#if you thought he wasn't going to prod you over that

[sunni-stuff]

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

Locking the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

Arriving outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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WOWWW LOOK AT ALL THESE NAMES. Thank you all so much for the support!! Im sorry if i missed any, I will update if I noticed any missing or comment on those who's tags didnt go through!

[bunnys-kisses]

"ex" husband

simon "ghost" riley

cw: pwp/smut, ex husband!simon, possessive!simon, dark themes, mirror sex & other smut, major red flags, proceed with caution, bad husband!simon, manipulation

bunny says: once you fuck crazy, you never not fuck crazy

simon didn't believe in divorce. he made a vow to be with you till death, he wasn't going to skimp out on the years you could spend together. he wouldn't accept that you wanted to be without him.

he had you on the floor of your shared bedroom, you were holding onto him behind yourself while his hands were on your hips. he was rubbing his cock up against your slick entrance.

"have you had any other guys over? fuckin' them in my bed, in my home that i paid for?" he held it over your head as he watched your face contort with pleasure. he continued to rub his tip up against your slit.

"no, simon." you panted. your heart raced with every moment that passed. your body was hot all over. "i haven't had anyone else, not since you." your pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation for what was to come. you were almost certain that your cunt was formed to the size of his cock.

"good, good. i don't want some fuckin' prick comin' to my home and fuckin' my girl." his voice was low as he got a hand between your legs and touched your clit with his rough fingers.

you arched your back and moaned out loud. you could be as loud as you needed to be. he kept his wife in a home far enough from everything that you could whimper and whine to your heart's content. your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the thrill of pleasure through your body.

"nothin' can have ya. no stupid asshole who thinks he can have what is mine. you made a promise, love. to be loyal to your husband." he growled as he gripped your jaw with his other hand and made you look into the mirror, "i don't think someone who wants to leave her husband would be lettin' him fuck her in their bedroom."

"simon, please." you whimper.

"nah, nah, love.' he said, accent heavier due to the immense lust in his body, "i was a good man to you. lovin', carin', did everythin' for ya. and you turn around like an ungrateful brat and try to leave me." his voice was getting deadly. his hand still held your jaw and his other played with your clit. you were stuck to him, "fuckin' slag. surprised you haven't fucked your way through the neighborhood to find a new man. because you'd never find one like me. or you're scared. scared i'd find him, and make him go missin'."

you swallowed, fear struck through you, "simon. i didn't sleep with anyone."

he buried his nose into your hair and groaned as his cock still prodded your pussy lips, "i know, i know. you don't actually want to leave me. your girlfriends got these thoughts into your head that i don't think are true. better without me? love, i made you."

you panted heavily, it was hard to look into the mirror with his hot words into your mouth. maybe he was right, maybe you didn't want to leave him. he had given you everything throughout your entire marriage. why would you sacrifice it?

he pulled his hand away from your pussy and guided his cock into your pussy. the stretch had you gripping onto him. the angle was awkward but he had you contorted to fit his pleasure.

"my good wife." he purred, "i'll always love you. even when you're not usin' that head of yours right. but don't worry." he kissed your cheek, "i'll always take care of my girl."

you held onto him as he thrusted into your from behind. you felt the air leave your lungs whenever he pushed into you. it was an intense feeling on your behalf. you had never imagined that fucking your soon-to-be ex-husband would feel so good.

"like that, love?"

you nodded meekly, "it feels good."

"that's a good girl." he groaned, "made perfectly for me. you are such a good girl for me, love. why would you want to go anywhere? stay with me, keep your vow."

your thighs quivered from the intense feeling of pleasure. your breathing was heavy and your head felt full. your heart leapt every time his cock nudged against a sensitive spot.

"please, simon. i can't be your wife."

"you can. and you will." he took you by the face and tilted your head back so he could kiss you passionately.

you melted into the kiss, as did the last of your resolve. your core throbbed with a need for him. he melted away all your problems. the more he fucked you, the more you wanted to stay with him.

he was your husband after all.

the sex between you two was hot and messy. it made you core soaked as he continued to bully his cock into your sweet cunt with every hard thrust.

"say you love me."

"i love you." you replied, your eyes hooded.

"good girl." he groaned, "i want to hear that every day until you can no longer speak." he licked across your bottom lip, "my good girl."

you whined as your body shook with each thrust of his hips. your pussy clenched around his cock. you felt your mouth to be dry and you voice strained.

simon loved taking you apart, only to put you back together. he continued to fuck you with abandon. he gazed at you with his nose in your hair as he thrusted up into you.

your noises were so cute, you really just were so small compared to him. you needed him! what were you thinking leaving him? you needed your big strong military husband to make sure that you were safe. don't be silly now!

he kissed your neck as he felt the surge of pleasure in his gut. his heart hammered with each every thrust. you were made for him. as he kissed the tip of your ear, he felt the blush that spread across your skin.

"please, simon."

"i got ya, love." he said, "i got ya." with a few more thrusts that hit in just the right place. you saw stars as you climaxed around his cock. his was soon to follow as his cum hit the back of your womb.

where it belonged.

as you rested your face on the carpet of the bedroom in an effort to cool down, simon grabbed your hips and started to thrust into you once more. his cock still painfully hard.

"you've done enough damage, love. so just sit there and let your husband take care of you." his voice was low and deadly. your best option would to just let simon do what he wanted.

-

"so mrs. riley. you've decided against the divorce. any particular reason why?"

you relaxed a little bit in the sleek office chair across the desk from your lawyer. your hand was on your middle as you smiled, "well, we're having a son soon, and he needs his father in his life. so i reconsidered."

"the case against your husband is fairly strong. broken locks on the door, his overly possessive behaviour, the text messages and voice mails, all of it. you could be granted a divorce quite easily."

you shook your head, "no need. we've worked it out." you smiled at the lawyer. you knew your simon was waiting for you in the car. his words echoed in your mind as you assured your lawyer that her services weren't needed.

you and simon were properly a family now. you didn't need to tear it apart. after all, how else were you going to end up with many little rileys running around?

[servicpop]

NOW STARRING : deliquent (almost) bf (Adrien) x good student reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤAdrien gets a bit lonely and pulls reader under the staircase during break!

✙ warnings — semi-public sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, reader isn't 100% submissive, dirty talk / like 2 sentences of degradation and praise / not actually dating / slight internalised homophobia / mentions of bisexual Adrien

notes ,, first smut, hope I did well -> part 1 | not proofread!

"Fuck— keep quiet alright?"

When Adrien left a cryptic text message saying to meet underneath the staircase, you at first thought you had done something wrong and he was going to beat you up for whatever you did. But, turns out — it was a really silly reason — that Adrien saw this couple making out underneath the tree they had and he wanted to experience something like that with you. Obviously because friends help friends right?

Underneath the staircase was quite dim and almost eerie. It wasn't as romantic as kissing underneath a cherry blossom tree but when have you two ever been the cheesy romantic type? When you arrived, he pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you like he had been reunited with his long lost lover — which wasn't too far off since he truly believed that you two dated in a previous life. When he hugged you, you tried to act nonchalant, you tried to ignore the warmth that his chest gave off or how safe you felt in his stupdily built arms. Friends aren't supposed to feel like this to eachother, especially if both parties are men!

"Did you call me over just to hug?" You chuckled softly, fighting every bone in your body to not hug him back. You gotta be strong, you can't fall for a deliquent bad boy, it's too cliché.

"I called you over to fuck."

"Wait, what?"

You felt Adrien's hand grip the back of your head, pulling your hair hard enough to tilt your chin up but not hard enough to hurt (he can't be hurting his precious boy). His chapped lips met yours, it was obvious that he didn't take very good care of his lips but that didn't matter, you'd help him out later. The kiss was rough and almost experimental as if Adrien had never kissed another in his life — which was wrong seeing how he's had multiple girlfriends in the past — he seemed almost hesitant, unsure.

Fuck it. Just this once you'd give in to Adrien, but that doesn't mean you were dating him!

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you prod your tongue against his lips, you figured you would demonstrate how to kiss properly to him, he was a hands on learner after all. His eyes widened slightly and his hands dropped to your waist, supporting your balance as he hesitantly opened his mouth, letting your tongue explore. It was weird because usually he'd be the one always taking control but your occasional leading was a breath of fresh air.

After awhile he pulled away with a smirk, "I got it," he replied before picking you up and forcing you to rely on him for stability. A small squeak left your throat as you were hoisted up in the air and pressed against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapped around Adrien's waist. He kissed you again except this time he took dominance, roughly exploring your mouth, poking and prodding at anything he could find. He was so rough that you hadn't noticed his belt come off until the metal clinked on the ground, then you realised what was poking at your ass.

Shit, he was big. Not necessarily in length but girth and thickness, it was practically the perfect all-rounder.

"Wait— Adrien, condom?" You stuttered, the fear finally settling in now. Its not like you were a virgin, just that you've never had someone like... Adrien. His eyes met yours in slight disappointment but he didn't want to go too far on his first time with you, plus, he wasn't even dating you so why would he go so far? Shaking off his thoughts he nodded, rummaging in his pocket for one while keeping you pressed against the cold wall.

"Jerk me off first? The latex gets uncomfortable to put on," He put on a fake pout, letting you stand as he held his throbbing cock out for you to see. You huffed, he was definitely lying but you'd humour him. Just for today.

You reached down, your warm palm engulfing his tip and he let out a low grown in response. Your thumb rubbed against his slit and a smile cracked onto your face when you saw the pre-cum leaking out already. His forearms caged you in as his head hung low, you could see his eyebrows furrowing and the way his face contorted in pleasure. Adrien's hips grinded up into your fist, matching your rhythm as you stroked his cock, gripping tighter at the base before swirling your thumb on his tip. It was almost like you were massaging his climax out.

"S-shit how are you so good with your hands," He sucked in air between his teeth as he hissed, groans and low moans slipped out of his mouth like water. Eager hips bucked up into your fist, chasing his release. "Close, fuck—" He cursed under his breath, his hips almost slamming into your hand, his body trembed as he was so close. His eyes flew open as he looked down to see your thumb covering his urethral opening, denying him of an orgasm, "Wh–?"

"That's enough isn't it? It should slip on easily now," You grinned, taking the condom from his hand and ripping it open with your fingers, rolling the rubber over his now overly sensitive dick. He stared in disbelief, you just... denied him? Him? Oh you were getting it now.

"You little pervert," Adrien chuckled darkly as he whipped you around, pressing your chest against the wall and holding your arms behind your back. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever but your uncomfort was interrupted when he pulled your pants down with your boxers. It was embarassing to say the least, showing off your ass like this to another guy, you were glad you had to face the wall, otherwise you might’ve crumbled from embarrassment if you saw how hungry Adrien looked.

He was teasing you. Edging you. Slipping his cock along your entrance but never actually pushing in. You were dying of anticipation because from your position, it was hard to see anything other than the walls. A surprised and embarrassingly loud moan slipped out and you'd cover your mouth if it wasn't for Adrien's hand binding your wrists together. Adrien had slammed his hips into you, his cock buried deep inside you. No warning no nothing, he was truly cruel. One hand was gripping your hip while the other hand let go of your wrists, you were finally able to stabilise yourself against the wall but long fingers thrusted their way into your mouth. Well this was new.

You gagged slightly around his fingers as you tried to say something about it but your words were blocked by Adrien's middle and ring finger. His hips also began to pick up speed, pulling out almost fully before slamming back in. You were kind of thankful for his thick fingers blocking and muffling your moans or else people were sure to catch you two fucking like bunnies underneath the staircase.

He leaned down so that his chest was flush against your back and the hand that was gripping your hip turned into his arm linking around your waist as he held you close. Adrien's breath fanned your ear before he spoke, "You know those– puppy bandages you gave me yesterday?" His question was broken from panting and groans as he kept thrusting. "Where did you buy them? I– fuck– want them," Adrien chuckled.

You would answer if you didn't have two fingers stuffed in your throat. "You know... good boys don't gatekeep, you don't wanna be good for me?" Fuck. You were never the one for praise but that? That made you cum on the spot. Your knees gave out as your poor cock spurted out white but Adrien was already keeping you up right. He laughed, his gravelly laugh travelled straight through your ears and to your cock. He smiled against your shoulder, almost like he was hugging you from behind, he quickly came after you. Shame that it wasn't inside you but it would do for now.

You both panted, and he took this opportunity of vulnerability from you to sink his teeth into your skin, eliciting a small gasp from you, "What the fuck Adrien?" The bell rung, indicating that break was over and you whined, fixing your uniform before pulling your boxers and your pants up, wincing from the weird sticky feeling from not cleaning up. Adrien was already dressed and he waved you off, quickly running off to a spot where he could skip the next few classes with his friends. You'd have to fix yourself up in the bathroom later.

BONUS

"Did you seriously cum from my praise?

"No, it's just a normal reaction."

"Who's a good boy?"

"Fuck you..."

"Nope! Never letting you top."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

♡

notes ,, the smut wasn't as detailed as I wanted it to be but I get fics done in like a day so I didn't want it to be so long, anyways! That's adrien, I'll be working on a fic for my next oc "

[sageo7]

ask and you shall recieve (regarding stiles req) anyway luv stiles seems like he'd be a munch if you feel me so maybe some stiles being annoyingly persistent in asking for a taste ... because he's a begging loser lol

thank god someone thinks like me ☺️ a bitch is sick so gonna start working through my requests !

it would be completely innocent at first, his head resting on your stomach while your fingers thread through his hair absentmindedly your other hand propping up a book while you read. he gets restless easily, practically trying to bury his face into you completely, arms wrapped securely around your waist. it doesn't take long before he's pressing kisses against your skin lifting the hem of your shirt to grant himself more access. you pause mid sentence to glance down at him curiously mumbling a small "what are you doing?"

he doesn't give you an answer just looking up with those puppy eyes, cheeks flushed scarlet. deep down you already know what he wants, it wasn't uncommon for him to just bury himself between your thighs for hours lapping at your cunt like he was utterly starved. you liked toying with him when he was like this though so you persist "i thought you wanted to cuddle?" you say feigning ignorance.

"please.." is all he murmurs out planting more kisses down your stomach "just.. wanna little taste"

you tut softly going back to your book like you hadn't heard him and that's how you really got him pleading.

"baby please.. just for a little" he borders on whining thumbs tracing small circles over your hip bones. "please."

the only answer you give him is spreading your legs slightly wider nose still buried between the pages. he doesn't hesitate for even a second fingers hooking in the hem of your sleep shorts dragging them down and groaning at the lack of panties. now stiles usually takes his time, making sure to tease and mark you as much as he can but something has him completely impatient this time. his tongue instantly finds your wetness licking a long stripe up and sighing contentedly into your pussy. he works languidly, really savoring the feeling of tracing through your folds and suckling at your clit every so often. with shaky hands you give in setting the book aside and carding your hands through his hair again making his eyes lock onto yours as he continues his ministrations. he was practically drooling into your cunt wetness smeared around his lips and down his chin. his tongue prods at your entrance gently before just shoving in fully making soft moans of bliss fall from both of you. his grasp wanders from your thighs up to your tits grabbing at the soft flesh desperately while he babbles out incoherent praises into your pussy. your thighs start to shake involuntarily and you can feel yourself start to tip over the edge making it your turn to spew pleas and desperate versions of "I'm close" while tugging at the hair locked in your grasp. even after you finally reach that peak stiles lapping up every drop you give him he doesn't stop. he's too pussy drunk to register the sounds of your complaints and protests, instead just spreading you a little wider for him so he can keep going how he pleases.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hear me out, Scara fucking and breeding us raw but then giving us the most aggressive aftercare with the grumpiest face because we’re refusing him like “nahh let’s just go to bed” and he’s like “ah hell nah” 😍

Btw I love you sm suzu pls don’t ever die 😭❤️

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. breeding kink. creampie. fingering. clit slapping. degradation. praise. grumpy aftercare❤️

aww🥺 thank you, dear. i don't plan on dying any time soon.

even though scaramouche was panting, collapsed on top of you with his cock still inside of you, his stamina showed no signs of wavering. he was drunk on how good your pussy felt fucking so deep into it. drunk on his mission to breed you, and fuck a baby inside of you.

fuck his baby inside of you.

"such a good girl," he purred shakily, "still so tight and begging to bred," pulling out, he sat up to admire your fucked out expression for a moments. looking down, he smirked seeing little bits of his cum seeping from your hole.

with his index and middle finger, he delivered a calculated smack on your sensitive clit. you gasped, your body spasming in pleasure and your walls squeezing around nothing. he didn't give you time to shower him in praise and words of begging from how good he was breeding you.

"hmm," he murmured thoughtfully to himself, his beautiful fingers dipping between your folds to finger cum back up inside of you. he allowed himself to relish in your hazy moans and mewls as you grinded against his fingers before he leaned down and buried his teeth into the dominant bite mark he'd imprinting on your shoulder all night.

scaramouche is a very passionately aggressive man. he would be damned if you didn't feel every inch of passion he felt for you on your body. he always took great care in making sure you felt it. felt it in his hands. in his teeth. and mostly certainly in his cock.

"i hope our children get your eyes. and your unwavering determination," you babbled behind your moans. your hips bucked into his fingers, writhing as he scissored your walls apart.

scaramouche's cock pulsed hard hearing your words. groaning, he grinded his teeth on the fold of flesh in his mouth. he prodded his tongue on the inflamed skin as he sucked. "fuck, you are perfect," he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, "do you know that, slut?"

your cheeks flushed hearing his degrading praise. grabbing your wrist, he yanked up so he could kiss you. he knew he could've just leaned down and kissed you, but he needed his lips on yours. now. you swore you felt him pour more passion on you in the way he pushed your back onto the bed again.

your hands scrambled to grasp his cock and bring the leaking head to your entrance again. "please," you pleaded hazily, your lips hovering over his as you pulled away a little, "cum inside of me again. give me the pleasure of giving you what you want," you licked at his mouth submissively.

scaramouche's head spun with love. your submission was showing your passion for him. he could never, ever get enough. "what a whore. so cock drunk that you can't wait for me to pump you full again," batting your hands away, he bullied his cock back inside of you, bottoming out with accuracy that made your toes curl in pleasure.

he wasn't going to be satisfied until he saw a literal pocket of cum protruding from your stomach. your stomach that would be swollen with something else if he it his way.

and scaramouche always, always got his way.

"remember what i promised you, kitten?" he moaned huskily, his teeth biting at your lips as he forced his tongue into your mouth. you curled and glided your tongue around his, wrapping your arms around him. you further relaxed your body so he rest his weight on top of you. "i'm going to knock you up. make you my wife," his hips smacked into yours, his cock squelching and pumping wet in and out of you.

your body twitched in pleasure, your eyes lighting up in what scaramouche quite frankly thought was the purest devotion he'd ever seen. fuck, this is why you deserved to be his wife. there could be no one else.

then, you looked up at him with those pretty, pretty eyes of yours and said the words that never failed to make him come undone. "i love you, scara. i love you so much," your orgasm was building intensely again, you could barely keep up with the jolts of pleasure that rocketed through you as his cock head kissed your sweet spot.

the moment those three sweet words passed from your lips, scaramouche's cock ribboned more cum inside of you. groaning, he felt incredibly satisfied knowing you were fuller than the last time. you clung to him, your fingernails digging in his back. you could feel how wonderfully deep his cock was fucking into you.

you let out a whimper tinged moan, kissing him again as your orgasm flooded over you. "shh, shh," he cooed, holding you against him while you shook in pleasure, "you are fuller than before, i promise," he sucked and swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, making your walls flutter on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm.

pulling out, scaramouche put a hand on your cheek. your eyes half lidded and glazed in a fucked out expression. you turned your cheek into his hand. "what can i get you, kitten? do you want a bath? or a massage?" his bruises were starting to blossom dark on your skin. you were definitely going to (happily) feel them in the morning.

you shook your head. "no, sweetheart. i am fine," you said tiredly.

narrowing his eyes, scaramouche scoffed. "what?"

you giggled softly. "just come to bed with me and hold me," you were about to rest your forehead against his, but he abruptly sat up.

"let me fucking take care of you," you enjoyed and let him be so rough with you. you doted on him with every ounce of your heart and body when he fucking you. he was going to be damned if he didn't take care of you after.

"scara, it's okay. you are so sweet, but just hold me until i fall asleep," you smiled softly up at him.

"no, no," he said stubbornly. "i mean fuck, i was going to do that anyways. let me at least make you some hot chocolate or tea." he crossed his arms. he wasn't going to back down on this.

you promptly kissed him again.

[tra1nchi]

Day One:Mindcontrol!!!

MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader🎃🎃

Extra ⚠️:Siren character x caretaker,,fingering,,oral

He had always wanted a mate. Someone to cherish, someone to please but he was stuck, he couldn't leave and he could bearly even move in his tank. Forced to live in a facility that shows him off like a precious fish to drooling little kids.

He hates it. He wishes he could sing his heart out to make all the humans leave him alone. It was impossible of course. The tank was specially made for creatures like him, Sound proof and most importantly escape proof.

He could say the only good thing about his life was you, his personal sweet little caretaker. You weren't like the scientists that poked and prodded at him like he was some kind of dead salmon, you were special, Atleast to him you were.

You were the perfect candidate for a mate, too trusting of him. He was after all a siren at heart and sirens have a desire to hunt even if they aren't aware of it. He would slowly start to court you, innocent at first with simple shells from the bottom of his tank but soon his desire grew darker.

Slowly coaxing you to come above his tank, making you go against your job guidelines, sweettalking you at first until during one of your many visits, he finally broke. Unable to hold himself back any longer.

He sang to you. His voice slow and hypnotic and he couldn't deny the spark in his gut as he watched your pretty eyes glaze over. There wasn't a thought behind your eyes, if he knew that it would be that easy he would have done it ages ago!

Commanding you to sit down on the edge of your pool, his praise causing you to become even more lethargic by the second. "That's it, good boy." He mused as he quickly removed the bottom half of your clothing, his tail basically thumping against his tank wall from excitement.

"So hard for me already hm? Poor boy must like my singing~" His webbed hand reaches out to wrap around your dick, you couldn't resist or deny against the siren, too deep under the trance of his song. Stroking it up and down rhythmically, He didn't bother to hide the smirk at the sound of your breathy moans emitting from your lips.

"How cute." He mutters before leaning down, taking your dick into his mouth. His sharp teeth running down the underside of it. Laughing through your dick when he feels your body shuddering. His long tongue swirling around your tip and lapping up all the pre cum that your hypnotised dick leaked.

He seemed to get a little carried away. Losing track on how many times he made you cum by just his mouth. Pulling off your dick as he soothed you with a gentle lullaby before flipping you over, his eyes softening at how willingly exposed you were.

Spreading your ass apart just for his eyes as his sharp finger slipped in, lazily fingering your hole as his other hand groped and playfully slapped your ass. He knew that his mate would be nice and submissive for him and now that he had you, he would never let you leave his special trance.

[holdmytesseract]

Save a Bike, Ride a Biker

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You plan to surprise Daryl and give his bike a scrub. But before you are able to finish your good work, Daryl walks in on you...

Warnings: TWD stuff, weapons, smoking? fluff, cleaning a bike? suggestive smut

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,9k

a/n: This idea didn't come from me. @erebus-et-eigengrau hit me up with that thought, and I was like: YES, I'm turning this into a fic. I love it! Thank you so much for this, friend!

This song plays an important role:

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Warm, pleasant sunlight greeted you as you rolled out of bed. Smiling, you tiptoed barefoot over to the open window; letting the sun warm your skin for a moment and to take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It was going to be a very beautiful day today in Alexandria, as it seemed - much to your delight. Why? Because you'd be a woman on a mission today.

Of course you didn't fail to notice, that the other side of the bed was already cold and empty. Not quite surprising when your boyfriend was Daryl Dixon. You got used to mostly waking up alone. That made the mornings you did not wake up alone even more enjoyable and valuable.

Stretching your still tired limp, you made your way across the hallway to the bathroom; paying the toilet a quite urgent visit. After relieving your bladder of its burden, you made your way downstairs; actually aiming for the kitchen, but when you noticed the main door being ajar, you halted in your movements. Usually, the main door wasn't ajar - except when... You smiled and changed your direction; heading straight for the door. Peaking outside, your suspicion was proven right. Daryl was leaning against the wooden post, which stabilised the roof over the porch. Smoke was billowing in clouds through the air.

Not giving a flying fuck that you wore nothing more than your panties and one of Daryl's way too big t-shirts, you tiptoed over to him with a smile; running your arms over his back and encircling his waist. "I thought you already left," you prodded; pressing a kiss against his leather clad back. The archer didn't even flinch. He knew it was you. It wasn't the first time you had done this. All that was coming from him was a scoff. "Ain't leavin' withou' sayin' goodbye, sunshine. Ya know tha'." "Mhm," you hummed and rested your head against his back. You didn't say much and just enjoyed to hold him; letting his familiar scent invade your airways and clouding your brain. Daryl didn't have to say another word as well. He kept on smoking; finishing his cigarette, before stubbing it out and - well-behaved disposed the stub in the ashtray you placed on the railing of the porch, like you told him. You had been tired of collecting the cigarette stubs all over the porch, so you taught him to get rid of them properly; saving trouble and your nerves.

The archer turned in your embrace then; calloused hands finding your hips and deft fingertips playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow. "Ain't ya cold, sunshine?" Daryl asked; referring to your - some would say flimsy - outfit. You shook your head. "A little bit. But I don't care. You're warm and I just want to stay like this," you smiled up at him with a cute scrunch of your nose, before you buried your face in his chest. A grunt - very close to a small chuckle left his lips; hands wandering and arms wrapping you up in a hug.

The two of you stayed like that for a long while, until a whistle cut through the air, causing both your heads to turn to the left. Rick was standing down the street, waving at his brother and signalling him that they were good to go. "Gotta go, darlin'," Daryl stated the obvious and loosened the embrace around you - much to your dismay, but knew that you had to let go. "Be careful, yeah? I want your pretty ass back in one piece, understood?" You warned in a loving manner; gently caressing his sides. The archer scoffed at your words. "Ain't pretty." You giggled, "Yes, yes it is." and gave his ass a playful swat - which caused his cheeks to redden. "Y/N!" You just giggled more and shrugged your shoulders. Daryl was so cute when he was embarrassed. "Goddammit, woman..." He groaned and sighed almost overdramatic. You stood on your tippy-toes and pressed a sweet, apologising kiss on his chin; feeling his goatee tickle your lips.

And then you quickly shifted back from playful to serious. "I mean it, Daryl. Stay safe, okay? Look after yourself and Rick." He nodded and gently put his thumb and forefinger underneath your chin; softly angling your head upwards. "I promise. Ain't gettin' rid a me." "Good." You smiled and squeezed his middle softly; wordlessly asking for a kiss - and Daryl granted your wish. He dipped his head and met your lips for a sweet, but quick kiss.

"Think we'll be back 'fore dark." You nodded and let go of him; crossing your arms over your chest and watched the man you loved shoulder his crossbow and disappear down the street.

After starting properly into the day - which included a shower, getting dressed, brushing teeth and having a breakfast, you reported for watch duty; taking over for Rosita.

Once your shift was over, you baked some cookies and then finally had the time for the one thing you had planned today. Like mentioned... You were a woman on a mission... Namely giving Daryl's dirty bike a thorough scrub. The archer's beloved two-wheeler was more than dirty. Dirty was an understatement... Since he was more than occupied with leading the Sanctuary, building a bridge and doing runs, his bike was the one suffering from his busy schedule book. Therefore, that he drove with Rick to the bridge today, his bike was here - and that gave you in return the perfect opportunity to get the second love of his life spruced up. Plus, you wanted to surprise Daryl with it, because why not? He deserved it. And the bike as well.

So, you rolled the bike out of the small garage and on the little courtyard in front of the cute little house you and Daryl shared. "Alright, let's do this!" You said to yourself; preparing a bucket with hot water, some soap you found and a sponge. Before you got started, though, you pulled the little walkman you found out of the pocket of the shorts you wore, alongside the familiar cassette. Daryl found that walkman on a run a few months ago, together with a ton of cassettes and of course, he immediately thought of you - and you loved the archer for it.

You plucked in the headphones, pressed play and started your good work.

The music was loud. Not loud enough to attract any walkers or other possible threats outside the walls, but loud enough to be clearly heard by everybody who'd walk by. You didn't care, though. You were in the zone; somewhere on music cloud nine, all while dancing and vibing - and cleaning your boyfriend's motorcycle.

Therefore, that you were so caught up in your music and the task at hand, you neither realised how the sun started slowly to sink, nor how the archer walked down the street to your shared house; crossbow slung over his shoulder.

Music urged to Daryl's ears as he stopped right in front of the courtyard; eyes locked on you - cleaning his bike. The archer didn't have the time to question himself why the fuck you were doing that, since you started humming alongside to the tunes of 'Whole Lotta Love'. Led Zeppelin... Daryl shook his head; unable to suppress the smirk which wanted to spread over his lips. It was another moment in which he realised that he had fallen in love with the right woman.

It was all fun and games, until you picked up the dancing again - and oh, boy, you were a real good dancer...

It was so cliché. Who didn't know the typical image of a hot chick cleaning half naked a vehicle to preferably sexy music? Lots of soapy foam, sponges and wet bikini tops. If this would be a form, Daryl could tick all boxes - except that the bikini top was a sports bra.

He had to take a deep breath.

Damnit, it was cliché, but Daryl didn't give a fuck. He settled for enjoying the show and see how long it took you to notice him. So, he moved to sit on the porch, set aside his crossbow, lit a cigarette and let his blue-grey eyes linger on you; feeling his jeans just grow a little tighter.

Once the song was over, you gave the bike's saddle a last, finishing scrub, took a step back and admired your work. Smiling, you removed the headphones, from which the next rock song was already blaring; hands on your hips and definitely satisfied with the outcome of your mission. You were sure that Daryl was absolutely going to- "Thing ain’t ever looked tha' good. Not even 'fore I put it together."

The archer's voice suddenly sounding from behind you caused you to almost jump out of your skin. Turning quickly, you found your boyfriend sitting casually on the porch; cigarette pinned between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking hell, Daryl!" You exclaimed; taking a deep breath. "You scared the shit out of me!" The man squeezed an eye shut and ducked his head slightly. "Sorry. Didn't mean ta scare ya."

You smiled, shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest; feeling the wetness of the water and soap soaking the fabric of your bra even further. "How long have you been sitting there?" Daryl shrugged his shoulders; eyes definitely not directed on your face. More like... one floor below. "Dunno, least five minutes or so..." You raised an eyebrow; noticing immediately that he was a liiittle bit distracted. "Enjoyed the show, huh?"

Daryl licked his lips and finally lifted his gaze to meet yours. "Woulda lie if I said I didn't." He jutted his head at you and his beloved vehicle. "Did ya swap the horse fer ma bike now, sunshine?" You giggled; shaking your head. The archer knew that you mostly preferred one of the horses over an vehicle, so he just couldn't let the opportunity slip to tease you.

But you quickly recovered from the scare he had given you and unbeknownst to him ruining his own surprise. So, you had to make the best out of the situation and his forward pass - namely, pot the ball.

"Nope," you started; popping the p, "Just gave it the much needed scrub." and moved to lean against the bike; palms on the saddle to support your weight. "I'm rather saving the horse and steel horse and ride the cowboy instead."

You could've sworn that his jaw was on the verge of dropping, but Daryl Dixon being Daryl Dixon, masked his emotions and opted to play it cool instead. "Pff. Cowboy my ass."

Once more you raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "Oh, apologies, your majesty. I'll rephrase it." You cleared your throat. "I'm rather saving the horse and steel horse and ride the smokin' hot, crossbow wielding archer sitting on my porch instead." Daryl scoffed and merely shook his head. "Ain't 'smokin' hot'. If someone's smokin' hot 'round here, 's you."

You sighed; feeling flattered and a little sad at the same time. Flattered, because of Daryl's cute attempt to flirt, and sad because the wonderful, special, beautiful man across from you still had a hard time accepting compliments.

You'd work on that, but first you had to finish what you started - or might as well both.

Shaking your head, you made your way over to Daryl and climbed the few steps leading up to the porch and reached for the archer's free hand. "C'mon, handsome. We gotta save those bikes and horses..." He immediately shuffled and moved to stand up. "Can't say no to tha'," Daryl took a last drag of his cigarette and quickly discarded it into the ashtray; following you and leaving his crossbow behind on the porch. He wouldn't need it. Not for the next few hours.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) the nanny ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 김승민 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ fucking seungmin while his wife isn't home  ヾ

dilf!seungmin ・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎cheating, unprotected sex, rough sex, brat reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can i req for a dilf seungmin smut? or cheating 🥺

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 dilf seungmin is just 🤤

you had no business being here; you were off on the weekends and even though you were a live-in nanny there were no kids to nanny run around after or feed. his wife? the poor woman was out of the house , she'd taken the kids over to their grandparents for the weekend… so unaware of what was taking place in her very bed.

“how long until your wife gets home?” he flipped you around, slapping your ass. “fuck!” you yelped , he pulled your panties down , bunching your skirt up. “shut up.” he growled behind you. “always running that mouth of yours , would've stuffed my cock down your throat to shut you up if your pussy wasn't begging for me.”

so maybe during the week you teased him when when his wife was home , touching his cock when her back was turned , eye fucking him while sitting at dinner with his family , your legs trailing up at his— and he couldn't do anything at the time , until now , the house was empty; just you two , he was free to do anything he wanted to you , including the things he knew his vanilla wife wouldn't do.

“you wanna fuck around when i can't get to you?” his belt was wrapped around your wrist. “fucking slut , you thought i would get you alone?” he gritted his teeth. “your wife being home didn't stop you before.” you moaned , wiggling your ass in front of him. “remember the laundry room?”

of course he did; holding his hand over your mouth while he plowed into you over the running washer machine , pushing his cock into your mouth right as the dryer was running; all while his wife and kids were sleeping in their respective rooms.

“slut , you couldn't wait , needed me to fill this slutty pussy up so bad.” you felt his cock prodding your hole. “just like now -fuck- always needing me to fill this cunt up.” you moaned as he pushed himself inside you. “please fuck me.” you moved against him , he groaned. “that's right.” he tightened the belt , pulling. “keep fucking yourself.”

he finally let your arms go , but that didn't stop his assault on your poor cunt; instead he pushed your face in the pillows , plowing into you. “fuck fuck fuck.” you screamed. “the neighbors are gonna hear how much of a slut you are for me , do i need to cover that mouth up.”

“ju-just love your cock sir.” you moaned. “yeah? fuck , gonna cum all over my cock?” he hissed. “cum , cum all over my cock so i can stuff you full.” he grunted , your legs shaking as you came , his hands gripped the headboard as he thrusted inside you , he let out a loud moan , signaling he was about to cum. “fuck.”

he groaned , both of you heavily breathing. “shit.” he pulled out of you , watching the cum leak out of you , slapping your ass. “turn around.” he said.

“we've got at least 2 hours until she comes home , m'gonna stuff my cock down your slutty throat , open up.”

©LUVYENI

[l1tw1ck]

Not a Suspect

Bottom!Dean x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,292 ☆

probably ooc/plot dependent, I haven't watched in a while 😭

CW: Non-Con, First Time Bottoming, Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Semi Rough Sex, Blood Mention, Daddy Kink, Creampie

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Your hand is pressed against Dean’s neck, his back against the wall. You lifted him a few inches in the air in order to meet your eyes. You caught him snooping around your room.

“I- I thought this was my uncle’s house!” He smiles sheepishly. You're so much stronger than he is, he wasn't expecting to be put in a chokehold. “The door was unlocked so—”

“Save it. I’ve seen you and that other guy hanging around town snooping for information about that incident. You must think I’m a criminal, huh?”

“That's not the case, sir, I um—”

“Did you come to that conclusion after you searched my things?” You click your tongue then look him up and down. “I’ll let this slide though. As long as you make it up to me.”

“I uh, I have forty dollars-”

“Hmm.” You place him on the ground and turn him around. You grab his wallet from his back pocket and find an ID. Your old jobs gave you the skill of knowing what's fake and what's real. “Of course. I knew you weren't a real detective.” You laugh.

“I’m an undercover investigator!”

“Uh huh.” You find a secret pocket and find his real ID. “There we go. Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears burn red. He can't believe he's in this situation and that he can't fight back, something about this is making him feel timid. Sam warned him not to do this but he didn't think he'd feel so helpless against you. He’s fought much stronger and scarier creatures than you but it's different when it comes to humans. You can't figure out their motives so easily.

You drop his wallet and lean over, unbuckling his belt then forcefully pulling his pants down. “Hey! What are you doing?!” He flails around defiantly.

“Stop moving.” You use his belt to tie his wrists together.

“I’m not gay!”

“You really think I care, sweetheart?” You pull down his boxers. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” You spread his ass open and spit on his rim before forcefully shoving a finger inside him.

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Stop!”

You chuckle. “I know your type. You gag at the mere idea of having sex with another guy.” You force another finger inside him and start stretching him out. “Then, once you do, you love it like the little slut you really are. Trust me.”

His entire face is red with humiliation. “You're wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.” You find his prostate. Dean moans, his knees buckling. If it weren't for your hand on his waist, he’d probably fall. “There it is.” You say gently, your husky voice making him feel strange. You continue to prod at his prostate, reveling in his strained whimpers. He’s trying so hard not to make a sound. He clenches his fists and aggressively bites down on his lip as you continue to pleasure him, although he doesn't want to admit that.

He will admit that it hurts. A lot. Dean rests his forehead on the wall. He hates how good it feels despite everything, your thick fingers stretch him out so well. His face is so hot it feels like he has a fever. “Ah–” Dean gasps. “No- no—” He shuts his eyes tightly and lets out a muffled moan as he comes, splattering the wall with his cum.

“Good boy~” You praise him, slowly sliding your fingers out. It feels like Dean’s head is going to explode. “I’m a little too impatient to keep going.”

Dean gulps at the sound of your belt falling to the ground and your fly being unzipped. There's nothing he can do to stop you. You take out your hard length and press the tip against his rim. You lick your lips and begin to force yourself inside. “You're tight, baby.” You groan, pressing your chin on his shoulder. His palms begin to bleed from how tightly he's clenching his fists, it's too painful for him.

“Fuck—” He breathes out. You're big.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” You coo, reaching out for his weeping cock. “Let me help you.”

Dean moans as you begin to roughly stroke his dick. “Sto- stop–” A single tear runs down his cheek. You're reaching so far inside him. He rolls his eyes back as you bring him closer to his climax.

“It’s all in, baby.” You bottom out. “How’s it feel?”

“It fucking hurts–” He hisses, more tears running down his cheeks. “You bastard– ah~!” He comes once again.

“You're cute when you whine.” You slowly pull back then shove your cock back inside. Dean rolls his eyes back and lets out a slutty sounding moan. You grin and start thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. You look at his beat red face, his mouth remaining open to let out his pathetic moans. “‘S good, isn't it?”

Dean shakes his head despite his body betraying him. “No- No~!”

“You're not good at lying.” You place your hand on his throat, lifting his head up. “Admit it. You like getting fucked.”

He bites down on his lip and rips a bit of skin, blood trickling down. You lean in closer and lick up his blood. “You like how Daddy spreads open your tight hole, don't you, baby?”

He lets out a muffled whimper, his cock weakly spurting out another rope of cum.

You chuckle. “I know I’m right.” You let go of his neck and stroke his dick again. “You’re just a pretty little cock whore.”

“Nnh- No-” He moans. Dean is well aware of the fact that his lies are completely unbelievable. He doesn't want to like this at all.

“Yeah? You really think you're not? You think you're not into this?” You laugh again. “No, Dean, you're a slut who loves taking cock. You love how it feels to have a cock in your ass. Admit it.”

“I don't- I don-” He pauses, drool spilling from his lips as you stroke his sensitive cock.

“Be honest, slut.” You rub the tip of his length with your thumb. Dean has another orgasm. He…He really does like it.

He whimpers adorably. “Don't…Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say smugly, smirking. He shivers. You let go of his poor length and pull out. You turn him around and lift him up by his thighs, pushing his back against the wall. He looks at you in embarrassment as you slide your length back inside him and roughly fuck him.

Dean moans more freely than before, his eyelashes fluttering like a hand fan. He wraps his arms around you for stability. “Fuck~! Wai- wait~!” He gasps.

“I can't control myself, your cunt feels too fucking good.”

He mewls. You lean in and sloppily make out with him. You’re driving him insane. You slide your hand up underneath his shirt and rub your thumb against his nipple. He moans into your mouth. His nipples have always been sensitive but it feels even better in this situation.

You pull away and let out a groan. “Gonna come, sweetheart, right in this tight ass of yours.”

“Mmh- yes~” Dean really feels like a slut now. You were right.

You chuckle and let out a low sound of pleasure as your thrusts slow to a halt, your cock spurting hot ropes of cum into his cunt. “There you go, getting your ass stuffed is a much better job for you.” You pull out and drop him onto your bed. “Should I call you a cab?”

He shakes his head. He doesn't want to leave. “Can I stay?”

You chuckle. “Sure. And you know what? I know a few things about that incident you're looking into.”

[bunnys-kisses]

. 。・゜✭・mean・✫゜・。.

max verstappen liked to make you cry. it wasn't your fault, you were the sister of his infamous rival so if max couldn't make charles cry then he'd make you cry. that time he hid your favourite teddy bear and teased you for loving it so much as a teenager. the other time he pushed you into a corner and got into your face how something so pathetic shouldn't be in the paddock getting in everyone's way. you remember when he scared off a sweet boy that you were talking to a year before max left for f1, you saw how he stalked to you. you'd always remember it like a lion being possessive over a specific gazelle it wanted to feast on. only max could work you bones between those massive teeth. he loved the waterworks, how you'd sniffle and your eyes would be rimmed a deep red. how you'd wipe your eyes frantically and your plush bottom lip would wobble. it lit something sick in a young max. you learned that even bullies can win prizes and races, get sponsorships and get his way into formula one.

and what turned into teasing from a bratty teen boy turned into an insatiable hunger in adulthood. even now well into his twenties, that front lobe full developed, max still liked to make you cry. except instead of calling you names or pulling your hair, he was bullying that sweet pussy of yours. his large hand over your mouth as he had you bent in half against the couch in his driver's room. you had taken a week off of school to come see your brother, but max got you into his space before you could find charles. and that was when the fun began. you looked up at the wold champion with big, wet eyes. the tears trickled down a little onto max's hand. max replaced his hand with his other one to he could lick the salty tears off of it. the taste made him shudder, it was like tasting sparkling diamonds. the richest feeling he could have only on par with his fat cock shoved into your achy cunt. he continued to fuck you, watching your expressions change with each thrust of his hips. he had to make sure that his leaky cock was stuffed deep in your pretty hole.

the wetness in your eyes only excited him more, he continued to fuck you up against the couch, keeping you pinned under him as he fucked the daylights out of you. his weepy little cry baby.his cock touched the deepest parts of you, he wanted to make sure every last drop got pushed into the back of your pussy. letting his poor cock just batter the hell out of your sweet cunt. he had been with a fair number of women, but he was your first (and only). he wouldn't allowed anyone else to touch and your brother was (unknowingly) his guard dog. charles would never let you date someone, his only sister should be focusing on her studies. not focused on boys. but yet, max verstappen was bullying your pussy and making your mascara run down your sweet cheeks. poor thing looked like a raccoon.max silenced you with a kiss and his palms on your bare breasts.

max wanted to breed that sweet little cunt. see your bottom lip wobble as you tell your older brothers (who thought you were a virgin) that you were becoming a mother to the next greatest in formula one. don't worry, he'd make sure you were nice and safe, of course you could finish your schooling. but you might have to do it in monaco because he wanted to be with his baby. the three of you somewhere safe. you'd be closer to your family then you were before, he'd make sure that you lived a charmed life. as his, all his. his cock prodded against sensitive parts of you and you felt your brain go numb. you choked back whines as he held your mouth once more. let him just get a good feel for your soft, gentle cunt. he needed to make sure you could fit all of him, after all he'd be the only one who'd ever fuck you. you sniffled and looked at him with wet eyes. he licked his lips. you looked divine, like an angel. the kind that max got his claws into and plucked all their feathers off. the sounds of your fucking were messy and wet. you swallowed back all the moans you could, but you felt limp against him. your tears reaching your chin. you sniffled and maintained eye contact and felt the twist in your core. you looked so cute, he had made a total mess of you. you looked so pretty, the center of max's world. the subject of so many fantasies. but as your eyes almost roll back from the pleasure of it, all max couldn't get enough. he'd every way he could, make sure that a few tears slipped out. he was sadistic, but the hunger grew every time he went without. he'd be good to you, just let him finish inside. it's where it was meant to be.

"max."

the world champion loved to make you cry, except instead of pulling your pigtails. his hand was deep in your hair as he forced you up and down on his cock, drooling creamy promises into your soaked cunt.

[plasticferal]

can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest

take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.

warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.

you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.

"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.

"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.

"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.

"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.

"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.

"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.

"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.

you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.

"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.

"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.

"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.

"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.

you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.

they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.

"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.

you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.

"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.

"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.

you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.

"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.

"i can't answer tha-"

"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.

"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.

"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.

you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.

you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.

"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.

you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.

"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.

"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.

he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.

"you wanna touch 'em?"

"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.

"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.

"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.

you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.

"go on." matt replies.

"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.

making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.

"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"

"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.

“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.

you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.

“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.

your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.

matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.

“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.

he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.

“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.

this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.

matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.

you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.

“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.

“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.

“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.

"you're right," he pauses.

"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.

"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.

"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.

"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.

"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.

the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.

your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.

"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.

you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.

matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.

the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.

you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.

matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.

"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.

"god, matt," you exhale.

you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.

"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.

"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.

"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.

his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.

"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.

"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.

"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.

"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.

he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.

"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.

when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.

you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.

"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.

your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.

you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.

matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.

"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.

you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.

"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.

"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.

"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.

"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.

you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.

you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.

regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi, I wanted to ask if you could make a batbro who is a clone of batman and supermam and the batfamily and the superfamily fight over who will get him (you can also make him a few months younger than damian and jon and also a cute moment with families please)

Sure, of course I can. They would totally fight. Absolutely everyone. I'm running out of gif ideas... I don't know what to do anymore... Also, this is under Clark kent masterlist, just to let everyone know... I the batfam list is getting too long... I don't know what to do anymore.

Summary: (Y/N) is a clone of Superman and Batman. Fighting ensues.

Warnings: none really, just a (Y/N) clone, nothing graphic or anything in that matter.

Superman and Batman has found that that Lex Luthor has been making clones, yet again. However, Lex has decided to spice the situation up. How, I might hear you asking? With Conner, Lex only used Bruce's DNA. Aka Batman's. Turns out that the boy was growing up like a normal child, in terms of development. However...

That doesn't mean that his childhood was anything but normal. Bring prodded, examined... Being taught how to use his powers to be a weapon. He wasn't being treated like a normal person, a human, should be treated. The fact that (Y/N) grew up physically like a child, meant that they had more time to manipulate (Y/N).

Bruce was appalled at the news of having a clone made from his own DNA and Clark, however, he was livid when he saw that (Y/N) was growing like a normal child, physically, so that would mean he is young.

Younger then Damian and Jon... Bruce nearly exploded with anger once he saw (Y/N), so young, so afraid... Damian was older by a couple of months. Superman was disgusted by Lex Luthor and has vowed to bring him down somehow. No matter what it took. And it tugged at his heart too. Jon was also a few months older than (Y/N).

Both fathers saw red. Pure and utter red. Clones are still human beings... Seeing (Y/N) so afraid, utterly terrified of them... Bruce, despite his code, wanted to rip Lex's throat out. He really wanted to. Clark was no better either.

Thankfully, karma has hit Lex. Bruce and Clark woke up in their respective cities on morning, when the breaking news hit. Bruce was confused. Crime in Gotham happen during the night. Rarely during the day. Only if it's something that involves the Justice League.

So, Bruce was curious and decided to watch the news.

Tax invasion. Damn tax evasion. And a whole lot more of financial crimes. Bruce had to sit down in the living room, on his arm chair.

" Who would have thought... The bastard is also greedy. " Jason mutter from the kitchen, sipping some coffee to fully wake up.

" Deja vu of Al Capone. Couldn't get Lex on meta human trafficking and what not, but on finances. " Tim said and Dick chuckled at the comparison. Al Capone, a big mafia boss, brought down by the all mighty IRS. And now Lex too.

" It seems so. These are nice news, " Damian said as he sipped his tea.

" I agree Damian. This is a nice way to actually start your morning... Did Titus eat? " Bruce asked, bringing his mug up to sip his coffee.

" Yup. He is now out and about playing with Pennyworth, " Damian said, referencing the cat, not the person.

" Okay. " Bruce then stood up, cracking his neck. " I'm going to the League, I need to check on (Y/N) and how he is doing. And don't worry, we are having our movie night. " Bruce reassured everyone as he finished his coffee and put it in the sink for Alfred.

" How is he doing anyway? " Jason asked and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

" We are trying our best, but he is still scared. " Bruce explained and everyone nodded.

" That's no surprise. " Damian said as he finished up his tea. Bruce nodded, getting ready to leave the room.

" Please don't fight. Any of you. " Bruce said before he left the room, making everyone chuckle.

" (Y/N) is staying with us Bruce! End of the discussion! " Clark raised his voice, making Bruce scoff. It's been a few weeks since Lex Luthor was arrested and (Y/N) has been doing much better, so much so that there was a big difference. And it was noticeable. (Y/N) talked more, tried to smile more...

Everyone stepped up for him and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Once (Y/N) got better in every aspect of that word, talks about where he would live after he was stable enough to be released. At first it started objectively, but as time passed, both families have gotten attached.

And that's why this argument was going on.

On one side, you have Clark and his 'Superfamily' on one side and you have Batman and his 'Batfamily.' Both patriarchs of the families argued with everything in them, trying to keep (Y/N) with them. Conner and Jon were ready toe to toe with the bat boys and vice versa.

" What can you do to help him? And if you bring up Conner as experience in clones, I'm going to use Kryptonite on you and make sure you can't get out of bed for the next 10 years! I know all of your weak spots! " Bruce threatened making Clark scoff.

" Oh please, I know all of your weak spots too! (Y/N) would benefit more in Metropolis than Gotham! More so on in our household! Your boys fight every chance they get! "

Bruce and Clark continued to bicker, both of them standing their grounds. The 'bat boys' glared at Clark and Damian was ready to fight with Jon. The other 3 were ready to take Conner on.

" What's going on? " (Y/N) asked as he came in, hearing all the commotion, even from the hall. Everyone froze and started acted friendlier, not as if they were just arguing like cats and dogs.

" Nothing, we are just talking about where you should live. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) nodded.

" Do you have a preference? About where you want to live? With me or Bruce? " Clark asked and (Y/N) tilted his head, clearly thinking about it.

(Y/N) loved them both equally. He was not really sure with whom he wanted to live with.

" What about I spend some time with one and some time with another? " (Y/N) proposed and everyone stopped for a second to think.

That isn't a bad idea.

" Paired with his online schooling once he starts... I like it. " Clark said and Bruce nodded, also agreeing with this idea.

" Good thinking (Y/N). " Bruce said. Clark and Bruce could work around this. The best option would be 6 months with Clark and 6 months with Bruce.

" How about a group hug? " (Y/N) suggested, making everyone jump in, ready to hug it out. Bruce and Clark joined last, hugging their boys too.

" Why didn't we think of this idea? " Clark asked and Bruce chuckled.

" Because we are idiots apparently. " Bruce answered and both chuckled.

" I guess we are. " Clark confirmed.

" Yeah, you are. " (Y/N) chimed in, making everyone laugh. " You could have just asked me what I preferred. " (Y/N) said and everyone nodded.

" I guess we should have. " Bruce said, reaching to pat (Y/N)'s head.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Vox Kink Headcanons

Personal kink headcanons for my beloved tv man Vox. Not doing the more obvious/universally accepted kinks. Instead I'm writing about some of my more... niche takes.

WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader, but is AFAB for the last section; all the kinky shit obviously; Valentino mention (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Domestic Kink ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

For those who don't know, a domestic kink is being turned on by doing everyday couple things. Things like cooking, cleaning, that type of thing. Vox basically gets turned on by you two being a couple and taking care of each other. The man is so love starved he just gets sent to another planet by those simple everyday shows of affection.

If you start helping Vox get dressed in the mornings, he will melt into a puddle. Every. Time.

It started simple enough, Vox was in a rush so you thought to help him put on his coat. Sliding it onto him, adjusting the collar, straightening his bowtie... You didn't notice how still he went until you went to fix his sleeves and you looked up into his wide, almost feral eyes.

Vox desperately crashed his lips against yours as he pulled your bodies flush together causing you to squeak. Only then did you feel how hard you had made him as he grinded into you... Needless to say, Vox had to reschedule his entire morning.

Vox will come home to you cooking dinner and just bend you over the counter. Whispering in your ear, 'Your so sweet doing this for me, Sugar. Now let me take care of you."

I have had the scenario floating around of you making Vox breakfast in bed one morning just as something nice to do for him. You dont think too much of it, he has been so tired and overworked lately so you figure any extra sleep he can get would do wonders for him

Vox however, absolutely fucking loses it. When you wake him up with tray in hand, he... just kind of stares at you. What do you mean you already made breakfast? Wait you have breakfast? For him? For him in bed?

You actually thought the man might have bluescreened. It takes you setting the tray down and grabbing his hand before he starts moving again.

Vox pulls you into his lap and starts peppering kisses all over you. He just cant believe that this is actually happening; that your here with him, that you did such a sweet thing, and oh god does he love you so much.

He actually is daydreaming about it the rest of the day and bragging about it whenever he can.

Comes home early that evening just to surprise you and spend a romantic evening together (totally not because he accidentally pent himself up gushing over you all day ABSOLUTELY NOT).

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Recording/Being Recorded ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

(This one might not be a niche take but I'm putting it here anyway cause I want to yap about it)

I wasn't quite sure if there was a specific name for this kink. But what I mean by this is Vox loves to specifically record you two having sex. Like an amateur porn thing. However. These videos are meant for his eyes only.

Vox would murder anyone who so much as tried to get their hands on these videos. God help them if they actually saw one. Its not even a matter of honor or anything, its a matter of only Vox is allowed to see you come apart like that. Vox is the only one allowed to hear you make those sounds.

Vox honestly isnt going to even bring this whole 'recording you two' thing up unless he trusts you completely. Even then he is super sheepish the first time he asks about it. Vox knows your going to be suspicious and, yeah, you rightfully are due to his association with the porn moth.

It takes a bit of prodding for you to get out of Vox that he sees it as a different way to enjoy you. To experience you. He will get to see your beautiful body at angles he never could while he plows into you. He can finally see the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he eats you out, diving his tongue as far into you as it can go.

Vox is over the moon when you finally agree to let him place a camcorder in your shared bedroom.

You viscerally notice how much more relaxed and strangely content Vox seems to be next time you two have sex. Vox always had this certain tension to him and its just... gone now.

What you don't realize is that 'tension' was Vox's underlying fear of how transient you were. He was always trying to absorb as much of you as he could, to memorize every part of you. But now he felt like he could truly let himself enjoy the moment knowing that he will be able to listen to your heavenly sounds on repeat, analyze every little twitch he causes, and fully see every expression you make.

A deep, deep, dark part of Vox want to tell Valentino to cancel every shoot he has for a day. To reserve the studio just for you two. To spend an entire day taking you in every way imaginable. Bringing you to bliss in every messy way he possibly can. Getting you to make every obscene noise that beautiful voice of yours can make.

But Vox knows that he could never trust Valentino to not make a copy of you two for himself. So he will stick to his amateur recordings. Anything to keep you safe and to himself.

Whenever Vox is missing you at work (or whenever he gets a free moment honestly), he starts watching back one of your now countless sex tapes. He will let the odd feeling of comfort wash over him as he sees the adoring looks you give him and hears you two exchange words of love. God, he can't wait to get back home to you.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Cock Warming ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

OKAY. I think I've gotten the point across that Vox is a certified lover boy™ who basically wants to imbibe your very being. Whelp. This is just more of that.

Don't get me wrong, Vox loves sex. Sex is great. But having you on his lap, his cock inside you, the two of you as close as two beings can physically get, and just- enjoying that... It hits differently you know?

Say its due to his mechanical nature all you want, (insert joke about 'plugging in' here) but Vox loves to feel like you two are truly connected. When your bodies actually become one like this, he is just that much closer to perfect.

As stated previously, will let you sit on his lap and cockwarm him anytime you please. Vox's absolute favorite times are when he has to do work ironically. He can never stop the blissful smile he makes as he has you in his lap. Vox will gently hold you with one arm while the other tries to get work done. You always end up giggling whenever you kiss up the side of his neck or monitor and Vox lets out the most contented sighs.

Honestly, just start going to work with him, becoming his personal cocksleeve whenever he is in his monitor room. A blanket draped over the two of you to hide what's actually going on.

Since the poor guy has no choice but to sleep on his back; you can easily do the same thing for bedtime. Climb on top of him and delicately slide him inside of you. Vox will just look up at you with the most lovedrunk expression as you bend over him and nuzzle into his neck, your body draping over his, and Vox pulling you impossibly close as you both fall asleep.

Its times like this that Vox questions why anyone would even need heaven.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

One of my favorite posts that just goes over a evening being Vox's s/o can be found >>HERE<<, its by the talented @lqveharrington

Another really good post by @liveontelevision where Vox gets jealous of your work with Valentino and decides to start recording you can be found >>HERE<<

Then lastly, quick headcanons by @voxsremotec0ck where Vox is spying on the reader then catches you masturbating can be found >>HERE<<

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (4) - Solution

Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 3.5k

Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3

Snow.

Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?

It didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread  across the swell of your cheeks.

A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity. 

It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.

The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.

You did recognise that scent… and your  smile immediately dropped.

The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.

Then you plummeted without looking back. 

An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.

As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You were squirming and screaming.”

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face. 

Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did. 

As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.

Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”

You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.

It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.

But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest. 

Right.

Vampire.

No body heat unless he was well fed.

“Did I… say anything?”

The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”

“Good.”

Hold on… grunts and… moans?

“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”

Typical.

A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.

The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.

For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.

You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell. 

It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.

No.

It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.

Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.

“What's on your mind?” 

His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”

“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”

You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, we can.”

“Astarion.”

He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”

It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.

But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”

He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”

You simply ignored him.

And Astarion hated being ignored.

So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.

“I would just like to point out that–”

His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.

You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.

“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”

Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.

You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.

“Wyll!”

Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.

His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.

Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.

“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”

He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”

His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”

“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed. 

“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent. 

“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”

You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.

However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.

“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”

Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”

“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.

Great.

Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.

“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”

He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.

Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you.  “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”

Your heart soared high. 

“However…”

Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.

“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”

Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.

“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.

“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”

Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”

Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”

He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned. 

Besides, you had nothing to fear.

Justice was on your side.

But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.

Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”

He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”

A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.

It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.

Not without him.

Or even without Astarion.

“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”

You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.

His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.

“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.

“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.

“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

“I shall have some fruit sent over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, you can get me out of here.”

Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.

You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”

“Right.”

Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.

With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.

Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”

Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”

You didn't reply.

But it was probably both.

“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”

“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”

Good point.

You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”

Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.

“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”

“... but?”

You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”

He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”

Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous. 

It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.

Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.

“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”

You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. 

Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.

Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal. 

Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.

“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet. 

His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”

Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”

“I know you're lying.”

You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”

One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all. 

He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.

Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.

Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.

The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.

It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time. 

Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.

“You're getting out of here.”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.

“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.

Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm  afraid.”

Oh.

It was to be expected, really…

“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”

“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.

“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”

It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.

“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”

Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”

“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.

“I did invite him – more than once.” 

“And I declined every single time.”

You rolled your eyes.

As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.

“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”

Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.

“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”

He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…

“We will have someone fetch it for you.”

“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”

Wyll nodded in silence.

You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.

“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”

You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.

The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.

The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.

A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.

Convenient for Astarion.

Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.

“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”

You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”

He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”

“I suppose.”

There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned. 

You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.

“Thank you, Wyll.”

“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”

Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind. 

“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.

“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.

“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”

Your head snapped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”

You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”

“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”

You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.

“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”

He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”

“I didn't yell–”

One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.

Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.

You sighed. “This is pointless.”

“Agreed.”

As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.

Gale and Shadowheart.

You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”

Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”

“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”

Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”

You nodded. “Within reason.”

She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”

“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”

The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.

You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.

“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”

He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.

Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.

Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods. 

“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”

He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”

You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.

“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.

His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.

“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”

You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated. 

Series Masterlist

Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌

Next chapter: Confrontation

I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷

[appleblueberry-pie]

hear me out- yandere Miguel capturing us after we managed to escape from his lair (he kidnapped us) and us dealing w/ the consequences he put up for us 👀

Anyways thank youuu 🤭

I Thought You Knew Better Than This.

You've never thought your own home could look so ruined. He threw and destroyed everything. Your walls covered in claw marks in certain places with big and heavy pieces of furniture destroyed and laying on the opposite side of the room it's supposed to be on. You tried to make minimal sound as his hand on the back of your shirt continued to hurt you. Miguel hasn't stopped breathing heavy since he found you hiding in your little corner. He was seething. Absolutely furious with how the way things have turned out. It was supposed to be a simple day today. He drowns you in his luxury and money while he also indulges in the feelings of happiness that your happiness gives him. But when he was distracted and had his back turned, you disappeared without a second to spare, taking his patience and mercy with you.

Even though he wasn't wearing the symbol of his power, his spider-suit, something about him wearing just regular clothes while chasing you as if he was a predator catching his prey made your heart pang in fear. You said nothing and kept to yourself as he practically shoved you into the fully formed portal.

When you two were back into your very carefully decorated and designed (he would call this your real bedroom in your real home)bedroom meant for your comfort and safety, Miguel sat on the edge of the bed and had you planted on his lap. Your back touched his hot chest and your each of your legs were spread out with the outer sides of his own.

You swallowed thick bile and continued to keep your mouth shut. Your eyes roamed around your room in hopes of self soothing your erratic inner turmoil. Miguel grabbed the lower part of your face and turned you to make eye contact with him. His eyes held some sense of control within him, but you knew his heart was telling an entirely different story. You tried your best not to look away, knowing how he feels about eye contact.

"Por qué te fuiste?"(Why did you go?) His voice was quiet as he asked. He spoke to you as if you were a child, and truth be told, you really really didn't want to tell him why. But the last thing you should ever do is lie. Especially to him. "I just.....I didn't want to be with you." You silently croaked out the answer, guilt showing in your eyes, but he didn't care. "Hm? Don't I give you everything? Don't I take good care of you? Papi no te cuida bien?"(Doesn't daddy take care of you?)

You slowly nod and he shakes his head. "I don't understand. Help me understand why you thought it was a good idea to run away. Please." You stutter as you try to answer as his hand somehow sneaked past your pants to rub his cold fingers on your clit through your underwear. ".......B-because I-" "Because you don't think. You just act immediately on your thoughts and leave me to clean up your mess. This is why I make you stay home."

No matter how hard you tried to ignore his fingers, your body somehow managed to build pleasure from the constant stimulation he was giving you. "I'm sorry." He rolls his eyes and begins to take off your pants. "Yeah." You didn't want to think about what he wanted to do with you. You drop the pants onto the floor once they pool around your ankles and Miguel manhandles you over his lap.

"Wait, no, Miguel. I don't wanna do this, I'm not ready!" You feel his digits prod at your entrance as best as they could through the small and unnecessarily damp part of your underwear that he caused. "It never seems like you're ready for me to give you any of your punishments, mi cielo. But don't you think it's time for me to give you what you deserve?" You squirm under his hold, and he rightfully continues to hold you down.

"No!" He coos at you while staring down at your panties, shoving the piece of the cloth to the side to access you more easily. "Mmmm, I think I should." Two of his digits poke at your hole and your shame drastically increases as you automatically whine at the feeling, squirming in his arms.

You hated, hated getting sexual with him. It wasn't fair that he had more experience than you and could play with you like an instrument, making you sing every song known to man. He was so good at touching you, you never wanted to try it again since the first time it happened. Knowing how hard it was to not only ignore him, but also how hard it was to go against his word when you and him both knew he could make you feel so good in ways you didn't think was humanly possible.

Miguel looks back up to see your reaction as he inserts his fingers and you immediately go silent. His fingers thrust inside of you two, three times and then on the fourth time, curls on that spot and you squeeze your eyes shut. A very small upward curve makes itself known on Miguel's face. He softly praises you and continues working your pussy out. "There, we go, bebé. No se siente increíble? Déjame escucharte."(Doesn't that feel amazing? Let me hear you). Your hands tighten their hold on his thigh and you shake your head no. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, licking them clean before tossing you onto the bed, immediately taking his hard cock out of his pants. "Está bien, nena."(That's okay, baby) He almost seems to say his words excitedly, rushing to mount your ass, one of his hands on the small of your back to keep you in place, his head hanging to watch the hot tip of his cock slip between the plush doors to his only escape to reality, indulging in you entirely. "........Tengo otras maneras de hacerte cantar."(I have other ways of making you sing.) He was gone, too far gone to stop and it was all of your fault.

He lets out a shaky sigh, leaning down to connect his chest to your back, now moving the hand that once was restricting you so that his body can take that role, and instead putting his hand in your hair to move your face to meet his. You look up at him with those adorable glossy eyes, the tears threatening to drop down your pretty cheek only makes him smile. "You did this to yourself, baby. Don't be so sad. All you have to do is let me do the work, okay? Just relax." Then his lips connect with yours in a sweet, loving kiss that you fucking hated. But your opinion never mattered in these moments, and it especially didn't matter when he kept deepening the kiss, groaning into your mouth as you felt him very gently intrude your entrance.

His kisses. His kisses successfully distracted you. Those plush lips making you forget your words. And when his tip oh, so gently kissed that spot inside of you when he was fully in, you felt your mind begin to buzz and didn't even realize you stopped trying to resist. Miguel took that moment to let his hands roam your heavenly body. There were only a few times he got to do this, and sadly, it was only when he was having sex with you. He wanted to be able to touch you every day. He wanted his hands to touch your stomach, your sides like this every morning and every night. He wanted to soothe your mind and body like this every day in any way he could, outside of a sexual context, because he knows he could. He just wishes you would love him back so he can give you what you truly deserve. Own him like you truly deserve.

But then he remembers you telling him he wasn't shit, his love wasn't shit, you wanted him dead, wanted him gone, he was worth nothing and the only thing you'd enjoy would be him in the dirt. Dead, gone, cold and forever silent, out of your mind. But what about all of this he built for you? What about those mornings you'd be in his arms and immediately realized you cuddled him all of the damn time in your sleep? What about those times he had to help you cook, had to help you with those weirdos who cat-called you outside, had to help you with your stress? Your pain that he took away from you? Just like this?

What about that? "Nothing I do is ever enough for you." His hips slowly roll into yours and you focus on the sheets in front of you, ignoring his crazy talk. "Maybe I should try giving you all that I got. Maybe then, you'll learn to be thankful." He grabs you by the waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed. Both pairs of feet touch the ground, but you both remain bent over the bed. His hands grab onto yours and pulls them up, giving you no space or peace of mind to be able to ignore anything he's doing to you.

The soft rolling picks up speed and force, the jabs he makes inside of you increasing in pleasure with each thrust. You begin making sounds you can't control, and Miguel smothers you with kisses on your neck, praising your actions.

You hated him. You hated how you began leaning into his affection and relaxed at his words as he fucked the logic out of your mind. You hated how he numbed your tongue and continued to abuse your sweet spot constantly, knowing how sweet you'll be to him afterwards. And even when you grind back into him, all of your muscles tensing as he rubs at your clit during your orgasm, you still find a way to try and curse his name, only for it to come out of your mouth as if he was an angel from heaven.

Miguel pulls out to shoot his load onto the sheets, knowing the relationship you two have isn't something he wanted his child to see. It'd take a few more months.

You let him clean you, wash the sheets, feed you and put you to bed. And you couldn't find it in you to complain, let alone have any kind of opinion of what just happened. Not when you were this tired. Miguel decided to skip work for the rest of the night to sleep with you. You don't say anything.

You curled into his arms, knowing the next morning will just be a mental battle with yourself over giving in or continuing this exhausting fight you were putting up. His hand softly caresses your head, the other one holding your body close to his. He is whispering to you in such a soft and lovely tone, it just makes you wonder how obsessed he really is with you. Skin to skin. He lulls you to sleep and stays awake for a good while, just to embrace the moment he's never given. Then follows you into his subconscious.