#he's a possessive bastard. ❤️

[atticwifesam]

dean winchester + obsessive love

cynthia bond, from ‘ruby’ // my dark vanessa: a novel, kate elizabeth russell // howl, florence + the machine

[navybrat817]

Back Off, He's Mine

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.

Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.

“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”

“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”

He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”

“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.

His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.

Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”

Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.

You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.

“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.

“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”

Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.

It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.

“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”

She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”

“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.

“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.

Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.

“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”

Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.

“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”

Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.

Defending each other was second nature, always would be.

Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.

“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.

You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”

The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.

“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”

She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”

“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”

You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”

Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”

You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”

An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”

“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”

You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”

“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”

She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.

You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”

It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.

Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”

“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”

She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”

“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.

A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”

You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”

“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.

“You think she’ll back off now?”

“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”

He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”

Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.

They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.

And you couldn't wait for more.

Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[swordgrace]

❝ 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟. ❞

┊ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in the midst of a war that threatens to tear the realm asunder, you offer robb a temporary reprieve from the weight of his duties.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: robb stark x baratheon!reader.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7K.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), heavy kissing, groping, biting/marking, unprotected p in v sex, obligatory stark breeding kink (they all have one), robb is a little rougher (but loving!), missionary position, robb is a tease, robb has a thigh fixation (credit to @dipperscavern on that one!), cunnilingus, oral sex (fem!rec), getting eaten out on the war table, soft + sweet ending!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my first time writing for robb so please be gentle !! I had sooooo much fun with this though, I would absolutely not be opposed to writing more of him! I hope you all enjoy reading it, thank you so much! ❤️

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞.

War was an ugly thing — cruel, like rust upon a blade, threatening to disintegrate all within its path, or a festering plague, leaving destruction in its wake. Such exposure to all of its callousness had startled you, and yet, it did not fracture your pious demeanor.

Wed to Robb Stark in the midst of grueling chaos was something that you hadn’t envisioned for yourself; once caught within a web of luxury, now condemned to a battlefield.

Marriages of convenience were commonplace, with your status and family offering the Stark cause a wealth of resources. With what time you had at his side, Robb did not treat you unkindly — he was often pensive, agitated, brusque — but that was no fault of your own.

As you withdrew from your own family and assimilated into his own, you had realized that he deserved your compassion now, more than ever. The death of his father was still evergreen, like a fresh wound that was slow to heal.

It was effortless for you to sympathize, having lost your own father rather recently, something that did not feel entirely real. A sliver of your being wondered about your siblings — how they fared, if they truly missed you.

According to the innumerable rumors that had reached your ears, you were one of the only Baratheons sired who did not possess the blood of a bastard.

It left you with this chasm, gnawing away at your very soul — your family was not your family, your father slain, gored down by a wild boar, your uncles clawing at the throat of one another. Your Mother, a figure who had both inspired fear and fury, placing your monstrous sibling upon the Iron Throne.

Loneliness was a constant companion, save for that of your lord-husband, who was often away fighting his own battles. Gaining mastery over your own discontent, you made your loyalty to Robb known whenever you could, be it through softspoken whispers or the merit of action.

This night, however, was different; the dew-laden gale had quieted, the sting of dusk’s chill subdued to make way for a temperate evening. Having filled your needy lungs with enough fresh air, you returned to your shared tent, guards posted outside, bearing shields with direwolf sigils.

Poised beside the planning table, Robb sat firmly within a wooden seat, fist tucked beneath his bearded chin, auburn brows furrowed together. Exuding a poised concentration, you did not break his focus, silently striding toward your makeshift vanity.

Ripples of frustration wafted from him, nearly palpable as you reached for your nightgown. He hadn’t moved, picking apart the arrangement of wooden pieces across a board — his hand would soon be dealt.

In the spiritedness of his youth, Robb was both tenacious and methodical, born for the taxing role of leadership. With the title of King of the North weighing down upon him, there were expectations — men counting on him, moves to be made. He did not wish to look weak.

Clutching the silken fabric between your fingers, you quietly approached him where he sat, wanting to inquire about his thoughts. An awkward tension still lingered around the fringes of your blossoming bond — a bond that had moved slowly, but had not yet withered away.

“What is it you seek?” The first to fracture the tenuous silence, you watched as Robb exhaled; steely, resolute. Your untrained eyes were not accustomed to that of a battlefield, but you knew enough to understand the current position.

Eerily quiet, Robb’s gaze narrowed upon the lion figureheads that swarmed The Trident, measuring his own forces against that of Tywin’s. He had lost track of time, wasting away at this very table, attempting to see something that simply wasn’t there.

At last, his hand shifted from his chin to the table, clenching into a closed fist, posture coiled with a bristling irritation. It was not directed at you; merely the situation he found himself in. “I wish that I knew.” He confessed, Northern timbre thick with frustration.

Timidity had not yet gripped you, and you allowed your hand to ghost above his shoulder, clad in leather. Your hold was tender and yet so distant, as if you were afraid of leaning into it fully.

Robb sighed, allowing a sliver of tension to unfurl from his muscles when you graced him with your touch. Cerulean hues flickered from the war table to your hand; as delicate as that of bellflower that grew along the earthy banks of the Trident.

Reaching for you, calloused digits tenderly wrapped around your hand, thumb tracing over the soft ridges of your knuckles. “Forgive me for my absence, my Lady,” Robb did not want there to be some bridge between you — you were undeserving of it. “It is not a slight against you.”

A pang of warmth slithered across your body, heating your features as you squeezed his hand, like velvet against roughened leather. “I did not think it was,” You reassured, voice as sweet as summertime. “You are fighting a war.”

A brief scoff erupted from his throat, one of disdain. “If I do not plan ahead, then I will be losing a war instead of fighting one.” Robb murmured, unable to rid himself of his mounting agitation. He did not enjoy dragging this into your marriage, but it was unavoidable.

Perhaps you’d grown curious, allowing your gaze to drift over him, over his strong, comely features; the thick curls of a dark auburn, visage shadowed by a beard, hues like that of a clear brook. He was handsome to you — moreso like this.

“You underestimate your ability as a tactician,” Lips twitched into a comforting smile, hoping to offer him some brief reprieve. “The answer will make itself known to you. The longer you sit and toil over this table, you will drive yourself mad.”

A threadbare smirk had ghosted over his features, a fleeting gesture that seemed to linger for longer than expected. Appreciative of your sage advice, Robb drew your hand closer, lips pressing against the skin of your knuckles.

“It can rest until dawn.” Robb concurred, albeit reluctantly. As much as he desired to strategize here and now, the lack of clear answers had ruffled him to no end. He turned slightly within the chair, wood groaning beneath him as he angled himself away from the table.

Instead, the sight before him now was far more appealing than that of any parchment or Flayed Men figurines. He found you, standing near him in a gown of buckthorn and ivory, shades that had complimented you nicely.

Robb was fortunate to have you; dutiful, a heart swollen with kindness, and as pious as a septon. Such admirable qualities had only accentuated your beauty, one that far exceeded your rotten kin, the whole of them spoiled, save for you.

It was wrong of him to want you with such ferocity, this innate desire to covet you, keep you tethered to him, but he could not help himself. He had grown rather fond of you — overprotective, perhaps, but such was the duty of a husband.

“Is there anything that I can do to offer some relief? I cannot imagine the weight that you shoulder,” The soothing cadence of your voice had stirred some carnal feeling within him. The relief he sought was of a different sort. “You carry it well.”

A bemused huff of laughter rippled through him, a glint of something peculiar dancing within his gaze. Robb knew that you were paying him a generous compliment, careworn fingers idly caressed over your own, a beat of silence following suit.

It was then that your wandering eyes found the front of his tunic, partially unclasped, revealing a glimpse of his musculature beneath. Even following your stiff consummation, you were still incredibly smitten, as if it were the first time again.

“Your presence is more than enough, I assure you.” There was some partial truth to his words, placating you in the process. He shielded you from the brunt of his desirous thoughts, wanting you terribly, as a man yearned for his wife.

Unconvinced, you let the matter rest, offering him an amiable smile, teeming with a fond warmth as you quietly admired him. In the face of such callous adversity, Robb stood above it all — those who underestimated him would surely regret it, you suspected.

As his stare returned to meet yours, you nearly buckled at the intensity of it, as if he had dared to set you ablaze through eyes alone. A hitch formed within your throat, lips parting as he planted another kiss to your knuckles.

“You are beautiful,” Robb murmured, beard prickling against your wrist as he noted your sheepish countenance. It was easy to ensnare you so, a simple task, and he reveled in it. You were a delight, one that illuminated the hazy murk of his current state. “My wife.”

Words turned to ash upon your tongue, unable to think of some deflecting response, averting your gaze. His cadence had roused some inkling of fire within you, and addressing you as wife only served to fan this flame.

Rising from the chair, Robb’s stature began to loom above you, cerulean hues glistening with the onslaught of desire. His affection for you had steadily grown over the past few moons, and now, it seemed uncontrollable — rampant, even.

“Robb.” His name caught within your throat, feeling the plane of his musculature press snugly against your own body. Your sweetness was beguiling to him, the doe-like look permeating your eyes.

Strong palms cupped your hips through the silken plane of fabric that clung to you, his demeanor melding into something stoic, instead. There was a sliver of hesitancy present, as if he were waiting for you to consent before continuing.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you felt his hand lift, sweeping your tresses aside, exposing the slender expanse of your throat to him. “I’ve missed your warmth.” Robb’s husky confession nearly makes your bones lurch, stomach churning with an intense want.

In the midst of such tumultuous chaos, crushed beneath the weight of a senseless war, Robb found himself needing you more than ever. There was a respite he found within you, a sanctuary that offered him solace from heavy responsibilities.

Admittedly, you had grown to crave him in ways you never thought possible, and this only seemed to stoke the flames. Frustration emanated from him, coiled within his broad shoulders, thinly-veiled upon his rugged visage.

“As I’ve missed yours, husband.” Breathless, you watched as Robb’s gaze became shadowed with desire, the hint of a mirthful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You felt his hand knead into the swell of your hip, beseeching you to sit against the edge of the table.

Planting a kiss to your jaw, Robb felt your soft palm move beneath his tunic, drifting toward the exposed skin of his chest. It evoked a gentle growl from him, more wolf than man. “I suppose I’ll have to remedy that.” He uttered, watching as you nodded in agreement.

In a heated surge, his lips found yours, biting with hunger, palms continuing to knead at your flesh over your evening shift. A gasp rippled through you, one of exhilaration as you clamored to reciprocate, arm draping over his shoulder.

The soft brush of his auburn curls swept against your fingertips, prompting your palm to cup the nape of his neck. His lips were a kiss of fire, instilled with a wanton vigor as you reciprocated with your own flurry of desire.

A soft moan bubbled within your throat, skin beginning to crawl with heat as he urged you closer, body molding to his own. Robb craved the saccharine taste of your mouth, craved the innocence and purity that wafted from you, a doe laid bare before the wolf.

One hand curled into the fabric of your gown, beginning to guide the material up, letting it drift along your legs. As if acting upon instinct, your legs began to part, as if involuntarily welcoming him in, accommodating his muscled frame that wedged between.

With an incendiary caress, your hand continued to dance beneath his tunic, urging the leather ties to come undone. A brief huff of excitement tore past his lips, gaze eclipsed by a powerful yearning, and in-turn, he coaxed your gown toward your thighs.

Mouths continued to intertwine; desperate kisses born of a mounting desire, one that had grown into an unbounded flame. Leather fell away from his torso, exposed to the pale muscle, chest covered in a generous layer of dark auburn hair.

Robb allowed one hand to slip against your bare flesh, enticed by the way your breath hitched at the brief sensation. Darkening hues raked over you, laced with possessiveness, ardor — it seemed to swallow you whole.

As his digits sought the coalescing heat between your thighs, you shivered at the caress of cold fingertips, making their way beneath your gown. “Robb.” A sharp gasp inhabited your lungs, piercing your ribs as he withdrew from your lips.

“Does this displease you?” Robb’s cajoling tone held inklings of something sultry, intended to tease you as he held you close. Met with the immediate shake of your head, he fought to withhold a threadbare grin.

“Gods, no,” As if possessed, your hips lurched forward, desperately seeking the friction of his hand. “I—I need you.” Unable to smother your own bristling desire, your hands molded themselves to his broad shoulders, egging him closer.

Lips began to pepper themselves along your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh like that of a keen predator. A moan tumbled from your mouth, knees squeezing incessantly at his hips, able to feel his fingers crawl along your inner thigh.

Akin to tendrils of searing heat, you nearly whined as Robb’s digits found your cunt, ghosting over your petals with a torturous, feather-light caress. He enjoyed watching you gasp and writhe, nails digging crimson crescents into his flesh.

Stringing constant kisses to your throat, his cerulean gaze savored you, this creature of beauty. A breathy whimper left you as he trailed his fingers over your slit, able to feel the nectar that had slicked your nethers.

“Easy.” Robb’s sultry timbre fanned beside your jugular, prompting you to still as his digits dipped between your folds. Each languid caress evoked a shiver from you, heat festering over your flesh.

“Do not torment me, I beg of you.” With a whimpered protest, your nails dug further still, countenance a reflection of exhilaration as he began to sluggishly caress along your cunt. A sly chuckle escaped Robb’s mouth, teeth greedily nipping at your jugular.

Treating you to the rhythmic ministrations of his hand, your hips continued to lurch forward, a string of moans freely leaving your mouth. A calloused hand found its way to your thin shift, seeking to remove it altogether.

Adjusting your position, you swiftly assisted your husband in the unceremonious removal of your garments, allowing the fabric to come billowing away from your form.

A low hum of approval resonated from Robb, whose mouth was voracious, seeking to kiss and suck at your flesh. In unabashed rapture, his hungry gaze raked over your form, mouth continuing to lavish you in strings of heated kisses.

“I cannot stand being away from your side,” As the unexpected confession floated into the slim space between your bodies, Robb tensed, teeth stilling against your collarbone. In the wake of rising sentiments, it was difficult not to vocalize your own wanting. “I need you here.”

Darkened hues set themselves upon you, pitch blues that seemed to sink their teeth into you. His chest swelled with desire, a feeling so overwhelming that he nearly pounced upon you.

Continuing to stroke along your slit, he pressed a kiss to your naked shoulder. “Is that so?” Robb’s cadence invoked some lascivious curiosity within you, one that made your hips jolt. “As my lady commands.”

Mouths delicately searched for one another, embracing in a brazen entanglement. The flame of his kiss left you with naught but ash, and you nearly thanked him for it. Steadying yourself atop the table, your hands reached out, cupping his bearded jaw.

Such heat was fleeting as Robb’s lips delved over your throat, his descent steady as he lavished your flesh in kisses. Hunger danced across your skin, and you felt yourself quake with a surge of desire, the scratch of his beard prickling the valley between your breasts.

A strangled whine slipped past your lips, wooden pieces of the war table clattering behind you as your hand reached backwards. Robb remained unperturbed by this, gaze ravenously admiring your physique, from the velvety skin to your feminine curves.

Down, down; his descent was paved with ardor, allowing to bleed freely from each kiss, aided with the occasional gnaw of his teeth. He worshiped you as he would some goddess, a low growl stirring within his throat as he reached your stomach.

With the table’s lowered height, it gave him an unhindered advantage, strong palms continuing to knead into your thighs. “Beautiful.” Robb murmured, hot breath fanning across your abdomen. You were the envy of all, beauty unmatched in his eyes.

Kneeling before you, a sinner come to utter devious confessions between your thighs, Robb urged you closer, feeling the rake of your fingertips through his crown. Kisses continued to etch themselves into your body, from the swell of your hips to the silky canvas of your inner thighs.

“Robb,” A tremulous moan spilled from your lips, wrought with a burning desperation. Wolfish hues did not leave you as he allowed your legs to rest against his shoulders, head nestled comfortably between. “Robb.”

Nails dug into the parchment beneath your palm, a wisp of air lodged within your throat as your husband sought the heat of your cunt. You very nearly lurched from the table, a strangled whine elicited from you.

With a broad stroke of his tongue, he raked hot embers over your core, hands steadying you, calloused digits pressing into the meat of your haunches. The unexpected surge of pleasure washed over you within an instant.

Anchoring yourself to the table with one hand, the other sought to sink into his crown of auburn curls, nimble digits finding a handful. A low, sonorous growl erupted from the depths of his throat, tongue possessing a fervent desire of its own.

The shadow of his beard scratched against your supple flesh, leaving behind a prickling burn in its wake. You cared little for what mess it would leave, galloping after whatever pleasure Robb provided. Eager lips traced the damp outline of your nethers.

Lurching forward, your hips jolted, urging yourself onto his tongue with a twinge of desperation. His tongue continued to greedily lap at your slit, teasing your entrance before moving to ghost around the pearl of your cunt.

A man starved, Robb consumed you as if he were withering away, enraptured by your myriad of throaty praises and tugs of his curls. Calloused digits kneaded into your pliant flesh, keeping you grounded, shoulders spreading you apart.

With slow, eager laps of his tongue, Robb made sure to savor you, letting the flat of his tongue fall heavy across your clit. The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit.

It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, the sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. A lascivious hunger swelled within him, an innate, domineering need to possess you, claim you like that of a wolf.

Those shieldbearers that stood diligently outside of his tent were, unfortunately, subjected to the sounds of sensuality inside. He cared little if the whole of the encampment heard, so long as they all knew whom you belonged to.

Robb remained somewhat wordless during this process of pleasuring you, preferring for his ministrations to speak for themselves.

A myriad of delighted moans tore past your lips, eyes pleasantly half-lidded, fingers continuing to rake throughout his auburn curls. You urged him closer, hips rolling into the fervent heat of his mouth, thighs quivering as he treated you to a lap of his tongue.

This barrage of bliss assaulted your body with such intensity, molten heat churning within the pit of your stomach, oozing between your thighs. Robb savored your taste, hands kneading their way along your legs, keeping you firmly rooted in-place.

The tip of his nose brushes along your petals, tongue splitting deeper still, until he vigorously laps at your nethers. Your taste permeates his mouth, a bittersweet ambrosia that draws him into some lovestruck haze.

“Gods, do not stop,” It became some desirous incantation, breathy pleas spilling from your lips, accompanied by his name, a constant upon your tongue. Thighs twitched around him, with the wolf-king rightfully smothered between your legs. “Robb, please!”

A grunt of approval reverberated throughout his chest, the vibration of it felt along your cunt. A thin layer of perspiration began to coalesce against your spine, cooling with the temperate climate. It was then that his tongue began to circle around your pearl, prompting your hips to lurch forward.

Shockwaves of ecstasy rushed through you, flooding throughout your insides like some cascading wave. Keeping you grounded against the table, he greedily lapped at the pearl of your cunt, savoring the string of mewls that escaped your lips.

A coil of taut heat sat firmly within your belly, beginning to unfurl as your Northern husband has his fill of you with an incessant need. Wanton fingers continue to tug against his crown of curls, evoking a sharp groan from within his chest.

Able to feel the first onslaught of your peak, you fought against crying out, attempting to tame your ecstatic whimpers. A sob of delight wracked your throat, body bending to his ministrations, succumbing to pleasure.

Lips pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling upon the sensitive clutch of nerves. A sharp gasp penetrated your lungs, like a sudden stab of intensity that made your thighs tremble. With a roll of your hips, Robb intermingled such actions with broad strokes of his tongue.

“Robb!” Gods help you; such ecstasy had been foreign to you for the longest time, and now, it was overwhelming. Strong, veined hands kneaded themselves into the swell of your hips, urging you onto his tongue as you approached your pinnacle.

It was a melody that he would never tire of, the delighted cadence of your voice, tapering off into an amalgamation of praises and moans. Flushed and desperate, Robb felt his cock throb incessantly within his trousers, aching to bury himself within you.

“That’s it, love.” Robb growled, teeth nipping at the supple flesh of your inner thigh, Northern timbre sending shivers up your spine. His tone was husked with desire, shadowed gaze closely following your face.

Buckling beneath the weight of your mounting arousal, your body succumbed, as if a barrier had been obliterated. A surge of heat flooded your insides, pooling between your thighs as you quivered in the aftermath.

Dutiful as ever, Robb’s mouth teased you further, sluggishly lapping at your nectar, a glistening sheen clinging to his chin. The scratch of his beard made for a pleasant contrast, chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath.

Feather-light kisses etched themselves into your thigh, as your husband slowly began to withdraw. Darkened hues met your gaze, imbued with a rousing hunger that set your bones ablaze.

Despite the ruinous state of the war-table, pieces having been scattered in all directions, Robb only wished to continue. His hands found the plush swell of your hips, guiding you back against his chest, lips pressing to your shoulder.

“Shall I take you here or in our bed, m’lady?” His inquiry was permeated with a thinly-veiled arousal, tone a touch lower than before. The Northern coarseness of it made you shudder in delight, hands finding the nape of his neck.

The leather-clad swell of his cock gently rocked against your nethers, causing a gasp to inhabit your lungs. With his need made evident, your own eagerness demanded that he not be kept waiting. One hand drifted to the ties of his breeches, giving them a brief tug.

“Bed,” As the singular syllable floated from your lips, Robb steered you toward the makeshift mountain of furs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. In the midst of your movement, you untied his trousers, letting them sag upon his hips. “Please.”

It was Robb whose legs had kissed the furs first, palms molding themselves to your curves, hastily kicking out of his breeches. His mouth sought yours, lips colliding in a fervor of teeth and tongue, able to taste remnants of yourself throughout.

Moving backwards, Robb settled onto the bed, taking you with him, strong hands gripping you with such quiet strength. Muscled forearms remained taut, maneuvering you beneath him in the midst of entangled limbs and desperate kisses.

As your back slithered across the plush hide of elk and bear alike, you gazed at your husband, whose rugged features were flushed, swirling with lust. He made himself comfortable between your legs, savoring the sensation of your thighs squeezing at either side of his hips.

Calloused digits immediately seized the plush meat of your thigh, tracing across the silken skin, reveling in your beauty. Robb considered himself fortunate, to wed one as comely as you, with your graciousness and gentle heart.

Bodies molded together, the brush of his chest ghosting across your breasts, the swell of his cock beginning to press against your stomach. The mesmerized spark within your eyes had set his body ablaze, swallowed in the same warmth that had consumed you.

“You’re mine,” Robb murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw, teeth catching against the delicate flesh there. “My wife.” Such use of the affectionate title had roused a familiar slick between your thighs once more.

“As you are mine,” With bated breath, you allowed your legs to coax him in, continuing to flex around his hips. Shadowed hues roved over your countenance, lips peppering themselves across your throat as he adjusted himself. “I am yours.”

The tenderness of your declaration could not be understated, saturated with a yearning that rivaled his own. It was as if the flame raged between you both, demanding to be extinguished. Maneuvering himself, the tip of his cock gliding along your nethers.

A swirl of molten liquid churned violently within the pit of your belly, skin crawling with a neediness that seemed to glisten within your gaze. Robb held you close, steeling himself as he allowed his restraint to shatter altogether.

With a hasty draw of his hips, you felt him swarm inward, beginning to sheathe himself inside of your cunt. A soft whimper escaped you, feeling yourself clench around him out of sheer want. His groan vexed you, fingertips cupping the nape of his neck.

Your heart pounded within your ribcage, so powerful that you thought it might burst through. His stubble scratched against your cheek, providing a pleasant burn that let you know that this was reality. “I need you.” Your plea was met with a subtle groan.

The initial pace was one of urgency, fervent desire running rampant, an uncontrollable wildfire. Robb’s hips had started as sluggish rolls before turning into calculated thrusts, propped up atop the furs with one arm.

Clinging to him as if you were a drowning woman, your husband maintained an ironclad grip upon your thigh, digits kneading into the flesh there. A cacophony of moans tore past your throat, countenance screwed into a blissful expression.

His cock filled you perfectly, as if he were designed by the careful hand of the Seven, molded especially to your liking. Foreheads momentarily brushed together, lips clamoring until they connected in a bruising kiss.

Robb’s hand splayed next to your face, cock rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, the fervor steadily increasing. Your head spun, clouded by lust as your wolfish paramour ravished you in the way that you deserved.

A breathy ‘fuck’ spilled from his lips, caught between wanton sighs and groans of rapture. The warmth between breath and body kept you feeling feverish, and you hitched one leg around his hips, evoking a growl from Robb.

One could never mistake Robb’s roughness for something malicious, each thrust of his hips passionate; bleeding with ardor. It was this intense pace that you so adored, craved — it kept you grounded, made to understand the depths of his growing devotion.

He was invigorated, driven to madness by the sight of you, writhing beneath him. Friction blossomed between you both, an insatiable heat that only served to further his hunger. With another kiss, Robb’s teeth caught against your lower lip, allowing it to linger.

Robb shuddered at the feeling of your cunt, tight and warm around him, clenching around his cock with each roll of your hips. You took him perfectly, as if you were made for him, molded together. Heat prevailed, licking along your spine as his thrusts grew with haste.

The lewd, crass union of intertwined flesh filled his tent, breathy sighs and strenuous groans only adding to the ambiance. Hot breath fanned across your jaw as he pressed a kiss there, teeth nicking the delicate flesh.

A whimper of bliss bubbled from your lips as he became invigorated in his pace, rocking himself into you with a certain fervor. His grip upon your thigh had only strengthened, fingertips threatening to leave bruises in the wake of your lovemaking.

Digits tangled into auburn curls, briefly tugging at his tresses as you kissed him once more, swollen lips begging for another. Robb obliged you without question, hips urging themselves into you over and over again, his cock hitting new depths.

It was sticky and desirous, perspiration glistening upon his brow, features painted by the now-waning embers of the brazier. Even then, his cerulean hues were filled with such devotion, a yearning that had made butterflies erupt within your stomach.

Heat persisted, gazes meeting with such ardor, causing you to shiver beneath his stare. Arousal permeated between your thighs, slick and ambrosial, the scent of coupling invading your senses.

Robb groaned, the blissful noises spilling near your ear as your leg tightened around him, his arm caging you in against him. A coil of heat began to unfurl within the both of you, bodies constantly shifting against the other, an amalgamation of friction.

It was a perfect storm of sensations, ones that made you delirious with desire, crying out to the heavens. A sharp moan punctured your lungs, feeling his cock drive deeper still, until it nearly kissed your womb.

A white-hot haze invaded your senses, nearly seeing stars as your body trembled, slowly settling atop the furs. Robb’s hand held your thigh, reveling in the pliant flesh beneath, flesh that he coveted more than anything else.

With a grunt that spread throughout his sternum, Robb spilled his seed within you; a rush of warmth, one that you shared in. As you reveled in mutual release, hot ropes of spend invaded your cunt, an inevitable duty, that of conception.

Admittedly, Robb wished for it — to see you swollen with his babe, a sizable family that rivaled that of his own. There were discussions of this desire beforehand, one that you had taken keen interest in.

Keeping himself sheathed within you, his cock throbbed, relief beginning to unfurl from his shoulders, a tension now extinguished. In the afterglow, he made sure to pepper you in kisses, rugged scruff scratching against your cheek.

“You’re perfect.” His utterance made you smitten, removing himself from you with a lewd, sticky rush of heat. Robb did not depart from the bed, instead moving to recline against the feather pillow, placing one arm beneath his head.

Basking in the blissful aftermath of your tryst, you moved closer, taking refuge in the crook of his shoulder, crown beneath his chin. “That is one way to strip you of any stress.” You mused, smiling as his chest shook with a chuckle.

“It isn’t the only way,” Robb began, peering down at you with a playful countenance. It was the most relaxed he’d been in days — and it was all because of your very presence. Placing carnal appetites aside, he was delighted to be near you. “But I am not opposed to it.”

An ebullient giggle tumbled from your lips, nose wrinkling with amusement as you curled into his side, fingertips tracing across his chest. He was content to hold you close, digits stroking along the space between your shoulders.

“What of your table? I did not intend to ruin it,” Wooden pieces remained haphazardly scattered across the sprawling map, and in that moment, Robb cared little for it. “I suppose it was difficult to focus on anything else.”

Robb’s laugh was as warm as a midsummer’s day, pearlescent teeth glinting through the waning firelight. “Was it?” He teased, prompting you to smack at his chest — and to that, he caught your wrist, sitting up enough to find your gaze.

“It was.” A blissful shiver gripped you as Robb kissed your palm, savoring the sensation of your fingertips caressing his jaw. He leaned inward, a smirk tugging at either corner of his mouth.

“Plenty of dusk left to ruin it further, before the morrow.” He murmured, a mischievous glint swirling within his cerulean hues. It only served to make you squirm — and that was more than enough, your shared laughter filling the tent.

“Then we mustn’t tarry here.” As the lascivious remark spilled from your lips, Robb had captured your lips in a kiss, disarmingly gentle. It made you yearn for him in ways that you weren’t acquainted with — and you suspected you would be.

On the morrow, it was Roose Bolton who had sharply questioned the misplacement of the wooden figureheads — and Robb was none the wiser.

[short-honey-badger]

Can I please request yandere headcannons for sir crocodile

Ooo Absolutely you may! This one was definitely a lot of funnn! ❤️❤️ I hope you enjoyed!

Being with Crocodile, you already have to be a certain kind of crazy. He doesn't tolerate any kind of disloyalty and especially doesn't appreciate you showing anyone any kind of attention that isn't himself. Crocodile isn't above marching over and physically picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder and carting you away without a word. Just don't expect to ever see said person again.

He's a possessive bastard too, that hand coming down to slap your ass for the world to see, holding you tight as he marches away and back to your shared room where he reminds you just who you belong to. Crocodile has you wrapped around his hook, but he is just as entangled with you.

"Do you think I like it when you disobey me, darling? How many times have I told you that you're mine, hmm?"

But don't think that just because he is a harsh lover with a firm hand that he didn't love you. No Crocodile loved you too much. All you had to do was look at him, lip puckered the slightest bit, and the big man would fold. He was a sucker for that cute, pouty face you'd pull whenever you wanted anything.

Behind closed doors, Crocodile worshiped you. Would lay you out of the bed, naked and bare for his eyes only, whispering his utter devotion into your flesh. His lips were sinful, and his touch burned you from the inside.

"Look at you. So beautiful and bright. My shining star in the dark of night. Look at what you do to me, my love. I would turn the world to dust if only you asked it of me."

You were his everything, and he had made sure that he was your everything, too. Anything you needed, Crocodile made sure that it came from his hand. He couldn't have you thinking that you could get away from him after all. Only he knew what was best for you. He was the one to take care of you.

Crocodile made sure you knew that the world outside of him was a dangerous place and would sit you down in his lap, his arm curled around your hips as he held you close to his chest. There, he would tell you how utterly disgusting anything outside of his presence was, and you would listen to him, clinging to his arm with wide eyes, hanging onto every word.

"Don't worry your pretty head about what is out there, my dear. Everything you need is right here with me. There isn't anything out there but thugs and pirates who'd take advantage of you, and we can't have that, can we?

[rivatar]

“You’re Mine Now”

Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader

W/c: 2.5k (oops)

Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)

A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖

Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️

P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀

Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.

Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.

It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?

Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.

On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.

Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.

…

You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.

To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.

Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.

…

You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.

Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.

“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.

What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???

You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.

The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.

“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.

“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”

What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.

Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.

Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.

The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.

“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.

“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.

He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.

“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.

“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.

You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.

He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.

He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.

He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.

“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.

He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.

All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.

He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.

“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.

“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.

Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.

“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.

He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.

He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.

He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.

“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.

He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.

He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.

“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.

You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”

“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”

Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.

“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.

He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.

“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”

Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.

“You never even touched yourself? Really?”

You shook your head no, barely processing his words.

He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”

And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.

You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.

Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.

“Never seen one of these before, have you?”

You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?

He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.

You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.

“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”

You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.

“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.

You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.

You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.

“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.

You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.

“Beg for it”

“W-What?”

“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”

“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.

He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”

“Please! Please! I need it!”

“Good girl,” he finally praised.

Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.

You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.

“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.

He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.

You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder

“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.

You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.

Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.

“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.

“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”

His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.

He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.

“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.

He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.

“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.

“You’re mine now.”

Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)

[greycloudsinwinter]

Hii, could you write a Yandere Jacaerys Velaryon with a Targaryen reader? (the reader is Viserys and Alicent's daughter)

YANDERE JACAERYS VELARYON X TARGERYAN READER

🌊 you were the second daughter to alicent Hightower born after aemond . Alicent often spoiled you since unlike your other siblings you were close to normal. Normal in being that you didn’t cause trouble or rumours.

🌊your half sister rhaenyra had brought up the discussion of your betrothal to the small council. Alicent desperately tried to keep you away from your half sister and her plain featured sons however failed to do so and as a way to repair the family you and your nephew jacaerys would wed on your sixteenth name day.

🌊jacaerys wanted a marriage full of love and trust so he tried to find out everything about you. however he didn’t know was doing this would cause him to fall into a pit of infatuation.

🌊his obsession grew quickly and just as quickly as it came the stronger it grew. He began to become possessive demanding that as his future bride you should only be around him and no others since they could taint you. He even brought it up to the council staring alicent in the eyes as he said “I would not want my future bride to be tainted by I’ll willed men and bastards” leaving alicent in a fit of rage . As she knew and everyone knew who the true bastards where in king’s landing.he was left successful so you are no longer around any others other then him and your mother…

🌊he forces you to wear red all green is burned in your wardrobe.

🌊anyone dares look at you will be fed to vermax under suspicious circumstances that they had somehow made there way to the dragon pit and went to see a dragon.( they didn’t jacaerys forced them to go down there and vermax feeling his riders feelings did as he was told ).

🌊as soon as you are married he takes you to dragon stone there you can only have his company he doesn’t allow you to have maids he says “I can’t trust them with you you far to important to me “.

🌊he wants an heir really bad so he gets to work if you can’t have a child for some reason he blames it on your mother and the greens .

🌊he does spoil you loads by giving you jewels and trin keys that you may not need but looks gorgeous.

🌊if you have a dragon he will not allow you to ride it he will only allow you to ride with him on his dragon.

🌊if for whatever reason you have to go in public he showers you in pda and I mean SHOWERS you.

🌊when the dance of dragons begins he is frustrated and the news of his brothers death just adds to it . He will be furious and throw tantrums and will say things like “your lucky little star I got you out of there when I did !” And “now can you see why I must keep you here in this room those ignorant usurpers are traitors and would’ve tainted you without a single thought… I saved you “

🌊he will guilt trip you and manipulate you with every trick in the book until your truly obedient for him don’t get me wrong though he will 100% be loyal to you and anything you wish is yours there are only two rules :

1. Stay with him

2. Don’t ever try and leave him.

🌊he is 7/10 not the worse yandere to have but definitely not the best . Overall good luck …

Thank you for the request ❤️❤️

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Henry VIII w/Mistress!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: okay, I literally finished this in 30 minutes because I was so excited. I've been thinking about this since I wrote this reaction and decided to do some hcs! Hope you like it!! ❤️

❝tw: mention of cheating, implied death and murder, manipulation.

❝ 👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.

You came from an English noble family that craved riches and power, like all nobles of that time. Your father was rich and powerful, but he wanted more, he wanted more power and he had a way of getting it.

You were his only daughter, he no longer had legitimate descendants after the death of your mother in childbirth, who was very dear to him. So it was your duty to bring fortune and power to your family.

You grew up knowing that one day you would have to marry some rich man and you were educated from an early age to learn how to be a good wife and give strong sons to your future husband. That has always been your duty and what you were taught to believe.

Until the day you went to the English Court and met the King. You and your father had been invited to celebrate the birth of his son, albeit a bastard. Henry FitzRoy, unfortunately, Catherine of Aragon had not been able to produce a male child for him, which was her main function.

Henry laid eyes on you the first moment he met you during the party. You were so young and shy, standing next to your father and looking around the corners shyly. You caught his attention and he decided he wanted you.

You decided to leave the room where the party was taking place, to get some air and be able to breathe properly. Henry went after you and cornered you against a wall, looking intensely at you.

Your heart skipped a beat when you came face to face with the King of England, but you smiled and lowered your eyes, in a submissive posture. Henry smiled in approval and touched your face affectionately, taking in your gentle, soft features. So perfect and so beautiful. He bent down to your ear and said he would like to see you more often.

Your legs had gone weak but you nodded and he smiled in approval. From that date on, you and Henry began to meet in secret and all of these meetings were platonic, nothing sexual had happened, only a few kisses. Henry found himself enjoying your company more and more and longing for you, forgetting about his other mistresses and focusing entirely on you.

Your father eventually found out about your encounters with Henry and he was ecstatic. Here was the opportunity to gain more power and status if you became Henry's mistress. He was the one who encouraged you to accept the King's advances and become his mistress.

Henry was over the moon when you became his mistress. Now he could have you whenever he wanted. He adored you, your body, your personality, everything about you. You were so sweet and naive, even when he was worshiping you in the privacy of his chambers, being ravaged by the King.

He spoiled you more than anything. Your family had received titles and powers, but the real power and wealth were yours. Henry spoiled you beyond measure, jewelry, dresses, shoes, and even properties were bestowed upon you. Everything you wanted was yours, all you had to do was let yourself be worshiped by the King.

Being his mistress had several perks, and although you had made enemies, none of them really mattered when you were with him. You ended up falling in love and Henry was increasingly consumed by his passion and obsession.

He became more possessive and jealous of you every day, no one could look at you more than once and Henry would end up becoming a tyrant for you. He has no problem eliminating anyone who might affect you. He is yours and you are his. Henry would do anything for you, from abdicating his throne to making you Queen if you asked.

You were satisfied with your status as a mistress, but the idea of ​​becoming Queen of England appealed to you, just as it did to your father. Henry encouraged you to accept this deal, encouraged you to marry him and become his Queen. You hesitated for a while, but after discovering you were pregnant, you agreed to marry Henry.

Henry would do everything to make this happen, that you would become his Queen and the son you carried would be legitimate. He would send letters to the Vatican, and make alliances and enemies, he didn't care, but he would have you as his Queen.

Whatever it takes. If he has to pay a high price for it, so be it. Henry will have you as his Queen and wife.

All the blood spilled, the wars and conflicts were worth it for Henry when he was able to marry you, crown you Queen of England and when he held his son in his arms as you slept peacefully after giving birth.

[kathlare]

is it new years yet?

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: As the clock counts down to midnight on New Year’s Eve in Dubai, Lando and Amelie share a night filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and heartfelt confessions.

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

December 31st, 2024 - Dubai, United Arab Emirates

liked by landonorris, elysiadayman, and others

ameliedayman: i'm getting bored, so can we skip ahead?

View all 38,802 comments

landonorris: skip ahead to me taking that dress off, yeah? → ameliedayman: @landonorris LANDO JESUS CHRIST → landonorris: @ameliedayman what 😇 → minniemills: @ameliedayman girl he didn’t even try to be subtle → jadenhossler: @landonorris bro WE ARE RIGHT HERE

madisonbeer: girl. GIRL. you ate. no crumbs. → ameliedayman: @madisonbeer i tried to bring some ✨drama✨ to the desert 😌

elysiadayman: how do we have the same DNA i don’t understand → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman my villain origin story was just stronger 😌

lanmelforever: lando is 100% down BAD and i respect him for that → notlando: @lanmelforever as he SHOULD be

formulalover: THE CAPTION?? THE DRESS?? yeah she’s mother.

soft4lanmelie: he took that pic. i know it in my bones. → gridgirlxoxo: @soft4amelie he was probably on the floor like a national geographic cameraman

notamclarenstan: i’m not a hater but like… how do you go on vacay and NOT post the bf??? → lanmelie.truther: @notamclarenstan girl, look at her. she’s the main character, always

gridgossip: how do you make the entire city of dubai look like your runway omg → sainzthetics: @gridgossip she’s the final boss of the wags, admit it

georgerussell63: if this is your NYE look i fear for the rest of 2025 → ameliedayman: @georgerussell63 resolution: get hotter. so. you’ve been warned.

4wheeldripped: HOW is Lando even functioning standing next to this

hatewatchqueen: why is she everywhere lately omg → twinkdefenseunit: @hatewatchqueen bc your faves are boring and she’s not ❤️ → lanielandfan: @hatewatchqueen literally open a window babe you’re pressed

simsdriverfan: no bc imagine this walking into a party with YOUR man?? lights out

alex_albon: tell Lando i’m praying for him → ameliedayman: @alex_albon he’s in god’s hands now 🫡

-------------

The Burj Khalifa glimmered against the dark velvet of the Dubai night, fireworks already sparking faintly in the distance as midnight approached. The sprawling rooftop where the party was being held pulsed with music and energy, the crowd swaying under the starlit sky. Lando had his arm around Amelie, pulling her against his side as if she might disappear at any moment. They were both tipsy—no, let’s face it—wasted. Amelie’s laughter bubbled over the music, a sound that had Lando grinning stupidly every time he heard it.

—Lan,— she giggled, twisting slightly to look up at him. Her dress shimmered under the twinkling fairy lights, a sleek gold number that hugged her body perfectly. —If you keep holding me like that, I’m going to think you’re scared I’ll leave.—

Lando’s fingers tightened on her waist, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. —I’m not scared, love. I just can’t help myself. You’re too fucking beautiful tonight. And every bastard here knows it.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed, the heat rising beneath her golden skin. —You’re ridiculous.—

—And you love it,— he shot back with a smirk, his free hand sliding down to rest on her hip.

She swatted at his chest, but her fingers lingered, curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. —I do,— she admitted, her voice softer now. —But you’re being clingy.—

—I’m not clingy,— he retorted, though his grip on her said otherwise. —I’m possessive. There’s a difference.—

She raised an eyebrow at him. —Lan, you’ve been kissing me every five minutes.—

—Not enough, if you ask me.— And with that, he dipped his head and kissed her again, his lips capturing hers in a way that made her knees buckle. Amelie could taste the faint hint of tequila on him, but it didn’t matter. Lando kissed her like he’d been waiting all night, like the countdown didn’t matter, and the world outside their bubble didn’t exist.

When they broke apart, Amelie was breathless, her fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck. —You’re insufferable.—

—And yet, here you are,— he teased, leaning his forehead against hers. His voice dropped, a little slurred but sincere. —How did I get so bloody lucky with you, Ames?—

She smiled, brushing a hand over his cheek. —Maybe because you’re charming. When you’re not being a pain in the ass.—

—Charming, huh?— He grinned, the boyish dimple in his cheek deepening. —I’ll take it.—

The music shifted, a countdown beginning to ripple through the crowd. Ten seconds to midnight. Lando tugged her closer, his hands sliding around her waist, fingers splaying across the small of her back.

—Ready for the best kiss of your life, Ames?— he asked, his voice thick with amusement and promise.

Amelie tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. —Bold of you to assume, Lan.—

—Oh, I’m assuming.— He ducked his head, his lips brushing against hers as the crowd roared, —Three, two, one... Happy New Year!—

Fireworks exploded overhead, the sky lighting up in bursts of gold and red and blue. But Amelie didn’t see them. She felt them instead, in the way Lando kissed her like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted. His hands roamed her back, pulling her against him as if he couldn’t get enough.

Somewhere in the crowd, phones were raised, capturing the moment, but neither of them cared. They were too lost in each other.

When they finally broke apart, Amelie rested her forehead against his, laughing softly. —You’re such a showoff.—

—Didn’t hear you complaining,— he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. His voice dropped, a little husky. —God, Ames, you’re perfect.—

Her heart twisted at the rawness in his tone. —You’re drunk.—

—Not drunk enough to not mean it,— he countered. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, his gaze locking with hers. —I love you.—

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but somehow, in this moment, it felt different. More real.

—I love you too,— she whispered.

—Say it again,— he demanded, his grin turning playful.

Amelie laughed, looping her arms around his neck. —I love you, you idiot.—

—God, I’m never letting you go,— he muttered, kissing her again.

As the fireworks died down, they stayed wrapped in each other, swaying slightly to the music. Lando’s hands were restless, sliding up and down her back as he murmured teasing, slightly inappropriate comments against her ear.

—You’re killing me in this dress, Ames. Do you even realize how good you look?—

—Stop it,— she scolded, though the smile on her face betrayed her.

—I mean it. You’re a fucking goddess.—

—And you’re a lightweight,— she teased, tapping his nose.

—Maybe. But I’m your lightweight,— he quipped, earning another laugh.

They knew people were watching, recording, maybe even speculating, but for once, they didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them talk. They were happy, and that was all that mattered.

As the night stretched on, Amelie couldn’t help but reflect on how far they’d come. From friends to something more, to heartbreak and back again. It hadn’t been easy, but standing here with Lando, his arms around her and his lips finding hers every chance he got, she knew it had been worth it.

—Happy New Year, Lan,— she whispered, brushing her lips against his.

—Happy New Year, Ames,— he replied, his voice soft but sure. —This year’s going to be ours. I can feel it.—

And for the first time in a long time, she believed him.

-------------

liked by landoismybaby, kiki.f1, and others

f1gossipgrid: Lando and Amelie via @tombale46’s Instagram story — blurry but it looks like the Dubai NYE party had a very familiar guest list 👀✨ First spotted of 2025 for our fave paddock duo? We’ll take it.

View all 9,891 comments

maxie_willdrive: blurry? yes. iconic? also yes. → lanmieluver88: @maxie_willdrive they could be 3 pixels and i'd still cry over them 😭 → lanmieluvbot: @maxie_willdrive blurry pics > no pics

oscarpiastrno1: damn even in potato quality they’re serving → ameliescurlz: @oscarpiastrino1 the ✨aura✨ is unmatched

lanmelieupdates: my toxic trait is thinking this was posted just for us

sainzsimp04: still can’t believe they’re real sometimes → kiki.f1: @sainzsimp04 it’s giving movie couple who make it to the end credits 😭

softieforlan: why is lando grabbing her like she’s gonna evaporate 😭 → chaosqu4drant: @softieforlan he knows what the Dubai boys are like 😭 protect your girl king → ameliesthighgap: @softieforlan no bc if MY man didn’t hold me like that?? I’d leave

oscarpiasty: these blurry pics got more chemistry than half the grid → maxieloverrrr: @oscarpiasty be serious rn 💀

lanmeliesgf: lando was FOR REAL whispering sweet nothings while fireworks went off 😭😭😭

stoppostingpls: they drunk in dubai again huh 💀 → chaoticlan: @stoppostingpls not again bro 😭 they can’t behave for 2 seconds

antiwagslol: can we not glorify this relationship? she’s just a singer. stay in your lane. → lanmeliesworld: @antiwagslol crying bc she’s literally more famous than half the grid 😭

tiredofthegrid: lando out here acting like he won the championship just by getting the girl 😭 → ameliesangles: @tiredofthegrid he DID. this was his driver of the day moment tbh →safeforlan: @tiredofthegrid bro he bagged her TWICE. icon behavior.

quadrantfangz: this is why he drives fast—so no one else can catch her 💅

landoismybaby: my man is in love™ and tipsy and it’s SO fun for me personally → lanmillennial: @landoismybaby i’m actually emotional can they adopt me

-------------

They barely made it back to the hotel room.

Somehow, between Lando drunkenly trying to unlock the wrong door three times and Amelie tripping over her heels while laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, they stumbled their way into the suite, giggling like teenagers who had just stolen a bottle of vodka from their parents.

—You’re the worst lockpicker I’ve ever seen,— Amelie said, collapsing backward onto the plush bed in a glittering mess of gold fabric and tangled curls.

Lando dropped the keycard onto the side table like it had personally offended him. —That lock was dodgy. I swear it moved.—

He kicked off his shoes and half-crawled, half-flopped onto the bed beside her, groaning dramatically as he landed. —I deserve a medal for getting us here in one piece. Heroic effort, really.—

Amelie turned her head toward him, her lashes fluttering as she smiled, tipsy and soft. —You almost faceplanted in the elevator.—

—Almost being the key word. I stayed upright. That’s balance, baby.— He tried to wink but ended up blinking both eyes like a confused owl.

She laughed, high and breathless, rolling onto her side to nuzzle into his chest. Her hand slid lazily beneath his shirt, fingers cool on his warm skin. —You smell like tequila and fireworks,— she murmured.

—You smell like trouble,— he murmured back, eyes closing as he pressed a sloppy kiss to her temple. His hand wandered, fumbling clumsily with the zipper on the back of her dress. —Wanna get this off you. Not even in a sexy way, just... it looks uncomfortable.—

Amelie snorted. —You trying to seduce me or perform a public service?—

—Both, obviously,— he grinned, finally managing to unzip the gold dress halfway before his hand sort of gave up and fell limply onto her hip. —God, you’re so soft. Are you made of clouds or am I just smashed?—

She was laughing so hard now she had to bury her face in the crook of his neck, her shoulders shaking. —Lan, I swear to God, we are too drunk.—

—No such thing,— he said automatically, before correcting himself. —Okay, maybe a tiny bit drunk.—

He shifted onto his side to face her, their noses brushing. Her dress had slipped slightly off one shoulder, exposing the smooth line of her collarbone. His fingers traced it in awe, but with zero coordination. Instead of a smooth touch, it was more like a toddler trying to gently pet a cat.

Amelie wriggled, shrieking with laughter. —That tickled!— She shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrist and pulled her closer, lips finding the side of her jaw in a mess of kisses that were more teeth than finesse.

—God, Ames, you’re so hot... why are you so hot? It’s illegal,— he muttered, trying to kiss down her neck and promptly missing entirely, his lips smushing into her hair instead.

She wheezed. —You just kissed my scalp.—

—Still sexy,— he argued.

They kissed then, messy and uncoordinated, their teeth knocking together twice before they gave up and just started laughing again, faces buried against each other.

—Okay, okay,— Amelie gasped, breathless, tears streaming from how hard she was laughing. —We’re not having sex right now. We’ll break a nose. Or a hip.—

—Speak for yourself, I’m in peak physical condition,— Lando slurred, attempting a flex that ended with him accidentally elbowing himself in the ribs.

She wheezed and fell back onto the bed. —Oh my god, we’re idiots.—

Lando flopped beside her again, both of them still partially clothed, breathless and tangled together in a puddle of warmth and gold sequins. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was just beginning to bleed soft pinks and oranges, the earliest signs of sunrise painting the horizon.

Amelie blinked up at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling with post-giggle exhaustion. Lando's arm was thrown haphazardly across her stomach, his hand resting just above her belly button, thumb drawing sleepy little half-circles on her skin.

—The sun’s coming up,— she murmured, voice husky from laughter and alcohol.

Lando turned his head, squinting at the warm glow beginning to seep into the room. —Rude of it, honestly. I was just getting comfortable.—

Amelie smirked, then reached down to tug the zipper of her dress the rest of the way, wriggling out of it while still lying on her back. Lando made a sound that might’ve been a groan of admiration or just his brain short-circuiting again.

—Okay, calm down, Casanova,— she said, flinging the dress off the side of the bed. It landed with a soft whisper somewhere near the minibar. She reached for one of the fluffy hotel robes and sloppily shrugged it on, the sash dragging behind her like a drunken cape.

Lando reached out lazily, fingers pawing at her sleeve. —Where are you going?—

Amelie paused, looking over at him with a playful grin. —I'm taking a bath. Are you coming with me?—

Lando blinked slowly, still trying to process the question as his brain took a moment to catch up with his alcohol-soaked body. He sat up, his messy curls flopping around as he squinted at her.

—A bath?— he asked, his voice thick with sleep and tequila. —But we just... you know, I mean...— His gaze dropped to the bed between them, a lazy grin spreading across his face. —I’m not sure I can be trusted around water right now, Ames.—

Amelie laughed softly, her head lolling back against the pillow as she gave him a wicked smile. —Well, maybe it’ll help you sober up. Besides, I’m not entirely drunk. Just... mostly. And a bath sounds nice and relaxing, right?—

Lando looked like he was about to argue, but the idea of a warm bath, the soft light of the morning creeping in through the windows, and Amelie in that robe was far too tempting. Plus, he couldn't deny the fact that he was starting to feel like his brain was slowly returning to normal.

He grinned, finally pushing himself up from the bed with a lazy stretch. —Alright, alright. You win. But I swear to God, if I slip and drown, it's on you.—

Amelie chuckled, watching him slowly get to his feet, clearly still trying to shake off the last of the tequila haze. She gestured toward the bathroom, where the marble tub sat in the center of the room, large enough to fit the both of them comfortably. —You’re a professional driver, Lan. If anyone’s going to not drown, it’s you.—

Lando rolled his eyes dramatically, but the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips made it clear he wasn’t mad about it. —Let’s just hope the bath doesn’t decide to race me. I’m sure it’s got a few tricks up its sleeve.—

With that, they made their way into the bathroom, their steps slow and a little wobbly as they navigated the space. Lando lazily twisted the faucet, letting the water run hot, steam rising and filling the air with the smell of warm luxury. The soft light from the room cast gentle shadows on their faces, highlighting their post-party disheveledness.

Amelie stood there, watching him fumble with the taps for a moment before she suddenly reached over, pulling him into a loose hug from behind from behind, her arms wrapping around his waist as she rested her cheek against the bare skin of his back.

—You’re kind of cute like this,— she mumbled, her voice muffled against him. —Confused. Half-naked. Steaming up a bathtub like it’s rocket science.—

Lando snorted, tossing a look over his shoulder. —I’m drunk, not dead. I still have feelings.—

—Aw, feelings?— she teased, lips curving into a grin against his skin. —That tequila’s really bringing out your sensitive side.—

He turned in her arms, lazily dragging her robe sash with him as he looped it around his fingers. —You bring out my sensitive side, Ames. The tequila just gives it a microphone.—

She laughed, eyes crinkling, and leaned up to press a slow, clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth. It missed entirely, landing somewhere on his jaw instead.

—We are not doing very well with aim tonight,— she whispered.

—Speak for yourself,— he said, trying to kiss her properly, only for their noses to bump again. He pulled back and blinked at her, serious for a second. —Okay, real talk. If I try to seduce you again and fall face-first into this tub, promise you’ll still date me.—

Amelie giggled, tugging the robe tighter around herself. —It’d probably be the most on-brand way for you to get a concussion. But yeah, I’ll still date you. Even if you have a dramatic bathtub-related downfall.—

They both laughed again, then sobered a little as Lando stepped into the rising steam and dipped his hand in the water.

—Damn, this actually feels amazing,— he said. —Like, borderline life-changing.—

—Told you,— she murmured, stepping in behind him. She let the robe drop to the floor in a whisper of white terrycloth before climbing into the tub opposite him.

The warmth instantly enveloped her, sinking into her skin and bones. She let out a sigh that sounded like her entire soul was exhaling.

Lando slid in too, groaning dramatically. —Holy shit, yes. This is better than sex.—

Amelie raised a brow, smirking at him across the water. —You really want to go on record with that? Bold move.—

—Okay, maybe not better, but like... it's in the top five.— He sank further until only his head was poking above the waterline. —Bath. Tacos. Sex. More tacos. F1 podium.—

She laughed, sliding her foot along his leg beneath the water. —Tacos beat me?—

He pretended to think. —Tacos don’t laugh when I get a cramp.—

—Once! That happened one time!— she splashed water at him, and he yelped, raising his arms to shield himself.

—This is abuse,— he whined, but he was smiling, soft and sleepy. Their laughter faded into a lull, the kind of silence that felt full rather than empty.

They sat there, letting the warmth soak through them, both still hazy with alcohol and love and the surreal stillness of morning. The city outside began to stir—faint car horns, the shifting light, the occasional echo of early birds.

Lando reached across the water, blindly fumbling until he found her hand. He laced their fingers together, wet skin slipping slightly, and sighed contentedly.

—You know,— he murmured, eyes on the ceiling, —this wasn’t how I thought the night would end. But I kind of love it more this way.—

Amelie turned her head toward him, smiling faintly. —Yeah?—

—Yeah. The sex can wait. But this? You. Me. A bath we probably don’t deserve. That laugh of yours still stuck in my head.— He glanced at her, his gaze suddenly clear despite the remnants of alcohol. —This is the stuff I’ll remember.—

She felt her chest tighten in that way it always did when he said things like that—simple, sincere, and completely unfiltered.

—I’ll remember it too,— she whispered. Then, teasing: —Even if you did kiss my scalp and call it sexy.—

Lando groaned. —We agreed not to bring that up again.—

—We did not.—

They both dissolved into quiet giggles, their hands still linked, their legs tangled under the water, and the Dubai sunrise painting them in liquid gold.

Eventually, Amelie rested her head on the edge of the tub, eyes fluttering closed. —Wake me up if I drown.—

—Only if you wake me up first,— Lando replied, already sliding lower into the water beside her.

And just like that, they let themselves drift—tipsy, tangled, and wrapped in steam and love—while the world outside continued to turn.

[shadowsingercassia]

And I am Admiring You

Azrielxreader

Summary: baking cookies with Azriel bc I needed some fluff

Words: 621

Warnings: none!

-------------------------☆-------------------------

“Azzie!” he heard you call from the other side of the small cabin you had in Illyria. Immediately, he shot up to his feet, his shadows rushing across the house. Laughter soon filled the empty sitting room and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

With determined steps, he strode to the kitchen, where you had collected ingredients. “What are you doing here?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “I’m baking cookies, are you that oblivious?” In truth, Azriel thought that you was the oblivious one. He was being so direct of his feelings towards you and yet, here you stood, innocently blinking your eyelashes at him and telling him you were going to bake cookies.

“And why did I have to come all this way to the kitchen?” Rolling your eyes, you took hold of his hand. His heart leapt at the contact but he did his best not to show it. The tips of his ears took a pinkish shade and he let himself be dragged by you.

“We are baking cookies,” you smiled and he swore his breath hitched. The way you said ‘we’ so simply made him want to kiss you. But the only thing stopping him was his own fear. He thought that he would overstep the lines of your friendship and tear everything apart.

As you dropped his hand, he could feel the warmth that lingered from your touch, but he still wished you were still holding his hand. You started explaining how to bake cookies and how Rhysand’s mother taught you a few weeks ago. Azriel took in every word, treasuring it as if it was the last thing he would ever hear, memorizing every word.

“Are you listening?” you asked and Azriel flinched back, placing a hand over his heart in mock-offense. “Of course I was listening! Very intensely, I must add,” he told you, each word exaggerated. Your soft laughter followed and he wished he could bottle that up as well, wanting to hear it forever.

Magnificent, you was utterly magnificent.

And he was utterly captivated by you.

Without saying another word, your hand reached for the butter, cutting a piece with a knife. Azriel’s shoulders tensed up. What if you accidentally hurt yourself? He really had to stop over thinking, he was so overprotective, surely if he interfered, he would confuse you.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, trying not to intervene and seem like a possessive bastard. “Can you grab a bowl from the cabinet?” you asked, your gaze still fixed to the butter you were cutting into little pieces. So it would stir easier, he remembered your words.

He reached for the cabinet, Azriel pulled it open but his shadows beat him to it and handed you the bowl first. His lips pulled into a frown and he heard you holding back a chuckle.

They continued like this, baking together, but it was mostly you doing everything while Azriel sat and admired you. At least his shadows helped you.

After what seemed like one second for Azriel but like eternity for you, the cookies were ready. Instinctively, his hand reached out but you slapped it away. It stung as he pulled it back, cradling it with his free hand. “Ow,” he said and narrowed his eyes at you, but you could see right through his bluff.

“I just don’t want you to burn yourself,” you told him nonchalantly.

“So now you care about me, angel?”

You shrug, “perhaps.”

“You’re being dramatic, Azzie,” you added, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smile.

Azriel reciprocated it, smiling at you genuinely and you memorized it, keeping the image deep into your heart.

He shrugs, “perhaps.”

-------------------------☆-------------------------

Their Spot Christmas/Solstice drabbles taglist: none yet!

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc @anarchiii @barb00235

comment '⭐️' to be added to my 'Their Spot Christmas/Solstice drabbles taglist!

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[physics-of-one-piece]

Part 10 of Punk Hazard Dub watch party

This is where Dub Doffy makes his post-timeskio debut so I shall be tagging my Doffy moots

607

Sanji making Vergo fight seriously hell yeah Sanji

Here comes Laaaw, to the SAD room

Law is about to fuck Doffy’s entire life up and I’m giggling and kicking my feet. Go, Laaaw! Go, baby! I’m so proud of you! 🥹🥹🥹

“My captain hates guys like you.” Well said, Sanji.

Just wanna let everyone know that Caesar is taking even more oxygen from the room by setting fire to it.

“One breath’s all I need to kick your gassy ass.” Yeah, I love dub Luffy

Jet Gattling is my fav of Luffy’s attacks.

Damn, he almost had him.

AAAA DOFFY PIC, DOFFY PIC! It was so short hang on gonna skip back..

LOOK AT HIM!

Hubby 😊😊🥹🥹 look at him looking all menacing and cast in purple and pink and evil

Okay…He does look kinda scary. Would totally kiss him though.

“Joker would kill me if I allowed that.” Wait, what? I mean, Doffy rarely blames his crew if they fuck up (for ex. Buffalo & Baby 5), but then again…

“You mean the pink bird guy from the war?” And this, people, is why I love DofLuffy as both platonic and romantic. COME ON, THAT’S SO CUTE OF LUFFY TO CALL HIM. Yeh, I easily ship chars, leave me alone, Doffy & Luffy are cute

Law is so smart, go Law, he’s in the SAD room fuck it up Law (laughs while eating popcorn)

Vergo calling Law a “crazy bastard” now that’s RICH.

Dub Law’s hum before he smiles 😳😳

Dub Doffy’s post-timeskip debut is next ep LET’S GOO

608

YEEESSS HAHAHAHA YEEEESSSS (laughing maniacally)

“Unless you can give me a kiss from your captain, then I don’t care!” Me to the Donquixote Pirates.

It’s here it’s here it’s here, Vergo’s holding the Doffy snail AAAAAA here it comes here it comes here it comes

“Law’s going after SAD?” OOOoooh here he is, oh boy he already sounds annoyed as fuuck

“I see…” I’m scared now.

Dressrosa! 🎉🎉🎉

Dub Doffy’s laugh, I love it.

DUB DOFFY LOUNGING AT THE POOL.

“Well, can’t say I’m shocked.” Dub Doffy 😍😍😍🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️

DID DUB DOFFY HAVE TO DO THAT EXHALE? SIR, IT’S ONLY 2 MINUTES INTO YOUR POST-TIMESKIP DEBUT AND YOU’RE ALREADY GOT MY HEART IN YOUR STRINGS

“That’s some gratitude. I treated that punk like a brother and this is what I get?” Gosh, he sounds like such a noble and such a pompous swaggering guy but at the same time his voice has this smoothness that totally gets the ladies and it fits him so much and the way he says his words and accents some 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 just… Dub Doffy is fckn perfect. Cocky, snarky, noble, would trick you, would seduce you… he checks all the boxes!

“A pity, huh?” Okay I’m scared now. Just the way Dub Doffy switches from playful to “I hate to say it Vergo but you’re gonna have to kill little Law” is fckn awesome.

Yeah, Dub Law learned the smooth talk from Dub Doffy 100%, no questions asked.

“He made it to the SAD room, you said?”

Baby 5! I like her yells of rage I guess.

“Here’s what I’d do if I were him. I’d destroy everything in sight.” Damn you Dub Doffy why you so sexy 😭😭

“Then I’d kidnap Caesar, I think.” Oooh, we have a difference here. Sub Doffy said “kill Caesar”, interesting change, cus even in official manga I think he says “kill Caesar”

Here, have some silly Doffy upside down he’s so silly. Silly flamingo

“Scratch that. Maybe just kill him.” I stand corrected 🤣🤣

I like Dub Baby 5. Baby 5, honey, your papa’s just trying to protect you from the ugly predatory men. Are his ways of doing it crazy? Yes. Are they effective and send a signal for predatory men to back off? Yes. It ain’t his fault predators keep proposing to you. And we all know he’s no therapist and not good at verbal communication and just goes with actions over words.

Gosh, Dub Doffy sounds like he would be so protective and possessive and so overbearing to Reader and lovebomb you and spoil you and I am so HERE for it, give him to me. Ooh, I got a fic for you all that I now know is Dub Doffy front and center cus it's exactly this what I described - Puppeteer by @froggiewrites OOOH IMMA GO RE-READ IT NOW WITH DUB DOFFY IN MY HEAD OOOH

“Frankly, if Law’s able to pull that off, then we’ve got a problem, Vergo.”

“To be specific, it’s a problem for me because it’s my business.” Giving such mafia leader vibes and I am here for it.

Oh, Machvise has a kind of a cute voice. I like how they implemented the sub -in but made it for Dub. These are the details I appreciate!

“Misfortune never comes alone. So my misfortune… heh… is gonna be his next.” I love Dub Doffy.

Giolla and Lao G sound great, too.

“I know this will be difficult for you, Vergo -” yeah, sure it will, just like it was difficult for him to beat up your biological younger brother 🙄 “But I need you to take care of Law. Also, make it as cruel and gruesome as you can manage.” love how his voice is so smooth while he is talking about torturing someone to death. Yaaaaay 😭😭

“I want him to suffer.” 😭😭

“What the hell are you talking about? You don’t have a camera.” Dub Doffy is so funny, I love him

Vergo not taking a single photo in his life ahahahahahaha

“Hahaha, I like that idea even better.” Yeah, Dub Doffy nails it all, the chuckles & laugh, the words, 10/10. I mean, I knew cus I watched pre-timeskip Dub Doffy scenes but this is where we get more of him so it’s great.

“He acts stupid but I’ve seen him use Conqueror’s Haki.” He really stepped on Luffy and I’m laughing hahaha Doffy insulting Luffy’s intelligence willl never get old for me and it seems it sticks in the Dub, too. Good!

“Baby 5 here is armed to the teeth and itching for a fight.” That’s… certainly a way to put “my adoptive daughter is trying to kill me bcs I killed another one of her predators”

“Come back to Dressrosa immediately.” YOU DON’T NEED TO TELL ME TWICE, DUB DOFFY, I’M RUUUNNIIIN’

Final marks? Dub Doffy is sexy as hell, he climbed to #1 Dub, Law is now #2 bcs of that but he’ll probably drop to #3 cus Dub Cora sounds amazing 😍😍😍

Dub Doffy is definitely the sort that would fool me. Sub Doffy I’m on my guard from the get-go cus of his voice cus it’s so deep and confident, commanding and just overwhelming it tells you “I’m a god, get on your knees.”, but Dub Doffy is more like “Come on, darling, won’t you make me happy and get on your knees for me?” and both are PERFECT. Dub Doffy captures that charming essence that people get tricked by. By people, I mean ME.

I will say when Sub Doffy softens his voice (and it happens) he is charming as well and WOULD trick me too. Whichever situation, it’s a lose-lose for me, is all I’m saying.

You can tell Dub Doffy gets the ladies. Like… you can TELL from his voice.

Both Sub & Dub Doffy are perfect, they both have their own strengths. I’m just curious how Dub Doffy will go when he LOSES his patience and all those veins pop. I hope it’s as terrifying as Sub Doffy. We shall see.

That’s it from Dub Doffy this ep. Sexy sexy business evil man.

609

THIS BASTARD VERGO DID NOT JUST CALL LAW HIS DOG. OH, YOU BASTARD. YOU’RE GOING DOWN! Law is not anyone’s dog.

“Too damn… smart for your own good.” That’s a bad thing for you, I think, not a bad thing for Law.

Oh, Doffy’s OST is playing!

“They tend to die at a young age.” He did not just jab Law with both Law’s former disease of him “dying at a young age” and Rosinante also dying at a young age of 26.

“Smartass look” WHO DO YOU THINK TAUGHT HIM THAT LOOK? TAKE IT UP WITH YOUR BOSS, VERGO. Fckn hell.

“Just like last time.” Wow, you fckn coward, you were happy to make a sick, dying little helpless kid tremble and cry, you feel PROUD of that? You sick fuck, I wish Law continued torturing you before you died.

Law 😭😭

“Sometimes it’s the smartest, not the strongest, who wins the fight.” Can I just say, Doflamingo & his crew trained the kids so well. Like, good job on them for that. Genuinely. A clap for Doffy.

She’s freezing Luffy yikes

Oh, Luffy let out a Conqueror I think. I’m surprised Monet didn’t faint, which again props to the training, nice.

And Luffy falls down the floor, but his idea was good. He couldn’t have thought there was gonna be a HUGE DROP.

“It’s a hunk of junk.” I love Dub Law

I hate watching Law get beat up

His hat 😭😭

“Here’s a Counter Shock!” YEAH, LAW, GET HIS ASS, LAW!

YEAH!

Oh, Law made him BLEED out of the mouth and nose, YESSS.

Dub Law’s scream of pain, omg 😭😭😭

Smoker on the scene.

Poor Law 😭😭

“There’s so long I can look at trash before I have to take it out. Especially filthy pirates like you!” Badass

Heart Pirate Rosinante or Vice Admiral Rosinante vs Vergo would be even better but I’ll take what I can get. The fact Vergo made it to Vice Admiral when he’s fckn scum while Rosi — who is the best of what marines stand for — didn’t oh that boils my blood 😡😡

(once more I like Vergo I just don't like when he hurts Law which is 90% of his role in the story)

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @queenmimi2817 @daydreamer-in-training @ohnomyhooves @wrennyx @doffyslittledove @shanalikeanna @froggiewrites

[madame-fear]

My lovely lady wife,

I think we know what I’m about to request for. A little Aemond fic on what I told you because Aemond being possessive..🤭

Arguing over reader having a dance with Lucerys or Aegon, but then turns sweet after reader snaps at him, telling him that she’s devoted to him?

Pretty please? (I love you!!❤️)

*ೃ༄ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks! : My sweet darling Vinca, an honour to receive your requests as always! ❤ Please enjoy this and hope it was what you expected. I was inspired by the dialogue you sent me on some of the dialogues in here 🤭 Ily sm honey !! 💕 — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 1.6k ꒰ა ✧ additional note ; title is based on the song “come to me” by björk. 💗

— pairing : jealous/possesive!aemond targaryen x reader — genre : a bit of arguing, but then turns into fluff.

“It was just one dance, Aemond!” your shouting echoed through the dimly lit halls, going after Aemond, behind of him.

Patience was a virtue that lately began to heavily hang from a thin string for the One Eyed Prince; and the arrival of his bastard nephews, the Velaryon boys, back again to King’s Landing wasn’t making things any easier for him... And mostly, for his usual possesiveness around you.

Not that the presence of both boys itself bothered him. Quite the contrary, his natural self around them was to tease and make them upset on purpose, constantly reminding them how everyone knew they were merely bastard sons; “Strong” boys, as he would refer to them. But the problem was, when the betrothal dinner had arrived.

While Helaena took the hand of the eldest Velaryon, Jacaerys, for a dance after she made a subtle remark on how her brother-husband Aegon ignored her, Lucerys stood up from his seat, and offered his own hand to you for a dance. Such act was merely out of the usual polite and gentleness that identified the future Lord of Driftmark, but Aemond couldn’t help but silently seethe with overwhelming jealousy at the sight of you giggling and dancing with Lucerys Velaryon.

Lucerys. His bastard nephew. The one that had made fun of him with a pig as a young boy when Aemond had not yet claimed Vhagar, and the same nephew that had taken out his eye. How could someone as himself so pridefully offer his hand out to you, out of all the people, right in front of his face? And what was worse, was that YOU had taken it, only to notoriously have fun with the young Velaryon bastard.

And that could only lead to you having to chase after him through the large halls of King’s Landing, shouting out his name for him to listen to what you had to say. His usual stoic face now shouted an expression of pure grimace, feeling as if he were to lose himself to a burdening sensation of posessiveness towards you.

Aemond couldn’t even bare when his brother Aegon was too drunk to the point he started flirting with you, or using sexual innuendos — but seeing you dance so gracefully with Lucerys, the nephew he despised wholeheartedly, was the least of things Aemond could possibly tolerate.

“Aemond!” you kept shouting, “Seven Hells, would you even care to listen to me?!” his steps had turned nearly into harsh stomping, feeling your own legs get tired from the heavy rushing towards him.

As you were nearly reaching him, trying to place your hand on his arm to catch his attention, the One Eyed prince abruptly stopped on his steps and turned around to face you. Out of surprise at his sudden actions, you made a few steps backwards.

“I don’t need to listen to anything.” he retorted, with a monotone, yet cold voice tone. The stare on his blue eye hinted a fiery jealousy that abruptly ignited on him, you crossed your arms tightly against your chest. “And most certainly, I don’t need to hear you talking about how you accepted the hand of my bastard nephew to dance with him right in front of me!” his voice raised its tone, notoriously sounding angrier by the minute.

You had to admit, you were both frustrated and surprised by his sudden outburst. While you knew Aemond could be rather overprotective of you — especially ever since you had taken care of him after the incident with his eye —, you had never seen him acting in such... A possesive manner. “To which, I remind you: he owes me his eye.”

Your lips were partly open, about to protest against his sayings, as your brows knitted in confusion at the way Aemond behaved towards the situation. “I was only being polite to him, Aemond!” you snapped at him, shouting louder. “What was supposed to do, turn him down right in front of everyone?!”

You understood that Lucerys was certainly trying to be as polite and gentle as his brother Jacaerys was with women, and you saw no issue with that. But apparently Aemond did.

“You should have, yes!” your hands both went to your face, immediatly letting your head fall against your palms, releasing a muffled frustrated huff at his answer. You then fluttered your eyes open, going back to face him. Your heart loudly pounded against your chest from the adrenaline of the situation, loudly arguing with one another; being loud enough as for your voices to echo around the halls.

“I can’t believe you,” you said, with your eyes furrowed. “That was literally the most attention I have ever paid to any of the Velaryon boys!” pointing your index finger at him, you continued. “And you are making such a fuss over that?” while his lips opened to speak against you, you rapidly interrupted him, feeling bold enough to confront him. How could Aemond be so oblivious to the way you were entirely devoted to him, and only him?

“It was one dance.” you remarked, lowering your quivering voice. “And while you may have lost an eye, Aemond, that does not mean you are blind.” hearing your words made his grimly jealous expressions turn into an intrigued one. You sighed, allowing the hand that was pointing at him with your finger to fall by your side in a swift manner.

“I only accepted the dance out of politeness, but did I kiss Lucerys, or anyone else? No, I have not.” you began remarking, feeling relieved that Aemond seemed to attentively listen to you without making too much of a fuss. “Did I fuck him, or anyone else? Yet again, I have not.” a soft huff spurred from your nose, looking at him in disbelief.

“Do I ever stroll with anyone else in the gardens, spending hours talking with one another, like I do with you? No, I don’t.” leisurely, his face softened, hearing how the tense atmosphere seemed to switch into a more tranquil one. “I have never read to anyone else in the gardens, except with you. I have never cheered for anyone else in their swordtraining, except with you.” you continued, trying to discreetly build the point to him.

“I could never spend hours comforting anyone else, like I comforted you when you lost your eye. I have never cared for anyone else like I genuinely care for you. I never even cared to fix my gaze on someone that isn’t you, Aemond.” the initial angry frustration softly washed away from you, even if you could still feel the thrill of it pumping through your veins.

Perhaps it was true. He could have overreacted just a little bit — more than extremely, actually — to the situation. But how could he not be possesive over you, when you had such remarking, exceptional qualities that any man could possibly long for in a woman?

It had always been you the one braiding his hair playfully, it was you the one who comforted him whenever he felt angry, or outraged... It was you the one who always cheered and clapped for him when his skills in swordtraining became better each time; occasionally tossing Ser Criston’s own sword to the ground merely to impress you, and hear you root for him proudly.

Walking a few steps towards him, you lifted your sight to his eye, staring profoundly at him. A soft, quivering sigh escaped from him. Faintly, a rosy tint crept on his pale skin gently. “How can you not realise, it is you the one I truly adore? The one I am most devoted to?” the sound of your voice nearly made him melt, especially when you raised your hand to his cheek, and tenderly stroked it with the tip of your thumb.

A scoff spurred from his rosy lips, with a little sheepish grin tuggig at the corner of his lips. He was used to being possesive and jealous over you, but those feelings of adoration — now mutually felt — were always kept to himself. The One Eyed Prince was absolutely clueless on how to express his feelings towards you, to which, he preferred that saying nothing at all would be much better.

“I should have known it sooner.” he muttered, sounding a slight tone of disbelief at himself. It was just too obvious for someone such as himself to not realise. You scoffed, smiling at him as you shook your head lightly. A certain pride filled you, as your skin could feel his own heated cheek from the fluster under your touch.

Without hesitating, you tiptoed as his presence towered your own, and your free hand went to cup his other cheek. Awkwardly — yet a bit needily — his arms went around your waist sweetly, pulling you closer to his body. Fluttering your eyes shut, your lips locked against his own. And Gods, your lips were as sweet-tasting as he had always imagined they would be.

You kept your lips pressed against his own for what seemed an eternity, despite it being a minute, almost. His way of kissing you was soft, yet, it became a bit more deep and intense as the time progressed. Reluctantly, you had to pull away from him, despite him trying to inconsciously encourage you to keep going.

As you pulled apart, with your hands on his cheeks, a prideful grin was seen on his lips. Perhaps being jealous and possesive had its own perks, after all. A soft chuckle spurred from your lips gracefully, moving your hand lower to caress his jaw with the tip of your finger. There was something sweet in seeing how he could act just like a fiery, possesive dragon, but turn into an endearing puppy that melted at your touch. At that touch of yours he so longed.

“But now you know,” you whispered, caressing his skin delicately. “And I don’t care if I have to spell it out for you.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@keiratonks @kyuupidwrites @tchatso zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @hopelesswritergall @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @dragon430 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[kittywhoo]

Matchup for.. @imjustabeanie!

heres your matchup ❤️ tokyo rev edition!

Possible candidates:

First matchup.. Hajimei Kokonoi!

Koko, hmm… well he’s an interesting character. Hes not going to force you to open up, but he’d be the one person who just KNOWS exactly when something’s up with you, this man. smh, whether it’s because you’re being “extra” sarcastic or youre just “too” quiet.  

He’s also the type to observe you, psycho analyzing type shit, but let’s be real, youd absolutely do the same thing.

Hes the type to give you space, but also remind you who you belong to (I cannot believe I just uttered those words 😭) possessiveness, this dudes bringing you into his arms by the waist, grabbing your wrist, etc

Cute headcanons

He’s not the type to push, but he’d love watching you test the limits, just maybe not too far

i mean, he wouldn’t admit it, but theres a twinge amount of fear at what you’ll do when you’re feeling petty 😭

i have no idea if I said this before (I’m not rereading) but Koko would be SO incredibly interesting in trying to figure you out.

the way you tend to keep to yourself more, but also love teasing people to the point of making them mad???

He’s hooked.

Koko will SPOIL you to the ground, but also in the most subtle ways???

Think leaving notes of appreciation, random gifts, etc

but anyways, you mention wanting new sunglasses, or pjs?

it’ll be on your bed the next day in wrapping he just knows you’ll love.

2nd Runner-Up… Ran Haitani!

Ok lookkkk, Ran’s charismatic, mischievous, and totally down for whatever trouble you stir up, in the way of, is he ‘stopping’ you but really it’s just a half assed, “ok, ok that’s enough” yes. But does he secretly hope you continue for the extra drama? Also yes.

You’ve got that blunt, rbf, and defending your loved ones to the end of the earth, and rans got that confidence and wit that matches you step for step. (Bar for bar) 

When it comes to teasing, Ran would ABSOLUTELY beright there with you, I mean man, he’s got that sly, DEVIL smirk that would probably make you want to challenge him more. Yall absolutely would get into these back-and-forths where NEITHER can stop trying to one up each other

Cute headcanons:

Ran’s probably the kind of person who’d not be fazed by your sarcasm

So, idk, Ran is just doing what Ran does.  

You walk in, doing a little dance or something.  

Then imagine you say something witty or smart.

well just know hed find it endearing in his own ran type of way..

(ran count x4)

and we both know that’d probably encourage you to continue

would absolutely back you up if you’re about to get into trouble,

he’d stand there with that bored look,

but deep down, this man is already PLANNING your escape

Final matchup… Sanzu Haruchiyo!

Okay, okay, hear me out… Sanzu is quite the character.. but you’d guys probably vibe..?

I mean, Sanzu is just as unpredictable as you, and with that cool, calm exterior that sometimes cracks is something that he absolutely uses against you, (and it’s been a while since I’ve read the manga but if I remember correctly this dude is some type of psycho 😭) ESPECIALLY when y’all get into intense banter (I know you 2 absolutely will) he would ADORE your playful side, but despite that, this man is absolutely going to be one of the most protective people in your life.

Cute headcanons:

Sanzu would lowkey love how hard you make him work to figure you out.  

And likewise, you’d also enjoy teasing him 🤭

The most sarcastic, side-eyeing, Bastard you have ever met.

Well… that’s only at first.  

When you get to know him better, you’ll realize he’s just a guy! I mean, sure, he’s borderline possessive, kinda mean, also obsessive, but that’s okay!  

He would SO quietly observe, then throw in some random snarky comment when you least expect it.  

Whenever you do something reckless or impulsive, he’s going to roll his eyes and scoff in that typical Sanzu fashion 😐.  

BUT deep down? He’s secretly kinda proud. Would he ever say that out loud?  

Uh, no. It’d have to be forced out of him. 

But even then, would it work?  

No. Maybe. Well… just maybe..

Okay, yes. 

Only if it was you, though

——— 🕸️🐚

Yes, i genuinely had to look up manga panels of these characters bc it’s been so long since I’ve read the manga. Yes I mayyy have mischaracterized them, and yes this took me like idk?? A month to post? oops 🤭

well, regardless I hope you’re doing well! Sorry this took so long, I’m currently on break so I’m working on getting these matchups done 💪

As always feel free to contact me for any questions or comments, thanks!

(I also loved doing matchups for you, pleaseeee reach out if you want to do another matchup ❤️

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[justanerdy-gal]

An Ascendant’s Love

-> pairing: A!Astarion x Vampire!Tav -> content: fluff, emotional, pro Ascendant Astarion, vampire bride Tav, sfw -> summary: An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

-> notes: My firm belief has always been that Astarion’s love for Tav becomes so intense after his ascension that he does not know how to contain it. That he would go from the heavens to the hells to protect them, cherish them, and keep them by his side. To this end, I wanted to write a fic that briefly expositions how I think (headcanon ofcourse) Astarion feels about his love for Tav after he has ascended. Those who think ascended Astarion is abusive may not like this fic 🙈 But I hope you all enjoy it anyways ❤️

————

An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

Astarion ponders as he watches his love staring out the window of the palace, her skin as radiant as a pearl. As radiant as the day he turned her. He leans against the wall across the hall, enamoured by his consort’s beauty. She was wearing a ballgown he had specifically designed for her. He had made sure to spare no expense - much to Tav's hesitation early on. However, upon seeing Astarion's heady stare when she first put the gown on, she had decided that maybe it wasn't so bad.

It was hard for him to explain the feelings that turmoil through him when he stares at his beloved. Everything had changed when he chose to complete the Ascension ritual - for himself, not for his late master. Every sense, every feeling he had, had grown much more intense. It was almost too much for him to absorb at first. His edges had dulled over the past 2 centuries of slavery that he endured - and to just feel so much at one time - it was a feeling quite overwhelming.

And then there was her. His companion. His friend. His lover in a way that no past lover had ever been for… as long as he could remember.

Oh yes, he loved her before the Ascension - the first real connection he'd ever made in his life. The one who broke through all the walls he had built over the past two centuries, as if they were made with nothing but cardboard.

But it was as if his feelings before his Ascension were… minute. Puny.

They could not capture or describe the essence of what his little love truly meant to him. They could not do it justice.

She was the one who had saved him from his slaver - who had gone through thick and thin to ensure his happiness. Who never pushed him - not with intimacy, not with feelings. She let him make his own decisions. For the first time in his life.

When he first ascended, he had wanted to devour her whole. To devote himself to her, and have her devote herself entirely to him. Anyone else would have been terrified - scared off by the show of such intensity, such need for possession, a need to hold them close - in fear that in the blink of an eye, they would fly away, leaving a gaping hole in his undead heart.

But not her. Not the one who had opened her mind to him - allowed him to see himself for the first time. Who was locked by his side as he carved those wretched runes on the bastard’s back. It was an adjustment at first, but even without the tadpole in their brains, it's like they could read eachother's minds. It was not an intensity born out of control - Astarion had many things he could control, he did not need to control her. He did not ... want to control her.

It was a shock to him as well, to be frank. He was unsure how everything would play out after he had ascended - during that brief amount of time between his Ascension and before he had turned her. His mind was a whirlwind - the world moving too slow, his senses moving too fast. The strength of 7000 souls coursed through him, and his need to dominate was palpable. Intense.

But somehow....somehow she had seen through all that. Through the lust for control, for power, for revenge. She grounded him. Brought him back down to earth.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would have turned to the worst without her there. There was so much he was capable of - and the natural urges he had did not point towards good. But when he held her - when she melted into his embrace - he was reminded of that sliver of goodness, that had been the key to unlocking the world. He remembered their good deeds along their travels, the way he would fuss and fight, but would then softly smile as he saw the ones he helped thank Tav with joyous praises. He was enraptured by it. It made him wonder if maybe it wasn't so bad .... if he could make that smile appear on his love's face all the time.

It would take time, he found. As he settled into his new body, his new powers, his urges settled too. He found it easier to make good decisions over bad. His overwhelming desire calmed to an eternal adoration. Whenever he strayed in his natural urge to dominate, just a little nudge from his sweet was all it took to guide him back to the right path. Except for perhaps in their bed. It seems she rather enjoyed him dominating in that respect.

Time would never be enough for him to express his adoration of her. He longed to cherish her every moment of everyday. Hold her close as she blushed while he dragged his hand over her curves. To feel her shivers as he fed upon her blood. To lose himself in her lips, to ravish her with his touch, to feel her against him as she unravelled beneath him every night. To never let her go. He would never let her go.

He wanted to give her everything. He made her his bride. He would not allow her to suffer the torture he did. He would make sure she would want for nothing. Her every desire fulfilled. Her every need met. As long as she stayed by his side, he would give her the entire world.

He was now free to love her without fear - without fear of Cazador, without fear of the Absolute, without fear that he did not have the power to protect her. For the first time… he was without fear.

“What’s the matter, Astarion?” Astarion was taken out of his thoughts to see that Tav had walked over to him, her head quirked to the side as she wondered about what was bouncing through her love's mind at the moment.

“Nothing, my little love,” Astarion said, smiling as he pulled Tav in for a kiss. Tav was caught off guard by the intensity with which his lips met hers, almost set off balance as he crushed her body to him. He wrapped one arm around her waist, another lifting into in her hair, pulling her head in closer as he deepened the kiss for a moment, before he allowed her to breathe again.

“If that’s nothing, then nothing might have to happen more often,” Tav giggled, a blush creeping upon her face. Astarion face lit up with a grin at the twinkling sound of her laugh. He held her tight to him as he stared out into the setting sun.

You have given me everything.... thank you.

————

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@volturisecretary @myaastarionshenanegans @leatherboundriot

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 2 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤ and Illustration credit to @boredth ❤️

Original Post Part 1

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

Johnwickb1tsch:

As it turns out, faking your death involves taking some very gnarly photos with copious amounts of blood spread about. They will be released to the dark web, as well as the Underground network. John and Tex will get paid for a job well done. The FBI will receive the intelligence in due time, mixed with finding your blood and hair and skin at the scene. And once they off Dmitri, the man you witnessed killing the owner of the restaurant you used to work at, there will be no one left to care but Agent Bradford.

If he survives his wounds.

John and Tex are still perplexed about that one. He must be a tough bastard, but getting shot up even with a vest on would slow anyone down. Not to mention his blown out knee…

When next you wake you know you’re in a different location, even through your blindfold. Your hands are bound again, this time over your head. It feels like you’re laying on a soft surface, a mattress, and not a cheap one. You debate the merits of pretending to still be knocked out, or screaming your head off for help, when you hear, “Looks like sleepin’ beauty’s awake.”

From your other side there is silence, but you feel gentle fingers touching a lock of your hair. It sends a forbidden trill of desire through you, straight to your loins, and for the umpteenth time you wonder what exactly is wrong with you that you don’t 100 percent hate this the way you should.   

Fuck.

“Please let me go.” Your words are raspy; your throat is dry as a desert. How long have you been out?

“We have to talk about that,” says Tex. “See, there’s a whole lot gonna be ridin’ on you.” You can just hear his shit-eating grin for his double-entendre.  

“You’re a pig.”

“Aww, don’t be shy, darlin’. What did you think we were goin; to get up to when you got in my car? Playin’ pinochle? You wanted me, and I reckon’ that hasn’t changed.” You feel a rough hand sliding up your thigh that must belong to him. You try to buck him off, and find your legs aren’t bound. You try to kick towards the sound of his voice, but your limbs are heavy, and he catches your ankle.

“Boy howdy, someone’s flexible!”

He has you in an iron grip, and you give a frustrated scream.

“Don’t hurt her,” says the other one, in that quietly forbidding tone.

“Was I supposed to let her kick my head off?”

“Fine by me.”

Tex snorts in response, squeezing your leg in his big hand, just to give you a taste. You feel your bones creak beneath his grip.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

The whimper escapes you before you realise it. He doesn't hurt you yet, but the looming threat could not have been more explicit.

You utterly hate the helplessness, and the feeling of being trapped like this does not help.

"Tex..." The icy warning in his tone makes you gulp down and suppress another whimper.

"Loosen-up John, I'm not hurtin' her." You feel tge 'yet' is silent but hanging in the air.

Right, the other man's name- John. It slipped your mind before.

You feel the bed shift beside you before the warmth of the other body goes missing. You strain your ears, trying to guess what he is doing. When something touches your lips, you jump slightly, only to feel a large hand on your shoulder-- gentle and warm.

"It's just a straw. Try sipping through it."

John's voice is reassuring, soft even-- a stark contrast to the tone he used on Tex, whose fingers are still wrapped around your ankle. Much to your relief, John unlocks your hands from above your head, letting them rest on your front. You are disappointed when you realise that they're still bound, though. He helps you sit up a bit, adjusting pillows behind, before you feel the straw poking on your lips again. Taking the hint, you wrap your lips around it and sip the water eagerly.

You were parched, you realise.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

They take the blindfold off, and the world swims for a bit. You can barely keep your eyes open and your voice is soggy and slow. Once you come up for air, you realize you’re laying in a big bed with some kind of soft restraint holding your wrists together. Tex is sitting with you - he’s got your trouble making legs pulled into his lap, securing them.

You don’t bother fighting again, mostly because it feels like your arms and legs are made of sandbags. Everything is dull, blunted. Feels like you’re deep inside the dark, squishy confines of your brain, unable to break surface. You watch as John checks his phone, then looks up.

“Dimitri wants to meet.” It’s like he teleports out of the chair, gives you whiplash. He’s fast. He discards his shirt and jacket, replaces the bulletproof vest and gives you a perfect view of a scarred, tattooed, broad torso.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Close your jaw, honey, or else you’ll start drooling.” This from Tex, who you try to kill with a glare. He seems highly amused. You look away from John quickly, not even realizing you were starring so blatantly. Your body fills with different types of heat, ones that are much harder to hide the effects of under the heavy drugs clouding your judgement.

“He wants both of us?” Tex asks.

(Gif by @scarlettspectra ❤️❤️!)

“Tex, c’mon.” John drapes his suit jacket back on, pulls his Glock and does something with one big hand that makes it click and shift - you're starring again.

“Yeah.”

Tex whistles low, brushes some sticky hair off your neck and makes you flinch. “Dimitri’s grown some big cojones.”

John throws a spare vest at him. “Get. Ready.”

Tex rolls his eyes. “You can handle it, Wick. Lemme stay here and give this sore little girl a massage.” He knuckles into your calves, and you groan louder than you want to, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. It feels way too nice, because he’s right, you are sore.

“Tex.”

Your masseuse complies, makes a show for you - chest, muscles, masculine energy overly potent. You really do try not to watch, but it’s so hard, especially while Tex has that shit eating grin plastered to his face. And then there’s the weapon work, too. You’re not a fan of guns or knives, but seeing them handle and prep them, tuck them into straps and belts, it invokes carnal desire.

They’re going to leave you here again, alone, and you hate that, but what else can you do besides watch them go with a pathetic, doped up look on your face?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

They leave with the bedroom door locked, windows shut, and the room quiet.

Bizzarely enough, their absence bothers you. A strange silence hangs heavy in the air. You realise it eventually that it is the aftermath of the rollercoaster day.

In the silence, you finally break. Sobs break out with tears and snoot. You are really in a mess that is deep enough to have your life on the rocks, finely balanced by the intention of the two men who simply plucked you out of your life, your potential safety net and...That is tge scary part-- you are still unsure of their intentions.

You know that the smartest thing you can do is to adapt to the situation, but with the great powerr imbalance and unpredictable circumstances, every breath seems to be a nearing step towards death. You are not an optimist - never were - you cannot say that you are absolutely in love with your life, but you want to live. Your life before the mess was no fairytake-- an average life of an average girl, average problems that weighed you down. Now, when you think of it, you might even really fall in love with your average monotonous life only if you manage to somehow get out of the situation.

You try the windows and doors, although you know in your heart that they're no amateurs. They are seasoned professionals-- they took on Bradford with ease, the same Bradford you have seen handling four people with ease.

Bradford...

He is yiyr last hope. You are convinced that sooner or later, you will go crazy here. Who finds their captives attractive?

Embarrassed, you shut your eyes and sigh. You still feel pretty fuzzy, and the bed indeed is comfortable. With a defeated walk back to the bed, you slip under the covers, sleep is your only escape route for now.

Johnwickb1tsch:

It feels like an eternity, by the time they finally return. They look fierce but weary, exhausted from a long night, but their eyes are bright from the excitement of a battle. They both have splatters of blood on their faces—you doubt much, if any of it, belongs to them.

With wide eyes you watch as they start to shed their gear: the cluster of guns and knives that accumulates on the table is dizzying. If you could just get to one of those weapons…

Tex follows your gaze with a devilish smile. “Know how to use one of these, darlin’?”

“Aw. Is that any way to talk to the man who just removed the gangster boss who wants you dead from the face of the earth?”

(Thank u @boredth ❤️!!!)

“It can’t be that hard, if you manage it,” you snipe, straining against your wrist restraint for the umpteenth time that night. Or is it morning? You just don’t know.

This does perk your interest a little, though you’re almost loathe to show it. “You…killed Dmitri?” If it’s true…good riddance, then.

“Boy howdy. In fact, your buddy John here went a little trigger happy, and I’m pretty sure he wiped out the whole goddamn bratva. Everyone that was there, anyway.”

You blink, looking to the man in the dark suit for confirmation. He, however, is looking at something fixedly on his gun, not ready to crow his own praises.

Your heart is in your throat as you dare ask, “What…does this mean?”

However, Tex grins at you like a wolf to a sheep, and you do not feel safe, at all.

(By @boredth ❤️❤️❤️!)

“It means you should be safe.” John’s voice is deep, matter of fact. You get the sense that he really doesn’t use his voice much.

“Does that mean…you’ll let me go?”

“Eventually,” Tex answers. “If you’re a good girl.”

You swallow hard at hearing that.

John doesn’t contradict his partner, his intense dark gaze fixed on you. “You can have my half of the bounty.”

Tex’s head whips towards John. “You’re gonna give her 2.5 million dollars?”

“To start her new life,” John says, still looking at you. “In a different country, if she’s smart.”

Tex whistles at hearing that. “I like you, honey, but I’m not sure I like you that much.”

You, however, see exactly what John is doing. He’s giving you a reason to live. A reason to obey, a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise that if you can endure whatever they have in mind…you’ll not just get your life back. You’ll get…something better than your blue-collar working-class self could have ever dreamed of.

If only it didn’t make you feel like such a whore.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You feel pretty stupid, to be honest. So, so stupid for fighting them. But, if they would have just told you - took the time to really explain what was going on - no, you’re pretty sure you’re the asshole here. Maybe?

You’re distracted - a frequent event with these two around. And now they’re covered in blood and grime and sweat from protecting you and the vague, whorish thought crosses your mind that maybe they wouldn’t mind getting their cocks sucked after that long, hard night of being your heroes.

Still, that’s exactly what you feel like - a pathetic whore. And you want to bury your head into a pillow and smother yourself. You look, eyes set and determined, at John. “You don’t have to do that.”

For the first time, a little grin cracks the side of his mouth. He’s devastatingly handsome, this deadly man. “I won’t take no for an answer.” Is his simple reply.

Tex shakes his head, chuckles, cuts in to the intense eye contact John is pinning you to the bed with. “Gonna have to stay with us - one of us - for a while though, darlin’. We gotta make sure that pretty neck is off the chopping block.”

That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Sounds like your libido is about to get a lesson it won’t soon forget. Sounds like you’re gonna be constantly on more edge than one the entire time you have to be with them. Sounds like you’re gonna have your hand in your panties a couple times a day and still come out unsatisfied.

Your voice - scratchy and timid. “Do I have to stay tied up the entire time?”

John swipes a knife off the table, walks over to you, grabs your restraints, tugging your arms up and slicing through the leather holding them together. Your heavy limbs go to fall, but he catches both your wrists in one one - oh, his pretty, stocky hands really are big - then lowers them to your lap gently and tucks the blade back into his waist. “Are you hungry?” That’s it? No threats? No intimidation? Why are you actually a little disappointed? But , god, your stomach comes to life at the mention of a meal. Must have been a while since you’ve eaten. You answer him honestly, “yes.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

What a devil’s bargain.

You think it bold of John, to untie your hands, with all those weapons at hand.

But then, what would you really do with them, against these two trained killers?

The smarter path to survival lays down a darker road, and goddammit if as you look between them, you don’t feel some small thrill of anticipation.  

John has gone off somewhere to get you food, leaving you alone with Tex, who has stripped off his bloody shirt, his flak vest, then his undershirt. You’re not shy about staring this time, taking in the breadth of his bare chest and his toned arms. What’s the point in being shy now?

Tex smirks at your blatant appraisal of his powerful body. “My eyes are up here, darlin’.”

You huff and look away, crossing your arms. “You are such an asshole.”  Your belly has begun to rumble, audibly now. It’s a little embarrassing.

However, a second later he has crossed the room to you, claiming your attention again with a calloused hand on your jaw, directing your eyes up to him. He doesn’t say anything, just pins you with those dark orbs, and like stumbling on a predator in the woods you dare not try to look away. Maybe he hides it with his aw shucks demeanor, but this man is just as dangerous as the other, and a cold chill runs down your spine as you wonder if he’s about to prove it to you.

You couldn’t be more relieved, than when John comes through the door with a paper plate of food and a plastic cup of what you hope is water.

Tex smiles down at you, the warmth returning to his eyes. He pats your cheek just this side of too hard, making you wince. You can tell John doesn’t like it, that Tex touches you this way, but it’s not quite enough to yell at him for.

You wonder how these two extremely dangerous men, who for all the world seem like opposites of each other, are going to manage this situation without killing each other.

Could you get so lucky?

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"You have somethin' in your head 'bout the road ahead?"

While you busy yourself with the meal, you keep your ears on the discussion regarding the road ahead. Keeping your eyes on the plate, you try to appear as disinterested as possible-- in reality, though, you want to know everything they have planned. John has been exceptionally kind to you, Tex is an asshole but has been tolerable until now. They promised to let you go and allow you to start anew. But you can't trust them just yet...

There's silence from John's end before you feel his eyes on you. You try to resist the urge to look up, but your eyes just have to glance up before you can force them to remain on the plate. They lock with John's unreadable gaze immediately, and you blink. It's unfair - you feel like he is reading into your soul while you are not able to decipher a single thought that runs in his mind. Even now, he appears to be an indecipherable abyss to you-- you know it's deep and dark, but find no hint of what is in there. You feel that there is a lot in there, though.

It is John who breaks eye contact, turning to Tex.

"Let's talk over a drink."

He offers, and with that, they both are out of the room. They shut the door behind, and you hear the distinct click of the lock.

What are they planning?

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Why do they keep leaving you? It’s starting to get really, really annoying. However, while they’re gone, it gives you a chance to take a shower and get cleaned up a little bit. This placed is obviously lived in. The sheets have a faint smell of some woodsy cologne and laundry soap and sweat, the shower has half empty shampoo and soap bottles, the counter has scattered, used toiletries.

Your old clothes are covered in dirt, and probably minuscule flecks of blood and other gross body fluids, so you turn your nose up at them and dig through the closet instead. T-shirts, jeans, boxers - men’s clothing. At least it’s clean and it smells good. You pull on a pair of plain grey boxers and then a black, draping T-shirt, feeling kind of like you’re wearing your dads clothes like when you were six years old and playing dress up.

A pair of black, thick socks completes your look. You’re comfortable, now, to go around the room and stretch a little bit. You still kind of feel too jiggly to properly function, but some back cracking and shoulder rolling doesn’t take too much out of you.

They locked the weapons away in a dresser by the closet, went out still covered in blood. Bold move. Cocky. Daring anyone to say something to them at this very moment, probably.

But, they’re back faster than you think they will be. Outside the door. Loud. Tex is at twice his usual volume, hooting and hollering. “I really do think you’re a bad motherfucker.”

John answers, something lighter perking his usually monotone voice. “Not so bad yourself, Tex.”

They’re getting along it seems, which you’re not sure is good for you. The door unlocks, clicks open, and you can immediately tell that Tex is drunk. He’s boisterous, holding John by the shoulders, laughing, face reddened, and - the biggest tell - he’s got an open whiskey bottle in one hand.

John is smiling, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. His face is a bit mottled, too. Are they both drunk? Your annoyance spikes. They could have at least offered you some after the shit you’ve gone through.

You perch on the bed, glaring at them. You get more than you bargained for when they both look at you. Their eyes do the same thing in unison - narrow and blow, go hungry and honed. The only difference in the way they stare at you is Tex’s lopsided grin. You feel like quarry again, and it makes you cross your arms and fold your legs into yourself.

Tex leans into John’s ear, voice low and almost taunting. “Those your clothes, Johnny?”

John keeps his eyes right on you. “Yeah.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Hey, who said you could wear Johnny's clothes?" banters Tex, approaching you with a swinging gait, the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

You glance to John, who is watching your interaction interestedly, but makes no move to intervene.

"I said," you answer with narrowed eyes, tracking the motion of the bottle. It could be a weapon, or a gesture of friendship, all depending on the context. When Tex extends it to you in offering, you're a little relieved. And, a little thirsty, truth be told. Who knows if its a good idea, mixing alcohol and whatever drug they gave you earlier, but...you're being held captive by two dangerous mafia assassins. You need something to take off the edge.

You reach for the bottle, and almost grasp it, but Tex pulls back at the last second. "Make you a trade, honey."

"Imagine that."

"You can have a drink, if you take somethin' off."

Of course.

Cheekily, you start with your big black socks, throwing them at Tex one after the other.

John smirks as Tex play scowls, but true to his word he hands you the bottle. You take a pull--and immediately wince. Whiskey is such a foul spirit, as spirits go.

Tex chuckles. "Need it in a silver cup with a mint sprig, baby girl?"

A mint julep does sound pretty fucking good about now. If only he was serious.

"I'll live." You reach for the bottle again, but he holds it over your head.

"Nuh uh. It'll cost you more clothing."

In the back of your head, you almost find it interesting, how he engages your complicity in this cat and mouse game.

"Two socks, two drinks. Pay up, cowboy."

He tries to give you a hard look for that, but his eyes glitter with mirth.

"Fair's fair, Tex," nudges John, and Tex just gives a theatrical sigh, extending the bottle again.

"Diabolical woman, drinkin all my hooch."

You salute him with the bottle before taking another pull, longer this time. It should help you stomach...whatever it is they're about to do to you.

You hand back the bottle, and you wait. So does Tex, staring at you expectantly. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question of what?

He extends the bottle again with a pout of full lips that should be absolutely ridiculous on a grown ass man, but somehow is actually cute?

"I'm comfortable, thank you."

John snorts with laughter behind Tex, earning a glare.

"You gonna watch, or you gonna help? I swear, this is the damndest woman I've ever met..."

When John makes his way towards you, his steps silent and graceful as a leopard on the prowl--your heart sinks a little.

When he reaches for you, you recoil, but there's no escape. There's just his hand in your hair, holding you fast, and then his lips on yours.

The latter takes you by surprise, really.

His lips are soft, but exacting. He claims your mouth in a sweeping kiss, and when he pulls away he leaves you breathless, like he has utterly snogged you senseless. When fingers clasp the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards, it doesn't even occur to you to fight, until its halfway over your head.

Suddenly you are bare from the waist up, and you cant help but give a little scream, your hands flying to cover yourself.

The whisky is definitely not helping yet, and you begin to tremble incontrollably.

"Aw, I think she's cold, Johnny boy."

John reaches out to soothe you, petting your hair. "You're beautiful," he tells you.

You don't understand how his look can be soft, yet predatory, all at the same time.

"Ain't he a gentleman?" drawls Tex with a roll of eyes, taking another pull off his bottle.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

"Fuck off!"

That is your first response as you reach to snatch back the shirt. Despite getting a hold on it, John does not let go.

"Give it back to me!" You grit out--- the situation is suddenly not playful anymore.

Your gut has been right about John all along, you realise, as you glare back at him. There is a glint of cruel amusement in his eyes that has you making an effort to suppress tears. You hate being powerless, vulnerable, exposed.

In this situation, unfortunately, you are all three.

"How about a deal---"

"No! C'mon! It was gettin' fun." Tex groans earning a glare from you, which he returns with a hungry gaze.

"How about a deal..." John continues.

Your eyes return to the man who still has an iron hold on your (his) shirt. Your arms covering your modesty turn tighter around yourself as you narrow your eyes at him.

"I let you have this shirt, and you sleep with one of us."

"Just sleeping, right?"

John smirked, "Sleeping."

That does not sound very reassuring.

You wanted to demand that he promise, but looking at your position, you realise that you have no upper hand here. The power imbalance is glaring at you in he form of your naked upper half.

"We'll take rounds."

Tex spoke, his heavy hand splayed on your lower back, sliding along your spine, only to leave trails of goosebumps. You somehow contain yourself from arching your back. The tingles that arise are not helpful either.

"Y--you meant every night?" Your surprised gaze meets John's amused one as he nods.

"I'm not doing this every night."

You hiss out before you think and regret it immediately as the part of the shirt on your hold is snatched away by John, you wish to reach out, but you can't and you are almost certain that you see a flash of disappointment in John's eyes when you do not move your arms.

"Forget the shirt then." Tex chuckles out from behind you as his palm slides around your waist and rests on your bare stomach. The implication is clear and you gulp.

Not just gulp, you gulp down your pride and take a deep breath.

"Fine." You grit out.

You eye the shirt in John's hold, expecting him to give it back to you. But he keeps it out of reach.

"Take it."

Bastard!

"Not funny, John, give me the shirt."

"I won't move it away, I promise." Despite how gentle he sounds, his malicious intent is no longer hidden.

"Reach out and take it."

Tex sounds much closer, the smell of whiskey now prominent as his breath tickles your neck. His hold on you tightens, preventing you from moving your body forward.

No, you were wrong. They are anything but good.

At this moment, you sure wish for Bradford to kick their asses-- which are nice to look at--- Wait!

What the hell is wrong with you?

Adjusting one arm to cover yourself properly, you reach out for the t-shirt, and as promised, John makes no move to snatched it away again. His heavy gaze, though, flicks down for a moment before his eyes meet yours once more. This time, they have in them a heavy heat that burns through you. It's the kind of burn that a woman wishes to see in her man's eyes, and it would have been flattering and swoon-worthy if not for the situation you are in. Half-naked, trapped between two very dangerous, very handsome, but morally dark men.

You feel the heat on your cheeks and neck as you try to slip back the shirt. With a disappointed sigh, Tex removes his hold, and you heave a sigh of relief while quickly slipping your shirt back on.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You have this strange, awful feeling that your captor-saviors have made some kind of bet or deal of their own - one that you have been blindly excluded from. You go from being thankful to hating them again. It’s giving you whiplash.

Tex yawns, and bombs down on the bed behind you, making you yelp and jump. “Speaking of sleeping, I’m exhausted.”

“Thought I was first?” John doesn’t sound humored. It reminds you of the fact that he’s drunk, that little pout in his voice like he’s disappointed. So, they did plan this, then. Angry fire blazes your insides.

“How bout we let y/n decide who’s first,” Tex reasons, never taking his hooded eyes off you - never dropping that sharp, horrifying, infuriating, promising grin from his mouth. He takes another chug of whiskey.

They both look at you expectantly, and you have never felt tinier. A fly staring at two huge spiders. You try to glare back, maybe keep some of your self esteem intact.

“Well?” John asks, tipping his head at you.

You’re so tired of playing these stupid little games with them. You’re so tired of being the rat in their maze. You’re so tired of hiding and running and lying belly up. You fix John with a hard gaze - for some reason, it’s much, much harder to do that with him than with Tex - and say, “I don’t want to sleep with either of you. Fucking creeps.” You get off the bed, stand up, hands on your hips, expecting Tex to look surprised instead of filled with gleeful delight - to your dismay, his smile is wider as he watches this adorable attempt at dominance.

“And if you touch me again, I’ll do worse than bite you.” You eye John’s gnarly, bruised hand, trying not to feel bad about it. Trying not to think with your vagina anymore. She’s still there though, tugging at you, a little thrill tensing her up - the reward for your bold behavior.

John’s on you, hand on your throat - not pushing or squeezing, just resting there. He bullies you back. You try to hit him, but he swats your hand away like it’s a stray hair tickling his face. When he presses you into the wall, you’re terrified - shaking, trifling, owl eyed. You expect him to be scowling at you - you wish he was scowling at you - but his grin mirrors Tex’s. That grin could send a pack of wolves running tail between legs.

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, soothing voice such sharp contrast to the way he handles you and the hellish look on his face. It actually helps your nerves, quells some of that tremble originating from primal fear. “You’re okay.”

You press your palms up against the wall and they slip down, drenched with cold sweat. john has taken up your orbit entirely, so you’re shocked to see Tex suddenly at his side, helping him cage you against the wall.

“You’re okay,” John says again, titling your chin back to only him. For some reason, a part of you believes him - probably your stupid fucking vagina again.

“Why?” You ask, voice cracked and small, all your valiance gone.

“Atonement,” Tex drawls.

[002yb]

I really need more of Dick being jealous, and it starts out with Jason being oblivious and just making things worse by interacting/flirting with others but when Jay finds out he double down on it until Dick can't handle it anymore and just kisses him and gets all possessive.

Idiots in Love trope x1000 ❤️

Jason having a persistent and undying crush on Dick since back when Dick was Robin

He's been flirting at Dick for a literal decade

Problem is - Jason is terrible at it

What's embarrassing? Jason is actually a natural flirt. The most unintentionally flirty bastard that ever walked the earth, in fact. Not that he's aware of this, of course. The fact stands.

When Jason tries to flirt? Strongly reiterating that he's bad at it. It's always tongue-tied stutters or bashfulness that steals his words; sometimes it goes the opposite direction and Jason gets confrontational through his embarrassment. Usually though? Jason's best efforts come across as completely mundane and casual.

Jason looking to his friends for feedback because see above with 'flirting for a literal decade' and his friends are just flummoxed after witnessing one such Jason > Dick flirts because wtf was that, Todd??

Jason being just as flummoxed because what do they mean what was that? That was Jason putting on the moves.

Cue everyone showing Jason how to flirt with intention - and I mean everyone

Even if Jason isn't interested in anyone but Dick, the attention still flusters him in a way that leaves him feeling a whole range of emotions - from bashful to amused to petulant to playful to embarrassed and it's ahhhhhhh always with a blush

Anyway. From Dick's perspective, Jason is flirting with everyone except for him. It's so blatantly apparent, too.

Which leads to Dick getting jealous

And being a little petulant about it

Petulant meaning - Dick inserts himself into every possible interaction to diffuse flirting situations

Jason might be oblivious to a lot, but he picks up the uptick in attention Dick gives him directly after everyone else starts giving him attention and it's very oh

So Jason carries on with the flirting with others, but only ever when Dick is around to witness it. All his attention stays on Dick, too and it's a heady sort of thing to witness how Dick's mood shifts - pleasant to dark in a way that Jason isn't familiar with but feels very keen about

And it's at that point that Jason can't help but smirk and it's such a lascivious look that Dick is fully enraptured - watching from a distance. Almost like he's stalking Jason and okay, yeah - yes please.

Maybe whoever is helping Jason with his flirting at that point gets a little swept up in the moment and pushes forward to close some distance. Only before any kiss can happen, Dick is right there behind them, pulling Jason back to his chest with his hand over Jason's mouth to prevent any kisses from being given and ohhhhh the way Dick's upper lip lifts in a snarl has Jason shuddering apart against him and it's lovely

Dick pulling Jason away to someplace private and he wants to ask what's going on but Jason and him just end up making out until Jason's knees give out and Jason stumbles until Dick catches him - laughing breathlessly because fuck

Meanwhile Dick is a little confused, but endlessly enamored because Jason's laugh is a beautiful thing - so is the way his cheeks flush and his lips bruise and hot damn

Jason explaining what was happening with their friends helping Jason out, since Jason wasn't having any luck with Dick on his own.

Help with what?

Flirting with you? Like I've been for xx years??

Dick doing the math and getting a little hot under the collar for it. Redirecting the conversation back to flirting lessons because what.

The best person to learn from would obviously be Dick though, right?

Then Dick lays some sort of line on Jason - full send flirts and Jason combusts. He's gone. Death has come to claim him a second time. He passes out. His maiden heart cannot handle.