#he was like put off but trying to give it a chance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tswkento · 2 days ago

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a.n.: hello!! i hope you enjoy reading this, this is pure fluff. ive been working on this for a few days so please be a darling and give it a chance!! thank you <33

c.w.: 3787 wc, fluff fluff fluff, lil bit of angst, hurt/comfort, whipped nanami ffs.

sum.: after years of excruciating yearning and pining, nanami can recall distant memories of the moments he thought he loved you and the exact moment he voiced his feelings, or—

4 times nanami thinks that he loves you and 1 time he says it out loud.

nanami takes another sip from his drink as his eyes roam around the room, barely stopping on the faces of the people. they only ever paused when you came into the view; with your very cute, slightly tipsy smile and shining gaze, that got brighter whenever you caught him looking at you.

or maybe he was imagining things. after all, he’s been drinking too.

as he patiently waited for you to receive your present from under the big tree in gojo’s living room, nanami couldn’t help the anticipation bubbling in his chest while the other’s opened their gifts.

the game of secret santa was a nice idea and it was always a pleasant feeling — seeing someone’s joy over a simple present, no matter how well-thought or effortless it was. and it so happened that on the day yuuji and nobara came up with the suggestion, offering nanami a handful of small papers, he picked out the card with your name scribbled on it.

and although very much enjoyable — the satisfaction he felt at the moment was fairly easy to hide from the kids. he had an opportunity to give you something meaningful and no one would be weird about it since it was secret santa.

“oh? it’s from nanami!” you beam at him after you check the little card that was carefully attached to the ribbon. nanami nods down at you as he leans against the armrest of the couch where the kids are settled.

you eye the wrapped box in your hands with a curious glint and shake it a little, bringing it to your ears as you try to take a guess at what it is. nanami bites down a splitting smile, covering his mouth with the glass in his hand as he watches you tear off the wrapping paper, managing to slap away satoru’s impatient hands that volunteered to do it for you.

you open the medium, velvety box and gasp audibly, covering your mouth with your hand as you look up at nanami from your spot on the fluffy carpet. standing up abruptly, you look into the box again and stare at him with a petulant pout, the frown between your eyebrows calling for him to smooth out the crease of the skin with his finger.

“kento, i,” you take another look at the item inside the box and then back at him, “i can’t accept it, no way.”

nanami is acutely aware of the fact that everyone in the room is watching you two. he prays that the hot sensation he feels crawling up his neck isn’t showing itself as redness of any kind. but at the same time, he likes to imagine that there’s only two of you in the whole world right now and it turns his mind into a fucking mush.

he clears his throat and moves the glass away from his mouth to speak clearly,

“nonsense, it’s your rightful gift,” he puts down his drink with a prominent click and holds out his hand, “let me put it on you.”

your pout slowly dissolves into a timid smile as you put the box in his hand and step closer, hitting nanami with the barely noticeable wave of your sweet perfume. when he looks at you again and sees the way your eyes giddily follow the movements of his fingers, kento can’t stop the corners of his lips from slightly curling upwards.

at the contact with the supple skin of your wrist, his fingertips twitch — electricity running through them, up his arm and straight to his heart, the impulses quickening its pace. nanami breathes in through his nose slowly as he closes the clasp of the watch on the inside of your wrist.

“must’ve cost you a fortune.” you mumble with a dreamy sigh, glancing up at him only to find him already staring at you.

he pats your wrist with finality and lets you admire the accessory on your own, engraving the sight of your enticed expression into his mind. it takes him a second to realise that he has to say something and the alcohol that has worked its way up his brain makes him let out an unfiltered thought,

“worth it.”

your head snaps up at him and you beam at him before your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly with a string of thank you’s falling from your pretty lips. kento hugs you close with one hand, willing to ignore the knowing looks the both of you are receiving from everyone in the room, and thinks that he loves you.

ii.

nanami partially expects to see you when he enters the archive room.

you’re already settled by one of the few desks, fingers tapping against the smooth surface of the table as you read the paper whilst periodically checking on the screen of your laptop. the movements in the background seem to disturb your peace as much as kento tries to be silent, and you lock eyes with him, giving him a cute little wave and a bright beam that causes his brain to become empty.

when you notice the stack of papers in his hands, your smile turns sympathetic and you determinedly step from behind your desk, telling him that you’ll make him some coffee too. kento nods in gratitude and forces himself not to follow your temporarily exiting figure so he can stop thinking about how pretty your uniform looks on you and how much he’d like to spend time with you alone aside from the countless of times he’s caught you in this fucking archive room.

it’s a comfortable, quiet spot for anyone to deal with never-ending paperwork so it’s quite common for him to meet you here. probably one of the few reasons why he prefers this room — kento can always just get lost in random conversations with you and ignore the fact that he’d rather stay with you here than go to his empty apartment.

the tea you bring him is always something new. “i like to try new things” you beamed at him when he inquired about your little hobby, and then your face scrunched with disgust at the taste of your newly bought tea. at his eloquently raised brow you only rolled your pretty eyes and stood up to go make something different, at which point he couldn’t help his fond smile.

this time, situation seems to be a lot more dire because you bring two cups of freshly brewed black coffee with two cubes of sugar on the cups’ saucers. he’s already noticed that the reports you are observing are not yours and at his question you explain that gojo’s reports on his students’ missions are always an unorganised mess left for you to clean up.

kento doesn’t hide the disdain spreading over his features and focuses on his own papers. and at first, he doesn’t even notice how quiet you’ve gotten — by the time he finishes his work there is no sound of your pen clicking on the surface of your desk, none of the soft tapping of your fingers over the keyboard and the silence isn’t filled with your occasional hums or sighs.

oh, he lets out when he notices your form slumped on your table, head settled on your forearm with your posture situated awkwardly. that must be very uncomfortable, nanami thinks to himself before he stands up, pointedly ignoring the popping sounds of his own spine and knees, and strides over to you. one part of him really doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you look fucking angelic: cheek smushed against your forearm, lips jutted out in a pouty way and a tiny trail of drool escaping your mouth.

he wonders if you look like this when you’re sleeping on your bed too. maybe even more peaceful than this, with your head untied and your clothes more fitting for a good night’s sleep. kento wonders if he will ever be able to witness that dreamy sight.

he can’t resist the urge to touch your face; his fingertips hover above your cheekbones before sliding over the silky smooth skin, revelling in the suppleness of it before moving a lone strand of hair away from it. you’re so beautiful, nanami thinks, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

and when you stir awake he doesn’t even process it at first, just stares down at you dumbly for a second before stepping away and clearing his throat because fucking hell, he’s in love. and you don’t even understand what’s going on. you crack your neck and groan in discomfort all while he stares down at you, all of his attempts at saying something failing miserably. you catch his figure being close and ask him if you were out for long, the slight hoarseness of your voice enchanting him completely.

and then his plans of sleeping early tonight get thrown out of the window because his mouth opens before his brain comprehends his thoughts,

“do you need help with these?” he can’t stand the thought of you working on this stuff for longer than necessary and going home so late at night.

you give him a reluctant glance and do the same with the papers in front of you before nodding meekly and moving your chair to the side so he can fit another one for himself. nanami thinks it’s a win/win situation: you get to go home early and he gets to spend a little more time with you. and it doesn’t matter that he’s going to wake up groggy and with his back hurting like a bitch, it really doesn’t. not as long as you are fine.

iii.

annual gathering of all the existing clans and sorcerers was something nanami liked to avoid as many times as he could since he found them to be just another pompous event filled with meaningless chatter and old traditions. for him, at least. most of the time he had missions so he was dismissed, but this year he was free and basically forced by director yaga to attend.

he exits the main building, fishing a cigarette out of the inner pocket of his yukata as his eyes search for a secluded spot in the garden.

his steps come to a halt when his eye catches onto your blurry figure, entering through the gates. his hand with the cigarette stick between his thumb and index finger hover over his mouth as nanami watches you stepping closer and closer to him.

the distance between you two allows him to observe you for longer; the way your hair moves with every step you take, your own yukata that makes you look ethereal with the way its colours fit so well, the slightly vacant expression on your face before you notice him too and beam at him. kento’s lips curl into a small smile as he decides to meet you in the middle.

“thought you couldn’t make it tonight.” he mutters softly, noting how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

something happened, nanami can tell that, however he has no idea what. you fall into an easy pace along with him, locking your arms behind yourself as you timidly glance at him. nanami can’t really decipher that look so he chooses to continue leading you both somewhere private. the cigarette stays in his hand, saved for later.

“yeah, i had a thing.”

“a thing?”

“well…”

kento points at the small gazebo hidden behind the main building to which you nod silently, and when you both settle on the bench inside of it, he notices on your face how you’re pondering something very seriously. so he tries to be as gentle as possible when he says,

“is everything okay?”

you stay silent for a few seconds and just as you open your mouth to speak, nanami realises that he might just be unintentionally forcing you to speak.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he suggests, leaning down a bit to see more of your face.

your profile is beautiful. in the twilight of the night, despite the fact that his vision gets worse when it’s getting dark, nanami can always clearly distinguish your luminous eyes, your beautifully shaped nose and your pretty, rosy lips. all of your features have been engraved into his mind ever since he’s found himself staring at you with adoration bubbling in his chest and warmth spreading all over it.

you turn your head slowly, the weight of your thoughts etched into your expression. you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out and you close it, choosing to remain quiet. nanami’s concern must show on his face because you only bury your face in his shoulder, inhaling sharply before leaning your temple against the smooth surface of his yukata.

feeling your body relying on him feels a lot better than he thought it would. the weight of your head against his shoulder was soothing, a silent gesture of trust and comfort you felt from him.

kento gazes down at you and in a moment of tenderness rests his open palm on his thigh, a discreet motion that offers support, the one that you clearly desire right now. it shows in the way your hand hovers over his, hesitant but eager, and nanami makes an effort of gently catching it and placing it on his thigh. his thumb doesn’t stop rubbing circles over your skin until he feels you completely relax against him, not quite sleeping, yet not aware of your surroundings either. in your head, in your own world.

and while nanami basks in the warmth that radiates from your body, enveloping him from the side, he can only think about how much he loves you and how nice it feels to be trusted by you.

iv.

nanami wonders if he’ll be brave enough to tell you how he feels.

to understand that there is so much love inside of him is to also realise that there is no outlet for that love, and it’s depressing to say the least.

his days are filled with meaningless missions that could only be described as temporary solutions to a permanent problem that is etched into this world, but he can’t just not do it. he can’t do nothing, he’ll never forgive himself if he stoops to something like that again. nanami must remind himself that this is his duty and what he’s been born to do, and by the time he’s done with his affirmations the curse is already dissipating into the chilly air of the night and he’s going home.

would you reciprocate his feelings? would you give him a chance to put his everything into making you the happiest person alive instead of constantly thinking about preserving something that is already damaged — the system that everyone’s living in?

would you let him be selfish and share with him everything that makes you ‘you’? your mind, your soul, your body, your presence, your emotions, your everything. nanami knows he’d give you anything you’d ask him. even if it’s his heart, even if it’s already completely devoted to you — if you ask to have it in flesh he’d rip it out of his chest and present it to you like the finest things in the world because you deserve it.

he doesn’t remember the day his heart started reacting differently to your smiles and your laughter. the transition of his feelings from ‘friendly’ to ‘completely enamoured’ was so rapid yet so fluid, something he didn’t realise until he felt the full extent of it. when his brain melted at the sight of your radiant smile, and when the slightest bit of physical contact with you sent small electric tingles through his body, and also when the desire to be in close proximity with you clouded his mind whenever you were in the room.

kento yearns to be close to you; he wants it so much his fingers twitch with longing to hold and need to feel. he wants, wants and wants, but he does it quietly and you know nothing. it’s crazy how he feels so fucking much even though he is nearly thirty and it’s no time for this kind of thing in the hectic lifestyle he chose to have, yet he can’t stop himself from craving it — your love.

it’s also crazy that these thoughts occupy his head as soon as he sees you. hears you. feels you.

“kento?” you’d call out to him sweetly, waving your hand in front of his face, disturbing him from remembering the minuscule details of your face and your microexpressions. “are you even listening to me?”

“always.” he’d say without thinking because it’s true.

you’d eye him sceptically for a second or two before giving him a pleased smile and leaning in to continue your storytelling, compelled by his lovesick gaze and completely ignorant to his hands itching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. fuck, if this is hell.

he loves you, he loves you, he fucking loves you—

“have you ever been in love?” you ask him casually as you pace around his kitchen idly while he washes the remnants of the dirty dishes.

it’s a peaceful night after a great evening spent with itadori and you, but itadori’s gone now and you stayed to help him clean up. though, naturally, nanami shooed you away with your every attempt at touching anything, telling you that your company is enough. you pouted at his nonchalant stubbornness, but didn’t try to resist.

nanami wipes the drops of water from around the sink and washes his hands carefully before he turns to face you, “have you?”

it’s a feeble attempt at moving the attention away from himself and onto you, yet it works and nanami can let himself exhale shakily when your gaze leaves him while you contemplate your answer.

“i feel like i am in love.”

nanami’s fingers close on the edge of the counter he’s been leaning against, eyes studying your dreamy expression whilst you idly gazed at the view from the window.

“he makes me feel very special.”

you glance at him for a second before stepping around the counter to stand by his side. nanami follows your movements carefully, mahogany eyes never leaving you as he tries to ignore the way his mouth dries at the mention of ‘he’. he does his best not to jump into conclusions and chooses to listen more.

“he does?” he croaks out pitifully, eager to hear more. his brain is frying.

you tilt your head up, fluttering lashes partially obscuring the sight of your piercing eyes. nanami feels his chest tighten painfully before he releases a semi-steady puff of air, waiting for you to continue.

“he is so gentle with me. treats me like i’m made of porcelain, treats me like i’m the only one.”

you are, nanami wants to say, but he can’t seem to form a logical sentence — not when your pinkie is grazing his hand on the counter and your lips soften into something serene, something content.

his brain seems to be catching up to his actions a little later than usual because before he knows it, nanami is allowing himself to occupy your space as he rounds you into the counter, letting his hand cage you. he knows his face gives it away; the longing he feels, the overwhelming need he feels to be yours and for you to be his, to give away the thing you rightfully own — his heart. but he has to wait.

“do you think that means something?” kento whispers tentatively, scared to push you away.

the corners of your lips twitch as your hand settles on his forearm softly, stroking up and down over the length of it whilst you watch him carefully. you don’t even know how much power you have over him right now and it drives him wild because he is hungry for everything you can give him. even the slightest touch makes him lose his mind and this— this is almost too much for one night.

“i don’t know.” you shrug, “does it mean something?”

“yes, it–” his trembling hand leaves the counter in favour of settling on the side of your face, fingers nimbly pushing back messy strands of hair away from your beautiful face. nanami exhales shakily before continuing, “it means a lot.”

“nana–”

“i love you.”

and then he kisses you.

he wants to fucking punch himself into face because there is no consideration of whether you’d be comfortable with him kissing you or anything else, it’s pure insanity that operates his brain and it leaves him 3 seconds later when he freezes and pulls away only to be pulled back by your soft hands on the sides of his face.

his arms wrap around your figure, embracing you in a manner that is more touch starved rather than romantic: with your body flush against his and his hands spread over the eloquent expanse of your back, his feet caging yours inside and his fingers twitching like crazy. nanami breathes in through his nose and focuses on your touch to stop himself from completely shutting off, finding the sensation of your fingers carding through his undercut and gently cradling his jaw to be very soothing.

soothing, warm, gentle, loving — just like he imagined it would be.

the softness of your lips is heavenly against his, the sweet taste of your mouth is even stronger as it fogs his brain and clouds his gaze, filling it with desire for more. nanami feels the restraints he put around himself coming loose with the hesitant swipe of your tongue over his bottom lip that prompts him to gently push into your mouth with his own eliciting a strangled moan from you. fucking hell— he has to control himself.

kento pulls away and his eyes are frantic in the way they scan you; noting the heat emitting from your skin, the shallowness of your breaths, how your chest heaves up and down and how your lips part ever so invitingly, luring him in. the thought of never experiencing this with you makes his skin crawl so he focuses completely on this moment, this second.

“why’d you– why’d you stop, kento?” you whisper into the space between you too, gliding your thumb over his cheekbone.

and you look so pretty. absolutely stunning, donning a sweet, worried expression that only spurs him on, adding fuel into his endless desire to tell you about how much he loves you. so he does, sealing every one of his confessions with a passionate kiss.

“i love you.”

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biteyoubiteme · 2 days ago

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don't you want me?

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: don't you want your boyfriend?

warnings: 🔞!!! this is just smut no plot lol, some nipple play, soobin calls reader bunny, no protection, creampie, fingering, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.9k

an: thank you so much saturn for requesting! I hope you like this one sorry it’s short ;-; <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

had only been a day since the last time you had seen him, snuggled up in his bed after he had tired himself out with using you. It wasn't uncommon for him to go round after round, at least not with you. No partner had ever made him feel this needy, always hard even after one go. His whiny pleas to keep going mixed with his scrunched brow always worked to get you to agree. He was always so good at begging.

You had planned a study date, your bag weighing down your shoulder as you knocked on his door. Sometimes you even got some studying done, only it was usually when you were in public and not plagued by the thought of his bedroom only being a foot away. Because you were also to blame for always getting him started, purposefully wearing things he couldn't keep his eyes off of, and brushing his thigh every other time you had the chance to.

Now was no different, although it wasn't intentional, you really did think you would get some kind of studying done.Dressed down in your pajamas, oversized shirt covering your shorts enough to give soobin the illusion that you had none on in the first place. He pulls your bag from you, having enough control to place it down on the coffee table before tugging you down with him onto the couch.

“You didn't even say hi!” you're giggling, his kisses peppering down your neck, hips pushing you into the sofa, hands pushing up your shirt.

“Hi, hello, I'm sorry, I just missed you,” he's not even trying to hide the fact he's already hard, that he's been hard just thinking about you coming over.

“We both have exams tomorrow,” you try to remind him, fingers brushing through his hair as his lips are finding half-faded marks he's sucked onto your skin only the day before. “We should really study,”

“Don't you want me?” he asks, nose bumping your ear, hand sliding down the outside of your thigh. “because all I could think about was the way you felt under me,” he hooks his hand under your knee pulling your leg enough so that he can sink his hips closer to yours. “how am I supposed to pay attention to anything other than you?”

All you can respond with is a moan when he presses his bulge against you, dragging his hips to put pressure right on your clothed clit. “please bunny, please,”

You didn't need much begging to get stripped, even less begging when you finally felt him slip into you. His whining gasps fanning over your skin, one hand keeps him up and the other squeezes your breast, thumb running over your peaked nipple. “Look at your perfect tits, all for me,”

He's trying to hold back, to draw out the pleasure as long as he can but it's impossible when buried in you. Warm walls sucking him in, begging for him to just pound into you, push you into the sofa, and just take over without any thoughts on his mind. He wants to, just thinking about it makes him whimper, “Tell me you missed me, didn't you miss me?”

“Yes-” you gasp, arms wrapped around his neck, the heels of your feet digging into his ass pushing him closer to you. “I missed you so much,”

“I missed your perfect pussy, bunny, always so ready and wet for me,” all of his rambling broken up by throaty moans, “I can't stop thinking about you, filling you up,”

His rhythmic thrusts press so deep inside you, leaving you speechless with every drag. But he's not paying attention to getting you off just yet, his body disconnecting from his mind as he beats his hips against yours. He feels his orgasm building and knows any second he will cum. Enough to make it so easy to keep going, stuffing it all right back in, just thinking about it has him whimpering in your ear.

“Are you going to cum for me?” you ask, his body falling closer to you, always wanting to be pressed as close as he can get when he cums.

He’s nodding into your neck, breathy whines mixing with his answer. “Yes, oh god- please,” every sloppy thrust followed by his little ah-ah’s. “You feel so good, I’m-” he feels his balls draw up, his hips stuttering to a stop as he lets out streams of cum into your waiting cunt, cock pulsing as he moans into your neck. It isn't until he pulls out and catches his breath that he realizes that you didn't finish, too caught up in chasing his own high.

“I'm so sorry bunny, let me take care of you as good as you take care of me,”

He gave you no time to realize the switch, his long fingers shoving into your sensitive entrance, pushing back in all his cum as he pumps in time with his previous thrusts. He uses his other hand to fiercely rub at your clit. The stimulation makes your back arch, hands scratching at the fabric of the couch. “Look at my pretty bunny,” he coos, the squelching sounds from all your slick mixing with your moans. “Are you going to cum for me?” he asks, using your own words on you.

“Yes- yes-” It's almost too much for you, his fingers not stopping even as you cum. You're a mess of stammering words and faltering breaths, trying to find yourself as your knees try to close in around him.

Just watching you fall apart is enough to get him semi-hard again, ready for another round. He slathers his wet fingers over your entrance, keeping as much wetness as possible from sliding out. “Just one more please-”

“Soobin our exams-”

“Please, I'll be quick, don't you want me?”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! and thank you to @hyukascampfire for being the sweetest angel who ever lived, personally taking the time to read this for me ily. 🤍

#cams!1kevent #cams!hardhours #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #txt x reader #soobin txt #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #huening kai

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 1 day ago

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Sorry - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Jon barely shifted the Mustang into park before jumping out and sprinting toward the house's front door. “Dom!” he called, frowning as the house was deathly quiet. Glancing back, he noticed her car was not parked out front, and his heart sank further. He then walked over to the garage door, his frown deepening as he noticed it empty too.

Sighing. Jon pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Dom’s number, cursing as it went straight to voicemail “Fuck” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “So fucking stupid.”

He tried calling Dom two more times before calling her sister.

“Hello?”

“Muf–”

“You fucked up.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jon replied, trying to keep his temper in check. “I need to talk to her, she with you?”

“Mmhm,” Desiree, replied as she looked over at her sister who was sitting on the couch, staring off into space. “I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Jon.”

“Look, just put her on the pho–”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” Desiree stood from her seat on the couch and went into the kitchen. “Going back to your ex is crazy Jon! What were you thinking?!”

“I didn’t go back to my damn ex! I just–”

“You just what? Went over there to chill?” She scoffed “Just give her time. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.” Desiree didn’t give him a chance to respond before she hung up the phone.

“FUCK!” Jon yelled out and threw his phone down on the table.

DominiqueWalkerr_

liked by jonathanfatu, uceyjucey and 800,000 others

DominiqueWalkerr_: felt cute, definitely gonna delete later 💋

view all comments

jonathanfatu: 😘 😮‍💨❤️

user: i miss jimmy with naomi!

↪user: YESS! was just talking about that on twitter! THEY complemented each other!

↪ jonathanfatu: don't do that! Take this shit outta my fiance's comments.

Friday Afternoon

Dominique stayed with her sister for the rest of the week. In her mind, she and Jon were over. There was nothing he could do to fix this. He ran back to his ex again ain't no way she was just going back to him. While she was in the wrong for not being honest about her stance on marriage he was even more wrong.

Dominque let out an audible groan as she made her way into the arena that was hosting Friday Night Smackdown. She had tried every excuse in the book to get the day off, but it was short notice and they would have nobody to fill in for her.

“Now whose ass do I have to beat for putting a frown on that pretty face.” Dominque stopped walking at the sound of a very familiar voice. She had a wide smile on her face as she made eye contact with Dave and walked closer to him.

“Dave?! What are you doing here?” She said, giggling as he pulled her into a hug and lifted her off her feet.”

Dave Bautista looked like he hadn’t aged a day. Before Jon, Dave was the one Dominique thought she was going to marry. But after he left the WWE in 2014, their relationship couldn’t handle the distance. Their split was amicable, with both of them being extremely civil with each other. But as Dominique stood there in front of the first man she ever loved, she couldn’t help but think this was a sign. Maybe Dave was the one she was supposed to be with.

“Y’all in my neck of the woods. Of course, I had to come by and see Hunter.” He said answering her question. “And you.” He muttered the last part, as his eyes did a sweep over her, she didn’t miss the way his stare locked on her bare ring ringer before meeting her eyes again. They stood there staring at each other before they both burst into laughter.

“Whatever Dave.” She said as she rolled her eyes.

“I had to try, I mean imagine my surprise when I found out you were engaged to little Jonathan Fatu. You know I used to hang out with his pops and uncles back in the day.”

“You make it seem like you’re so old Dave,” Dominique said, rolling her eyes with a chuckle.

“I'm 53 years old Dee. I think that's pretty old.” They both laughed.

“Oh fuck” Josh whispered, his eyes bugging out his head and she saw Dominique and Dave fucking Bautista talking. “Oh shit Uce… this ain’t good.” He said looking over to Joe who seemed very disinterested. “Go interrupt them”

“What?” Joe snorted, raising an eyebrow at Josh Why me?”

Josh sucked his teeth. “Cause ain’t you like friends with him or something.” Joe let out a huff and began to walk towards Dave and Dominique but Jon stepped in front of him.

“Um hello, you two don’t know how to answer a phone?”

“Oh, uh..” Josh trailed off as his eyes flickered behind Jon. Jon frowned and turned around to see what Josh was looking at and his heart dropped into his stomach.

“What the fuck?” He whispered as he watched Dave lean down and hug Dominique. his voice thick with disbelief as he watched Dominique respond to Dave's hug. Jon couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dominique’s face. The way she looked at Dave—it wasn’t just a friendly exchange. It was something else, something that made Jon’s chest tighten in ways he hadn’t expected. He could feel his pulse quickening, the jealousy crawling up his throat, even as his mind tried to catch up with what was happening.

“Jon…” Josh said hesitantly, but Jon wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. His eyes were locked on Dominique and Dave, his body tense with a mix of frustration, helplessness, and raw jealousy. “Aye man, relax.. They could just be catching up.”

Josh and Joe shared a look before returning their attention to Jon who was glaring at Dave and Dominique. “Uce, do not go over there and start shit… Be level-headed. That’s Hunter’s boy… we don’t need no shit coming our way.” Joe warned. Jon sucked in a deep breath and gave Joe a curt nod before walking over to Dominique and Dave.

Jon clenched his jaw tight as he made his way over to the pair. He cleared his throat as he got closer, causing Dom and Dave to look over in his direction. Dave looked between the of them before excusing himself. “Can I talk to you?” Jon asked her, his voice coming off more hostile and rough than he intended.

“Jon..” Dominique trailed off with a sigh, her shoulder sagging as she turned her attention to him. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

"I don't want to fight either," Jon said, his tone softening slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry. I just - You gotta know I wasn’t on no disrespectful shit Dom. I wasn’t even thinking... I was going to my mom’s and I just…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I shouldn’t have went in. I should have come back home to you.”

“But you didn’t. Like honestly I’m at fault here too right? I mean I wasn’t honest about my stance on marriage but I have and would never do the shit that you did. Give that girl your number. Foul as fuck. And I forgave you for the whole Trinity situation the first time but now… I can’t”

“I know I messed up,” Jon repeated, trying to keep his voice steady, but now refusing to make eye contact with her. “But, Dom, I didn’t go to Trinity for some… rebound or whatever you’re thinking. I just needed to clear my head. But that kiss.” He stopped himself, his eyes going wide as he looked over at her. He watched as Dominque inhaled a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes at him.

“What kiss?” Dominique asked, he heart now pounding in her chest.

“Dominique, please. I– she kissed me but I pushed her away immediately.” He tried to reach out and grab her hand but she shook her head and backed away from him.

“Sure, okay,” She said as she rolled her eyes, not believing a word he said... “Here I was, just telling Dave that I was gonna swallow my pride and apologize to you and you out here running back to your ex?!”

“I wish you stop saying that shit.” he hissed. “Ain’t nobody running back to Trin.” By now. Josh and Joe had walked closer to them ready to separate the couple. Dominique snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So if you’re not running back to her what are you doing then?! You got drunk and went to her. You left our home and went to her and then your standing here telling me you kissed her?!” Dominique scoffed as she started backing away from Jon. “Nah, you got it. It’s obvious that you wanna still be with Trinity so i’m not gonna stop you. Go feel the glow or whatever.”

Josh coughed out a laugh whiched cause Jon and Joe to glare over at him.

“Dominique wait! Just listent to me.” Jon called out as he started following her down the hall. “I want you. I want to be with you! I wanna work this out.”

Dominique suddenly stopped, causing him to almost bump into to her. She turend on her heels and glared at him. “I wanted to work this out too. But.. I can’t.. Not after you just told me you kissed her.” Dominique shook her head and turned around again to walk away from Jon only to bump into someone. Once she seen who it was, she wasn’t able to hold back her emotions anymore.

Dominique watched as Trinity gasped and looked past her to look at Jon, and that’s when Dominique lost it. Dominique's fist connected with Trinity's jaw before anyone could react. The sound of the impact echoed through the hallway, followed by a collective gasp from the onlookers. Trinity stumbled backward, her hand flying to her face in shock.

“Oh shit!” Josh called out, him and Joe rushing foward to try to stop the fight along with Jon.

“Dominique!” Jon called out, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her away from Trinity before she could land another hit. “Stop.. Chill baby.”

Dominique wrangled her way out of Jon’s grasp and before she could stop herself, she slapped him in his face. “I swear to god... I’m done. Stay the hell away from me!” She hastily wiped away the tears that were now coming down her eyes, she gave him one more heartbroken glance before walking away.

Authors Note: huh... i mean y'all did say Dom was gonna drive Jon into the arms of another woman 😬

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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#wwe #jimmy uso #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x black oc #jimmy uso x you #wwe x black reader #wwe x oc #wwe x black oc #wwe fanfiction #black writer #jimmy uso fic

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faithshouseofchaos · 22 hours ago

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Max' older brother who charles has had a crush on since they first met, where charles figures out that older brother has been holding back in raceing so their dad focuses on him so he doesnt hurt max, and charles is in awe because older brother could have made it into formula 1 a while ago and charles doesnt think hed be able to do something like that if it were him, so charles decides to help male reader as much as he can without being noticed.

I had someone else try and write this to see if theyd been as enthusiastic as you in writing it but no its like they didnt understand the ask @/playinbillie if you want to see what they wrote. Also this was kinda one of the two stories i had for you i didnt actually know the pairing i wanted for this one so i just made it charles, but the other is a oliver x kimi x male reader.

Unspoken sacrifice — Charles Leclerc x male!reader

Word count— 1777

Fluff slightly angsty

The sound of the engines roaring around the track echoed through Charles' chest as he sat in the stands, his gaze fixed on the cars speeding past. But his attention wasn’t on the race; it was on him—Y/N.

Max's older brother. The one who could’ve been great.

For years, Charles had watched from the sidelines as Y/N, despite his obvious talent, kept himself from rising through the ranks of racing. Every time they’d go karting, every practice session, Y/N would leave everyone in the dust—except for Max. The family dynamic was always clear. Their dad, a former racer himself, was invested in Max. Obsessed with Max.

But Y/N? He was always the silent presence in the background, holding back in ways that didn’t make sense to Charles at first. There was something about Y/N’s racing that seemed... off. Too controlled, too careful, like he was playing a different game entirely. Charles hadn’t realized why until recently.

It was after one of the practice races, as he sat next to Y/N on the cool metal bleachers, watching Max celebrate his victory with their dad, that it clicked.

“Y/N, why didn’t you go for the win?” Charles had asked, his brow furrowing.

Y/N gave him that knowing smile, one that always seemed to hide more than it let on. “Because he needs to be the one who shines. Max... he’s the one Dad focuses on. You know that.”

Charles stared at him, confused. “But you— you could’ve taken that first place. You’ve always been better than me, better than Max.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted toward the ground, his voice quiet. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is step back.”

Charles frowned, his mind racing. “But why? Why hold back? You could’ve been in Formula 1 by now. Why give that up?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, the weight of the years they’d spent together suddenly sinking in. “Because, Charles, if I push too hard, Dad would want me to push Max harder, too. And Max isn’t ready for that. He’s not me. I’d rather see him succeed than risk seeing him burn out.”

Charles was stunned. He hadn’t realized how much Y/N had sacrificed—not just his dreams, but his entire future—for the sake of his younger brother. It wasn’t just about racing. It was about family, about love, about keeping Max safe.

And it broke Charles’ heart.

The thought of his older brother never having the chance to race for real, to chase that Formula 1 dream, made him feel a sharp ache in his chest.

"That's... that's really something, Y/N," Charles said quietly, feeling an overwhelming surge of admiration for the older brother he'd never truly understood before.

Y/N shrugged, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s what family does, right? You put them first.”

But Charles wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.

He’d never be able to do what Y/N had done. He would never have the strength to hold back when it mattered, to throw away his own potential for someone else. Y/N had given everything, and Charles had only just realized it.

And now, watching Y/N quietly fade into the background again, Charles made a decision.

“I’m going to help you, Y/N,” Charles said suddenly, surprising even himself. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I won’t let you fade into the background.”

Y/N looked over at him, a surprised yet knowing look crossing his face. “Charles, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” Charles interrupted, his voice firm. “But I want to.”

Y/N gave a small chuckle, ruffling Charles' hair. “You don’t have to do anything for me, kid. You’ve got your own career to focus on.”

Charles didn’t reply, his mind already planning how he could work in the shadows, how he could help his brother rise again without anyone noticing. Without Max ever knowing.

He wouldn’t let Y/N’s sacrifices be in vain.

And maybe, just maybe, they could still achieve the dream Y/N had set aside for so long.

Over the next few weeks, Charles found himself subtly changing the way he approached his time with Y/N. Every practice session, every karting weekend, he was paying more attention—not just to his own racing, but to his older brother’s every move.

It wasn’t hard to see how much Y/N was holding back. He wasn’t just playing it safe; he was actively limiting his own performance, choosing more cautious lines, braking earlier, and settling for second or third place when he easily could’ve taken the win.

It frustrated Charles more than anything. Watching Y/N squandering his potential, doing exactly what he’d done his entire life: taking a step back for the sake of someone else.

And it made Charles feel helpless. He wanted to shout, to demand that Y/N race to his fullest, that he deserved more than the life of a background player. But he couldn’t. He understood now why Y/N was doing it. He’d made that sacrifice for Max—and maybe even for their father. It wasn’t just about being in the spotlight; it was about keeping the family dynamic intact.

But Charles wasn’t going to let it go on forever.

One night, after a particularly difficult race where Y/N had barely edged out Max for a second-place finish, Charles made up his mind. He needed a plan. He needed to help Y/N, even if he had to do it in secret.

"Y/N," Charles said casually as they were cleaning up their gear, the two of them alone in the garage. Max was off with their dad, discussing strategies for his next race. "Have you ever thought about going to some of those off-season testing events? The ones where they bring in reserve drivers, or... younger talents?”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been to a few. A long time ago. But you know as well as I do, they won’t give me the time of day. Not with Max in the picture.”

“I think you’re wrong.” Charles smiled, trying to hide the excitement bubbling up in him. “What if I can get you into one of those events? Just a test run, no pressure. I’ll set it up.”

Y/N gave him a bemused look. “And how exactly are you going to pull that off? You don’t have the connections—"

Charles leaned in closer, his voice low but confident. "I do now."

For the next few weeks, Charles worked quietly behind the scenes, making calls and sending messages to everyone he knew—engineers, team managers, even his own contacts within the F1 world. It wasn’t easy. Y/N wasn’t exactly a household name, and most people were only interested in the young stars, not a 25-year-old with years of untapped potential. But Charles didn’t care about the odds.

He couldn’t let Y/N’s talent slip away, not when he knew what his brother could truly do.

It was a month later when Charles finally received the response he’d been waiting for—a private testing session for a mid-tier team looking to give fresh talent a shot. It wasn’t Formula 1, not yet, but it was a step in the right direction. A foot in the door.

He waited until the perfect moment, when Y/N wasn’t expecting it, and told him about the opportunity.

“Y/N, I got you a test with an F1 team. You’re going to drive at their private session next week.”

Y/N blinked, looking at him as though Charles had just said something absurd. “What?”

“I did. You’re driving for them next week.”

At first, Y/N didn’t believe it. He laughed, like Charles was making a joke at his expense. But the more Charles pushed, the more he explained how hard he’d worked to arrange it, how he’d bent a few rules and called in a few favors, the more Y/N’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to... gratitude.

But even then, Y/N hesitated. "Charles, you know I’m not—"

“You are ready,” Charles cut him off, standing firm. “I know it. I know you could’ve made it into F1 years ago if you’d wanted to. I won’t let you give up on it.”

There was a long silence. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Alright. But you better not tell Max about this. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out.”

Charles grinned. “Deal.”

The week of the test, Y/N’s nerves were palpable, though he tried to hide them. As they stood by the track, Charles watched him suit up, a wave of pride crashing over him. His brother was about to show the world what he could really do—and no one would know who had pushed him there.

Charles knew it wasn’t enough just to get Y/N the test. The hard part was making sure Y/N knew he had someone in his corner. Someone who believed in him—not as the background player or the second-best brother, but as the talented, driven racer he’d always been.

The test went better than Charles could have hoped. Y/N drove like he was born for it. Fast, fearless, and precise, he outpaced every expectation. By the end of the session, the team’s engineers were already talking about bringing him back for more testing.

But Charles didn’t want to get ahead of himself. This wasn’t the finish line. This was just the beginning.

As they packed up to leave, Y/N clapped him on the shoulder, a grateful, somewhat overwhelmed look in his eyes.

“Thanks, Charles,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I’d ever get a shot like this.”

Charles smiled, the weight of the unspoken promise hanging between them. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep driving. I’ll make sure you get there.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Y/N’s performance in the test had caught the attention of several teams, and before long, he was back on the radar. Charles helped when he could, keeping things quiet and making sure that Y/N’s success stayed under the radar. Max never knew what had really happened. And Y/N, though hesitant, slowly began to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could make it to Formula 1 after all.

But it wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about a bond between brothers, one that went beyond the track. A bond that said: I’ve got your back, no matter what.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x you #f1 x y/n #formula one x oc #formula one x y/n #faiths inboxes📥📨#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x male reader

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meracyn · 20 hours ago

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heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

#cobra kai #kwon x reader #kwon jae sung x reader #kwon jae sung #uh..would it count as a bit of smut lmao #kwon jae sung x female reader #kwon jae sung x male reader #ck #kwon jae sung x gn! reader #gotta give the bros some fics too #SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE ALERT #once again #suggestive #oneshot #meracyn #idk how i feel abt this lmao

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davinawritings · 16 hours ago

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hii! not sure if your reqs are open but do you write stuff about piss? maybe werewolf bf marking his territory or a vamp bf doing it for degrading purposes

Hello! I hope you enjoy it! Unsurprisingly I went with a Werewolf boyfriend, lol.

The Claiming

Pairing: Male Werewolf Boyfriend X Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, Creampie, Piss kink, Slight humiliation kink, possessive boyfriend

Enjoy <3

The night had started great with your amazing werewolf boyfriend inviting you to his friend’s party. You and Callum have been dating for just over 6 months now, and everything has been perfect. You got all dolled up for him, hoping for a fun night.

You just finished spraying your perfume when you hear a knock on your door. Callum gives you a wet kiss with promises of a fun night as he guides you to his car. He keeps you on his arm as you enter the party, happy to have his beautiful girl by his side for all to see.

Although he seems perfectly happy, your happiness doesn’t last long when he starts to ignore you to have fun with his buddies. You quickly grow bored of standing beside him and listening to them talk. The music is blaring, and you want to dance. You tug on his muscular arm to get his attention, but he barely spares you a glance.

Trying to be patient, you try again, and he finally looks at you with a raised brow. You give him a slight pout, saying you want to dance, but he just rolls his eyes and says he’s busy. You stare at him momentarily, not used to him flat-out refusing you.

You give a slight nod, more to yourself than him, and decide to make your way to the makeshift dancefloor. Just because he wants to stand around doing nothing doesn’t mean you have to.

As you dance to the music, you sway your hips sensually, running your hands along your body, and your dress leaves little to the imagination. A firm chest is pressed to your back in less than a minute. His hand grips your waist, and you know it’s not your boyfriend from that simple touch alone. You spin in his arms and come face to face with a werewolf. Although attractive, you can’t help but notice that he isn’t quite as attractive as your boyfriend.

You think about moving away from his arms, but then you remember how Callum is ignoring you for his friends and figure you might as well have some fun dancing with this guy. You know Callum won’t be happy, but you can’t seem to find it in you to care right now.

You dance for about thirty seconds before this wolf starts dropping his hands down to your ass. You are about to reach around and push them up, but you don’t get the chance as Callum pulls you away from the other werewolf.

The other man snarls and says, “What the hell. Can’t you see I was in the middle of dancing with her?”.

Your boyfriend growls a low warning: “This is my girl. Don’t ever put your hands on her again.”

The other wolf gives him a smug smirk before saying, “Are you sure she’s your girl? I don’t see a mating bite, and she doesn’t smell like you. She smells sweet, like a juicy fruit ripe for plucking.”

The taunting words push Callum over the edge, and with one brutal hit, he has the other wolf knocked out on the floor. He barely spares him a second glance as he tosses you over his shoulder and drags you to an upstairs bedroom, quickly locking the door behind him.

He tosses you on the bed, and you open your mouth to speak, but he quickly rips your panties off and shoves them in your mouth before you can even get a word out. He makes quick work of both your clothes, having you both naked in seconds.

“See what happens when you act like a little whore. Letting him put his hands on what’s mine. Letting him question my claim on you in front of everyone!”. His voice is harsh, and you know he is about to fuck you into tears, your pussy already preparing itself for his massive cock.

He quickly flips you onto your stomach and smacks your ass. You moan around the panties as he straddles your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to get a clear view of your dripping cunt. Without hesitation, he thrusts into the hilt, and you cry out his name as much as you can with the damp cloth in your mouth. His pace is hard and punishing; you can only grip the sheets.

“Such a fucking little brat. You couldn’t behave for a few fucking hours. This is what you needed, right? To be shown some fucking attention. To be under me and take my cock the way you are meant to. Fu-fuck. Made to take my cock and mine only. You are mine. This body is mine. This Fu-cking pussy is mine,” he growls out.

One of his large hands pushes down on your lower back, keeping you in place, unable to even meet his thrusts. The other holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail, tugging as he fucks into your dripping center.

You moan out as your cunt begins fluttering around his cock, his knot slamming into your swollen pussy lips with each thrust. You whimper and try to move backward against his strength, wanting nothing more for his knot to fill you up.

“I don’t think so, baby. I’m not knotting you here. You��re going to take my cum like a good fucking girl, and then we are going to walk back downstairs and out of this party while my cum drips down your fucking legs. Let everyone here know just who your fucking belong to”.

Callum’s possessive words push you over the edge, your cunt strangling his cock in pleasure and causing him to fill you up. He gives you a few short thrusts as you both calm down, pulling out and admiring the sticky mess between your thighs. He flips you back onto your back and fixes your dress, but leaves the panties in your mouth for now.

You give him your best puppy dog apology eyes, but he just shakes his head before saying, “Fuck baby. I know they will be able to smell my cum inside your pussy, but I’m not sure it’s enough. I can’t have them questioning my claim on my little brat, now can I?”

He kneels over your body and sits on your thighs, his dominant hand grabbing hold of his half-hard cock. You stare up in his eyes as you wait for him to start jerking his cock so he can cover you in more of his cum. He gives you a sly smirk, and you gasp as you begin to feel a hot stream of liquid hitting your stomach.

Your eyes immediately shoot down to his cock, watching as his piss flows from his flushed tip before soaking you beneath him. He aims higher, making sure to soak your tits as well, your dress seemingly eager to soak up the warm liquid. You whimper as he then aims for directly above your pussy, the warm piss quickly pooling and soaking the material before dripping through and adding to the sticky mess between your legs.

You surprise yourself as your clench and rub your thighs together at the sensation, feeling your clit pulse with desire. He gives his cock a shake watching as the last few drops fall onto your squirming body.

“Now I think you are ready to walk downstairs, baby. And don’t worry, as soon as we get you home, I’m going to knot your pussy, and we are going to go over how much my little whore seems to love getting covered in my piss. Don’t think I missed your needy body shifting around trying to get some friction for your slutty little cunt”.

You moan as you stand on shaky legs, Callum’s arm around your waist, the only thing keeping you from falling over and losing balance. He guides you through the house and past everyone else, your cunt clenching as they stare at you covered in his piss and with cum dripping down your legs with each step. Embarrassment heats your cheeks, but you can’t deny the arousal burning through you at their looks, nor the anticipation of what awaits you at home.

As you reach his car, you quickly get in your seat, only now realizing that you never even took your panties out of your mouth, another wave of embarrassment rushing over you and making your pussy clench, more cum dripping out and surely covering his seat. Callum gets in and starts the car, making quick work to get home as fast as possible.

His hand gives your thigh a squeeze, claws digging in lightly as he says, “Just think of how many more new things we can explore, baby. Now that I know my perfect little girl is a kinky whore, we just opened up a new world of fun baby”.

Maybe being a brat tonight was a good idea, after all.

I hope you all enjoyed <3 <3 <3 Let me know what you think!

113 notes · View notes

notreallythatlost · 1 day ago

Text

As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.

this one gives me such disney vibes, now all that's missing are the animals that listen to her singing 🤣🤣

“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.

what an idiot the og halbrand were

Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.

my heaaart oh my god 😭

“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.

okay, that one was kinda hot. okay, it was REALLY hot

“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.

“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.

to be loved, is to be changed 🫶🏽

all he needs is love

What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?

the way i love his thoughts

“It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

OBSESSED

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal.

OH MY GOD!!! DOES THAT MEAN…

“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.

“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.

saying in hermiones voice: what. an. idiot.

“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.

MAYBE SHE REALLY IS

this makes me think about so many things at the same time 😮😮 it would be mind blowing, and a REAL plottwist

or she was just happy to hear him say that 🧐

His wife.

i’m crying this is perfect

“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.

two children?? my heart is full

i love how you said it in the beginning because i’m a sucker for happy endings too. and i love this fic with all my heart, because it was everything about a happy ending.

truly amazing lily, a real masterpiece 🤍🤍

— SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!human(?)!Reader

SUMMARY — Lady Galadriel keeps convincing Halbrand and his wife to change their minds and go back to Middle-earth but Sauron is starting to realise that this new life might be his chance to start all over and redeem himself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — As I warned, in this part Sauron is very ooc but I'm a sucker for happy endings... I couldn't picture it any other way with a mortal Reader tbh... 🤷🏻‍♀️ Although, whether she is really a human or not – I let you decide and interpret it whatever way you wish! 😉💝 The song The Reader sings in this part is called Lonesome Road and I know it from Joan Baez but I changed the lyrics a little so they could fit the fantasy world better.

WORD COUNT — 4,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)

Even though he thought Halbrand's wife had given up on him already, it seemed to be quite otherwise. The guards came to Sauron in the early morning to tell him that he was free to go under a condition to never start any fight on the streets of Númenor ever again. Next time, the Queen Regent would not be so merciful. And now, she would even give him a chance to prove his worth and earn the guild crest.

Apparently, (Y/N) had spent nearly the whole night begging and pleading after getting an audience.

Free to go anywhere he wanted to, he simply decided to walk back to his new home and wait there for Lady Galadriel to show up with the next idea or opportunity.

It was not going according to his plan – (Y/N) had made sure of it. But it was still going well enough and that was what mattered the most.

Slowly and quietly, Sauron walked inside the house and leaned on the wall with crossed arms as he watched (Y/N) with a smirk. She had her back turned on him and had no idea he was there as she busied herself with brushing her hair in front of a small mirror and preparing to go to her new work.

And while doing so, she was singing. Sauron listened with curiosity because he had missed many new songs in the time when he had been regaining his strength to go back to the world of living.

And he had never been familiar with the songs of common people anyway.

“They say all good friends must part sometime. Why not you and I, my Lord? Why not you and I?” (Y/N) sang softly. “Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never been born or died when I was a baby, my Lord… Or died when I was a baby,” she added and Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat.

He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.

“Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never seen your face, heard your lyin' tongue, my Lord… Heard your lyin' tongue,” (Y/N) kept going with the song as she put some rouge upon her cheeks. “You better look up and down that long, lonesome road where all of your friends have gone, my Lord, and you and I must go…” she continued humming and then she jumped up at the sight of him standing behind her with crossed arms. “Oi, Hal, I haven't seen ye. Forgive me, I know ye don't like it when I sing,” she got nervous in an instant.

“I don't?” Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised.

He let her but when she wanted to move away, he grabbed her wrists to keep her in place and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What have you done to free me, love?” He asked in a whisper.

“I begged and pleaded for ye, Hal,” she answered. “Told the good Queen ye're naught but a man who wants to work, with a pride that's hurt. I promised ye wouldn't get in trouble again. An' ye better not.” (Y/N)'s eyes filled with pain as if she knew already he would break the promise.

“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.

“Start, then,” she challenged him with a cracked smile and patted his chest before going out of the house.

And even though Sauron was tempted to stay inside and wait for Lady Galadriel to show up, he walked out as well and went to the forge nearby where he was supposed to start his own training to be able to earn the guild crest.

Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.

When Sauron was coming back from work, it was getting dark already. He was walking slowly down the steps and whistling the very same song he had heard earlier that day – the one Halbrand's wife had been singing.

In his hands he was carrying a few coins he had earned on that day and he was playing with them by tossing them in the air and catching them swiftly right after. As he approached the harbour, he spotted (Y/N) standing by one of the wooden tables and selling the goods to the people standing in the queue.

He wondered why she was left alone by the stand but assumed the woman working with her was having a break. And the closer to the market he was getting, the more he could see how stressed Halbrand's wife seemed to be.

“You useless woman, you can't even count properly, can you?!” Sauron heard some man's harsh words due to the fact his hearing was much better than if he was truly human.

“I-I'm sorry, I'm still learnin'. How much do I owe ye, then?” (Y/N) was trying to sound nice.

“You're good for nothing, stupid wench,” the man spat out. “Where is Bellona?”

“She had to leave earlier today. Please, it is no big deal. Let me just give you back the money and–”

“You should go back to Middle-earth where low women like you belong,” the man interrupted her.

Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.

“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hal!” (Y/N) squealed, looking nervously at the guards that were already coming their way after sensing trouble. “Let go of him, I beg ye! Ye promised me ye wouldn't–”

Sauron let go of his tunic the moment he heard the guards standing behind him and the man hurried away as quickly as possible.

“It's nothin', it's nothin'!” (Y/N) exclaimed at the guards. “I'm closin' for the day! Please, let us go.”

The men looked at each other but since the other man had run away and did not file any complaint, they just shrugged their arms and walked away alongside the rest of the people waiting in the queue.

“Ye promised!” (Y/N) gave Sauron a very scolding look as she busied herself with tidying up the stand and collecting the money.

“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.

“Since when are ye so gifted with words, Hal?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Anyhow, in that cell, ye won't be 'round to protect me. Foolish, it'd be, but ye've never been the brightest, have ye?” she pointed out and Sauron gritted his teeth with an eye roll.

She kept blabbering to him about her day while they walked back to their house and even though it was a short road, it felt like forever due to her talking. However, Sauron was very surprised at the sight of Lady Galadriel sitting by the table when they entered the house.

He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.

“Oi!” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips. “Is it not illegal to sneak up on folk like that inside their own homes, Elf?!” She asked. “When'll ye leave us be, huh?”

“The Queen Regent agreed to gather the army. They will seek for the volunteers,” Galadriel announced. “People of Númenor might not need you, Halbrand, but when we arrive in The Southlands, a strong leader will be needed. Someone to unite and show the way.”

“Someone to lie, ye say,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and finally closed the door behind her. “But go on, Elf, keep talkin'. I'm sure my husband'll agree sooner or later. Vain as he is, always has been,” she sighed as if she was defeated.

Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.

“I have already told the Queen Regent who you most likely are,” Galadriel insisted, ignoring Halbrand's wife and looking deep into his eyes.

“You must be desperate,” he pointed out with a smirk and watched his angry wife unpacking the groceries from her wicker basket on the kitchen counter.

“Of course I am. And you should be, too. It is about your home. Why do you give up on it so easily?” Galadriel wondered out loud.

“It gave up on us long before we ever gave up on it,” (Y/N) turned around to answer her.

“This land was your place in Middle-earth. It was giving you vegetables to eat, grass to feed your animals with, clean water from the rivers…” Lady Galadriel pointed out.

“And what do ye know about it, grand Elf?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. “It ain't easy work growin' yer vegetables an' keepin' yer animals alive. One bad winter's all it takes to take away yer loved ones, yer cows, horses, an' chickens. I've no love for that land,” she stated, harshly.

“You can change the fate of people who suffer like you have suffered…” Galadriel's voice softened. “As their Queen,” she tempted and Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised to see how dirty she could play.

Nearly as dirty as him.

“Me? A Queen?” (Y/N) laughed at that. “I can't even read!” She only said and turned around again to deal with the groceries.

“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.

Long silence occurred between Sauron and Halbrand's wife.

“Go with her,” (Y/N) muttered.

“What?” Sauron looked at her, surprised. She turned around to lay her wet eyes on him.

“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”

“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.

He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

Sauron was laying awake all night long as usual, caressing the back of Halbrand's wife and staring at the ceiling. He knew they would gather the volunteers on the next day and he still was not sure what to do.

The path he had chosen for himself was not so certain anymore. He truly did not mind the life he had here in Númenor and even (Y/N)'s presence was becoming less and less annoying to him. In fact – even though she had no idea who he truly was – it felt oddly nice to be loved and taken care of. As simple as that.

He extended his hand to the nightstand and brushed the pendant laying there with his fingertips as he remembered the very first conversation he had had with the heraldry's original owner – Diarmid.

“A sure path may crumble, but there's always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there's a place across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.”

(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.

“Is it time to wake up now, love?” She mumbled out, sleepily.

“No, love, not yet. I will tell you when,” he assured her.

“Good,” she smiled and nuzzled her face deeper into him.

“(Y/N)?” Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat as he fidgeted with the pendant between his fingers.

“Hm?”

“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.

“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.

As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what.

He wondered why she was so drawn to him, even after (Y/N)'s big mouth had made it clear that he was not any forgotten king. Could Galadriel feel who he was, deep inside?

But who was he? He was not sure anymore.

So, he looked away and went back on the road that would lead him to the forge where he worked these days. He was told he would get his guild crest very soon because they were in awe of his extraordinary talents.

Not only talent was his quality, though. It was also how much he was able to work at once and without breaks. At least it had been this way until recently.

It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?

“Halbrand!” (Y/N)'s worried tone brought him back to reality when he entered the house.

She hurried to him and cupped his cheeks with widened eyes.

“Love, ye're so pale, an' the bags under yer eyes… What happened?!”

“Nothing happened,” Sauron shrugged his arms. “I'm just tired, that's it. I nearly fainted,” he admitted and sat down on the chair, sighing out of relief to finally be able to rest a little.

“Well, that's no wonder! Ye've been eatin' half meals for weeks now!” Halbrand's wife pointed out in a scolding manner. “We're not starvin' anymore, Hal, ye don't have to keep givin' me yer portions!” She exclaimed and approached the stove to pour him a bowl full of soup. “Here, eat,” she ordered as she placed it in front of him.

And, for some reason, Sauron ate all of it in a blink of an eye. He even asked for one more portion as Halbrand's wife gave it to him gladly but not without more of her whining about him being irresponsible. Then he asked for another and after three bowls of her soup, he finally felt better.

His stomach was no longer hurting at least, but he was still sleepy.

“Go, take some rest, love,” (Y/N) shook her head. “Ye don't sleep enough, don't eat enough. At least ye're not drinkin' and gamblin' anymore, but ye can't go on like this. Do ye want to die before forty, Hal? I ain't lettin' that happen!” She continued with her usual whining and he rolled his eyes.

“How can I rest when you keep your mouth open?!” Sauron asked and she huffed but she went silent and left him alone in the bedroom as she went back to the kitchen to clean the bowl after his soup.

It was the very first time when Sauron fell asleep not out of boredom or the need of dissociation but out of exhaustion.

And when he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning already and (Y/N) was shaking him to wake him up.

“Halbrand! Ye're gonna be late for work!” She exclaimed.

“But… I'm still tired…” He mumbled out, not understanding what was happening to him.

“Like all of us working folk each mornin'!” (Y/N) laughed. “Come on, I'm not lettin' ye out without breakfast, go to the kitchen,” she hurried him and he rubbed his eyes before nodding at her.

Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.

(Y/N) was grinning widely on that day when he came back home and she welcomed him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him all over his face as he tried to give back some of the kisses. When she finally stopped, she fixed his brand new guild crest and batted her eyelashes while looking up to stare into his eyes.

“What is it?” He asked.

“That is… Impossible,” he furrowed his brows.

“I used to think so, too. Married for so long with no babe of our own but I was wishin' and hopin' and here we are!” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Perhaps it was that damned Middle-earth not being good for us, Hal, but here we can!”

Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.

Unless…

“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.

(Y/N) froze at his words and her smile turned into a frown. She approached him at this very moment and slapped his face. Hard. He could feel it like any mortal would now and he admitted it truly hurt.

“How dare ye, Halbrand?! Ye wretched bastard! Even if ye meant to jest, that was uncalled for!” She raised her voice as he rubbed his cheek and winced out of pain.

“I'm sorry, love, I haven't thought before speaking. I just can't believe it…” He tried to excuse himself. “Please, forgive me.”

Her face didn't look so angry anymore but she didn't say anything and turned around without a word to walk away.

In fact, she didn't say a word to him for the rest of the day and only at night when she was deep asleep, he dared to touch her abdomen slightly with his hand.

He wasn't able to feel any presence there but these days he couldn't feel anything, to be honest. He couldn't hear nor see as much either. He was losing his abilities as time was passing.

Sauron kept his hand there, on the belly of Halbrand's wife, and he sighed. It was happening, whether he liked it or not. And he was not even sure anymore if he wanted it or not.

As he got lost in the train of thought, he realised that he had been caressing (Y/N) abdomen all that time without thinking. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled gently at him.

“Hal, ye son of a bitch,” she shook her head and giggled as she took his hand carefully and brought it to her lips to place a few small and sweet kisses upon his knuckles. “I swear, ye're gonna be the death of me.”

“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.

She was going to be. Literally.

This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.

When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.

“Go back to sleep, ye madman,” she patted his chest lightly and turned around while laughing softly.

He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.

His wife.

Halbrand was coming back from work slowly while playing with the little horse forged out of iron in his hand as he hummed a song. The sun was setting slowly on the horizon when he approached the harbour where (Y/N) was slowly tidying up her stand on the market.

Her own one, that she had earned finally and was so proud of it as she was working for herself now and was able to bring more money home.

He watched her tidy up with a loving smile and their son was helping her while talking to her excitedly about something – his mouth would never close just like his mother's.

“Daddy!” He spotted him finally and ran up to him as (Y/N) chuckled.

“Hey, little man,” Halbrand crouched down to give his son a hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” The boy nodded. “I helped mummy a bit. And yours, daddy?”

“I made this for you,” Halbrand handed him the little horse and the boys' eyes sparkled at the sight.

“So pretty! Thank you, daddy!” He wrapped his little arms around Halbrand's neck to give him another hug and Halbrand patted his back.

“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.

He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.

“Thank you, daddy!” She giggled as she squinted her eyes at the shell and kept examining it under every possible angle.

“You spoil 'em way too much!” (Y/N) stood above him and he stood up to greet her with a short peck on the cheek.

“Somebody has to,” Halbrand answered playfully and his wife shot him a glance, which made his son giggle.

“Stop sayin' nonsense and let's go back home,” she shook her head and walked away slowly.

He watched his children follow her happily and he did, too, but much slower as he stared at the sun setting on the horizon. The sky looked like a canva full of pink and orange hues and he took a deep breath in at the beauty of it.

It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.

And perhaps this whole life was built on a lie because he couldn't imagine telling (Y/N) the truth about who he truly was and that her real husband had been dead for years. That he had died because of gambling and drinking after leaving her alone when she was being attacked by the Orcs. There was no point in telling her even if she would somehow believe him. It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.

“Ye comin', Hal?” His wife's voice brought him back to reality.

Halbrand nodded at her and joined her side to take his daughter by her little hand.

After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.

MASTERLIST

#he really has found his someplace better #i love it so much #he deserves it #fic rec #halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power

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biblical-chronicles · 2 days ago

Text

Addressing the unspoken

________________________________________________________

where Noel can't stand the sight of the reader chatting with Damon Albarn and finally decides to address the unspoken connection he has had with her for the longest time now.

________________________________________________________

The studio was alive with energy, every corner humming with the chaos that came from trying to make another Oasis album. You had been brought on to help streamline the process—part assistant, part coordinator, part mediator when things got heated (and they always got heated). At first, you thought you’d be blending into the background, but it turned out working with the Gallaghers often meant being at the center of the storm.

Though somehow, you’d managed to carve out a strange kind of harmony with them. Liam was easy to handle once you knew when to give him space and when to challenge him, while the rest of the band respected you for keeping things moving without losing your cool. And Noel?

Noel was different.

He was sharp, sometimes prickly, but you’d figured out how to sidestep his walls. Over late nights in the studio, you’d become something like confidants, sharing quiet conversations about life, music, and everything in between. He’d ask your opinion on lyrics, and while he’d never outright say it, you could tell your feedback mattered to him.

You weren’t blind to the fact that there was something unspoken between you two. The way his gaze lingered a second too long when you laughed, or the rare times he’d catch your hand when passing you something—like he forgot to let go. Even the rest of the band had noticed, with Liam taking every opportunity to wind Noel up about it.

“Oh, here she is, Noel’s muse,” Liam had said one night, waggling his eyebrows as you entered the studio.

“Shut your gob, Liam,” Noel shot back, his ears visibly reddening.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m just sayin’—she’s got you writing love songs, hasn’t she?”

“Do one,” Noel muttered, glaring at his brother, but you swore you saw a flicker of a smile before he turned back to his guitar.

You didn’t take Liam’s jabs seriously—after all, he teased everyone. But sometimes you caught Noel watching you in a way that made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth in it.

When word came about the upcoming awards show, it felt like a collective sigh of relief rippled through the band and the crew. A night off, a chance to celebrate, and a rare break from all the work—it was just what everyone needed. You didn’t think much of the invite at first, figuring it was more for the band and their inner circle. But the boys wouldn’t hear of you sitting it out.

“Don’t be daft,” Liam had said, lounging on the studio couch with a cigarette dangling from his fingers. “We need someone there who doesn’t look like they’re gonna lamp someone after two pints. Bit of balance, y’know?”

“He’s not wrong,” Bonehead had chimed in with a grin. “You’re the only one who keeps this lot in line.”

You’d glanced over at Noel, expecting some kind of teasing remark, but he’d just given you a small, almost imperceptible nod. That subtle encouragement was all you needed to say yes.

By the time the night of the awards show arrived, the band seemed in good spirits, the tension of the studio replaced by a shared sense of excitement. You’d been seated at their table, tucked between Bonehead and Noel, and although the glitz and noise of the event made you a bit nervous, the familiar banter of the boys quickly put you at ease.

“You alright, love?” Noel asked as the show went on, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “It’s just a bit stuffy in here. Think I’m gonna step out for some air.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offered immediately, his chair scraping as he started to stand.

“No, it’s alright,” you said quickly, touching his arm. “You should stay—it’s a big night for you lot. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Noel hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face as if he wasn’t quite convinced. But eventually, he nodded, sitting back down. “Don’t go getting lost, yeah?”

You laughed. “I’ll try my best.”

As you weaved through the crowded tables, you caught sight of Blur’s table out of the corner of your eye. Damon and the rest of the band were deep in conversation, but when they noticed you passing by, a ripple of laughter erupted from their group. You glanced over just in time to see Damon being nudged by one of his bandmates, their grins unmistakable.

Frowning slightly, you shook it off and focused on finding the exit. The air outside the main room was cooler, you took a deep breath, leaning against a wall as you tried to collect yourself. Award shows weren’t really your scene, and the overwhelming energy inside had been starting to get to you.

Just as you were about to head back, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bit loud in there, isn’t it?”

You turned to see Damon Albarn standing a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He looked almost sheepish, which was a far cry from the confident image he usually projected.

“Yeah,” you said cautiously. “Needed a breather.”

“Same,” he said, stepping closer. “Thought I’d escape before someone shoved a mic in my face.”

You nodded politely, not quite sure where this was going. Damon was friendly enough, but you weren’t exactly keen on striking up a long conversation.

“Anyway,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “I’ve seen you around with Oasis, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, I work with them,” you said simply. “Helping out with the new album.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Damon said with a wry smile. “Especially with those two.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the main room, clearly referring to Noel and Liam.

You chuckled despite yourself. “It’s... entertaining, to say the least.”

He laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “Well, if you ever fancy a change of scenery, you’re welcome to pop over to our camp. Might be less shouting, at least.”

It took you a second to realize he was flirting. You blinked, caught off guard, and tried to formulate a response that wouldn’t come off as rude. “That’s, uh, kind of you to say.”

Unbeknownst to you, Noel had been watching from the moment you left the table. He’d tried to focus on the show, but when he saw Damon stand and follow you out, his stomach twisted.

“Oi, where you off to?” Liam asked as Noel stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket.

“None of your business,” Noel muttered.

“Oh, it’s business, alright,” Liam said, grinning. “What’s the matter, can’t leave your missus alone for five minutes?”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, ignoring the hoots of laughter from the table as he headed toward the exit.

Noel found you just as Damon was inching a little closer, his tone becoming more confident as he spoke.

“So, what do you say? Think you could handle working with someone a bit... softer?” Damon asked, his smile shifting into something sly.

Noel’s fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, he thought about walking away, convinced he’d already lost his chance. But then he caught the look on your face—not too interested, just polite—and he knew he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Oi, Albarn,” Noel said sharply, stepping into the space. “Think you’re in the wrong place, mate.”

Damon turned, his expression slipping into something more guarded. “Noel. Didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now,” Noel said, his voice cold. “And I reckon she’s got better things to be doing than listening to your bollocks.”

“Noel,” you started, surprised by his sudden appearance. But before you could say anything else, he turned to you, his tone softening.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Damon, who raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, stepping back.

Once Damon walked away, you turned back to Noel, crossing your arms as you tried to make sense of his sudden appearance. His jaw was tense, and there was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of frustration and vulnerability that you weren’t used to seeing.

“What’s all this about, Noel?” you asked, your voice calm but edged with curiosity.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “What do you think I’m doin’? I came out ‘cause… ‘cause I saw him follow you out, and I thought, ‘That can’t be good.’”

You frowned. “Damon was just making conversation. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Noel huffed, avoiding your gaze. “Looked like more than conversation to me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you said, shaking your head. “Is it jealousy that I'm sensing here Gallagher?”

His head snapped up, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to deny it. But then he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he muttered, “Maybe it is.”

The admission surprised you, Noel Gallagher, jealous? It didn’t quite compute—not the Noel you knew, who always seemed so self-assured, so untouchable. You stared at him, searching for the right words, but he beat you to it.

“Look,” he said, his voice low and hurried, “I know I’m actin’ like a right knobhead, alright? But I couldn’t just sit there and watch him… I dunno… try his luck with you.”

You softened at the crack in his voice. “Noel—”

“And before you say it,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “I know I’ve got no right to get a cob on as I never said owt, so if you’re not interested, that’s fine. Just say the word, and I’ll drop it.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability. Noel had always been guarded, careful not to let anyone see too far beneath the surface. But here he was, laying it all out, and for once, he looked almost… nervous.

“Not interested?” you repeated, your lips twitching into a small smile. “Are you really that daft?”

He froze, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you said, stepping closer, “that I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months, Noel. And I was starting to think I’d imagined the whole thing.”

His brows furrowed as he processed your words, but then his expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re serious?”

“Course I am,” you said, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “Why d’you think I was so polite to Damon? Didn’t want to cause a scene when all I could think about was you.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was charged, and you could feel your pulse racing as Noel’s gaze flickered to your lips.

“Well, then,” he murmured, stepping closer, “guess I’d better stop muckin’ about.”

And with that, he kissed you.

It was everything you’d imagined and more—soft at first, but it quickly deepened as he slid a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips were warm and insistent, and you melted into him, feeling as if the rest of the world had faded away.

When you finally broke apart, you were both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours with a quiet chuckle.

“Can’t believe I waited this long,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with amusement.

“Neither can I,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “But you made up for it.”

“Good,” he said, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. “’Cause I’m not lettin’ you off the hook now.”

You grinned, your heart soaring as he laced his fingers with yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When the two of you returned to the Oasis table, still holding hands, the reaction was immediate. Liam was the first to notice, his eyes widening before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he said, nudging Bonehead. “Would you look at that? Noel’s gone and pulled. About time, too.”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“You’re smilin’, mate,” Liam teased. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. Must be love.”

The rest of the table joined in, their laughter filling the air as Noel tried to maintain his composure, but then Liam leaned closer, a wicked grin on his face.

“You might wanna sort that, though,” he said, gesturing to Noel’s face.

“What are you on about?” Noel asked, frowning.

“Lipstick,” Liam said simply, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Big, red, obvious.”

Noel groaned, scrubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. You couldn’t help but join in, your cheeks flushing as Noel shot you a playful glare.

“Next time,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m wearin’ a bloody disguise.”

You leaned closer, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I think it suits you.”

His expression softened, and he gave you a look that made your heart flutter all over again.

As the awards show finally got underway, you settled back into your seat, your hand still intertwined with Noel’s under the table. The teasing had died down, and the band’s attention shifted to the stage as the first category was announced.

But every so often, Noel would glance your way, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you’d catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. For the first time that night, the stuffiness of the room didn’t bother you at all.

__________________________________________________________

another day another story

This was another request, so I hope it was at least close to what you imagined love xx I sort of twisted it and made the reader part of the crew since it felt weird to write her as a member of the band itself, so hopefully that's okay.

as always let me know how you lot liked it x

** also working on summat with Liam as me focus has been Noel for now (can you blame me), so let me know if you like how I wrote him here.

#gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #oasis band #oasis x reader #noel gallagher x f!reader #noel gallagher x you #oasis one shots #gallagher #noel gallagher one shots #liam gallagher

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 hours ago

Text

Just One Reason: Charity Case

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stand in the changing room, staring at the mirror, at yourself. Peppermint cloys on your tongue as you consider the dainty blue sweater. It isn’t your pick. Few of the clothing are. You can barely differentiate between the weaves and colours.

“Well?” Lloyd calls from the other side of the thin barrier between you.

You rarely used dressing rooms. You shop at the thrift shop, find whatever looks like it will fit, and go. Not that you even do that often. You’ve been wearing the same wardrobe of used pieces for years.

You shift and touch the little frill along the collar. It frames your neckline prettily but it’s just too much. A nice strong cableknit with sleeves you can tuck your hands into and some corduroys are much more practical.

“Come on, toots, I’m dying. You find anything you like?” He urges.

You face the door and slide back the lock. You step out. The walls are lined with mirrors. Behind him, behind you, beside you, everywhere. You pinch the frilly hem as you bite your lip.

“I don’t know...” you drawl.

“Wowza, that’s cute,” he smiles from the bench. His hands are full as he holds both your lattes over his lap. “I like the colour. Be nice with a skirt.”

“Skirt?” You mutter, “I don’t really...”

“I grabbed a few, why don’t you try one on?” He prompts.

You hesitate then shrug. You turn back and see yourself reflect on the door. You only notice then that the light weave clings to the outline of your bra. You quickly hide inside and shuffle through the many hangers.

You don’t realise how short the skirt is until you get it on. The lace lining sticks out the bottom and four little bows decorate the cream material. It’s sophisticated in a way you aren’t. You sift through and find a top you think matches.

You steel yourself before you emerge again. Lloyd’s impatience seeps through with a clearing of his throat. You step out and clutch your hands behind you, staring past him.

“Wow,” he breathes, “that’s nice, tootsie, we’re definitely getting that.”

“Oh, I don’t know about the white,” you sway, “it’ll get stained.”

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying it but don’t be so pessimistic,” he chortles.

“Sure, you’re right,” you agree quietly. “Well, still lots to go through.”

You shuffle back into the change room, shivering at the rush of air that floods beneath the short hem of the skirt. You continue the tedious task of going through each and every piece. You can’t focus on any of it. You’re indifferent to even the nicest garment, things that you may have coveted in a clearer state of mind.

Lloyd carries your haul to the counter after handing off the cups. His is empty and yours is cold. You put his in the bin near the desk as he pays. You look down, embarrassed.

“Lloyd, you don’t--”

“Sweetie, Merry Christmas,” he interrupts and smirks at the front desk lady. “Careful with that, don’t wrinkle it.”

He might be nice to you but there’s those moments where he’s so... demanding. You wish he’d be a bit kinder to the people doing things for him. You offer the associate a sheepish smile then hide behind the cup. You taste the cold espresso and hover.

Lloyd gathers up the bags and leads you back into the crowded mall. You drain half the cup and give up. You subtly toss it as you pass one of the many waste bins.

“Well, you still need some basics,” he declares and glances at you, nudging you with his elbow, “you know, under-roos.”

“Oh, uh, yeah...”

“There’s a Victoria’s Secret right there.”

“Victoria--” you gulp. “That’s fine, er, no, there’s probably somewhere else.”

“Hello,” a woman calls as Lloyd struts towards the marquee of the lingerie store. “We’re having a promotion. You can spin the wheel and get a coupon.”

You cringe and hide behind him. He spins and gets a coupon for thirty percent off. The woman is tall and her dark red hair is perfectly waved. She’s all in black that clings to her figure prettily.

“Come on, tootsie roll,” Lloyd ushers you inside. The boutique is far too nice for you.

You keep your arms crossed as Lloyd browses. He is unfazed by the crotchless lace and the sleek satin. You get to a table strewn with cotton thongs and thick-banded boyshorts.

“You get the pick of the litter,” he declares, “you need a bra? Maybe six?”

“Lloyd,” you murmur, “I don’t know...”

“What’s your size?” He peeks at your chest then his brows pop up and he chuckles. “Sorry, just trying to help.”

“Um, I wear... sport bras, so...”

“Hmm, let me find...” He turns and strides off before he can finish his thought.

You frown and look down. You see a nice pair of coral panties but when you turn them over, you find the have a narrow back. You just want your Walmart high-rise. You sniff and step out of the way of some other shoppers.

“There she is,” Lloyd appears out of the crush, “Toots, this is Lara, she’s going to get you fitted.”

“Fitted?” You utter.

“Yeah, she can help measure you for your bra size--”

“That’s okay--”

“It’s five minutes,” Lara insists, “in the back.”

“We want to get you something nice,” Lloyd argues, “don’t we? Get bang for our buck.”

You don’t have it in you to resists. It’s nice. You’ve never bothered with anything like that. Everything you have just does the job. It doesn’t matter if it really fits, just if you can get it on. And everything you have is gone. You suspect his present is more charity than holiday cheer.

Embarrassed, you nod and try to force a smile. Lara waves you toward the dressing room and Lloyd turns to peruse the table of panties. You cringe and drag your feet across the store.

As you’re shut in with Lara, she has you take off your shirt. You’re uncomfortable as she measures you through your sport bra. It’s almost like a medical exam.

“He’s really nice,” she says.

“Hm?” You sniff.

“Your boyfriend. Gonna be a really happy holiday,” she chimes.

“Oh, he’s not...” you drone but don’t finish.

“Husband?” She wonders.

You shrug. You don’t bother explaining. You just want to get out of this place. All these strangers are making you dizzy.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #just one reason #the gray man

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

Text

A Thief and An X-Man

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,738

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Southern charm is a thing. Something that Remy LeBeau has taken advantage of over the years. All it took was one little X-Man to throw him off his rhythm apparently…

How everyone found themselves in their own current predicament, only the universe knows. The tomfoolery that had followed them during their journey was like something straight out of a superhero book.

Remy panted and hugged his side as he rested against the brick wall behind him. His partner in crime, albeit a reluctant one, mirrored his actions against the other wall of the alleyway. She was glaring hard in between her pants in an attempt to catch her breath.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you Cajun?” There were shouts and the pounding of footsteps getting closer and closer.

“What can I say, chere? I like pretty things.” The weight of the jewels in his pocket weighed down under her gaze.

“We’re being chased because you couldn’t keep your greedy little hands off of stuff that doesn’t belong to you!” Her words were almost drowned completely out by the pounding of footsteps.

Making a split second decision, Remy grabbed her hand and began to haul the woman towards a fire escape that was already pulled down. She was confused, but faced with the possibility of the men that were chasing them catching up? She would take the fire escape with the thief. As soon as they had made it up onto the roof of whatever building this was, Remy leaned over the edge to get a look at their personal mob that now ran by the building and alleyway they had disappeared into. With a smirk, he laid down on the cool tiles below.

“We safe now,” she questioned, almost ready to run again.

“I wouldn’t be layin’ down if we weren’t. Now would I, chere?” His eyes slipped closed as he relaxed as much as he could.

“Oh, of course. Because I should be trusting the person who got us into this mess, to be honest and truthful when he is a known Thief, to get us out of this mess. Wolverine needs to come and extract me right now.” Her grumbling was followed by the sound of her trying to use her transponder. With a frustrated groan, it clattered to the ground when it would not work.

For three days, she had been stuck in Louisiana with the leader of the Thieves Guild. A mission that she had been sent on alone to help the X-Men get a relic that needed to be kept out of the wrong hands. Had they been able to do it solo, they would have. But the Thieves were the only people who had made it to where they needed her to go, and made it back out. Thus, an unlikely alliance was made. And from that point forward, she had been subjected to the rugged charms of the one they call Gambit.

From the second she walked up to him, she had been the focus of his flirtations. Maybe it was the fact that she was a new pretty face for him. Or maybe it was that fact that she was “forbidden fruit” being an X-Man. Whatever it was, for the past three weeks, she had been subject to every one liner and flirty comment.

In all honesty, she did not mind the banter that they usually had. It was better than being with someone that did not talk much, like a certain X-Man she knew. But it was annoying once he got into a flirtatious mood.

“Ooo, chere. Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven? You look so angelic.”

“Shut up, Cajun.”

“Here, let Gambit take care o’ dat for ya. Ain’t no reason to sweat your pretty brow.”

“If Gambit don’t give me back my tools, I’m not gonna sweat my brow over putting him down.”

It was like this for three days. Any chance he got, he took. She could see that he was just doing it to get a rise out of her, since she refused to be another notch on his belt. Even though some times, she could almost swear there was something genuine about the affectionate quips he made. A sharp bark pulled her from her thoughts and brought her attention to the transponder that was still down by her feet. Careful not to step on it, she opened it to be met with the authoritative voice of a certain Canadian calling her name.

“Where have you been? You were supposed to check in an hour ago, bub.” He was upset, that was for sure. But after all these years, she could hear through the layers to his tone and knew it was just because he cared for his team like his own family.

“Wolverine, I’m fine. We ran into a snag but we should be getting back on track soon. The communicator wouldn’t work earlier or I would have checked in at the appropriate time,” came her retort. A groan trailed into a sigh on the other end of the line.

“Just be safe, kid. Let me know when you get the relic. We’ll be waiting to extract you when you need it.” His voice lowered in volume, and his tone shifted.

“Will do, Wolvie. Just gotta get this Cajun to actually get me to the place, then we’ll be on our way home.” With that, the two X-Men signed off from each other. She sat there for a moment longer as she began to rub her temples. The evening breeze was welcome against her flushed face.

“So you and da Wolverine, huh?” Gambit’s sudden ask brought her out of her head quick.

“What? Me and him? No, god no. We just work well together. He’s the one that got me into the school. Got me into the X-Men,” she stood, and looked around the night sky that was sprinkled with lights. “You gonna take me where I need to go, or do I need to find another thief to do it?”

“Oh, you wound me, chere. Suppose if ya did that, I could call another X-Man to grab the item with me instead.” He teased, finally rising to his feet.

With fluid movements, like that of a skilled ballet dancer, Remy looked towards the streets again. The mutant dubbed them safe enough, and began his descent down the same fire escape that he had them go up on. She followed after him, always maintaining a bit of distance between them as they went closer and closer to where they needed to go.

A well lit mansion greeted the two mutants after a while. This was the house that she had been searching for. She was finally here. Once again, she followed Gambit’s lead. After all, he and his guild made it out of here before with their pockets loaded. They could do it one more time.

Gambit caused a minor explosion on one of the windows in the back of the building making her flinch as she expected the commotion to begin. And yet, there was nothing. No alarms, no dogs barking or humans shouting. He turned back to the stunned woman with nothing short of a pompous smirk on, before he climbed through the window. She took his hand to help stabilize her while she was slipping through the opening.

They had ended up in the west wing of the mansion, only a few doors down from the room that they needed to go to. She had no time to be stunned at how efficient this mutant was seeing as he was already grabbing her hand to pull her through the house. Their journey was cut short when they spotted guards walking towards them in the hallway. Remy tucked them both against a wall that was out of sight, but knew they did not have long. Scanning around, he did not see a spare room or broom closet. He tried not to show the panic on his face, but he could feel his heart speeding up.

“They not supposed to be here, chere. We gotta go back out.” But when he tried to leave, the sounds of quiet conversation and boots on the hardwood floor were far too close now.

“Go with me,” was all the warning that the Cajun was given. In an instant, she made him press her against the wall. What he did not expect even more than that, was the fact that she had him engaged in a full lip lock. Stunned did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. Here this woman was, kissing him voluntarily, after spending the last three days shutting him down at every chance.

Losing himself in the moment that he wished would never end, Remy kept one of his hands on the wall near her head, while the other went to the dip of her waist. Her hands came up and pressed him even closer by the nape of his neck. This was a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream that he did not want to wake from. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for him. Right as he was truly enjoying the moment, a wolf whistle caught his attention. But she did not let him turn around. Instead, she pressed his face into her neck while she shouted at the guards that had finally rounded the corner.

“Cad é? Cad atá tú ag féachaint air?” Now that was a language Remy had never heard spoken. His confused face was stuck in the crook of her neck, while he felt her shooing the men away. Apparently, they were just as confused as he was, but left without complaint. As soon as they were away from the par of mutants, she pushed Remy back a bit.

“Now, where in da world is dat language from, chere? Gambit ain’t never heard nothin’ like it in his whole life.” He was a bit out of breath but it was understandable.

“I used to go visit my grandmother in Ireland when I was a kid. She made me fluent in Gaelic.” She was just as out of breath as him, but neither called attention as to the reason why.

They both sat there for a moment, not moving from their spots where they were oh so close to one another. This was the closest they had been physically the entire time they had been working together. And it was breaking down barriers that had been put in place for their own sanity and safety.

“Let’s get going before someone else catches us and we can’t get out of it as easily,” she stated breathily. For her own sake, she needed to do something, and soon before she could not stop herself. Remy nodded to himself, to confirm that he had heard her or to shake himself out of his own stupor, who knows. But soon, they were back on track with him grabbing her hand and leading them to the room once more.

Gambit made quick work of picking the lock, and then they were inside. Encased in glass was a small pendant and necklace. Unassuming at first, but they knew better. This one little artifact was responsible for so much suffering around the world, and more of it if they did not get it out of non-mutant hands. Remy approached the glass case and looked for a way to get it open without disturbing it too much. But the sound of glass shattering spooked him, made him jump back from the shards.

“You were taking too long.” She shrugged, turning back to look at the pendant. Pulling out her own case for the necklace, she tried very hard not to touch the jewel in the center. Once it was secured, Remy did another look out to make sure that the coast was clear.

“Let’s get going, chere. Don’t want no unwelcome guests taggin’ along now.” The two mutants slipped out the same way that they entered. It was such a shock for her, not having any hangups during a mission. Usually it was every chance the universe got to make something go wrong, it did. So to have one go this smoothly was a welcomed change of pace.

They fled into the night before them, and did not look back until they were safe in the heart of New Orleans once more. Lights, music, and conversation drowned out any and all thoughts they had for just a minute or two. Instead of going somewhere quiet and out of the way, Gambit ended up leading them further not the heart of the city to a late night cafe.

As soon as they sat down, he ordered something for them both to eat and drink, but she was not paying any attention to him. Instead, she was trying to figure out how she was going to discreetly call her team back at the mansion to go home. For some reason though, it was not working right now.

“This thing has been finicky the entire time I’ve been here. Doesn’t know whether or not it wants to work when I need it to.” She lamented, tossing the item down onto the table before them.

“So, now that you got whatcha came here for, just gonna head home? Like that?” There was a mournful tone to his voice that did not miss her ears. Neither one needed to say exactly why he sounded so upset at her leaving, or rather neither wanted to acknowledge why he was upset.

“Well, there’s always someone else that needs saving. Or a disaster that needs to be avoided,” she said, watching his face carefully.

“Right, right…” he trailed off, not quite knowing where to take it from here. Thankfully, a waitress came by with two bowls, and two drinks for them to enjoy.

“What on earth did you order for me?” Poking her spoon around in the stew like dish in front of her, she arched an eyebrow and looked at the Cajun.

“Dat right der is what we call gumbo, chere. It’s real good. Gotta use dat piece o’ baguette at the end though.” When she still did not eat, he tried a different tactic. “Come on. Humor me before ya head on home, chere?”

If you ever asked her, she would vehemently deny that she had given in to the soft way he pleaded with her. Bringing the spoonful of hot stew and rice to her lips, a symphony of flavors erupted on her tongue. It was unlike anything she had ever eaten. The chicken, sausage and shrimp were so tender and perfectly cooked. The veggies melted, and the rice was the perfect binder.

While she was busy devouring her food, Remy was taking that time to lock in on her joyful face. If this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to make it count. But his day dreaming was interrupted by the transponder on the table suddenly jumping to life. As fast as she could, she set down her spoon, wiped her face, and grabbed the item.

“Wolverine,” she began, “listen, I got the necklace. Ready when you are on the extraction.”

Her eyes drifted over to the man in front of her who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation happening two feet away from him. The long she listened to Wolverine talk, and watched Remy’s face, the more her heart moaned in pain. It was an unusual feeling to have, especially for someone that she swore she did not get along with or that she had not known for too long.

“Kid, we’ll be there in a couple hours, okay? We’re gonna track you by your communicator and then we’ll-”

“Actually, Wolvie,” she cut the man off, “I think I’m gonna stick around New Orleans for a few days. Just to make sure that nobody comes looking for this thing. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come home.”

The transponder was shut off fast, and tucked into one of the pockets of her uniform. When she looked up again, the startled face of Gambit greeted her. His eyes were wider than the bowls they were eating out of, but she paid it no mind. Picking up her spoon again, she sent a teasing smirk across the table.

“Hope you don’t mind that I’ll be sticking around a little more.” She brought another spoonful of gumbo to her mouth while Gambit took a minute to recover.

“Not at all, chere. Not at all.”

#rebelliousstories #writing #wolverine and the x men #watxm #watxm gambit #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit imagine #gambit #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men movies #x men imagine #x men #deadpool and wolverine

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cryptid-killjoy · 2 days ago

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The longer this went on the more alive Arthur felt. It was thrill. It was arousal. He was boner bulging hard and he was a guy who couldn't always get it up due to meds and medical issues in life. So, this only went to show exactly how horn-dog arousing this was for him. It was fear. He was terrified of being caught where he shouldn't be, but too scared to move either. He didn't want to move. Everything in him wanted to hear more. See more. All while there was an urge to run and he'd lost his damn leg.

Delta got louder as Frank upped the stakes flittering her clit keeping her on the edge. She asked to be taken out of her mind and words started to hold no meaning to her. Only Frank. Frrr. Frrr. Frrr's started to roll off her tongue. Garbled sounds. Arthur hadn't heard a girl react like that in real life, not to him.

The temptation was getting the better of him. He put a shaky hand on the floor to balance as he stretched his neck to see around the corner. Frank had a way of making him feel inadequate in one glance.

It was hard in a moment like that not to think of the time before Frank when he thought he had a chance with Delta, back when he used to try to get her to notice him. It was even harder to not compare the time he'd spent or even time with his own girlfriend. THAT was not how he'd ever gotten her to react. Not even close. Every time Delta teased him about probably not being able to get it up just to be a bitch knowing she wasn't going to put out anyway even though at the time he didn't know that kept going through his head. She got off on him trying for some reason. Then all the time his end-of-life girlfriend told him it was okay and that it happens sometimes went through his head. He knew sometimes it was because he still wished she was Delta. It was just so hard in a moment like this to not recall the time he used to fantasize about being the guy to be able to appease Delta.

He should go. He should go. He should go. He kept telling himself.

Frank could please her. Good fucking God Frank could please her. Then right as he convinced himself to go Delta came. It was so obvious she came. It wasn't like when he had to ask his girl did you come? It was so damn clear Frank just made her cum and cum so hard and long. For a minute he was confused. He was actually thinking can girls cum that long? Is that possible? Dear fuck what is he doing to her under there to make that physically possible? Someone needed to document this for science.

Then as everything quieted down and Delta was left in some murmuring state with a blissful smile against the breeze, spent, and slumping, slowly gyrating her hips back to enjoy a softer motion not wanting it to completely end, Arthur realized he was staring too long.

Fuck.

He couldn't help but be a bit mesmerized by it all from the way Frank handled her to the clear pleasure she was in. It was weird the thoughts that went through a guy's head at this point. It wasn't like he ever thought Delta was giving up Frank. They were meant to be. Arthur knew that and made peace with that a long time ago. But considering he once had thoughts when they were younger to see that now he couldn't help but think that this was an act he could not ever follow. There was just no way he could ever satisfy her.

Then Delta turned around to face Frank. She was covered in her own blood at that point, but what turning around did was push reality in Arthur's face in a way that had him back to the stairwell when he caught sight of Frank's long, fat, still wet, biggest cock he'd ever seen. Reality check. Reality check. Alert! Alarm bells went off in head and he turned away fast.

He couldn't breathe.

Why was he comparing? Wasn't like Delta wanted him anyway.

"Mm Lurchy." She'd sound dazy like she was still in some dream state resting, leaning against him unready for reality herself. She'd flap her wings, and red droplets would spray out into the wind behind them and graffiti splatter more of the wall as she ran her tongue over favorite scars on his stomach.

Frank may have had the beautiful opportunity to be able to tell when she was feeling it so good not only by reading her body but also her mind, and she never quite knew when she was lost in it which his talent lied in the most, nor did she care. What she knew was when he got her going just right, just like that, he was God and the Devil all the same. He was the magic button and knew how to work it. She might have been the acid queen of this city, but he was the spark behind the magic. In her head he ignited all the power and that's the kind of admiration that would be behind her dragon-slitted eyes in the afters. She'd bite at the skin on his pelvis and take a deep breath of him in when she'd finally say, "Damn I love to get fucked. I needed that."

She looked down at herself as she reached for a hand to get some help up. "What's a Halloween party without any blood?" It was her way of saying she had no intention of cleaning up before going back downstairs to their guests.

That's when Arthur started to panic. He was right on the path to them going back to the party and yet he'd come all this way up to see them. He started to squeeze between his legs mentally telling it to go down. Go down. Go down. Go down stupid boner. Think about anything else he kept telling himself.

Then Delta moved to show Frank the back of her shirt. It was all lifted up weird because of her wings which weren't there when she got dressed. "Do me a favor? Rip a couple holes in the back of this so my wings can fit through. Then we'll go back down." She didn't want the back of her shirt all jacked up weird in the back.

Then with her leather wings out her dragony senses were tuning in and could suddenly hear breathing in the stairwell. She'd asked Frank to take her out of her head so maybe he'd turned off her connection to the link to the thoughts to give her what she'd asked for or maybe she was just being fucked so good she really hadn't noticed until right then. Either way when she did finally notice she looked at Frank and then over the entrance of the stair.

She actually made a tactless snort noise. Then in their mind link said, "Someone's still dreaming, huh?"

The cold added to the whole effect. Making the skin tense up, goosebumps, hardened nipples on both of them, making the warmth between them seem even warmer. Especially when he would bend over and breathe on the back of her neck, on the space between her wings where the blood is, warm split tongue licking it up, tasting it, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as if just that alone was enough to get him off. And it almost was.

Although their connection was mainly in their head, thought to thought, he couldn’t help saying some of the things outloud. The groans, the moans, the small compliments. It felt too big just to keep inside. His hands on that ass, pumping in and out of it, feeling her tighten and squeeze.

He just barely heard the sound of the leg falling down the stairs, the wooden thuds as it hit the stone stair case, descending down. Under her skirts, his hands went now, his thumb playing at her clit, wanting to feel Delta lose even more control, get there faster, as he started to feel closer himself. His thrusts grew harder, messier, his groans against her back, blood spreading around his mouth, in the complete throes of ecstasy here, all for those eavesdropping ears to pick up. Loud enough that they didn’t have a damn choice in the matter.

Gepetto had come in with those sage words, speaking like a wise man. It reminded Figaro of Mufasa in the Lion King movie, when he shows up to tell Simba, Remember who you are. Remember who you are, Figaro. And remember where home is. Even as the crazy world keeps on changing, somehow, you still have a home. A big part of that was thanks to Willem, since his relation to Captain Hook had been good enough to win them continued residence in Feral.

When they looked up to Willem now, despite the ol’ sweaty eyes, they were grateful in that moment. That’s what they took from their father’s message. They had that home because Willem fit in with the weird little Funkytown family perfectly.

“Oh, I get a husband tonight, moi?” They asked, wiping their runny nose with the back of their hand, and tried to pretend for a moment that everything was alright. “Definitely not something I thought I’d ever get, but cool, I can work with that, I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

“Well… hubs,” They said, tapping their chin, looking around, trying to think of what to do. “Let’s go do what you were going to do, and the I say we go Tubthumpin’ Chumbawumba style back at Funkytown with the crew. I’ve always wanted to raid Livvy’s uncle’s closet anyway."

#arthurxfrank #deltaxfrank #splitting

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mrreedmrread · 3 days ago

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Blueberry Pie - F!Reader x Mr. Reed

Chapter 2/?

Female Reader is a 18 y.o. senior in high school and works at a bakery, Mr. Reed is a college professor. 18+. Religious discourse (Catholicism)/blasphemy. Loss of virginity. Dirty talk. Sexual touching, male and female. Oral sex, female receiving. Breeding and praise kinks. Mr. Reed POV this chapter.

He’s wearing his favorite cardigan the evening he meets you.

Well worn, a tad frayed—he really should get that hole mended before it gets any worse—but comfortable. Like the feel of the billfold in his rear pocket, stretched and creased from years of use, reshaped and molded to fit his body. Comfortable like the vintage car he drives, favoring an older model sedan over one of those hybrids everyone fusses over nowadays. Comfortable like the home he lives in—nothing flashy, nothing modern, but his own design. A feat of architecture he’s created with his own hands. The interior, at least; he supposes he must give credit where it’s due.

He’s wearing his favorite cardigan again, that patchwork of squares a reflection of the variety of the religions he’s sampled over the course of his adult life the next time he sees you, although this second meeting is quite accidental. Driving home in the pouring rain—extremely unusual for Utah, one of the driest regions of the US—he’d been entranced by the gentle thumps of the wipers across the windshield as they’d cut a swathe of clean glass for him to see through before the deluge above had stubbornly obscured it once again. Over and over, a cycle not unlike a beating heart. He might never have noticed you, walking home in the late afternoon, had you not turned your face, your fingers swiping at the moisture dousing your features.

He pumps the brakes a little more harshly than he normally does and the beige vehicle jerks to a halt at the shoulder of the road just as you do the same. Patting the dashboard as a kind of silent apology, he then leans over to crank down the passenger side window and you bend slightly, peering warily into the car to view the driver.

“Ah! Hello again! We met in the bakery, remember? Blueberry pie and tea? Need a lift?”

Your hair hangs in damp clumps, plastered in places against your face. Of course you’re going to accept the offer. You both know this. But he still asks, out of courtesy. Giving you a choice. A chance.

You tug on the chrome handle and hastily settle inside the car, tucking your backpack on the floor between your legs. He’s trying very hard not to look at those legs with their dark socks halting just below bare knees, the hem of your charcoal plaid skirt kissing the place where your thighs ended and those joints began.

You swipe at your face again, mumbling your gratitude before fumbling with the lap restraint. It’s always been a bit fussy, that buckle, so he leans over to assist you, his warm hands brushing your chill ones briefly until the metal pieces join with a satisfying click.

“You’re freezing. Here, put this on.” He begins unfastening the buttons of his sweater, ignoring your protest as he shrugs out of one sleeve and leans over the steering wheel to peel the rest of the garment off. You offer a weak smile before draping it around your shoulders. Of course it’s the wrong size, but that’s not the point. It’s dry and warm, still bearing his body heat. He doesn’t miss the way you bring the sleeve to your face as you adjust the clothing to try to subtly inhale the scent.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“No worries. What are you doing walking in this weather?”

“I didn’t realize it was going to pour like this.”

“You don’t drive to school?”

“Sometimes. It depends on the weather. I like walking.”

The man flips the turn signal, casting a glance in the rearview mirror before easing back onto the road. “Why didn’t you call someone to give you a ride?”

“I don’t know. It’s not that far. I thought…” Your voice trails off weakly before you give him your address.

“Well, it’s brave of you, if not particularly clever,” he quips, hoping to see you smile, but your features are now stoic, your gaze fixed on the windshield. He rakes a hand through his hair, deciding on a different approach. “You know, it occurred to me that I never got your name the other day. Or properly introduced myself. I’m Mr. Reed.”

You mumble your name and he repeats it, trying out the sound with his mouth. “A lovely name. Pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes still refuse to meet his and he frowns. “Did something happen today? At school, or…?”

“No. Nothing happened.” You push your thumb through the hole in the sleeve, then retract it again.

“Right. Well, we’re nearly there.” Seeing the driveway devoid of cars, he pulls into it, shifting the gears into park. Your own must be in that garage directly ahead. Three bay doors. Quite spacious.

“Thank you for the ride.” You start to remove the cardigan he’s lent you but he halts you, lightly grasping your upper arm.

“Keep it for now. You can return it another time.”

“What if I don’t see you again?” Your eyes finally meet his. Your lashes are clumped together from the rain, clustering them into dense points.

“You’ll see me again.” His hand is still on your arm. He can feel you trembling, even though the interior of the car is toasty with the hot air circulating from the vents and he feels certain it’s not the solely the chill rain making you shiver. “Are your parents at home? Siblings?”

“No siblings. My parents are at work.” He watches the bob of your throat as you swallow hard.

“A cup of tea would be perfect right now.”

“What?”

“Invite me inside. For tea.” He switches off the ignition.

“Oh. Um…do you want to come inside for tea?”

“A kind offer. Yes, I would.”

He follows you to the front porch, relaxing the shoulders he had hunched up, trying to keep the rain from dripping beneath his shirt collar. You unlock the front door and close it behind him, setting your book bag down while he wipes his loafers on the mat.

The interior of the home is typical middle class suburbia, furnished like so many of its ilk. He doesn’t care for it, his gaze immediately returning to what he does care to look at: namely, you.

“Tea,” he prompts again when you continue to stand there, as if rooted to the spot.

You flush and hurry down the hallway, ducking to the left into what he soon discovers is the kitchen. You fill a kettle—electric, of course—with water from the faucet and lift a pair of ceramic mugs from the cabinet near the sink. He steps closer, resting a hand on one shoulder, and you freeze midway through tearing the paper envelope of a tea bag open.

“Are you going to tell me now what’s upsetting you?”

“No,” you croak.

“Why not?” He brushes back some of the damp tendrils of hair hanging beside your cheek.

“It’s embarassing.”

“What is?”

“My parents will be home soon.”

Mr. Reed frowns. “Not likely. They work a nine to five, I’m willing to wager. Still a few hours away. You don’t need to lie,” he reprimands gently, now hooking his fingers beneath the loose collar of the cardigan draped over you and jerking it down sharply. It falls from your shoulders as you gasp, suddenly revealing your own saturated school blazer and blouse. He can see the outline of your brassiere—sensible white, but no less appealing—before he tosses his cardigan over the edge of the sink and rests a hand along your lower spine.

“I’m not…I’m not lying.”

“You’re not a good liar. As you shouldn’t be. Not a good, Catholic girl like yourself, hmmm?” He lets his fingers drag downward, following the dip of your back before abruptly dropping his hand. “Now tell me why you’re suddenly so reluctant to speak with me. You were quite verbose the other day. What’s changed?”

You shake your head, worrying your bottom lip. The power switch on the stainless steel kettle clicks off as a rush of steam releases from the spout.

“Should I hazard a guess? Would that be easier for you?” He moves to stand directly behind you, one hand now splayed over your abdomen, tugging you back against him while his lips find your ear. “Have you been giving our conversation some consideration, perhaps? Entertaining theories? Envisioning possibilities? Have I had that much of a profound influence? Or maybe it’s something much, much more fundamental. Primal. Awakening. Thoughts of sin,” he whispers, his lips nearly touching your skin.

“Mr. Reed,” you protest, your hand covering the one clasping you around your waist, but you cannot shift his grip.

“Is that why you can’t look me in the eye today?”

Another sharp breath inhaled. Bingo. Hit the nail on the head.

“You think I didn’t notice how you looked at me?”

“Mister…”

“Did you go home and touch yourself and think about me?”

A little moan of sound breaks from your lips. Every question finds its mark, burrowing deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Tell me. All of it. Every lewd scenario.”

“Mr. Reed, I can’t—”

“—You can and you will. Turn around and face me.”

He steps back, releasing you. You obey his command slowly, your eyes downcast until he tucks his fingers beneath your chin and lifts your face.

“Look at me.”

Your lashes lift gradually and he sees it: all the guilt and fear and shame and desire, shining hotly in those orbs.

“There it is,” he utters, the words tinged with a kind of satisfied, grudging admiration. He cradles your cheek and smooths a thumb across the wedge of your lower lip. Your breath stutters and he swallows that sound, his mouth finally crashing against yours.

Your body goes limp as he gathers you against him, pressing you back against the counter, one of the mugs tipping and landing with a loud smack as his tongue lances your lips and strokes along yours. Not your first kiss, no; he’d be naive to think otherwise. But he vows then and there to make you forget all the others that have come before this one.

Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck, toying with the edges of the graying mane that is quite overdue for a trim. The sounds you make are so sweet, those little whimpers and keens and whines that escape every now and again when they part for air, when they readjust as you learn the best way to fit lips and tongues together. He wants to fuck you on that counter he’s pinned you against, that counter that your parents make their morning coffee or tea on and pour breakfast cereal into bowls. And he will.

But not just yet.

“Show me your room,” he huffs against your lips, and your eyes widen slightly in surprise, but you acquiesce, leading him away from the kitchen once he’s granted you the space and freedom of movement to do so.

Your bedroom is stereotypical of many teenage girls your age, caught in that lingering realm between nostalgia for the past, as evidenced by the teddy bear centered on the bedspread, and the encroaching adulthood, on display in the poster of a male musician taped to the closet door, leather clad and pouting. Had that been a source for your little sessions before he’d come along? No matter. That was before.

Now, he has you.

He shoves at the pile of decorative pillows and the aforementioned plush, clearing space on the bed, gesturing for you to get on it. You sit on the edge, clearly nervous, watching him toe off his shoes.

“Get on the bed,” he commands, and you comply, hastily scrambling into place. His added weight makes the mattress springs creak as he joins you, propping himself up on one elbow while one hand moves over your body. “I’m not going to fuck you today. Not with my cock, anyway,” he murmurs, rewarded with another little flair of your dewy lashes. “But I am going to make you cum. And the name that you cry out isn’t going to be your Lord and Savior’s,” he growls, stealing another rough kiss while his hand dips below the hem of your skirt and lifts it. He slides his hand over the tops of your thighs, halting when he reaches the apex that joins them. “Open your legs for me.”

You’re trembling violently now, partly from fear and uncertainty, but partly from the overwhelming desire and anticipation, too, he thinks. His kisses grow more gentle as he lightly fondles your pussy through the crotch of your panties, pleased by their dampness.

“I’m going to try my best not to hurt you,” he promises, snaking his fingers beneath the waistband, eliciting another whimper. Your flesh is scorching hot and slick and he takes several moments to learn the lay of the land, as it were, tracing over your outer and inner labia, the hooded nub and the divot at the nether region, back and forth, up and down, side to side, now painting gentle circles over your clit while you squirm and writhe, one hand locking over his forearm. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he murmurs as he begins easing his middle finger into your canal. You wince and your nails dig into his skin but he ignores this, his thumb soothing your engorged pearl while he works back and forth, pumping in and out in short movements, inserting more of his digit in gradual increments. You’re getting wet again, your body surrendering to him.

“Has anyone ever eaten you out?” You shake your head and he smiles. “Then you’re in for a treat. Keep your legs bent.” He shifts positions, guiding your thighs up and back, better exposing your pussy to him. He begins with soft teasing kisses before properly introducing his tongue, stabbing inside of you, then flicking over your clit. He lets saliva pool in his mouth and then adds it to the natural arousal spilling from inside of you, coating your pink flesh until it’s soaked and slippery. By now you’re becoming restless, your breath panting, one hand tentatively reaching down to touch his head and that’s all the benediction he needs, his finger returning to its quest to defile you fully, thrusting inside to the knuckle and then joined by a partner. His fingers piston and scissor and curl inside of you, stretching you open while his lips and tongue worship your clit, blending and blurring pain and pleasure until at last the latter overtakes the former and you come undone, shattering in his mouth, your fingers tearing at his silver hair, your crotch grinding against his mouth and fingers, his name spilling from your lips.

He hums in amusement, teasing a few last little strokes against your oversensitized clit before he allows you a reprieve, climbing back up the bed to reclaim your mouth, to let you taste yourself on his tongue.

“As good as you’d imagined?”

You don’t answer, not with words, but he feels it in the way your fingers tighten on the collar of his shirt, your mouth eager against his.

“My turn,” he purrs, pressing your hand against the bulge in his trousers. “I’m going to make it easy for you this time.” In truth, it’s not going to take much to set him off. He certainly wouldn’t last with those pretty lips wrapped around his cock right now. As it is, the sight of your hands cautiously unzipping his pants is nearly enough to get him there. He grits his teeth when you shyly pull him out of his boxer briefs. “Fuck,” he curses, and your timid stroking immediately halts. “No, sweetheart. You were doing fine. It’s just…been awhile. You’re doing good, so good…” Your fingers wrap around the shaft once more and you begin pumping up and down. A healthy glob of precum leaks from the head and you smear that over his erection, heightening the sensation.

“Good girl,” he gasps, his face burrowing between your neck and shoulder. He feels you wriggle at this praise and he tucks that information away for later. Right now he just wants release, as blissful as this feels. “You’re going to make me cum, love. I can’t wait to put it inside of you. Fill you up. Breed you…” You moan and he recaptures your mouth and spills over your hand, several pulses of creamy fluid painting your fingers and spurting over your forearm.

He’s so, so tempted to wipe up that jizz and stuff it inside of your cunt, fingering you open and working his seed inside of your fertile womb. The thought is enough to send another weak wave of sperm from the tip of his cock.

Instead he flops back against the pillows and exhales, staring at the ceiling while his heart gradually stops pounding and his breathing returns to normal. His head tips to the side to regard you. “Had fun?” You nod solemnly and he grins crookedly. “You see? No lightning bolts. No wrath of God.”

Your eyes slide from his and he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Hey, now. What’s this? You’re not feeling remorse, are you?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Look at me,” he commands, the light humor leaving his voice. “You wanted this to happen. Choice. Yours. Mine. Bringing us to this moment.”

“I was…I was a virgin.”

He chuckles softly. “I’m aware. And you still are, in some sense of the term. What, is that what’s bothering you? You barely bled. No lasting harm done. Don’t expect me to believe you were,” he draws air quotes, “saving yourself for marriage?”

“No. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m not prepared for any of this. I’m not on birth control, for one thing.”

“That’s easily remedied, if that’s a concern for you.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Aren’t you concerned?”

“About fucking a girl forty years my junior and knocking her up? No. The idea is rather thrilling, actually.” He flashes another grin before he tucks himself back inside his underwear and refastens his fly, completely ignoring your flustered expression. “Lots of older gents become fathers later in life nowadays.”

You’ve wiped his cum off on your skirt, the milky stain lingering evidence of what’s transpired between you. He wonders if you do your own laundry. You’ll have to, now. “My parents would kill both of us.”

He scoffs at your declaration, unperturbed. “You are a grown woman, more than capable of making decisions about your own body. A very beautiful body, by the way,” he murmurs appreciatively, his eyes roving over the figure of you in your rumpled school uniform.

You shake your head and he lets the subject matter drop for now, following your gaze in the direction of the digital alarm clock on your nightstand. “They really will be home soon.”

The older man sighs mournfully. “Alright. I can take a hint. Although…” He leans towards you and kisses your mouth. “Surely we have time for one more round.”

“You can’t…guys can’t cum again that quickly,” you protest.

“Alas, that is true. But you have no such restrictions. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Mr. Reed’s face disappears between your thighs once again.

#mr reed #mr reed x reader #heretic #heretic 2024 #smut #divider courtesy of @thecutestgrotto

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the-bi-space-ace · 1 day ago

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A Quick Cuddle - Part 3 - Hunter

Ao3 Link

Part 1 - Wrecker - Tumblr Link & Ao3 Link

Part 2 - Tech - Tumblr Link & Ao3 Link

Summary: Hunter hugs Echo for the first time.

Words: 1107

“I’m at a loss.” Hunter leaned his chin in his hand as the rippling blue vision of Rex stared back at him. The scuffle hadn’t been the worst he’d seen his squad get into but it was shocking that Echo had thrown the first punch. However, Crosshair had been trying to get under his skin all day so maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Echo had seemed so… responsible before he really knew him. Now he was starting to see that the little spark in his eyes was more like a full blown forest fire of chaos and he had to work twice as hard to keep up with it. Everyone else was getting along but those two… those two were picking at each other every chance they got, arguing over the comms, throwing insults. Hell, Crosshair went too far and he deserved the left hook he got but fighting on the ship was bad for morale. When he separated them he put them in their respective time out spots where they sulked off to wallow alone, getting a few hours of peace while they thought about their actions. Crosshair was still as hard headed as ever, cold shoulder freezing even after the cool down period, but he was flabbergasted by the hot temper flaring when he approached Echo in the cockpit. The cockpit had become his hideaway on the bad days and Hunter had assumed he’d talk himself into a less foul mood by them.

Boy oh boy was he wrong.

So wrong, in fact, that when he tried to check if Echo had cooled off he got a face full of pissed off ARC trooper and barely made it out with his pride intact. That’s why he called Rex. He had to talk to someone who knew Echo better. Someone who could help.

Rex sighed. “I’ve known Echo for a long time. He’s resilient. He’ll adapt.” Like it was that easy. Hunter leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his face.

“It’s more than that. There are… more personal problems that I’m not equipped for.” Admitting it out loud wasn’t what he wanted but there was more at stake than his pride. The captain pursed his lips, thought through his words.

“Look, sometimes he just needs an ear, or a shoulder. Arguing with him will only get you backed into a corner.” Understatement. More like shoved through a wall and dangled over the edge. Hunter knew Echo was strong willed but he’d been irritable as of late. Tech said he wasn’t sleeping and had caught him sneaking up to the cockpit to relieve Wrecker of his night watches.

“I’m not really a talker, Rex.” Hunter groaned as he heard Crosshair complain to Tech, the other man snapping back at him in defense. “He won’t tell me what’s wrong. I’ve tried.”

“Then try for something more your speed, hit all the bases. Make him feel included. Joke with him. Give him a hug.” Rex shrugged, laughing when Hunter grimaced at the suggestion. Good suggestions but Hunter wasn’t feeling too confident in his place to administer that kind of solution. “He’s not a tooka. He won’t bite if you pet him wrong.” Rex tilted his head, thought better of it. “Well… he might, but it’s worth a shot.” Hunter huffed at the grin Rex shot him before waving with something closer to pity than sympathy. Begrudgingly he let Rex leave, shoving up from his seat to approach Echo who was now pacing the cockpit like a caged animal.

Something at his own speed. What was that exactly? He tried talking - awkwardly, horribly - and that just made his charge more pissed off. Trying again seemed ill advised but they couldn’t battle each other for the rest of the war. By the time he made it to the cockpit Echo looked ready for a fight, snippy and guarded and glaring like he already knew exactly what Hunter was going to say.

“I’m not going to apologize to that loud mouthed, laser brained, assh-” Hunter didn’t give Echo much of a chance to finish. He grabbed Echo by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. The other man froze, arm held away as if he was afraid Hunter was a bomb that might go off. Still, he persisted. He patted Echo’s back a few times, squeezing just a moment longer before letting him go. Even stepping back to put respectful space between them.

Echo’s expression had fallen unreadable. His eyes blinked back at Hunter with confusion, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Why did you do that?” Apprehension had taken over his body, stiff. Still, he was a sergeant and needed to soldier on regardless of the hardship.

“You’re part of this team. That means we are here for whatever you need. I want you to know that.” Wrong thing to say.

“I can handle myself.” Echo’s nose scrunched up, confusion and annoyance morphing together. With a heavy sigh Hunter steeled himself. He was going to need a tough front to combat this mission.

“You don’t have to do it alone.” Hunter poured as much sincerity into it as he could to try an appeal to Echo’s softer side. It was there underneath all of that indignation, burrowed somewhere beneath rage and what had to be stress. It was a waiting game then. Echo ran it through his head, considering his next move. He knocked him off balance by coming in waving a white flag and now Echo was going to have to work out how to respond.

“I-” Echo looked away, shaking his head. “It hurts.” It looked like everything hit him all at once. His shoulders slumped, his face dropping from anger to pain, and suddenly that standoffishness made a lot more sense. It took a moment to realize he was talking physically. That his body was in pain and he’d had enough. Being pushed by their snippy sniper had sent him over the edge. Right as he put the pieces together Echo was stepping forward to pull Hunter into another hug, no longer frozen in space as he was the first time.

Hunter let himself hug back, let Echo lean his weight on him to take the load off. Carrying everything he had been, all alone, had to have taken it out of him. Hunter gently dug his thumb into the meat of Echo’s shoulder, hearing him hiss, and dragged it through the muscles until he found the knot that rested right next to his shoulder blade. Working out the knots wouldn’t fix anything but it was a start.

Hunter would take a start.

#echovember #echo-vember #tbb echo #echo bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb hunter #arc trooper echo #i genuinely think Hunter’s awkwardness is very endearing

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lulublack90 · 3 days ago

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Prompt 20 - Birthmark

@jegulus-microfic November 20, Word count 922

Previous part First part

James was seething all over again. He couldn’t believe that Snape could sink so low as to have Regulus’s room destroyed like that because he was jealous of his art. James was glad Regulus was living with him because he would have ended up camping outside his door every night to make sure he was safe. He may only be in his twenties, but he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor for the foreseeable future. He suddenly became aware of the scuffle beside him. Sirius was trying to get to Mulciber and Remus and Regulus were holding him back. James had thought Regulus would be more upset over the matter, but he seemed to be handling it well. James decided to stop pondering and actually help with Sirius. He came up behind him and lifted him off the floor. Sirius’s legs and arms were flailing everywhere, but James just walked him out of the doors and onto the grounds, heading towards the carpark.

“Put me down, Prongs!” Sirius growled angrily as he tried in vain to weaken the grip James had on him. Regulus and Remus were just behind them. Remus had hold of Regulus’s hand, but Regulus seemed more concerned about calming his brother.

“Sirius, it doesn’t matter. I won anyway; my art is on show and his isn’t. I don’t need you to avenge me,” He pleaded, but Sirius wasn’t listening.

“James, let go of me! Snape’s going to regret the day he messed with my little brother!”

“Sirius, will you calm down!” Regulus groaned. James got them to the car but then realised to get his keys, he’d have to put Sirius down, and that bugger could run like lightning given the chance. He’d never catch him if he got away now.

“Reg, love, could you get the keys out of my front pocket?” He’d ask Remus, but these were some of his tighter jeans and the pockets weren’t all that roomie. Regulus’s hands were more slender than Remus’s.

Regulus didn’t even hesitate. He plunged his hand into James’s pocket and fished out the keys while avoiding Sirius’s kicking legs. He unlocked the car and held the back door open for him. “Remus go round the other side and put the child locks on,”

“I am not a child!”

“Then stop acting like one.”

Remus ran around, and after a second pause to click the little switch in the door, he jumped in. “Right, Padfoot in you go,” And James threw Sirius in feet first. Regulus jumped in after him, flicking the child lock at the same time and slamming the door. James could still hear Sirius’s protests from inside the car, but he could deal with that. He went over to the driver's door and got in, ignoring the profanity spouting from Sirius’s mouth, and drove them home.

“I take it you guys really don’t like Snape then?” Regulus asked during a lull in Sirius’s tirade.

“Yeah, we were all living in halls last year and, unfortunately, so was he. He lived in the room next to mine and Sirius’s, and Remus was on the other side. He did not appreciate that we knew how to have fun, and he didn’t. He was always making complaints about us. We even offered for him to swap with Remus, and that way, he’d have an entire room between us, but he refused to give up his room. We, er, we may have pulled a few pranks on him.” James said as he stopped at the traffic lights. He pulled off again and turned into the carpark outside their block of flats. “Let’s just say we don’t get on and his friends aren’t much better than him.” James finished as he got out and opened the back doors to let his passengers out. Sirius, thankfully, had calmed down. He was clearly still plotting vengeance, but at least he wouldn’t go and do something stupid straight away.

James’s phone rang and he answered it.

“Oi, Potter. I’ve got space tomorrow if you still want that tattoo,” Mary said cheerily down the phone to him.

“Yes! Definitely! I swear this time I’ll show up.”

“You’d better, or I’ll tattoo it on some rando,” She warned him mischievously.

“I swear I’ll be there,” James promised.

“You’d better. Love you,” Mary cooed at him and hung up.

They walked up to James’s flat, and they all went inside.

“Was that Mary?” Remus asked once they’d found seats and flopped down.

“Yeah, I was on my way to get a new tattoo but then…” Regulus winced.

“Sorry,” He murmured into James’s chest where he’d snuggled into.

“Don’t be daft,” James chuckled, stroking Regulus’s hair out of his eyes. “That was important and Mary didn’t mind.”

“What are you getting?” Remus asked with interest.

“Regulus’s stag painting.”

“Sweet, where?” James leaned forward and dragged his t-shirt off over his head and, after moving Regulus a bit, he managed to swivel towards Remus and pointed at his chest.

“Right here, under Sirius’s stars and your moon. I thought the sunset would look good under them.”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll look great,” Remus beamed at him. Regulus’s finger brushed against his side; he tensed a bit at the touch as it tickled him.

“You’ve got a birthmark,” Regulus said quietly as he traced the darker patch of skin. “It looks like antlers,”

“Yeah, it does,” James laughed. “That's how I got the nickname Prongs,” James told him, and they broke into the story of how they all got their nicknames.

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applebuttercringe · 19 hours ago

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Pre-finale Arcane thoughts

I'm so glad we are getting more Arcane content tonight, I am so sad that we are never getting Arcane content ever again.

The writers have revealed that Act 3 will be the longest act by far, with the final episode being much longer than the average episode. It isn't specified how long, but it will be longer.

Despite this extra runtime, and the S2 pattern of getting multiple music video segments per episode, this Act has by far the least songs. Most of the songs have already happened. We only have 3 songs on the soundtrack that haven't happened yet. Then again that assuming the Blood Sweat and tears song will not make it into Arcane. This might be a good sign that they are going to use that extra time for more detailed plot. I know too much music was a big complaint of the first 2 acts.

Also there will be a Viktor song ♥️

I am hopeful for more Jayce and Viktor content, I am excited that they will have another confrontation and Viktors final transformation. I am of course sad about the figurative death of Viktors humanity. It seems from some leaks like the show will put immense emphasis on Viktor and Sky's relationship. It is still unclear to me if the Sky Viktor see's in the Hexcore is really Sky. From what we saw in S1 Viktor and Sky didn't have a very close relationship, we are only ever shown him brushing her off. His grief over her death is more a general guilt and grief of having taken a good persons life, not a personal loss because of a significant relationship between them. My interpretation is that Viktors visions of Sky are a manifestation of guilt. After finding out how much she looked up to him he wished that he had gotten to know her when he could. Believing she is with him now is a coping mechanism to avoid the guilt that he is grieving someone who he went out of his way not to give a chance. Maybe the show will take it in this direction, maybe she will be revealed to be the Hexcore controlling him, maybe they go all in on SkyVik as the new doomed romance.

I like Jinx and I look forward to the show furthering her recovery. If they do. Inevitable because of the death of Isha Jinx is going to spiral, we will get way more sad Jinx content. She will try and kill herself again, she will be absolutely destroying and isolating herself. It's the same thing we have gotten from Jinx for the entire show, she is just forever on the pain train. I am hopeful however that the show will focus on a recovery and that Vi and Jinx's relationship will stay intact despite Jinx's intense grief. I hope Vi will in some way be able to stay and comfort Jinx through the loss of Isha, and through Jinx's self blame. Both Vi and Jinx blame themselves for the death of their younger sibling (powder's emotional death) and perhaps they can both find solace in each other.

Caitlyn and Vi will get back together. Fingers crossed that we get a Cait/Vi sex scene. though honestly the hope is mostly for the memes. After their devastating breakup I am not sure how well the show will be able to just get them back together and make the relationship ok. From both characters perspectives the other has betrayed them in every way, gone against their deepest morals. Vi is in a close family relationship with Jinx, the woman who killed Caitlyns mother, after she promised she had no more sympathy for Jinx. Caitlyn betrayed Vi's trust and tried to shoot a child, then she attacked Vi and gassed the streets of her home. I really hope Arcane doesn't just gloss over this and get them back together. We know from the trailers that they at least argue about it, but most of the blame seems to be shifted to Ambessa, which is kinda weak.

Obviously we will get the Ekko/Heimerdinger Time travel plot. My only concern is that we will not get enough time for this. Even with the extra long act, time travel is an insane element to include this late in the story. Time travel as a plot point is infamous for creating massive problems for the story, it's almost never done well.

Overall I think episode 7 will start with a cold open flashback to Jayce's time in the Hexcore and show us both what happened to him that caused his turn against Viktor, I think this will be a flash forward to a future where Viktors commune has spread and the people don't really have free will. This flashback will also show us what happened to Ekko and Heimerdinger. This is where time travel will be introduced.

The next episode will focus on Jinxs grief, she will have another attempt on her life and be stopped by Vi. Vi and Caitlyn fight over Jinx's involvement in Caitlyns mothers death, but Caitlyn will see Jinx's grief and how it mirrors her own and come to the conclusion that war destroy all. Caitlyn and Vi will fight about Caitlyns involvement with Ambessa. Ambessa and Singed will be bringing Vander back to life as well as Viktor. Singed will strip Viktor of his remaining humanity so the "mutation" will survive. Viktor in some way will agree to this motivated by his witnessing how emotions tore down his commune and the betrayal of his best friend, accompanied by The Line song.

Jayce returns and finds out that Viktor is being resurrected, he once again wants to stop him in order to stop the Arcane from spreading. He will explain the Hexcores spread to Vi and Caitlyn to explain his action sagainst Viktor.

In the final episode they all team up to fight Ambessa, Jayce goes separately to fight Viktor. Ambessa will have revived Vander, except he will have lost his humanity and no longer contain Vi's father. This breaks Vi's heart, but she ultimately has to fight and stop him. Caitlyn and Ambessa will have a showdown that mirrors their training fight on the boat. This fight will take most of the episode and have a banger soundtrack. At some point in this Piltover v.s. Noxus battle Jinx will show up having made the choice to move forward and redefine herself, here we get the haircut and new design. Maybe she will rename herself.

I'm not sure how Mel fits in, her plotline seems so separate to the rest of the story. My assumption is she somehow makes it back to Piltover and confronts her mother about being the mystery child with magic powers. She will also side with Piltover against her mother. Being forced to fight against her daughter will shake Ambessa's resolve, as in her mind she is doing all this for her daughter.

I have the sinking feeling this will all end with the characters solving it with the power of friendship. It seems obvious that they will team up to fight Noxus, but there is no way they kill Ambessa, she is too profitable and promoted by Riot. Her status as a badass is being promoted on all the games and she has a tie in book coming out. I doubt they kill Vi or Jinx, too central. Caitlyn has to live to end up with Vi. Killing Viktor for a third time would be cheap. Jayce's arc hasn't led up to it.

I have a lot of ideas for cool things that could happen, and where it feels like the story is steering, But I can't see how these plot threads come together for a satisfying conclusion in just 3 episodes.

So much discussion about Arcane S2 ends with "but we'll see where it goes" this is the shows last chance to prove if it really was going somewhere with all of this, if the last few episodes were just set up to something great, like how so many people found season 1 act 1 boring/generic. or if the show is just fumbled. If these episodes suck then it will retroactively make these characters arcs all feel like they ended up going nowhere. In a heavily plotted show like Arcane where everything has always ended on a cliff hanger, where it finally goes will make or break the show. These character arcs and little animation details people have been obsessing over were either genius or a bunch of fluff that ended up amounting to nothing.

I am excited, a little worried. Mostly excited.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane jinx #arcane theory #vi arcane #arcane jayce #arcane predictions #predictions #arcane discussion #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi

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