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#even though I’m sure they could not stand being in a room with one another for too long
rafecameronssl4t · 22 hours
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Reminder || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: It was just harmless banter between you and another socialite, but rafe reminds again you what the diamond ring meant on your finger.
Warnings: angst, jealous/possesive rafe hehehehe
Word count: 2,160
A/n: guys guys guys it's getting hot in here.
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
The gala is in full swing, the grand ballroom echoing with the hum of conversation and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. You stand next to Rafe, dressed to perfection in an elegant gown that draws more than a few eyes in your direction. Rafe's hand rests lightly on your waist, his touch possessive but distant—as it usually is during events like this—as you mingle with other high-society figures.
The night feels long, your polished smile tiring as you listen to half-hearted pleasantries from the guests surrounding you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Alexander Hawthorne making his way over, his smile wide and confident, his eyes locked on you. He’s known for his silver tongue and effortless charm, especially with married women. Tonight, his gaze feels particularly intent.
"Well, well, if it isn't the most beautiful woman in the room," Alexander says smoothly, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. "You always manage to outshine everyone, don’t you?" You offer a playful smile, aware of Rafe's tightening grip on your waist. "Oh, you flatter me, Alexander," you reply lightly, not fully dismissing the compliment. "But I’m sure there are plenty of others here more deserving of your attention." Alexander chuckles, clearly pleased that you're playing along.
"I highly doubt that. No one else in this room could possibly compare." His eyes flicker briefly to Rafe, but he seems unfazed by his presence. "I was actually hoping to steal you away for a dance, if I may be so bold." You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye. His jaw is clenched, his posture rigid, but he says nothing. The tension between you and him has been building over the past few weeks, and part of you enjoys testing his limits.
"A dance?" you echo, your tone teasing. "That sounds tempting." Rafe’s hand tightens even more on your waist, his irritation palpable. "I don’t think that’s a good idea," Rafe’s voice cuts through the playful banter, his tone sharp and controlled, though you can feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. His grip on your waist has gone from possessive to borderline painful, but you don’t flinch.
Instead, you tilt your head and glance up at him, your expression sweet yet defiant. "Oh? Why not, darling?" you ask, your voice dripping with mock innocence. "It’s just a harmless dance." Alexander, sensing the tension but relishing the drama, grins wider. "Come on, Rafe, it’s just a dance. Surely you trust your wife enough to let her have a bit of fun tonight?"
You notice Rafe’s jaw clench even tighter. He glares at Alexander, but the challenge is unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. You can feel Rafe’s jealousy in the way his body stiffens beside you, and for some reason, the idea of provoking him further feels oddly satisfying. "I don’t mind," you continue, turning your gaze back to Alexander.
"After all, it’s not every day a charming man asks me to dance." Rafe’s fingers dig into your side, and you suppress a wince, though your heart flutters at the possessiveness. "You’re not going anywhere," Rafe says, his voice dangerously low. His eyes lock on Alexander, who merely raises his brow in amusement.
"Rafe," you start, keeping your tone light though there’s an edge to it, "you’re being dramatic. It’s just one dance." But you know you’ve pushed him too far. The moment the words leave your lips, you feel Rafe's grip on your waist disappear, replaced by an icy tension that makes your breath catch. In one swift motion, Rafe steps forward, his broad shoulders blocking Alexander from your view entirely.
His stance is commanding, exuding an unmistakable fury, though his face remains composed—a deadly calm that’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded. "Back off, Hawthorne," Rafe snaps, his voice a cold, simmering threat. Each word is sharp, delivered with a quiet intensity that sends a chill through the air. "You don’t want to test me right now." If it wasn't Rafe height that loomed over him that intimidated him, it was the icy look in Rafe's eyes that did.
Alexander’s usual bravado falters, and though he holds up his hands in a gesture of nonchalance, the gleam in his eyes fades. If it wasn’t Rafe’s towering height that made him take a step back, it was the icy, penetrating look in Rafe’s eyes. Alexander hesitates, his playful smirk faltering, eyes flickering between you and Rafe.
"Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to step on any toes." He glances at you with a wink before adding, "But you can’t blame a man for trying, right?" Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. His silence hangs heavy in the space between them, tension crackling like electricity. It’s clear that Alexander, for all his charm and wit, knows better than to push Rafe any further.
As soon as Alexander retreats, Rafe's shoulders remain stiff, his body radiating with tension. The darkness in his eyes lingers, the anger now fully redirected toward you. Without a word, his hand closes around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make it clear that this conversation isn’t over. He pulls you with him, weaving through the crowd and out of the grand ballroom, into the quieter, more secluded hallways of the estate.
The moment you’re alone, Rafe spins around to face you, his body towering over yours as he leans down, his breath warm and rapid against your ear. The fury in his gaze makes your stomach twist with both dread and excitement. "What the hell was that?" Rafe growls, his voice barely above a whisper but thick with anger. His grip on your wrist tightens just slightly as he looks down at you, eyes wild with accusation.
"Flirting with him right in front of me?" You lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a calmness you don’t quite feel. "It was just harmless fun, Rafe," you reply, though your voice lacks its usual conviction, "you’re the one who overreacted." "Harmless?" Rafe repeats, his voice growing even lower, his face so close now you can feel the heat of his hander.
"He was crossing the line, and frankly, so were you" Rafe steps closer, his body looming over you, his hand gripping your waist. "You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you? Or how you were playing along?" You swallow, your heart beating faster at the intensity in his eyes. "Maybe I was," you admit, your voice steady but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see how far I could push you. Like I said, it was harmless."
Rafe's grip on your waist tightens even further, his fingers pressing firmly into your side, the pressure bordering on painful. You let out a small groan, a sound that escapes involuntarily from the mix of discomfort and the charged intensity of the moment. The pain is sharp, a physical reminder of his anger and possessiveness, and you can’t help but shiver at the heat of his touch.
"I don't care if it was harmless," Rafe growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not playing those fucking games with me." Each word is punctuated with a barely restrained fury, his breath hot against your skin. You want to speak, to push back, but the fire in Rafe's eyes freezes you in place. The fierce protectiveness radiating from him mixes with his jealousy, overwhelming and intoxicating.
His hand moves from your waist to your hand, fingers brushing over the large diamond on your wedding ring. "Did you forget what this ring meant?" Rafe's voice is low, almost a growl, as he taps the diamond, each tap a reminder of the vow that binds you both. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shudder through you, your breath catching as his lips graze your ear once more.
You can feel the tension thick in the air between you, the hallway around you fading into insignificance as his words cut deep. "You’re mine," he whispers, his tone raw, dangerous, and resolute. "And I don’t share." Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of thrill and fear coursing through you at the intensity of his words. You glance down at the ring he’s tapping, a tangible symbol of everything that’s between you—love, control, obligation, desire. It’s suffocating, yet addictive.
You shiver as Rafe’s words linger in the air, thick with possessiveness. His grip on your wrist tightens, but it’s the way he looks at you that keeps you frozen in place—intense, unrelenting, a silent challenge burning in his eyes. You try to keep your composure, to push back against the overwhelming force of his jealousy. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice barely steady. "It was just a dance. It wouldn’t have meant anything."
"That’s not the fucking point," he snaps, his tone sharper now. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, almost forcing you to look up at him. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I saw the way you looked at him—like you wanted me to react." You swallow hard, but you refuse to break eye contact. "Maybe I did," you admit, your voice low but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see if you even care."
The words hang between you, and for a moment, Rafe’s expression shifts—his anger momentarily flickering into something else, something raw and vulnerable. But just as quickly, his walls slam back up, his face hardening again. He releases your wrist, but not before pulling you closer, his lips inches from yours, the tension crackling between you.
"Care?" he growls. "You think I don’t care when I’m right here, watching you entertain someone else? You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone forget it." You feel the possessiveness in his words like a pulse between you, and despite the storm raging inside him, there’s something about it that draws you in. His jealousy, his frustration—it’s all because of you, because deep down, beneath the cold exterior, he does care. You can feel it, even if he won’t admit it out loud.
Your voice softens, just enough to break through the tension. "I wasn’t trying to make you angry, Rafe." "You know that’s a lie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. His voice drops lower, and you can feel the intensity in his words. "But you succeeded. And I don’t like being tested." You glance down for a moment, trying to gather yourself, but when you look back up at him, your heart beats faster.
"Maybe I wanted to see if you still care. Lately… it feels like you’ve been distant." His jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a brief second, something softer flickers across his features—a trace of regret. But Rafe doesn’t back down, his hand still resting on your lower back, firm and possessive. "I’ve been busy," he mutters, but you know it’s not the full truth. You’re about to push him on it when he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your cheek.
"But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You should know that by now." You let the silence stretch between you, your body pressed against his as you absorb his words. His anger, his frustration, all boil down to the same thing—he doesn’t want to lose you, not to someone like Alexander or anyone else. "You don’t have to act so cold all the time, you know," you whisper, your voice soft but daring.
Rafe’s lips curl slightly into a smirk, though his eyes remain serious. "You think I’m cold?" "Most of the time." You challenge him, your tone laced with honesty. His hand moves from your back to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Then I’ll remind you," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "how I feel about you."
Before you can respond, Rafe leans in and captures your lips with his, the kiss fierce and possessive, like he’s trying to prove something—to himself, to you. His hand tightens around you, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you, every inch of his body pressing against yours. The kiss is raw, full of unspoken frustration, but also something deeper—something neither of you are ready to name.
When he finally pulls back, his breathing heavy, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. "Don’t ever doubt that you’re mine," he whispers, his voice ragged but full of conviction. Your breath comes in shallow, your heart racing from the intensity of it all. "And you’re mine," you murmur back, your fingers curling into his jacket, holding him close.
Rafe pulls you back into him, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Let’s get out of here. I’m done with this place." Without waiting for your response, he takes your hand and leads you out of the manor, his grip possessive, his pace quick. You follow silently, your heart racing, knowing that tonight’s encounter has stirred something deeper between you both—something raw and dangerous that neither of you can ignore any longer.
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the sun + the sand- pt. two - peach
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↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader
↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.
↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.
↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.
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You stood next to the fire, ruby red lips turned up into a smile as you laughed at something stupid one the two stooges had said. You had only come tonight to see Rafe, but as the minutes turned into hours and he still was nowhere to be found, you wondered if John B’s bed would make it sting any less – the promise of seeing Rafe was usually enough to numb everything else, but you couldn’t help to be hurt at his absence. He was the glue that held your broken heart together and tonight he was the hand that held the hammer as it crashed into the fragile glass of it. The jeans that clung to your waist in all the right ways were his favorite, you’d made sure to pick something out that would make you more appealing to the eye, to his eye. You weren’t an idiot, you knew you were beautiful, enough of the island boys had told you so. But, the one boy you wanted to hadn’t and you wondered sometimes if it was because he didn’t think you were. The self-conscious thoughts continued to bloom like flowers on a vine inside your head as you waited, pretending to laugh at Topper’s really bad jokes. You loved Topper, but he had never been funny and his constant trying made you want to gag.  
“I’m gonna get another drink.” 
You muttered, breaking the laughter that previously bellowed from deep within your belly. The boys nodded in your direction, saluting you with the cups in their hands as you made your way to the kegger. You stopped to stand in line and noted the girl in front of you had on a hot pink frilly tank top, one that you found rather beautiful and just as you went to tap her on the shoulder, you noticed Rafe wrap his arm around her from her side. She turned slightly and his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine. 
“Peach, what are you doing here?” 
He questioned, as if you hadn’t previously texted about meeting up in this exact spot. 
“Nothing, I was just leaving.” 
You spoke in a short manner, eyes locked on the ground again before you turned toward the trash can and threw your cup away. He didn’t chase after you like in the movies, though you wished he had and instead of wallowing in the despair that reality caused you, you went in search of your pogue prince. Rafe watched as you walked away, unsure of whether or not you wanted to be chased. He also wasn’t sure if he had the energy to chase you tonight. Would it be so wrong to look for love in someone else when you were never going to give him the time of day anyways? The thought left as quickly as it had come and he felt an immense amount of guilt for it, knowing that as selfish as he was, he could never stop loving you, not really. He watched your hips sway as you retreated from him and his eyes quickly darted locking eyes with none other than JJ Maybank as he stared at your figure crossing the beach in between sips out of a red solo cup. Rafe couldn’t put his finger on what it was, he just knew that the look JJ wore was sinister and something wasn’t right. 
-
You leaned up from the bed, your feet draping over the side as you planted them on the floor and moving to the wooden chair in the corner of John B’s room where your clothes lay. You wore his shirt, quickly taking it off as you slid your jeans and shirt back over your body. 
“Well that was fun.” 
He said with a sly smirk, laying on his side with one hand propping up his head. His floppy hair was dreamy and accentuated his features nicely, but it was nothing compared to Rafe’s. You pulled out your phone and texted Rafe, even though you were sure there was someone much more worthwhile lying underneath him. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about that detail at the moment, you just wanted to get away from the situation you were in. 
Peach:  It’s okay if you’re busy and can’t, but can you pick me up? 
“Yeah.” 
You finally responded, voice monotone, lacking any real sense of enjoyment. Because frankly, you weren’t enjoying it. John B was cute but five minutes in and he was cumming, not caring anything about your needs. You thought that after the first time, it couldn’t get worse so you continued seeing him, but you were wrong and you had yet to get any real release. You made your way out of the makeshift fishing shack and pulled up Rafe’s contact again as you made your way down the steps. 
Rafey: Sorry, I can’t. 
Rafe felt guilt rise in the bottom of his stomach, leaving you stranded. 
Peach: Okay :) 
You responded almost instantaneously and that worried him, the thought of you being so urgent for his answer led his brain down a rabbit hole. 
Rafey: I can send someone to get you. Send me your location. 
He replied, hoping that his offer would be enough to make you feel safe. 
Peach: it’s okay, i can walk 
The thought of you walking anywhere after eleven pm made him sick to his stomach, especially with the way JJ had previously been staring at you and speaking of JJ – where the fuck was he? He wondered as he looked around the party, unable to spot him. 
Rafey: Walk?? From where?? 
He questioned, bile rising up in his throat at the thought of you being vulnerable and unknowing of the danger that loomed in the night. 
Peach: John’s. 
You replied, but he already knew the answer. The Life 360 app on his phone giving your location away.
Rafey: Stay there, I’m coming. 
Peach: It’s okay, I don’t want to ruin your night. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow. 
The text made you uneasy, as you felt guilty ruining another night for him. You knew deep down he didn’t view it that way, but it didn’t make you feel any less shitty. 
Rafey: Dammit, y/n. Stay there. 
-
Like every other day, you didn’t listen to Rafe. Instead, you started your seven mile walk home, disappointed that Rafe had told you no. He had never told you no before, even when he was caught up with Ward, so it must’ve meant he was having a good time with the girl from the party. You shrugged it off, as you continued walking, the heels you had worn to the party leaving blisters on the backs of your heels like bruises against abused skin. You looked at your feet as you walked, trying not to let yourself wallow in the despair of it all. Though, you hoped that wherever Rafe was and whoever he was with, that he was happy. You didn’t have time to blink before you heard tires screech as they passed you, slamming on breaks quickly. You looked up, taking in the midnight blue truck that was etched into your brain – that would always linger like a tattoos kiss; it was Rafe and you smiled to yourself that he came. But, you were angry at yourself that you had ruined yet another night for him. You wondered why he hadn’t discarded you like everyone else and why he was always the hero of your story; you wondered if he always would be. You looked back and kept walking, deciding that the most selfish thing that you could do was get in the truck and while usually that wouldn’t bother you, you wouldn’t let it happen tonight. He turned his vehicle around, and began riding beside you on the pavement. 
“Sweetheart, get in the truck.” 
He spoke softly, yet it was a command and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You felt your knees grow weak, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him so you did what any self respecting simp would, you kept walking. 
“y/n, get in the truck.” 
He spoke again, with a deeper growl and more command. This was the voice he used during team huddles and when he was angry with Sarah. He had only used it on you a few times and the fact that he was using it on you tonight, meant that he was angry and the thought of him being angry at you brought tears to your eyes. You kept walking wanting the feeling of your skin crawling to cease immediately. He watched as your shoulders slumped, unsure of what was plaguing you, he just knew something was wrong. So, he threw the truck in park and climbed down, catching up to your moving frame. It wasn’t hard with the blisters that littered your feet. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him, taking in your flushed cheeks and the tears that were cascading down them, he placed your cheeks in his hands. 
“What’s the matter, peach?” 
He asked, his voice as soft as it could possibly be. You swallowed thickly before attempting to look down at your feet, but he stopped you, bringing your chin up with his forefinger and thumb. 
“Peach, baby, what’s the matter? Did John B hurt you?” 
Your eyes went wide in response and you quickly shut down that notion, knowing what Rafe was capable of when it came to the people he loved. 
“Uh, no. No, not really. I hurt myself.” 
He looked confused as he scoured your body for cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 
“Where, sweetheart? Why didn’t you call? Did you fall? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” 
He asked urgently, the words flying from his mouth like a bat flying out of hell’s grasp. 
“No, I’m fine. I mean emotionally, I hurt myself.” 
“What happened?” 
He questioned. 
“Nothing that I didn’t already expect.” 
You muttered. 
“Why do you let these boys treat you so badly, sweetheart?” 
He questioned, kindly, dropping his large frame in front of your face, pushing the hair away from your face. 
“Because no one else wants me.” 
You whispered into the cool October air, shivering and Rafe took off his pullover, draping it over your form. 
“What did you just say?” 
He asked, shocked at your revelation. You couldn’t meet his eye, swallowing thickly as you dropped your gaze to your feet. 
“Come on, Rafe. I know what people say.” 
You said, flatly. 
“And what do they say, peach?” 
He questioned, innocently, though, probing you to be vulnerable with him. 
“That I’m a – you know what.” 
You grimaced as the words left your lips. 
“What do they say, y/n?” 
He asked, more urgently. 
“That I’m a slut, okay? You’re not stupid, you know what they say and you know that’s why no one but pogues like me. That’s why I don’t even like myself!” 
You finally shouted back at him, frustratedly as you cried. 
“Hey, come on, you know that’s not true, Peach.” 
He cooed, pulling you into his warm embrace and placing a kiss on your temple. You couldn’t do anything but cling to him in that moment, scared that he’d see you for what you truly were, scared that he'd change his mind. For a moment, you had the boy you loved in your arms and you didn’t want him to go away again. 
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vidalswife · 2 days
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Open Fire
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word count: I.8k
— pairing: agatha harkness / wanda maximoff, post wandavision, pre aaa.
Summary: Its been months since Wanda Maximoff defeated Agatha Harkness in Westview and left her powerlessly trapped in a fake persona. What happens when the brunette witch somehow escapes, finding Wanda in her seclusion. An even bigger question, will Wanda team up with her to accomplish the end to Agatha's plan, and if so, what will happen as the two get closer?
author's note: this chapter does not contain any pg13+ material. however in the future of the story, there will be mature themes, so if you are a minor i advise you not to interact. on another note, i wrote this beginning to a fanfiction while waiting for agatha's spinoff to release. i am aware my fic has been stolen and published on another platform, however it is my writing, as you will see, parts of it were edited out. if you would like proof of ownership i shall surely message you. it will not be based on the show, but possibly could have elements of it! and in order not to spoil the plot i will leave it at that. <3
The redhead smiled at the knock on her door, expecting a hiker or a mountaineer to be waiting for her, she called out a quick "I’ll be right there", rushing to grab the refreshments she typically offered to those passing by.
Ever since she left Westview, since defeating Agatha, she’d been in the mountains of Slovakia. A small cabin was all she needed, it had a room, a kitchen, a small area with couches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. She crafted it on her own. She had finally reached the full potential of her power, at least she thought she did, and she used it to start anew. She did not want to be found, and she didn’t need anyone, but still, when hikers or tourists came around, she enjoyed the company. She would bake them pastries and bread every now and then. Agatha taught her to bake, but then again, Agatha taught her a lot.
When Wanda was growing up, she didn’t learn to bake or cook, but the witch she left behind in Westview taught her so many lessons about living in a mortal world. She’d hated her, for the most part, but there were so many things in her new life she had to credit to the brunette with mad curls.
As she placed the bowl of freshly baked bread upon the table, and the lemonade in a pitcher to the side, she checked her hair in the mirror planted on the wall, when she was satisfied, she opened the door.
And with a sudden flush, in the very instant, her heart sank, and she slammed the door.
_________________
It couldn’t be happening, I mean Wanda knew she couldn’t play keep-away forever with the other woman, but it sure as hell seemed like the best temporary option.
She turned with her back against the door, closing her eyes and exhaling a stress filled sigh.
”Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” said 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 voice. Even though there was no mistaking who owned the captivating tone, Wanda wished that when she opened her eyes, she would wake up, and she would somehow be in a dream.
But alas, when she did open her eyes, reality hit the redhead like a semi-truck.
Standing in front of her was Agatha Harkness, the now powerless, crazy, curly haired raveness. The ‘evil’ witch she had defeated some time ago.
Wanda instantly resorted to using her magic, sending magical cuffs around the woman’s wrists, to which Agatha simply chuckled, “I’m starting to get the notion this wasn’t as pleasant of a surprise as i had hoped.”
”Oh, really? You think so?” spat the ginger, a soft hand now palming her forehead. She figured the witch would return one day, rise again and try to get her powers back. However she never figured it would happen only months later. She may have been the most powerful being to exist, but there was no doubting the strength of the other witch in the room, or anyone she could have used to free herself.
”Wanda, dear, these cuffs aren’t necessary” she reminded, hinting that she no longer had powers.
Wanda's brow furrowed, her eyes flooding to the sight of the cuffed and powerless brunette in her living area. She wondered about removing restraints, questioned the probability that Agatha knew other ways to harm her, and she figured it was best to keep them.
”Listen doll, I haven't come to harm you, I've come to help you.” she spoke, and Wanda slowly inched closer, tilting her head as her lips parted, in an attempt to suggest something that would not come out. It was like the woman read her mind, one of the powers she had was the ability to manipulate, interact with, and read minds, but that had only been with those in Westview. . and there was no way she had power again.
”How did you know what I was thinking, Agatha?” she said, tone cruel and interrogative. With the settlement of these words, she was inches from the other witch, her expressions clearly showing some form of confusion and anger combined. Agatha loved playing with the gingerette’s mind. It was almost an impossible thing to avoid.
”Wanda Wanda Wanda” she spoke, a long pause shadowing the calling of the woman's name. Wanda noticed how intently the witch was watching her, observing her, studying her. With a smooth and subtle smirk, she began to speak again, “You can’t ever make things easy for yourself, can you?” Agatha slowly began to move, raising her hands from behind her back, which were free from wanda’s cuffs, almost as if they had never existed.
Wanda stood lifeless, frozen and in shock. Slowly she began backing away, realizing that this meant 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.
”How did you–” she was cut off by a hand raising, a dim and small light of purple emerging from tan fingertips. Agatha whispered an incantation, flicked her wrist, and Wanda was forced upon the door, unable to move.
The witch inched closer, smirking at the woman’s confused look. “You're so. . dull. thinking you could take away 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of my power, and keep me trapped in your silly little persona?” she chuckled, “It took less than a week for me to break the curse you put on me, less than a month to gain some of what I lost. . I could’ve killed you, you know. I've been watching you, Wanda.” The redhead shivered at the thought of just dying, no warning, to the hands of Agatha Harkness, albeit. It made her think of Pietro, how he was dead, and never coming back.
”Oh, but don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you” she spoke, closer to wanda than ever before. Wanda had conflicting feelings towards Agatha. They had shared a friendship, of course, when Agatha was Agnes, and Wanda was “evil”. No matter the details, the two witches had built a rapport with one another. An unspoken understanding was present, so Wanda believed her when she said she wasn’t 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 planning to kill her.
”If you really want to help, with whatever twisted, fucked up idea you have of what I ‘need’, let me out of this hold.” Wanda shot a smile at the brunette, and Agatha simply tilted her head in consideration, before repeating another incantation.
The binding yet blinded force was now constructing her body, pressuring her more into the door. She yelped, wincing at the pain. Part of her wanted to use her magic, but she had learned it would do no good the last time she tried.
Agatha had a devilish smile on her lips, one that Wanda knew too well.
“Please” she winced. The older woman only chuckled mischievously, before flinging her wrist left.
As the redhead felt the force upon her body release, she sighed. Part of her wanted to run up and punch the other witch, mainly for imposing on her life so soon into her newly found peace (for the most part). Wanda instead shot an angry look at the brunette, and Agatha replied with an obvious smirk and a raise of her eyebrows.
”I'm sorry to have wasted you a trip, but I don’t want any help from 𝙮𝙤𝙪, and I never will” she remarked, walking away from the essence of the woman, to her kitchen counter. She grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge, pouring a glass of cold water. It was risky turning her back on such a powerful person, especially after refusing an offer, but there was some form of trust she felt, something unexplainable that she only felt with her.
It was quiet for a moment, until finally she heard the heels softly embracing the wood floor.
click.. click.. click.. click.
They stopped, and Wanda dismissed the notion of turning around. She could hear the smooth breaths Agatha took, so close. Wanda's hand clutched her glass, she planted the other on the counter.
Agatha's arms went past Wanda's waist, and she laid her hands over both of Wanda's. The younger woman reveled in the touch, it was the only human contact besides that of talking that she’d had in months. Agatha's body was pressing into her back, and she sighed into the touch. Her awareness of the situation only grew as she felt the woman’s lips brush along the skin of her neck.
The scarlet witch had always felt.. something when it came to her mentor. Her feelings about the woman were uncharted and complicated. She felt both comfort and edge, like she was safe but not secure. And to have her hands on her own, even if not interlinked, it got Wanda’s mind racing, as well as her heart. Heat flushed to her cheeks as she realized that the raveness could probably hear her heart beating.
”𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧” Agatha whispered, her voice husky and low. Her lips were close to the redhead’s ears, and a soft moan escaped Wanda's lips. She felt so many things, so much confusion at why the things Agatha said made her want to lean into the woman and let her take control. Whatever great things the brunette had in mind were probably wicked. . but when Wanda turned her head and looked into those brown eyes, she couldn’t say no. She tried, opening her mouth to refuse and tell her to leave, but nothing came from her lips.
This made a smirk run onto Agatha’s face, and she held the eye contact that the redhead initiated. At the notice of the woman's still hanging lip, she softly inched her own lips closer.
The witch had always intimidated those around her, and it was no different with Wanda, except the contact was far more intense, and almost like a battle for dominance. Agatha’s lips brushed against the gingerette's, and Wanda’s head tilted to the side, if they were to kiss, the angle would be perfect. Wanda wanted that, she desired it as she desired the air in her lungs. She closed her eyes, waiting for the embrace, when Agatha softly hummed. The brunette pulled her lips away, and found the dip in Wanda’s neck. A soft, but hot kiss was planted on her neck, and the younger woman’s head leaned back. With a smirk, Agatha took the glass from Wanda's hand, and backed away from the woman.
She took a sip from the glass, winking at her ginger witch.
”Don’t be a fool, Wanda” She playfully remarked, setting down the glass beside the redhead, and retreating from the woman.
Wanda had never been so confused, yet had so much clarity in her life. She didn't want to let Agatha stay, or help with whatever she desired, but those lips, those hands, that voice.. they clouded every piece of rationale in her.
Come tomorrow morning, Wanda Maximoff would team up with Agatha Harkness, and no one would know about the moment they had shared that night.
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cynicatalyst · 5 days
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Bit of a wip, but couldn’t get these two out of my head.
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Thought process was Jesse visiting an old friend/lover after the events of his second movie perchance…
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.
Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.
Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?
He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??
Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.
The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.
Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??
He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.
Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.
——
“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.
Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.
“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”
Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.
“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”
Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.
Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.
He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.
(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)
“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”
“I kept them in line!”
Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.
“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”
“I-”
“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”
“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.
“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”
“Fine! Fine!”
——
And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.
Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.
In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.
Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.
The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…
——
“So, you’re The Phantom.”
“And you’re Sionis.”
Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.
Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.
“How did you get in here?”
Danny shrugged. “Walked.”
Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.
“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”
“So, you’re a Meta.”
Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”
Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.
“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.
“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”
Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.
“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.
“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”
“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”
Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”
“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”
Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.
“I’ve got her, Phantom.”
Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.
“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”
And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.
But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.
——
Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”
From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?
But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!
Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.
On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.
Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.
Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.
He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.
He sipped his drink as he waited.
“Batman.”
“Phantom.”
“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”
Batman stayed silent.
“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.
“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.
“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”
Batman snarled.
“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.
Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.
“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”
“You-”
“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”
Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.
“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”
Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.
“… Apologies.”
“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”
Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”
Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.
Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.
“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.
Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.
“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”
“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.
Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”
Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.
“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.
Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.
“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”
Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.
“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.
“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.
——
“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”
“Hn.”
“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”
Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.
——
The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Remy fic for @littlekidsteve
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It has only been a little while since you and Remy had managed to escape the void along with Electra, Laura and Blade before biding them farewell, all the while you and Remy took a long walk as you both tried to figure out what you were going to do now that you were free.
Out of everyone you and Remy were the closet and so the idea of saying goodbye to one another after everything felt wrong, Remy had become apart of you as you became a vital part of him, so much so to the point neither of you could fathom an life without the other being apart of it some way or another.
‘Got any plans now that we’ve escaped the void?’ You asked him and he hums while shuffling his playing cards, a habit you noticed he had whether he was in need of a distraction or in deep thought.
‘I have been in the void for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever get out mon Cher, nor would get out so I made my inescapable prison a home, so all this is…rather new to me.’ Remy admits as he looked over at you with a soft expression before nudging you with his shoulder. ‘You have lived a life before the void, I think you’d be better suited for that question.’
You chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck. ‘Yeah well I’m pretty sure they’ve pruned it by now, so I’m just as lost as you are and I haven’t been in the Void nearly as long as you have.’ You told him and Remy couldn’t help but chuckle as he went to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. ‘Then we shall find a way to navigate our new life, together.’ He promised as he then brought your hand up to his lips before softly kissed it.
‘You promise?’ You asked.
‘I promise mon Cher.’ Remy echoed and suddenly everything felt like it was going to be okay, the void was long behind you both as the future was on the horizon, waiting for your both to take it
And soon enough with time and patience you and Remy found yourselves in your own little apartment -that was funnily enough not far from where Wade, Blind Al and Logan lived- and living a quiet, domestic lifestyle, just like you had wanted for a long time but couldn’t due to certain circumstances. You couldn’t help but smile softly upon first seeing Remy with an peaceful expression on his face as he slept, he looked beautiful and at ease with everything that you found yourself admiring him in silence, not wanting to ruin this moment by sneezing or shifting your weight and waking him by accident.
‘Wade is right. You are beautiful.’ You muttered lowly as you memorised his face and the way the light from the window made his skin glow an almost golden hue, making him look ethereal, as you took the time to appreciate the way his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Remy was a handsome man and you were in no shape or form to deny it when you were more then aware of this face since the moment you met, but it wasn’t his physical appearance that drew you in but more or less his heart and his ability to light up anything that he touched, and soon enough you found yourself falling for the Cajun Frenchman more then you’d originally thought.
Remy has consumed your every waking and sleeping thought, claimed your body and heart as his own with how his eyes never seemed to leave you the moment you entered the room, smiling at you warmly before cross over to stand next to you for the rest of the day while occasionally showing off a new card trick he learnt. Even during combat Remy would stay close by to keep you safe when he felt that someone was getting too close for comfort by throwing one of his kinetically charged playing cards at them, and when you look over at him he just winks at you and continues the fight.
‘I can sense you watching me mon Cher.’ Remy said as he smiles cheekily, opening one eye to look at you as he brought a hand behind your head, pulling you in for a brief but sweet kiss before pulling away to look at you. ‘Am I really as beautiful as you say?’ He adds in a whisper as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear your conversation.
‘You can’t be blind to your own beauty can you Remy?’ You asked as you moved a hand to rest upon his chest, tapping your fingers against his skin in an unheard rhythm.
‘I’m not, I just want to hear you say it.’ Remy replied as he found his eyes wandering across your face with fondness and admiration. You couldn’t help but laugh as you rested your head against his chest, nuzzling into him. ‘You are indeed beautiful Remy Lebeau, the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on.’ You admit as you look at him, pressing a kiss to his chin as you felt his arms tighten on you, restraining you from moving away from him.
‘You flatter me Cher, but it is you who’s the most beautiful.’ Remy says as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the shampoo and conditioner you used and closing his eyes, never having the luxury of experiencing peace before in his life but finding himself falling in love with it as fast as he did with you. Remy felt as though he could stay in this bed forever with you but knew with your plans for later today he wouldn’t, though that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to keep you in his arms.
‘Wade, Logan, Laura and their friends are coming over soon.’ You murmured.
‘I know.’ Remy relied.
‘We should get up soon.’ You continued.
‘I know.’ Remy repeated as he kissed your head again, cuddling you further into his chest. ‘We’ll get up soon, but for now can we just…stay here, please Cher.’ He adds in a plea and you couldn’t help but feel yourself slipping into sleep the longer you stayed in Remy’s comforting and strong arms.
‘I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.’ You said as you nuzzled yourself into his neck, kissing it. ‘Then we’ll have to…to…wake.’ Before you could finish your sentence you had found yourself fast asleep as Remy smiled down at you. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind Cherie, they’ll understand.’ He says before joining you in dream land.
Bonus:
‘Where the fuck are they?!’ Wade shouted as he, Logan, Laura, Al, dogpool and the rest of his friends stood outside in the hallway to yours and Remy’s apartment after banging on the door for the past five minutes.
‘They’re probably still asleep, best we leave them be before we fucking wake the rest of the apartment complex.’ Logan said, side eyeing Wade as he sifted the welcome gifts in his arms.
Wade pouts and just as they were about to leave, a rugged and scruffy looking you and Remy opened the door to greet them as Wade laughs. ‘You two looked like as though we’ve interrupted something between you two.’ Wade the leaned towards you to whisper. ‘Is the French dick that good?’ You glared at him as you flicked him on the forehead, watching him as he winced and rubbed his forehead with a pout.
‘We may or may not have overslept thanks to someone.’ You nudged Remy in the side as he smiles cheekily and brings an arm to your waist, tugging you into his side. ‘Guilty as charged.’ He said proudly as you both stepped aside for everyone to enter your shared apartment before joining them, happy to have known such weird yet beautiful people.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 9 months
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beautiful mess | f. odair
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summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc
notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3
“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”
His playful words didn’t register in your mind.
Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.
“Sweetheart?”
Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.
A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.
That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.
Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.
“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.
A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.
“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”
All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”
You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.
“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”
Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.
Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….
“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”
Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.
He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.
Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.
Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.
“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”
You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.
“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.
I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”
Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.
You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.
“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.
“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”
You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”
He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”
He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.
What is love without a little suffering?
His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.
You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.
So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.
“Always,” he whispered in return.
Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.
“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”
Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.
Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.
“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”
You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”
He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”
“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”
In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.
The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.
It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.
You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."
He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”
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rottenblur · 9 months
Text
Post workout pump|A.ANDERSON
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Abby x fem reader 2.3k
Summary: Your gym rat Tinder date isn’t one to not kiss on the first date, a coffee date is much more interesting with her.
WARNINGS: public shit, public fingering??? Dirty talk, Abby being bold as hell, head!! Fingering, quick mention of that liquor. Fucking on the first date.
Abby’s Tinder profile was simple, a couple of gym rat pictures, and a couple cute candid ones someone had taken of her with a background of beautiful scenery. The one that made you swipe on her was a picture of her smiling in the forest, normally you wouldn’t go for “outdoorsy” people, you wanted someone you could comfortably rot away with.
It was her fucking smile. The way that her hair practically glowed in the sunlight peaking through the trees, how her freckles complimented every feature on her face. It wasn’t just her looks though, you weren’t that shallow. Her bio was simple, simple in a way it didn’t seem like she was faking it for people to like her.
“Will fight for you.” And you believed it with every inch of your body, she looked like fought off bears for a living. She could break you in half, part of you wanted her to.
Your conversation on the app was short, you gave her your number pretty fast, I mean she asked for it.
You got a text from a random number quickly after you gave it to her.
(7xx) 8xx-6xxx: Hey beautiful.
You replied quickly.
You: Hey.. this abby?
The typing bubbles popped up immediately, she responded fast and used punctuation, which was rare. In your experience, and probably rare to everyone on dating apps. To be honest, this was your first time on a dating app, you had too much on your plate to even think about dating since high school.
Abby: [IMAGE ATTACHED]
Abby: Sure is.
The picture was a live photo in a gym mirror, she had dumbbells resting by her feet, her body covered in a tank top and loose basketball shorts. Her muscles were huge, you didn’t think someone could be that strong, the sweat making them shiny didn’t help how hard you were staring right now.
You: oh my god…
That’s all you can get out, you have no thoughts.
You: i’m blushing
You throw your phone, you’ve only been talking to her for maybe an hour and yet she already has you wrapped around her finger.
The text bubbles pop up, she’s typing.
Abby: Aw, such a sweet girl, already blushing for me.
If you weren’t blushing before, you were now. You couldn’t stand another minute not being with her.
You: are you busy today? I need to see you
Text bubbles pop up, then disappear, come back then disappear again. Read, for ten minutes. Were you moving too fast? You put your phone down, tidying up your room to distract yourself from the stress. You get into the shower, your phone on the sink counter for music. You wash your hair when your phone starts ringing, fuck.
You grab the towel hanging up, drying off your hands and step out of the shower to pick up your phone, it’s her. You press the green accept button and put the phone up to your ear, pushing your wet hair out of the way.
“Hey.” She says. Her voice, oh my fuck, her voice. It was gentle but so heavy with intent, she sounded like she only spoke if she meant it.
“Hi.” You respond back, wrapping the towel around your body and stepping out of the bathroom to make sure she heard you well.
“God, you sound adorable. I’m not busy, just at the gym right now but I’m free in thirty minutes if you wanna go for coffee.” She says, you can hear the dumb bells banging in the back now.
Your mouth falls open, she really wants to see you? A date? Today? You forget to speak.
“Yeah, yeah please. Where to?” You respond back.
You hear her laugh slightly, then take a breath. “I’ll text you the address beautiful, you’ll like it I know you will.” God people making decisions for you was suddenly so hot.
You agree and giggle, uncontrollably. “Bye bye.”
“See ya.” She says then hangs up. Fuck you were nervous.
You get a text from her, the address was a small locally owned coffee shop just down the street from you, maybe she lived close. Surprisingly you had never been there before, maybe you could have met her sooner if you stepped out of your comfort zone more often, you would have met her sooner.
Twenty minutes had passed, you got back into the shower, finishing it and getting ready. Drying your hair and throwing on a cute fitting outfit, something easy, or just easy access, hey you weren’t against doing stuff on the first date, especially not with her.
You walk to the coffee shop, texting her when you arrive at the front doors, her assuring you she was already there. She was early, you liked that.
You walk inside and that's when you see her. She was in the back, in a booth manspreading under dimly lit lights. You walk over towards her, her hands set on the table, fiddling with a stir stick. She looks up and sees you, her blue eyes light up. She stands up, she towers over you. You look up at her, her freckles are even cuter in person.
“Hey beautiful, you look you know..beautiful.” She says looking you up and down. You smile at her muttering a greeting back. You were almost shaking, she was perfect, everything you could have ever wanted.
“You want a drink? I’ll order, just finished mine.” She says, placing a hand on your upper arm, it engulfed your arm in full. You nod and tell her your order. She smiles at you and walks off to order, you sit down scooting to the inside. A one-sided booth, leaving no choice but to sit right next to her, her boldness was attractive.
She comes back, placing your drink on the table in front of you, scooting herself right next to you placing hers next to yours. You pick up your drink taking a sip, as she lays her arm on the booth behind your back spreading her legs, getting comfortable. “Was that picture from today?” You refer to the picture she sent you earlier. She nods turning her head to look at you.
Her strawberry blond hair slightly damp presumably from a shower, her blue t-shirt clung to her arms, her jeans tight to her legs. God.
“You like what you see?” She says tilting her head at you, looking you up and down in return. You nod shyly looking away as you fiddle with the end of your skirt. She catches that, flicking your hands away, replacing them with hers. “You wear this for me? I like it, looks really good on you sweetheart.”
God the pet name, her hands on you, on your clothes. Her compliments, she has you melting. “I wore it for you Abby.” You say looking at her, she looks up from your legs to your eyes. She smiles, rubbing your cheeks, keeping one hand on your thigh. “God you’re adorable, I got you blushing already.” She takes her hand off your cheek and takes a sip of her drink.
“What made you want to talk to me?” She says as she rubs her thumb on your engulfed thigh. You’re fighting to not squeeze your thighs together. You look at her lips, and her eyes then respond. “You’re pretty, I mean you’re hot, you’re intimidating it’s attractive.” You say. She nods, humming a response to you.
“Well, I thought about how fucking cute you’d look with my head between your thighs.” She said it so innocently, her hand moving up under your skirt, you couldn’t handle it your trap her hand by squeezing your thighs together.
She clicks her tongue at you tapping your thigh with her free thumb for you to open your legs. You submit to her order, opening your legs for her. Her finger grazes your clothed clit, your panties wet from her teasing. You look at her and finally respond. “I’d like that, alot.” Your cheeks were burning up, your whole body was burning up with need.
She leans in closer to you, whispering into your ear. “You’re so perfect, so fucking ready for me, so beautiful.” A whine falls out of your mouth, uncontrollably. Her fingers continue dancing from your clit to your slit, teasing you no, torturing you.
You place one elbow on the table, the other gripping Abby’s thigh, you were dripping onto your skirt it was unbearable. You finally mutter out exactly what you need to say.
“I need you Abby, I need you.” You say. She pulls her hand away, awwing in response, turning your head towards hers with a grip on your chin. She smiles and shakes her head. “Ask nicely beautiful.” You lick your lips and nod. “I need you please, please Abby.
She lets go of your face, standing up and holding out a hand for you, you take it letting her pull you up out of the booth. Your legs were weak, even trembling, she noticed this and smirked at you.
She drove the two of you to her apartment, so fucking close to yours, her hand on your thigh the whole way there, her glances never made you blush any less each time. She parks her car and guides you up to her apartment with your hand clutched all the way there.
She unlocks her door, leading you in first, she walks in behind you, and kicks off her shoes. She grabs you, pushing you against the door connecting your lips with hers, locking the door with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist.
She pulls away, looking at you with those lustful blue eyes, they looked much brighter when you first met her but now there's nothing darker. She locks lips with you picking you up and carrying you towards her bedroom, her hands full of ass.
She’s mirroring your whimpers into the kiss with grunts, your arms wrapped around her neck. As she enters the bedroom with your legs wrapped around her, you fiddle with her braid, undoing it and running your fingers through the loose strands.
She throws you down onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking behind your back. Your quick breaths are loud in the quiet room, Abby stares are you eating you up with her eyes. “What do you want beautiful?” she says to you, stripping her jeans off revealing her grey boxer briefs, a wet spot that catches your eye. Apparently, you're not the only one worked up.
When you don't respond she hums a “hmm?” to you pulling you from your thoughts. “I want you, I want to feel you everywhere Abby.” A quiet grunt comes from the back of her throat. She leans to you, putting her knees on the bed and caging you in with her arms. She kisses you, her tongue tangled with yours. She pulls away to strip her shirt from her body, tossing it aside.
You admire her body, stripped from her tight t-shirt her muscles look even bigger. She places your hands on her shoulders pulling your shirt off. She leans down to unhook your bra and kisses you.
She scans your body, her eyes make you want her even more. She kisses your lips, pushing her knee in between your thighs applying the perfect amount of friction as she moves to make out with you.
She kisses down your bare chest sucking purple spots all the way down your stomach, your neck to your hips littered in hickeys. “So fucking good for me.” She mutters out as she flips the hem of your skirt up onto your stomach. She kisses the inside of your thighs, whines and whimpers falling out of your mouth with need.
She leaves marks leading up to your panties, now even wetter with want. She pushes them to the side, taking a quick lick and sucking on your clit then looking up at you. Her eyes, her face from the angle could make you cum right there and then.
“You taste so fucking good beautiful.” You were melting. She attaches her mouth back to your clit spiralling circles with her tongue, holding your hips down with one hand.
She rubs your hip as you fight to ride her face, take control. She sucks your clit and pushes two fingers inside, filling you so well. Her fingers found places inside you, you never knew existed.
Her tongue quickens it's pace as so does her fingers pumping in and out of you. Moans fall from the back of your throat, you can hear Abby’s grunts vibrating against your clit.
She disconnects her mouth, pumping and curling her fingers to the perfect spot at a brutal pace, she looks up at you, arched back gripping the blanket. “Such a good fucking girl.” Her praises push you over the edge. She connects her lips back pulling you quickly to your climax. You look down to her, as your thoughts dissapear.
You pulse all over her fingers, and she pulls them out, kissing your thigh. She looks back at you, as she sucks you off her fingers. “So good sweetheart, so goddamn good.” She crawls her back up to your lips kissing you gently.
She whispers into your ear. “You make such pretty noises for a slut.” That shocked you, after all those praises, she degraded you. It had you ready for round two all in eight words.
She lays next to you, looking you up and down. “Want a drink?” She asks.
You nod, she gets up tossing you her t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, a pair of black boxers. They were loose resting on your hips as the shirt went to mid thighs.
She walks out of the room, and you follow her sitting on the couch as she pulls a bottle of dark liquor from her bar cart. You lay down, she sits down placing your legs on top of hers passing you the drink. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at you, placing her hand on your thigh.
“Wanna stay the night?”
A/N: AHHHH I wrote this really fast if there are any spelling mistakes/ grammar mistakes LOOK AWAY. I love Abby thank you.
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ellemarianne555 · 13 days
Text
Mother Issues
Summary: Aegon’s new wife is a Hightower and he isn’t sure how he feels about this. Fluffy smut.
Author’s note: this is so fluffy and self-indulgent and my first time ever writing smut so if it’s cringey and too much plot I’m sorry! Please leave feedback, I know my grammar can be iffy sometimes xoxo
Content warning: mdni, slight mommy kink, implied breeding kink, severe praise kink, heavy mommy issues and mentions of alcoholism and childhood neglect. Aegon is a dick for half of this but don’t worry he comes right in the end (literally lol).
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⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
With your long wavy hair and big unblinking eyes, the court had been whispering about how much you resembled a young Alicent since you were a girl. Your father was a brother to Otto, and rumours had long been rife that Otto had laid with your mother and had her married hastily to his kin to cover the scandal. You knew this wasn’t true though, as your mother was devoted to your father and you possessed his wit and kindness as well as your grandmother’s looks that had seduced Viserys into making your cousin, Alicent, his wife.
The rumours and gossip became even more pronounced when you were betrothed to Aegon. The sulky young King with his disheveled blonde hair and the pouty lips stained permanently red from the wine he had been known to imbibe. Aegon had thrown a fit when he heard you were to be married as he petulantly resented anything to do with his distant mother and belittling grandfather. He barely talked to you on your wedding night, since he had gotten so drunk that when he stumbled into your bed early in the morning he was unable to perform his marital duties. Flushing red, sweating and swearing to all who would listen that it was his wife and her Hightower features that were to blame; you two become even more distant as you became married in name alone.
So you kept to your chambers, armed with your ladies in waiting and mountains of mind-numbing embroidery to hide from the shame of a husband who couldn’t stand you. You heard that Aegon was busy with his whores down in the Street of Silk and though your ladies pushed you to take a handsome young lover, you were committed to the Faith and your role as a dutiful wife.
Time passed and you seemed to see even less of your husband as he struggled with the roles and responsibilities of being in charge of the realm. You heard snippets of fights and arguments, the rare times you ventured outside of your apartments for more reading materials, between Aegon and his councillors as he fought to have his voice heard and opinions valued.
Doors banged and shouting echoed down the hallway to your bed chamber as you heard arguing through the cracks of the stone wall.
“But it isn’t my fault!”, one voice said as another voice became more clear.
“How can you expect anyone to take you as their King when you can’t even prove yourself as a man?” Angrily responded another voice, that you recognised as that of your mother-in-law.
Your husband and his mother were arguing. About you. In front of your bed chamber.
Suddenly the door flew open as Aegon burst in, scowling and seething with anger.
“Are you happy now? I’m in her damn chambers and I’ll fuck her until you have all the precious heirs you want!”.
You nearly stabbed stabbed your thumb with a needle as you jumped out of your perch of a wide cushion nestled into the window. Fortunately your ladies were not there to witness your mouth open and close in sheer shock as your husband entered.
For not the first time, you wondered how miserable your life could be that when the man you were married to entered your room, that it was as shocking as though if Vhagar had started wearing gowns and demanding weekly tea parties in their honour. Shaking the image out of your mind, you could see your husband grit his teeth in frustration.
The door clanged heavily behind you and you heard short angry footsteps disappear down the hallway until you were both alone. For the second time in your marriage since you had stood at the altar, you were alone with your husband. But for all his cruel words that had passed around the court and confined you to these chambers in humiliation, you weren’t scared of him. He looked slightly small in fact. With his lips trembling and eyes glistening he looked more like a furious king and more like a lost boy.
He scowled at you, with his lower lips jutting out in such a way that you felt more like wiping his cheeks then scolding him for the embarrassment and isolation he had put you through.
“I’ll have to stay here.” He said petulantly. “For at least a few hours until Mother thinks my duty has been performed.”
He looked over to where your abandoned embroidery lay and his upper lip curled in disdain.
“I see there’s nothing to entertain myself with, so I might as well sleep.” He looked pointedly at you upon saying the word “entertain”, but again it seemed to came off as less hurtful but sulky and strangely self-conscious.
“What do you do to pass the time in here? Seeing as you never bother to come to court.”
Your mouth gaped open again as you realised that your husband was actually talking to you for once, instead of at you.
“W-well, I embroider.”
His eyes rolled nearly to the ceiling.
“A-and I read.” Your voice choking in your throat as his red rimmed stare snapped to your trembling lips.
“Really? I thought it wasn’t becoming of such a high-born lady to entertain herself with such foolish pursuits.”He said mockingly, and instead of rising to his disdain, you laughed.
“It seems I am not the only one in this marriage who amuses themselves with frivolity.”
His nostrils flared in anger as you realised that in your attempt to jest, you had instead struck a delicate nerve.
“I am not as foolish as you or this court believe you know. I have a great interest in my family’s history and that of the realm. Of course everyone just assumes that there is nothing else to me but the drinking and the whoring.”His mouth curled upwards in a way that showed you he had long been used to demeaning himself in front of others .
“I’m sorry.” You paused hesitantly, “I just don’t know how to talk to you. It seems like we are more strangers than when I had never met you.”
“Well, you don’t have to treat me as if I were an idiot. I get enough of that from my own kin.”
Again, you felt a pit form in your stomach as you thought how it must of been to grow up feeling lesser than. You had had not exactly an idyllic childhood in Old Town, but you knew your parents loved you. Even if they were misguided enough to agree to betroth you to a man who clearly hated you.
You tried again, “I’m sorry. I also find the stories of our history fascinating.”You held out a worn copy of folklore and fairytales from under one of the cushions from your childhood, one of the only things you had managed to take with you from home.
“You’re reading children’s stories?” Aegon scoffed.
“They’re not really stories at all. They introduce the stories of our past to children so they take an interest in the way things came to be. My favourite is how Visenya Targaryen and how she conquered the Vale.”
“Really?” Aegon said catching himself quickly before he sounded too interested.
“When I was younger I always dreamed of being like her, so strong and brave.”
“So did I.” He said almost begrudgingly.
“It must be hard. To grow up with a brother who often thinks less of you and diminishes your accomplishments.”
Aegon blinked, again surprised at how this woman who he had pushed away so harshly seemed to know him so well.
“I was just finishing this chapter. I could read it aloud? If that is alright with you, your grace.”
He nodded stiffly and sat at the edge of the window seat as though he were afraid to come any closer.
You patted the worn cushion next to him and smiled, “I don’t bite, my lord.” You teased. Again a smile seemed to escape from him as he slowly inched closer.
As the chapter progressed and the pages turned you noticed that your husband was falling asleep, first on your shoulder then burrowing down to your lap. You stiffened, unsure of whether to wake him but you decided that he seemed in need of a good rest and slowly wound his straggly blond hair through your fingers.
Before you had realised, you too had drifted to sleep. Only woken by a soft chiming of the bells from the Sept declaring that it was late at night, and a rather peculiar stiffness poking into your thigh.
Your eyelashes fluttered open, only to look down and see your husband, mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully. You realised what had happened, he had clearly brushed against you by accident and gotten aroused.
Trying to be respectful, you gently tried to move his head out of your lap. His eyes snapped open, blinking as he tried to place where he was.
“You look very beautiful when you sleep.” You blurted out softly as though scared he would bolt. His cheeks blushed a delicate shade of pink as he looked down and noticed his cock as though for the first time.
Scrambling out of your lap, he tried to cover himself with a pillow while cursing angrily with himself.
“I-it’s okay, you know.”
He froze, unsure of how to respond. So you decided not to let him.
“It happens to me too.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he was unsure if you were saying what he thought you were saying. That you also dreamed of him? And you felt the same attraction you denied yourself when awake?
“We don’t choose our thoughts when we dream. You must have been dreaming of a beautiful woman or an old lover perhaps.”
He frowned, if only you knew that it was you he wanted. Why had he pushed you away so much? Because he resented the lack of choice? Because he was so determined to despise anything related to his mother? The woman who had been so absent and cold towards him throughout his childhood, yet was unable to see why he drank and surrounded himself with whores to cope with the emptiness he felt.
You looked at him again, worried that you had somehow upset him. “You can go back to sleep, you know. I don’t mind.” You said, patting the cold space in your lap where he had been.
He smiled softly, and shyly lay back down.
How odd this man was, you thought. One moment he was fire and hatred but the next he seemed so lost and scared.
You started humming to yourself quietly as you again stroked his face. His eyes cracked open again.
“What is that song? It sounds familiar.”
“It’s just a song we sing to children in Old Town. My mother taught it to me so that maybe I could one day sing it to my own.”.
“It’s nice.” Aegon said gruffly and closed his eyes once more.
The rhythm and lyrics poured out of your mouth as you sang a nursery rhyme praising the child that grew in your belly, promising they would grow to be strong and that you were proud of him. It was an old song said to promote fertility and help form a bond through the womb.
Suddenly, you noticed something again poking into your lap as your husband blushed red with shame.
“M-mommy” he choked out in heaving gasps, his greasy hair wrapped around your fingers as you froze, tugging the roots sharply. The whimper of pain he released sounded almost like a moan and looking down you noticed the damp spot on his breeches.
Aegon jumped up as though he had been doused in icy water and backed up against the door. His chest falling and rising with small gasping hiccups.
You realised that this was probably the first time anyone had shown him the tenderness he so desperately craved, and that he had been seeking in the bottom of his cups and the bottoms of well, prostitutes. It was only natural that these feelings of shame had combined with arousal, and how he was attracted to the softness he had never known but always craved. You smiled kindly, reassuringly as if to let him know it was alright.
“I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s alright,” you said speaking to him slowly with your hands reached out, as though you were tying to tame a horse rather than a king with serious mother issues. “You can call me whatever you need.”
His lips were still quivering as more tears leaked out of his eyes and caught on his round chin before trickling down below his shirt.
“I am so sorry.” He whispered, so faintly it took a few seconds to sink in.
“It’s alright.” you repeated.
“N-no, it’s not. The moment I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. But then I became aware of the comments about your resemblance to my mother and I became so angry and confused at how someone I could desire so much could resemble someone who hates me so.”
You froze. Then before you knew it you were up against the door, pinning him to the cold iron that seemed to only increase the heat between your bodies.
He looked into your eyes, and you slowly traced the tears that had fallen down his soft chin and placed your finger in your mouth. As if to show him you wanted all of him. His sadness, his love, his unease.
Your husband seemed to snap at the image of your plump mouth slowly sucking the finger inside and gripped the back of your head, as he wound his shaking fingers around your long wavy hair. The kiss was searing, harsh and longing as you seemed to fall down and down into the feelings you had been denying for so long.
His length was aching and hard against your thigh as you suddenly pulled yourself from his embrace. Breathing heavily, you moved to untie his breeches. But he surprised you yet again. And got down on his knees.
This time it was you pressed against the door, as he lifted your skirts hurriedly only to look up questioningly as though asking your permission.
“I know I’ve been a cunt. But I hope that I can show you how sorry I am.” He grinned broadly as he waited for your approval.
“It’s fine, Aegon. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Well, my wife you clearly don’t know me very well if you think I would find tasting your sweetness unpleasant. Let me make amends…With my tongue.”
As soon as your head let out a shaky nod, not sure whether to believe what was happening. He was back under your skirts. Licking and tasting like this was the first meal he had all day, knowing him it was probably the first that wasn’t liquid.
You had never felt such an intense pleasure before, never in your nights of touching yourself under your sheets, your shaking fist shoved in your mouth as you thought of the stories your ladies had told you of all the ways a man could please a woman. As you thought of how beautiful your husband had looked in his armour the day he was crowned, so unsure and so vulnerable. You really seemed to have a weakness for sad men. But mainly just him, just your husband who was licking and sucking at you as he deadly slipped his tongue between your folds.
You cried out as he slowly breached your entrance with his finger.
“Is this alright?” He said worriedly as he looked up for your approval.
“Of course, sweet boy.” And in response your husband groaned, deep and full. His efforts redoubled as he sought to press his fingers inside at you at the point your inner walls started to crumble and be torn down by his efforts. Crying out in ecstasy, you collapse to the floor. His head still in your hands as he looked up at you adoringly, chin glistening with your release as he proudly smirked and wiped it off with the back of his hand.
You sat there together. On the floor for a moment. As you thought of how misunderstood the man who rested his head in the crook of your neck was. At how he loved you, every part of you. Even the parts that resembled his mother. Because maybe with at was what he needed. To see a version of himself, reflected in yourself as kindness. And maybe he wasn’t afraid anymore. Of loving you so entirely.
You smiled at him softly as he panted into your shoulder and you noticed how the hardness in his breeches had only grown fiercer and more pulsing.
“May I?”, you spoke, gazing into his eyes and now he was the one who was shy as he nodded gently.
Reaching into his trousers, you took his cock in your hands. “Pretty.” You could not help yourself say. You worriedly glanced at your husband only to find his face bright red yet again. He pulsed in your hands and you realised what he needed. What he had been denied for so long.
“Such a good boy.” You murmured into his neck. The reaction was instant, his head burrowed further into your chest as he moaned low and unashamed.
“You’re doing so well. Being such a perfect boy for me. So so pretty.”
He latched on to your breast, yanking them out of your gown fiercely as he began to suck harshly on your nipples. You moaned, as you increased your efforts on his aching red cock.
“You’re a good man, Aegon.” You choked out between sighs, “You’d be such a good father to our children, I’d be honoured to be their mother.”At these words, your husband pulsed furiously and exploded into your palm.
Shaking from pleasure, he again rested his head in your lap. Looking up at you as though you were still strangers and he was still shy, despite his tongue having been inside your cunt moments before.
“D-did you mean that?”
“Mean what?”
“That I’d be a good father. That you’d want to have children with me.”
“Of course. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more. Stop denying yourself the love you want to give and receive, from me, from any children we may have.”
He smiled at this, like the sun was breaking across a clouded sky. Like he was seeing what his lifecould be for the first time.
“Well.” Your husband grinned; “I think we should start trying to make children more productively.”As he again pushed you to the floor, both of you laughing and smiling as he kissed you again and again.
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buckets-and-trees · 2 months
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Whining to Bucky that you're horny, but also that it's too hot and you're too sticky for sex 😫
Title: Too Hot Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 700 Summary: Standalone part of the Desperate to Devoted story. Summer in the city. Heatwave. Too hot. Boyfriend doesn't care.
Content/Warnings: established relationship, vaginal fingering, excessive heat wave, vibranium arm special features
Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone but does take place after Big Conversation, so they're at the point of an established, committed relationship. Week six of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "I won't be able to stop myself." Also filling my April box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with the "gradually moving in together" prompt.
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Flat on your back on your bed, you heard the buzz of your phone on the mattress next to you, but you didn’t want to move.
You’d finally edged out of being miserably hot after laying under the ceiling fan and enough of the day’s heat wave levels of heat only just beginning to dissipate outside.
Checking the text would require moving, and your limbs still felt like too much of a burden.
Bzz.
You weren’t sure if it was another text or the reminder that you had an unopened message, so you didn’t open your eyes.
Bzz.
Bzz.
You smiled and finally reached for the phone. Only one person would be sending you multiple texts.
Bucky.
Lifting the phone and opening your eyes, you saw you were right and unlocked the screen to read the messages.
BUCKY: Just landed, will head your way as soon as we debrief.
BUCKY: I know it’s only been two days, but I missed you like crazy!
BUCKY: Should I pick up something for dinner?
BUCKY: Can’t wait to hear your laugh and feel your lips against mine you have me crazy for you…
Your smile turned into a grin, and you rolled over onto your stomach and began typing your reply.
YOU: No food, only ice cream. Too hot.
YOU: Missed you, too, but no touching. Too hot!
You sent the red, hot-faced emoji for good measure.
His reply came through a few moments later.
BUCKY: No can do, I’m dying to sink my cock into your cunt.
Your stomach instantly flipped reading those words.
“Fuck you, Bucky Barnes.”
YOU: Hot is winning over horny.
At least for now. Though your core was feeling enticed, the rest of your body rebelled against the thought of the heat of another body anywhere close to you.
BUCKY: We’ll see about that… I won’t be able to stop myself.
Your stomach flipped again.
Six months ago, Bucky was the man you begrudgingly worked with when assigned to missions for his team, and now he was your insatiable boyfriend.
YOU: When you get here you might change your mind…
An hour later, you heard Bucky’s key turning in the lock of the front door. He hasn’t moved into your place, but he’s over often enough now that you gave him a key.
“Damn,” he said, voice raised enough for you to hear him in the other room, though your place isn’t terribly large. “I had no idea it was this hot!”
“Air conditioning is out,” you replied. You heard him setting a couple of bags on the counter – likely food he picked up. “They have someone coming tomorrow to look at it.”
“You should’ve gone to my place,” he said, “even when I’m not there, you’re always wel-,” he paused when he stepped into the bedroom doorway, “-come.”
He groaned.
“Do not even touch me,” you warned in all seriousness.
“This is not fair,” he replied. “You expect me to leave you alone when I haven’t seen my girl in two days, and you’re laid out in only your underwear on the bed?”
“I do not want any skin on my skin, Barnes.”
It was a testament to how hot you were that your brain had not even come close to thinking of the key Bucky had also given to you to his place.
You didn’t open your eyes, too exhausted from the heat, but you could feel his gaze roaming over your form.
“You’re making this hard in more ways than one,” he grumbled.
“I’m resigned to my melted fate.”
The mattress dipped with Bucky’s weight, and you groaned. “No.”
But then you gasped and your eyes flew open when very cold vibranium fingers skimmed up your inner thigh.
“No?” he chuckled.
“I didn’t know you could…?” you trail off, distracted when his fingers slip beneath the gusset of your panties and begin to tease your wet folds.
“It’s not a feature I usually need.”
You gripped the cool metal of his arm, holding him firm against your pussy.
“I want one orgasm from my girl, and then we’re staying the night at my place. It’s too hot here for anything, and definitely too hot for everything I want to do with you tonight.”
You whimpered and let your legs fall open when two of his fingers entered your aching hole. “Deal, absolute fucking deal,” you agreed.
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
....I'm sure that was not the intention when Suri programmed his limb to be able to drastically change temperature, but certainly coming in handy at this moment. 😏
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right back at you
logan howlett x reader, cute little fic
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The alcohol burned down your throat as you gazed up at the ever-imposing castle. It was a homecoming you didn’t know you needed. Tucking the silver flask back into your jacket, air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath and walked through the front doors. The hallways were busy, footsteps, up and down the stairs. Young mutants rushing off to their next classes, half eaten pieces of toast in their mouths. Powers fizzling in the air, it felt so good. A curt hello came from a familiar voice, and you were pleased to see Scott standing in front of you.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” he smiled. “Now maybe Logan will stop being such a jackass.”
“Unlikely,” you laughed, placing down your bag. It had been nearly three months since you were invited to join another group of heroes. It had been an invitation one could not decline, even though you really wanted to. It was Logan who had encouraged you, he had known how it had been a dream of yours to fight alongside Captain America. It felt silly now, like a child’s nonsensical dream. 90 days without seeing him – sure there were phone calls and letters, but the Avengers were a very busy group of people.
“He hasn’t come out of his room yet.”
“Thanks, Scott. Will you tell the others I’m home?” Your friend grinned, asking if it was for good. Looking around the school, you nodded. “Yeah, for good.”
….
The bedroom door sang under your knuckles, knocking relentlessly until a loud curse vibrated through the wood. Logan appeared angry as he swung open the door in gray sweats and a white tank top. Immediately, the expression on his face softened and for a moment, he seemed stunned. His eyes took you in but as always, his poker face stiffened back up and he smirked.
“Fresh out the slammer, bub?”
“What can I say? The Avengers are just a little too clean cut for me.”
Logan grinned. “Done getting your kicks off with Cap?”
With an eye roll, you pushed Logan back into the room and slammed the door shut. He drew you into his arms and held you tight against his chest. You inhaled his smell, melted against the warmth of his body and dug your nose deep into the creak of his neck. His hand rubbed up and down your back, giving you the comfort you had missed. You whispered that you were sorry for leaving, that you should have never left. “It didn’t feel right. Nothing feels right without you.”
“Right back at you.”
Logan gently pushed you off him, holding your face in his hands. His thumb caressed the edge of your chin, and he smiled. “It’s good to see you again, sweetheart.”
Placing your hands on his forearms, you leaned in for a kiss. “Right back at you.”
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saltburnedme · 9 months
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall
Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕
Part 2
21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.
You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.
Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.
‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.
‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.
‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.
‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.
Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.
You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.
Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.
Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.
‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.
2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.
The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.
‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.
‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.
‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.
‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.
‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.
‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.
‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.
‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.
‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.
He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.
‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.
It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.
You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?
Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.
These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.
‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.
His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.
‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.
Part 2
Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359
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minarisplaything · 9 months
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Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim
pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+
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 It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.
Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"
"SURPRISE!!!"
A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.
"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.
"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.
The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.
“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.
“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."
Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.
You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.
"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."
Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.
Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.
"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."
An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.
“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”
The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."
“Does that make me the talented one?”
The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.
Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”
You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.
“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”
Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.
“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”
“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.
“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.
“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."
"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.
A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”
“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.
You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.
“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”
You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.
“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”
The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.
It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.
After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.
“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.
“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.
“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.
Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.
"Do you dance?" 
It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you. 
Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"
Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!" 
She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.
If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.
"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.
Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.
"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.
The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top.  As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again. 
“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.
You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.
“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music. 
And you were. Very much so in fact. 
After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end. 
It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse. 
“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”
Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged. 
“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.
You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.
No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.
“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”
What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably. 
Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.
When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.
“Hey,” you called out.
“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you. 
“Decided to take a break?”
“Something like that.”
“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.
Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”
Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her. 
“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…” 
Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”
This was it. Your chance.
“I can take you home if you want.”
A wicked grin crossed her features. 
“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”
LATER THAT NIGHT…
Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.
From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.
Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.
Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.
“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.
“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.
“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”
Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.
“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”
“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.
“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”
The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.
The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.
“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.
She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.
“Fuck…”
“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.
“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.
Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.
"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.
Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.
"Fucking hell," you grunted.
"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.
As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.
"Harder," she gasped.
"Yes ma'am."
Every time you entered her from behind it  resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with. 
It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.
"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.
"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."
"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.
All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.
"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.
You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.
"Jesus christ..."
When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.
"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
1K notes · View notes
l0nelyish · 2 months
Text
It‘s about that sandwich!
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natasha romanoff x fem!reader
prompt: where you just can’t help but stun Natasha… and maybe get on her nerves? she doesn’t know which one it is.
nothin but pure fluff and nat being pouty af
lil bit of grumpy nat x sunshine reader if you squint.
3rd pov
„That‘s it.“, Wanda turned around, confused. Witnessing Natasha angry, sure thing. Witnessing her confused? never.
“What’s the matter with you, everything alright?”
Natasha huffed, pouting almost childlike. It’s so not like her to seem this openly frustrated, but she couldn’t care less. “Do I seem alright to you? No. This is the fifth time this month she’s been emptying one of the pbj ingredients before i could make one for myself.”, she dragged her eyes across the room, almost analyzing as in ‘hide and seek’. Where could you have been? And why do you have to steal ‘her’ ingredients? Natasha was bothered by you, yes. Extremely.
Wanda took another look at Natasha and chuckled: “Damn, does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich really have that much value to THE black widow? Oh my Lord.”
Natasha almost wanted to hit Wanda in the head with her slices of bread. It was really tempting, she had to admit. The witch shot her a knowing look, most likely hearing her thoughts. Again, the Russian woman huffed. Her temper was really not her strongest suit. Especially not after provoking it.
“It has a decent amount of value, thank you. What do you want me to say? ‘Oh my God! I can’t live without a pbj sandwich! Help me!’ ?”, Natasha shot her a glare, sarcasm being her best suited form of selfdefense. She truly is a witty woman.
On the other side of the kitchen aisle, Wanda tried her best not to fall into a laughing fit. Never has she ever seen Natasha this distressed, this fuzzy. And then, after really considering who they were discussing, she sent her friend a knowing smirk:
“Are you really this cranky about two bread slices or is it because of your ‘definitely not crush’ ?”
Natasha stared at her, eyes blown in shock: she got caught. Again. She usually wouldn’t let someone else read her this easily, but since this is you they’re talking about, and it’s Wanda she’s talking to, there really is no reason to facade it. Still, she tries to deny: “I told you a hundred times, I don’t like her! I can’t even stand her. I mean, she empties the food. What am I supposed to eat now?” So wrong. Even Natasha knows her whole act of trying to hate and blame you for everything is not working and it’s just her best shot at ignoring the rising feelings she’s got for you. But could anybody blame her, really? When you were this excited, extremely beautiful, empathetic and shiny human being?
You entered the kitchen, unaware of the ongoing dispute. Hot on your heels, you scanned the room and reacted to Natashas last sentence: “Did Steve forget the groceries? Are you hungry?”
And just like that, after merely 5 seconds, Natasha dreaded holding a grudge. Her whole demeanor snapped (no pun intended) and her eyes gazed almost neutrally into your warm gaze: “Someone emptied the whole peanut butter jar. And now I can’t make my dinner.”
Surprisingly, you sent her a goofy smile: “Oh! That must have been me, I’m extremely sorry, Tasha. I do have another half of my pbj sandwich left though, I was about to refrigerate it.”, you held up your plate. She gave it a look and panicked internally: were you really about to share your meal? As if gathering her freight, you again sent her a toothy smile and handed her the leftover half. “Enjoy!”, was all you stated, leaving both women standing around the kitchen isle. Plus the pbj sandwich, which Natasha stared at for longer than necessary. The corners of her mouth started to form a smile, which after some contemplation she insisted on not following through.
Wanda, who encountered the whole interaction, had a huge smirk on her face.
Natasha on the other hand, without having to look at her friends face, mentally face palmed herself for always getting so stuck up around you.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything… but enjoy your meal.”, with that, Wanda left a flushed Natasha stood in the compound’s kitchen.
The widow took another look at your, no her, plate. And after a year, she still can’t wrap her head around it:
What was she going to do about you?
514 notes · View notes
nvuy · 3 months
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hey gorjous im just curious will you ever write for aventurine?by the way loveeee your works
rose-tinted glasses & the scent of you — aventurine
summary. you’re offered a chance to win close to a million credits. only issue is, you suck at poker. luckily, some blond man with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen comes to your aid.
notes. who is aventurine and no i will never write for him. it is 3:30am and i am now going to sleep goodnight!!!!
warnings. the dude your playing poker with is an asshole and says some strange things, i guess a bit of power imbalance, gn reader but referred to as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous,’ light cussing, i don’t know how to play poker and i fight the gods trying to write aventurine.
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“So… tell me… what made you think you could win?” 
The older man stares you down with those awful brown eyes. They flicker even darker than black itself in the low lights of the VIP room he’s dragged you into. 
You glance up from your deck of cards. Your fingers are trembling. You swallow and tell the man, “I never even agreed to play this game with you.” 
The man leans back in his chair. He merely rolls his eyes. The woman over his shoulder—and she’s a gorgeous woman. She looks much too young for him—giggles at his antics. She looks more like a prize than anything. 
Your eyes snap to the man’s again. “And I don’t want to be your arm candy.” 
“Oh, but that’s what you were made for.” The man yawns as if he could be doing anything else with his time. And he could have; he was rich. Filthy rich. He paid for women, cars, and every high end restaurant in this district that was under his name one way or another. All his. He could have been off on his yacht somewhere in the ocean for all you cared, sipping a nice martini. 
But, no. 
He’s here. And he wants you. 
Some lowly office worker. You knew the gut feeling when you stepped into this casino, and you had ignored it. Now, you were kicking yourself repeatedly for it.
“Play.”
You almost consider throwing your cards down onto the table and storming out, but the room is closed off by two big burly men standing on either side of it.
And if you give up, he wins.
But he’s already winning, anyway. 
“Play the game,” he repeats, this time firmer. 
“I’m folding,” you said with just as much vitriol. You drop your cards onto the green velvet and swallow your pride. 
The man hums with triumph, drops his deck—of course, a royal flush glimmers back at you on his pristine customised playing cards—and collects the chips in the middle of the table. 
“That’s another round for me,” the man whispers across the table. “Another drink?” 
You shake your head. The thought of him making you down even more liquor with him made you feel sick. “Can I leave?” 
“‘Leave?’ It’s only round four.” The dealer takes the cards silently. Another woman. Her name badge reads ‘Jewel,’ though you’re sure that’s not her real name. “You said it was best of five.” 
You look down at your hands.
They’re still trembling. 
“This isn’t fair.” You try not to tear up, but your voice shakes, and it’s difficult to mask. Your hands continue to quake and your legs can’t remain still. You were sure he could feel the floor vibrating with how you bounced in your seat. “I can’t even play with these cards–” 
“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m taking advantage of you, beautiful.” 
Your face screws up at that. 
He’s not cheating. How can he possibly cheat? You had elected the dealer yourself, per his request, and had been watching him like a hawk for the better half of an hour. 
Your hands were awful every time. Not even a simple pair. Just random useless low valued cards thrown together, while the man opposite you seemed to have an endless amount of tricks up his sleeve. 
Poker was luck based. Mostly. There was skill and strategy, but it was like detective work. You’re no professional, but the dealer has no idea what they draw for each player, and the chances of you being drawn a horrible hand twice in a row now was creeping up on you.
It’s all guesswork and mind games. Being a sleaze is this dude’s lifestyle. You work in an office answering phone calls all day.
You glance at the dealer again. She’s still shuffling the cards by hand, and she’s not looking at them either. There’s no possible way she could know what she is handing out. 
You sigh shakily. “No.” 
The man leans back in his chair. 
Then, he glances up when the door opens behind you. The woman over his arm gets up and leaves. 
At first you presume the man has called in another woman by the way his eyes light up.
His grin is wicked. “Mister Aventurine, you son of a bitch.”
He gestures to you and says, “you’re in luck. Maybe this’ll be your turn around. You’re going to need it.” The man leans back in his chair, suddenly smug.
You feel a hand brush along the back of your shoulder.
There’s a strong scent of clove oil and chestnut as the newcomer, Mister Aventurine, glides past your chair and over to the man’s shoulder. 
You notice flicks of water on his coat.
“Evening, Keres.” His voice is just as smooth. “It’s raining hard out there.” 
“Is it? I ain’t been out since this mornin’.”
When you take a proper look at him, he’s wearing clothing more expensive than all of your bills combined. That was real fur around his collar; you could tell from the organic coarseness of it, and the way the pattern was inconsistent and natural. The watch around his wrist was most definitely real gold with an emerald green face. 
And hair is perfect, laid down flat, but with pieces fluffed out intentionally. Everything is done with purpose. He carries an air of confidence to him, and it only falters for a moment when he adjusts the black gloves on his hands. 
He’s wearing rose-coloured glasses.
“Harassing the locals again?” Mister Aventurine asks playfully. 
He’s talking about you.
You bristle in your seat.
“Hardly.” The man, whom you now know as Keres, leans over the table with an arm on the velvet. “This one’s gotten a little too excited at the prize money.” 
“And how much is that?” Mister Aventurine finishes fixing his gloves before he stands up straight. 
“A good seven-hundred and fifty thousand. Enough to pay the bills for the year and get yourself something nice, right sweetheart?” He raises a silver credit card he pulls from his pocket and waves it side to side. “All right here on this shiny, pretty card.”
You feel like a fish staring down a hook with worm bait stuck to the end.
He’s speaking to you again, but the question  remains unanswered. Keres raises an eyebrow—and you would have considered him handsome if didn’t make you feel nauseous every time he spoke to you—and waits.
You say nothing. 
Mister Aventurine is looking at you now.
You feel as though you’re being hypnotised. Though the colour of his eyes are left muffled by the rosy tint he wears over them, they’re so bright. There’s two colours you can barely decipher: some sort of light green and a deep purple.
And they’re beautiful. 
“I take it you’re winning?” 
Keres picks up his deck of cards for the dealer as she lays them out on the table.
You swallow as she deals out your hand next. You don’t even want to flip the cards. You already know it’s over.
By some miracle, you have to win this round.
Keres had gone easy on you the first round, calling your bluff and being wrong, since you told him you weren’t sure how to play, and he felt only the slightest bit bad he roped you into the game in the first place.
Now, he didn’t care. 
“‘Course I’m winnin’.” 
Your teeth grit behind your lips.
Dickhead.
You swallow and peek at your cards. 
Huh. They’re actually not so bad this time around. Your hands had been awful for the last hour. 
Mister Aventurine is still looking at you.
You try not to return his gaze. You keep your eyes glued to the table. 
Mister Aventurine hums curiously.
You can still smell his perfume, and the delicious bottom note of vanilla musk, even as he stands on the other side of the playing table. If you weren’t in the position you were in, you would have asked him what he was wearing. 
He clears his throat. 
You glance up at him.
Then, he nods subtly at you, seemingly pleased. “Great hand, Keres, don’t you think?” 
“The secret to winning is to remain humble, Mister Aventurine,” Keres reminds him. 
You almost scoff. 
Mister Aventurine’s lips tick up into a grin. “Is that so?” 
Then, he tilts his head slightly towards you. It’s not enough to look awkward or out of place, but it’s just enough for you to notice the very small, and nervous tick of one of his gloved fingers by his sides. 
He’s still staring at you. 
And there, slightly warped from his curved lenses, is a rosy and mirrored reflection of the man’s cards. 
For a moment, you look away, glancing at the security guards situated behind you standing in front of the door. Though you still could never make a run for it because both of them were triple your size, one of them was tapping away on his phone, and the other was leaning against the wall and staring off into space. 
You turn back around. 
Mister Aventurine merely raises a brow. 
Keres notices that. “Taking an interest in my opponent, Aventurine?”
Aventurine does not move to address the man, too afraid he won’t garner the correct angle on his glasses again, but his eyes do flit in his direction. “Maybe.”
“Don’t use that charm just yet, sir. I’ve got a game to win.” 
“Of course.” It’s a mere send off of his tone, as if he’s just carelessly thrown the words in to keep the man satisfied. 
He’s doing this on purpose. 
You glance down at your cards again. 
Keres’ hand is good. It’s not amazing, but it’s good. It’s almost an even match, though the game is tilted slightly in his favour. 
But, he doesn’t know your cards. 
Neither does Aventurine. You think. Unless those freaky eyes grant him a sixth sense, and he can see through the card backs like an x-ray. That wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. 
You exhale as steadily as you can, trying to slow your racing heart. 
Then, you whisper, “if this is the final round, I’m going all in.” 
Aventurine’s face does not shift. His lenses flicker in the lights, and for a moment you panic, convinced that the reflection is lost.
It returns a moment later. 
Keres grins. “As you wish.” He slides all of his own chips into the centre of the table. 
ೃ༄
You’ve confused Keres, that’s for sure. The round has been lasting a lot longer than he liked, and as he grew more and more impatient, he grew sloppier. 
You’re not any good at this game. You’re not a genius strategist, that was for sure, but judging by the slight flinch in Aventurine’s face when Keres slammed his hands on the table, you could tell he was being run around the very table he sat at. 
He’d first accused you of cheating halfway through the round, so much so that the security guards were ordered to pat you down for extra cards, and the dealer was escorted out of the room. 
Then, Aventurine had rested a gloved hand to the man’s shoulder and reminded him, “calmness is the cradle of power, my friend.” 
That barely calmed him down, but it was enough to seat the man again. 
Now, Aventurine was not showing you his hand anymore, but you didn’t need it. 
“I’m raising,” Keres whispers. 
Aventurine’s eyes narrow suspiciously at his deck. 
You swallow. 
“Then I’m calling your bluff,” you mumble. You won’t fold. Not here. Not when you know you’ve won. 
Your heart is racing.
There’s a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you may have overstepped. You may have grown too big in your own head. 
Aventurine is staring at you, completely expressionless. He’s casually leaning against the back of Keres’ chair. 
Come on. Come on, come on–
You grip your cards for dear life.  
Keres drops his cards. “Fuck you.” 
You sigh in relief and drop your own cards.
You bury your face in your hands and lean against the table on your elbows. You could cry. Oh, you could get on the floor and weep to the Aeons. You could give Aventurine a giant kiss on the lips. 
Oh, thank the Aeons for blond men. 
You didn’t have to worry about waking up in this man’s bed tomorrow morning. 
Keres gets up, and as he does, Aventurine adjusts his posture and clears his throat. He says nothing when Keres passes him. 
There’s a nasty whisper of a, “some lucky charm you are,” before the credit card is thrown into his chest. 
Keres hits you in the shoulder on his way out. The security guards allow him through first before they both file out. They close the door to the VIP room behind them. 
You contemplate leaving as well. You just desperately want to go home. It’s getting late, you think. You had caught a glance of Aventurine’s watch before, and the large hand was ticking towards nine o’clock. 
“Congratulations.” It’s warm. It’s genuine. When you turn, Aventurine is holding out the credit card in front of him. “Don’t forget the ‘shiny, pretty card.’” 
Your chest warms, and you feel this is the first time you’ve smiled properly in a long time. 
You move closer to the man. “You…” You hesitate before the credit card, but Aventurine makes no move to pocket it for himself and leave. “I- I don’t know how I can thank you enough for this.” 
You take the card and stare at it for a moment. 
Then, you place it safely in your coat pocket. 
Aventurine tilts his head, confusion scrawled onto his face as saunters past you easily to hold open the door for you. “Thank me for what?”
As he waits, he pulls off those rosy glasses and folds them neatly. He holds onto them.
Oh. 
His eyes are beautiful. A light blue ring surrounds his slightly slitted pupils. A gorgeous rich royal purple wraps at the edges of his iris, bordered by a thick black ring. 
You stop for a moment before you step towards the door, looking equally as confused. “The reflection? With your glasses?” 
Aventurine looks down at the said pair in his hands. He then smiles, but it seems more to be polite and to entertain you. “Sure.” He shuts the door behind you when he follows you out. 
You knit your brows together. 
Then, it wasn’t intentional.
Or, he’s just really good at playing dumb.
You can’t exactly tell.
His grin spells mischief, however. “Would you like a drink?” 
Your eyes flit towards the bar. It’s always fully stocked, and the bartenders are always lovely, but the idea of liquor in your already churning stomach makes you feel sick. “Oh, no. But thank you. I’m probably just going to go home.” 
“Of course. It’s late.” Aventurine glances down at his watch. “I’d be more than happy to walk you to your car, if you’d like.” 
You blink at him, only slightly dazed. 
You felt as if you had just swallowed three shots of straight vodka. 
Your legs feel unsteady for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ll teeter and fall flat on your face. You can smell his perfume again. It’s stronger now since he’s standing so close to you.
It’s almost humiliating how easily he sends blood rushing up your neck. 
“I don’t- uh… I don’t have a car,” you murmur. 
Aventurine blinks and takes out his phone. “Then I’ll call you a cab.” 
“Thanks.” You clear your throat when his lips stretch into a smile again. Embarrassingly, you add, “you smell so nice.” 
He laughs then, and you like the sound. He narrows his eyes playfully. “Thank you.” 
As if it couldn’t get any worse, blondie then offers you his arm. You could’ve melted on the spot into a puddle of goo all over the plush red carpets of the casino. 
The sound of slot machines, loud chattering, and drinks clacking together in toasts, drowns out the sound of your stuttered breathing and the roar of blood in your ears. 
Aventurine greets one of the staff members on his way out. His arm linked with yours is gentle, more of a persistent comforting anchor than a leash to drag you around in.
He smells really, really nice. 
Your face grows hot.
This is so bad. 
It’s raining outside. The entrance to the casino is large enough to provide enough relief to city goers seeking shelter from the rain. The press of the heating from inside dissipate as soon as you step through the doors.
It’s freezing. The wind whips and sounds as though one thousand ghosts float through the air, lost to time. 
You’re relieved the exterior roof keeps you mostly dry. 
You shiver. 
“They’ll be a cab for you in five minutes,” Aventurine says softly. He lets go of your arm. You ignore the disappointment you feel in your chest. 
“Thanks.” You cross your arms over your chest to shield yourself from the cold as best you could. “You don’t have to wait out here with me.” 
Aventurine looks at you strangely. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing much else.” He gives you a once over before you hear his clothes shifting. 
This is so awkward. 
You feel the foreign tickle of expensive and real fur on your neck. 
You glance at him suspiciously before your shoulders are swamped in his jacket. It’s warm, warmer than anything you’ve ever worn from the velvety insides and his own body heat, and heavy with luxury. 
Your heart stops when Aventurine hums, pleased. 
Your hands shoot to the white fur on the collar to shuck it off and hand it back to him. “I’m fine, really–” 
“Oh, please.” He waves you off gently. “You’re clearly freezing.” 
“I’m really okay–” 
“And would you look at that.” Aventurine straightens up and pushes his rosy glasses back onto his nose bridge. “Your cab’s early.” 
You shrug off his jacket, careful with the expensive material. “Thank you so much, but–” He pushes it back onto your shoulders, following you to the car door. “Mister Aventurine–” 
“I insist.” He opens the door for you. “You’ll freeze.” 
You can’t imagine him standing around in a suit vest and a shirt is warm, either.
You say nothing about it. You practically fall into the back of the cab, shocked. 
“Take it home.” 
“‘Take it–‘” You shake your head. You feel like you’re dreaming. “I can’t take this home. This thing is worth more than the money I just won.” 
But it’s warm, and it’s weighted in the most comforting way.
It calms your nerves. 
“It’s nothing fancy. It was only around one-hundred thousand credits.”  
“Are you serious–” 
“Take it.” And he is serious. You can see your reflection in his glasses. “Please.“ 
His eyes are really, really beautiful. 
You find yourself lost in them for a moment. 
His back is slightly soaked from the rain. He barely notices it. His hand rests on your knee when you swing your feet into the cab. 
You nod once, more to reassure yourself than anything. “Okay.” You look up at him. “Thank you so much.” 
“Don’t mention it.” He offers you a gentle wave before he shuts the door and the car drives off. 
He is cold. Frightfully so as you watch him shiver through the rear view mirror before he steps back into the casino. 
As the cab moves, you relay your address to the driver and sit back in the seat. You feel like you can finally breathe, but when you do breathe, you only smell chestnut and vanilla, and it blurs and muddies your senses nicely. 
You bury your icy fingers into the pockets of Aventurine’s coat, sinking into the neckline until the fur tickles your ears. 
Your fingers come into contact with something smooth and cool, like glass.
You fish it out. 
It’s a small perfume bottle. You pull the clear lid off of the tip of it and curiously smell the top. It smells exactly like him, the same perfume that’s drowned you for the last hour.
You don’t think you can get enough of it. 
You feel only slightly guilty for digging around in this man’s pockets—and, unsurprisingly, you don’t find a wallet—before you fish out a pair of fancy looking golden dice with light green dots on the faces. 
The dice, the perfume, and a small card. Not the credit card you won. That one is tucked away safely in your bag. 
It’s a business card. His business card. His name, what you recognise as the IPC’s logo, and his phone number are written in gold lettering on the laminated white card. 
You hum curiously.
Then, you fish out your phone and slowly type his number onto the screen. 
You: thank u 4 winning 2night for me. & the coat. the coat is nice. x
Sent 9:56pm
Aventurine: You found my gifts! :0 Did you like them?
You: maybe. i did like ur vest btw.
Aventurine: You can have it next time ;)
You find yourself smiling. Your fingers tremble with excitement over the keyboard on your screen.
You: i’ll give u a kiss 4 it :*
Aventurine: Done, deal. Pleasure doing business with you, gorgeous.
You have a feeling your wardrobe will be full of his clothes in the not so distant future. 
478 notes · View notes
fandoms-x-reader · 3 months
Text
Standing You Up
Headcannons
Summary: The brothers accidentally stand you up / forget about a date that they had with you.
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Lucifer let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his temples for the tenth time that night. His younger brothers all stood before him, explaining their sides of the story as they all tried to clarify exactly how the House of Lamentation caught on fire.
He had come home from a meeting with Lord Diavolo when the smell of smoke filled his nostrils followed by Asmo’s and Levi’s screams.
Lucifer had rushed inside to see the living room on fire and his brothers in the middle of a very heated argument. Anger filled his senses as he immediately yelled for them to stop, putting out the fire, and demanding an explanation.
But the explanation had taken much longer than expected. Each one of them had their own overdramatic reasons as to why they had participated in the fight, leaving Lucifer more confused and exhausted by the end of it. 
While this was all happening at the House of Lamentation, you were standing outside of the Opera House, all dressed up. Lucifer had gotten you tickets to an opera you had been wanting to see for your birthday. You had been sending him messages and calling him, but you got nothing in response. It wasn’t until the opera had already started that you gave up on him showing up.
“None of this would have happened if Y/N had been here to stop it,” Asmo defended. Lucifer’s eyes suddenly widened at the mention of your name. Realization dawned on him as he looked to the clock, wincing at the time.
He immediately scrambled for his D.D.D., his heart stopping when he saw all of the missed messages and calls. His eyes were burning with a fiery rage. He wanted so badly to punish his brothers properly, but there would be time for that later. Right now, he needed to remedy the situation with you.
With a few threatening demands, Lucifer quickly left his brothers and began heading towards the Opera House. He tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.
He looked dejected when he didn’t see you standing in front of it. Not that the two of you could make the opera now anyway. 
His eyes lit up though when he saw you walking down the street, not too far away. He immediately rushed to you, catching up with ease. “Y/N!”
His voice froze you in your spot as he was suddenly in front of you. Your eyes were glossy and he hated the idea that he had made you cry. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry,” he told you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently to tell you he was being genuine. He took in your appearance. You looked stunning. An idea suddenly popped into his head.
“Allow me to take you to Ristorante Six instead,” Lucifer offered. You were still a bit mad, but you wanted to spend at least some time with him tonight. So, you agreed and a bright smile lit up Lucifer’s face.
He would explain why he was late on the way to the restaurant along with how exactly he was going to punish each one of his brothers for making him miss his date with you.
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You anxiously paced in your room as you sent another text to Mammon. You weren’t sure how many you had sent at this point, but it still wasn’t enough. You let out a small sigh, turning your D.D.D. to sleep.
There was a concert tonight in the Devildom that was a “human-world cover band”. You saw a flier for them while you were out with Mammon and noticed their line-up. You knew almost every song they were going to play. You had been so excited to go because it would remind you of home. So, Mammon promised he would take you.
He told you he would be back from RAD a little later than normal, but even then, you would have had plenty of time to make it to the concert. But, minutes turned to hours, and he still wasn’t there. You let out a small sigh as you sat down on your bed, a small tear rolling down your cheek. Even if Mammon answered now, you wouldn’t make it in time. 
Mammon had every intention of taking you to that concert. He loved the way your face lit up when you first saw the flier. He didn’t understand why you were so excited until he saw what kind of songs they were singing. After that, he knew that he had to be the one to take you to it.
You would look so cute dancing and singing to all of the songs you knew from your realm. He couldn’t let his brothers see that. No, this would be something special between the two of you.
He was thinking about it all day at school. He even managed to save a little bit of Grimm to buy you something at the concert.
But, then, one of the modeling agencies messaged Mammon, letting him know that there was an urgent job available. One of the models dropped out at the last second, and they were desperate. The problem was that it was only for today after school.
Mammon let out a small sigh, getting ready to tell them that he already had plans; but, then they sent him the amount he would be paid for it. It would be enough to get you even more things at the concert! You would be so happy!
He agreed to go and rushed over to the location. He would be really quick!
He had lost track of time, doing pose after pose and watching the Grimm pile up with each picture that was taken. 
The photographer was getting ready for the next part of the shoot when Mammon overheard the news channel that was playing softly on the TV in the background. And tonight’s concert had a record-breaking attendance, making it a night to remember!
Mammon’s eyes flashed to the TV in an instant as he saw clips of the concert he was supposed to take you to. He immediately ran to his phone. It couldn’t be that late already, right?!
He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he saw the time and all the missed messages and calls. He immediately rushed home, forgetting to even collect the Grimm he had already earned. He had never run so fast in his entire life, practically breaking the front door of its hinges as he burst through it, going straight to your room.
He knocked on the door, but when you didn’t come to answer it, he entered. A small frown formed as he saw you laying on your bed, facing away from him. You had already changed back into your pajamas and you refused to even look at him.
“Y/N,” he said softly, taking a few steps closer. When you didn’t reply, he came and sat behind you on the bed. From here, he could see your open eyes, staring at the blank wall in front of you. “I’m sorry.”
You let out a sigh before finally turning to face him. He could see the stains from your tears and his heart immediately broke.  “Where were you?”
Mammon opened his mouth a few times to explain, but he had no excuse for standing you up. “I was just tryin’ to earn more Grimm so I could get ya’ some gifts at the concert,” he finally said, unable to look you in the eyes.
“I didn’t need gifts, Mammon. I just wanted to go to the concert and spend some time with you,” you replied. His frown deepened at your words. He really messed up. You placed your hand on his and his eyes finally met yours. You appreciated the gesture and would never make him feel bad for wanting to spoil you, but you were disappointed you missed the concert.
“There’s still plenty of time in the night, ya’ know. We could watch some human-world movies!” Mammon suggested, his eyes lighting up with hope. You gave him a small smile before agreeing.
As the two of you cuddled and watched some of your favorite movies, Mammon secretly promised you that this was only the start of what he was going to do to make things up to you.
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You were standing in line, nervously biting your lip as you looked around for Levi. Demons surrounded you but none of them were the one who was supposed to meet you there. 
Levi had gotten you completely addicted to one of his anime and they were releasing a new manga that was associated with it today. Even more, the manga artist was in the bookstore signing each copy that was being bought!
You were so excited to not only get the new manga but to meet the manga artist behind it. You had told Levi about it and he seemed just excited. He promised to meet you at the bookstore, but there was no sign of him.
You pulled out your D.D.D. to send him a message asking if he was coming when you noticed that you had missed several text messages from him.
“Y/N! There’s a big raid happening.” “Hop on! We need you!” “Y/N, seriously! This is an emergency!” “WHERE ARE YOU??”
You let out a small sigh as you put away your D.D.D. You now understood Levi had completely forgotten about today. You frowned a bit as you reached the table and paid for two copies of the manga. You didn’t even have the motivation to revel in the awesomeness of the manga artist as he signed the mangas.
With a small thank you, you took the copies and headed back to the House of Lamentation.
As soon as you entered the House, Levi was approaching you. “Y/N! Where were you?! Did you not get my messages??” Levi asked, he had a somewhat angry expression on his face and your eyes trailed to the manga in your hands.
“I got you a copy,” you told him, handing him the manga.
Levi’s expression went from confused to panic as he suddenly understood where you were and what he had done.
“AH, I’m so sorry!” Levi said, suddenly in tears. He can’t believe he did this to his true friend. He thought you had abandoned him in a time of need but he was the one who did the abandoning.
You still had a sad look on your face and it was killing him. “I-I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you!” he added, desperately trying to get you to look happier.
You didn’t reply for a moment until you looked at the manga again. “Will you read it with me?”
Levi’s eyes lit up as he immediately took you to his room so that you could read the manga together in peace.
You sat close to each other as you read the manga, completely invested in the story. 
When you were done, Levi demanded you tell him everything about the manga artist. He wanted to know every detail and if he was as awesome in real life as they thought he would be. You admitted that you were a little too upset to really take in the moment.
Levi promises if he comes out with another manga that the two of you will go together and you would be the first in line for a signing. This would never happen again!
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Satan was known for being punctual. He was always paying attention to the time and he knew the exact amount of minutes it would take to get to wherever his destination was for the day.
So he wore a proud smirk on his face as he looked at the clock in the House of Lamentation to find that he was running almost a whole 30 minutes early to your date.
The two of you had plans to meet at a cafe in town for a study date. You had been struggling a bit with one of the classes and Satan had offered to help you.
The cafe was the perfect location. It was close enough to the House of Lamentation and it was quiet. His brothers wouldn’t be there to constantly interrupt and distract you from your studies; and, most importantly, it would be a nice intimate setting for the two of you.
Satan began making his way to the cafe. He figured it would be better to be early rather than late. And, he couldn’t wait to see you.
On the way to the cafe, Satan heard a small noise that froze him in place. He would recognize that sound anywhere. 
Satan turned his head to see a black and white cat sitting only a few feet from him. The cat was flicking its tail staring straight at Satan and he couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at the sight. They were so adorable!
The cat suddenly took off down the alleyway and Satan had a strong urge to chase after it. He followed it a bit further and stopped when he found himself in the middle of a cat haven. A large smile graced his lips as he sat down on the ground, beginning to pet one of the cats. He was still early so he knew he could afford to spend a little time here with the cats. 
He made sure to give each and every single one of them love - letting them know they each individually deserved it. 
His eyes widened in surprise as a cat crawled into his lap and curled into a ball, purring softly as it started to fall asleep. Satan would let it sleep - but only for a few minutes. Then, another cat came to him - and another. 
Soon he was surrounded by cats. They were so cute when they were curled up sleeping on him and around him. Satan wanted to stay like this forever. He decided to close his eyes and take in the moment. Just for a second.
You placed your phone in your bag as Satan didn’t answer once again. You looked at the time and noticed the cafe was closing in ten minutes. You let out a sigh before deciding you should start packing up your things.
Satan’s eyes snapped open when he felt one of the cats kneading at his leg. “Careful there,” he joked. He felt stiff as he carefully moved the cats off his lap. It was time to go to the cafe. How long had he been sitting there? Surely it was only for a few minutes.
Satan pulled out his D.D.D. to check the time and when he did, he stopped breathing. He was there for four hours! Satan let out a small gasp as he quickly started running to the cafe. Did he - fall asleep? How was that possible? He’s not Belphie.
He arrived at the cafe just as you were putting away the last of your things. He saw you through the window, looking dejected, and he could feel the rage start bubbling up inside of him. But towards who?
Himself. He couldn’t believe he had blown this opportunity. He couldn’t believe he missed out on the chance to spend the night with you.
You walked out of the cafe and froze when you saw Satan standing there. His rage suddenly subsided as he looked into your eyes. He took a few careful steps forward. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to fix this.
You didn’t know what to say either. Until you looked down at his clothes and noticed all of the fur that was on him.
“Satan, did you stand me up…for cats?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Satan opened his mouth to say something as a deep blush coated his cheeks. He looked down in shame as he told you, “I lost track of time.”
You let out a small chuckle and Satan’s eyes immediately snapped up towards you. You should have been angry at him; but, you found his love for the felines absolutely adorable and you could tell he genuinely didn’t mean to stand you up.
“We should get back to the House of Lamentation,” you told him. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted the night to last for ten more hours so he could get ample time with you. But, Lucifer had strict curfew rules and he knew the both of you would be in trouble if you weren’t back in time, so he agreed.
The two of you started walking back in silence until Satan said, “I’m sorry. This will never happen again. Next time, I’ll make sure I show up early.”
You looked up at Satan and gave him a small smile. You believed him. And, the promise of a next time was enough to satisfy you. 
“Do you want to tell me about the cats?”
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Asmo let out a frustrated sigh as he once again deleted the video he just recorded. This had to be his hundredth time recording the same thing that day. 
There was a current trend on FabSnap and he was trying to recreate it in his own way. He had a very strict posting schedule for all of his followers on FabSnap and he had to get this video out today. 
He took in a deep breath, resetting everything. He knew he could make the perfect video, he just needed to focus a little more. Or maybe it was the lighting. He could move locations, but then he would have set up everything all over again and that could take longer than he had. No, he would have to stay there and just try again until he got it right.
“I’m sorry, but this massage is meant for couples and if the other party isn’t here soon, I’m afraid you’ll lose your spot.”
You looked at the demoness behind the counter at the massage parlor and let out a small sigh. Asmo was more than an hour late and they were trying very hard to push you out of there. You knew that she was just trying to do her job so you didn’t maliciously respond. Instead, you just agreed to leave and put your names back on the waitlist.
On the whole way back to the House of Lamentation, you wondered why Asmo hadn’t called or texted you to let you know he wasn’t going to make it. He was usually so adamant about the two of you communicating.
When you reached the House you immediately went to Asmo’s room and knocked softly. You waited for him to answer, but when he didn’t you slowly opened the door, hoping he wasn't indecent - even though he wouldn’t mind either way.
“Finally!” Asmo practically screamed as the door opened. You raised an eyebrow as you saw him sitting on his bed, a satisfied smile resting on his lips as he watched the video he had just made on his D.D.D.
You understood now why he hadn’t shown up at the massage parlor. He tried so hard to keep his followers happy. Still, you couldn’t help but be a bit upset about getting stood up.
You made your way into the room, alerting Asmo of your presence and a large smile graced his face when he looked at you.
“Y/N! Come look at this video! It’s perfect!” Asmo told you as you joined him on his bed. He played the video and you did have to admit it was impressive.
“That’s amazing, Asmo! It must have taken all day to record,” you replied, watching his reactions very carefully.
“It did, but it was worth it! I look amazing in this one!” he replied, completely oblivious as he continued to edit the video.
“Still, it must have been hard work though. I mean, you could probably really use a massage,” you added, and you felt Asmo completely freeze up next to you.
He gasped loudly, dropping his D.D.D. on the bed as his eyes welled up with tears of realization as he slowly turned to look at you.
He suddenly threw his arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he apologized profusely, muttering excuses about how he just wanted to make a good video and promising he would make it up to you.
He wouldn’t stop until you hugged him back. “I know how you can make it to me.”
Asmo has a suggestive look on his face that makes you laugh. “With a massage,” you add, and the devilish smirk doesn’t leave his face. 
He’ll immediately get up and grab everything he needs to give you a great massage. It starts out innocent, but it’ll probably lead to his original idea.
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You sat in the middle of the secluded Devildom park, staring up at the sky above you as instinctively hugged yourself, the cold air starting to get to you. 
You were sitting on a large, comfortable blanket while a beautiful picnic basket sat next to you. It was full of all of Beel’s favorite snacks and drinks. Though, you supposed most of the food was freezing by now.
Tonight was supposed to be a romantic picnic date between you and Beel. But he hadn’t shown up; and, he hadn’t even bothered to respond to any of your texts or phone calls. 
You were ready to just head back to the House of Lamentation and call it a night. But, you also wanted to stay just a little bit longer and give Beel the benefit of the doubt. Surely, he would show up at some point, right? He hadn’t just completely forgotten about you…right?
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Beel was wearing a happy smile as he sat back in his chair in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen. 
He had stopped by on his way to the park for his date with you. He wanted to grab a special dessert for the two to share after you were done eating.
But, when he got there, they just so happened to be running an “all-you-can-eat” special. 
Beel felt like he had just won the lottery when he heard those words and it was as if all self-restraint and willpower left his body. He suddenly found himself eating everything the restaurant had, despite their pleas not to. They couldn’t exactly refuse him service though. He was one of the Seven Rulers of the Devildom.
When he was finally done, he took a moment to take in everything he had just eaten. Then, he felt his D.D.D. vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and his eyes widened as he saw all of the missed message notification along with your most recent message. 
Hey, I don’t know if you’re getting these, but it’s getting pretty cold. I’m going to head home.
Beel immediately jumped to his feet as he started running towards the park. He struggled to type out a message as he ran as fast he could. 
Don’t go! I’ll be right there!
He was sure that if he was human he would have thrown up after eating that much food and then sprinting. Luckily, he was a demon. 
When he finally got to the park, he saw you sitting on the picnic blanket, your knees tucked into your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm.
Beel immediately rushed to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He noticed how cold you were and it only made him feel worse as he pulled you impossibly close, trying to transfer his body heat to you.
You leaned into his touch as he explained the “all-you-can-eat” deal and how he fell for it. He was so apologetic as he clutched onto you. As if you would leave and never come back the second he let go.
You could tell he felt horrible, so you wrapped your arms around him, fully hugging each other now. “It’s okay, Beel, I understand.”
“We can still have the picnic,” he said with hope in his voice but you gently shook your head. “All the food is cold. But, we can try and come back on a different day,” you suggested.
He nodded his head and helped you gather everything. The two of you walked back to the House of Lamentation and he spent the rest of the night holding you, making sure you knew how he felt about you even though he messed up.
Would still eat the food you made, cold or not, when he gets hungry in the middle of the night.
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Belphie checked the bag that he packed for the fifth time that night. He was planning on taking you to a popular Devildom mountain. There was a special phenomenon happening tonight. It was called the “Superno Luminaria” and it only happened once a year in the Devildom.
Belphie had heard that the human world had something similar. But, it was called the Northern Lights or Aurora Borealis up there. It wasn’t quite the same. In the human world, the lights were caused by activity from the sun. 
In the Devildom, they were caused by…well, no one could say what caused them for sure. Most people say it’s an outburst of magic from the Devildom that is displayed in the sky. It definitely wasn’t the sun though. After all, the Devildom didn’t have one.
When he told you about the Superno Luminaria he was surprised at how excited you were. He thought you’d take an interest, but seeing the way your eyes lit up made his heart swell with joy.
Whether you were more excited to see the lights or go on a date with Belphie is your secret.
He decided that he wanted to do everything in his power to make the night perfect for you. Beel was surprised to see his brother putting in so much effort; but, when he questioned it, Belphie just shrugged it off.
You had to stay a bit late at RAD that night. You had some tasks that you had to finish so Belphie offered to pick you up when you were done. You promised it would be in enough time to make it up the mountain before the lights came. Belphie insisted that it would give you the best view. But, you had lost track of time, and you knew you might be cutting it close now.
When you were done, you called Belphie, but there was no answer. You tried calling again, but still no answer. You tried texting him again, waiting for a response. 
Beel was sitting next to Belphie who was completely passed out on the couch. Beel saw as your name and picture lit up the screen of his D.D.D. but the ringing went completely unnoticed by Belphie.
Beel started having a huge debate with himself. He knew better than to wake his twin brother up. Usually, the consequences of waking him up from a good nap highly outweighed the benefits. But, Beel figured he would be a lot more mad if he missed his date with you.
Taking in a deep breath, Beel gently shook Belphie’s shoulders. “Belphie, wake up,” Beel stated. Belphie let out a small groan of resistance and Beel continued. “You’re going to miss your date with Y/N.”
Belphie’s eyes suddenly shot open as he came face to face with Beel. He immediately scrambled for his D.D.D. and looked at the time. He couldn’t believe he fell asleep at such an important time!
I’ll be right there.
He immediately sent the message and rushed out the door with the bag that had a cozy blanket and Beel’s snacks along with a couple other things.
Belphie arrived at RAD soon after and saw you outside in the courtyard. “Y/N! Come on, we’re not going to make it if we don’t leave!”
“Belphie,” you said softly. “It’s already starting,” you added. His face immediately fell into a frown as he looked up at the sky and saw it slowly begin to shift color.
You noticed the bag he was holding and the blanket that was sticking partly out of it. You looked around and noticed a nearby bench that had a perfect view of the sky. Sure, you wouldn’t be nearly as close to the lights, but it’d still be perfect in its own way.
You took Belphie by the hand and led him over to the bench. You took the bag from him and took out the blanket before sitting down next to him.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep - I wanted tonight to be perfect for you,” he told you, the frown still on his lips.
“You make it perfect,” you told him, placing a small kiss on his cheek. Belphie blushed as you spread the blanket across the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you as you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked at the sky, watching the lights that displayed across it.
Belphie pulled you closer, taking in every second of this moment. Every time the two of you had plans from now on, he would always make sure to set multiple alarms to wake him up.
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