allyship more than I thought.”
The Crown Prince bristles at your words but ultimately does not reply back to them. His irritation about being teased is amusing. You laugh for the first time then.
“Don’t be so stiff, Crown Prince. We will be married soon, won’t we?” You joke, laughing to yourself again. “If you can’t handle basic wifely nagging our marriage will sooner fall apart than the empire.”
“Are you implying you are going to nag me?”
“Isn’t that a given?”
Sir Midoriya laughs again and Aizawa makes an exasperated face. “Please watch how you speak to the Crown Prince,”
“Stiff.” You reply back. You take a long breath. “I want to make regular visits back here, as well. And to hire some trained farmhands before then. But if you can fulfill all of my requests, then sure - I’ll help you.”
“That is excellent news, my lady.”
“I must ask though, Crown Prince. What will you do if you find an actual wife?”
He smirks. “That will never happen. I’ve not any interest.”
“Fine then. What will happen if I find an actual husband?”
“Also unlikely,” He starts with, making you twitch. “If you wish to file for divorce it will only be after we’ve stabilized and taken the crown,” He shrugs. “I’ll permit you to see your lover as long as it stays private, though.”
You snort. “How kind of you.”
Aizawa takes a long, resigned sigh next to you. He rubs his jaw, deep in thought before groaning a little. The room feels lighter than it did at the start of the gathering, and that relieves you.
“You’ve made this decision rather quickly.” Aizawa says, ignoring both parties adjacent to you. “Don’t you wish to think about it more?”
“No. When have you known me to do things like that?” You reply. His distress grows. A hand goes onto your shoulder, gripping it firmly.
“You will no doubt suffer greatly. It will be lonely and perilous. There is no reason for you to go.”
You stare at him as he says this, suddenly becoming aware of the way time has passed. You’ve lived alongside him for ten years, and he’s aged, though he is not exactly old. It’s uncommon for him to express such great concern for something you’ve chosen to do. The last time you’ve seen him make this face was when he came upon you ten years ago.
“I wish to find my brother and,” You affirm, and then add despite your embarrassment - lighthearted tone covering sincerity. “Well, I might as well contribute something other then wheat to the empire you seem to love so much,”
Shock flits over his expression before melting into absent fondness.
He sighs, putting a hand on your head and rubbing your head hard. You make a noise of protest. “Troublesome as ever, aren’t you girl.”
“Yes,” You say, rubbing the spot he petted aggressively “You are quite fond of problem children.”
Aizawa laughs for the first time in the entire conversation. The sincerity in his gaze makes your cheeks flush. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“I’m very happy you’ve come to our aid, my lady. I am honored to serve you.” Sir Midoriya says. You look at him from across the table, and he’s positively beaming. A ghost of a smile crosses your features.
“We’ll see how long it takes me to regret it,” You reply, though your words are light. You turn your attention to the Crown Prince. “Your Highness, I must ask - when exactly are you hoping to marry me?"
Silence falls. The Crown Prince and Sir Midoriya share a long look.
“Well, truthfully, my lady -“
“We were hoping you would return with us to the imperial palace. As in, I’d like to wed you as soon as possible.”

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Hello! Could you suggest some shortish fics for a variety of ships? I'm trying to get to know the characters better, so some that focus more on characterization than relationships if possible.
Hey there! We've found a bunch of shorter fics for you -- ten, to be exact. Each fic will have the character or characters it focuses on in small brackets (placed after the title) to make your searching easier. Enjoy!
one day at a time [Everyone in HOO] by KlyssaCarrie
Estelle's people aren't alright. But it doesn't really register until she sees it. *** (basically a lot of microdoses on how traumatised everyone in the riordanverse is)
sea salt in my veins (dive into the mediterranean) [Percy] by Anonymous
What it means to be a child of the sea. "No one ever taught him how to swim. Not that he remembers. The waves in the shores by Montauk and the chlorine water of the pool alike had cradled him with fluid limbs since he was young. Percy does not even know how to drown, though he does not realize the significance of this until he is older."
Find A Way To Say That You Know Me [Will and Nico] by pickingupthepieces
“She would have been 18 today.” “How do you feel?” Nico sighs. --- Nico is opening up to Will more after Tartarus. Thinking about Bianca feels different now that he's older.
come down to the dead sea (suffer with me) [Percy] by Anonymous
Percy Jackson and survivor's guilt (aka what it means to learn death via war). "Death becomes a familiar dance. A repetitive ritual, a haunting rhythm. Where he goes, it follows. Grief whittles him down, till his bones feel like hollow reeds. Cattail swaying in a lake. He feels he will collapse into a swampy pool. He tastes salt and swims in a bog of it and it manages to burn his insides."
year round [Leo and Jason] by planetundersiege
At the last day of summer, they watch almost everyone go back to their families. And it feels strange, not having a family to go back to as well. Neither Jason or Leo had a home to return to.
memento mori [Hazel, Leo, Jason, Frank] by @leovaldezdefender
A series of 4 interviews with 4 different demigods, all asked the same question. "What do you remember of your death?"
Goodbye, My Childhood (Friend) [Luke and Annabeth] by @vicwritesfic
Annabeth Chase grieves and accepts the death of Luke Castellan through a letter, written by him, delivered by Hermes. Grief is fickle, as is all else; subject to change, subject to time.
Innocence Died Screaming [Nico] by @runsonmatcha
The Underworld glowed. The home of the dead was vast and terrifying. But, more importantly, it was a home. Therefore, there were echoes of chatter, there was slang and tradition, spirits bustling back and forth. Oh gosh, it sparkled. Nico wished he’d seen it when he was eleven.
where i'm set alight and i blink in sight of your blinding light [Percy and Annabeth] by rosalba15
Percy wears a cheap blue suit bought from a thrift shop for his wedding, and secretly hates it. It’s not that he’s unhappy, because he really isn’t, it’s just that he hoped for something more. It feels like the worst thing to think, and he mentally slaps himself, but still can’t help it. The kid in him wanted a big party and pretty clothes and good food, and a small part of the boy who just turned eighteen he is now wishes the same. Or: Percy and Annabeth get married, and everything is fine, sort of.
stone-still statues [Sally Jackson] by KlyssaCarrie
Sally has killed a man. She doesn't regret it.
We hope these fics are what you're looking for! Don't forget to leave kudos and a comment, and happy reading!
-Mod 2
#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#archive of our own#percy jackson fanfiction#fanfic rec#pjo#riordanverse#percy jackson#character study#character studies#nico di angelo#will solace#the seven#sally jackson#annabeth chase#leo valdez#percabeth#jason grace#valgrace#hazel levesque
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Veneration
Summary: He had spent years alone, he was quiet, efficient and solitary by nature. He never needed anyone, he was fine. Comfortable in his solitude. And if he ever needed anyone there was his team, watching his six. He never felt like anything was missing until she walked into the room like a breath of fresh air. It was like the world had been dull until then, and he found himself seeking out her light until he wanted her light to be his and his alone and heaven help whoever got in his way.
Trigger Warning ⚠️: Mentions of past abuse, Stalker Behavior, and obsessive tendencies
Word Count: 1068
Ao3 Link
Chapter 3
He's not sure when it changed, but things shifted. Somewhere between shared missions and shared silence, the distance he had once kept, began to vanish. Crow hadn’t moved. He had.
Little by little, like the tide wearing down stone, he inched closer. Now he could hardly breathe properly when she was too far, it was worse when she was out of sight. Her absence pressed into his lungs like a weight, pulling him into the undertow.
It’s time for another mission, another chance to be close and he needs it.
It’s the only time he allows himself to get this close. Close enough to hear her breath hitch, to feel her brush his arm when they passed in a narrow corridor, or marvel in her light when she had a rifle in hand–like she was his personal goddess of war.
He lived for those moments.
Hoarding them like sacred relics, always chasing the next; a brief glance, their hands brushing while passing a mag, her fingers against his gloved hand. They were never enough. But he made them last a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Steady hands. Steady eyes. She was calm in a way that makes his stomach tighten.
He was starving for her.
The team was checking their gear in the hangar. Gear being loaded, helicopter prepped, chatter low. It’s routine–another op, another country, another dead target waiting to happen. The others are talking–Gaz, Soap–light banter to keep the nerves down. But Ghost isn’t looking at the mission board, he’s watching Crow. She moved like she’d been born for the field. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation. Her fingers ran clean checks over her rig, confident and precise. He’d memorized her process. He could recite her loadout better than his own, cataloging her gear and equipment like it were his own, just to make sure she was prepared. Because he needed to know.
It had become a quiet, unrelenting religion.
He knew her schedule. Hadn’t meant to learn it–at first. But then it became a habit. Then a comfort. And then a need. He started showing up early to training–because he knew she would. Started volunteering for ops she was assigned to. He replaced knives before she noticed the hilt was cracked. Kept extra protein bars she liked, in his ruck, just in case.
It was for her safety.
But it tasted like a lie.
He was good at hiding it. Hiding the interest that had turned into need and longing. He’d been doing it for years now. Time didn’t make it easier. In fact, it made it worse. Silent devotion, cloaked in discipline and waning restraint. No one sees it. No one suspects how quickly he would turn for her.
But he sees everything.
She turned to him, catching his eyes, and smiles. Its just the slight uptilt of her lips, but it sinks into his ribs like a knife. Not flirtatious. Not anything intentional. Just human but it makes his breath catch in his throat all the same.
He turns away first.
Fuck.
What are you doing? Smiling at me? You don't even know me. Don’t even know what I’m capable of just to keep you looking my way. To keep you alive.
Ghost was good at being just that. A ghost. It had never been a problem, not until her, not until he felt like a ghost passing through her life. He told himself, it was better this way. To be a ghost in her life, then not be in it at all. But he felt like a ghost trapped in her life–always watching, never in it.
He knew everything, noticing every seemingly insignificant thing, like it was sacred. How Crow breathes and finger drum against her thigh when stressed. How she muttered under her breath when thinking through a problem. Worse how she never complained, but would wince slightly when the pressure changes and that old shrapnel wound aches.
He’d memoried her voice. The rhythm of her boots in the hallway. The soft lilt she used when teasing Soap. The tired sighs when she thought no one was listening.
He needed her like he needed air. And he made sure no one could take her away. Ever.
Of course there were others drawn into her light like a moth to a flame. Who smiled too long. Laughed too hard. Touched her like they had the right. They could never be what he was for her.
And all those men found themselves sidelined. Transferred. Injured. They disappeared.
Not because of him–officially.
But Ghost has always been surgical. Precise. Untraceable. A ghost.
He goes through his gear because he needs to move his hands. He’d already checked it, three times now.
His hands went still, and eyes snapped up to Crow, looking up and across the hangar.
She was laughing.
It stole his breath away. She looked like the sun, glowing, eyes bright and lips pulled back in a smile. It felt like someone had wrapped his chest in barbed wire.
That sound. That laugh. You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.
Her voice–he hears it even when she’s gone. He can only sleep when he knows she is safe, and she’s only safe when she’s close.
At first he had this delusion that he cataloged her habits, wants, needs, history, because it meant he could protect her.
But that was a lie, that he could barely admit to himself.
It’s not enough to protect her.
He wants more.
He’s good at waiting.
But not when she laughs like that. Not when she smiles so easily.
It makes his patience wane as the serpent is his gut slowly eats away at it.
She doesn’t see it. Not yet. Crow still see me as her lieutenant. The ghost. That's fine. She’ll see, eventually. And she’ll understand.
His head tilts slightly as Crow looks his way again. Their eyes meeting. Just for a second.
Maybe she was starting to notice. Maybe she had begun to feel the weight of his stare. And if so, it too late.
He gave her a nod, and she a polite smile.
His chest tightens.
Still smiling. Still mine. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
He rose with the rest of the team. Quiet. Professional. Efficient.
But underneath?
Ghost is already planning. To make that space between them disappear. And to pull her into the undertow with him.
wolfYLady: Here is chapter 3. I love writing his twisting descent into obsession. But his love will be more manipulative than toxic. Making her love him and need him, making her think she fell for him willingly instead of knowing that he had planned it, and she will never know. Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Also, I just posted Chapter 17, Part 1 of Salvation. There is a poll if you like. Chapter 1 of Consecration is also available.
Read on Ao3
🔙Chapter 2 •●• Chapter 4🔜
Master List of Twisted Sin Series🔜
#fanfic#romance#obsessive love#dark romance#call of duty fanfic#cod#fanfiction#call of duty#simon ghost riley#call of duty ghost#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x reader#oc is a placeholder for reader#ghost x oc#Twisted Sins#Veneration
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𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙
your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….
black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot
📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)
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nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.
nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..
from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.
nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.
shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..
“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..
despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.
it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”
nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.
so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.
nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.
nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.
“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.
nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.
“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”
nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.
nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.
“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.
nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.
but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.
“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.
nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.
“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”
nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.
nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.
nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”
nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!
#🧚🏾♀️—faerie tales#armin artlert#armin arlet x reader#attack on titan modern au#attack on titan#attack on titan smut#attack on titan au#armin x black y/n#armin x black reader#armin x reader#armin smut#armin aot#smut headcanons#armin arlet smut#armin arlert#aot smut#snk smut#x black reader#snk armin#armin x y/n#armin x fem reader#black fem reader#aot x black reader#aot x black y/n#aot x reader#aot x y/n#aot x female reader#snk au#smut fanfiction#black reader smut
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“-other than that, wasn’t so bad.” Simon says, readjusting the material of the balaclava across the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His other hand is busy, keeping yours warm as you lead him down sidewalk after sidewalk.
The two of you have just finished having Sunday morning brunch at a local cafe, something you insisted was becoming ‘tradition’ after the second time it happened. And according to you, after finishing eating, (Simon never wanting to hear a word about you paying for a thing) the next part of this lazy morning routine calls for strolling about at a pace that he would normally find pointless, if not downright frustrating. But for you, he slows down.
“Butcher’s an interesting first job.” You reply, nodding along in thought. You picture a younger Simon, fresh out of school, probably fresh faced as well. He was likely as tall, though not yet as muscular as the military would make him. A meat clever in hand, bloody apron around his waist, he was likely still inadvertently intimidating people back then the way he does now. “I was mostly just taking babysitting jobs until I graduated. Liked it well enough.”
“I actually had to babysit a neighbour one time, when I was younger. Actual baby at tha’ too.” He tells you with a chuckle, slightly shaking his head at the memory.
“What?” You laugh as well, the image in your mind now swapping out the meat clever in a teenaged Simon’s grip for a drooling infant. “How did that work out?”
“Neighbour comes bangin’ on our door, she’s carryin’ the thing, it’s screamin’ its bloody little head off,” You roll your eyes at the way Simon refers to the child, swatting his arm playfully but listening on. “She tells me her husband thinks he’s havin’ a fuckin’ heart attack. None o’ the other neighbours are home or answerin’ the door. ‘Fore I know it, she’s passin’ me the kid, askin’ if mum can watch her while she drives him to the hospital. Next thing I know she’s gone and I’m left with the thing.”
“Oh my gosh! Well where was your mum?” You ask, in disbelief that you’ve never heard this story from him before, half wondering if he’s pulling your leg.
“She wasn’t home, I can tell you that! Only me and the new lil’ orphan were.” He utters, strengthening his grip on your hand as you start to hunch over with laughter.
“Okay so wait, you were home alone? Oh no! How long did you have to ‘babysit’ for?” You giggle.
“Well technically Tommy was there but he would’ve only been a hindrance, told him to stay in his room.” Simon adds, pulling his hand out of yours, only to wrap it around your shoulder, now that you’ve come to a standstill at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Fuckin’ nearly 4 hours went by before mum came home and took over. Longest hours o’ my life. I think that might’ve been the day I enlisted actually.”
You elbow his side as you continue to laugh, seeing that he’s teasing you at the end now. You open your mouth to tease him right back, but your eye catches sight of the shop you’ve been standing in front of, jaw dropping wider.
“Simon!” You’re pulling him with a strength he would otherwise be impressed by if he wasn’t so suddenly caught off guard, senses kicking into high alert now as his head swivels in search of the cause of your distress. “How have we never seen this before??”
Oh.
He should’ve known better.
He actually had been avoiding taking you down this street for a little while now, but had been too caught up in his story telling to notice the direction you’d taken in him. His subtle effort of wrapping his arm around you to tilt you away from the storefront obviously hadn’t worked out. He opens his mouth to answer, but can only sigh when you’re already making your way towards the entrance of the pet store.
“We’re only lookin’, right?” He asks loud enough for you to hear as he follows you in.
Wrong.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#readwritealldayallnight#cod fic#cod fanfic
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Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader



I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️
Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR
He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.
But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.
He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.
》JAYCE
He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.
But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.
Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.
》VI
As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.
Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.
You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.
》CAITLYN
Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.
She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.
Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.
》JINX
After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.
And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.
You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.
》SEVIKA
She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.
With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.
Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.
No one is better than her anyway.
#arcane#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane viktor#arcane viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#arcane jayce#arcane jayce x reader#jayce#jayce x reader#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane caitlyn x reader#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane sevika#arcane sevika x reader#sevika#sevika x reader
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Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k
Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs.
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!”
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—”
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks.
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ”
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise.
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles.
That’s good enough for her.
[A Dragon's Constitution] ->
#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#wriothesley genshin#genshin fic#bean fic#fic#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin smut
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You Are In Love: Chapter One
Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical medical descriptions, a dad joke, VERY FLUFFY
Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two
Description: Jack needs the reader to help him with a VIP patient, but she soon learns about his chosen family.
——
Jack Abbot was the reason you wanted to go into emergency medicine. Watching him under pressure was like watching an Olympian in their medal-winning sport. He handled every case with control and diligence, and that lured you into the specialty even more. It only took one medical school rotation with him to know that you wanted to play the game.
So now, in your third month of your internship, you spent nearly every moment with Jack Abbot on the night shift. You rarely had a different attending. The scheduling gods seemed to be in your favor. Of course, you had gotten to know everyone else on staff. You had made friends with the other residents and attendings. Dana had become your favorite charge nurse. Even the social workers were happy to see you walk through the doors.
You arrived an hour early for your night shift, hoping to practice some more suturing in the skills lab before shift change. Just as you were about to escape the doctors lounge and head to the lab, a voice called out behind you.
“Hey, kid, I could use your help.”
You turned to see Jack pulling a pair of gloves off and tossing them in the trash. “Oh, hi.” You replied as you walked toward him. “What are you doing here this early?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, that smug asshole smile on his face. “I could ask you the same.”
You shrugged. “I was gonna go to the skills lab and suture. But not if you need me.”
He nodded and pressed a hand on your back as he lead you to one of the Central rooms. “We have a VIP.” He explained.
He swung the curtain open to reveal a little girl with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. You’d seen those eyes before…
“Uncle Jack!” The five year old exclaimed at the sight of your attending.
It was like magic, the way Jack’s usual stoic demeanor turned into one that would rival a Disney hero. “Hey, princess!” He returned her enthusiasm, a wide grin on his face. He dropped to his knees in front of the child and grabbed her tiny hands in his. “What are you doing here, huh?” He took a quick glance at the mother, who was holding a small blue bundle in her arms.
“I’m hurt.” The child replied, albeit vaguely.
The young woman let out a strained sigh. “We were at the park, and Eliza jumped out of the swing when she saw some older kids do it. Landed on her arm.” She explained.
Jack nodded, giving a don’t-blame-yourself look to her. Then his eyes flicked back to Eliza. “Can I see your arm, please?” He asked, a voice so gentle that it had to have been someone else’s. A moment of hesitation from the child. Then a head-tilt from the silver-haired man. “Uncle Jack is gonna make it all better.” He promised.
That seemed to convince her because she slowly, feebly presented her swollen arm. Jack delicately held the arm in his hands and examined it.
“Bump her up to next in line on X-ray. We’ll get her some IV morphine to help her relax. Could need realignment and screws.” He said to you.
Just as you were about to walk out of the room, you bumped into someone rushing into the room. A mumbled apology was the only thing you heard before a shrill “Daddy!”
You turned to see Michael Robinavitch kneeling to the ground in front of the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart!” He greeted.
Oooh. VIP. This was Robby’s family. The patient was Robby’s daughter. You left while the family reunited to order the X-Ray. When you turned to enter the room again, Dana was leading Robby’s wife, who held a tiny baby, to the cafeteria.
“X-Ray order is in. Next in line.” You announced to the attendings.
Jack gave you a thumbs up. He was sorting out the materials needed for IV morphine. He pulled the butterfly needle out of the packaging, and like clockwork, Eliza began to cry. Robby knelt to meet his daughter’s eyes, the ones that were a perfect mirror of his. “Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me.” He whispered. “We have to get you the medicine so your arm will stop hurting, okay? Just a quick poke.”
Eliza shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “Daddy, please, don’t do it.” She begged. “Don’t hurt me.”
And if you’d never seen a man’s heart break in real time, the look on Robby’s face would be ingrained in your memory forever. His body seemed to go limp at his daughter’s words, unable to insert the needle if he tried. Jack quickly intervened, kneeling next to Robby. “Daddy isn’t gonna hurt you.” He assured the child. “He’s gonna hold you while Uncle Jack gives you the medicine. Does that sound okay?”
Eliza still continued to cry. You remember being her age and having a paralyzing fear of needles. So, you stepped forward to distract from the two pathetic men on the ground. “Hey, baby. I’m gonna show you how it works, okay?” You said.
You grabbed the blue elastic tie from the tray and wrapped it around your forearm. “First, Uncle Jack is gonna wrap this around your arm. It’s gonna give you a big hug for a few minutes!”
You picked up the alcohol swab package and opened it. “Then, he is just going to give your hand a little bath to get it all clean. Like this.” You said, swiping the wipe across the back of your hand. “See? All clean!”
You tossed the wipe and grabbed the J-tip, pressing it on the cleaned part of your hand. “Then, he’s going to give you a stamp that makes your hand tingle. What’s your favorite soda?” You continued.
Eliza followed your every move with an intense curiosity. “Sprite.” She sniffled.
You smiled. “When Uncle Jack gives you the stamp, it’s going to sound like you’re opening a Sprite can. It’s just air.” You explained.
Eliza nodded, rubbing chubby fingers across her wet eyes. You reached for the butterfly needle after placing the J-tip back on the tray. “Last, he’s going to let this little butterfly give you a kiss where the stamp was.” You finished, inserting the needle into one of your own veins. “See? It doesn’t hurt!” You lied through your teeth. It always hurt more to get an IV on the back of your hand, but that was Eliza’s best bet.
You yanked the blue tie off your arm, then removed the butterfly needle. “Think you can let Uncle Jack try now?” You asked.
Eliza didn’t answer, but she didn’t protest either. You smiled, motivated mostly by pride, and looked to your senior attendings. Both men stared back at you. Robby with a look of relief, mostly because you got his daughter to calm down. But Jack…you couldn’t read the look on his face. He broke your gaze to pat Robby on the back, standing up with him.
“Alright, princess, let’s get you that medicine.” He said, grabbing a fresh butterfly needle.
Robby sat on the bed, crossing his legs, and pulled Eliza carefully into his lap. He cradled the little girl in his arms, using his free hand to smooth her dark hair as she whimpered. “Shh…Daddy’s got you.” He soothed.
Eliza melted into her father’s embrace, blinking slowly when he brushed stray tears from her reddened cheeks. Jack tenderly grabbed her uninjured arm and wrapped the blue tie around her forearm still loose. “Alright, Eliza. You’re about to feel that big hug, okay?” He explained, then pulled the blue tie snug.
A small sound of discomfort escaped the child, but she remained docile in her father’s arms. Jack traced the tiny veins on the back of her hand and found his target. When he turned around to reach for an alcohol swab, you already had it ready for him with an outstretched hand. For a brief moment, Jack was caught off guard, but he took the swab from your palm, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin for a beat longer than normal.
“Now, let’s give your hand that cold bath.” He said.
Jack rubbed the wipe across his tiny workspace, and Eliza let out the smallest, softest giggle. Robby smiled, probably for the first time since he stepped foot into the room. “That tickle? Yeah?” He teased. Eliza nodded, just a little bit.
“You ready for that Sprite can sound?” Jack asked, once again reaching, and you already met him halfway with the J-tip.
“Yeah.” Eliza whispered, her face half nuzzled into Robby’s chest, but still enough to keep an eye on Jack’s movements.
Jack placed the J-tip over the vein he wanted, and just like you said, it sounded like a can of Sprite opening, minus the sugary fizz that followed. Eliza jerked her hand pack at the odd sensation of carbon dioxide shooting across her skin. Robby reached his finger under her palm for her to grasp, and she did, just like she always had since she was born.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He said softly.
Jack rubbed the spot on the back of her hand. “Once it starts working, we’re gonna let that butterfly land on it, okay?” He explained.
“And it will give me a kiss?” Eliza asked, looking to you, her source of information.
Jack and Robby both chuckled, and the latter pressed a kiss to her hair. “Yeah, just like that.” He replied.
Eliza giggled, but in her joy, she shifted and moved her broken arm. The laughs quickly turned to screams of pain again, and Jack winced.
“Oh, you gotta be still, princess. We’re almost ready for the medicine.” He said. Then, he leaned in, like he was trying to keep his voice from Robby’s earshot. “You know, if you keep being a brave girl, once you’re all healed up, you can come to my house and go swimming.” His voice was playfully sly.
The cries reduced, just a little. “I can?” She blubbered.
Jack nodded. “Sure. As long as your mommy and daddy say it’s okay.” He replied, glancing up at Robby, hoping he didn’t just make a promise outside of his power.
Robby smiled and nodded. “Of course. You need to show Uncle Jack how you can swim without floaties now.” He said.
Jack’s eyes blew comically wide. “Without floaties? Only big girls can swim without floaties.”
Eliza nodded, her bottom lip still quivering, but a glint of pride was in her eyes. The same one you’d seen in Robby’s eyes many times. “Can Abby come, too?” She asked.
Jack nodded, a smile playing at his lips. “Absolutely. We’ll have a pool party.” He reached back for the butterfly needle, and once again, the brush of your fingers against his. He kept it out of Eliza’s view, continuing to hold her hand. “Your daddy and I will grill some hamburgers and hot dogs. You can teach Abby how to swim. We’ll invite Nana, too.”
Eliza didn’t even flinch when Jack inserted the butterfly needle. You carefully concealed your morphine syringe and connected it to the line. But just as you could see her entire body relax in Robby’s arms from the push of meds, she looked to you with those big brown eyes. “Are you gonna come to the pool party?” She asked.
You froze, unsure of how to answer. Does an invitation from a five-year-old have enough warrant to show up at your boss’ house? Jack placed a hand on your back, lower than he probably meant to. “Yes, she’ll be there, too.” He confirmed for you.
You snapped your head to his direction. Those hazel eyes bore into you, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. In that silence, he winked at you, a smug smile on his face.
“Uncle Jack, she’s pretty.” The little voice broke your small moment.
Your eyes widened, heat crawling up your neck. Robby let out an involuntary sound, a mixture of a laugh and a choke. But Jack never looked away from you. In fact, he doubled down with, “I know.”
Before you could melt away in a puddle of embarrassment and giddiness, the curtain swung open, revealing Dana and Robby’s wife, still cradling a tiny bundle.
“Nana!” Eliza sluggishly squealed.
Dana leaned over and gently tickled Eliza’s shoulders. “There’s my girl!” She exclaimed.
You tilted your head, confused by the connection. “Nana?” You questioned.
Robby chuckled. “Eliza couldn’t say ‘Dana’ when she was little, so she kept calling her Nana.” He explained.
Dana gave you a stern but playful look. “Keep in mind that I am not old enough to be a real Nana.” She stated.
Jack raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “I know plenty of people your age who are grandmothers.” He said.
Dana pointed a finger at him and jabbed his chest. “How would you like to lose another foot?” She threatened.
Your jaw dropped at the comment. That wasn’t allowed, right? Surely, that crossed some kind of line. But Jack just chuckled and swiped her hand away.
“I’d love to. I’ll be one step closer to becoming a robot.” He replied. “Literally.”
Robby’s wife groaned at the unfortunate pun. “Please, stop. I already have to listen to Robby and his dad jokes.” She begged.
Robby grinned proudly. “Yeah, leave it to the professionals.” He teased, but his eyes moved to the bundle his wife was holding. “How’s my little man doing?” He asked.
She smiled and moved to sit on the bed next to Robby and Eliza. “He’s been a sleepy boy all day. Better than testing out his lungs though.” She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder as she spoke. “How’s my big girl?”
Eliza grinned sheepishly when her mom reached to gently pinch her rosy cheeks. “Uncle Jack said we can have a pool party at his house.” She stated, beginning to slur her words in sleepiness. “He said Nana can come. And he said Abby can come.”
Dana chuckled. “Still calling him Abby, huh?” She asked.
Robby smiled, shifting so that Eliza could rest horizontally as she began to doze off. “We’re working on it.” He answered. “Somewhere she learned that nickname. Can’t imagine from who.” He joked.
Jack huffed and moved to where Robby’s wife sat, offering his pinky to the baby boy’s tiny hand, activating his palmar grasp reflex. “Have they been desecrating our name, buddy?” He asked, a lilt in his voice. “Us Abbots are fighters. We don’t take shit from anybody.”
Dana’s swat at Jack’s shoulder for cursing in front of Eliza and his following defense of “She’s asleep!” didn’t distract you from your new piece of information.
“He’s an Abbot?” You questioned, a feeling of warmth in your chest.
Robby’s wife smiled. “Michael Abbot Robinavitch. We stuck with Michael for about a week, but…” She trailed off, looking to her husband.
Robby’s shoulders hunched a bit. “She calls me Michael when I’m in trouble. I got a little scared every time she said his name.” He admitted, but his smile remained. “So we settled on Abbot.”
Jack carefully cradled Abbot as Robby’s wife passed him over. His tanned biceps that strained against the sleeves of his scrub top made the baby look incredibly small. He slowly walked over to you, his right foot stepping heavier as usual, his eyes focused on the baby. A deep smile graced his lips. And just on the edges framing the smile were huge dimples. You wanted to save that image forever. You brushed a finger against the baby’s tiny hand, smiling when he moved in response.
Meanwhile, Robby was elbowed by his wife, who exchanged an excited but knowing glance with Dana at the sight of you and Jack sharing that unintentionally tender moment. All he did was nod in response, eyebrows raised in a silent confirmation.
“Why Abbot? Is Jack that important?” You teased.
Dana threw her hands up in exasperation. “Thank you!” She said. “That’s what I said. I’m still waiting for a little Dana.”
“Working on it.” Robby said with a wink, quickly receiving an elbow in the ribs from his wife.
“Michael!” His wife hissed.
Robby cowered slightly at his birth name. Jack nodded his head towards them. “See? That’s why this is Abbot.” He said.
You giggled and gently ran a hand over the baby’s soft hair near his forehead, afraid to venture too far back towards the fontanelle. “Well, Abbot is very cute.” You complimented.
A simultaneous “Thank you” filled the room. One genuine, from Robby’s wife. The other facetious, from Jack. Laughter filled the room, and you felt oddly a part of a family. Their family.
Perlah entered the room with a pediatric wheelchair. “X-ray is ready for Eliza.” She said, smiling at the sight before her.
Robby stood carefully, holding his daughter snug against his chest. “I’ll go with her. We can walk.” He said and followed Perlah out of the room.
As if it were a snap back to reality, Jack walked back over to Robby’s wife and carefully transferred Abbot back to her arms. “I’m gonna go check on that DUI kid in Central Four.” He said before looking over to you. “Go ahead and get the cast materials ready. She’s gonna want pink.”
Jack left the room, holding onto the ends of his stethoscope as he walked. You found yourself frozen for a moment, processing everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes or so. Someone cleared their throat, and you snapped your head in that direction, embarrassment coursing through your veins.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said, moving to the drawers of the room quickly to grab the liner and plaster.
Robby’s wife looked to Dana with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Dana nodded, intercepting her question in the air.
“So, what do you think of Abbot?” She asked.
You smiled, bringing the supplies back to the tray near the bed. “He looks just like Robby.” You answered.
Dana rolled her eyes. “No, not Dana Jr.” She deadpanned, then nodded her head toward the Pitt. “The Lieutenant Colonel.”
Your hands froze where they were, sorting out the supplies. Slowly you looked up, and you were met with both women staring intently at you. “Oh, Doctor Abbot…” You corrected yourself. “He’s nice.”
“Do you think he’s cute?” Robby’s wife immediately responded.
Dana gave her a look of way-to-blow-our-cover. You let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, yeah. But he’s way older than me. And we work together.” You answered, using your answers to ground yourself as to why your crush was a dead end.
Robby’s wife shrugged. “So? Robby is almost 20 years older than me. And we work together.” She countered.
You tilted your head. “Wait, you work here? In emergency?” You asked.
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been on maternity leave.” She explained.
“Ohhhh.” You drew out, finally connecting the dots.
Dana smiled. “See? So what are your other excuses?” She pried.
You laughed slightly and shrugged. “I guess I don’t know if he’s interested.” You replied.
The two women shared another glance, debating on revealing any other information. “But you are?” Robby’s wife asked.
You smiled slightly, looking down at your hands. “Who wouldn’t be?”
The conversation ended there when Robby reentered the room with a slightly awake Eliza. “Distal radius fracture. No surgery.” He announced.
His wife let out a sigh of relief and smiled when her husband sat next to her again, still cradling the little girl. “That means we can all go home tonight.” She said, pressing her forehead to Robby’s shoulder.
—
After you followed Jack’s careful instruction while shaping the cast on Eliza’s arm, the little girl begged everyone to sign it. By the time she left with her family, there was a “Mommy”, “Daddy”, “Nana”, and your name with a smiley face on the hot pink wrapping. And as soon as you finished writing your name, Jack had snatched the sharpie from your hand, scrawling “Uncle Jack” right next to your signature.
As you watched the Robinavitches leave the Pitt, you found yourself smiling. You wanted that. The devoted parents, the precious children, the caring friends who became family.
You knew Jack was approaching by the uneven foot pattern, but you didn’t turn around. “You think I’m pretty?” You asked.
He stood by your side, brushing his thick shoulder against your frame, looking down at you with a trace of a smile. “I’d be a fool to think otherwise.” He answered honestly.
You looked up to meet his gaze. Those bourbon eyes were intoxicating, but you fought to maintain eye contact. “You’re really great with kids.” You complimented. “Eliza loves you.”
His smile deepened to a sincere one you weren’t used to seeing. “Thank you.”
The stare off continued. “Do you want kids?” You blurted out, and you nearly clamped your hand over your mouth at the word vomit.
Jack tilted his head, smile unfaltering. “If I find the right person to have them with.” He replied, leaning down closer to you just slightly. “Before I turn to dust.”
You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. He laughed with you and crossed his arms, the muscles rippling across his skin. You didn’t notice when he leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear.
“What you did in there with Eliza. Walking her through the process. Got her to stop crying. Good job.” He whispered lowly.
The hair on your neck stood at attention at the praise, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. You tried to brush off the feeling. “Thanks, Doctor Abbot.” You replied.
His face twitched when you called him by his last name, like he forgot you were his intern and not his. “Jack.” He corrected you.
You looked up to him again, taking in another drink of his eyes. There was vulnerability this time. “Jack.” You repeated in a whisper. “I didn’t know you had dimples.”
It was Jack’s turn to get flustered. “What do you mean?” He asked, and you could see the red creeping up his freckled neck.
You gently poked at his cheeks where the divots had appeared earlier. “You have dimples when you smile. It’s really cute.” You teased.
You could see the muscles in his face actively working to hold back a smile. He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t smile.” He answered as seriously as he could.
You wrapped your hands around his bicep and rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.”
And the smile Jack held back flooded onto his face. Dimples and all. He placed a hand over yours and pressed a gentle kiss to your hair. Nobody said another word. You didn’t have to. You could hear it in the silence.
——
A/N: this is probably gonna get a Part 2 featuring the pool party because I can’t help myself. Also this can technically be a Robby x Reader fic because I intentionally didn’t give his wife a name so you can have the best of both worlds here 💙
#the pitt#michael robinavitch#doctor robby#dr robby#jack abbot#noah wyle#the pitt hbo#Shawn hatosy#Jack Abbott#Jack abbot x reader#Jack Abbott x reader
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say you can't sleep, baby, I know
NSFW!Trey x Reader
Synopsis
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”
[wc} - 5,258
[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat
[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!
Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)
Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.
Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:
“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”
Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think.
He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose.
That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible.
Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.
“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”
“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”
Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.
“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”
“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”
Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge.
“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”
Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.
“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap.
Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger.
“No need to be a brat.”
Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.
“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim.
“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”
Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen.
Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day.
Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on.
That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.
It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up.
They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room.
Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine.
Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders.
“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.
He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair.
“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”
He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him.
“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”
You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.
“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”
Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.
To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.
He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.
“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him.
The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.
It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen.
cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!
Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.
luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘
Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together.
He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays.
Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again.
cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉
Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him.
Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.
As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed.
He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.
“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers.
He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.
“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”
Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.
Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern.
“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”
Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present.
“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”
Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings.
Holy shit you were wearing stockings.
“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”
You're trying to rile him up, right?
“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”
He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.
“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”
Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt.
“Happy Birthday Trey~”
It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.
He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake.
But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.
How could he be expected to sleep now?
Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.
Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up.
A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile.
“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”
You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace.
“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”
He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex.
“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”
Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?” “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”
The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages.
“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof.
He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole.
“Trey! Oooh, Trey~”
Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick.
“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”
Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.
“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths.
“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”
So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin.
“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes.
“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”
Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking.
“Haaah—”
Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth.
“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock.
“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”
A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off.
“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft.
“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”
Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”
A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly.
“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”
Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver.
“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”
A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure.
“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”
Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip.
He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it.
Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.
“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.”
Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”
In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole.
“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him.
Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.
Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.
His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock.
Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him.
“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”
“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all.
Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy.
Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him.
Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion.
Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him.
The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”
Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees.
From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play.
Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.
“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips.
“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”
Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries.
Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear.
Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?
Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.
“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”
Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined.
“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”
Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak.
Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time.
Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.
Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms.
Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.
Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy.
“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”
You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss.
“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”
Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did.
“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”
You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.
As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes.
“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on.
“I’m here, I’m here.”
Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest.
Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy.
“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”
A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back.
“I love you too…”
*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*
An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm.
“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses.
“Glasses…glasses…ah..”
Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.
“Mmm, honey?”
Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes.
“Early…”
You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well.
“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”
“…Ugh, I do?”
Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get.
“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.
“Ugggh, yeah…”
Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you.
Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered.
He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.
“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”
Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.
Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses,
Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine.
“Ah! Trey, what is it?”
cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!
“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”
You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”
Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you.
“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”
He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world.
At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you.
comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
#mochi fic#twst#twisted wonderland#trey clover#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#trey clover x reader#twst trey#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#trey clover smut#happy birthday trey#anyways thats my husband and i probably wont get this out of my system for a while
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Tumblr in the 60s
☮ monkeewholock follow
🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈
🐞 homophilespock follow
SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK
🚀 starrfleet follow
They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.
📻 lesbianbobdylan follow
Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass
10,8 t. notes
🌻 flowerpower follow
Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes
🌻 flowerpower follow
...i just woke up, why is my askbox full
🌻 flowerpower follow
WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED
🌻 flowerpower follow
guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed
290,9 t. notes
🎹 nixonsafascist follow
do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard
🎹 nixonsafascist follow
easy website
58,1 t. notes
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you
🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262
Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Oh no I think she couldn't handle that
77 notes
✌ draftdodgerdyke
DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
You should be ashamed of yourself.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
huh??
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Jesus, don't flip your wig
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.
#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft
587 notes
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus
idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post
✝️ jesusrevolution follow
The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.
🚷 to-hell-with-the-beatles follow
How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!
✝️ jesusrevolution follow
Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post
6,008 notes
🛼 donovandyke follow
I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!
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🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287
Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!
🥁 ringoforpresident follow
it literally does tho
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Another win for us hot guys
17,2 t. notes
#how do i TAG THIS#can i just tag this ''funny'' or is that patting myself on the back too much#memes#dashboard meme#dash meme#1960s#my friend tirlittan came up with ''draftdodgerdyke''#i want that fictional blogger carnally#funny#tumblr in the 60s
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jjk men reaction to reader not wanting to stay over for the night
a/n: inspo by this cute tiktok :(((
modern au, no curses au
includes: gojo, geto, toji, nanami, sukuna
Gojo Satoru
You suggested a game night at his place, a reward for both you and him after a particularly busy work week. Tonight was the first time in a while that the two of you had seen each other, which is why it was so special for you to sleep over.
At least that's what Satoru thought until you pranked him by telling him you might go back home.
'I might leave in a bit, baby.'
'What?' Satoru was currently setting up the television, connecting it to the two game controllers.
'I said I might leave in a bit, maybe after fifteen minutes'
Immediately his face falls with his facial expression mirroring a kicked puppy. 'You're leaving? Why? I thought you wanted to sleep over?'
'Maybe not tonight, I'm tired.'
'But you brought your things over?'
'I changed my mind, toru, m'sorry maybe next time.
'But you can sleep in my bed if you're tired.' His voice is soft, paused with the game controller in his hand. His eyes glance over you, warm and tired. It's evident through his eyes that he really wants you to stay.
'But you promised to stay over so we can finally build our house on minecraft.'
'Toruuuu-' your heart melts and suddenly you can't take it anymore. 'I was joking baby, I'm not going anywhere.'
His face lights up, 'you were kidding?!'
You nod as satoru strides towards you, disregarding the two controllers in his hands. Immediately he's on top of you, pushing you down on the couch so you can't escape even if you tried.
Satoru places multiple kisses across your cheek, one right after the other, almost suffocating you. 'Don't ever do that to me again else l'll never let you leave.' he mutters before placing another kiss.
You giggle at satoru relentlessly placing kisses on your neck, 'I wouldn't miss out on building our minecraft house for the world.'
Geto Suguru
The two of you were sat in the kitchen, Suguru standing at the cooker making dinner for the two of you. Finally, the two of you had a clear schedule for the rest of the week to spend time together and what better than to spend a night together?
Sitting at the kitchen island, a video on your social media feed had come up of a girl pranking her boyfriend. It was a cute video and sparked your own curiosity to how your own boyfriend would react.
'Hey sugu, I don't think I'll sleep over tonight if that's okay.'
Suguru snaps his head over to you in disbelief. 'Really? but you brought all your things over?'
'I changed my mind, I'm kinda tired tonight.'
'right.' he mumbles, turning his head back as he prepares your plate.
You could only see his back but you knew that he was dejected. he was disappointed of course but he would respect your decision if you wanted some alone time. not a minute later, he heads your way setting down a plate of your favourite dish in front of you.
He takes a seat next to you with his own plate.
'I'll drive you back if you want.'
you nod, taking a bite of the food. you judge his expression and the way the crease between his brow holds. 'are you upset?'
Suguru is currently looking down at his food, a fork scraping at his place like a child who refuses to eat.
a pause. suguru bites down on his lower lip. 'yes, I wanted you to sleep over tonight. we could watch a movie or do whatever you wanted, it's been months since I've seen you.'
'it's been a few days, sugu'
'same thing princess.'
you let out a sigh, not able to take the scene of seeing your lover become so depressed. 'i'm kidding babe, it was a prank.'
with a smirk, Suguru finally stops poking at his food and takes a bite without restraint. 'I knew it.'
'Liar.'
'I was trying to make you feel bad.' he states, dark bangs falling over his eyes.
'Guess it worked huh?'
'You can bet it did.'
Nanami Kento
a movie played on the television screen, as you and kento snuggled on the couch. a blanket draped over you, laying on his chest and all your favourite snacks out on the coffee table was all you ever wanted.
about midway through the movie you remember that there was a prank you wanted to play on your boyfriend.
'hey ken.'
he hummed, vibrations traveling through your body.
'hey, I might leave in a few.'
'leave for what?' kento looked over at you, sat beside him on the couch.
'to go home.'
'right now? I thought you wanted to stay the night?'
'I did but I'm pretty tired, I'd rather sleep in my own bed i think.'
'oh right...okay.' he mumbles, his eyes are on the screen. he's tempted to pause the movie entirely wondering if there's something that's made you upset.
'are you sad that I'm leaving?' you ask sensing his hesitation.
'no.' kento pauses looking for the right words as he swallows. 'Maybe a little' he admits, 'I wanted to spend time with you.'
'we are spending time right now though?'
'is it selfish to ask for a little more time with you?' he asks, his cheeks flushing pink slightly.
'oh right, I was kidding by the way, I'm not leaving.'
'you and your pranks will kill me will kill me one day, d'you know that?'
you grab a hand that's around your waist and place a kiss on his knuckle as a reward for putting up with you. 'I knowwww, sorry love.'
Toji Fushiguro
'I think I might head home now.' you announce, standing up from the couch after hours of watching shows with toji. empty beer cans and opened bags of popcorn were messily distributed on the coffee table in front of you.
Toji was laid beside you, on the verge of falling asleep as the credits begin to play at the end of an episode. the two of you were binge-watching a show that had come out recently, currently on the last but one episode.
'what was that doll?' he thinks he must have misheard you.
'I said I think I'm going to head home, I'm pretty tired.'
For extra effect you head towards his apartment door, slipping on your shoes and making the move to grab your jacket and keys.
Whether it was at the jingle of your keys or the meaning of your words finally beginning to kick in, Toji was suddenly up and off the couch catching up with you.
'what do you mean home.'
'my home.' you emphasise, putting on your coat. 'my apartment, the one twenty minutes from here.'
in a blink of an eye you felt your wrist enwrapped in his large hand with the other at your waist guiding you backwards until you hit a wall.
Toji leans in, trapping you between his large figure and his wall. as he speaks you notice the scent of beer leave his mouth. his tone is dark and husky yet his eyes glow with emotion at the thought of you leaving.
'Thought you wanted to spend the night with me hmmm? You were the one complaining about not seeing me enough and now it's too much?'
you stammer, your brain completely blank at the tone of his words.
'It's too late to go back by yourself anyways plus we haven't finished the show.' his voice is low, sending vibrations through your body.
'I thought you weren't watching, you fell asleep.'
'almost.'
Toji's hands slowly peel away your coat from your body, 'I can help you change your mind if you're still thinking of leaving.' he suggests and your face heats up at his seduction.
'I was joking, I'm staying. just making sure that you were really awake.' you meet his eyes, allowing them to melt into yours.
without a warning you're suddenly hoisted over his shoulder and toji marches you back to the couch.
'a joke?...right...'
'put me down!'
'funny that you thought I'd ever let you leave anyways.' Toji places you down on the couch and you let out a huff.
you look up at him, your eyes challenging. 'was that a threat?'
'it's a promise doll.'
Sukuna Ryomen
'I think i'm going to leave soon.'
Sukuna's head snaps towards you, his attention directed towards his phone now interrupted by your statement. the two of you were, at least in your words, cuddling in bed. an arm wrapped around you whilst the two of you scrolled on your phones.
'where the fuck are you going?'
'Home. Where d'you think?'
'Why?' Sukuna mutters, caught off guard by your words.
'because I'm tired.'
'sleep in my bed then, you're here for a reason.'
'I want to sleep in my bed.'
'what's the difference? my bed is bigger than yours.'
'I like my bed.'
a pause occurs, the two of you maintaining eye contact.
'so you're going to go allll the way back home because you like your bed.'
'yes kuna'
'what about your shit that you dragged here?'
you shrug 'I'll take it with me.'
'And how are you going to get back?'
'drive me.'
Sukuna lets out a loud laugh.
'Uber then.'
An even louder laugh escapes from his mouth. 'you're not leaving.'
'I am, what are you-'
your words are cut off as Sukuna lunges towards you, suddenly straddling over you. you couldn't move even if you tried.
'kuna! what are you doing?'
'you're not leaving, it's late.'
'but I-'
'and you're not leaving because you asked to stay over in the first place, you'll get what you wanted.'
'it was a prank!' you admit, suddenly giving up to sukuna's demeanor.
'good you're sleeping here anyways.' he deadpans.
'I was always planning-' 'no excuses.'

thank you for reading!!
reblogs and comments are always appreciated.
#angel writes#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader fluff#gojo satoru x reader#angel talks#jjk gojo#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader fluff#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto
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Part 1
Gotham New Rogue 2
It's been a few weeks since Danny started to become the Trickster. To be honest, it is working very well. His core is expanding fast as ectoplasm is regenerating faster than ever before. He is also slowly developing new abilities and gaining more control and powers to his already established abilities.
For instance, Danny used to struggle making clones, but now he can easily create dozens of them with just a thought. He can also change his clothes to whatever he imagines using ectoplasm now. His ice power is also stronger and easier to control. His superhuman body is developing and slowly getting stronger and faster.
Overall, Danny will say that make a smart decision to become a rogue especially since no one has caught him yet. Danny is currently laying on top of a building watching the sun slowly set in the horizon. His stomach suddenly grumbles and he decides to hit the shack before he gets to "work" tonight.
Jumping off the roof, Danny lands and walks to the nearest Batburger while still wearing his rogue suit. He has a totally funny idea today and it involves him being seen in public. Entering the Batburger is like entering a library for some reason. As soon as he enters, everyone goes deathly quiet.
Danny slowly walks towards the cashier and orders his food.
Danny: 5 sets of set C please.
Cashier: Ermm, that will be 60 bucks.
Danny: Here.
After paying for the food, Danny gets his food and sits at one of the tables alone. It's only after he is through his 3rd set that reality is set in for the people. They begin to move and contrary to Danny's expectations, approach him to ask for pictures. Danny allows them some pictures and unknowingly raises his status as Gotham's friendliest rogue.
Suddenly, a white man that screams rich guy, a woman with blonde hair and a black guy wearing Signal's merch approach him. Danny has learned a lot of things from his 14 years of life and 2 years of half life and Danny knows when a rich guy approaches you, it's never good (Sam doesn't have the rich vibe).
Rich guy: Hello Trickster! May we have a meal with you?
Danny: Sure.
Rich guy: Ah, how rude of me. My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. These two are my friends, Stephanie Brown and Duke Thomas. You can call me Tim by the way.
Danny: Sure, Tim.
They sit opposite him with their meals and try to make small talks with him while eating. The trio realize that Danny seems to respond a lot better when Steph or Duke is the one to ask the question.
Steph: So, Trickster. Why don't you like my friend here?
Duke: Way to go in being subtle, Steph. Why not ask who is he really next?
Steph: Hey, I can't help it you know. He seems so snarky whenever Tim asks questions. I wanna know if Tim pissed him off or something.
Danny: He is rich, right?
Duke: Err, yes?
Steph: Let's say he is. Why does that matter?
Danny: I hate rich people. And government. But who doesn't hate the government?
Duke: So, eat the rich?
Danny: Yes.
Steph: Cool cool. We are also here just so we could leech him off anyway. We're not really friends.
Tim: Ow, you hurt me by saying that. What happened to our vow of eternal friendships?
Steph: I cross my fingers.
Duke: I lie.
Danny: Hahahaha. You're like my friends.
Tim: You have friends?
Danny: Of course I have friends. And unlike you I don't need money to have friends.
Tim: Sorry sorry. Are your friends also rouges?
Danny: Wouldn't you like to know? Last I need is Batman investigating my friends. I'm sure Batman is part of you rich people group chat or something.
Steph and Duke: *Snickers*
Tim: *Glares at the two* Why would you think Batman is in contact with the rich people?
Danny: Isn't it obvious? Batman has all these high tech gadgets and is always there fast whenever a Wayne is kidnapped. I would even say Batman is being sponsored by the Wayne.
Danny: I also don't like most heroes in general. They are just the government lapdog doing whatever the government wants.
Tim, Steph and Duke frowned at that statement. From the way Danny speaks, it is clear that he has some history against the government. Him being here also means he is at least confident enough to run away if any of the bats are here. Is it just blind confidence or a truly competent ability will remain to be seen.
Tim is just about to refute him when Danny suddenly stands up. All of them tensed up and ready for battle when Danny turns towards one side of the window, waves and disappears right in front of them. They are very confused and when they turn towards the direction Danny was just looking at, they see Batman and Black Bat right on the rooftop across the building.
Batman and Tim nod to each other and they all return to the caves.
-Batcave-
Tim: So you all hear the conversation right?
Dick: Except at the end where the sound becomes blurred for a moment, we hear everything.
Tim: Good. So what are your thoughts on this?
Damian: It is pretty self explanatory Drake. He has a personal hatred towards the government and that extends to all bodies of government or people he thought is connected to the government.
Tim: But why though? Is the hatred towards the government something as simple because he is a criminal? Or is there something else towards it?
Bruce: There is nothing to find about him currently with our limited resources about him. Return to the manor for today and take some rest. We will investigate it later.
All of them return to the manor and rest for the night.
-2 weeks later-
The Trickster is standing in front of an unconscious and tied up Batman. He is giggling loudly that evolves into full blown laughter.
He takes off Batman's belt and starts to pull out stuff one after another. Soon, he found the item that he needed.
Trickster: Hahahahahahaha. I have finally got it. The strongest weapon in the world!
The batfam that is watching the live broadcast shiver as they watch Trickster holds out the black object high in the sky.
Part 3
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“give me ten minutes and a pillow for his hips”
18+ | MDNI
its not that viktor didn’t want to devour you. take you in the almost impossible positions he’d widen his eyes at reading about when he got bored in the library, attempting to anatomically sketch it out on a napkin to visualize how it would work hastily before anyone came in and caught him flipping through an erotic novel. and he would, through the pain, it would be so worth it— if not for your gentle consideration. the one thing sexier than your dazed face looking up at him, all heated cheeks and hooded eyes, was how perceptive you were— how well you knew him, how well you saw him. you were attuned to him now, an invisible string between you. a phenomenon he could never sit down and wrap his big head around, just how connected the two of you had become that you barely needed words to communicate sometimes. like, for example, an abrupt whine sneakily covered by the clearing of his throat.
you were both excited and apprehensive when he brought up wanting to be on top tonight. you knew he would be putting pressure on his bad leg and of course you brought it up, but the way his voice dipped in velvet and wrapped around you, the lyrical lilt in his accent becoming hushed and deeper as he detailed how he wanted you under him, he wanted to take you, claim you, devour you with no inhibitions. his silver tongue won against your worried left brain, twice technically, until you heard it— the slightest change of rhythm in the strum of your little connective string.
“viktor?” you lifted your head. “what was that?”
he took a deep breath and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “nothing, darling.” he punctuated his assurance was a distracting suckle on your skin. and god, you almost gave in again, almost, but you gently tilted his head up and looked into his darkened eyes. “didn’t sound like nothing.”
damn you and your perceptive skills. he loves them so much.
another deep breath leaves him, and before he could wave it off, you press him. “it’s your leg, isn’t it?” you ask, already knowing the answer, and he can’t lie to you.
“yes.” he breathed in surrender. “i’m sorry, my love i really wanted to-what are you doing?” he frowned, watching you roll out from under him and grab one of the pillows on his bed.
“armchair, now.” you pointed to the chair across the room, with the plush ottoman in front of it that you gifted him. he couldn’t help but let a smirk pull at the corners of his mouth.
“bossy.” yet, he obeyed and made his way over to you. you gave him the pillow, instructing him to put it under his hip as he sat down, making sure his leg was elevated on the ottoman. once you got him all situated, you didn’t even have time to ask if it felt better before he was grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you like a man starved. you melted into his touch, straddling him but careful not to apply too much pressure. “so fucking sweet.” he pants the praise huskily into your mouth. “too good to me.”
his hands traveled down your body to grip your hips, pulling you flush to him. you started grinding slowly, and he guided you, a shaky breath leaving your mouth before you even got to the main event. every noise from your mouth caused a shiver to run down his spine, striking him with irrational need— he didn’t care that the things he wanted to do to you would make him scream in pain, he felt that he would simply die if he couldn’t fuck you the way he pictured it in his head right now.
but then he looks at you, just as dazed and hungry on top of him as you were under him, and a smile creeps up on him. it doesn’t matter if he were to throw you down and ravage you like a love interest in those books, or if you were softly bouncing on his length, burying your little sighs and whimpers into the crook of his neck, he’s still pleasing you. he’s still enough for you. he exhaled a smirk.
“none of that, darling.” he lifted your jaw to meet his eyes. “wanna see you and hear you. can you do that for me?” you nodded, struggling to keep your head up in the throes of pleasure, but having no trouble letting your mouth run wild with curses and praises and whines and whimpers. and it was all music to his ears. “that’s it, sweet girl.” his voice came ragged as he reached his long fingers to press on your clit. you all but screamed, tugging gently on the curls of the nape of his neck. he whined and threw his head back.
“am i hurting you?” you asked hoarsely, your hand hovering over his hair. he shook his head adamantly, taking your hand and tangling it back in his hair himself. each thrust would earn a tug, and each tug would earn a pretty noise from him, causing another push to each of your edges.
“love you….” he whispered against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss against it as you both reached your peaks, breathing heavily against each other. “love you so much.”
#this is an unedited ramble#hope it suffices#i thought of all of this in the shower and typed it out as soon as i got out#my writing#viktor smut#arcane#viktor arcane smut#viktor arcane x reader#viktor x reader#viktor arcane
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☆ Yandere Naruto Men and their Obsession with You ☆
MASTERLIST Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, Obito Uchiha.
Warnings: abusive relationships, control, emotional manipulation, lovebombing, obsessive crazy love, isolation, intense jealousy, violence, almost physical abuse.
His Loving Obsession • Naruto isn’t just obsessed—he’s everywhere. His sunshine demeanour means no one questions it when he’s constantly by your side, always checking in, always making sure you’re okay. But behind the smiles and laughter, there’s something darker—a need so strong it borders on suffocation. Every time you smile at someone else, every time you talk about your plans without him, his stomach twists, and that friendly grin becomes just a little tighter. • Naruto doesn’t just love you—he worships you. He remembers every little thing about you, from your favourite snack to the way you like your coffee. He’ll show up with small surprises—your favorite candy, a new book you mentioned in passing, a blanket because he noticed you shivering the other day. He’s always thinking about you, always looking for ways to make you smile. • Naruto is a master at making you feel guilty without ever outright saying it. If you spend time with someone else, his expression falls just enough to make your chest ache. “Do you really think they care about you the way I do?” There’s no malice in his voice, only a quiet vulnerability that makes your chest ache. He’s not trying to control you (or so it seems)—he just can’t bear the thought of losing you to someone who doesn’t love you as deeply as he does.
• His jealousy is weirdly explosive. If someone flirts with you, his entire demeanour shifts. The laughter stops, his voice drops, and his eyes harden. It's like he's a whole different person. He’s quick to insert himself between you and the “threat,” acting like the person speaking to you is some sort of strange pervert, making it awkward for everyone.
• Naruto’s love becomes all-consuming. His hugs are tight, his hands always on you—your waist, your arm, the small of your back. He needs the reassurance of your presence, needs to feel your warmth under his fingers. His kisses are soft but desperate, like he’s trying to pour all his feelings into every movement, whispering against your lips, “No one can take you from me, Y/N.” You're so bombarded by him that you have no space to ever question it.
His Toxic Obsession
• Shikamaru doesn’t just watch you—he studies you. Every word you say, every nervous habit, every glance you throw at someone else—it’s all meticulously catalogued in his mind. He knows you better than you know yourself, and he uses that knowledge like a weapon. When he speaks to you, it’s with a precision that leaves you reeling and self-doubting, his words cutting straight to the heart of your insecurities and desires. • He isn’t loud or obvious when he cuts people out of your life. He does it quietly, methodically, in ways you don’t notice until it’s too late. Maybe he “accidentally” forgets to tell you about a group hangout or makes plans that conveniently overlap with your commitments to others. Before you realize it, he’s the only constant in your life, the only person you can turn to. “See? It’s just us now. It’s easier this way.” • Shikamaru doesn’t need to raise his voice to control you. His calm, measured tone is enough to make you second-guess everything. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Y/N? I mean, do what you want, but…” His words always trail off, leaving you to fill in the blanks. And when you do change your mind, he’s there with a lazy smirk, like he knew you would all along.
• When Shikamaru finally confesses, it’s not a plea—it’s a statement. “I’ve been patient with you. I’ve let you figure things out on your own, but it’s time you see what’s obvious.” His voice is low, steady, leaving no room for argument, your self-worth is so battered down from everything he's done you actually believe him, actually want to be with him.
• Shikamaru’s love is suffocating, an intricate web of manipulation and control that feels impossible to escape. But beneath the darkness, there’s an unsettling tenderness—a quiet devotion that makes you hesitate. “I only do this because I love you,” he says, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. And in those moments, you wonder if he truly believes it. If maybe, somehow, he’s convinced himself that this twisted, obsessive love is what you need.
His Unrelenting Obsession
• Sasuke’s fixation is nothing short of paralyzing. His eyes follow you everywhere, dark and unblinking, like he’s dissecting you piece by piece. It’s suffocating, the way he can hold you in place with just a look, his intensity seeping into every interaction until it feels like there’s nowhere to hide. He had never been so entranced by someone or something before you. • Sasuke wouldn’t hesitate to dismantle anything—or anyone—that threatens his control. A co-worker who’s too friendly? Suddenly, they’re fired over a baseless rumour. A friend who tries to intervene? They start receiving anonymous threats. It’s never loud or messy; it’s surgical, precise. He’s a ghost in the machine, orchestrating your isolation with a chilling efficiency that leaves you wondering if you’re imagining it when he acts the same as he always does - cool and detached. • Sasuke would make you dependent on him without you even realizing it. He’d insert himself into every aspect of your life—your confidant, your protector, your only constant. When things fall apart (because he made sure they would), he’s the one picking up the pieces, whispering, “You don’t need anyone else. I’ll take care of you.” And in your weakest moments, it feels like the truth. • If you ever try to leave him, Sasuke’s calm exterior would shatter. He wouldn’t yell or beg—he’d act. Your phone? Smashed. Your keys? Gone. Every avenue of escape meticulously closed off until the only person you can turn to is him. His voice would drop to a dangerous whisper: “Everyone has left me. You don't get to do that, Y/N.” And when he says it, it feels like a vow—a terrifying, irreversible truth. • Beneath the darkness, there’s a twisted form of love—a desperate, all-consuming need to keep you safe, to keep you his. Sasuke genuinely believes that what he’s doing is for your own good, that no one else could possibly love you the way he does. And in his mind, it’s not obsession—it’s destiny. You were meant to be his, no matter the cost.
His Devoted Obsession
• Kakashi’s tactics are subtle and insidious, cloaked in warmth and care. He’d insert himself into your life in ways that feel natural, like he’s just a dependable friend who’s always there when you need him, always appearing when things are going dire. But it’s calculated. Every comforting word, every thoughtful gesture, every perfectly timed “coincidence” is part of his plan to weave himself into the fabric of your life. “You looked a little overwhelmed, so I thought I’d step in.” • Kakashi convinces himself that his obsession is rooted in a desire to protect you, that it's normal he would be like this after everything that had happened to him throughout his life. If you’re in danger, he’s the first one there, stepping in with a calm authority that leaves no room for argument. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything for you.” • His charm is his greatest weapon. He knows how to put you at ease, to make you laugh, to make you feel safe. His lazy demeanour and soft-spoken words hide the intensity of his obsession, lulling you into a false sense of security, that he would never do anything to hurt you. When he teases you, his tone is light and playful, but there’s an edge to his smile that makes your pulse quicken.
• Kakashi doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to isolate you—he’s far too smart for that. Instead, he subtly plants doubt in your mind about the people around you. “They didn’t seem very supportive of you earlier, did they?” “Are you sure they have your best interests at heart?” His tone is so soft, so thoughtful and seemingly wise, that you don’t realize he’s slowly nudging you into relying on him alone. • He doesn’t see his actions as manipulative or controlling—they’re protective, necessary. “I can't lose you, not after losing everyone else,” he’ll say, his voice so soft and convincing that you genuinely believe him. But the truth is, Kakashi’s love is a cage, and no matter how warm and comforting it feels, it’s one you’ll never escape.
His Desperate Obsession
• He loves you so desperately, so tenderly, with full unrestrained love. It feels like you were swept off your heels by him and his intensity, the way he knew he wanted you from the beginning and the way you completely crumbled underneath him was almost pathetic. He loves you like no one has before, gifting you thoughtful things he knows you like, listening to everything you say with genuine interest. He protects you, no one bothers you whilst you're with him suddenly - and you don't quite understand. • Itachi carries the ghosts of his clan in every step, every breath, every calculated action. He’s spent his entire life sacrificing, losing everything to protect what he loves. But you? You’re something he can’t sacrifice, something he won’t. He tells himself that this time, he won’t fail, won’t let the people he loves slip through his fingers. This time, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter the cost. • Itachi’s protectiveness goes beyond reason. He’s already failed once, letting his clan fall under his blade for the greater good, and he refuses to fail again. He doesn’t trust the world to keep you safe, so he takes matters into his own hands. The friend who’s too nosy? Gone without a trace. The ex who tries to reach out? Shows up in the news dead. You don’t see the strings he’s pulling, the shadows he’s working in, but the world around you becomes eerily smooth, free of threats. “You’re safe with me,” he’d say, his tone so calm, so certain, that you believe him. • His obsession is fuelled by guilt as much as love. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, not after what he’s done, but that only makes him cling to you harder. You’re his second chance, his proof that he can protect something without destroying it. He doesn’t tell you this—he doesn’t want to burden you with his darkness—but every glance, every touch carries the unspoken weight of his guilt. “You make me feel human again,” he’d admit in a rare moments of vulnerability. • If you ever tried to leave, Itachi wouldn’t react with anger or desperation. His voice would stay calm, his movements controlled, but there would be a finality in his words that makes your stomach twist. one that you know you can't resist because at this point he had made himself the top of the pyramid in your life. “You don’t understand what you’re saying. The world isn’t safe for you without me.” And if you push further, he’d step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’ve already lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I won’t let it happen again. Not with you.”
His Masked Obsession
• When you first meet him, when you're only friends he keeps up the guise of Tobi. Tobi is a harmless goof, all smiles and playful antics. He makes you laugh, brightens your day, and slips into your life so easily it feels natural. But Tobi isn’t real—he’s a shield, a distraction from the storm brewing beneath. Every laugh, every clumsy joke is calculated, a way to draw you closer, to make you trust him. “See? Tobi’s a good boy!” he chirps, his eyes gleaming with something darker than innocence. • As Tobi, he drowns you in affection. He remembers every little thing you like, shows up with thoughtful gifts “just because,” and tells you how much you mean to him at every opportunity. “You’re Tobi’s favourite person! No one else compares!” His voice is light, his tone warm, and it’s easy to feel safe around him. • The switch happens when you least expect it. The moment you cross a line he doesn’t like—talking to someone else for too long, brushing off his affection, or even hinting at distance—the mask shatters. His voice drops and lowers, his posture stiffens, and the playful Tobi disappears. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his tone sharp and cutting. It’s a complete shift, like you’re staring into the eyes of someone you don’t recognize. • Losing Rin shattered Obito, and the thought of losing you pushes him over the edge. Every moment he isn’t with you feels like a threat, every smile you give someone else feels like a betrayal. He projects his pain onto you, his desperation spilling out in violent outbursts followed by trembling apologies. “I can’t lose you,” he growls, his hands fisting in your hair as he pulls you closer. “Not again. Not ever.” • After every outburst, Tobi returns, full of apologies and desperate affection. He showers you with gifts, clings to you like a lost puppy, and whispers tearful apologies. “Tobi’s so sorry! Tobi didn’t mean to scare you!” His voice is trembling, his hands gentle as he cups your face. He tells you how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you, how he’ll do better. • Obito’s love is suffocating, destructive, a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. He doesn’t see his violence as cruelty—it’s protection. He doesn’t see his obsession as wrong—it’s love. “I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you from me,” he says, his voice calm but his eyes wild. “Even you, if I have to.” And in his mind, that’s not a threat—it’s a promise.
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