#but he's still my man even when he's the one wearing a collar
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[Proselfshiptember 4 - Kisses]
Because of his Gas Gas Fruit, Caesar Clown can make kisses infinitely long. He can generate an infinite supply of oxygen while kissing, and it feels amazing. Everything intimate can be enhanced by his devil fruit. His oxygen control ability is perfect, as is his creative use of his ability to turn into gas. Having him unexpectedly fill me up at night while kissing for hours at a time is hot as fuck.
Because of his ability to make me faint from pleasure, I gave him the nickname "cloud 9". And he literally looks like a cloud and is born on the 9th of April. Even hearing the noise of him with his gas power active is enough to bring me to a state of pure bliss, I lose my critical sense and forget all about his evilness.
The fact that there is a man called Caesar Clown who can do infinite kisses, fill all holes, tickle all over me, pump me full of aphrodisiacs while being is a mad scientist is just too amazing to be true. Mad scientists are my favorite type of people, really. I never knew they could be attractive like Caesar. I am totally, utterly addicted to him, he can use me for basically anything he want.
#cw cnc mention#cw dubcon#better safe than sorry#🍬💉#proselfshiptember#antis dni#antis do not interact#proselfshipping#proselfshipper#proselfship#pro selfship#selfship nsft#minors dni#minors do not interact#caesar clown#f/o x s/i#f/o x self insert#f/o#shurororororo#i am very normal about caesar clown#cw D/s#aphrodisiacs#he calls them “love potions”#just caesar being caesar#i just turned a fluff prompt nsft and I hope it's ok#I can't help it when it comes to caesar clown#mostly who he was during punk hazard bc he gets kinda pathetic afterwards#but he's still my man even when he's the one wearing a collar#f/o gush#nsft gushing
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pt.1 pt.2
“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.
he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.
“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.
“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).
“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”
“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.
you nod.
“wanna get outta here?”
he flashes you a charming grin.
“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”
mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.
you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.
“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.
when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.
“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.
sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.
“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.
“where are we exactly?”
“come on.”
he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.
you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.
“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.
“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.
“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”
you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.
“i’m sure he loved it.”
sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.
“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”
you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.
“you’ll remember it.”
“… yeah.”
there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.
before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.
he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.
yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.
pt. 4
#hehehe the long awaited pt 3#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#big brother!sukuna#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff
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Continuation of this
fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou
You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.
"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.
Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.
"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!
"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"
"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.
You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.
"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.
Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.
"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."
"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."
"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.
"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."
You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.
There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.
"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.
"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.
"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.
"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."
You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.
"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."
"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."
He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.
"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.
"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."
#i'm a puddle of mush on the floor#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#moon writes
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persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark
—
it started with fruit.
you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.
he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.
he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.
and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.
a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.
three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.
stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”
and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.
when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.
“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod 141#tornadothoughts#ghost call of duty#simon riley smut#dark!simon riley#persephone#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x f!reader
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Fwb with Katsuki
You were standing in front of the mirror. Final mascara touch-ups, shiny lip gloss. Still only wearing your underwear, undecided about your outfit choice, you suddenly heard a knock on the door. You assumed it was your bestfriend coming to pick you up, you opened the door of your room. But turns out it wasn't her. Katsuki was standing in front of you. Not even bothered by the fact you were half naked in front of him.
Thing is - it definitely wasn't the first time he saw you like this. Definitely not. You and him have been seeing each other in secret for a while now. He would text you when he needed to release some stress. And he would always answer your calls, in the middle of the night when you needed him...
You brought him inside and made him sit on the bed so you could finish getting ready. "What are you doing here?" you asked while applying your favorite lipstick. Dark red. Cherry blood. "I was leaving and I thought I could see my favorite girl before". His comment made you slightly chuckle. Of course he was here for a reason. You had no problem with that. It was a deal. Only sex, no complicated feelings.
Having sex with Katsuki was profitable for you. He was attentive, understanding, open-minded and so fucking sexy. Sex with him was a treat, a blessing.
You put down your lipstick and start walking toward him. Exaggerating every move, swinging your hips and staring at him with big doe eyes. "You also going to the party?" "Yes, Kiri asked me" While you talked you found a place on his lap and slowly started to kiss his neck. Leaving a trail of cherry red kisses on his neck and collar. "You planning on founding a girl uh? Taking her back to your room?" "Yeah probably" You liked that he was honest with you, never hiding anything from you. You knew every one of each others dirty secret. You weren't dating so there was nothing wrong with him sleeping with other girls right ? So why were you feeling this pinch in your stomach ...?
He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Definitely not a soft one. It was rough and passionate like it always was. It was messy and rushed. The expensive Cologne he wore, that you loved so much, filled your lungs and you couldn't resist him anymore. Pushing him on the bed, towering him you start to straddle his lap. "You're gonna find a nice girl uh ? Gonna kiss her on the same bed you fuck me every night ?" "Hmph fuck yes" He stares intensely at your swollen lips, the feeling of your ass rubbing on him driving him insane. He can't help but look at you with admiring eyes. "But I'll always be your favorite right baby? ""Yes my favorite girl"
You knew this was wrong. You knew friends with benefits don't act like this. But you were so obsessed with this man. You were ready to take everything he was giving you. Even if, for the moment, it was just sex.
Hiii it's been so long since i posted smth oopsie but ig we can say im back now. Hope you enjoyed this short fic ^^
#mha#bnha#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha smut#mha bakugou#mha smut#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader
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Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]
You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.
CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.
FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3
— Why your wife left you, again?
You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad.
You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good.
— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi?
He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous.
He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there.
— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know.
— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger.
— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage.
— You’re too young to stop believing in it.
— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir.
— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him.
— Could you two please stop fucking each other?
— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.
— This is my house too!
— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space.
König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement.
— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time.
Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge.
König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention.
If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention.
His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something.
— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son.
He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing.
König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .
He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends.
But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…
— He left. Won’t bother us anymore.
— I’m not in the mood right now.
— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul.
— He takes on after his father, ja?
It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other.
König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did.
You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts.
— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.
— I assume after…af..ter your wife.
You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you.
— I’m not dumb!
— Nein, you’re not. Just silly.
— You just call me a different type of dumb.
— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter.
König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this.
He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street.
— I want to take you to the Summer house next week.
You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir?
It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him.
He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good.
— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer.
— I wanted to study.
You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house.
— You mean you and your ex’s house.
He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again.
You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again.
— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying.
— I want a nice job. Without…distractions.
He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s.
— Why you need a job?
— Not everyone are retired military. I need money.
— You have me.
— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir.
— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.
König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost.
You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone.
König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later.
Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?
Maybe, you do know why his wife left him.
#cod#konig x reader#konig#yandere konig#cod x reader#call of duty#yandere cod#cod x you#fem reader#konig cod#konig x you
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false god
spencer reid x fem!reader (18+)
religion's in your lips. even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love. inspired by false god by taylor swift. it is recommended you listen while you read, but not required
word count: 2.0k
warnings: sooo very 18+, where to begin heated makeout, soft and rough, switch!spence, switch!reader, smut, p-in-v, unprotected sex (don't do that), oral (fem rec), body worshipping, sort of porn without a plot, no use of y/n, very light choking, implied season nine-ish spencer, light hair tugging, multiple orgasms, praise, plot after porn, aftercare, fluff
Spencer thought you looked absolutely darling all dressed up for him. He loved when you did that. Anytime he took you out, you always dressed up to match the occasion.
Tonight was no different. Your little red slip dress and heels made you look like a pure angel sent down from heaven to grace him. He felt lucky to even breathe the same air as you, let alone date you.
The moment you'd arrived back to his apartment, his lips attached to yours eagerly. You shared the action, making sure to run your hands all over the top part of his body. His neck, chest, shoulders.
"You're the most transcendent, ethereal woman I've ever met." Spencer mumbled over your lips, the feeling of them ghosting over yours as he spoke sending shivers down your spine.
Your soft giggle in reply made Spencer feel like his legs turned into jelly. "You already won me over long ago, love. There's no need to try and win me over."
"I always want to win your heart, over and over again." Spencer replied, his touch ghosting over your cheek as he softly traced your skin. "I'm too lucky to not remind you every day that I'm so fucking grateful you choose me. You're too amazing to not be reminded of how gorgeous you are." Lips reattached as Spencer's hand began to ghost touches down your spine, causing you to arch into him. "I'm not a religious man in any sense, but I'd let you lead me with blind faith."
"Spencer," you groaned. "I need you."
Spencer pushed you against the wall, a soft thud from your body, but his hand was behind your head to protect it from any harm. "You're gonna get me, pretty girl. Let me have my time with you."
You felt encaged by his arms, leaving you nowhere to go even if you wanted to leave, which you didn't. Spencer’s lips trailed down your jaw, soft scratches from his teeth were soothed over by his tongue as you grasped for the back of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer to your body. His lips traveled to the low cut of your dress as he took his time observing you.
“This dress is beautiful,” Spencer remarked, “but it needs to come off.” Grabbing your hand, he lead you to the bedroom. His hands now at your hips, he sat you down and slowly knelt to the floor. With gentle hands, he began to take off your heels for you, kissing your legs as he worked. The action made your heart sing and your cunt ache.
“Such a gentleman,” You softly teased, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt lightly and pulling him back up to you. “Have I told you how much I like your shorter hair?”
Spencer gave a soft smile, “Seven times, this one being the eighth.”
“Well, I mean it every single time.” you replied.
“I know,” Spencer kicked off his shoes as you situated yourself back against the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Now, what was I about to do?”
Spencer’s teasing made you slightly frustrated, although you loved it too much to make him stop. “Take off my dress,” You half pleaded, half answered.
“That’s right, thank you, baby.” Spencer reached behind you to drag the zipper down your body. Once done, his fingers slowly made their way to the small straps, pulling them off your shoulders. The dress sagged, the top falling below your breasts. Spencer was urgent with his next movements, kissing greedily around your chest as you gripped his hair. “Oh, god, baby.” Spencer groaned. He loved it when you pulled his hair.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” You commented, tugging on his tie. Spencer nearly ripped his dress shirt, jacket, and tie off, along with his belt. “Thats better,” you smiled.
After another sweet kiss, Spencer began his previous actions, and slowly began to drag the dress off your body. You reached down to unbutton his pants, and he pushed them over his hips and kicked them off. You nearly made a joke about how you both matched finally, but Spencer was too eager to taste you.
Panties pulled down to your ankles, Spencer began kissing your thighs. “You’re so pretty. Every part of you, you’re so pretty.” He mumbled praises as he kissed you. “Love your body, love you.”
“Spence,” You whined, slowly raising your hips in desperation.
“I know, baby. I know, I got you.” Spencer assured. “Jus’ too pretty.”
After another minute of praises from the man, he pressed a hot kiss on your core. Slowly, his tongue dragged its way from your opening to your clit. A breathy, messy moan spilled from your lips, teetering Spencer’s last bit of self-control. He sucked on your clit, lapping around it with kitten licks like a madman. Your back arched as he grabbed your ankles, pushing them to his back to wrap you around him. “Oh, baby, oh,” you moaned.
“Taste so good,” Spencer praised as he inserted a finger into you, steadily pumping it. “You’re divine, angel. Absolutely divine.”
“More, please baby,” You called out, Spencer obliging to your need. He added a second finger, beginning to curl them right where you needed them the most. “Oh! Spencer!”
Spencer looked up at your with hazy eyes, “There, baby? Right there?”
“Fuck, right there!” You nodded, one hand grabbing the bed cover and the other tangling in Spencer’s free hand.
For Spencer, you looked like a creature straight from stories he’d read, or like some perfect girl made just for him. He loved the way your body reacted to him, how it felt like you were the only girl for him.
Spencer leaned down once more, lapping at your clit. “Oh, please don’t stop, please, please,” The begs tumbled from your lips, even if you knew Spencer wouldn’t stop. “‘S so good, so good,”
“Are you gonna come, baby?” Spencer asked, feeling your cunt tighten around his fingers. Hearing your reply, Spencer looked up to you. “Let go, sweet girl. Come for me,”
With one last harsh suck to your clit and a deep curl on his fingers, your orgasm hit you as Spencer watched, loving the way your face morphed from pleasure. He helped you ride it out, coaxing you back into reality.
“Good girl, so, so good for me.” Spencer leaned up to kiss you, softly smoothing down your hair as he did so.
“Spence, I wanna ride you.” Your words were words of begging, but your tone was firm. Spencer nodded quickly, wetting his lips with his tongue as you both traded places. While he moved, he slipped his boxers off. “Ready?” You asked.
“Please,” Spencer replied, intertwining a hand with yours as you readied his cock. Slowly, you sunk down onto it, moans spilling from both of your lips.
You let go of Spencer’s hand to place both of your palms on his stomach, lifting your hips just halfway off, and then back down at a tantalizing pace. “You feel so good,” you moaned. “Oh, I love you.”
“I love you t- oh!” Spencer moaned as you changed pace, slamming yourself down a little bit harder than before. “Shit, baby,” Spencer babbled, “y-you, oh, god. So warm, so good.” Your pace was now hard, lifting yourself almost off and then all the way back down. Spencer was an absolute mess of a man, his words coming out as babbles and incoherent, unstrung thoughts. “Kiss, wanna kiss you!” Spencer called out.
He sat up and you pushed your lips against his as his hands toyed with your breasts once more. “You’re so deep,” You moaned as Spencer pulled back quickly.
“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He managed to say as you felt his cock twitch inside you. “God, I’m coming!” His load was hot and nearly brought you to another orgasm as well. Spencer let his head fall on your shoulder as he pressed gentle kisses there. “Lemme give you another one, please?” He asked, softly leaving a bite on your shoulder.
“Yes, yes please.” You replied.
Once again, you both were flipped. Spencer carefully inserted the head of his cock, leaving your hips rolling. His plan wasn’t to just fuck you, no, he had one more thing to do before he could properly fuck you. He grabbed one of the pillows and lifted your hips, placing them strategically under. Finally, he pushed in, the angle allowing him to hit deeper places. You cried out from pleasure as he began slamming into you at a brutal place.
“Baby, ‘s too much!” You cried.
“You got it, it’s okay,” Spencer grunted, unrelenting with his pace. “You can take it, come on.”
For a moment, you thought you could take it, until his fingers found your clit again. It was still so sensitive from your last orgasm, making you explode in pleasure. It made you feel hot, even more turned on, and so extremely eager to come.
Spencer quickly grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as his pace. “Good girl, taking me so well. So good, honey.” Spencer praised.
After another minute of this, you genuinely were unable to form words. Moans spilled from your lips, along with broken vowels your brain was trying to form into words and sentences.
This was Spencer’s favorite thing to do. He made such soft love to you, but he loved to watch you go brain dead from his cock. He loved the way you drifted away because of him. Not for the power, no, but because he was the only one who could make you feel this good, and you both knew it.
Your words failed you as you tried to communicate that you were approaching your orgasm again. You gave a tight squeeze to Spencer’s hand, and he knew exactly what you were telling him.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more, just one more. Show me how good I make you feel.” Spencer urged as you felt yourself release for the second time of the night.
It was like you’d transcended to a whole new existence, only being brought back when you felt Spencer’s lips press small kisses to your cheek. You opened your eyes, immediately locking them with his.
“There’s my sweet girl,” Spencer lazily stroked circles on your cheek with a smile. “You okay?”
“Perfect,” you confirmed. “You’re so perfect.”
Spencer lightly laughed an exhausted, airy laugh. “Is now a good time to ask you if you wanted to move in with me?”
You smiled, “Ask me.”
“Please move in with me?” Spencer asked.
“How could I ever say no to you?” You answered as Spencer kissed you gently. “But we are not doing that now.”
Looking at the clock, Spencer sat you against the headboard. “You stay here, I’ll bring you some clothes and a makeup wipe. You just rest, love.” Spencer pressed a kiss to your head as you squeezes his hand, letting him retrieve your items.
Once he came back, already him his pajamas, he helped you change into yours which were just his clothes. As you removed your makeup, be carefully brushed through your hair to remove any and all tangles from your passionate sex.
You laid next to him in your newly-shared bed. The warm light from his nightstand illuminated both your faces perfect as you trailed a finger over his face with a feather light touch. Spencer just closed his eyes and sighed, sinking into your touch.
“I love you,” you said.
“I love you so much,” he replied.
The light clicked off, and together, you drifted to sleep, knowing you both were the luckiest people in the world.
#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid smut#bau team#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n
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Slashers with a sleepwalking s/o
AN: totally based off my personal experiences sleepwalking lol asked my friends and family what their favorite sleepwalking episode was.
Jason Voorhees 🏕
Jason is already paranoid AF about you unknowingly wandering into a trap during the day.
But the first time he comes across you in the woods at night? When you should be asleep?
He is not a happy man. Many thoughts run through his mind. Are you trying to leave him? Trying to get yourself hurt? Would you rather die then be with him?
It takes him a good while and a lot of explaining for him to understand what's happening. That your not intentionally doing this. Science shit™️
He sets up a system. Maybe a bell or two. Something loud to let him know where you are. Maybe some trip wires.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: He watched you eat a entire sleeve of saltines while standing in the shower.
Michael Myers 🎃
Michael's seen some shit. So this is nothing. All those years in Smiths Grove have prepared him for this. So you sleepwalk? Cool, his neighbor at Smiths Grove used to eat cockroachs.
That being said, the closer you're relationship grows, the more worried he becomes. What if you fall down the stairs? What if you wander into the road? What if, what if, what if??
He doesn't have the foresight to set up traps, like Jason does.
Uses his fucked up sleep schedule to his advantage and often stands over your sleeping body. Jumpscare.
Will definitely tie a bell on you while you sleep. Totally not a collar what are you saying? Don't make it kinky.
The strangest thing he's seen you do: Put all of the remotes in the refrigerator because they needed batteries.
Thomas Hewitt 🥩
Poor sweet man. You're going to give him a heart attack one of these days.
However, he's probably one of the more better prepared of the lot. His house is set up to keep people in and out. So there isn't much danger you can get into.
Unless he forgets to lock up the basement. Which has happened once. And only once. You were fairly unharmed if not a little traumatized.
Has taken to locking your bedroom door. Also installs like 10 latches. AND puts a bell on the doorknob. And maybe sometimes you.
Look, he's already scared of losing you to somebody else, he doesn't want to have to worry him losing you to you.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: Him, Monty and Hoyt sat and watched you stand in front of the sink for a hour and a half. Just standing there. Menacingly
Brahms Heelshire 🐀
Oh, poor baby is confused. Especially at the start of your situation-ship. You don't know he's there, you just think you're babysitting a doll for a sad old couple. Not their grown ass son who lives in the walls.
The first time Brahms finds you sleepwalking, he's pissed. You trying to leave him, he knows you are. But... did you just snore?? Wait, you're asleep. He feels a little better about the situation.
Until you start walking towards the stairs. Boy's never moved so fast in his life. He knows if he wakes you up it's game over. So he gives you a gentle nudge back to your room.
Now after you find about the rat man in the walls, things are different. Brahms, even in the deepest REM cycle, will never let you go. Man is a koala and you are the tree he's clinging to for dear life. It's almost impossible to escape his arms at night.
Almost makes you sleep in the walls instead of the bedroom so you're safer. Like ain't no way you're getting out of those without him waking up.
Strangest thing he's seen you do: Sat up in bed, complaining about the maracas in your mouth??? He cried.
Billy Lenz 🎄
World's worst caretaker 👑
Especially before yall start dating because, at that point in time, he's still trying to decide if he wants to kill you. He won't lie, he very briefly thought about pushing you down the stairs.
But? After you win him over? Yeah still kinda sucks ass at keeping you from hurting yourself. He'll keep you alive, mind you, just a little worse for wear.
He asked you once if he could tie you down in bed. You didn't like the look in his eyes so you declined. Billy pouted for the next three days.
TBH he might do it anyways. Look he's just trying to keep your silly little self safe, S/O. Get your mind out of the gutter. Haha, jk...unless 😏?
The strangest thing he's seen you do is eat a entire bag of gummy bears while standing outside. He joined you.
Vincent Sinclair 🖌
Another prepared king 👑
His workshop is dangerous. Upstairs is dangerous. The whole town is health code violation. And bby cannot stand the idea of you hurting yourself.
But other then the constant anxiety that you'll some how end up falling off the stairs or falling into the wax or the any other number of things his brain comes up with, he's very level-headed.
Child safety locks. He buys that shit in bulk.
But hey, gives him a excuse to hold you at night. (Vincent, they're literally your s/o)
The strangest thing he's seen you do is stand over Bo's bed, chanting tomato. Bo almost cried.
Bo Sinclair 🔧
Definition of "Look at that idiot...oh wait that's my idiot!"
Honestly, probably the worst. Not like 'let's you just walk around' worst, but more like 'Imma gonna chain you to the bed' worst.
Dude's so scared of losing you, pretty much the best thing that ever happened to him, that his willing to go to drastic matters to keep you safe.
Don't try to explain the science behind it, you'll only give him a migraine. Just let him keep you safe. K, bby?
Bo's gonna lose sleep some nights, he's that scared. No doubt you will wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. Just comfort him, ok?
Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit up in bed and start singing 'Livin La Vida Loca'
Asa Emory 🪲
Number one prepared king™️
I'm not saying he may or may not, kinda sorta perhaps placed cameras around your living situation before you two even began dating. But yeah he did.
So he knows all about the crazy shenanigans you are up to at night.
He reads the books, watching online lectures 👏all👏the👏research. You can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly how to wake you up in case of emergency.
In the same breath, despite how much he does love you, science. Prepare to be studied like a bug under a microscope.
Strangest thing he's seen you do is standing with the refrigerator doors open, telling him how much you love this show.
Norman Bates 🚿
My poor sweet innocent murder bby. He doesn't know what to do.
Yeah, keep you safe, he's got that much down. But at what cost?
The hotel looks like a a daycare center now. Baby proofing everywhere (ask him about getting locked out of the bathroom, it's funny)
Suggested a collar once as a joke, wasn't expecting you to agree. Got flustered. Dropped his cup, maybe got a bone.
Another koala sleeper, so good luck escaping his embrace. Will go as far as following you to the bathroom to make sure you're actually awake.
Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit down in a fake potted plant in the living room and talk about dinosaurs.
#Michael Myers x reader#Jason Voorhees x reader#Thomas Hewitt x reader#Brahms Heelshire x reader#Billy Lenz x reader#Vincent Sinclair x reader#Bo Sinclair x reader#Asa Emory x reader#Slasher x reader#norman bates x reader
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagines#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts au#bts imagines#bts fanfics#bts x reader#fic:guiltypleasures#kookslastbutton
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His Shirt [Nanami Kento]
an: this was a previous drabble I had for our beloved Kento but it needed a good tidy up and polish. For all those that love to wear their lover’s shirts…
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: smutty smut, desk antics, pussy drunk Kento, fun manhandling (teehee)
Masterlist
The hour was late. The sky was midnight black, a dark canvas painted only by the stars peppered across the skyline. It wasn’t unusual for Kento to work late into the evening, but you couldn’t recall the last time it had been quite this late. How were you expected to fall asleep without his arm draped over your waist, his breath warming your neck, and his legs bent and flush behind yours?
After another fifteen minutes, you gave up your attempts of sleeping alone, and decided that if he wasn’t ready to come to bed on his own terms, you’d had to provide an incentive. Pulling a worn shirt from the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom, your nose pressed into the starchy collar to inhale the remnants of his cologne, the faint aroma of coffee and his unique underlying scent—warmingly spicy and comforting. This would do nicely…
You tiptoed to the door of his office, giving a light knock. Not waiting for an invitation, you slipped inside and searched for the man hidden away in here—your man.
Kento sat behind his polished oak desk, a stack of papers to the side of his glowing laptop and a half-empty mug of coffee, that you would bet was stone cold, just out of reach. You admired the continued neat state of his parted hair, not a single strand out of place even after a long day. His shirt sleeves were folded back to his elbows and the tie was gone, but he still looked the picture of professionalism.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” He drawled tiredly, not looking up from his work as you padded ever closer.
“No,” you whimpered theatrically, barely stopping yourself from adding a hand against your forehead.
His head snapped up immediately, rich hazel eyes widening as he took in the sight of you at last. A broad palm pressed the screen he’d been glaring at closed with a quiet snap, and you smirked behind your hand.
“Missed you… couldn’t sleep. Not without you, Ken.”
At last, an errant strand of blond hair fell into his eyes. Eyes that focused fixedly on how your fingers traced the bevelled edge of his desk. His throat felt suddenly dry, aroused immediately at you wrapped in one of his worn shirts. Kento noted that the buttons were only half done up, the crisp fabric bagging on your torso in places and exposing just enough of your skin to have him reaching for you.
Satisfied by his reaction, you happily stepped into his embrace, and let Kento settle you on the desk in front of him. Two large palms slid against your naked thighs, rough callouses pressing into your soft, smooth skin.
“Sweetheart, I had work to do,” he groaned out, leaning into your touch when your fingers carded into his lush hair.
“But…” he started, pulling your thighs wider apart and resting your feet on either side of his chair. “I could use a break and you happen to look especially inviting in my shirt.”
In this new position, your bare pussy was exposed to his hungry gaze. He untangled your fingers from his hair and guided both hands behind you to brace against the surface of his desk, pushing aside his stacks of work with his elbow in the process.
Kento fisted the tails of his shirt and dragged the material through your slippery folds. The friction was delicious, enough that you were already panting and flushed in the face. It was always arousing to watch him at work, especially when that work was making you shudder from his touch.
He noted the twist of your hips from the pressure of the material against your throbbing clit, irises glowing in the dim light of his office like a hearth stoked lovingly by a tender hand. Kento licked his lips in anticipation and lowered his face until he was gazing at you through hooded lids, making a show of inhaling your scent.
His tongue was hot and deliciously wet, the wide muscle danced boldly over your folds, pushing deeper to circle your entrance and teasing you over and over with the strong tip dipping past your ring of muscles. You keened for him, leaning onto one hand so the other could brush back his hair, determined not to rut against his face and failing miserably.
Your husband smiled into your dewy skin, delighting in the taste of you, the scent permeating his nose and fogging his mind until his only thought was of you and the pleasure he could elicit. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, suckling it gently until you whimpered and whined, begging for mercy. He only conceded by releasing your pearl and using his teeth with reverential care to tug your puffy, blood-filled lips, letting go with an audible pop.
“Kento… oh shit—more!”
It was bliss when his nose nudged your clitoral hood, the bridge rubbing friction into your pubic mound until you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stand from the desk without help. Still, he took his time ravishing your sweet cunt between groaned words of praise. Every reverberation from his mouth resonated deep in the pit of your belly, tightening the coils of desire until you couldn’t draw breath.
With a sloppy slurp, Kento glanced up at your face twisted into pure pleasure. “You look like a feast in my shirt, sweetheart, taste delicious too.”
You couldn’t form a response, the words broken into pieces inside your brain and not even the syllables would come to you, only raw guttural noises. Your husband feasted on you atop his desk like never before, indenting your squishy thighs with the beginnings of marks from his fingertips.
The dam burst quite suddenly, catapulting you into an orgasm that saw you jolt upright, holding Kento by the back of his head to keep him buried in you. He groaned into the heart of you, eyes rolling over as the sweetest nectar he’d ever indulged in adorned his tongue in sticky trickles.
Once you started to return to your senses, you let him up only to whimper at the mess of his face. His chin and cheeks were slick with saliva and arousal, lips petal pink and swollen from his ministrations and he looked ready to blow a fuse.
“B-bed. Take me to bed, your work can wait until the morning…” you beseeched, fingering his jawline and desperately grateful when he bridged the gap to kiss you.
Without argument or debate, he stood from his chair and lifted you over his broad shoulder, an arm hooked around your thighs to secure you in place. You giggled at your upside-down view of his backside, still sensitive to his touch from the aftereffects of your orgasm, but at least you had managed to get him to bed.
You’d have to remember this tactic…
#delirious writes#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#kento smut#kento nanami#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Muzzle that dog
Logan Howlett (wolverine) X male reader
⚠️bondage, bottom Logan, dog muzzle, dog play (?), male reader, collar and leash⚠️
🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨
______________________________________________________________
Since Logan has mutated he's become more animal-like. Sometimes he goes feral. He turns into a feral wolf. Especially when he's in heat. Yes. He has heat seasons. Once to two times a year. And by feral I mean feral.
And what does he do when that happens? He locks himself in his cabin that was gifted to him by his friends from Xaviers when he almost broke the school kitchen.
Recently though. His heat has been worse. There's this new guy in the school named Y/n. And he and Logan grew close almost instantly. Logan thinks he's starting to fall in love with him. But he doesn't want to accept it. Not when all the people he loved got hurt because of him.
Now it's October. And to Logan's luck. His heat is starting. And his heat lasts for as long as possible. So he'll have to inform Ororo so she doesn't plan a birthday party as she likes to do because he'll definitely still be in heat during his birthday.
Ororo understood immediately and cancelled her already plan in the works and just gave Logan his birthday present early. Y/n on the other hand. He had a lot of gifts. And he couldn't just give them to Logan in the open. So he waited.
He had a plan.
A horny plan.
Eventually, the date hits October 12th. Logan's been in his cabin for a week now. Currently he's in the middle of the empty room whose flooring is just mattresses. There's a wooden floor underneath obviously but most of the floor is a mattress. Besides the bathroom which is separated by a door opposite of the front door, a kitchen corner that has a classic wooden floor, and a fireplace that is built into a wall but still has enough of a wooden floor in front of it so the mattress wouldn't catch.
It's kind of like a kids dream pillow fort. Other than that the cabin is pretty modern. Obviously paid for by Charles to get it as comfortable as possible.
Logan is sitting in the nest of pillows and blankets. Sweating even though the fire isn't on. He's just staring at a wall. That's until he hears footsteps near his cabin. He doesn't think much of it at first but then he catches a familiar scent. He growls and watches the door hoping that they're not stupid enough to walk in.
Now the cabin is locked yes. But the door is on a password lock. Only Charles and Logan know it. At least that's what Logan thought before the door clicked and opened. And in walked y/n with a big box.
"Morning birthday boy." Y/n grins and closes the door that automatically locks. Logan growls. "What are you doing here Y/L/N."
"Came here to celebrate with my favourite boy." The other mutant said with a smirk and set the box down in front of Logan. "Happy birthday sweaty boy." He joked about Logan's current state.
Now Logan may not look the best. But y/n's isn't complaining. He doesn't mind sweaty body hair and that delicious-looking erection that's standing between Logan's legs. Yes, he's not wearing underwear. He feels like his skin is on fire. Of course, he's not wearing anything.
Logan just watches the other mutant debating if this is a joke or not. Eventually, he reaches for the big box that could fit an old box TV. In the meantime, y/n removes his jacket and looks around the cabin.
Logan looks into the box and sees more boxes, but these are wrapped with birthday-themed wrapping paper. He raised an eyebrow and briefly looked at the other mutant before looking back at the gifts.
He reaches for one of the gifts and rips the paper off. He can feel y/n sit behind him. He's so close Logan can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He also feels that y/n is now shirtless. Logan's hands stopped moving as all of his senses focused on the man pressed against his back.
The other mutant looks over Logan's shoulder. He breathes against his neck and talks in a low murmuring voice "Why aren't you opening it?" Logan shivers at the closeness and feeling of y/n's breath against his neck.
Logan takes a shaky breath and focuses back on the box. Once he fully removed the wrapping paper he used one of his claws to cut the box.
Inside was a handmade leather collar with a loop at the front of it. Logan flushes beet red. His breath hitches as he feels the leather under his fingers. Y/n smirks against Logan's neck. "Open the next one."
The older mutant shakily reaches for another present. He rips off the paper and cuts the box open. Inside is a matching leash. It looks sturdy enough for a good rough tug. Logan's dick twitches at the thought.
Y/n kisses the crook of Logan's neck. Which causes Logan to whimper. But it doesn't sound like a moaning whimper. It sounds like an actual sad dog whimpering.
He reaches for another box wanting to be done already so he can jump on the other mutant's dick. He grabs the present, rips off the paper, and tears the box open. Inside is a dog muzzle.
That's enough for Logan. He pushes the box back and turns around to pounce on y/n. The other mutant laughs and catches Logan. The force of the wolfish man causes them both to fall back on the mattress floor.
Logan whines like a dog as he claims y/n's lips with his own. Y/n caresses his thighs and flips them over. "I take you're happy with your gifts?" He murmured against Logan's lips. The wolfish man whines in response and pulls y/n's face closer.
"Even though you haven't opened the rest of them yet?" He murmured between kisses. Logan huffs. "Just tell me what they are."
"More collars." Y/n hummed and kissed Logan's neck. The wolfish man only shivered and whined. Logan grabbed y/n's head and pulled him into an open kiss. He fought y/n's tongue like an animal.
The other mutant let go of Logan's thigh with one hand and patted around on the floor for the collar. Logan could feel the heat in his body starting to calm down but he still felt like he was on fire because he was being touched by y/n.
Logan suddenly let out a gasp when he felt cold leather wrap around his neck. He looked down and saw the o ring dangling from the front of the collar. He looks up and is met with y/n's hungry eyes. Logan whimpers and squeezes his thighs together.
"Look at you. So beautiful." Y/n murmurs and traces the collar. Logan whines. "Such beautiful sounds. I wonder what sounds you'd make if I..." Y/n's words trail off as he hooks two fingers into the o ring and tugs. Logan gasps and cries out. Those sounds go straight to y/n's groin.
Y/n kisses the collared man and pushes him onto the floor/bed. He reaches for the leash and attaches it to the collar. "Be a good boy for me okay?" Y/n murmured as he kissed down Logan's body. Logan nods.
The other mutant makes his way towards Logan's leaking cock and gives it a kiss. Logan whimpers and bucks his hips up. But y/n pulls back. "Ah ah ah. No moving."
The collared man whimpers and fights the urge to thrust up. So he bites into his hand without much worrying about how hard he's biting. He'll heal. Which he does right after he bites deep into his flesh by accident when he feels y/n's fingers against his hole.
Y/n pushes one lubed finger in which goes in with ease because Logan's wet with slick. As he fingers the whimpering man he kisses and licks his dick. "You taste as delicious as you sound."
Logan whines and thrusts up again. Y/n grumbles and tugs at the leash. The collared man gasps and stops moving. "I said no moving pup," Y/n said as he hovered over Logan. Logan whimpers again.
The other mutant adds a second finger and kisses Logan's neck. The room is filled with whimpers and whines. Each one was louder with each added finger. "Good job pup. Do you think you can ride?" Y/n murmurs as he sits down and pulls Logan into his lap. The collared man nods eagerly and lines up.
Y/n chuckles. "So eager." Y/n teased but let Logan do what he wanted. Logan sank almost instantly the moment he felt the tip enter him. He whines loudly and starts bouncing. The other mutant mons at the instant movement and grabs onto Logan's thighs. "Holly shit pup you're tight."
The collared man whimpers and rests his hands on y/n's shoulders. He bounces and rolls his hips wanting as much friction as possible. Whenever he's in heat it's like he has a constant itch from the inside. And the way y/n's dick is rubbing against his walls it's like the best back scratch anyone could wish for.
Y/n tugged at the leash to pull Logan closer so he could devour his lips. Logan angled his hips in a way that abused his g-spot almost perfectly, and he accidentally bit y/n's lip harshly. Y/n hisses and pulls back. He licks the blood off his lips and his eyes darker with lust.
Logan whimpers out, repeated apologies, but keeps bouncing. The other man growls and reaches for the muzzle. "Bad dog. Who told you you could bite?" That gets Logan to whimper louder. Y/n tugs at the leash. "Stop." He ordered.
Logan whines in protest and keeps bouncing. Y/n shakes his head and tugs again but this time harder. "Don't disobey."
The collared man whines and forces his body to stay still so Y/n can put the cage around his mouth. "Dogs that bite without permission get the muzzle. This is what you get for being a bad puppy." Y/n scolded as he made sure the muzzle is on tight but still comfortable for Logan.
The said man only whimpered in response and looked at y/n with sad puppy eyes and a pouty lip. The other man only shakes his head and leans back on his hands. "Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock."
Logan doesn't hesitate to lift and drop down again. He searched for that angle again. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before his head throws back and his cries fill the room. He's so close, but he doesn't want to cum yet, so he holds back.
Y/n has a tight grip with one hand on Logan's thigh and the other hand tightly holds the leash. The muzzled man looks so beautiful like this.
All deliciously wet and red. He's wet for multiple reasons. Sweat that makes his body hair stick together and his hair stick to his forehead, pre cum that's covering his belly due to his dick smacking against it so much, spit on his lips and chin because he forgot how to close his mouth, and tears running down his cheeks due to his amount of overwhelming emotions.
Y/n groans and watches Logan like he's an angel sent from heaven right for him. "Fuck you're so beautiful like this." He praised. "I imagined beauty but not like this." Y/n shamelessly confesses that he's been dreaming of doing this for a while. Logan whines and scratches at the other man's chest.
Y/n hisses and throws his head back. "Fucking beast." He grunts and digs his nails into Logan's thigh that immediately heals any signs of it.
The muzzled man whimpered. "I want to taste you so bad." He said with a sniffle and looked at y/n begging. The other man smirked and sat up. His nose is against the metal of the cage muzzle. "What was that pup?" He teased.
Logan whines. "Wanna taste you." He sounds so sad. Y/m though only smirks wider and licks one of the rods of the metal cage that's keeping their lips separated. The collared man whimpers and pouts.
"aww. Look at you you gorgeous puppy. I almost want to take this muzzle off." He teased, hooked his fingers through the cage, and tugged him closer. Logan cries out at that. He watches the other mutant with desperation.
Y/n kisses the bars and licks the side of the muzzle until he's able to kiss Logan's cheek. "Next time you behave and you'll get what you want." He let go of the muzzle and leaned back again.
The collared man whimpered but kept bouncing. Y/n runs his hand up Logan's thigh until it reaches the round goods of his ass. "I'm going to stuff you so much you won't be in heat for a year." Y/n grunts and meets Logan's bounces by thrusting up into him.
Logan whimpers. He's so close. "I can't hold it anymore." He cried out and spilled all over his belly. Y/n chuckles and watches how the muzzled man shakes with overstimulation because he's not stopping yet. "Just a little more. I'm almost there." Y/n murmurs and lays Logan on his back so he can rest as Y/n does the work.
Which he doesn't do much because his hips are so fucking sore from Logan's adamantium weight. But he makes work with what he can and chases his climax. Which also doesn't take long.
Without moments y/n spills into Logan and collapses on top of him. They both pant and catch their breath. Eventually y/n rolls off of Logan and onto the comfy mattress floor. He pets Logan's hair and slowly removes the muzzle so they can cuddle easier.
This was a mistake because Logan immediately latched himself onto Logan's chest and started marking. But y/n is too tired to bother and just caresses the collared man's hair. "Alright pup slow down." He gives a weak chuckle.
Logan whines but stops his marking. For now anyway. Instead he just nuzzles into y/n. He's as close as much as he can and still not satisfied. It's like he wants to be absorbed by y/n he wants to be close to him in ways that aren't possible.
"it's alright pup I'm not leaving you can rest." Y/n said and lazily caressed Logan's hair. The collared man relaxed and lets his body fall into much needed sleep.
#x male reader smut#top male reader#male reader#logan howlett x male reader#wolverine x male reader#x male reader
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」
Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly
You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?
Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?
Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.
In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be?
And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…
Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.
You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic.
ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy.
Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.
“What’s this?”
You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.
His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.
The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.
“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.
Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.
You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?
You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.
Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley.
The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?
Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.
They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals.
When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.
As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.
You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.
If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one.
The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.
Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?
Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.
Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.
Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this?
That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”
This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.
“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”
Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.
Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.
“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”
You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins.
“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”
Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?
“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”
Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.
You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.
The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.
It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:
Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.
The man.
The man you shot with Mania.
“Welcome to th-,”
You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”
He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?
“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.
“What?”
“Would you like-,” he began.
You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.
A horror. Hell was full of horrors.
He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.
If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.
But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?
He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?
“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.
We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.
“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?
“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.
“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.
“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”
“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”
“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.
“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.
If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.
Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.
He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.
“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.
“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”
“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone.
“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.
“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.
“Peripherally.”
Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color.
“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”
Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling.
He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.
You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.
“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.
A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded.
He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”
You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.
When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.
It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns?
Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.
You thought you saw his eye twitch.
With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”
He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.
Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”
When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.
You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.
You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day.
“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”
As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-
“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.
“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.
“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front.
Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.
You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud.
You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.
After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby.
“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom.
“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position.
Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected. Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy.
“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you.
“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.
“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process.
The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.
The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort.
Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell.
You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there.
As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.
“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”
Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”
You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did.
“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming.
“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.”
“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”
“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”
A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”
“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered.
You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?
“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”
A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side.
You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby.
No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom.
It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.
Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”
You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.
The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.
The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.
He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.
“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.
“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”
Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.
You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.
A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”
His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.
His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.
“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.
Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.
He took your silence as an answer.
“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.
He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?
“May I help you get dressed?”
You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.
To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.
You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.
Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.
Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.
But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.
“Good?”
He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.
A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath.
“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm.
You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids.
“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.
“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”
You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt.
“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”
“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”
His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.
“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice.
Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him.
“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.
“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.
It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”
A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.”
Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”
“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.
“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”
Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall.
Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you.
No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.
The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.
Deja vu.
Oh.
What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not.
No. Obviously not.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor
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Cold Nights
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.
Word Count: 794
Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭
A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖
Masterlist✨
Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.
Why isn't she here?
His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.
Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.
"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."
"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.
"Got things to do."
He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.
It's a cold day. Just like the day before.
Days used to mean nothing to him.
Time.
Until she came along. Three years ago.
That woman... he sighs.
Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?
Everything was fine.
Or so he thought.
-
"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.
"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.
Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.
"What?"
"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."
There's a silence that falls between them.
"Those were the words of a drunk man."
"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"
He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.
"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."
"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"
Simon chuckles. He really does.
"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."
And he's doomed.
-
He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.
He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.
He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.
He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.
Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.
"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.
"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.
"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.
"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.
"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."
"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.
"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."
"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."
She looks at him wide-eyed.
"You... you don't," she stutters.
"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."
"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod ghost#ghost x reader#call of duty ghost simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#john price#john price x reader#cod konig#cod mw22
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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, fluffff fluuuuffff disgustingly sweet lol, English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 6k+
A/n: sorry for the delay, I hope this chapter lifts your spirits! Happy reading my loves and reblogs & comments are always appreciated🥹💕
Taglist: it’s closed!
-> series masterlist <-
Chapter 6: a summer worth living
The sound of a notification catches Aemond’s attention. He reaches for his phone on the desk, smiling when he sees your name on his screen.
Clementine: “Need your help with something!”
His smile widens as he types back, scratching behind Vhagar’s ear who sleeps beside him on the library’s couch.
Aemond: “Good morning to you too, darling. How can I help you?”
Clementine: “We saw each other at breakfast! Anyway, you should come upstairs to give me your opinion!”
He chuckles, remembering how hard it was for you not to let anyone notice a thing in the way you walked or interacted with him. Still, Helaena’s sharp eyes took the hints immediately, and without hesitation, she dragged you out of the kitchen with a playful glare at Aemond.
Aemond: “Did not have the chance to wish you a good morning in private, or even kiss you, which is why I’ve started my day on a bad note.”
Clementine: “Oh no, did I neglect you today?🥺 If yes, then you should really come upstairs now! Need your help and most importantly, I can give you your morning kisses.”
Aemond shakes his head as he starts typing again, grinning like an idiot.
Aemond: “I’m busy, darling—“
He doesn’t even have the chance to send the next text when he sees yours, and in an instant, he is up on his feet.
Clementine: “I doubt you’ll like it if I ask Aegon to help me choose which bikini to wear while I’m lying half-naked on my bed.”
Aemond: “I’m coming.”
Clementine: “Good boy.”
Without wasting another second, he walks out of the library, skipping a step or two as he makes his way to your room. His heartbeat rises with each step he takes, even the thought of you half-naked is something that sets his skin on fire but to have you confess it to him? He’s a man possessed.
It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, quite the opposite. In fact, ever since your night out on the yacht, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands to himself; always touching, caressing, kissing when no one saw — which Helaena scolds him for.
He knocks on your door, looking at the ends of the hallway to see if anyone is around before you open the door pulling him inside your room by grabbing the collar of his shirt.
His lips are on yours in the blink of an eye, pressing you to your door as he kisses you fiercely, his large palms running up and down your naked sides, his lips moving in sync with yours.
“Good morning, handsome,” You mumble between his kisses, urging him to keep going by pressing his face to yours with a hand through his hair. His fingers skim over your hips as he grips them, squeezing your flesh while his tongue explores your mouth.
“It’s certainly a good one now,” he whispers, trailing his lips from your cheeks to your neck, pressing feather-like kisses all over your skin as you lean your head back on the door, giving more space for him to leave his marks on you.
“Pool party with Hel?” he asks, raising his face from your neck to look at you.
“Not a party, just relaxing,” you smile when he grabs one of your arms that is wrapped around his neck, starting kissing from your shoulders to your elbows, “besides, Aegon will definitely show up with alcohol and turn it into— Aemond, stop distracting me!” you giggle when he nips at your wrist, kissing your pulse once more before he leans to lock your lips in a searing kiss.
“Mind if I join you? I promise to behave,” he says, letting go of your arm to reach behind you, caressing your waist before his hands inch down slowly, looking at you with a dangerous glint in his good eye.
“Absolutely-fucking-not,” you dodge under his arms, freeing yourself from his grip, and he finally has the chance to actually look at what you are wearing, or what you are not, because coming up to your room and kissing you distracted him from shamelessly eyeing you only in your bra and underwear, “Also, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“This is my house, and I can use the pool whenever I want,” he backs you against your bed, “I’m a man of my word, you’ll learn that soon enough.”
“Hmm, is that right?” You turn around and hold the two bikinis up for him to choose, “red or black?”
“I think I might faint if you don’t wear the black one,” he says, smiling as you nod, pursing your lips as you hug his waist.
“I fear what will happen to you if I wear it,” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him before reaching to push a few strands of his hair behind his ear.
“I think I’ll drop dead,” he replies, his tone serious and with how he caresses the dip of your back and gazes at you, you know he might just be that serious.
“Aemond,” you pout at him, “I know you’re joking but your death is not funny in any scenario.”
“Alright darling,” he kisses your forehead, squeezing your back, “I won’t talk about it anymore.”
“The fainting though…” you unwrap your arms around him, reaching behind to unclasp your bra, watching his eye drop to your bare chest, “I like that.”
“You fucking tease—“
“Fucking hell!” Helaena screams as she opens the door and closes it immediately, “For fuck sake, can you two please keep it under the fucking radar? I seriously don’t want to see my brother getting giddy with my best friend.”
“It’s not like you haven’t seen my boobs before, idiot,” you reply, grabbing the bikini top before asking Aemond to tie the threads around your neck and back, giggling when he bites your shoulder as you listen to Helaena scold the two of you from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, but I don’t need to see Aemond eating your face like a fish! Lock the door next time, and don’t make me wait! You better not fuck when I leave,” she bangs her fist twice on the door before she leaves, making Aemond groan and drop his head on your shoulder.
“She’s annoying.”
“She helped us, be grateful,” you kiss the side of his head before reaching for the bottom of the bikini on your bed, before changing quickly so Aemond wouldn’t get too handsy with you, “At least she’s not like Aegon, he would probably stick around and listen if we fucked.”
“Why are you so obsessed with bringing up that manwhore every time you get naked?” He teases you, shaking his head as he gives you an overall look, licking his lips at the sight of you in a bikini that has his mind-melting.
“To rile you up,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Aemond on top of you with the collar of his shirt, forcing him to embrace himself on the bed by his forearms.
“Never thought I’d see this side of you,” he bumps his nose to yours, “sweet sweet friend of Helaena who was my sister’s rock in every way… look at you now, naughtier than anyone I know.”
“I doubt you know many girls—Ahh! Stop, Aemond—“
He starts tickling you, pushing your legs apart to stand between them while his fingers pinch your sides.
“That’s the truth, but I know Aegon and you are worse than him.”
“Take that back!” You laugh, hitting his chest as he tries to flip you over on your stomach but you lock your legs around his waist, “no one is near close to Aegon when it comes to sex.”
“Yeah, you’re right—“
“Now, let me go and distract your sister from what she saw earlier, and you, my handsome handsome nerd,” you give him a sweet kiss on the lips, “should go and put on your switruck and join us by the pool.”
“Deal.”
•••••
Aemond walks out of the house towards the outdoor pool, finding you and Helaena already on the sun loungers while Dreamfyre chases Vhagar, barking and jumping on her with delight. He approaches you, his towel dropped on his shoulder as he sits on the edge of your lounge before he reaches and grabs the back of his shirt, pulling the fabric off with one arm.
“Ew, fuck off,” Helaena groans, looking at how Aemond puts up a show for you, and you do not stare away from him while he is topless and braiding his hair quickly, “You’re disgusting!”
”Oh, please shut up,” you whisper, watching Aemond kissing your knee gently before he walks to the edge of the pool and dives in, splashing water everywhere, “Fuck me.”
“What a showoff!” Helaena throws her book at you, pulling you out of your thoughts, glaring at you with her huge eyes, “You are a totally different person around him! That’s disgusting, stop eye-fucking my brother.”
“I wasn’t!” You hiss at her, pursing your lips together as you meet her eyes, “he’s just…hot, okay?”
“Definitely not okay, dumbass! I don’t want to hear anything but my brother’s sex life, alright?”
“Why? He is so tall and so so big—“
“Fuck off!” She screams and makes a gagging sound, and you laugh in return, watching her face twist in deep disgust, “Where are those two?”
“I don’t know but I hope they get here soon, I’m so thirsty,” you exclaim, chuckling when Vhagar jumps on your lounge, crawling her way up to your lap to just lay there and bask under the sunlight with you, “hello, old lady.”
“YOU STARTED WITHOUT ME?” Aegon’s screech fills the air as he walks with a pout, a cooler in one hand as he joins you and Hel with Daeron, glaring at Aemond who keeps swimming, not really paying attention to his older brother.
“We had no choice, sweetheart,” Helaena says, making room for Aegon and Daeron to sit and bring out the beers.
“Shouldn’t we call Aemond?” You ask, thanking Daeron who hands you a cold bottle of beer, “he might be thirsty too, right?”
“Babe,” Helaena gives you a look that makes you shudder to your bones, “Don’t.”
You nod, because the glare she sends you is probably able to kill you on the spot. You sip on your drink, watching Aemond swim from one side of the pool to the other, his tall frame moving under the water.
“Time for some music!” Daeron announces, pulling out his phone while Aegon takes off his shirt and hands his bottle to Hel before he joins Aemond in the water.
You watch Aemond swim to the edge of the pool, his braided hair wet and dripping as he leans on his forearms, his eye finding yours pretty quickly.
He watches closely as you take a deep breath. He rests his palms on the mosaics and pulls himself out of the pool, sitting on the edge with his legs in the cold water. Aemond no longer looks at you, but his smile widens when he sees your shadow looming over him as you sit beside him, handing him his beer with a shaky exhale.
“What are you doing?” You ask him, crossing one of your legs over the other when he takes a long sip from his beer, his wet hair shining under the blazing sunlight and his throat bobbing as he swallows the drink, “Do you want to kill me or what?”
“Consider this a payback for the little stunt you pulled earlier,” he smirks, running his fingers through his hair, messing up his braid even more, “I had no idea I would have such an effect on you though.”
“Right, you had no idea,” you hiss, rolling your eyes at him playfully, “That’s why you are acting like a supermodel in a shampoo ad in front of me.”
“Shampoo ad? I’m offended,” He whispers, “I thought I was quite clear with what I wanted to do.”
“If making me wet in front of your siblings was your plan, then it worked,” you take a swig from the beer, shaking your head when you see his smug face, “Don’t you fucking dare, Aemond.”
“What? Can I not admire my girl?” He leans back on his elbows, making it harder for you to keep looking at his face while his abs are fully displayed.
“Well, you are making it quite hard for me to keep my cool. Sit up, or else I will break your bones.”
“You gonna jump on me now?” He sits up and leans on the plam he puts right behind your ass, leaning down to whisper, “But you’ll make a scene… or maybe you want them to see, huh?”
“I’m gonna kill you—”
“Holy shit, Mum?”
You and Aemond turn around immediately, finding Alicent coming to join you by the pool with her auburn hair falling around her shoulders, her sunglasses resting atop his head while she walks toward the empty lounge only in her swimsuit.
“What now? I can’t enjoy a good day in my own pool?”
“Of course, but—” “You have never worn a swimsuit before,” Aegon finishes Helaena’s sentence.
“Everything has a first time,” she exhales, turning around to find Cole looking away immediately from her, clearing his throat as he guards the door to the house before she looks back at all of you, “Can you stop looking at me like I have grown another head? It’s summer and I wanna spend some time with my children before they leave again.”
“I’m gonna ask you something and I want the truth,” Aemond nods and helps you on your feet, “Does Cole… have feelings for your mum?” “Yup,” he guides you by his palm on your waist, joining the group, “I don’t think they have done anything other than probably talking to each other but you can feel how happier Mum is around him.”
“That’s…unexpected but really cool,” you reply, “What if they fucked—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he pinches your side before he distances himself from you, standing next to his mother, “How are you doing, Mum?”
“Amazing! Now come on, what are you demons up to?” Alicent asks, ruffling Daeron’s head a little before she sits beside him.
“Muuuuum I’m twenty-one! You gotta stop doing that!” Daeron pouts, and pops a beer for his mother, handing her the cold beverage.
“You are no fun,” she does it again, to which Daeron tries to act as if he hates it, “anyway, what are you going to do? And please spare me the dirty jokes, Aegon, and let’s do something fun.”
“Sunbathing?” Aegon suggests, laying head on Helaena’s lap.
“Nah, Aemond will burn so bad,” Helaena laughs as soon as Alicent says, and you try to stifle your giggles but Aemond’s glare only makes you burst out laughing.
“How bad?” You ask.
“So bad! Once we went to an aqua park, and I am not kidding when I said he looked so red when we were driving back! His whole body was burnt, and he doesn’t get tanned, he burns!”
“Mother, please,” he shakes his head and walks to an empty lounge, resting his head on his arm, “anything but sunbathing.”
“Oh, I know I know!” Daeron finishes his beer before he talks, “Pool Volleyball? Yeah? Girls vs boys?”
“Come on, take it easy on Aegon, Hel will eat him alive,” you shrug as you say and watch Aegon whip his head in your direction.
“You're counting me among the girls?” He looks at you, wide-eyed and blushing, “How dare you?”
“You said your tits are nicer than mine.”
“You said what?” Alicent asks, wiggling her eyebrows at Aegon who just grins at her before he stands up and pulls his t-shirt off, “these are definitely nicer than hers.”
“You’re just sour that you don’t carry a vagina around with you all the time,” you pat his shoulder before putting your beer on the table between the lounges, bending down a bit in front of Aemond, giving him a good view of your cleavage.
“Fucking tease,” Aemond whispers and sits up immediately, looking at Aegon to wipe the image of your body from his head before you get him in trouble, “we don’t have a net, how are we going to play?”
“You know what? Forget the game, let’s go inside and order something for lunch.”
“You sure, Ali?” You ask, earning a kiss on your forehead from Alicent before she nods.
“Absolutely, come on, ducklings.”
“Yes, Mama Duck,” Aegon and Daeron follow her inside the house, leaving Helaena alone with you.
“I’m gonna leave,” she stands and points at you two, “you better not do it here, and clean up this mess. A payback for this morning.”
“What do you take us for? Horny teens?” You ask, but Aemond proves her wrong immediately, standing up from the lounge to wrap his arms around your waist, “Aemond—“
“That’s exactly what I mean! Urgh, you guys need to get a fucking room!” Helaena sneers, leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek before flocking Aemond’s forehead and leaving you alone.
“Come,” Aemond kisses your shoulder before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you behind him towards the end of the pool, helping you up a few stairs that lead to the jacuzzi hidden from the house’s view.
“Hmm, this is nice,” you lower yourself in the warm water, leaning your head back as you watch Aemond do the same, sighing as his muscles relax instantly.
“How are you feeling, beautiful?” He asks, pulling you closer by snaking his arm around your waist, guiding you so you are perched across his lap, “I’ve missed you.”
“We haven’t been apart even for one minute,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, “How is it that you miss me so much, Little nerd?”
“I don’t know, maybe I like you a lot,” he shrugs, kissing the side of your head while his large palm glides across your thighs under the water.
“Uh huh, no funny business in the jacuzzi, mister,” you kiss the corner of his lips, smiling when he squeezes your flesh before he brings his lips down to yours, tasting the beer off your tongue.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he whispers against you, pecking your lips and cheeks, keeping you close to him while you scratch the back of his neck.
“Good, that’s exactly what I want,” you bite his lower lip, making him groan in response, “Now let’s go, I’m sure your Mum is looking for us.”
“I don’t wanna leave!” He whines but follows you as you grab his hand and step out of the water, and he ogles at your back, his eye trailing over your ass in the bikini, “I need to get away from you as soon as possible or I’ll bend you over the nearest surface and—“
“Good thing I’m gonna let go of your hand because Daeron is coming out of the house,” you whisper before you turn around and shoot him a teasing smile, looking back at Daeron and waving at him.
“What did I get myself into?”
•••••••••
Aemond sighs, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he keeps reading his book under the dim light of his lamp, lying on top of his cold bed sheets.
He looks up when he hears his door knob twisting, finding you peeking through the door at him before you ask quietly if you can come in which he of course says yes.
“Hi,” you say, leaning back on the door, looking at him shyly, and he takes his time to look at what you are wearing; a short silky nightdress that falls on your upper thighs, the straps of it falling down from your shoulders.
“Hey you,” he closes his book and puts it on the nightstand before he extends his hand for you to come and take it, “why are you up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply, padding across the room until you reach his bed, crawling on top of him, straddling him gently, “You?”
“I like reading in the dark,” he explains, his surprisingly soft palms caressing your exposed thighs gently, making you rest your hands on his bare chest.
“So that’s where the glasses come from,” you tease him, “I had no idea you owned plaid pajamas.”
“What can I say? Aegon bought them for me as a souvenir from Dorne,” he scoffs, letting his hands wander under the silk fabric of your dress, running his fingers up and down on your heated skin, “He has quite the questionable taste.”
“I like them,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his cheeks, your fingers also tracing the muscles of his chest, grazing your nails against his neck, “They suit you.”
“Yeah? Well then, I’ll wear them more often,” he turns his head, pressing his lips to yours gently, kissing you softly while one of his hands comes up to hold you close to him by the back of your neck, “What are you really doing here, hmm?”
“Well… you see…” you whisper, trailing your kisses from his lips to his ear, biting on his earlobe, “Seeing my boyfriend all wet and dripping had me feeling things…”
“Boyfriend, huh? Tell me more, darling,” he throws his head back, giving you enough space to kiss down his neck, sucking a little mark on the skin of his throat.
The blood rushes to his cock as soon as you start grinding your hips down, your clothed cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants as you nibble on his collarbone, licking the line of his bone before you look up at him, grinning softly.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he says, his hands going down to your hips to rock you against his now fully hard cock, groaning when you lean down to take his nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking on the bud feverishly.
“You’ve said it twice today. You must be going nuts then.”
“If you don’t ride me now, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do to you,” he sighs, already breathless and empty-headed, “I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.”
“Save it for another time, baby,” you sit upward, pressing yourself completely down on his covered cock to pull down your nightdress enough for your boobs to be exposed before sitting up on your knees, reaching beneath his pajamas to pull his cock out, “I need to feel you tonight.”
“Take what you need, darling—fuck…” you both sigh in delight when you press his tip to your entrance, bracing yourself with one hand on his chest while the other guides him further into you until you slowly sit on him, taking his full length inside you.
“Aemond,” you moan as you start to grind your hips down, gently rolling them in circles in a way that has Aemond digging his nails into your flesh.
“There you go, beautiful, that’s right,” he spreads his legs more, his silver hair framing his face like rays of moonlight while you gaze down at him, watching his face morph into a hazy smile, “You’re unreal.”
“So are you, you should see yourself,” you gasp as you start to slowly move up and down his length, his cock nudging the deep spots inside you deliciously. Nothing is rushed or impatient, you are taking your time with how you ride him, how you memorize his face twist in pleasure.
“There is my girl,” he whispers when you start bouncing a bit faster, gasping and moaning his name while you close your eyes and get lost in the pleasure, “I know you’re close, darling. Give it to me, yeah, come on.”
“A-Aemond, fuck,” you grab on the headboard with both hands as the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you gets more intense, “I- I need more, please—“
“I know, I know,” he looks up at you as if you are a goddess sent from heaven to him, and for him to please you, so he reaches down and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, “There you go, beautiful, anything for you.”
You down say anything, your moans, gasps and the way you tightly clench around Aemond is enough to set both of your skins ablaze. You fall on his chest and he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you close to him while he starts snapping his hips up to yours, burying his face into your neck while he drives you both closer to your breaking point.
He breaks first, pulling out quickly, but you stop him before he has the chance to stroke himself and sit on his cock, rubbing your clit to his throbbing member as he twitches underneath you.
“Fuck, darling, I’m gonna—“
“Me too, please— I-I— fuck, Aemond!”
You come together; you gush on his cock while he pulsates and comes on his stomach, ropes of his come covering his body and your wetness dripping on his waist as you shake on top of him.
As soon as you both calm down, he sits up against the headboard and kisses your forehead, pushing a few sweaty strands of your hair out of your face before he leans down and locks your lips with his.
“You made a mess on me,” he chuckles and you bashfully bat your eyes at him before dropping your head on his shoulder, “Don’t sleep on me now, let’s clean up then we can cuddle, yeah?”
••••••••
“Wake up, lovers!” Helaena bangs on Aemond’s door, “it’s way past noon! Come on, wake the fuck up!”
“Your sister hates us I swear,” you groan as you hide your face into Aemond’s neck, tightening your arms around him so he doesn’t leave the bed, “Fuck off, Hel!”
“Nope, I’m coming in, and you better have some clothes on,” she pushes the door open, hands on her hips as she glares at you two, “Up, now! Aegon’s generosity is at its peak and we should take advantage of that. He says he wants to take us for an ice cream date but I’m sure he just wants to hit on the sexy girls who work there.”
“You guys go, we don’t wanna come,” you say, your words muffled by Aemond’s shoulder but when you feel he pulls away a bit, you whine and tuck him closer, “No…”
“Babe, come on! Don’t whine, we’ll have so much fun! Also, Daeron said he had a surprise for us!” Helaena pleads, and you feel Aemond sit up completely.
“Fine,” he groans before he leans down to peck your cheek, “Come on, darling, get up. We’ll drive in my car, yeah? Just the two of us.”
“Fine, fine! I’m up!” You get up but pout at both of them before you give Aemond a quick kiss and leave him alone when Helaena pulls you behind her so you both go to get dressed.
Aemond smiles when you blow him a kiss with your sleepy face and bedhead, sighing when Helaena shuts the door and gives him some time to dress before you come to collect him.
He gets ready quickly, and meets you and Hel at the entrance of the house, smirking when he finds you wearing yet another sundress Helaena has gifted you for no reason. It seems he is not the only one who likes to see you in their belongings — technically, your dress isn’t hers, but the gesture is.
“Ladies,” he nods and you both smile at him. Helaena takes the chance to slip between you both before Aemond can get his hands on you.
“You wanna keep this a secret, better watch yourself around Daeron’s sharp eyes. He’ll go straight to Mum if he finds out.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighs in defeat and looks at you with an apologetic smile, only to be met with your reassuring expression.
“It’s okay, Aemond, don’t worry about it,” you reach around Hel to squeeze his shoulder, telling him it will be alright and that you understand him.
“Finally! Come on, we gotta head to the nearest town and buy a few things before Daeron takes us to his—“
“Shut the fuck up, you gonna spoil my surprise!” Daeron groans in annoyance before he looks at you three, “We’ll get ice cream, then we’ll run some errands and after that, I will help you make a core memory!”
“Sounds fun,” you say, and Aemond nods in response before he walks towards the parking, unlocking his BMW, but he stops and turns around, asking who would like to drive with him.
“I’ll go, I can’t stand Aegon’s playlists,” you say, and walk to Aemond, ignoring Aegon’s protests about how good his songs are, “Come on, let’s go!”
“Yes, princess,” Aemond bows sarcastically before he sits on the driver’s side and starts the engine
“Stop giving me attitude, Aemond Targaryen,” you glare at him playfully, buckling your seatbelt before he drives out of the parking lot, Aegon following you closely with his car.
“Or what?” He taunts you, waiting to see what exactly you have up your sleeve.
“Or I’ll fix it for you,” you do not back down from the challenge, and knowing him, you know he won’t either, “Careful, I can be mean if I want to.”
“Oh, yeah? By all means, be my guest,” he smirks and you smirk back, watching how the afternoon sunlight shines on his face, his hair floating in the air as he eases off the car.
Aemond parks the car in front of a little caf after Aegon, and you step out of the car, Helaena and Daeron joining you both as the group walks inside — and as Helaena said earlier, Aegon starts flirting immediately.
The girl Aegon was talking to takes your orders and you all sit around a table and start talking until Aemond stands up to help Aegon bring your ice cream.
“So, why are we going grocery shopping? Are you taking us for a trip?” You ask, sitting snugly against Aemond, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders unconsciously, making Helaena clear his throat.
“Oh, come on! Everyone knows these two are a thing!” Daeron says, shrugging when Helaena gasps, “I thought everyone knew!”
“You just found out?” Aegon asks, licking his ice cream before he starts talking with a full mouth, “Our brother is not as subtle as he thinks.”
“Fuck off,” Aemond rolls his eye but doesn’t take his arm off of you, “At least I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”
“See! I knew it! Come on, gimme my money!” Aegon stretches his hand out to Daeron, wiggling his fingers as he waits for him to give him his money, “And what do you mean, bro? I am drowning in pussy. You think there’s a day that goes by and I don’t have a pretty girl sitting on my face?”
“I seriously don’t think he wants to hear about your amazing sex life, Aeg,” you say, leaning your head on Aemond’s shoulder, your eyes meeting Helaena’s and she matches your growing smile — now that you know that everyone knows about you and Aemond you can easily let go.
“Hold this conversation, my phone is ringing,” Daeron answers the call, “Hi sir! Yeah, yeah, we’ll be there today. Oh? Are you absolutely sure? That’s perfect… yes yes we will be there in half an hour!”
“Who was it?” Hel asks, finishing off her ice cream before she wipes her hands with the tissue, “It better not be dangerous, Daeron.”
“Easy, sis,” he pats his sister’s shoulder, “We no longer need to go shopping! We can drive straight to our destination!”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Aegon, I’m sure. Come on! We should go and come back before the sun’s gone!” And with Daeron’s cue, you are all up and heading towards the cars, and Aemond takes this chance to thread his fingers through yours, blushing a little when Aegon whistles and acts like a total jerk.
“Ignore him, baby,” you bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “And don’t worry, I’m sure Hel is telling them to keep their mouths shut and don’t tell anything to your Mum.”
“I hope so,” he smiles and returns the gesture, kissing your forehead before he opens the passenger door for you, and heading towards his own seat.
Aegon drives to the wharf Aemond took you once, and you both share an amused smile as you look at the road.
Spending such quality time with you is… unusual to Aemond. It feels domestic, so… natural and beautiful. Something he’s been craving since he remembers. This familiar warmth spreads in his chest again whenever he glances at you, melting under the slow little touches you give him as you play with the nape of his head, massaging his neck with one hand.
“Are we going to go on the yacht you took me to?” You ask, jumping out of the car, and watching Aemond putting his sunglasses on before his hand automatically reaches for you.
“Nope, that’s why he said it’ll be a core memory,” he replies and you join the trio, “So, are you gonna take us there or what?”
“Stop being impatient, pirate!” Aegon says, “We’re going there, okay? Daeron needs to talk to the captain first.”
“Okay, guys! I’m gonna take you on a one-hour tour of this beautiful Bay! Now, follow me!” Daeron explains as he waves off the captain, and you go with the Targaryens towards his boat, “Board on safely!”
He is the first to jump on his bowrider boat, helping Hel and Aegon next, leaving you in Aemond’s capable hands.
“You guys already have a family yacht, why do you have a personal boat too? And why am I just finding out about all of these? It’s like I’ve just met you guys,” You say and thank Aemond when he helps you in, steading you on your feet with his hands on your waist.
“You good?” He asks.
“Yes,” you kiss his cheek and drag him towards the empty seat next to Helaena, finding Aegon fiddling with bags of snacks on the floor of the boat.
“You see,” Daeron chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head, “We have an uncle—“
“We have two but go on.”
“As if I don’t already know,” he glares at Aegon, “but, Uncle Gwayne is pretty generous with how he spends the very large amount of useless money he has.”
“Daeron is his favorite,” Aemond whispers, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear, and his statement gets a good few nods and laughs from Aegon and Helaena.
“I am not!” But he soon takes it back, “Fine, okay, I basically grew up with him! One time, he took me on this boat trip with our other relatives and it was super fun! He kind of noticed how much I loved it and bought me this out of the fucking blue!”
“Wow, does your uncle also take wishlists? I would love to own a Rolls Royce, you know?”
“I can buy it for you,” Aemond says, looking into your eyes dead serious, “I have the money.”
“I was joking…” you chuckle, cupping his face into your hands, “For real?”
“Yeah, anything. Name it and it’s yours,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just tell you he would spend countless dollars on you just because you wished for a car.
“It’s really fun to have a hot billionaire boyfriend, you should try it,” you tell Helaena, still in shock at how easily Aemond is ready to just… give you what you want.
“Okay, stop being so lovey-dovey with my brother, and you kid, show us a good time!” Helaena rolls her eyes playfully at you as she talks to Daeron.
This has to be the best evening you’ve ever experienced; it’s filled with laughter and music, Aegon throwing you in the water, Aemond playing the savior, and getting you on the boat after he pushes Aegon in the water for the payback.
It is perfect.
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond x you#aemond fluff#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond smut#🍊dreams
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Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.
His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.
His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.
Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.
But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.
And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.
He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.
"Are you ok, man?"
Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.
"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.
The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.
"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"
"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"
Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"
"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"
"See?!"
"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"
"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."
"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"
"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."
"Oh? What's your sport?"
"BMX freestyle"
"That's the race in the mountains?"
"That's literally BMX racing."
"Right." He looked ashamed.
Eddie needed to fix that look, now.
"And you? What's your poison?"
"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."
"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."
The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.
"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"
And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.
He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.
"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"
"Oh, shut up loser."
____________________________________________________________
Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.
And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.
"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"
"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"
"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"
"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"
"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"
"Yes, sorry."
"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"
They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.
"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"
Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.
"It's you!"
"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."
"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".
And she closes the door firmly behind her.
"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."
The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.
"Eddie Munson."
"Steve Harrington."
"So, would you-"
"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"
Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.
"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."
Steve smiles too.
#steddie olympics AU#this fic is brought to you by my stomachache that it didn't let me sleep#hahaha#honestly my idea was: Eddie BMX freestyle (a new sport at Olympics) + Steve gymnast (traditional sport)#and period. Nothing else#but THEN I discovered that McDonalds is not a official sponsor anymore and my childhood died a little hahaha#and a some plot happened.#ups#steddie
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logan howlett | h.c.
anyways. here's my intro to writing logan. enjoy these unedited, rambling thoughts. i personally loveeeee me some rabid, animalistic logan like in x-men (2000), so expect lots of that for this. some of these could turn into more detailed fics, so tbh just...let me know if u want one.
logan is a tits man. he loves to ruin yours.
it's like he's drawn to your chest at all times; he needs his hands on them so often that you've just stopped wearing bras.
he'll touch you absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off what he's doing. but like a moth to a flame, his calloused fingertips find your nipples anyway.
he also likes to use his claws on your chest—just enough to leave a thin red line after he's done with you. (once, he drew blood, and he's still not willing to admit the heat that it ignited in him. he doesn't think you're ready for that yet.)
you know he wouldn't hurt you—right? but logan's not exactly the reassuring type. so you just hold still and shiver as the sharp edges run over the swells of your chest.
he loves the smell of your arousal. good thing you're one nibble on your neck away from soaking your panties. at all times.
logan gets you to sit in his lap, hold your cigar for him, and then he'll lean into your chest to suck and bite on your tits.
he likes to see a combo of his claw scratches and beard burn on them.
he likes to bite you. obviously he won't leave you in terrible pain, but it's the marking of territory that he likes.
and logan can be mean. seriously. he'll take what he wants.
he doesn't necessarily mean to be unforgiving, but...he's quite the animal. bring back feral, unhinged, rabid wolverine.
he likes pet play (it's a dominance thing). being at either end of it. collar and leash vibes. calls you pup.
logan's always scowling. you tease him about the wrinkles he'll have when he's older, but it only makes them deeper as he frowns at you.
constantly growling. grunting. he rarely whines, because he rarely lets you take charge. when he does, you'd better strap in.
his claws come out when he's close, and he doesn't tease. none of this, "tell me what you want, princess," and "touch you where? use your words" bullshit. logan fucks. full stop.
he'll do you the courtesy of making sure you're ready for him, but with his heightened sense of smell and his inability to control himself when it comes to that smirk on your face when you know he's in a rut...
yeah. he gets right to it. he'll fuck you into a quick orgasm. and another. and another.
but occasionally, he loves orgasm denial.
"logan, i'm gonna—"
"don't care. hold it."
brat tamer!logan. he knows you can take it, so he doesn't hold back when you need to be put in your place.
free use!logan. he's a man of few words. sometimes he just needs you. and you're always willing to help.
he's not vocal during sex unless you ask for it. which you make sure to.
he likes to be very nonchalant, which can come off as inattentive. but it's just the fact that he knows you so well that he doesn't have to look at you to realize what you need.
you could go up to him while he's on the couch, cigar in his mouth, and just stand there. without more than lifting his eyes to you, he'll pretend to roll his eyes and guide you to his lap with a hand behind your thigh.
he'll hold his cigar to your mouth and wait for you to take a drag before you place it back between his lips wordlessly.
is this an exhibition kink vibe
he'll also just hand things to you in public, doing very casual, domestic things that he won't really acknowledge.
he'll hand you his drink to share, even if you don't like it. he'll offer you a bite of food off his fork (or his fingers).
every once in awhile you'll see his eyes watching you and you'll know. he's quiet, but it's that quiet display of dominance that will have your core weeping in seconds.
andddddd i'm gonna go REPENT!
#logan howlett smut#logan smut#wolverine smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader smut#wolverine x reader#x men 2000#i fear he has taken over me
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