#finally realized that today... but i think my body and me will appreciate it

[inutiliacapra]

GRIFFIN!!! OF SELF CARE!! i did alot of self care today :D

self care includes: having a good therapy sesh.. got sum melatonin gummies and getting 8 hours of sleep tonight... showered really good.. brushed teeth and used lotion... took my meds on time... and also made myself dinna (sausage and garlic bread :3)

i also finally used the rest of the wood from my closet, so back to digital art!!!!

[davinawritings]

Rich Monster husband that loves to spoil his little human wife.

He handles everything money-wise, so you never have to think about it. He spoils you with a mansion and unlimited shopping trips. He hires a private chef and housekeeping team, so you never have to lift a finger.

He schedules you for a nail salon appointment and a spa day every two weeks. He loves how happy you look when you return from being properly pampered. He just finds you so precious and cute that he wants to give you everything your heart desires.

One day, you come home from your nail appointment and find him working in his study. Your monster doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his lap, smiling at the joy radiating from you. You are always excited to show him what color you picked for your nails, and today is no different.

You proudly show off your glossy manicure, saying, “Look, Daddy. I picked a color so we would match!”.

He keeps his smile on his face despite the confusion. He merely raises a brow and asks, “How are we matching little one? Last I checked, my nails aren’t painted.”

You let out a small giggle at his response, reaching between your legs to undo his pants and pull his already half-hard cock out. You stroke him firmly, causing him to groan, his large hands digging into the flesh of your hips.

“See, Daddy. We do match!” you say, pausing your hand at the top of his shaft. His eyes drop to his needy cock at your words.

He releases a deep growl as he realizes that his perfect little wife matched her nails to the exact color of his cock, specifically his flushed tip. You let out a small yelp as he stands, carrying you down the hall to the main bedroom.

Within seconds, he has you naked with your thighs thrown over his shoulders. He eats you out until you have tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation. One orgasm ends as the next begins. He doesn’t let up until he decides that he has had his fill of your dripping cunt.

Your legs are still shaking as he finally pulls away, lifting you and placing you farther up on the bed, the plush pillows cradling your head, and he hovers above you.

“Such a perfect little wife. Always so good for me, wanting to match her nails to my cock. Just the sweetest fucking wife to ever exist”, he says while leaving wet kisses all over your face.

You sigh happily at the praise, loving his affection. His words and large body making you feel safe and loved.

You cling to him as he lines his leaking tip up with your entrance. Your freshly done nails are digging into his muscles. You let out a low whine as he says, “You aren’t leaving this bed today, baby. I’m going to keep you on my cock all fucking day. I need my baby to know just how loved and appreciated she is. Keep your perfect cunt stretched and filled, just the way you like it”.

You smile at his words, knowing there is no place you would rather be than on his cock for the rest of the day.

❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Your Teddy ~ Theodore Nott x f!reader (Drabble)

Requested: No

Pairing: Theodore Nott x f!reader

Summary: Theo has only felt pain ever since y/n was kidnapped by Death Eaters, but her return might even be just as painful.

Word count: 811

Warnings: slight mentions of torture; angst; English is not my first language

A/N: I will post the second part on Friday, let me know if you want to be tagged! This is my first time writing for Theo and it's rushed, so I hope it's still alright. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan

Ignoring the people around him and their confused looks, Theo ran through the corridors, with only four words in his mind - we found miss y/n.  

He had spent three months, three months waiting for her to come back, for her to give him any sign, for her to come back to him, for his whole body and mind to function normally again. It had been three months since y/n had disappeared, captured by Death Eaters one week before winter break. The image of her, defenseless and screaming as she was being tortured had been plaguing Theo ever since, and he hadn’t been able to think of anything else other than he didn't know where y/n was, if she was even alive or not, and what kind of atrocities she was facing. He had completely stopped going to class, stopped going to the Great Hall for meals - despite how many times his friends had asked him to come, saying y/n wouldn’t want him to be like that -, staying in his dorm instead, where even despite the constant closed shutters, he couldn’t even sleep, as he had terrible nightmares of y/n screaming for him as she was being tortured every time he tried to sleep. 

He had tried to look for her, of course. How could he not? But old Dumbledore had anticipated it, and had ordonned him to not leave the castle without a teacher. The first few weeks, Theo had been going almost every day to Dumbledore’s office, asking if there was new information about where y/n was, and he always got the same answer. I’m sorry to tell you that we do not. But trust, Mr Nott, that we are actively looking for her and that I am sure that we will find her. At the beginning, Theo had somehow managed to control his anger and frustration, but at one point, he had screamed at the headmaster, saying that it wasn’t enough, that no one could understand what it was like, and even had broken a few items. 

But, today, Professor Snape had knocked on his door, saying the four words Theo had been dreaming to hear. And now here he was, running to the hospital wing. He only slowed down when he arrived by its door, and, still breathless from the running, immediately opened the door, and then rushed inside to the only bed that was currently occupied. 

“y/n!”

“Mr. Nott, please don’t-”

But Theo ignored Mrs Pomfrey’s words and walked past her, instead going to sit on the bed and hugging y/n’s body as hard as he could. Mrs Pomfrey continued to protest and ask him to stop, but he couldn’t care less. All that mattered was here, in his arms. He gently stroked her hair, feeling his eyes burn with tears. All the pain, stress, fear and anger that he had felt from the moment he learned that she had disappeared faded away, replaced with her warmth presence and the feeling that fucking finally, she was safe, safe in his arms like she was supposed to be. 

“Cazzo, y/n, baby. I missed you so much.” 

You’re here. You’re here. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. 

He slightly detached himself from her but only to kiss her forehead and look at her, look at the face and eyes he had fallen so hard in love with. But instead of looking at him with warm eyes full of love like she always did, there was only confusion - which was also shown in her frowning - and that was the moment he realized she didn’t hug him back, or even touched him at all. 

“Um, I…I’m sorry, but…who are you?” 

If Theo thought he had known pain every second of y/n’s absence, that was nothing compared to the heartbreak her words caused throughout his whole body and mind. He was now also confused, and his arms dropped from her by themselves. 

“y/n…It’s me…Teddy.”

Your Teddy. 

“You…” He had never struggled to find his words so much before. “You don’t recognize me?”

y/n opened her mouth to answer, apparently embarrassed and turned to the matron for help. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nott, but Miss y/l/n lost all her memories. Professor Dumbledore and I are still trying to figure out why, and how to bring her memory back,” she said with a kind voice, before turning to y/n and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Miss y/l/n, this is Theodore Nott, your boyfriend.” 

No! Not Theodore, not Theo, fucking damn it. It’s Teddy for her. For her and nobody else. Teddy. 

Her Teddy.

y/n nodded and looked at Theo.

“I’m sorry for not remembering you. I can’t remember anything, really.”

Theo rose from the bed. 

“No, I’m sorry.”

Not wanting for an answer, he turned around and left the hospital’s wing, feeling more broken than when he entered it.

PART 2

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box!

Masterlist

Next projects

[kasagia]

Skin and bones

Pairing: Halbrand/Annatar/We know who x fem!elf! reader Summary: Ever since Galadriel revealed Halbrand's true identity, you've been having some very strange dreams… dreams that aren't the innocent figments of your imagination you thought they were. Warning: I HAVEN'T WATCHED THE RINGS OF POWER. All my knowledge is based on fanfics, short scenes posted on yt and uncle google. I just couldn't get this guy out of my mind... And I don't regret anything. Inspired by: David Kushner - "Skin and bones" Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Y/N…" A cold shiver runs down your spine as you feel HIS hot, quiet, velvety whisper in your ear. You keep your eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see what image your mind, tired from today's meetings, has put before you this time.

For days now, your imagination had been tormenting you with strange dreams. Dreams in which you were haunted by him.

Halbrand.

You avoided speaking his true name. Somehow, the face of the one you should have hated with all your heart did not match the face of the one who had spent so many weeks by your and Galadriel's side.

And it scared you immensely. So much so that you weren't sure you could pretend to the light elf that you were haunted by the shadows of your past.

Galardiel once told you that to know true light, one must touch the darkness. But what do you do when that darkness becomes more attractive than light? What do you do to resist that magnetism? How do you enjoy the glow of pure light on your skin again when you still have spots of darkness on you in the shape of HIS fingerprints?

"Y/N." Another whisper, another brush of warm air against your cool skin, this time on your neck. Goosebumps rise up your spine, your hand shakes uncontrollably, trying to desperatly grasp something you can't see. "Let go. Just let go. I'm waiting here for you. With open arms, mime írima kal (my lovely light)."

The feathery touch of HIS lips against your earlobe sends a shiver through your body. Even though you are in complete darkness, you are perfectly aware that he is near, that his presence is right next to you.

Physically you could be miles away from each other but spiritually... spiritually he has made sure that he will haunt you every night.

"You miss me. You miss the feeling of power I gave you. The darkness you could hide in, when you were too tired of playing the hero no one appreciates as they should. Just as I miss your light. Your laugh. Your mind. Your lips. Your body..." His lips move with each sentence down your cheek and to your neck, leaving a gentle kiss as if he was appreciating your skin and paid tribute to it.

He was right. You missed this. Him. He was addictive. And like any addiction, you should cut yourself off before it goes too far... but hasn't it gone too far already?

"Do you think you can hide from me? That any elven friend of yours could disrupt my vision of you? That I would stop watching you at night in the darkness of your chambers, waiting for the moment when you finally realize that the cold you feel is caused by my lack of physical presence with you? Tell me, my beautiful, stubborn elf, when will you realize that the warmth you long for is found in my darkness and not in the light of your golden sunlight?"

You gasp as HE suddenly grabs you by the neck and uses his fingertips to force you to turn your head towards him. His mouth attacks yours with a huge force of possessiveness, anger, frustration, lust, as if he were going to conquer you by using only his soft lips and a silver-tongue trained over the centuries he spend on seducing others to his will.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn't be the next victim of his games and manipulation.

That's why you let him kiss you. Not because you enjoy it and miss the feeling of his lips on yours. You tangle your hands in his hair, shivering as you feel the cold metal of his spiked crown against the pads of your fingers.

You managed to let his guard down, letting his tongue tangle with yours in a familiar, passionate dance you used to indulge in when you knew him not as a Dark Lord but as a mere blacksmith. An electric jolt runs through you, stealing all the air from your lungs and making your mind cloud with lust—but not strong enough to make you completely forget about your plan.

Before he can realise it, you bite his lower lip and push him away from you. You summon all your power that he hasn't timed in your sleep and push him out of your unconscious mind. You can hear his loud growl of rage and the clang of his metal armour against the rocks as you fall into nothingness.

A loud thud echoes through the room you and Galadriel have rented as you fall from the small bed onto the wooden floor. You groan, propping yourself up on your elbows and cursing under your breath as you wake up from yet another dream HE has taken over.

"Another one? Which one is it this week? Third?" You sigh at the question from the elf sitting on the bed across the small tavern room. You nod reluctantly and stand up, dusting off the dust and dirt from the floor.

"I'm not counting. I lost count about a two months ago anyway." You mumble, ignoring the fact that these dreams started much earlier. You turn your back to her, hiding the blush that blooms on your cheeks as you remember how… naughty your dreams were.

Before you realized that your… night visions weren't just yours, you and he… were doing all sorts of things. Most of them weren't really things you could speak about out loud. And as much as you're ashamed of them, you have to admit they were the best nights of sleep you've had since… you found out the truth about him.

"I keep wondering how he creates this connection with you? It's a bridge that shouldn't be created without… the willingness of both sides."

“It’s Sauron.” You reply, making sure to pronounce his name with just the right amount of disgust in your voice. "He has powers that allow him to break the rules. You know that."

"Still… they shouldn't be that strong."

"Are you suggesting something, Galadriel? Do you think I would really seek him out willingly? He has deceived us. He has deceived you and me. He wants to destroy Middle-earth, do you think I would willingly seek contact with him for any other purpose than to finally kill him?"

Your accusatory tone comes out a little stronger than you intended. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a few calming breaths, trying to calm the anger boiling inside you.

"I trust you. If I trust anyone, it's you, Y/N. I'm not your enemy here." She responds calmly and walks over to you. She cups your cheeks in her hands and rests her forehead against yours.

"I am highly aware." You respond and place your hands on the sides of her neck. "I'm just... tired. That's all." You sigh and rest your chin on her shoulder, snuggling into her.

You hold each other like that until she gently pulls away from you. She grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes.

"We all are. War is coming. Darkness is descending upon more of our lands. But together we will prevail. Sun and moon. We must work together if we are about to defeat him and Morgoth." Galadriel spoke, tightening her grip on your hands.

"I know." You mumble and shake your head. You remove your hands from her grip and turn to face the window, watching the sun slowly rise. “Which doesn’t mean he won’t see it coming. Because he will. We have to move faster, think five step ahead than he does if we want the light to break through his army of darkness.” You say not turning to face her since you're too afraid of what she'll find in your eyes. Galadriel sighs but doesn't try to catch your attention anymore.

"I guess we won't get any more sleep tonight. Get ready. I'll go find Erlond." She looks at you a little longer, her gaze burning on your back, but you stubbornly stare out at the valleys lit by the glow of the sun breaking through the morning mist, not yet feeling ready to face what is outside.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the door closes behind her. You turn one of the rings forged by HIM, which you have placed on your necklace, in your hands, quietly wondering if you should really do what you were about to do. But since he's decided to play dirty against you for weeks... you might as well start returning his little blows, too.

You close your eyes and place the ring on your finger. You hold your breath as the familiar surge of power makes your blood pump a little harder and your eyes sharpen to your surroundings. The outlines of the valleys in the distance become much clearer, and you can almost smell the forest that lies miles away.

You know he can sense where you are if you let him. So you take a little risk and remove the protective shield that keeps you away from him. And Sauron bursts through your slightly ajar door as if into a rabbit hole.

"If you're out there somewhere… if you can hear me… know that you've given me enough darkness to rip your black heart from your chest without blinking, mime melin cotumo."

Maybe calling him your dear enemy wasn't the best thing to end your threat, but the only thing that could leave your lips when you addressed him were such nicknames. Never the names you knew him by. Especially the name under which he hid when you so naively gave him part of your heart.

"Are you, Y/N?"

His whispered question echoes through the empty room. You immediately throw him out and slam the door on his ghostly presence, blocking his vision of you again. You want to celebrate this small victory over him, showing him that you are still in control, but you both know it's just an illusion. An illusion you're desperately trying to fall for. Unfortunately, you guess you're not as good at them as he is.

"I don't like him." You say to Galadriel, eyeing Annatar carefully.

You held little Celebrían in your arms and watched as Celeborn, Celebrimbor, and Annatar chatted in the distance, enjoying the party Celebrimbor had thrown for your arrival.

"He is… quiet around us. But that doesn't mean we have to be hostile towards him right away. We can't be overly suspicious." Galadriel says and takes her daughter from you, who begins to cry quietly. You sigh, looking at the child in her arms.

"In these times we can be as suspicious as we want, Galadriel. Middle-earth is even more divided; we elves do not have such a solid, strong united front. If Sauron decides to attack with his orcs, they will crush us one by one. We must act, not be stuck in pointless parties."

"Parties are also part of diplomacy. I'm off to melt the hearts of the ladies of other lands with this sweet little bundle. Try not to spit venom at others. We need allies, as you well noticed." And with that, she leaves you to drown your bitter thoughts in a glass of wine completely alone.

You snort, not paying attention to what's going on around you. The ring that hangs around your neck under your clothes burns your skin mercilessly as you try with all your might to push away the memories of the nap you took after arriving.

Warm, black furs clung to you as you slept soundly in your soft bed. In the background, you could hear the crackling of the fire burning in the fireplace. You were tucked into warm pillows and blankets, the tip of your nose exposed to the cool air outside, being the only thing that was bothering you from resting in your bed.

After a while it turned out that it wasn't just one thing that was supposed to bother you.

You gasp as a strong arm suddenly wraps around your waist. The blankets are lifted, and the cool air assaults your skin, sending goosebumps up your spine. A moment later, you feel yourself pressed against someone's bare, muscular chest.

"Is my queen comfortable enough?" He whispers teasingly in your ear and nuzzles your temple, tightening his grip on you as you try to squirm out of his arms. But he doesn't give you that chance.

He grabs both of your wrists and presses them to your chest as he straddles you. Black fur clings to his back, the only covering he's wearing.

"Do you intend to defile me in your dreams when in reality you cannot lay even the smallest fingertip upon me? You grow more pathetic with the passing centuries." You growl at him angrily, kicking beneath him and trying to break free from his grip.

"You will beg for my touch. I will make your cries heard throughout all the Middle-Earth." He murmurs a promise against your lips and leans down, capturing your lips in an aggressive, passionate kiss that sets every fiber of your being on fire.

The surroundings around you change rapidly. Suddenly, you are completely alone in a black and gold throne room. The only source of light is the rays reflected off a golden throne engraved with a sun.

You glance around frantically, searching for him and a weapon you could use against him. You take a few steps back, heading unconsciously toward the two thrones on the dais. You gasp as your foot touches the tiled mechanism beneath you.

The throne room begins to change, darkness giving way to light, the black marble turning white. But the entire chamber, instead of being divided in half by two colours, blends into grey. The golden throne turns white, and the black as night one becomes a lighter shade of black, almost greige. You turn your face to the landscape outside the window and gasp at what you see.

All of Middle-earth. Divided, but still... a coherent whole. Each of the lands was arranged so as to separate races that got in each other's way, where conflict could arise. The lands of the Orcs were in a barren wasteland, where life could not have arisen anyway, but they made their kingdom on it. All separated from each other by walls of mountains so high that even from the height where the palace was located, it was difficult to see the top of their mountains and the paths of the passes.

You shiver as the heavy, cool metal of the crown settles against your temples. He quickly grabs your shoulders and digs his fingers into you. He holds you against him, forcing you to stare at the land before you, a land you barely recognise anymore.

"We could have that. All of that. I would place a crown on your head, make them all bow to you. Make them bow to us. I would heal Middle-earth of strife and war, make them all live in harmony in their own worlds."

"Would you confine them within the boundaries of their lands? What if they run out of space? Would you move mountains? Would you remake the world? You won't fix them this way; you can't avoid wars and bloodshed. Who do you think you are to decide how the world is suspposed to look like?" You ask him angrily, turning in his arms.

You bravely hold Halbrand’s watchful gaze as he analyses your words carefully, probably thinking of ways to make you join his side, ways to make you see his case in a completely different light.

And you hope you'll have the self-control to reject every single one of them - every little tempting suggestion of the future he wants to show you.

"Amil! (Mommy!)" The joyful cry of a child and the dull thud of tiny feet hitting the floor later are the only warning you get before something small pounces on your legs.

You stubbornly don't look down, but into the eyes of the man in front of you, because you know that once your eyes land on the little projection of a child he wants to show you, you'll be haunted for the rest of your life by the image of what you could have had with him.

“You won't even look at our son, Y/N?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you, daring you to show him how much you don’t care or care about the future he has to offer you.

So you gather all the strength you have inside you and lean down to take the little boy into your arms. He mumbles something, playing with the necklace around your neck.

The boy has his dark hair. And your eyes. And he's too damn cute for you to ever forget the vision he shows you, that he created to torture you forever.

"How long would it take you to instill your dark, poisonous thoughts in him?" You ask with a trembling voice, giving him a look full of pain and dismay.

"I've told you many times, mime melin hon. With you by my side I would have no darkness within me." He mumbles and reaches up to stroke your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I will make you mine. Even if it was the last thing I would do. With or without your consent, I will bind you to me and make you who you were always meant to be: My queen."

You shiver as he places a tender kiss on your forehead. You hold back a broken sob as the weight of the baby on your hip begins to fade and his touch becomes just a hazy memory as you wake from this beautiful and terrifying dream.

“Can you do me the great honour of dancing with you, my lady?” You shiver when you suddenly hear someone's voice next to you. You turn around and barely keep a grimace from forming on your face when the platinum hair of the hated elf catches your eye.

"Lord Annatar. I thought you weren't dancing tonight?" You say in a forced, pleasant tone of voice and nod towards the elf whose invitation to dance he declined. He becomes embarrassed at this and clears his throat awkwardly.

"I simply have been saving my first dance in the hope that my lady of the sun would consent to grace me with it." You present him with your practiced smile, internally cursing him for being so thoughtful with his choice of words. Refusing him would be like spitting in his face - something Galadriel would clearly disapprove of.

"How could I be so cruel in this situation and refuse you, Lord of Gifts?" You tease him flirtatiously, seeing an opportunity in his obvious little affection, and offer him your hand.

You tremble as an electric shiver suddenly runs through you. The strange reaction to his closeness makes your brain buzz with thoughts. Especially when the ring hidden under the material of your dress begins to heat up.

"I may be… but right now I feel like I've received the greatest gift from you, my lady." He says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your hand. He confidently leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and being a little too close than was required for this particular dance.

His closeness overwhelms you. Not in a positive way. He seems suspiciously too familiar. Your body doesn't react to him as to a stranger; on the contrary, you immerse yourself in his touch as if it were familiar, comforting. You sense that something is wrong, but you can't say what yet.

"Do you like the rings we've been forging lately? Galadriel probably won't be too keen on his... idea."

"Because he follows in Sauron's footsteps. Perhaps we can dissuade him from this path. Together." You see his jaw tense slightly at your words. His grip on you tightens a little and he seems... flustered.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, trying to understand his reaction, as well as why with every little touch he makes the ring on your chest burns like it's on fire.

"I truly believe we would be a great unit, úrin-o i world." You tremble when he calls you the sun of the world just as you tremble when he places his hands on your hips and lifts you.

He's in no hurry to put you down. It's as if he was deliberately prolonging this moment, and you let yourself be caught in the hypnotized state that his eyes bring you to.

For a moment, nothing exists except the two of you. It's just you and him. The dancing couples swirling around you momentarily become a blur.

You gasp when, for a moment, instead of Annatar's face, you see Halbrand. His mesmerising blue eyes pierce through you, making it all you can do to lean closer to him.

Your vision ends the moment one of the couples crashes into you. You land awkwardly on Annatar's chest, only his arms keeping you from falling. The couple apologizes and he just nods, pulling the two of you to the sidelines to a more secluded place.

You sigh, staring at him, your breathing heavy, not from the exertion of the dance, but from what you saw when you danced with him. Or rather, who.

"What are you?" You ask suspiciously, but he raises a surprised eyebrow at you, as if your sudden hostility was unfounded.

"You know who I am. Don't you, my Lady of the Sun?" You swallow hard at his question, but before you can answer him, Galadriel steps between you and him. A very angry and irritated Galadriel.

"He is of an unsound mind. How can he ignore what is so obvious? No one who follows the path that Sauron trod can call himself anything but his ally. I am leaving first thing in the morning. We cannot waste time while he is somewhere nearby, preparing an army against us."

"Perhaps you are giving him too much thought, my lady?" Annatar makes a sarcastic remark, but Galadriel ignores him and walks furiously away from the two of you, not even waiting for her husband, who has just reached the three of you.

"Galadriel..." You call out to her but she ignores you. "Galadriel!" Celeborn nods apologetically and follows the elf with the child in his arms. You stand in shock in the middle of the room and stare at the leaving elves.

"I don't blame them. You know what they're talking about... and about who they're talking." Annatar says, nodding at Celebrimbor. He stands alone in the corner, looking around nervously. "It would be best if you followed your lady." He advises you like a nasty snake that coils around your leg and whispers unwanted things in your ear.

You flinch and turn so you can fully look at him. He liked to play games. So he'll get one from you. You won't leave this palace without a promise from Celebrimbor to join you in case... if HE tries to attack.

Galadriel wanted to resort to desperate measures—she wanted to warn Adar that Sauron lived and wanted to use orcs in his plan to change Middle-earth. If you were to choose allies, you would rather heal the mind of an elf in whom you saw even a shred of light.

"I am my own lady. I do not have to follow anyone. Besides, I think you could use some help here, dear Annatar." You reply with a sweet smile. You see his jaw tense a little at your words. He clearly didn't want you around - that's why you had to stay here and see what the Lord of Gifts - the supposed envoy of the Valar was really doing in Eregion.

"Hm... that would be an honour to have you as our guest, my lady."

He says, smiling mysteriously at you. A shiver runs down your spine, and you already know that this won't be as much fun for you as it will be for him.

As if on cue, you drift off into blissful, dark unconsciousness.

"Fighting by your side… I felt like I could hold onto that feeling. Bind it in my very being."

"I felt it to." You mumble, staring at Halbrand's slightly bruised and scratched face.

You often had dreams like that. Flashbacks of past events. Sometimes they were real, and sometimes he was just playing with you in dreamland again, reenacting past events and laughing in your face, mocking you as you relived the same thing.

So I guess nothing has changed… if, knowing who I am, you still kiss me with such burning passion, my sunshine.

Cheap line. You managed to punch him for it many times. But that only seems to make him more cocky. So you stopped and instead looked for some way to get out of these dreams.

But now, as he leaned down and kissed you as sweetly as he had before... you could do nothing but moan and grab his hair in your fist as you pressed yourself against him, hating every bit of armour that covered your bodies and was separating you from him.

"The Valar must have spent aeons crafting those raspberry-sweet lips." He mumbles against your lips and cups your cheek in his hand. He pushes you back gently, your back pressing against the tree trunk you were sitting on.

You pretend you didn't notice that that little comment never came out of his mouth back then, and you take advantage of his moment of distraction. You take out your dagger and press it to his neck, pushing him away from you.

He needs a moment to process what happened. He chuckles raggedly and shakes his head slightly—just enough so that your blade doesn't even scratch his skin.

"What gave me away?"

"Sweet lips?" You mock him, pinning him against the rough tree trunk.

"I tried to be romantic with you, my beloved nemesis. Almost the same as that Lord of Gifts of yours, wasn't it?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. The cocky smirk doesn't leave his face even as you straddle him with the blade at his neck. You want to pierce all of his arteries, but his comment about Annatara catches your attention more than the murderous urge he's inspired in you.

"Jealous?"

"Intrigued. Do you like him?" He corrects you and asks a question that makes you want to laugh. As if there was anyone else besides him who could hold your attention for longer…

"Are you afraid that it will take your place as the worst, most venomous snake I have ever encountered?"

"Oh please… we both know that's not the only thing I'm best at. I remember one night perfectly, when…" You press the metal of the blade to his neck and draw blood from him. A black stream runs down his skin, soaking into the tree trunk, which instantly rots. "I understand. You want to be the one to dominate today?"

You snort in frustration at him and push yourself away from him. You take a few steps away from him and watch him closely as he slowly stands up and catches up with you.

"Only if you let me plunge my blade into your black, cold heart."

"Only if you acknowledge the fact that it beats only for you." He whispers and gently cups your cheek with his hand. You tremble, unable to move away from him or make any movement except to stare at him. Anger and something else—a feeling you're terrified to admit to—boil inside you like crazy. And that's all because of him.

"As if you could love anyone but yourself." You answer shakily as he leans toward you. He kisses you again, more gently, more tenderly.

He lifts your chin with two fingers, demanding full access to your mouth, as if the way he kisses you is to prove to you that he is capable of love—that he is capable of giving himself over to a mad passion that he cannot control, as if you were truly his lady.

And it is out of fear that he will manage to squeeze out of you that little challenge that he so desires that you reach for the dagger you had abandoned earlier and brutally plunge it into your heart, bypassing the plates of your armor.

You gasp, tearing yourself out of the dream he has entangled you in, but only to find yourself in a real nightmare.

You look around in panic as you see only orcs above you. The dead body of a dark elf is being torn apart by them, as if they were performing some kind of ritual over the dead. They are talking to each other in the black language, clearly too distracted to pay much attention to you.

You reach out for their abandoned weapon beside you, but you can't move much. You groan as a foot steps on your wrist, hard enough to pin your hand in place but gentle enough not to break or crush your bone.

You lift your head and bite your lip, drawing blood when you see who is standing over you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my sweet nemesis." Annatar says and nods to the two orcs closest to you. They walk over and hold you by the arms, lifting you to your feet.

"Sauron." You snap at him furiously, putting as much venom and hatred as you can into saying his real name.

"Hello, darling. Many years, centuries even, but it still seems like one day, right?" He mockingly responds to your seething fury. You watch him closely and freeze when you see that he holds not only his crown in his hand but Galadriel's ring as well.

He had two of the three forged for the elves. The last one... hung around your neck. And he could have taken it anytime he wanted. But he would have to pry it off your dead body if he really wanted it.

"You were more handsome as a brunette." You spit insults at him, trying to stay as calm as you can as he begins to walk forward. The orcs lead you right next to him.

"I can transform back into Halbrand just for you. Would you prefer that, my lady?" You press your lips together in a thin line, about to answer him, but he's already using his powers, and before you can do anything, Halbrand appears before your eyes.

You turn your gaze away from him and try to focus on the burning desire to draw some blood that the orcs' touch on you inspires as they lead you toward what looks like a camp.

"I'd rather have you rotted in Mordor."

"Ahh… such ugly words on such a joyous day? After all, you don't get married every day, do you?" He asks casually, too excited for your liking; if the orcs weren't forcing you towards the large tent, you would have stopped dead in your tracks and stared at the back of his head in complete shock.

"Married?" You repeat his words stupidly. The orcs hand you to him after you enter the large tent and quickly flee at their lord's beck and call. Halbrand... Sauron sets his crown down at the foot of the makeshift bed and turns to regard you, a huge, cocky grin on his face that you once found sexy. In the current situation, it only irritated you more.

"I promised you I would make you a queen. My queen. I have a crown, an army, and land. The only thing that is missing is you by my side—exactly as the Valar planned." He’s been explaining this to you for the umpteenth time, as if you were a carefree child to whom he had to explain something in a simple, banal way. You clench your fists and take one deep, calming breath.

"I'd rather die."

"No, you don't. Don't blaspheme like that. We both know that's what you want. I'm only doing you a favour by taking away your free will, giving you the illusion that I'm forcing you to do this against your will, so you don't have to feel guilty about acting on your heart's desires." He answers confidently, stubbornly, in a tone you knew—a tone he had used a thousand times when negotiating with kings, queens, and nobles.

Back then, when you thought he was just a man, you were charmed by his chearism, his self-confidence, and his unwavering actions. Now you saw how dangerous that was.

"You don't know my heart's desires." You whisper as he stops in front of you. But he doesn't move to touch you, does nothing but stand there and watch you.

You want to curse him for turning back into Halbrand and for showing you this illusion. It was much easier for you to reject Annatar than him... ironic, since it was Halbrand that betrayed you more than any other being.

"Another lie. I think you've gotten a lot better at it than I have in my absence, my dear sunshine."

You snort when he calls you that. The moment you open your mouth to answer, he leans in and steals your kiss and your breath. He pulls you to him by the material of your dress and perfectly ignores any thumps in your chest you give him. You jerk against his grip, bite his lip, and do everything to pull away from him. But he doesn't let go. Not until you're gasping for air and your lips are swollen, your clothes and hair a mess just like all of you.

"You know... I am not surprised you lied to me all this time. I mean... living for so long can trick your mind. You probably don't know your true self anymore, do you? When was the last time someone called you by your true name? Not with insult or fear, but with affection, maybe even sympathy?"

"Why? Want to change that, I úrin -o mime coiv- (the sun of my life)?" He asks, slowly pulling away from you. You ignore your instincts to follow his touch and stand frozen in place as he walks over to his abandoned crown.

"Are you just going to rule them? In the hopes that they won't kill you again? That I won't convince them to do so?"

"Fear is a powerful ally. And something tells me you'd rather have me alive than dead." He answers calmly and places his crown on your head. You frown as the cool metal settles on your temple.

You let him play with you for a moment and treat you like a doll he can do anything to. You waited for the perfect moment to attack, to throw him off balance. You wouldn't give in to him without a fight. Not when you still had at least a shred of strength to resist the darkness calling out to you.

"Not as powerful ally as love." Your response makes him more thoughtful. He stares at you, contemplating the sight of you in his crown, as if trying to forever engrave the image in his mind… to bind it to his very being.

"Indeed. But you either have one of them." He nods and runs his fingertips over your exposed shoulder. You shiver as he grazes the metal of your necklace.

"And what did you want? From me?" You see him soften noticeably at your question. Something like affection… maybe even tenderness or love appears in his eyes as he moves his hand to your neck, cupping it gently.

"You know my heart's desire, Y/N. Just as I know yours." He mumbles your name barely audible and leans in closer to you. You shiver as his bearded cheek brushes against yours, his soft lips caressing your earlobe as he whispers: "I don't have to say it out loud for you to know it."

"No… you don't have to." You respond and cup his cheek in your hand. He freezes at the sudden display of affection from you and involuntarily buries his face in your palm, closing his eyes. You lean down and press a small kiss to his cheek. He sighs tiredly, as if he had travelled a truly polynomial distance, and allows himself to melt in your touch. "Because I'd rather cut your tongue out than listen to another lie from you."

Before he can react, you're already reaching for his dagger. You press it to his neck, but he shakes off your little seduction and pushes you away from him roughly. You fall with the yak onto the mattress behind you, the crown falling off your head with a clatter to the floor as you stare at him intently, both of you aiming your blades at each other.

"In some races dagger is considered as one of the love's language." She mocks you, wiping the black blood off his neck with her free hand. He licks it off—a demonstration at which you hold your breath for a moment. Bloody bastard.

"I always preferred to consider it death's language." You respond and lunge at him again. He blocks your blade with his own and grabs your arm. You hiss at the hard, painful swipe of his fingers against your skin as he leans toward you, giving you one of his long, enigmatic, dark stares.

"You know what the difference is between me and them, Y/N? They fear you, what you can do, the power you wield with such grace, like it's nothing. But I'm willing to burn in the light of your sun if it means having you by my side."

"Rather, if it means gaining that power for yourself." You growl and kick him. He falls on his back in surprise at your strength, which you take advantage of and run forward—straight to the exit of the tent.

You run through the camp and quickly take the ring from your neck. You put it on your finger and, using the power it gives you, cast illusions on yourself, becoming invisible to the orcs. You hear Halb... Sauron's shouts behind you, ordering the orcs to find you and bring you alive to him. He himself gives chase through the forest. And you have to admit that he is not so far from you.

You run as long as your legs give you strength. You stop in some clearing with a small stream. You try to find a safe hiding place, hide, and wait out the mad pursuit. And just when you think you've made it, he emerges from behind the trees.

"Y/N! I know you are here! I can feel you! I will always..." He pauses, his voice shaking, and you realise this is the second time you've seen him so... vulnerable and open. It's a dangerous reaction from him. Either it's real... or he's using it as a card in his game to win yet another game he's playing with you. "I would make you a queen. In a heartbeat. You don't have to do anything. Just come with me."

And you really wish it were that simple. But you don't know if you could look at yourself in the mirror if you just so blatantly betrayed them and everything you know for… him and his lies. As beautiful and tempting as they were.

"Queen of slaves like you!" You scream, comming out from your hidding place and attack him.

"Yes! I am a slave! I am a slave to you, Y/N. At least I have the courage to admit it to myself and to you. And you, my queen?" He says each sentence every time your blades strike each other with a metallic clang.

"Don't forget about Mogoth, my king." You mock him and hit him more and more aggressively, each of your blows a precise attack on him.

"You're going to bind to me. Willingly or not, and I will relish every moment of it." He growls and finally knocks the blade out of your hand, and he grabs your wrists, twisting your arms behind you and pressing your back against his chest, the blade at your neck gently teasing your skin, as do his lips against your temple. "Let go. Just let go. I know you are tired. Let me help you. Let me carry for you all your worries and the hatred of the Middle-earth. Let me make you my queen. Heal this world with me."

"Only if you will made ma a crown from your skin and bones." You gasp, fighting his grip, trying to twist from the iron grip his arms have on you, but it's not as easy as it might seem. He pins you to the ground, straddling you, and stares at you, breathing heavily.

"I will wrap you in them, if that's what I need to keep you at my side!"

His cry echoes through the empty clearing. For a moment, you stare at each other, not making a move. The sound of the stream around you is the only other song playing in accompaniment to your heavy heartbeat, which you can hear in the deafening emptiness that surrounds you. The world stops. Again, when you're close to him.

"I did not desire power as much as I desire you. You hurt me more than Morgoth ever did; you poison me more than the darkness. I think of you every morning, afternoon, and night. You are like a poison that I cannot draw from myself. You are the light that blinds me, that destroys me, but I cling to it like a child in the dark. Even though the darkness has been a much longer and more loyal companion to me than you." He mumbles, pressing wild kisses to your face.

You moan as his lips and rough beard abuse your neck worse than the blade he had brought to you moments ago, which he had driven into the ground beside you. You had nothing. No weapon to attack him with, to protect yourself from his sweet lips and the burning touch that stirred desires so shameful and so familiar in you.

"A pathological liar." You gasp as he hastily undoes your dress. But you do nothing to stop him. You can't anymore.

You feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, all the running away from him, all the fighting with him. Maybe you really were a lost cause; maybe you were always meant to blend with his darkness and try to balance it with your light. You don't know that. What you do know is that he feels too good against you for you to fight him any longer.

"Both of us. But I'm the only one here who doesn't deceive myself."

"I'd rather deceive myself than allow myself to think that I could desire someone like you." And it's awful that as you say that, you reach for him and help to undress him.

You were only proving that you really were a terrible liar and hypocrite. But how long could you hold back from touching the darkness that called out to you so sweetly?

"We both know this is much more than simple lust." He whispers, stroking your hair tenderly and pressing his lips to your forehead. His hands roam your exposed body, caressing every little part of you. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can forget for a moment who he really is—you can only see Halbrand and not HIM. "Tell me… what's it like to want to simultaneously pierce me with a sword, burn me at the stake, and cherish me in the privacy of your chambers, my dear sun?"

"Maddening." You whisper shakily, admitting what you feel.

A single tear rolls down your cheek—a tear that he quickly licks from you. He groans at the sweet-salty feeling of your tears and holds you tightly with his one arm as the other slowly begins to toy with your most sensitive place, preparing you for complete failure and defeat.

All you can feel is blissful pleasure as the darkness is touching you.

And just when he is about to bring you great pleasure, when he is about to unite the two of you as one after so long, he stops completely. You fidget, toss, and turn, seeking renewed contact with him that he does not grant you.

"I'll come for you. In one form or another. I'll make you my queen, whether you want me to or not. I may be a fraud, Y/N, but I don't have the strength to deceive myself. You'll understand when you will be my age. And I'll wait for that. I will wait for you to realise that I am the only one who sees you, accepts you, and adores you as you truly are. All you have to do is call for me." You almost cry in frustration as he pulls away from you, leaving only a ghostly touch on your skin as he continues to hold your wrists. "The sun is also having an eclipse, Y/N. I am your eclipse. And you will beg me to give you my darkness."

He places one last kiss on your forehead and then disappears. You sigh, looking around you, and realise with a shiver that he was never really there.

He tricked you. He connected with you through the ring you still wore on your finger and entered your mind as another illusion. You cry, your hand shakily pressed to your mouth as you try to keep from making any sound for fear that he and the orcs might still be nearby and sense you.

You bite your fingers as a pitiful cry wants to escape your lips; it starts as your mouth forms a cry of his name, but at the last moment you stop yourself. You grit your teeth and stand up from the ground. You dust off your dress and look around you.

The rising sun illuminates your face, but you no longer feel the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as you greet the morning light. You feel emptyness. A festering, burning emptiness. And the visible touch of HIS lips on your neck...

Sauron may have defeated you in your dreams and mind, but when it came to duels, when you faced each other in your own skin and bones, he lost. In the crucial moments, when he was about to make you his, you managed to slip away from him. You only fear how long you will be able to do so.

Especially since he has robbed you of all joy in the light and awakened a lust for the darkness you have touched with him...

And as you stared at the rising sun, you already knew that there would be no salvation for you, nothing that would make you forget about the electric thrill you felt every time you embraced the darkness with him.

Halbrand, Sauron, Annatar, whatever form he took, you were drawn to him. And you could either die, try to fight it, or accept it and try to save the little bit of light that was left in both of you. You didn't believe that after all the darkness he'd poured into you, he wouldn't get an ounce of your light from you in exchange. And if that tormented him as much as his darkness tormented you... then you felt at least a little less pathetic for falling in love with the Dark Lord of the Rings.

[ln444]

my english love affair

cw: MDNI+18, f!reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, fluff, smut, maybe slight angst? depends on how you see it lol, fingering (f), penetration, soft dirty talk, a lot (like a lot) of kissing and sharing long gazes, whipped lando again bc im obsessed sorry.

now playing: english love affair by 5sos, let me by zayn.

notes: omg this took so long 😭 i'm not really confident abt my smut, i feel like i'm writing fluff way better but i hope you like it!! i might write a part 2, let me know if you like this one! enjoy🤍

requested by anon | requests open!

______________________________________________

“when the lights go out, she's all i ever think, i can't forget my english love affair, today i'm seven thousand miles away”

the thought of finally going back to his f1 driver life fills lando with excitement. sure, lando loves england — it's his home, after all. but nothing can compare to the rush he feels when he's in an f1 car, traveling all around the world and meeting his fans.

for his last night town, lando's friends convinced him to hit the club. normally, he prefers staying in to rest before the start of the season but a little fun doesn't hurts, right? he won't have much time to do it during the grand prix.

despite his fame, lando still gets surprised when someone recognizes him, especially at the club. he knows he's known for his looks, and he's aware of the attention from admirers, but it still catches him off guard in real life. sometimes, the attention can be overwhelming, especially when he just wants to have a good time with his friends and ends up with some overly clingy girls.

lando decides to excuse himself, seeking some fresh air. the pressure of the coming season is getting to him, and the situation doesn't help. he finds a quiet spot with a few people smoking and making out, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a relieved sigh.

suddenly, a voice startles him from his thoughts, "did your friends force you to come here too?" his head jerks towards you, and you're standing beside him, out of nowhere. he takes time to answer, surprised by your unexpected presence. after realizing that he left you without any response, he clears his throat, a bit confused, "nah, just needed some fresh air" he mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips. you chuckle slightly, and comment "not surprised, having so many girls fawning over you must be exhausting", there's a small hint of tease in your voice that makes lando's smile grows.

finally, as he turns to study your features under the soft glow of the night lights, lando finds himself entranced by your captivating beauty, the grace of your features leaving an indelible impression on him. he can't help but get lost in your eyes shining in the dim illumination, making it difficult for him to look away. it takes him a good minute to quickly look away, thanking the night for hiding his rosé cheeks.

he gazes at the sky, trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound awkward — and also trying to get his shit together. he suddenly feels the need to make a good impression. "i mean, it's not that i don't appreciate the attention, but wow, they can be quite persistent."

his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes avoid meeting yours, fearing he might get lost in them again. "yeah, i know. they're my friends," you say with a small chuckle, not because he's making fun of them, but more because of the use of the term 'friends.'

lando's eyes widen, and he turns to you, 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-' but he stops himself, looking down, feeling too embarrassed to find the right words. you laugh softly and move closer to him, your shoulders brushing and lando can feel his body tense up due to the closeness.

"hey, it's okay. i don't really consider them my friends, anyway," you say nonchalantly and lando lets out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "wow, that's nice for them", you both laugh and lando doesn't miss the way you subtly lean into him, your shoulders finally touching. he turns his head away from you, clearing his throat once more, trying to control the warmth spreading through his body.

"hey", you suddenly call out after a minute of tranquil silence and lando dares to meet your gaze, instantly regretting when he's captivated by your radiant eyes. he finds himself unable to look away and you both share an intense, unspoken connection, as if you've known each other for years. everything feels perfectly right at this moment.

"wanna get out of here?" you finally suggest, your words barely more than a whisper, your focus entirely on lando's mesmerizing eyes. you take his hand, both fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces and you let him drag you in the dark streets.

after a walk filled with stolen gaze and silly conversations, you found yourself on lando's couch, engrossed in his f1 souvenirs and you have never felt so much passion, feeling your heart soften every time your see that sparkles in his eyes. lando never thought that his night will end up like this. sure, he might ended up with a girl from the club like he usually do, but this time was different. he never really experienced this; having sweet and innocent conversations with a stranger from a club. the atmosphere is tranquil yet there's a subtle tension in the air.

lando couldn't help but be his flirty self, playfully teasing you from time to time. however, your responses makes him somewhat nervous — it's a new sensation to him, having a girl making him feel this way. perhaps it's the way you gazes at him with patience and attention, your lovely smile that you share generously with him or how closely you listen to his random f1 stories. lando and you end up scrolling through photos in his phone, with him recounting the stories behind each one. he couldn't help but feel his heart melt your reactions; your smiles, your laughs, and your curiosity as you ask for more details and share your own anecdotes.

a soothing silence descended, and the two of you sit beside each other, thighs and shoulders lightly touching. lando struggles to contain the fluttering feeling in his stomach when you turn to look at him. he dares to meet your gaze, trying to focus on your eyes rather than your enticing lips. lost in each other eyes, you can't tear your gazes away. a brand new emotion envelops both of you, one that's strangely familiar yet undeniably unique, as though destiny has brought you together in this very moment and lando can't help but wonder if soulmates might actually exist.

you finally speak, after what feels like an eternity, in a soft voice, "you can kiss me, lando", you whisper like it's a secret. lando stomach tighten and he don't even take the time to answer, gently placing his hand on your cheek to pull you for a shy kiss. your lips discover each other, timidly and your hands instinctively slides around his neck to pull him closer.

you can't seem to get enough of each other, savoring every moment as you explore each other's mouths. lando's hand venture on your hips, and the chill of his touch sends shivers down your spine, as you suppress a soft moan in your throat. the kiss grows more intense, both of you yearning for more. without the need for words, you share an unspoken understanding of each other's needs, as if you've been intimately connected for ages. out of breath, you both finally pull away, foreheads touching, sharing a playful gaze, giggling and blushing like teenagers experiencing their very first kiss.

after one last sweet peck on the lips, lando takes your hand and stands, guiding you towards the bedroom, careful not to stumble due to both your impatience and the lingering dizziness of that passionate kiss.

not wasting time, he gently guides you onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you. he can't resist the urge to pause and admire you, your eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the dim lights. before he gets lost in that gaze, his eyes roam to study every detail of your face, causing you to blush and squirm beneath him. your arms tighten around his neck, and you chuckle, bringing lando back to the present. "like what you see?" you whisper, stealing a smile from him as he draws closer, his lips teasingly brushing against yours. "oh, absolutely," he murmurs before capturing your lips in a kiss. this time, it feels different; electrifying.

lando's hands slips, beneath your dress, and this time a whimper escapes your lips, making lando smirk through the kiss. his hands dares to explore the skin of your thighs, creating an unusual feeling in your stomach — and making your pussy slightly throb. your fingers finds their way into his curls, gripping onto them as the kiss becomes messier; your tongues dancing together.

"just take it off already" you huff and puff, seeing lando struggling and he lets out a chuckle "damn, someone is impatient", he says, teasing you, before finally taking your dress off. his eyes travel your body, and you've never felt so vulnerable, your cheeks burning. lando let out an unwanted groan, completely loving the view and he stares a bit too long until you pull him for another kiss to put him out of his thoughts. he takes a moment to kiss you back and it's your turn to slide your hands beneath his shirt, playing with the lines of his abdomen, making him moan softly against your lips.

after a good minute of kissing and touching, you finally take off his shirt and his pants, on the way, leaving you both in your underwear. lando leaves kisses along your jawline, going down to your chest, his hand sliding in your back to unbutton your bra and the way your boobs bounce out of it makes lando groan, feeling his erection grows. your grip on his hair gets tighter as you watch him play with your nipples, flicking it and licking it and the view drives you crazy.

you moan his name softly, pulling on his hair to make him look at you and you share a long stare, full of lust, both craving for more. you pull him for a sloppy kiss, trying to show how impatient you are and lando gets the message, pulling down your panties and getting rid of his boxers.

lando's mouth leaves yours and is replaced by his fingers, stealing a whimper from you. your eyes meets his as you suck on his fingers and, if they could, his eyes would burn holes into yours. lando found himself getting more and more impatient, the way you suck on his fingers with that irresistible look making it harder for him to contain it.

pulling out his fingers out of your mouth and without leaving your eyes for a second, his two fingers found your hole, slipping gently in it and you throw instinctively your head backwards, a moan escaping your mouth. lando take a good look at you in that position before taking the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck, fighting the urge to suck on it to not leave marks, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.

"feeling okay?" he whispers softly, his breath hitting your skin, making it difficult for you to fight the whimpers escaping your mouth. lando takes a minute to look at you, to make sure that you don't feel any pain or discomfort.

"mmh'yes, you can move, please oh my god" you desperately says and lando can't help but pull you for another messy kiss. his fingers start moving in you, stretching your walls and you become a moaning mess, your eyes closing and lando takes advantage of it to admire you, his moves getting faster and faster.

"are you close, princess?" he murmurs close to your lips, feeling your body trembling and hearing the way your moans gets louder. you can only shake your head; feeling the bottom of your stomach getting warmer and the nickame almost make you choke on your moans. lando slows down to make scissors movements, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. he can't take off his eyes of you, inspecting every aspect of your face; the way your face crunches and your mouth is slightly open to let multiple sounds out of it. he could almost come just by this sight, his own crotch getting bigger.

with a loud and long moan, you finally climax, arching your back and lando plant soft pecks on your neck, whispering sweet words to you and telling you how good you're doing. breathless, you absently stroke his hair and close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the beat of your heart but lando makes it hard; his hands traveling your body and his lips attached to the skin of your neck.

the sudden emptiness when lando pulls out his fingers make you whimper and he lift his head to meet your gaze — he lost count of how many times he got lost in your eyes tonight. your hand make its way to his cock and the sudden touch makes lando slightly startle, a groan leaving his mouth. before you start stroking it, his hand comes to stop you immediately and you look at him, confused and with a hint of worry; silently asking him if you did something wrong.

"wanna fuck you now or i might go crazy", he says, almost whimpering and you slightly laugh, pulling his face closer to yours. "someone is impatient huh", you tease, a small smirk forming on your lips and he can't help but mirror that smirk. "how can i not when you look at me like that?" he takes your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you again, his body getting closer and his cock brushing on your pussy makes you both moan through the kiss. you take his dick, once again, in your hand to guide it through your hole this time. and slowly, he penetrates you, a long groan escaping his lips at how tight you feel around him and you break the kiss to moan loudly.

"so fucking tight, baby, just for me", he mumbles close to your lips and you can't even answer, too overwhelmed by the way he's filling you — and his dirty words. when you finally adjust, he doesn't waste any minutes and start moving. you both moan in unison, holding into each other like your life depends on it. he watches you go crazy over his cock; the way your eyes gets watery, the way you hold into the sheets — your other hand too busy pulling his hair —, the way you can't control the continuous moans, his name slipping out of your mouth from time to time and encouraging him to go deeper into you. and he does go deeper, slowing down the pace to thrust into you as deep as he can, reaching your sensitive spot.

"right here? like that, baby?" he moans, feeling you tightening around him. his voice makes it harder for you to hold your growing orgasm. your hand leaves the sheets to hold onto his shoulder, your nails crawling into his skin. lando suddenly feels the urge to look at you in the eyes — maybe because his orgasm is getting close too. his hand finds a way to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it gently "look at me, angel", he says in a husky voice that could make you come at any moment. struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to hold his gaze, the way he's looking at you making you insane.

his thrusts gets faster and you can't control the sounds escaping from your mouth anymore. you look away for a moment, too overwhelmed and lando's hand travels to your face, cupping it gently to keep it straight "eyes on me, love". you obey, meeting his gaze and it's all too much for you.

you don't even have to use words for lando to understand that you're getting close, the way your eyes gets watery and your body shakes is enough. with his hand going back to your throat, lando accompany you into your orgasm, enjoying the way you scream his name and you manage to hold his gaze. his own orgasm comes a few minutes after yours and he makes sure to pull out before ejaculating, his groans echoing in the room. he immediately falls besides you and you both just stay like this: his leg over yours, your hand still in his hair as you try to catch your breath. lando uses his last drops of strength to grab a tissue from the nightstand and clean his fresh cum on your stomach.

he pulls you close again, linking your legs together and letting you play with his hair. the silence is so peaceful; the warm of your bodies making you both relax immediately. a smile unconsciously forms on lando's lips at the sight of your tired face, your eyes shining in the almost dark atmosphere of the night. you look back at him, smiling back and giggling, making lando raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"what's so funny?" he says, fighting the smile growing on his lips. "i just slept with the lando norris", you tease and lando groans, hiding his face in his arm. "i knew you were a fan!" he replies playfully, playing along. you laugh in sync and lando's heart feels at peace; all the worries about the incoming season completely forgotten. your hand gently plays with his curls as you absently stare at the ceiling, an unbeatable smile on your face.

lando, on the other side, can't take his eyes off you, watching you slowly fall asleep and enjoying your fingers in his hair. and just before you completely close your eyes, you turn to him, offering him a last kiss; so tender and passionate that your hearts both might burst out of your chests. pulling out, lando watches you fall asleep, not fighting the smile on his face anymore.

he usually struggles to sleep before an important day but this time, his mind is only filled with you and this night spent by your side. and just like that, it's lando's turn to meet the sandman.

-

with a groan, lando struggles to reach and silence the blaring alarm. the morning sunlight aggressively shines through the curtain, making him shield his face with his arm, staying in half asleep state for a minute as he gradually gets out of it.

then it suddenly hits him; you're no longer beside him.

lando suddenly starts to panic, jolting him into full wakefulness. he springs out of the bed and desperately search for any signs of you in every room of his apartment but you're nowhere to be found. he mutters curses under his breath, passing a hand to his messy hair — the thought of you messing his hair last night making him even more frustrated. defeated, he returns to the bedroom, his gaze falling on the tousled sheets where everything happened. as lando realizes that he didn't even ask for your name, frustration festered within him, causing him to clench his hair.

however, amidst his self reproach, a small piece of paper on the nightstand catch his attention, and he immediately rushes to it.

"we will meet again, i promise. you're going to kill it, lovely boy. y/n, x"

lando can't even fight the smile creeping on his lips, his heart softening — it was beating way too fast just by the thought of not even knowing your name. he sinks back onto the bed, your smell immediately hitting him and making him even happier. he reads those few words repeatedly and his hands falls onto his chest, holding the paper close to his heart as he whispers your name again and again, savoring its melodious sound. lando can't help but tell himself that soulmates might exist.

"i am going to kill it,", lando murmured to himself, a foolish grin etching on his face.

______________________________________________

part 2?:p join the tag list here!

masterlist

[revelboo]

REVELBOO!! Drop another chapter about Swindle/Tarn/Metroplex and my life shall be yours

Tarn first, but I’ll try to at least type up a Metroplex update if I’m not too busy at my day job today

L.G. Fuad Pt 3

Tarn x Reader

• “Leave it,” he growls, before shifting to step on the Pet’s trailing leash before the sparkeater can get to the little organic. Not at all amused when you dart around, grabbing onto his other ped and staring at the Pet with wide eyes as it lunges, jaws snapping. “I said leave it. Nickel?” Where is she and why do you think he’s your protector? “Go find Nickel,” he adds, sliding his ped to nudge you away and only succeeding in knocking you sprawling. Now those big eyes are offended as you look up at him, like he did it on purpose.

• Ow. Gingerly getting to your feet and rubbing your hip, you move closer to his ped again even at the risk of getting knocked away again. Because that slavering abomination is going crazy trying to get at you. It’s yet to actually hurt you, aside from tearing your skin with its awful teeth, but you’re not interested in getting dragged around like a rag doll, because you’re almost certain it thinks you’re a toy. The one with the lovely voice and mask is waving a hand at you, trying to shoo you and growling when you pointedly climb up on top of his ped and sit down, clinging to his ankle. Because whether he likes it or not, he’s safe. Cause, no way are you getting out of sight of him even if he really doesn’t like you touching him. The rest of them besides the small blue one are scary. Not to mention a couple of them had made a sound suspiciously like laughter the last time that dog thing had gotten ahold of you and hadn’t bothered to help while you’d screamed your head off.

• Venting tiredly, he gives up and start walking, ignoring your startled noise as those tiny hands cling to him to stay on top of his ped. The Pet running around his legs snapping at the organic, hearing you cry out when it manages to catch you with its teeth. Bending, he picks you up and tries to examine the injury with a servo. It doesn’t look too bad, but your little arm is leaking as you swat at his servo, little face scrunched up and eyes also leaking now. “Nickel?” He calls out again, before carrying you to medbay. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mutters as you shove at his servos when he tries to tug your arm away from where you’re clutching it to your body. Just a tiny little gash and it’s not like it was his fault. Spouting your alien gibberish at him, your shoulders slump and you finally let him carefully grip your hand between two servos so he can examine the wound, unsettled by the feel of those tiny bones.

• Freezing and not even breathing, you watch the optics behind the mask narrow and hope he doesn’t accidentally crush your hand. Muttering nonsense at you in the lovely rumbling voice, he releases your hand and you cautiously prod at the ragged, shallow gash in the back of your arm, wondering if you should be more worried about space rabies or tetanus. Shifting on your hip in his palm, you flinch away from those red optics when they slide to you again. Feel a servo touch the top of your head, sliding down your spine in a surprisingly gentle touch. Petting you like a little kitten, because you’re the same as that horror to him. A pet. Not at all surprised to realize he’s taking you to the little blue robot. Or when she starts fussing at him on sight when he bends and just dumps you on the floor in an inelegant heap, escaping both of you at not quite a run. You startle when the blue one gently examines your arm, still fussing from the sound of it.

• Striding back to his quarters, he knows you’ll be back sooner or later. You keep coming back to him no matter how many times he gets rid of you. Hating that part of him enjoys the soft warmth of you in his hands, the almost Cybertronian expressions you make at him when he talks to you, knowing you don’t understand him. And you seem to appreciate music, so you’re not a savage at least. Rubbing his servos together, he remembers the feel of those tiny bones shifting with the slightest pressure and knowing how easily it’d be to break you. And why does that thought bother him just a little bit?

Previous

Next

[takes1]

bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. none for this part. stay for steamy stuff in later parts ;) content. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush/enemies to lovers!/manager!reader/gn!reader for this part, could change?/passive-aggressive tsukki/daichi being a friend/suga being a friend/future smut/future sexual frustration notes. i'm branching out! first haikyuu fic! not done with mha but it just doesn't motivate me to write rn :( links. masterlist for mha. my ao3. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. PART FOUR HERE. FINAL PART HERE. haikyuu collection

You were walking back with a full case of freshly mixed sports drinks for the team when the whistle blew for a break. The entirety of Karasuno was on you at a moment's notice, rowdy despite their long practice.

A plethora of 'thank you's and appreciative mantras filled your heart as you were able to hand out bottles.

The first to swipe them were the first-years that sprinted up to you, trying to beat each other in their own intense, but good-natured race. Then the less excitable members, like your fellow seniors, that gave you slower and sincere thanks, shoulder pats, and tried to engage you in conversation.

Except, you had to make sure everyone got theirs. Which left the bane of your existence.

He sucked his teeth and looked away, disinterested in hydrating as soon as he realized you were handing them out.

"Tsukishima, come on," Suga heeded a subtle warning, but his mistake was turning away to speak to the others- and not following up to ensure the first-year did this simple task.

You weren't going to hold up a bottle for the kid all day. This was ridiculous and beneath you. Your arm slapped down to your side.

Everybody knew he had some issue with you. His disliking for you was nearly automatic upon being placed on the team, but it had somehow grew to a new intensity each day you had to interact.

Little instances like this one added up quick. And it didn't take long to notice, especially amongst your longest friends.

It boiled down to something about you being enough to piss him off, much like Hinata and Kageyama of his own class. For those two, it was relatively harmless bullshit. For you, the structure of the team hinged on him listening to you as his senior and manager.

"I really don't know what's gotten into him-- I-I'm so sorry," Yamaguchi spoke through gritted teeth.

He would've blabbed for much longer on his friend's behalf like usual, but he stopped short with a chill when he found your mirrored cool, upward stare.

"You don't need it anyway," You set his full bottle back into the case with a loud thump, "You haven't even sweat today."

It was a tad bit of an exaggeration, but his growing habit of letting certain spikes through had been prevalent enough to catch your attention. It bothered you because not only did he so quickly run out of steam -much sooner than the others who got the same court time as him-, but Coach didn't always notice his faults the same way you could.

You didn't try to look at him more than the others, truly. Your job hinged on being objective and you liked to think you did a great job at that. Lately though, it'd been tough not noticing every little shitty idiosyncrasy of his.

The way he hit the ball. The curve of his body into the net when he leaped into the air. The angle he liked to hit. The side he favored. The amount of steps he took before he jumped.

He wasn't as skilled as he let on. They could all use improvement, but his cockiness really ate at your patience. The others at the very least pretended to listen to you, and most took your criticism as a chance to improve. God forbid you comment on his faults, though.

The last time you did, his face had frozen with that ugly, twisted expression for the rest of the match.

Almost as soon as your accusation met his ears, that unbelievably fake calm demeanor crumbled into one serious mixture of aggravation.

His jaw tightened and he glanced around your stone-cold stare.

Bitter, he almost seemed to loom over you as he wiped his forehead with an oversized palm. His gaze remained unfaltering, ever so hateful, and he squeezed a closed fist in between you.

Sweat drip, drip, dripped onto the gym floor.

Head cocked, he opened his mouth to speak-- but Daichi slapped a mighty hand onto Tsukishima's upper arm. His forced grin -a welcome sight at this point- came into view.

"Thank you for volunteering to mop today, Tsukishima!"

Sometimes, when you had these types of exchanges, everyone else just sort of... fell away. Despite some polite cover-up conversations, most of the other players had a sensitive ear to his attitude problem with you. They were practically trained to listen to you speak-- this, compounded with Tsukishima's quiet demeanor, and the gym usually fell just short of completely still.

The blond's scowl elicited your covered laugh as you were pulled away. Suga warned you quietly to not get too caught up in talking to the first-years, but it was difficult to focus on his words.

"Thanks," Was punctuated with the sound of Coach's whistle- he gave you a sympathetic expression and ran off.

You didn't realize how worked up you got until they all returned to the court to finish their spiking drills. They formed up in a neat line, one after the other.

Clipboard gripped a bit tighter, you took a big breath in. Then, out. Your heart settled.

Nobody likes confrontation.

SLAM!

Not unless they're a masochist or something.

SLAM.

Why did he have to pick on you? And not some bigger fish that was actually on the team? Your heart squeezed from the burden of it all.

S L A M !

Tsukishima turned to move to the back of the line, but made sure to catch your eyes before you could even think to ignore him. His expression was indescribable but nothing short of trouble.

@ me to be added to the taglist for this fic series! i have at least 4 more parts i want to do that will be substantially longer

[sinsandsweetness]

“consequences” - part 4 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

part 1, 2, and 3

pairing- (Rick x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content, age gap, smut, needy + desperate reader, sneaky sex, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, light choking, mutual pining, cream pie, poorly proofread. wc 3.9k

notes- i know this took forever, so thank you all for the patience. i rewrote this like three or four times because i just wasn’t as happy with it as i am with the first three parts. i’m pretty happy with it now but I feel it isn’t as playful as the first three. regardless, please tell me what you think:) comments and reblogs are always incredibly appreciated and your feedback means a lot to me <3 enjoy!

3 weeks.

That’s how long it took you to break him. Since that day up in your room, during the barbecue. When he was insistent on showing you how much better he could take care of you than anyone else could. 3 weeks from then is when you finally broke him. And who’d have thought it’d be in your own home, with your dad passed out on the main floor. Unaware of the downright filth happening upstairs in your bedroom. Filth that if he ever found out, would send him into cardiac arrest. Though you’re always careful, and to you, the risk is definitely worth the reward.

But it’s not like you haven’t had a couple close calls. Stolen kisses and flirty glances can’t go unnoticed forever. Your father hasn’t ever said anything. Even when he can see Rick’s hands on your waist, lingering a minute too long. Or the way you always sit right next to him. Pressed up as close as humanly possible. Practically in his lap. Well... sometimes actually in his lap. Your father’s not stupid. But, he’s also not exactly the most confrontational man. And he’s never actually caught you. There’s been no real confirmation of his suspicions. Until today that is.

After a long day of work at your dads construction site, Rick arrives at your house before any of the others. Freshly showered with a case of beer. It’s just you and him in the kitchen. Making small talk as he tries to pretend there isn’t a band of tension pulling the two of you closer and closer with every meaningless question.

“Didn’t know you were coming over,” you say, chopping up some vegetables on a cutting board. Glancing up at Rick who can’t seem to look you in the eyes. Distracted by the tiny little outfit you have on. A skirt, despite the brisk weather. A tight, fitted long sleeve that’s pushing your breasts together in the most enticing way possible. No bra. Clearly. And then there’s the best part. The part he keeps glancing down at while licking his lips and taking in a deep breath. Your thigh highs. White knit thigh high socks that make him want to pin you up against the counter and fuck you then and there.

“I uh- your dad told us to come for some drinks,” he looks up at you again, this time you’re leaning against the island, brushing your hands together to dry them off.

“So… where’s my dad then?” You ask, stepping even closer to the man. Too close, you realize at the hitch of his breath.

It’s been a really long 3 weeks.

“Uh- I imagine he got sidetracked. I know Maggie was looking for him. Probably caught up in conversation.”

“And Shane? Daryl?”

“On their way.”

“Hmm.” You hum. You’re right in front of him now. You can smell his cologne and the shampoo he uses. Damp curls forming at the base of his neck. Casual black jeans on, and a simple grey tee shirt. He places the case of beer right next to you on the counter, stepping in close so he’s pressed up against you. Trapped between his warm body and the cool marble.

You stay like that for a moment. Both of your minds going back to the night last week that you snuck out. To what happened in that truck. But more importantly what didn’t happen. What you’ve been praying would happen for weeks.

Finally he leans in, pressing a sweet little kiss to the corner of your lips before dipping lower. Breathing in your perfume.

“Missed you,” he admits into your neck. The warmth of his breath sends little pinpricks down your arms.

You breath in a quiet gasp when he kisses your neck. Warm, soft lips making their way down to your collarbone. His hands on either side of your waist, planting you against the counter.

God, you want him so bad it hurts.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling him up so his lips are forced against yours. Kissing him with the same fervor and necessity that had been building all month. Since that very first kiss in your dads garage. Since that day at the barbecue when Rick took you upstairs and showed you how much better he is at making your legs shake than Shane. Since the pool party, the day you were a complete tease and they all knew it. When Rick decided to take you down to the pool shed and teach you a lesson. You had no idea fingers could even feel that good. But Rick’s do. Everything Rick does, feels good to you.

And then, there was the night last week. The one that both of you have been thinking about every hour since.

You’d snuck out your bedroom window just to see him. To go for a drive and park on the side of the road. You kissed him til your lips were swollen and your panties were soaking through.

You know he’s wanted you from the very start. When he first met your dad and started coming over. Well before you’d ever kissed him. Showed interest in him. But that night, it hit him. How much he wants you to himself. How much he loves being alone with you. Just you. But no matter how tempted he may have seemed, he still refused to break the agreement. He still wouldn’t fuck you.

Yet.

“Rick-“ you gasp against his lips as he pulls you up onto the counter, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Skirt riding up to expose your lacy panties. You can feel him against you. How badly he wants you. How hard he is for you. How hard he’s been every night since the night you snuck out to see him. Touching himself to the thought of you, wishing he’d just fucked you then, on the side of the highway in the dead of night. Just you and him and the stars acting as the only witnesses to your risky little love affair.

“Want you,” you say against his lips, his hand starting to gently wrap around the front of your throat. His other arm pulls you in by the waist so you’re completely flush with his chest.

“Want you so bad,”

But before he can mumble a response into your mouth, both of you hear the garage door open. You both freeze. Eyes going wide, you slide off the counter, immediately pulling your skirt back to an appropriate length. Rick rubs a hand over his face, turning the other direction. Giving you a moment of privacy to get yourself situated and to deal with the tent in the front of his jeans.

Your father walks in first.

You can't even look at him. Blush so very apparent on your pretty face as you look down at the cutting board, pretending to be occupied with the assortment of vegetables. Daryl and Shane head straight for the fridge. Only giving you a smirk of acknowledgment as their gaze is darting in between you and Rick.

Your father notices. The way you won’t look him in the eye. The way Rick is nervously running a hand through his hair and how his eyes keep darting over to you. He sees it. He’s not stupid. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t say anything. He just stalks over and slaps Rick on the back with a, “thanks man, really needed this after the week we’ve had.”

Rick nods in agreement, taking a sip of the bottle your father just handed him. Rick looks over at you. Something unspoken behind his eyes that you can’t quite make out. Yeah, it’s been a long week indeed.

You don’t stay downstairs long. When Shane and your father start getting all loud and rowdy in the living room, the empty bottles of their fifth beers being knocked over onto the hardwood as their play fight begins, that’s when you decide to head upstairs with a quick wave, “g’night.” Rick is the only one who catches it. Nodding back at you as you climbed the stairs. Watching you sway your hips with every step. Skirt so short that the bottom of your ass cheeks are on full display.

You try sleeping. But every time you close your eyes you see Rick. That night in his truck. Straddling his waist and unbuckling his belt. The way he kissed you so deep. Filled with so much lust. So much need. You’d never felt that before. And even though he told you exactly how bad he wanted you, he didn’t have to. You could feel it. With every touch. Every kiss. That’s why it surprised you when you tried to go all the way and he still wanted to stop you.

“Not like this. I can’t- I'm… we’re not doin’ it like this.”

“Why?” You were out of breath, still trying at his belt but his hand came down to stop you, firmly calling your name. Grabbing your full attention to his stormy blues.

“We’re on the side of the road for christs sake. It should be- fuck. We should be at home in a real bed. Not sneaking around in some beater pickup in the middle of nowhere-”

“Rick-”

“No.”

“This is perfect.” You tried to assure him.

He sighed and pulled your forehead against his, catching your lips before mumbling, “You’re perfect.”

“I want this. I want you.”

“I know. And you have no idea how badly I want this too. But I can’t. I just- we can’t.”

He still made you come. Regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t fuck you. He wasn’t going to let you go home without a proper orgasm.

But you needed more. Needed him.

And now, laying in bed, reliving the scene in your head with your hands trailing down to your panties, you’re soaking right through. Your stomach doing backflips at the memory of his hands roaming your body in the dark.

With a frustrated groan, you sit up. Fuck. A cold shower is what you really need.

You get up and open your bedroom door, immediately met with the sight of Rick on the top step of the stairs. He’s got his index pressed to his lips when he sees you. Telling you to be quiet. Hush.

He’s smiling behind his hand. Dropping it as he reaches your bedroom door. He brings his arm up to the doorway, leaning on it. Other hand sporting a half empty bottle of beer. You wonder how many he’s had.

“They’re all passed out on the couch aren’t they?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway. Arms only inches from his chest.

“How’d you guess?”

“Well… it’s quiet, for one,” you turn around and head to your bed, sitting down and waiting for him to follow.

He does.

“And two… you’re here.” You say.

“I am.”

He sits down. A quiet moment passes and he takes another swig of beer before placing the bottle on your nightstand.

“Y’know, if you really don’t wanna sleep with me, you should probably stop inviting yourself into my bedroom. It’s sending some pretty mixed signals.”

He chuckles at your comment. “Mixed signals huh?” His hand goes to your leg, tracing the band of your thigh highs. You’re no longer wearing your skirt. Just panties, socks and an ex-boyfriend's baggy tee shirt.

“Yeah,”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing about you, sweetheart,” his hand makes its way up your thigh. His palm is rough against your smooth skin, the attention sending a jolt straight between your legs.

“How so?”

“Shane? Daryl?” He says it like it’s obvious. You fooling around with the other best friends.

“That’s different.” You look up at him now, the tiniest scowl on your face.

“How so?” His tone is soft but it’s clear he’s mocking you.

You open your mouth to respond but something stops you. Deep breath. You’re looking at his lips now. And he knows it.

“I wanted you, y’know. They’re fun and all but…“ you swallow. You need Rick. From the very start it’s been pretty obvious that you like him best. Always sitting next to him, as close as you can get. There’s just something different about Rick. The way he makes you feel. The way he was so quick to claim you. How he’s possessive and attentive and so insanely infatuated by you. It’s just… different. You can’t explain it.

“But what?” His nose is nearly touching yours at this point. One hand on your thigh and the other one reaching for your face. Thumb running across your jaw as you lean in.

You’re voice is quiet when you finally speak.

“I want you.”

He lips graze yours and you have a feeling that he heard you this time. Like, really fucking heard you. Not just the words leaving your mouth, but everything else that you’re trying to say. The way your heart is beating fast and you’re breathing is all shallowed. How he can see every nervous little tic that goes through you as he leans in to kiss you.

So he gives in. Reluctantly of course. If asking, “you sure about this?,” while peeling your panties down your legs is considered reluctant. Or worriedly whispering that “we could get caught,” while tossing your shirt across the room and leaning down to suckle at your breasts, nipping and sucking a few little love bites where no one else will see but him. Because that’s so very reluctant of him.

His hands are wrapped around your waist as he kisses down your stomach. Soft lips making their way down between your legs, propping one of your legs up and kissing your inner thigh. He takes his time, biting your leg and dragging his teeth down your sensitive skin. The action makes you whine, hands going straight to his curls.

“Rick just- c’mon,”

“Why don’t you just lay back and look pretty, huh?”

“Rick-” you’re on fire. Need pulsing through your bloodstream with every touch. His hands are holding your hips to the mattress, preventing them from squirming around. The featherlight kisses he’s peppering over your clit are bordering on the side of torture. You know he’s just trying to take his time. To savour the feeling and drag it on. Make it last and make it special. But he doesn’t realize how badly you need him to push your knees to your chest and fuck you til you’re a moaning mess.

“Rick.” You tug on his hair, trying to get him to just fuck you already. You’ve been waiting over a month for this. And judging by the arousal dripping onto your pink, cotton sheets, you definitely don’t need the foreplay.

“Maybe you’d get what you want if you used your manners a little more. Ever thought of that?” He looks up at you. And despite his words, he follows the hand urging him to come up and kiss your lips. To replace his shoulders with his hips in between your legs.

“Please,” you breath out. If manners is all he wants, then you’re a lucky girl. You’d tell him whatever he wants to hear if it mean he’ll fuck you. “Please, please, just fuck me, just-”

“God, you’re such a brat,” he cuts you off with a kiss, you’re legs instinctively wrapping around his clothed torso. And the feeling of his denim against your bare clit isn’t helping your incredibly desperate situation.

You reach for his belt mid kiss and you can tell that his instincts are telling him to stop you. To tell you that you’re dad’s downstairs and that it’s wrong. But with his forehead pressed against yours, warm breath fanning over your lips he dips down to kiss your neck. He doesn’t stop you. He lets you unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, enough to reach his cock, standing tall and eager. You tug on his tee shirt and he helps you take it off, throwing it onto the pile of both your clothes building on your floor. You pull him in close with your legs, knitted socks all soft against his bare back, almost locking him into place. Your hands are on his jaw, pulling him in as you bite his bottom lip, gently dragging it out and earning a groan. At the same time, he lines himself up with your aching cunt. He enters you slowly with a muffled moan. A gasp leaves your lips at the stretch. He’s much bigger than anyone you’ve been with. In length and in girth.

Once every thick inch is completely inside of you, he can tell that you need a minute. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to his size.

Well, no going back now.

“You okay?” He asks in between kisses. Keeping his hips still as you get used to the feeling.

You nod, “Just- go slow, ok?”

You can’t help the moan that’s crawling up your throat when he does as you say. Slow, intentional movements in and out. Fuck he’s big. But fuck, does it ever feel good.

“You feel so good,” you tell him. You need to tell him. To let him know how much you love it. How much you needed it. Needed him. “Please don’t ever stop.”

His breathing is heavy. Pushing down the groans and sounds you so desperately wish he would let you hear. He’s trying so hard not to come. You’re so wet. So warm. So tight around his cock and so fucking pretty laying there underneath him. Moaning all sorts of praise.

“You’re so big,”

“Rick, yes.”

“Right there, please.”

“Feels so good,”

And your words add fuel to the fire burning inside of him. The way you’re holding onto his neck, legs locked behind his back. Lips parted in the long awaited bliss of being filled right up. Taking him so well. And he makes sure to tell you it, too.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good,” he kisses you again, “taking me so well.”

There’s a lot of hands. Grabbing at arms, necks, hair, faces. Whatever either of you can reach as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s done going slow. His pace is making your back arch off the bed and guttural, almost pornographic noises start to pour from your lips. Swollen and rosy and constantly catching his with every opportunity.

“Shhhh-“ Rick brings a hand up to your face. Forehead still pressed agains yours as he covers your mouth. “Gonna wake em’ up if you keep making so much noise.”

That’s not the only reason he needs you to shut up. It’s true, but it’s not the only reason.

He can’t take it. Well, at least he doesn’t think he can.

When he pulls out, your eyes go wide. No. Don’t stop. Why the hell is he stopping?

“What- oh.” your head falls back to the pillow at the feeling of his tongue on your clit. His fingers already knuckle deep and curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. Those fucking sounds you’re making are driving him crazy. But at least he knows he can last a little longer this way. Maybe make you come before he fucks you again. A little less pressure to perform when you’re already dumb from his fingers. From his tongue. From the way he’s sucking on your clit and pushing up on your thigh, fingers driving into you so hard you could scream.

You have to cover your own mouth. You know you’re being too noisy. And you also know the last thing either of you want is for your father to wake up to the sound of his daughter getting finger fucked by his best friend. By his friend who’s at least 15 years older than you. The one he’s been suspicious of for a few weeks now, over analyzing the way he looks at you. The way he listens to you. The way he brings you up and asks what you’re up to. All of it. And then earlier. The flushed faces of guilt and embarrassment when he got home in the middle of your moment.

You don’t need any kind of interruption. Anything that might put off the thing you’ve been pining for so badly for so long. But you definitely don’t need the interruption to come hurling up the stairs, drunk and careless and ready to fight.

So you bite your lip til it bleeds. A hot wave of pleasure erupts from your core, and spreads through you like a wildfire. Fuck. Those damn fingers.

Before you can even catch your breath, while your muscles are still twitching from your orgasm, his forearms find their way to either side of your face and he pushes inside of you once again.

“Ohmygod,”

You’re soaking. Both of you can hear it. The sounds of your slick, wet cunt perfectly taking every single thrust. So wet. And all for him.

“Ohmygod,” you repeat, nails raking down his back as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle to something otherworldly. Heaven or paradise or whatever utopia you can think up, couldn’t even compare. Not to this. Not to him. The way his cock kisses your cervix with every snap of his hips. The way his hands are roaming over your body. Trying to touch every square inch he can. The way he’s whispering all that dirty praise, telling you how good you feel. How wet you are for him. How fucking perfect you are. For him. The way he kisses the leg propped up on his shoulder, leaning back to admire what a mess he’s made out of his best friends daughter. So pretty and perfect. All flushed and glowing with a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest. Eyes glossed over in complete and utter ecstasy.

Nothing can compare.

“Rick, I- I-” your voice keeps catching in your throat.

“What? What is it?”

“Rick I- uh,” Ricks thumb runs over your bottom lip, dragging it out.

“I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hushed but your words don’t go unnoticed. Your grip tightens on his shoulders as his long fingers make their way down your body, pushing down on your lower stomach. It’s an intense pressure, sweet and comforting and so fucking enraptured that it brings tears to your eyes.

“God, you’re so pretty. Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock. ” He coaxes it out of you. Sultry moans leave your lips as you both reach your climax. Locking your leg around his waist as he fills you with his seed. Dipping down to press a passionate kiss to your mouth. Tongue tracing your own as his hips stutter to a stop. Heavy breathing with your chests pressed together. Thigh muscles straining from the angle but you can’t find it in you to care. Too overwhelmed by such an incredible high.

He whispers your name against your lips.

“Yeah?” You’re out of breath, doe eyes glancing up at him like he’s some kind of god.

“You are so fucking perfect.”

You know that while he means it, it’s not what he really wants to say. As if it might scare you off if he speaks the truth. If he tells you what he’s really thinking. It won’t. But he doesn’t know that.

Slowly, he pulls out of you. You can’t help but wince at the loss of contact. Leaned back on his knees, Rick tucks himself back into his jeans, forgetting all about his belt at the hypnotic sight of his cum dripping out of you. Both of you too caught up in the moment to think about a condom. And too blissed out now to find it in yourselves to care. His fingers trace through the warm liquid. You find yourself flinching at the sensitivity when he brushes over your clit.

“I’ll uh- I’ll grab a washcloth. Just- stay here, ok?”

You smile up at him. So predictably sweet and caring and clearly starting to overthink as he comes down from his high. Mind racing with “what if’s” and the overwhelming fear that you might regret it. Regret him.

But you don’t.

“Wait,” you grab his arm as he starts to stand up, heading for the bathroom to clean you up. To take care of you.

“Can we go again?”

A flash of surprise and then a wave of relief washes over his face as he sits back down.

“Jesus, kid.” He smiles and settles back in between your legs.

Right where he belongs.

-

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @miinbun @murder-jacket @ankhmutes @grimesthinker @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @imyourbratzdoll @fanngirl19 @spidermonkey2423 @belaballs @virtualreader @darylsdix0nn @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @cavillsgirl105 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37

(crossed out means I couldn’t tag)

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Cramps | D.M

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Request: Yes

w/c: 1.1K

You groaned once more as you rolled over in bed, grabbing hold of your covers and bringing them above your head to try and muffle the sound of your roommates talking. On most days, you’d be right there alongside them, complaining about your most recent potions assignment  and gossipping about who is taking who to the upcoming Yule ball. But today, all you wanted to do was lay in bed, curl up in a ball, and die; any means of escape necessary to help ease the pain that was going on in your uterus.

It was already noon, and you were still in bed. You had no plans on leaving soon, even if it meant sacrificing your weekend trip to Hogsmeade that you had been planning for the past few weeks. Your friends only giving you looks of sympathy, as they started grabbing hold of all their things, getting ready to leave for the day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” One of the girls asked you, as the group started heading for the door.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you squeak out, “I don’t think it’s going to get any better any time soon. Can you just tell Draco I’m not going?” 

They give you a small nod as they close the door behind them. The room finally silent after a full morning of chatter, at last you could take a nap. 

You bury yourself deeper into your sheets as you try and find a more comfortable position. The warmth of the blankets hugging your body as you found yourself drifting further and further into sleep. Nothing could disturb you now.

Nothing except for Draco that is.

The door flung open, a loud bang ricocheting off the walls, as he rushed over to your side. A worried look plastered on his face as he went to put his palm on your forehead. A look of confusion now taking over once he realized you weren’t actually ill. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he asked, going in to give you a kiss on the cheek, “the girls told me that you were sick so I decided to stay behind as well. But you don’t seem ill.” 

You didn’t know whether to be angry at him for disturbing you, or appreciative of the fact that he cared about your well-being. You sat yourself up from the bed, a cramp hitting you as you did so, causing you to let out a little yelp in pain and clutch your stomach. Draco gave you a look of sympathy as he realized what was wrong.

“I’m not sick Draco,” you let him know, “just on my period.” 

He let out a small hum and gave you a gentle kiss on the nose. It was days like these that you were thankful for the blonde, mean-eyed, Slytherin boy that you were able to call your boyfriend. It was no surprise to you as to why so many people saw Draco as cold, you weren’t a stranger to his rude remarks and cold glances, but thankfully throughout your years at Hogwarts, Draco and you managed to develop a strong and unbreakable bond. One that gave him the confidence to show you this soft side of him, and for this you were grateful.

So, by routine, the boy got up from your side and started heading out the door. 

“I’ll be back with your tea and a pumpkin pastry.” He put his hand to the knob and started stepping out.

“Wait!” You interrupted. He turned around and gave you a confused look. It became habitual for him to get you tea and sweets whenever you were sick or during your period, and usually you were okay with him leaving you for just a few minutes.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, just, for the tea,” you hid a shy smile in midst of his concerned gaze, “just remember to add honey and tw–”

“Two sugarcubes, but not the ones from the first cabinet, the ones hidden behind the ugly flower vase near the window.” He finished your sentence. It was such a small and silly thing to be flustered about, especially since it is something that happens so often, but right now, all you could think about was the fact that he was in your room taking care of you and that he remembered how you like your tea. 

“I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t remember. I’ll be back soon, my sweet.” He came back up next to you and gave you a kiss, turning around and then finally exiting the room.

—-

Twenty minutes later your boyfriend finally returned. In his hands your tea, some sweets, and one of his sweaters. He gave you a flashy grin as he came to your side, placing the things down on your bedside table. 

“Drink this,” he handed you the tea, “It will make you feel better.” 

You grab hold of the small cup and start drinking it. Groaning and trying to resist the urge to curl up into a fetal position every few moments from the constant cramping. “Thank you Dray, but I don’t think the pain is going to go away soon.” 

The boy took the now empty cup and set it aside. He pushed a stray strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear as he went to lay down next to you. Peppering your face with kisses as you laughed in between, almost forgetting about the ache. “Is it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You let out sweetly, bringing yourself close to him to try and capture some of his warmth. He smelt of mint and mahogany, a scent that you knew all too well. The boy grabbed the sweater from your bedside and handed it to you, watching as you put it over your tank top. He grabbed hold of your hands and started rolling up the sleeves.

“Then,” he finally finished rolling the sleeves and gave you a small kiss, “I guess I will stay with you until you feel better.” 

“Even if it’s for the rest of the week?” You asked him, taking notice of how soft his gaze has become. 

He closed the small remaining space between you. Both of your bodies glued together as he hummed your favorite song into your ear. Forgetting about your missed Hogsmeade trip, as well as the Pumpkin Pastries that were now going cold on your bedside, he responded,

“Especially if it means the rest of the week.” 

And you didn’t doubt his words for a second.

✧˖*°࿐

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here!

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience:~The Sun, the Sea, and the Host Club!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: what was meant to be a relaxing trip to the beach turns into the strangest interaction with Kyoya ➼ what to expect:  "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that" ➼ warnings: small amounts of angst ➼Part seven | Part Nine

You are hoping that after everything that went down at the jungle resort that you may finally get a truly relaxing break today. Although given who you are with you are unsure whether or not that will actually happen.

Yet still you try to finally get a tan, eyes closed as you sink further into the beach towel as the rest of the club talk around you.

“So… why’d we come to Okinawa?”

“Because Kyoya’s family has a private beach here.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“But why couldn’t we have gone-”

“- to the Caribbean?”

“Or even Fiji?”

“Do you think a commoner like Haruhi has a passport?”

You shoot up, opening your eyes “Kyoya!”

“Ah.”

“You do realize that I can hear what you’re saying, right?” Haruhi interjects.

Out on a protruding rock from the ocean, Tamaki is intimately situated with his arm around a patron’s shoulder.

“It’s so beautiful. Tamaki, being alone here with you and looking out at the sea, it’s like a dream.” She sighs dreamily.

“It’s no dream, it’s real, but if I could have my way, my princess. I’d be in your dreams every night.” Tamaki brings their faces to close proximity.

“Oh, Tamaki.” His guest swoons.

Utilizing the volleyball net, the twins and two guests play a game of two on two. Hikaru bumps the ball violently, and it goes flying over Kaoru and his guest’s head and rolling off behind them.

“Hey, take it easy, Hikaru!” Kaoru begs as he goes running off after the beach ball.

“I’m sorry! I’ll get it!” Hikaru calls, but it’s too late; Kaoru is already on his way.

It’s like a cheesy romance movie, where the two protagonists go prancing off along the shoreline in a beach montage, almost in slow-motion.

“Wait for me, Kaoru!” Hikaru calls after Kaoru as he continues along the sand.

“It’s not my fault! The ball is rolling away!” All you can hear from you position on a towel under an umbrella next to Haruhi are the giggles of two brothers who are fantastic actors. The pullover covers your nearly bare body nicely from the sun and keeps you warm in the shade.

Ah, yes, hosts working on location.

Beside you, Haruhi sits with her knees pulled up to her chest as a hermit crab scuttles by along the sand near the towel.

“Oh, Haruhi, look!” You carefully lift the crab by the shell and place it in your hand, shoving it near Haruhi.

You follow her line of sight to see Kyoya monitoring a line of girls in swimsuits, all waiting for a turn with the King in the VIP spot.

Haruhi groans, “Why?”

“Her alone time with Tamaki is up. Next lady, please proceed.” Kyoya ruins the facade of a moment with his announcement.

“This sucks. I thought going to the beach meant a day off.” Haruhi’s attention is drawn to Mori and Honey’s group stretching their limbs.

“Um, Haruhi?” A shadow casts over Haruhi’s back, and she turns to greet her caller. Well, rather three, this time.

“Aren’t you going to go swimming with us?” They urge, all three dressed in very flattering swimsuits.

“No, uh, I like looking at the sea from a safe distance.” Haruhi settles for.

“Well, if you’re not going to swim, would you mind if we sat here and talked with you?” the second patron inquires cautiously.

Now a natural facade, Haruhi charms the three guests effortlessly, “But why? You girls should go swim. You’ve got cute swimsuits on; why not show them off?”

Instead of rushing off to the ocean, the guests sigh in appreciation.

As your eyes dart back and forth between Haruhi and her infatuated guests, you take an obvious hint and haul yourself up from the ground, dusting off and waving a short goodbye to the ladies before joining the twins in their antics.

“I can’t believe he fooled us.” Hikaru opens with, picking up their lost beach ball and handing it to his brother.

“Who’d have thought he’d bring the ladies with us?” Kaoru shrugs, although not upset in the least. This is one of the rare schemes that Tamaki’s managed to fool them with.

“We certainly didn’t expect it.”

“You were invited on this all-expenses-paid vacation for a reason. And that is to keep our clients entertained.” Kyoya is seated under an outdoor table with an umbrella and two tropical drinks before him.

You hum in agreement, finally rejoining the land of the living as you reach for the second drink. "You guys want the photobooks to sell this is how we do it" You add.

The twins stand before the two of you in disbelief "Well don't you make quite the money hungry pair" hikaru muttered, you raise an eyebrow "Have you seen Tamaki's plans? someone has to find the budget for it"

The twins exchanged a glance as the two of them pondered it over, ultimately agreeing with the logic before running back to play volleyball.

"Are you not going to go off with them?" Kyoya asked, looking up over his glasses while still scribbling in his notebook. "Not yet, just taking it all in" you reply lightly, pulling your knees up to lean your book against.

"Taking what in?" He asks, he knows that you weren't exactly unfamiliar with beach trips, while it may be less common where you were from you still had gone on plenty of trips. "It is rare that we can get a moment where everything isn't...filtered"

The statement intrigues Kyoya, head tilting to the side "How so?" you sigh, closing the book as you stare out into the ocean, watching as the boys have a water fight and Haruhi goes rockpooling with the girls.

"While we do have clients here, most of us have still dropped our typical club persona's that we put up at school, there's no pressure to pretend to be something we're not"

Kyoya hums, following your gaze to watch the boys also. "Do you really think so?" he asks, placing his notebook down. "I know so. None of us are in the host club for the sake of being in the host club, we all put on persona's to ignore the persona's we have to put on for our families. When we can drop both of those...it's rare...but it is quite nice to see"

Kyoya pauses, staring back at you "You're quite insightful sometimes do you know that?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink" you shrug "It's my job to be"

"So what pretenses are you putting up then? you sounded as if you include yourself?" the question siezes in your chest as you question whether or not you should actually go there.

"I think it may be the same pretenses that you put up as well" you reply, not taking your eyes off of him as you analyse his reaction. Kyoya doesn't answer at first, having a mental war with himself as to how much information he should release to you.

You unintentionally hold your breath waiting for his answer, praying that he wouldn't shrug it off again, that he wouldn't shut off just this once. "And what is that?"

"That while we were in club hours, distracted by numbers and analytics, we can both ignore why we are always sat together and the future that is coming for us soon"

"Y/n-"

"It is fine Kyoya, I have always been aware of my place with you, you don't have to rush to protect my feelings" you place the book you were reading on the table between the two of you.

Silence falls between the two of you as you sigh. "Kyoya I am tired of this dance we do every time this comes up. We have known each other two years and we never talk about it. Not really"

"Could I get a word in please?" your slightly ajar mouth pulled itself shut at the question. "I thought when we spoke at the party that was us talking about it"

"I...we said at the party we would try...to make this work...and I am being patient but..." while you are too caught up trying to piece together the right words you didn't notice how Kyoya was hanging onto every one of those words.

"I never know...where I stand with you Kyoya...and the truth is I don't think you know either" Kyoya remains silent, debating whether it would be best to say something in defence or let you elaborate.

"I don't...I don't expect anything from you but just as i think i've figured out what we are something will happen and I'm back to square one." you look away, staring back out into the ocean not wanting to bear to see his reaction.

"We are engaged but we are not together, we hang out and as far as I'm aware I am the person you talk to the most but we aren't friends..." it is in this moment that Kyoya wishes that he was better at bringing himself to express any form of emotion.

"I didn't...know you felt that way" was what ends up coming out instead. "Please don't say it like that" you plead, regretting bringing this up in the first place, taking a sip of your drink.

Kyoya is stunned "Like what?"

"With pity, I am aware of my position, and you are aware of yours, we fulfill the agreement our fathers made only enough but it is strange because of that exact arrangement we have decided that it would be for the best that things are only one way or another"

"We have responsibilities"

"Yes we do, but you seem to forget that you can do more than just your responsibilities. Why do you think you are here?" you gesture out to the rest of the host club.

"Y/n if you are saying what I think you are you do not want to go there" You raise an eyebrow "Do I not? Because the truth is I don't know anything about you. I'd like to but I don't, not truly."

Kyoya's face falls, seemingly a flurry of realisations hitting him at once. "All I am saying is that we are going to be stuck together for a very long time, I just want to know what terms that time will be on"

"Help!" Haruhi's voice seemed to echo through the rocky outskirts of the bay. You shoot up, completely forgetting the conversation that was just occurring, running in what you hope to be the direction of the cry.

as you turn around the rocks, quickly realising that the other club members are following behind you, but that isn't what you are worried about, no you are worried by the group of guys who currently are cornering haruhi. "Get the hell away from her!" you yell out.

"Ah good another one" the guy whose hand was wrapped around Haruhi's wrist says at your presence, not seeming intimidated in the slightest. "Yeah, now get away from her" You yank his hand off of her, wrist, however in the process he grabs onto yours instead, in an instinctual response you knee him in the crotch, throwing him off you.

"Get away from them!" Honey's voice rings out, tackling them, Mori as well. they just about manage to get out enough to run away, you manage to dodge out of the way in time to miss the onslaught, accidentally stepping backwards into Kyoya.

"Are you okay?" he asks, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. "Fine."

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

It's dark out, the host club have retired to Kyoya's family's beach house for the night. Kyoya is pacing the room as he is on the phone to his police force while you are sat on his bed watching him ramble on. He eventually sighs as he hangs up the phone.

"The girls are all safely at the hotel, they are tracking down what is left of those guys" You nod "Good"

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks for probably the third time since the incident. "Yes I am fine, I know the whole 'duty of care' bullshit and that you probably got asked about me over the phone but I am fine"

"Forgive me for checking on someone who is known to avoid doctors" He mutters, placing the phone on the desk. "What you did was risky"

"Haruhi was in trouble" You sat firm in your position, having no regrets on your decision despite the backlash you had received from the host club after the incident. "Yes however there were much safer ways to handle it than just throwing yourself into the situation, you're not martial arts trained like Honey or Mori"

"Haruhi was in trouble then, what did you expect me to do, wait? Kyoya she could have been seriously hurt if i did that"

"You could have been seriously hurt!"

The outburst came as a shock to you, jaw hanging open for a moment before slowly picking itself up. "I am fine"

"Yes but you could have very easily may not have been"

Kyoya has a certain intensity to him that you do not see often at all from him, your mouth hinges close in shock. "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that"

You could practically hear the heart palpitations in your chest, you and Kyoya stare at each other from across the room, part of you was frustrated with him. Not getting anywhere with him apparently.

On the other hand there was a familiar feeling that you recognise from a moment of closeness the two of you had in the classroom when investigating shiro.

In the wake of your silence Kyoya sighs. "I...You are right, I do have a 'persona' or whatever you want to call it, but I can't just...drop it, it has become second nature to me now...please just...be patient with me"

There's a level of vunerability in his words that is unlike anything you had ever heard from him before. You stand up, approaching him slowly while not taking your eyes off of him, sighing as you stand less than a foot away from him "I can be patient...I just need to know that I'm not the only one trying to make this work"

Thunder cracked in the background but the two of you didn't seem to take any mind. "I..." Kyoya was hesitant with his words "You aren't...the only one..." You nod, happy to finally get confirmation but now unsure of what to do or say next.

However you do not need to make that decision, as an almost electric, feather light touch brushes your hand, a finger wraps around yours, interlocking.

"Patience?"

"Patience."

Next time on patience 'A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28

[foxy-eva]

Temptation

Summary: Your new skirt is too tempting for Spencer to resist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) Dom/Sub dynamics (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader), teasing, mild degradation, praising, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Even after months of dating you still got excited when you knew Spencer would walk through your door any minute now. Today your heart was fluttering especially hard, unable to wait much longer to see your boyfriend's reaction to your outfit choice. A final look in the mirror let a wide smile spread over your face.

Spencer had never seen you in a skirt that short and you really wanted to know what he'd have to say about it. 

When you heard the door to your apartment opening, you walked over to greet your boyfriend with an innocent peck on his lips. 

"Are you hungry? I can prepare something for you," you chirped as you attempted to walk over to the kitchen. 

Spencer was quick to grab your arm, hindering you from walking away. 

"Not so fast, young lady," he chuckled as he unabashedly checked out your body. "What are you wearing?" 

"I bought a new skirt!" You announced. 

"I can see that."

You turned around to allow him to take a better look at you, snickering, "Do you like it? I think it looks cute."

"I do like it. But cute is not the word I'd use to describe it," he told you. 

The smirk forming on his face gave away how much he appreciated your outfit. His hands found their home on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no distance to be found between the two of you. You couldn’t hold back your giggles when you realized that your plan of getting his attention with your new skirt had worked. 

Leaning down to find your ear he whispered, "No need to act all innocent when you look so sinful."

"I don't know what you mean," you lied, pressing your body further against his until you could feel the growing bulge in his pants. 

"Are you sure about that?" He purred as he let both of his hands wander down until they reached the hem of your skirt. 

Skillful fingers pushed the fabric up to feel the bare curve of your backside, revealing what Spencer had already suspected. 

"Did you forget to put on panties?"

He squeezed your flesh harder than you'd expected, letting a gasp escape your throat. Any coherent thought quickly left your mind and Spencer was aware of that. 

"My sweet girl," he playfully mocked you. "Not even able to dress yourself properly."

You swung your arms around his neck as your knees became weaker with every second passing. He knew exactly what his teasing would do to you and he also knew that it was the reason for you to wear such a daring piece of clothing in the first place. 

"Did you forget how to use your words, too?" 

"No," you protested and paused as you attempted to come up with a witty response but your head was empty. 

"It's okay," Spencer cooed. "I know exactly what you need." 

He found your lips in a hungry kiss while walking you backwards until you collided with the dining table. Your whole body was burning for his touch and he showed no hesitation to grant you some exactly that. When you attempted to sit on the table he grabbed your hips to stop you. You found his eyes, unsure of what he had in mind. 

That changed quickly once he turned you around and demanded, "Be a good girl for me and bend over."

With one firm hand pushing against your shoulder blades he brought you into the position he wanted you in. Your forearms met the cool wood of the dining table, building a contrast to the heat rushing through your body. Spencer stepped back to take a moment to look at you. 

"You look so pretty," he groaned before his hands made contact with your body once more. 

"Please," you begged him to end your misery. 

Slowly he pushed your skirt over your hips, exposing your skin. One of his hands moved over the curve of your backside, burying his fingertips into your supple flesh before moving them between your legs. When he found that your arousal had already coated your skin, a deep groan left his throat. 

"How are you already that wet?"

His fingertips parted your folds, carefully exploring you without granting you any relief. Instead of responding to his question, only whimpers fell from your lips. Little did he know that you had already been dripping with desire the moment he stepped through your door. 

He removed his hand and demanded, "Answer me."

You turned your head to be able to look at him from the corners or your eyes and whispered, "I was getting excited for you to get home."

You felt him pushing his hips against yours, his clothed hardness pressing into your skin. He knew exactly what you wanted but he still wasn't done teasing you when he asked, "Is that all?"

His hands flew to your waist, gliding underneath your shirt to feel more of you. Despite already feeling light-headed you knew that he wouldn't end his torture until you would tell him exactly what you wanted. 

"I want you to…," you began but were interrupted by a moan falling from your lips when you felt his fingers brushing over your breasts. 

"So desperate," he chuckled. 

After taking a deep breath, you tried as hard as you could to find your words. You were certain you’d completely lose your mind if you didn’t feel him inside you soon. 

"Fuck me, please," you begged. "Please, Spencer. I need you."

The sound of him undoing his belt made you even more desperate. It took him just a few seconds to let his pants drop to the floor but it seemed like an eternity to you. When the tip of his cock made contact with your wetness, you instantly tilted your hips to let him glide into you.

"Here,” he groaned. “Take it like a good girl."

He pushed into you with one swift motion, finding no resistance from your body. You were ready to take all of him in, eager to finally be completely filled out by him. When he reached your deepest point, he took a moment to appreciate the sensation of being enveloped by you. 

Without a warning he began pushing into you at a ruthless pace. Spencer was aware how pleasurable that angle was for you, having no reason to hold back. You couldn't hold yourself up on your elbows anymore, your upper body lying almost flat on the wooden surface of the table. The piece of furniture shook from the force Spencer was displaying but neither of you seemed to care. 

The room quickly filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure and your bodies colliding over and over again. For a moment you envied Spencer’s position. There was hardly anything you loved more than watching his cock disappearing inside your body. You were sure that he was mesmerized by that sight right then. 

Closing your eyes, you focussed on the sensation of him pushing into you. You were at his mercy, unable to move away as he gripped your hips tightly to take you more forcefully than ever. With each thrust he reached your deepest point, stretching your walls in the best way imaginable.  

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, turning your head until he could see the side of your face. His cheeks were flushed and his chest was heaving as he moved against you but you were sure he had never looked more beautiful. 

Without slowing down, he purred, "Is that what you wanted?" 

"Yes," you sighed. 

You wanted to tell him how good he made you feel, how much you appreciated him always taking care of you like that. But no words made it past your lips, the pleasure clouding your mind making it impossible to speak. You hoped that Spencer knew anyway.

"You feel so good," he cooed. "So fucking good for me." 

When he got dangerously close to his breaking point, he slowed down his motions.

"Don't stop," you whimpered. "Come inside me, please."

"Fuck!"

That was the last thing you heard before he began thrusting into you almost erratically until you felt him sharing his essence with you. The sensation of him losing himself inside you pushed you over the edge as well, each of his throbs answered by you pulsing around him. 

When he had nothing left to give, he stepped back, removing himself from you. You whined at the loss of contact but he was quick to soothe you by wrapping his arms around you as soon as you were back on your feet. 

"Are you okay, love?" He whispered before softly kissing your cheek. 

"Yes, just gotta clean up."

Spencer told you to wait for a second while he disappeared in the bathroom just to return with a damp washcloth moments later. He motioned for you to sit down on the dining table, finding your mouth in a sweet kiss before beginning to carefully rid you of the evidence of your shared desire. When he was done, you wanted to get up but he hindered you from moving away. 

He smirked at you and let you know, "I'm not done with you yet."

He grabbed a chair to sit down in front of you, spreading your legs further to make room for him. As he began kissing up your thigh, you knew one thing for sure - you definitely needed to buy more skirts. 

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @lover-of-books-and-tea @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93

Join my taglist here

[covenha]

Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse. Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader Genre: crack, technically angst?? but it gets better in the next part I swear, fluff honestly god bless hongjoong's heart Warnings: none that I can think of tbh but if i missed anything please lmk! WC: 808 a/n: I am finally back and this is my proof of life. had a bajillion exams and things to study for so I took an unintended hiatus but I finally have time since it's christmas break and I am so excited to be extending the ateez simpverse! as always, none of the characters' behaviors in this fic represent their personalities in real life. and reblogs and feedbacks are always deeply appreciated and keep me motivated to write these things so they are highly encouraged :))

Nerd!joong takes a long look at himself in the mirror, he’s sporting a brand new letterman jacket over his simple blue jeans and white t-shirt. He looked put together. So why was he so nervous today? 

Well, it’s a bit of a long story. You see, today was not just any ordinary weekday for Hongjoong. Today, he will finally muster up the courage to talk to a girl he’s had the fattest crush on since he first laid his eyes on you in his introductory Philosophy class. 

With a jittery kick in his step. He gets ready for his commute to school, calling out to any deity out there for some good luck. 

“God, what’s got you so worked up today? If you shake any harder, you’ll be putting Mrs. Hong’s rose toy to shame.” Seonghwa points out his nervous body language. Hongjoong is staring at the entrance to the amphitheater with laser focus. He’s fidgeting with his fingers and his legs are bouncing up and down. 

“I’m just waiting for her to get here…” Hongjoong trails off, not daring to look away from the door for more than a few seconds. 

“So, you’re really going to go for it? I mean, from what I hear she can be a little cutthroat, Joong.” Seonghwa warns him, but his words shoot through his ear and out the opposite. 

There were rumors going around that you were not exactly all sunshine and rainbows. You seemingly had a neutral face plastered on your face, only showing a smile every now and then with your small circle of friends. Seonghwa would describe you as “such a scorpio” with your sharp gaze, almost resembling a black cat in a way. Jongho and Wooyoung had heard that you were quite blunt and straight to the point. And although there is nothing necessarily wrong with that, they feared it may be too much for Hongjoong’s heart. But alas, he was smitten with you. 

From the way you look so cute when you’re concentrating while taking notes, or how you tugged at your sleeves when the weather grew colder. So when you finally walk through those doors, his heart picks up its pace and his eyes widen. 

You looked beautiful today. Of course, you always looked beautiful to him. You settle down in your usual spot on the left side of the seats and he slowly makes his way towards you. He takes a deep breath as he nears your seat and then stops right where you are seated. 

“Can I help you?”, you ask him. 

He realizes he had been standing beside your seat for an uncomfortable while, merely just staring at you. Oh God, you probably thought he was a creep! Quick, do something. Compliment her! Girls like compliments right? 

“I like your scarf!” Hongjoong manages to blurt out, in spite of the massive brain fart going on inside of his head. Unfortunately, he says it a little bit too loud, causing people in the area to shift their focus to the both of you, making you want to shrink into your seat. In the distance, Seonghwa can be seen face-palming as he watches his friend crash and burn in real time. 

“.... thanks?” you mutter. 

“Uhm, I was wondering what your ideal type of guy is?” Hongjoong finally musters up the courage to say something with actual substance. This was the moment he had been waiting for. All those weeks of yearning, the longing glances at you in class, the sudden get-up with his outfit today. It all led to this moment where he finally has the courage to- 

“I like guys who don’t talk to me.” Your words put an abrupt stop to his train of thought. 

“Oh.” 

“Joong, it’s gonna be fine. There’s plenty of other people in the world! Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.” Seonghwa tries to reason out with a tipsy Hongjoong in their shared dorm room. 

“But she was gonna be my wiiiiiiiife!” he whines at his friend. 

“We were gonna raise some kitties with a cute little catio in the back of the house and, and, and I was going to cook her breakfast in the mornings and we were going to live happily ever after with our scorpio babies!” he rambles on, distraught at his planned future with you not going exactly to plan. 

“Hongjoong you guys are not married.” Seonghwa corrects his drunk friend. 

“We are in the sims!” He pouts. 

Seonghwa sighs. Hongjoong was deep into his feelings for you and confirmed Seonghwa’s deepest fears. Hongjoong was a simp. (On this blog we love simp!joong!!)

And as he stared at his forlorn simp of a best friend, he knew what he had to do. He had to consult the Reddit gods. He was going to use the power of manifestation. 

[bodyswap005]

"Switching Roles" Kevin Alvarez and Timothee Chalamet

Kevin Álvarez’s Perspective:

I’ve always dreamed of being an actor. Since I was a kid, I spent hours in front of the TV, mimicking my idols and imagining the bright lights of Hollywood. However, life took me down a different path: football. Now, with Club América, I’ve achieved something many consider a dream, but deep down, there’s always been a yearning for the cinema.

I remember the day it was announced that Timothée Chalamet would be coming to Mexico to promote "Dune: Part II." My excitement was palpable. Here was a talented young star, acclaimed for his acting, while I was just an emerging footballer, longing to be like him. I spent the days leading up to the match thinking about what I would say if I ever had the chance to meet him. But football was my reality, and for now, it was my priority.

On match night, the stadium was packed. The atmosphere was electric, and adrenaline coursed through my veins. As I ran across the field, I felt alive. Yet in the back of my mind, that voice kept dreaming of acting, of being part of stories larger than myself.

Then, everything changed in an instant. A ball, struck with force, flew into the stands and hit me. When I regained consciousness, I wasn’t on the pitch anymore; I was in an unfamiliar locker room, staring at a mirror that reflected Timothée Chalamet. Confusion and panic overwhelmed me. What had happened? How was it possible that I was in his body?

Facing life as an actor was terrifying. The cameras, the lights, the pressure of being in the spotlight… it wasn’t easy. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw someone I had always admired, but now I had to live that reality. I had to attend meetings and auditions, and while I initially felt like a fish out of water, I soon began to find my footing.

It was incredible to be in his world, surrounded by writers and directors, but I also felt out of place. The pressure to meet expectations was overwhelming. Sometimes, I wished to return to the pitch, where my skills were clear, and the thrill of the game filled me with life.

Yet there was something magical about the world of cinema. I learned to appreciate the art of storytelling and the dedication each performance requires. In one of those meetings, I remembered why I loved acting and how it had always been a part of me. So, I started to immerse myself in roles, to feel the emotions of characters, and to channel my own dreams through them.

Meanwhile, Timothée, in my body, was discovering the world of football. I could see his excitement and struggle. He trained hard, trying to understand the game and meet the expectations of being a professional athlete. With each match, I felt his desire to succeed and his respect for the sport. That made me realize how much love is needed in both disciplines.

The climax arrived during a crucial match. Timothée had to take a decisive penalty kick, and as I watched him, I felt a mix of nerves and pride. When he scored, a wave of happiness washed over me. In that moment, I understood that although we were in different bodies, we shared the same desire: to be the best at what we love.

Finally, fate brought us together again. In a strange connection, we returned to our original bodies. It was as if an invisible thread had pulled us back, giving us a new perspective on what it means to be an actor and an athlete.

Today, as I look to the future, I know I won’t abandon my dream of acting. I’ve learned to value every part of my journey, to embrace both football and cinema. Timothée and I shared an experience that bonded us in a unique way. Life is a stage, and I’m ready to shine on it, whether with a ball at my feet or on the big screen.

Part two here:

[p3sephone]

My Baby, 1. (Dark! Ex! Wanda x reader)

Summary: you are Wanda's ex and you broke up with her a long time ago. Then Wanda decides it's a good idea to become your neighbor and take her baby back, one way or another.

Warnings: this is a dark! Serie about Wanda Maximoff that will contain dark themes such as violence, breaking in, non-con and similar stuff in the future chapters. Every chapter will have its own warnings to be safe. This is pure fiction and this character does not belong to me. Minors are NOT allowed, only +18. Any kind of interactions such as reblogs, comments or likes are much welcome and appreciated. 🤎

Serie Masterlist.

Chapter warnings: anxiety, implied stalking. This story is going to be a little slow in the first chapters, hope you don't mind and enjoy! <3

After that event, you immediately rushed to lock the front door, not that it was any great guarantee of safety against Wanda, but it was still a start. You realized shortly after that you had finally started breathing deeply again and your heartbeat slowed; that woman really scared you. You let your tired body collapse into one of the armchairs near the sofa where your roommate, Jane, was lying.

You laughed in surprise, seeing her arrive and almost trip on the stairs with a gift in her hands, you assumed for you. Everything seemed like before again.

Your mind continued to race and race, but it never reached its destination. You were literally groping in the dark and anxiety began to assail you. Maybe Wanda remembered the story as it was many years ago, when it was just starting out and when you always protected each other, and finally something more than friendship was born. You still hold on to those memories with immense nostalgia, but the one after that, no… it was too bad to remember. And now everything seemed to be coming back to the surface. It's like you'd forgotten about your past all these years and you were convinced you'd pushed it away, but instead it had all come back against you again, to throw you down into the pit. Again. She was back.

You cleared your throat, deciding to get up and go to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. You had to calm down, chaos wasn't good for you and it certainly wasn't the solution. You heard some small noises from the living room, so you ran back there, only to see Jane groggily trying to get up.

"Jane? Jane, are you okay?" your tone was full of concern as you approached your roommate. By now you had been living together for a year and were on good terms. You more for your own, she more eccentric, but you made a great couple. She looked at you strangely and then looked at herself on the couch, and finally moved her gaze to the envelope near the couch.

"Yes, uhm… the neighbor came, I think Wendy, or I don't know… hey, is that for me?" you almost laughed at her constant change of subject. She was always like that, light as a breeze of fresh summer air even in the way she spoke and behaved. You had finally managed to calm down seeing her awake and you decided to take advantage of it to quickly change the subject.

"Yes! I decided to give you a little surprise, since today we are exactly one year of living together! Only I tripped and it fell before, but well… I hope it's intact." you deliberately ignored the part about the neighbor "Wendy" and instead used the gift to recreate the atmosphere that was there before Wanda. Jane immediately jumped from the couch and almost squealed with joy, then inexplicably went upstairs and climbed the stairs, towards her room.

-

Wanda had become extremely powerful with her powers, she was capable of doing so many things. Yet the only thing she couldn't seem to do was get you back, and that was the only thing that mattered to her. She could see the scene that was taking place in your living room in a crystal clear way, and how stupid must you have been to think that this time would be different? The other times she had been too soft, too patient.

You had changed by now, it was as if you had woken up from her spell, and Wanda knew that after all, haunting you like this wasn't like the Avengers, or a good person in general. But she couldn't really do much about it, and besides, you were a good couple.

She sighed heavily, deciding that she had had enough of seeing you and your roommate happy and carefree and exchanging gifts, so she focused on something else. It wasn't enough to be your neighbor, right? No, she had to fit into your routine, you had to see her everywhere. Then you won't be able to ignore her and pretend that everything will be okay anymore. Wanda smiled, deciding to leave her apartment and go to the nearest market. She was sure she would see you there, because you go shopping punctually every Thursday. She was already looking forward to the moment when she would see you again.

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

hii I was wondering if you could write a

miles morales x male! reader

where the two kiss because they’re curious about their sexuality and that leads to them finding out they aren’t exactly as straight as they initially thought

Ahhhh this is such a good idea!!! Thank you so much!!

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

The Answer Sitting in Front of Me

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: All questions have an answer to find. You just didn’t think you’d find yours in your best friends lips…

Warnings: No actual warnings, just two teenagers figuring themselves out!

It’s the final class of the day, and you’re struggling to stay awake. This isn’t like you, considering the fact you normally go to bed at a decent time so at the end of the day, you’re pretty awake. But today was different. Or rather, last night was different. Recently, you’ve been having…doubts about yourself. Specifically your sexuality. So to—hopefully—get your answer, you spent all night on Google searching up different tests, articles, and videos to answer your burning question. But alas, flashy Buzzfeed quizzes aren’t the remedy you hoped for. So now you’re just here. Tired, ready to get back to the dorms, and still unsure.

A crumpled up piece of paper lands onto your desk. You know exactly who it’s from as you open the note and read it.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Are you alright?”

“Damn, I look so tired you can tell from behind me..” You reply, and ball the note back up as you nonchalantly stretch your arms and drop the note onto his desk. This is how close you and Miles are. It’s easy to tell how the other is feeling just from body language. But at the same time, it wouldn’t take a genius to tell you’re pretty out of it today. You patiently wait for his reply as your teacher drones on and on about something you’ve forgotten about and, frankly, don’t care for. The note returns.

“Yeah. But for real, you’re normally pretty awake when we’re about to leave. What’s wrong?”

You think for a long time. You couldn’t possibly just tell him you’re going through a sexuality crisis! It’d put your relationship in jeopardy! A sigh escapes your lips as you try to think of a bluff, only to scrap the idea knowing Miles would catch it and hound you until you cave in. But what could you possibly say? “Oh, yeah, i think I’m gay and stayed up all night thinking about it. No biggie.” Yeah, right. But at the same time, he opened up to you about him being Spider-Man, so why can’t you just explain your problem to him? “Because he’d hate you.” is the lie your brain is plagued with. You know Miles isn’t homophobic and you know he’d probably just try to help you out. You’ve been through thick and thin with him. He can trust you, and you can trust him.

You realize you’re taking too long when another note flies onto your desk. You don’t read it and just answer the other one: “It’s kinda complicated. Swing by my room when you get a chance, alright?” You toss it back and refocus your attention to the lesson.

It'll be alright.

Right?

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

Time flies and you’re now sitting at your desk in your dorm. Your roommate’s off to who knows where, so you’re by yourself just waiting for that fateful tap on your window from Miles. Normally after school he’ll do some spider stuff before coming back and chilling out for the rest of the day, most of the time with you. That is, unless some guy tries to wreck havoc on Brooklyn, and it’s up to Miles to take them down. As much as it sucks when he has to leave, you admire how dedicated and passionate he is about doing what’s right and protecting what he loves most. You also appreciate how much he’s helped you throughout the school year. High school is no joke, and there have been some times when you felt like all was hopeless. But with Miles there, you came out of those slumps for the better. You also admire the way his eyes shine with that cheeky glow when he says an exceptionally cheesy joke, with that charming smile to go with it. And his kinda cute laugh and—

Oh no.

You groan and lean back in your chair. It’s those thoughts again. The very thoughts that have you so tired and confused. The line between admiration for guys and attraction towards guys has been blurred and now you’re not sure if there even is a difference for you. You close your eyes and continue to think before a shadow blocks out the sun and you hear a knock at the window. “Here we go..” you think to yourself as you unlock the window and open it for Miles.

"How you been?" Miles says as he steps through with that same sweet enthusiasm. He’s not in his Spider-Man suit so you figure all went well. “I’ve just been chilling out,” you say and sit back down, “nothing too exciting.”

He hums in response before taking a seat on your bed. “So what was it you needed to explain that was so complicated? Don’t tell me you’re having an identity crisis!” he jokes. You don’t smile because that’s exactly what it is. He notices the change in your demeanor and grows worried. “Ah..I see,” he looks over you for any hints as to what’s bothering you, “uhm…would you feel comfortable explaining?” he asks.

You take a long moment to think. Is this really a good idea? Should you even tell him? It’s not like you’re confessing to him so bad how could it be? You take a slow, long breath in, and release it just as slow. “I think….i think i like guys…” You finally say. “And i spent all night trying to figure that out, which is why i was so tired in class today.”

Well there it is. It’s out.

You both sat in silence and stared at each other for a long moment. Miles looked like he was in disbelief. Great, you blew it. You go to try and reverse the damage before Miles speaks up.

“Wait, really?! You too?!” He exclaims much to your surprise. You too? Wait so does he…

“You’ve been thinking the same thing?” You ask him.

“Yeah! Like, all the time!”

This is some news. You thought he was gonna try to leave and awkwardly forget about the situation. Never did you consider the possibility of him thinking the same thing. But now what? You know he’s possibly not straight like you, but what are you supposed to do with this information? Honestly you didn’t think you’d make this far. “So,” you speak up, “what now? I mean, we’ve got the same problem. How do we solve it?” A good move on your end. Not too leading, but leading enough to keep the conversation going without you both just changing the subject.

“Uhm…have you ever kissed a girl before?” He asks, his eyes avoiding yours.

“No, why?"

"Well, i was just thinking we could..." he trails off, hoping you get the memo.

"Think we could—“ you’re cut off by the realization hitting you— “Oh…i…get what you’re saying. Kiss and compare how it feels when we kiss a girl, right?”

He sheepishly nods. “Yeah, but neither of us have kissed a girl so it wouldn’t work.” His eyes fall to the floor, and you’re stuck looking at the wall. A kiss? Would that really work? Maybe neither of you need to have kissed a girl—or anyone else for that matter—to see compare how it feels when you kiss a boy. You’re a boy. He’s a boy. Why should you have any prior experience? But is it a good idea? What if you like it, but he doesn’t? There’s only one way to find out..

Forget words. You get up and stand in front of Miles. Your hands find a spot on his face and they stay there as you look deep into his eyes. A question. A silent way of asking for permission when words aren’t good enough. He nods and you lean in, gently bringing his face to yours.

After what feels like an eternity, your lips meet. At first you’re both hesitant, but it’s as if a spark went through you both as you relax and lean in to the kiss. Miles holds your hands on his face and let’s the kiss linger for a moment longer than you both thought it’d last. It’s the sweetest first kiss one could have. The world only starts to spin again when you both pull away, practically breathless.

"Did…did that answer your question?" Miles asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah. Did it answer yours?”

Miles nods and leans in again for another kiss with more confidence. His hands find yours and he brings you down onto the bed to sit beside him, before slowly pulling away again.

“Yeah…” he breathes.

You’re a lot more awake now.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸