#it's a dare because i lost a bet

[zianourryisforever]

Caring for Zayn: 1D Fanfiction

(remember, in no way is this supposed to represent the boys. This is merely fanfiction and basically has nothing to do with them)

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Zayn couldn't remember the last time he felt so ill. Maybe it was when he forgot to take a coat outside when it was raining in western London, or when Johnny, the new guy on his management team, yelled at him for an hour because his voice wasn't 'up to date'.

Zayn buried his head in his pillow in the single hotel room they shared (no other room was available and they wouldn't want it any other way anyway). He felt Harry rise from his side of the bed, his lips kissing the side of Zayn's head before sighing and going towards the kitchen. He opened his eyes just wide enough to watch Harry make tea and turn on the bright lights. He groaned and through the white duvet over his head.

In true Zayn fashion, he used his arms to get up, stretching like a seal before he collapsed back down. Weird, it wasn't like his arms to be this weak. His head lolled to the other side, watching as Niall scrolled through what he believed to be social media.

"Nialler?" Niall hummed, a sign that he'd heard Zayn. "Can you get me a glass of water?" And suddenly, it hurt to look at Niall again; Zayn covered his face with his tattooed covered hand, whimpering softly as needles started to prick his brain.

Thankfully (or perhaps unthankfully), Niall didn't hear him and went to the kitchen, talking rather loudly to Harry. Zayn hissed and covered his ears as Louis, who until that moment was drowsily trying to start his day, lost his temper with Niall. Zayn's protectiveness flared up, but only for a moment. Niall didn't seem to be bothered; it was too much effort to try and yell at Louis anyway.

"Here you go, darling," the Irish boy put a glass of water next to Zayn's bedside table. His voice was still incredibly loud and Zayn couldn't help but turn from the noise. "Zayn?" A pair of cold hands, too cold hands, grabbed Zayn's bare shoulders and turned him up, sending Zayn into a near faint. The lights were too bright, the lights were too bright.

"You're too hot," Niall commented, a frown upon his soft face. Zayn, even though he felt absolutely shitty, felt a smirk growing on his face.

"Really, love?" Zayn tilted his chin up, letting his lips brush gently against Niall's. Niall rolled his eyes and kissed him lovingly before standing up, letting his fingers turn through Zayn's long hair. Zayn arched his back, sending a snicker through Louis.

"Shut up, Tommo,"

"You're so cute," Louis replied, jumping on the taller boy, thinking that the noise of discomfort was just his sudden weight against the leaner boy. "And damn, Niall's right," something akin to concern crossed his eyes before it disappeared. Louis looked up and Zayn, being the curious lad he was, looked up to what could've caught his attention so quickly.

Suddenly, Zayn felt a flutter go through his chest as Liam walked through the door, shirtless, covered in sweat, (he scrunched his nose up at the awful smell) and with a small towel wrapped against his shoulders. Liam frowned as he looked at the disgruntled and sleepy looks of Zayn and Louis and the almost opposite cheery looks of Niall and Harry.

Liam came and sat on the edge of Louis and his bed, watching as Louis lost interest and started pecking Zayn all over his annoyed face. "You do know that we have to be in the studio in ten minutes, right?" He started to wipe himself down and pulled Louis off of Zayn, kissing the eldest's soft jawline.

"Why?" Zayn moaned, going underneath the covers. He had forgotten that today was the first practise session in London. "Can we not?" He wanted, no needed, more sleep.

"It's only going to be for four hours," Niall pointed out, picking up Zayn's untouched glass of water. He held the glass up to his lips and instead of Zayn just taking the glass from Niall, he began to sip eagerly. Niall, after a moment's shock, sat down and supported Zayn's head as he drank nearly the entire glass. "Honestly, you're too hot,"

Harry perked up, having come back from changing into his plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. "Woah, Niall. Don't you think it's a little too early for that now?" Even though he was the youngest, Harry enjoyed teasing Niall about things like that.

"It's not like that, Hazza," Zayn could almost see the pout on Niall's face. "He really is rather warm," Liam gently got Louis off him, ignoring his grumbles as he reached across and put his hands against Zayn's neck.

"Oh my God, guys he's burning up!"

Zayn got up, his protesting muscles aching. "Oh, don't go all 'Daddy Direction' on me Payno," his hands locked tightly against each other around Liam's neck as he hauled himself up. Niall supported his back as Louis picked Harry to curl up against.

"You look awful, dear," Harry's deep voice rumbled, his fingers absentmindedly twirling in Louis' hair. "We can always do it tomorrow,"

"I promise I'll be careful," Zayn said, standing up and stretching. His breath shortened as he realised all eyes were on him. He kissed Harry's head softly before wandering into the bathroom, not knowing where this day was going to lead him.

______________________

The new guy, Johnny, took Zayn by the hand, his voice cheerful but his grip anything but. He waved to the other boys and announced that he'd just be taking Zayn away to fix his makeup. Harry joked with the others that Zayn was just perfect without makeup. Zayn disagreed immensely. He was ugly and nothing to anyone. Except for maybe the boys. But he bet that they didn't think he was a good boyfriend; they probably were with him because it'd be awkward if they weren't.

"What the fuck, Malik," of course, you could never tell if the management people were going to be nice to Zayn or not. "I told you that you needed to add those high notes in there!" He let him go roughly and Zayn stared as his wrist turned red.

"My throat hurts," Zayn mumbled, coughing harshly. It was worse than this morning. His chest was killing him. "Please, just let me take a little break," he needed a nap. A nap with his boys. Even though they didn't love him, Zayn loved them so much.

"No," Johnny snarled, his nails biting into Zayn's wrist. His other hand slammed against Zayn's bottom lip, making him cry out. "If you say a fucking word, then you'll regret it," Zayn knew he was referencing the boys, so he nodded quickly. He bit his lip, wincing as he felt flushed and bruised skin. "You're useless, boy. Remember that,"

Zayn walked around the corner back to his boys. Without looking at him, Harry looped his arm around the small of his back. Louis came closer, his morning attitude apparently gone and tried to kiss Zayn, his hands wrapping sneakily against Harry's waist. Zayn ducked his head, wincing in pain as Louis' lips barely grazed his. Instead of the hot kiss Louis was expecting, Louis ended up kissing the top of his head, a small sound of confusion escaping his lips as he stared at his boyfriend. Zayn kept his head down as the conversations stopped. Damn it, he should've just let Louis kiss him. Then all this unnecessary attention wouldn't be on him.

"What's wrong, babe?" Louis asked, trying to catch Zayn's eye. Harry put a soft but forceful grip on his chin, forcing him to look up. Louis' happy and confused expression immediately disappeared. He snarled, taking Zayn into his arms. Niall's hands were on his face as they tried to calm down.

"Is it really that bad?" Louis' grip tightened on Zayn's waist almost painfully before Liam brought him to the couch, making him sit on his lap as he checked out his face. Zayn adverted his eyes as Liam brought in Zayn for a hug.

"What happened?" Niall asked, the only one who seemed to be acting pretty normal. Liam looked like a lost puppy, Louis was angrily seething against the wall and Harry . . . The youngest One Direction member looked like he was about to cry.

Zayn opened his mouth, ready to spill anything and everything that Johnny had said and done, but instead coughed. Hard.

"Breath, babe," and Louis was at his side at once, holding his hands as he talked like he would with Harry when he had an asthma attack. "It's okay, just breath in and out," Zayn's breathing slowly matched with Louis' as the eldest slowly sat down next to Liam. "What happened, Zayn?"

Zayn suddenly gained some of his self-control back; he couldn't tell them. Not now. "Can't tell you," he replied with pleading eyes, facing Louis as he buried his head in Liam's broad shoulder. Louis' eyes turned stern as Zayn heard the door close with an audible click. Damn it, Harry.

"C'mon, Malik," Harry said, calmly kneeling down in front of them. Even though Zayn couldn't see his face, which he imagined had tears running down it and those beautiful green eyes blinking with something nearly akin to love, he did feel Harry's large hands running up and now his spine.

"Johnny hit me," he mumbled, so soft that only Liam would hear. He yelped as his hands dug into his hips but they quickly loosened as Niall hit them. "He said that I was -" he stopped, not daring to get Johnny in trouble.

"What, darling?" Niall asked, sitting on Liam's other side and running a few fingers through his long hair. Liam's hands trailed upwards to his neck, where they touched the tattooed words engraved on his collarbone. Harry's hands were still running up and down his back and Zayn found it rather hard not to melt right then and there.

"I was useless," Zayn whispered fearfully. He was the residential 'bad boy' of the group, but even he was scared shitless of Johnny's tall frame (taller than Harry) and burly body. (more muscles than Liam.)

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, Zayn," Harry said roughly, hopping over the couch so that he could look Zayn dead in the eye. "You are the most beautiful, talented, extraordinary person in the world and nothing will ever change that," Niall nodded along, taking Zayn's hand in his.

"Darling, don't listen to whatever that man fucking said," Zayn raised his eyebrows as Niall swore; it wasn't like him to unless the situation was extremely serious. Louis didn't say anything, but judging by the murderous gleam in his eyes, he bet that Johnny would get a solid talking to soon.

"We'll get him fired, Zayn," Liam promised, kissing his eyebrow gently. "But for now, we'll cuddle," Harry's eyes lit up from the promise and he to the corner, the pile of pillows obviously there for the occasion. With some gentle prodding from Niall, Louis got up too, helping pull out the couch as Zayn stood up supported by Liam's chest.

Zayn snickered as Harry and Louis stood back, admiring their makeshift cuddle spot. Liam gently shoved Zayn against the onslaught of pillows and collapsed gently on top of him, rolling them over so that he was sitting up and Zayn was leaning casually against his chest. Niall was on the left, sitting against both of them and tilting his head back, enjoying it Zayn massaged his hand and Liam kissed him lightly. Louis took the right, sitting in the same position Liam was and opened his arms up for Harry to fall into. Zayn let his other hand start twirling around in Harry's hair, making him gasp in delight.

But suddenly, the boys' moment was ruined by a simple observation. "What the fuck is on your wrist," Louis snarled, grabbing his hand as Zayn hissed. "Did he hurt you?" After seeing the pain and plain truth in Zayn's eyes, Louis got up, knocking Harry's head over in the process. Zayn chilled; if Louis didn't even apologise to their youngest boyfriend, then you knew something was up.

"I'll be back," he promised, seething as he slammed the door behind him. Harry and Zayn exchanged glances, unsure whether to be worried for Johnny, Louis, or both.

______________________

"He's gone," Louis said, satisfied. Zayn watched with wide eyes as he sat down, wisely choosing not to say a word. Liam reached over and kissed him gently as Harry made himself comfortable on Louis' lap. Louis grabbed Zayn's wrist carefully, wrapping it in gauze. Zayn resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you, love," he said instead, stealing him momentarily from Liam and kissing him passionately. He immediately pulled away as he started to cough again, hiding his face in his arms.

"Why don't we go home and watch old movies?" Niall asked, looking down at the boys. Harry looked ready to complain, obviously not wanting to get comfortable for the third time. "Then, we can really take care of Zayn,"

Zayn wasn't sure in what way Niall was talking about, but he did know that he couldn't wait to find out

[ai-the-broccoli]

I finally remembered today that I never actually posted this on tumblr. the first piece of DN fanart I ever did lol. it's very messy

[lotrmusical]

My high school did a yearly poetry recitation contest (Poetry Out Loud), so Oh Boy do I know some poems. My favorites are Ozymandias and "the world is about to end and my grandparents are in love," by Kara Jackson. Also in 8th grade we had a Poe unit and had a class contest to make the best music video of the Raven, so I still know a good chunk of that.

i hadn't heard of the kara jackson one! just read through it and enjoyed it, particularly these lines > 'grandma returns to her love like a hymn, marks it with a color. // when the world ends will it suck the earth of all its love? /will i go taking somebody’s hand, / my skin becoming their skin?'

[hurlingdown]

                   DEAL WITH THE DEVIL !? ☆

synopsis. in a fit of jealousy, suguru makes a deal with the devil. in exchange for being the only one you would ever fuck, he would have to become a sleeve tailor made for your cock. in other words, your very personal whore. wc. 4.2k

tags. top! reader, sub! geto. reader is a dilf. brat! suguru, brat tamer! reader. hardcore dom/sub. rough anal sex, orgasm denial, switching positions (riding, missionary, doggy), sir kink, mixture of degradation & praise kink, dacryphilia, age difference, objectifying, heavy use of whore, pillow princess learns how to ride dick, cum-eating, spit kink, jealousy, subspace, blowjob, yandere! geto undertones, possessiveness.

a/n. suguru gets railed within an inch of his life. good things happen.

“I bet you had plenty fun out there,” Suguru slurred, “dancing with that pretty ‘gal. Probably forgot all about me, too—the two of you were lost in your own little world.” 

Suguru slouched over you to rest his head in the crook of your neck, thighs straining where they bracketed your hips. You could feel his every heated breath against the protrusion of your jugular vein, the sweat of his palms seeping into your skin, burning a path down to hell wherever they went. The awkward shift of his muscles as he raised himself with difficulty, only to plummet down harshly. 

There was no rhythm in the ride. No patience. No tenderness in the way he touched you, branded you with him. Suguru was pissed at you, and you knew it. 

“Suguru,” you moaned, sweaty hands settling on his hips, trying to help him ride, but he swatted your hands away every time you so touched him. At this rate, both of you were going to wake up with bruises tomorrow—and not the kind that felt good. “Fuck, baby, you’re hurting yourself. Let me.” 

He only shook his head, shivering. “Why should I,” he scoffed, “when you don’t even want me. You only want—whatever this is. You only want to fuck a hole. So here I am. A hole for you.” You could tell he was biting his lip, another shudder wracking through his body, and the sight tore into you like a contusion, making you throb. “You can close your eyes and imagine it’s her you’ve got your cock in. She’s prettier, anyway, older than me, too—maybe you’d enjoy it better.” 

“You know that’s not true,” you reasoned, swallowing down a groan as he clenched around you with a ferocity, like he wanted it to hurt. “I only danced with her because you- you were ignoring me in the first place. Please, baby. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t—don’t you fucking baby me.” Suguru lifted his head, a glare so full of hurt that it dug into you like a jagged blade. “We’re not even a thing. Y-you don’t want to make us a thing.” He swallows harshly, before muttering, “Legal enough for a few good fucks, but too young for anything real.” 

The underlying accusation made you bristle. You had never protested anything beyond this point—but this was just unfair to you. You didn’t want to make the two of you a thing? Was he fucking serious? And—too young for anything real? How many times have you reassured him that it didn’t matter to you? 

“I believe the reason why you were ignoring me in the first place,” you kept your voice quiet and steady, “was because I brought us up and like a brat, you didn’t want to talk about it. You never want to talk, Suguru. It’s never the right time to talk for you. And now you think, after I go off dancing with someone else to take my mind off the headache you’ve given me, you can act all jealous like I fucked them in front of you.” 

You knew you were going to regret your next words, but at that moment, the immature desire to teach him a lesson overshadowed any sense of rationality. The anger, the disbelief, everything made it harder to think. And you were only human. 

Suguru glowered at you almost childishly, daring you to finish. 

“And maybe I really should, next time,” you continued. “Since you don’t think I’m making any effort. Maybe someone else will appreciate it.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he whispered. 

You frowned. “Suguru—” 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” 

“Suguru,” you snapped. “Don’t raise your voice at me.” 

He froze up at your sudden switch in tone, something darker, more guttural. Something you only used when you were talking to an unruly brat in the bedroom. Suguru slowly raised his head in confusion. “What?” 

“I know you’re pissed,” you muttered. “But don’t forget whose cock you’re sitting on, right now. If you want to bring this up while we’re having sex, go ahead, but stick to the rules.” 

 “Are you fucking serious—” 

You snapped your hips up, and he moaned, a pretty, tremulous sound. Suguru turned his head to glare at you weakly, half-panting already. It was funny how you could almost reduce him to a dog in heat with merely an inch of control. 

“Yes,” you affirmed. “Now, you can either get off, throw your little tantrum, and walk out of this relationship forever; or you can be a good boy and deal with this reasonably. Which one is it?” 

He parted his lips, as though he wanted to argue, but you only levelled him with an unimpressed look. He huffed, stubbornly glancing away. 

“Well? Suguru?” 

“... Keep going,” he scowled, cheeks flushing. You blinked at him in amusement, not even bothering to bite down the snark that filled your expression at his wishful words. He frowned. “What? Move already.” 

“Oh, no. I’m not gonna do the work for you,” you drawled, hands crawling up his thighs to give them a taunting little squeeze. “See, you didn’t want to let me help you, earlier—I guess you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.” You paused, smiling at him. “Ain’t that right?” 

“Fuck you,” he spat. 

“You sure you want to keep that attitude tonight, Suguru?” 

A shiver climbs up his spine, and he shakes his head after a reluctant moment. He knew the consequences of misbehaviour. How you could take him over your lap and make him count every strike, keep him deprived of cock until he was crying and slobbering, begging for something, anything, to replace the ache of emptiness inside him. 

… And he also knew what those hands could do if he behaved himself properly. 

“I’ll be your good boy,” Suguru mumbled. “Fuck me? Please?” 

His hands curled into fists on your shoulders, and he glanced at you, almost expectant. Your hands continued to travel upwards, rubbing slow circles onto the jut of his hipbones, making him sigh in bliss. How easy it was for him to accept your affection as a sign of forgiveness. Too easy, even. 

“Let’s see how good you do by yourself, first.” 

His gaze snapped to yours in defiance, the look of a spoiled brat—and you wanted to break it. You wanted to see him sob and whimper and moan as pounded into his twitching hole, rough, violent, the way that made his eyes roll back in ecstasy and mouth part in hoarse, pleasured screams. 

“But I’ve said please already,” Suguru retorted. “You can’t expect me to—” 

“Last I remember, I gave you two choices, Suguru. You took the second one. This is the second one.” 

“Fucking asshole,” he snarled. “Fine.” 

“Language,” you chastised, but Suguru paid no mind, elbows slung over your shoulders to cage you in a half-hug, shifting on his knees to get better leverage. He rolled his hips—the way you had taught him to before, forward, go down, backward, go up. Slow circular motions that smushed your cock, in just the right angle, against the throbbing gland nesting inside him, soft moans leaving his lips. It was nothing like the careless violence before. 

This was so much better. 

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” Your annoying voice rang, almost a lullaby in the way it made his eyes fall lidded, a whine building at the back of his throat. His body was so attuned to receiving pleasure—it made a whole difference when the reigns were in his hands, now. Fuck. If only you could take him already.

It was good, just bearably so, for a few minutes. Suguru struggled to gain rhythm, rocking down with a little more meaning, just to feel you slide in a little deeper each time, reaching all the dirty places inside his body no one else ever could. He tried to focus on movement and control, instead of getting lost in the way your girth would massage his taut walls, as though telling him to ease up already. 

He scowled. None of this would be a problem if you weren’t so damn difficult. And stingy. 

“Shit,” he cursed, pressing his forehead against the solid grill of your shoulder. “I’m n-not gonna, hnnn, make it if you don’t… don’t d-do something.” 

Suguru could feel the tension in his hamstrings with every slow bounce, the heat curling in his distended abdomen, a tell-tale sign that he was close to teetering over the edge. He could feel your thighs flexing beneath his, and clearly it felt good for you, too, so why, why won’t you just stake your claim on his insides already and turn him into a helpless, sobbing mess, like you always do? 

“Go ahead. I never said you couldn’t come.” 

Fuck that. Of course he wanted to fucking cum—just not like this. Not when you were merely holding him like he were nothing more than another toy, built for your pleasure. Suguru could be good. He could play as your pretty little whore. Hell, he would let you use him wherever and whenever you wanted to. But there was one condition to all of this generosity. 

You were his. 

And if you were going to treat him nothing more like a fleshlight you had rented from a sex shop, something to be borrowed and returned and tossed aside, then he wasn’t going to take it quietly. 

This wasn’t fair to him, not at all. You were being unfair. 

“Look at me,” he grit out. “Look at what you’re doing to me.” 

Suguru grabbed your hand, rubbing your palm against his sticky crotch until your fingers loosely wrapped around his length, a desperate moan spilling out from him as he rutted into your grasp. It was good, but not enough. Hardly. He wanted your hands on every part of him that they could reach. He wanted more. 

To his surprise, you didn’t snap at him for breaking the rules; that, or use your age, size or his willingness to your advantage. Your grip only tightened on his twitching cock, choking a whine out of him. He lifted his head to glance at you with heady eyes, shivering at the interest in your gaze. 

It only spurred him on. 

“This,” he slurred, resting a hand on his slightly swollen stomach, “is yours.” He lifted his hips and moved his hand lower, lower, prodding at the slick-coated length that emerged underneath him with the pad of his forefinger. “Now this… this is mine. You understand?” 

Your breath hitched, arousal building rapidly at his sultry words. This was new, and not bad at all. If this was the game he wanted to play… you supposed you could play along, for now. Just to let him have his fill of fun. 

“They can look at it, touch it, even take pictures of it… but I own the only two holes that you can be inside of. Ever.” Suguru knew he was being selfish, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t bear to ride something that didn’t belong to him—something that had been tainted by the filth of your other toys. He continued, “I can play by your rules. Be your good whore. Shut up when you tell me to. But play by mine, too.” 

“Greedy,” you snarked. “But fine.” 

He looked pleased at your easy acceptance. 

“Good. Now look at m-me, properly, when I cum on your cock.” 

You kept your word, letting him take the lead. It was obvious he was still getting used to steering with the reigns so unceremoniously thrust into his hands, but fuck, was it hot. You stroked him, your touch rough but still reverent, thumb digging into his beading slit at times, making him cry out as he rode you with renewed vigour. 

“Both hands on me,” he ordered, before hastily adding, “please.” 

He didn’t tell you where, so you put your fingers in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you panted, almost losing yourself in the way he fluttered around you tirelessly, soaking you up and taking you in. The rhythm of his bounce. The sensual roll of his hips. The obscene whimpers and shudders that sent vibrations into your body whenever he fucked himself a little too good. You loved it all. You wanted it all. If this was what you were getting in exchange for a little rule-breaking, then you would do it a thousand times over. 

Suguru was gasping, thighs twitching, moaning senselessly and drooling around your fingers, and you knew he was about to break from the pressure. Oh, well. He did a good run, for his first time. 

You let go of his cock, and he nearly screamed out in frustration. 

“No, fuck, no, no, no—” 

“But what?” you hummed, and Suguru wanted to wipe that innocent smile off your face with violence. “You said you’d cum on my cock, darling. I don’t see why you need my hands on you.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” he snapped. What was wrong with you? Weren’t you edging yourself, too? Wasn’t it painful for you, to be denied of release? You were being so frustrating. 

“I played by your rules, sweets.” You pressed a tender kiss to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he let out a helpless shiver. “This cock right here?” You nudged upwards to force your cockhead against his stomach walls, earning you a filthy whine. “All yours. But don’t forget. You promised to be my whore in exchange for that. Now, we don’t condone breaking promises, do we?” 

“N-no, but it doesn’t explain why you had to stop—” 

“Because I wanted to.” You let a small smile creep onto your face, relishing in the glazed look in his eye, the quiver in his bottom lip, as though he were about to cry. “Whores don’t order their owner around… unless it’s for the entertainment of their owner, of course. And right now, I’ve gotten terribly bored of it.” 

Suguru looked positively dumbfounded. But if that meant you were going to finally do something about it instead of sitting there, then he wasn’t going to argue with you. He let you maneuver him onto his back pliantly, almost coy in the way he glanced up at you through his lashes, spreading his legs for you. 

How could anyone expect him to want to protect his dignity when you looked at him like that? He wasn’t even prey, to you—something much, more lowly. An object, your possession. A confection to be devoured. You had let him at a glimpse of the power you held over him, and fuck, did it feel great to have you bending to his every whim, stroking his cock for his pleasure for once, but this… this was nothing but not a deal with the devil. True sovereignty was never in his hands. It was all an illusion. 

But if his only purpose would be reduced to a sleeve for your cock to fit into, merely for your pleasure and entertainment, then Suguru would get you so addicted to him, you’d prefer him over any other drug. 

“Please,” he begged, glossy eyes peering at you, “sir.” 

You smiled. “What do you want, Suguru?” 

“I-I want,” he said, half short of a whine, “w-want you- to take control. Please.” 

“Thought you were enjoying yourself, love.” 

Suguru knew what you wanted. To recognise his new identity—something inferior to you. Something that needed to depend on you to survive. 

“I- am- but, mmph, my legs h-hurt.” The glance he gave you, then, sent a shock straight into your chest. He breathed out a quiet confession, the killer blow, “I need you to put me in my place, sir. Please.” 

Your grin grew crooked, hands finally settling on the thick of his hips for the perfect leverage to thrust, and Suguru knew, then, that he had fucking won. 

The first smack of your hips against his ass had him keening. It stung, especially how he was bruised all over from riding you too hard, earlier—but the sharp zing of pleasure coursing through him made up for it a hundred times over. He wrapped his arms around your neck needily, fingers curling into your hair to keep you close, as close as you could be with your cock stuffed inside him. 

“Sir!” he sobbed, legs going around your hips as he trembled in ecstasy, moaning, gasping for breath, because finally, fucking finally, you were here in his arms, giving hell to his insides just the way he liked it. “Yes, yes, mmh, yes, sir—” 

All he could do was breathe. 

“So loud,” you cooed. “Poor thing.” 

“C-can't help- mnh, it,” Suguru whimpered, his body jerking weakly with every thrust. He squeezed his eyes shut for the briefest of moments, sobbing with pleasure as you took him again and again, the weight and heat of your body pinning him down completely, consummately, caging his lithe one, and he loved it. “W-wanted this- for soo long. You- always f-fuck me so- good, sir.”  

“Yeah? Why were you so stubborn, then?” you leered down at him, “Being all tough, snapping at me—acting like you had it. You really had your fun, didn’t you.” 

“‘m so- sorry,” he moaned, eyes rolling back. “W-won’t do i-it again.” 

Your smile grew wider at that. “What a good whore,” you sighed in appreciation, tilting his head by the chin to examine his tear-streaked face. “Pretty, too. Not all whores look pretty when they cry. You’re one of a kind, Suguru.” 

“Sir- you’re- ah, haa, t-thank you, sir,” he panted, whimpering as you pinched one of his nipples, “‘s all ‘cause- of y-you, sir. you make- make me feel- s-so good.” 

“Good to know.” You smoothed a hand over the red and purple blossoming on his pecs from the assault you had subjected them to, your sweat dripping onto his body with every jostle and thrust. “Now shut up for a bit and take it, yeah?” 

Suguru nodded frantically, eyes half-lidded as he gazed up at you. He was getting close again, the excitement in his belly churning tenfold in this new position that had him feeling every sensation of you pulsing inside him, now that he didn’t need to divert his attention elsewhere. Fuck. He couldn’t even remember why he was mad at you in the first place. He cried out as you thrusted meanly, cock grating against his prostate, his legs tightening around your waist in reflex. 

And then you pulled out with a devilish smirk. 

Suguru sobbed out, voice breaking in parts, the sound loud and desperate. “Please, s-sir. I- I was going- I was about to- ” 

“I know,” you crooned. “Told you to shut up, didn’t I?” 

He nodded pliantly, but he couldn’t hold in a whimper, soft and needy. You couldn’t help but admire the sight beneath you, despite the pain-pleasure inside you of yet another ruined orgasm—his eyes were shiny with tears, skin flushed prettily and bruised around the chest and waist, back arched as he desperately tried to get you to move. 

“Turn around for me, sweet thing.” You pressed a kiss to his wet cheek, trying to soothe him. “I know you can do that. You were so good for me just now, baby… I’m so proud of you. I’m sure a teensy little more is nothing to you, mm?” 

Suguru nodded again, rolling onto his stomach sluggishly. He was getting tired, stars drifting past with every slow, dreamy blink, body drained by the way you fucked it like it was something unbreakable. 

He pressed his face into your pillow, inhaling sharply at the scent of your musk filling his every breath, whining as you gripped his hips and tugged him backwards, the head of your cock rubbing against his puffy rim. There was nothing, absolutely nothing else worth his attention on at the moment, the world fading to a trifling blur under your touch. 

The only sounds he could hear were your heavy pants against his shoulder blades, the chanting of fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me in the distant back of his mind, making his insides melt with the desire to be taken. There was no more Suguru. There was only a hole in his place. 

He could feel his eyes drooping, soft breaths luring him to sleep, but out of the cloud of smoke and haze, you were there, a steady presence behind him, the warmth of your calloused palms branding his hips and thighs guiding him back to reality. 

“Let’s remind ourselves,” you husked, your voice wrapping around him like a warm blanket of safety amid the static. “Who are you to me, Suguru?” 

He breathed out a moan, then answered without thinking. “Yours- only yours.” 

“Specifics, baby. Let’s try again.” 

He tried to shift back onto you—even an inch would do, with how desperate he was, but your hand on his hip held him in place. You huffed out a laugh as he turned his head to frown cutely at you. “Your- your property,” he tried again. “Your plaything.” 

“Better,” you praised, “but they’re not what I’m looking for. What else?” 

Suguru knew what you wanted to hear, but he just couldn’t recall at that moment—it was too much, the edging, the scent of you everywhere, the exhaustion, the hot sweaty press of your chest against him, your big hands on his body, your cock rubbing between his thighs. All of it was making his head blank. 

He whimpered helplessly, wanting to turn to you for help, but you kept him in that same humiliating position, as though it were a common whore you were breeding and not him—

“Whore,” he gasped. “I’m your whore.” 

You grinned, then, sharp and pleased, and Suguru could almost cry at the relief he felt. “And what do good whores do, mm?” 

He sobbed, “Good whores take what they’re given… and say thank you.” 

“Good,” you repeated, breathless. “Very good, Suguru.” 

You positioned yourself properly this time, tapping the head of your cock wetly against his entrance just to hear him whine, before entering him with a heavy, careless thrust—to the very brim. 

Suguru buried his face into the pillow, practically screaming. He fisted the bedsheets, head swimming with the sudden burst pleasure overwhelming his senses, the pleasure of being taken, used, like property you had paid for; the pleasure of you picking him, of all people, to be the one you wanted to play with. All the toys in the aisle and you had chosen him. 

He’d gladly be your personal whore. 

“Now,” you prompted with a drawl, “what do we say, mm?” 

“T-thank you, sir,” Suguru whined, “Thank you so- soo much.” 

“Well done,” you breathed, carding a hand through his long, silky hair—before pulling it back into a makeshift pony tail and yanking him up by it, roughly. You ignored his startled whine, taking a second to admire the shape of your cock jutting out from his now exposed abdomen—before towing him backwards, slowly, until his back settled against your chest. 

You could feel his frame quivering against yours. Where was his confidence? The attitude, the jealousy? Guess you had fucked him so good he had forgotten everything else but his only purpose in life—to offer up his holes for your pleasure. 

“Open up, whore,” you whispered. 

Suguru didn’t need to be told twice. He fluttered his lashes, parting his lips for you, breath hitching as you collected a ball of spit, letting it drizzle slowly, obscenely, from your mouth to the waiting hole beneath you. You snapped his jaws shut, making sure you heard the audible swallow before you let go. 

“Thank you,” he whimpered. You smiled. You had such a good-mannered whore. 

He snivelled when he felt a hand enclose his cock—the poor thing so hard it was almost purple, lovingly stroking him. Tears slid down his cheeks freely as soft moans and pants spilled unbidden. He sobbed out brokenly, body jerking in your arms as his cock gave a weak, helpless spurt, the orgasm washing over him in cathartic waves. 

“T-thank you,” he panted, glancing up at you with pretty, moist eyes. 

Suguru only let out a feeble whine as you slowly slid out of him, clenching and gaping from the emptiness, placing him back on all fours. He clutched the sheets with trembling hands as something wet tapped on his cheek, and he opened his mouth without much thought. 

“My pretty whore,” you praised, and put your cock in his mouth. The warm gush of cum down his throat had him choking out a beautiful sound of gratitude. 

Suguru had been stupid to think he could ever get the upperhand in a deal with the devil. But that was all he was now, wasn’t he? A stupid, pretty whore, only ever good for taking cock. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, with a mouthful of cum and more trickling down the side of his chin. 

Maybe he was always meant to be like this. 

Maybe what he needed was your guidance, all along.

masterlist!

[elssero]

seven minutes in… heaven?

k.bakugo

♰ nsfw/suggestive, third year bakugo x f!reader, dry humping..? both characters are drunk but fully consent!

evanescence blasts through your phone as you do the final finishing details of your makeup, your cutting the crease of your liner while jirou sat next to you clips some of her hair back with the little music note hair piece you had picked up for her last week. your excited for tonight, it’s been awhile since the whole class of 3A had gotten together like this.

it’s a celebratory party for the end of a month long project you had all been putting all of your time and effort into, so much so to the point that nobody had really spent any time together, so to say that everyone was bubbling with anticipation was an understatement.

well everyone except bakugo of course, according to jirou he had been grumbling all week about this stupid party and how he’s being forced to go by stupid kirishima because of some stupid bet he lost last month. apparently he’d much rather stay in his room all night and pop a couple sleeping pills to ensure he wasn’t involved in the the night at all.

he just hates parties, he doesn’t understand why something so small as finishing a project deserves an entire class get together. he would much rather have a small, controlled hang out with the close group of friends he’d found himself growing fond of over the past few years.

you, of course ignore his complaints because the only word to describe how your feeling right now is ecstatic, it’s no surprise to anyone that you loved a good party and seeing that you had worked extra hard on this particular project you felt as though you owed it to yourself to let a little loose.

after deciding you are completely happy with the way you look and having taken a shot of some pre-drink with jirou, you link the girls arm and leave your dorm, you make your way to the common room arm and arm with the increasingly nervous girl beside you, you whisper a few encouraging words as you continue to lead her to, you can see that people have already started gathering, drinks in hand.

you decide for jirous sake to make a b-line to mina, kaminari and sero who are slumped together on one of the couches around the room.

mina wastes no time pulling you both into a hug “you both look amazing! ah- i can’t im so excited we’re all here tonight!” you can tell she’s already tipsy by the way she slightly stutters and her voice raises at the end of her sentences.

you hug her back just as excitedly, you love mina, she shares your excitement for the little things and you can’t help but feel drawn to her because of that, it’s clear to everyone around you that you two were just made to be friends.

kami gets up next, he throws a lazy arm around jirous shoulder and compliments you both on your outfits of choice, you can’t help but chuckle a little at his behaviour, he’s always been a bit of flirt, especially with jirou, you can’t help but smile at the sight when jirou leans into his hold slightly.

sero, now stood directly in front of you pulls you into tight hug, seros a close friend, if anything probably your closest after mina and jirou and definitely the person your physically closest with. he is your friend and definitely only that, despite the looks that your weirdly physically close relationship gets from your classmates, but the line at least in your head is definitely drawn and you don’t dare cross it.

you mingle for abit, finishing off your first drink and eagerly getting your second, your sat in a circle now with most of your class, some sat on the floor and some sat on furniture, you’ve somehow ended up in a full class discussion despite the buzz that fills the room. your listening to the class debate their most embarrassing moments when a loud but cheery voice drags another loud but not so cheery voice into the room.

“hey everyone! sorry we’re late it seems that bakugo had forgotten about tonight” kirishima grins as bakugo starts mumbling incoherent complaints. “but alas, no worries as i made sure to remind him!” kirishima continues to ignore bakugos clearly sour mood as he pulls the blond to sit across from you and sero, who’s now drunken head is now resting on your shoulder, they would definitely be sat next to you guys but kirishima doesn’t wish to disturb the circle so he takes the only free place.

people exclaim welcomes as you smile at the red head, he sends a smile back and a quick look at sero who seems to be making himself pretty comfortable pressed up against you. bakugo doesn’t even lift his head while he sits down, it’s clear he wishes for this party to be over just as quickly as it can start.

“let’s play a game!” it comes from uraraka in the corner as she leans into the center of the circle to get everyone’s attention. “oh yeah? what do you suppose we play?” midoriya this time, slurring, who’s clearly a little drunker than he should be seeing as your only an hour or so into the get together. denki cheers out in the corner and catches everyone’s attention as he quickly finishes his beer and places it in the middle of the circle. “we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” a wide smirk on his face as he watches everyone agree, you’d maybe think he’d be suggesting this is a way for him to get some but you disagree, you know kami lives for drama and a game like this is surely to brew some up.

people settle into positions and sero finally raises his head from the crook of your neck, you know he’s a merchant of drama and he seems to agree this some in definitely incoming as he awaits the first spin.

tsu goes first as peer pressured by her friends and lands on uraraka, you see a small blush appear on the brunettes features and you wish them good luck as mina shuts the closet door behind them, your all warily keeping it down a little, making little jabs at one another and chuckle quietly, you hear a giggle from the closest and you all burst into laughter, unable to keep quiet anymore as you let the girls finish their 7 minutes.

your unable to remember who goes next but it was surely insignificant, you can feel the alcohol now at your forgetfulness, you join conversation with your friends and await the next spin as the pair who you now see is momo and shinsou leave the closet calmly, it’s clear to everyone that nothing of interest happened which only proves a suspicion you’ve had about momo for awhile, whatever though it’s not your business.

very suddenly and very much to your surprise mina edges you forward to spin the bottle next, your not really sure why, it’s not like your dying to get some, infact your doing pretty well for yourself so her eagerness for you to spin next is unidentifiable to you but alas you don’t argue and you shift, almost crawling on all floors to reach the bottle and spin it harshly, watching as it continues to go round and round.

when it’s completely slowed down you follow the tip of the bottle and realise it’s pointing directly in front of you, you continue to look up and you lock eyes with a shocked pair of red ones. without thinking you stand up and hold a want out too him to help him up. he looks up at you in only complete shock as he grits out “i’m not fuckin’ doing this shit, didn’t fuckin agree to it” you don’t falter, now used to his attitude “what are you scared bakugo? the great katsuki bakugo scared of seven minutes alone with me?”

he gapes at you, jaw dropped and he falters for a second. maybe he is scared. he contemplates for a second before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up, he follows as you guide him into the closet and shut the door behind you.

he huffs at the proximity between you, he’s always been huge but the past few months you can tell he’s been bulking up even more, if that’s even possible. there’s barely enough space for the two of you, your tits are slightly pushed up against him as your back hugs the wall of the closet.

“we don’t have to do anything” you whisper out, slightly slurred due to your drink intake. “we can just chill in here if you’d rather that.” he doesn’t respond and you take a moment to observe him, his cheeks are flushed, either due to the lack of space between the two of you of the alcohol, it’s probably both.

“well it’s not like you can do anything anyway” he spits out and you give him a puzzled look “what do you mean i can’t do anything? you think m’ allergic to kissing people or something?” he chuckles slightly at that, you feel a little twinge of pride, you’ve always been able to do that, draw small chuckles out of the man in front of you. you’ve been able to lock down on what draws it out of him and being mouthy certainly seems to do the trick.

“na… y’know your with tape arms and stuff dno’ why you even came in here with me, dno’ why you even spinned that bottle” now it’s your turn to chuckle at him, did he seriously believe that you and sero were together? like an actual item? did other people believe that too? you swore up and down you’d made it very clear that was not the case. “me and sero are definitely not together” you giggle slightly as you say it, he doesn’t respond so you continue “he’s a very close friend of mine and i know we’re a little touchy but we’re definitely not seeing each other” his eyes seem to dart up to you as you finish your sentence, the words clearly settling in.

“why do you guys act like that them?” he sounds almost… defected? it’s a tone you can’t quite figure out. “m’ not sure, it just kinda happened one day and became the norm for us i guess” he lets out a slight hum and you settle into silence briefly before he speaks. “so why-” he cuts himself off, cursing quietly before continuing “so why did you come in here with me?” he gets quieter as he continues to speak, he’s nervous. that much is entirely obvious to you even in your drunken state. you look him in the eyes when you answer him this time “well what usually happens when you entire a closet with someone during this game bakugo?” his breath seems to quicken at this and you feel his chest moving faster against your own, quickly reminding you of the contact between you two as you glance down at your tits still pushed against his chest, the sight sets a blush across your cheeks, bakugos eyes seem to follow yours as an even bigger red blush appears across his face.

“i already said before that we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want too, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want too.” you explain it too him calmly, you are not inexperienced, not in the slightest but though his actions it’s telling that bakugo may be- giving you the upper hand.

“no-“ he ushers it out quickly “no- i think- i think i want too” you watch as his blush deepens even more, it’s cute you think, nothing like how he usually is, you quite like him like this.

you take this as an opportunity to lift your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you, you stop as his lips are hovering slightly above your own. “you gotta let me know if you want me to stop” he nods quickly and you take that as confirmation, you take a tight grip on his hair and force his lips down to meet your own, he immediately groans at the impact, rushing to place heavy hands on the side of your waist, wasting no time as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

your forcing your tongue down his throat and he groans again, you immediately feel him already against your thigh and you wonder how long he’s been hard like that. he kisses you like he’s starved, attempting to push himself even closer to you, it appears he’s fighting for dominance until you pull slightly on his hair and he melts into you with another noise bubbling in his throat- a whine almost exhales him and in that moment you decide your pulling a proper whine from him that night, it might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.

far too suddenly for your liking the door swings open, revealing to your entire class the compromising position you and bakugo are in, he nearly screams at the suddenly light shining in his eyes. you make eye connect with mina and her jaw drops. bakugo immediately disconnects with you and you find yourself missing his warmth. your bombarded with questions as bakugo takes your hand in his and rushes you both out the closet, ignoring the pleas from your classmates.

“party’s over for me shitty hair” bakugo shouts at kirishima, not even taking a glance in his direction as he storms you both, still hand in hand past the crowd of your classmates and towards the stairs. “you fuckers have a good time down here or whatever, we’re going up to bed.” he smirks at this, pulling you even faster through the hall.

“have a great night everyone!” you shout as you look back at your friends, they’re mouths gaping in complete shock, you send them a wink as you turn back to bakugo, speeding to catch up with him. happily following him up to his dorm. luckily for you, you’d turned around too quickly to see the defeated look on a certain black haired classmate of yours as he watches you be dragged even further away from him by a boy he knows has shared the same crush he’s had on you since your first year at ua.

AHHHH BAKUGO FIC!!! i’m considering making this a little series because i can’t get seven minutes in heaven with the mha characters out of my head. not proofread yet so if there’s mistakes then there’s mistakes!

[narnian-neverlander]

For You, Always [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: slight angst, self-worth issues (both of them need a freaking hug), internalized ableism, talk about a non-consensual relationship (nothing explicit/graphic or sexual, but reader’s ex is clearly an abusive, ableist pos)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Jayce is playing matchmaker, because both Viktor and the Reader have such bad self-worth issues, they’re not gonna get anywhere unless he whacks them over the head with his hammer

“According to Mel, he is an absolute ass, but unfortunately one of the most influential people in Piltover, so—“

“Unfortunately, he’s also kinda, sorta my ex…” you mumble into the rim of your glass, interrupting Jayce and it is comical, cartoonish almost, how his head turns to look at you so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap. Not to mention Viktor accompanying his reaction perfectly by choking on his own drink. You watch Jayce open and close his mouth several times until he finally settles on: “That guy? Seriously? Didn’t think that was your type…”

He casts an incredibly unsubtle, overly obvious glance over at Viktor as he says this and you would’ve loved to strangle him for it; thankfully the man in question is too busy coughing up fancy champagne to notice, he does however manage to get out a “Oh please tell me you lost a bet.”

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you shake your head. “Gods, I wish. Just… young and stupid and naive and always too eager to please and — and he’s coming this way. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” You all but flee the scene about to unfold, grabbing another glass off a passing waiter’s tray as you make a break for the nearest balcony. Your friends watch you disappear into the crowd with worried frowns; Jayce’s statement of “Probably a pretty bad breakup…” getting answered with an eye roll and a heavily sarcastic “You think so? I never would have guessed.”

The next hours are spent hopping from hiding spot to hiding spot, snatching drinks and snacks off trays whenever you manage while keeping an eye out for your personified worst nightmare. By some godly miracle you manage to utterly avoid the man and the next familiar face you spot when you dare venture back into the crowds is the Man of Progress himself, surrounded by nobles and merchants alike, polite smile on his face as he makes conversation. A polite, fake smile in danger of slipping that you spot from a mile away. Catching a glimpse of the band getting ready to strike up another song, you decide to be merciful and rescue him. It’s not entirely selfless though, as you figure if the asshole does end up spotting you, watching you dance with Piltover’s very own golden boy might be a good enough repellant.

“Excuse me, Mr. Talis?” Relief floods his features as he turns around to find you right behind him, having shoved your way through the circle of admirers. “I hate to interrupt, but you did promise me a dance. You’re not the kind of man to go back on his word are you?” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at the man leading the city of progress into a brighter future. And it takes all he has not to burst out laughing, because he’s seen this from you before, except it’s usually not him on the receiving end of it, but his partner. It is charming, endearing even, he will admit. No wonder Viktor can never say no to you when you look at him like that. And right now he’s beyond elated you’ve decided to play his saving grace for some reason, so he wouldn’t even dream of turning you down.

“Of course not. If you’ll excuse me.” he states, ignoring any protests from bystanders and guides you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. He leads you into a waltz and waits until you’re swallowed by dancing couples until he lets his face drop into an exhausted grimace. “Oh sweet Gods, thank you. Anymore of that and I would’ve driven the cocktail sticks into my ears.”

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up like that, though? Where’s your better half? He’s usually pretty capable of getting you both out of situations like that.” He sends you a knowing grin as he spins you. “Oh so you think he’s the better half? Ouch.” It earns him an eye roll, but you’re smiling nonetheless. “Like you don’t know I have a favorite. Now answer the question, golden boy.” There’s hesitation before he answers with, “He went home for the evening.” and you almost fumble your next steps. “Excuse me? The bastard begged me to come along for weeks and now he just ditches? The only reason I agreed to come was because he actually promised me a dance.”

Jayce hems and haws and you’re ridiculously close to intentionally stomping on his foot to get him to cough up an explanation; luckily for him he manages in time. “No, no, it’s more like… I sent him home cause if he would’ve had to be in the same room as your ex any longer, I was genuinely afraid he’d take the guy’s head off with his cane.” The laugh that bubbles up from your throat is joyful and real; Jayce has always been good at defusing your irritation with humor. It takes another few seconds and another look at his face to realize that he’s dead serious and your laughter dies on your tongue, leaving behind the taste of ashes. “You can’t be— He— What?! I left you guys for two hours max!”

“Yeah, well…” he starts as he dips you, “your ex has a way of getting under people’s skin.” No shit. But you’d honestly thought Viktor was above it. “What did the asshole do? Dismiss Hextech as an obsolete fantasy?” Shaking his head, he leads you into another turn. “No, quite the opposite, actually. He was incredibly interested, but his demands for becoming a sponsor were ludicrous, to put it mildly. Final say in the direction of Hextech, majority of the shares, unrestricted access to all stages of development and… you.” This time, you do stumble over your own feet in shock, falling straight into his chest. “Pardon?!”

The poor man looks as uncomfortable as you feel as he explains. “Apparently he saw the three of us talking earlier and one thing led to another and— fuck, I don’t know what happened between you, but that man is absolutely not over you. For some reason that is entirely beyond me, he was under the impression that because we’re friends we’d somehow be able to coerce you into being with him again. And the way he was talking about you? Gods, it made me wanna punch him in the face; it was so utterly vile I can’t even repeat it. Scratch that, I just really don’t want to.” All things considered, you’re glad for his hands steadying you, cause the room’s spinning even without the dance you’re still enagaged in and you feel like you’re gonna loose all the fancy hors-d’oeuvres from earlier on the polished marble floor any second now. “Great. Lovely. Perfect. And how exactly does Viktor fit into this now?”

He sighs. “Honestly, I can’t repeat what he said either.” This seems to ground your spiraling for a moment and you cock a brow at him. “Are you kidding? He’s usually pretty eloquent.” To say you’re surprised when he snorts in amusement would be an understatement. “I mean I literally can’t repeat it, because he was so utterly livid, he slipped into his mother tongue and while I can’t be sure, it didn’t exactly sound like he was complimenting the guy.”

Finally all the pieces click into place and when they do, you slow your steps to a stop and blink up at your friend owlishly. “He… Viktor got upset on my behalf?” The way he so openly laughs at you makes your ears burn and your fist connects with his chest in a halfhearted punch. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that!” Catching your hand as you ready yourself for another swing, this time aimed at his stupid, handsome face, he reigns in his laughter and simply smiles at you; not mean spirited or teasing, but shockingly gentle and sweet. “You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?”

The anger and embarrassment in your veins all but evaporates, replaced by something soft and warm; heat gathering at the back of your neck and the balls of your cheeks for an entirely different reason now. Your mouth drops open as you try to formulate some sort of response, only to fail miserably; incoherent stuttering and beginnings of words the only thing you manage to produce. The music finally fades out and is replaced by applause for the band as your friend chuckles and inclines his head towards the door. “You should go talk to him.” A glance over his shoulder shows you the gaggle of potential investors you’d saved him from earlier already making their way towards you again. “And you’ll survive if I leave you alone with these people?” An overly dramatic sigh is your answer. “I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for your happiness.” The ‘my hero’ he gets in return is dripping with sarcasm as he winks at you and makes a shooing motion towards the exit, then turns around to head back into the fray, giving you a clean escape.

Freezing winter air hits you as you exit the venue; bitingly cold but a welcome change from the sweltering warmth of the gala nonetheless. Starting left, you catch yourself after only a few steps to reconsider. Left would be Viktor’s apartment. Right would be the lab. You know him better than that, don’t you? So you change directions, readjusting your scarf over your nose. It’s a relatively short distance to the academy, even so your fingers are starting to go numb when you reach one of the big, heavy doors leading inside. The hallowed halls are quiet and dark, making the high ceilings and ornate walls seem even more imposing than usual as you make your way towards the lab with hurried steps. It all feels like you’re doing something illegal - or maybe it would, if all the security guards hadn’t seen you hang around the two Hextech pioneers often enough for you to know all their names by heart at this point. Arriving at the lab, first glance tells you it’s as empty as the rest of the building. Except for the tiny sliver of light peeking out from under the door. Bingo.

You gingerly, quietly press down on the handle, not wanting to involuntarily startle the man you know to be inside, just in case he’s handling something explosive. One experience like that had been enough to last you a lifetime. You’re in luck, as you instead find him hunched over one of the desks, furiously scribbling notes onto various scattered pieces of paper, muttering under his breath. The small lamp at his side casts deep shadows across his face, but you’re still able to make out the frown; thick eyebrows drawn together in irritation and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t possibly still be upset about what happened at the gala, could he? No, impossible. Preposterous. Idiotic. He’s hit a roadblock in his equations, that had to be it. But seeing as you’re not in any danger of accidentally causing him to blow you both to pieces you make your presence known to him.

“I do believe Jayce told you to go home, didn’t he?” Viktor almost drops his pen in alarm, swiveling around on his stool to find you have sidled up to him, leaning against the desk, in the process of ridding yourself of your coat and scarf, an amused grin on your lips. He puts a hand over his racing heart, as he says “And a heart attack is a fitting reprimand for my crime in your eyes, yes?” You only raise your brows in return, smile slipping from your face, disapproval obvious in your eyes as they flit towards the clock in the corner of the room for just a second; it’s the same look he always gets from you when he’s working when he clearly shouldn’t be. Running a hand through his already messy, chestnut hair, he shrugs. “I simply didn’t feel particularly tired when I left.”

“So I’ve heard.” you muse and pick up a random cogwheel from the table to fiddle with. “Apparently you had some… disagreements with a potential investor?” He clicks his tongue in annoyance and all but chucks the pen still in his hand across the desk. “Potential investor, don’t make me laugh. That appalling, pathetic excuse of a man shouldn’t be allowed in a five mile radius of anything Hextech. Or a five mile radius of you, for that matter.” Humming in both agreement and intrigue, you continue with what’s really been eating you up. “Jayce said you hit him with some choice words. Mind repeating those for me?” A sideways glance your way to confirm you’re certain and then he launches into a repeat of his rant from earlier that evening. He gets about three or four words into it before you throw the cogwheel at him; it bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor with a ping. “Oh someone thinks he’s particularly funny tonight. In a language I understand, maybe?” Try as he might to hide it, you catch the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “That’s not what you asked of me, though.” Know-it-all bastard.

“Oh how dare you?” Hopping up on the table for additional theatrics, you grip your chest in mock offense and throw your head back dramatically. “Here I am, having braved a journey of freezing winds and complete darkness, to bestow my thanks upon you and you don’t even have the courtesy to thrill me with a retelling of your courageous deeds. Disappointing, truly.” A pointed cough into his fist does little to hide the laugh at your antics. “Please, the venue is a ten minute walk from here and all the streets are lined with lanterns. You’ll need to try a little harder, miláčku.”

Huffing, you run a hand over your face, desperately trying to hide how much the nickname affects you and give you a second to think. Your salvation stares at you from the other end of the lab, the golden horn of the phonograph glinting in the light of the moon that filters through the windows. And he immediately knows he won’t like what comes out of your mouth next, with the way your eyes flash and your lips curl in an absolutely wicked smile. “Well you see, I still haven’t been paid for tonight.” Confusion is clear as day in both his face and his voice. “I do not recall discussing payment for your participation in the gala…?”

“Oh but we did!” you giggle as you hook your foot around the center of his roller stool to drag him closer, very much enjoying the look of utter shock on his face and the slight graze of his hands on the sides of your things as they land on the desk next to you to try and regain his balance. “A certain someone promised to dance with me if I showed up. Guess who ditched before he made good on that?” At least he has the courtesy to look sheepish, a little knowing ‘Ah…’ sound escaping him as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and drops his gaze to his lap. With how the night had gone, he’d genuinely forgotten all about it. And before the night had even started he’d hoped you’d forget. He really should’ve known better. A finger enters his field of vision to poke him in the chest. “You’re in luck; I am nothing if not merciful, so I’ll leave it up to you: a dance or an explanation. So what’ll it be, darling?”

He’s beyond grateful you can’t get a proper look at his face at the moment, with how pink he knows his cheeks to be, lest you realize how much the nickname actually affects him. And this shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really; the way his heart stutters at just the thought of either, he should be doing both. Besides, you deserve to know. Deserve to know that he’d told that pompous swine to go choke on his wine the moment he’d as much as uttered your name. Told him that he shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe the same air as you, much less be allowed close enough to touch you. That he could amass as much money and power as he liked, he’d never be worth even a fraction of you.

You deserve to know all of that. And yet he doesn’t tell you. Because while he did what he did for your sake, it had still been selfishly motivated. Because if he tells someone interested in you off, then at least it feels like you’re his, even for just a second. Because the irony of the situation is that while your ex might be undeserving of you, so is he. For different reasons, yes, but he feels it’s true nonetheless.

So he doesn’t tell you any of it, his personal demons are not your burden to bear after all, simply grabs his cane in silence and walks over to the phonograph. Slow notes of a gentle melody fill the air a few moments later, as he turns and offers you his hand.

And you’re absolutely shell shocked, to say the least. This is… not the choice you’d been expecting. Words are his forte; he’d always choose them over physicality if given the opportunity. Or so you’d thought. This doesn’t make sense to you; why was he so desperately trying to keep what he’d said about you a secret? Or had Jayce completely misunderstood the situation he’d recounted to you and Viktor had never said anything about you at all? Why would he bother to anyways? You and your past demons aren’t his burden to bear, after all. The uncertainty must be written all over your face, as you’re met with a concerned, “Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, yes or no, but all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Sitting bruised, bleeding, soaked to the bone and crying your little heart out in the shallows of one of the offshoots of the river, an altercation between you and some other kids having turned out to be another case of you biting off more than you could chew. And then a little pale hand holding out a dirty handkerchief had appeared in your peripheral, belonging to a small, lanky boy with a cane and big, worried golden eyes.

Are you alright?

You hadn’t known him then. But you’d taken his hand anyways. Had decided to trust him. He’d never once let you down since and you have no reason to doubt him now. So you do the same thing in this exact moment as you did all those years ago: just take his hand and trust him.

He pulls you flush against him, hands linked behind your lower back, your own coming up to rest on his shoulders. It’s nowhere near as elaborate and elegant as your waltz earlier this evening, more of a simple swaying from side to side, but it doesn’t have to be. Not for you. Not as long as it’s him.

Smiling softly, you say, “A dance with each one of the Hextech geniuses in one night. I must be the luckiest person in Piltover.” He hums in acknowledgment. “And do you have a preference?”

“Oh come now, that is an utterly unfair comparison.” And your heart aches at the way his face falls just the tiniest bit. “I’ve had my preference for years, regardless of dancing abilities; poor Jayce never even stood a chance.” It’s quiet and subtle, barely more than a deep breath in and out, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll break his heart.” In direct comparison to him, the bark of laughter that escapes you is loud and boisterous, only amplified by the muted, soft atmosphere surrounding you both. “Please, he knows. He’s been yanking my chain about that for a bit.” Not that you particularly mind; it’s a chain you wear proudly and for all to see after all. You’d shout your love for this man from the highest towers of Piltover if only he asked. “Besides…” you start while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m here dancing with you because I want to be. I really only danced with Jayce because I thought if… if you-know-who saw it, it might keep him off my back a little longer.”

A slight turn of his head has him nuzzling your hair; the hushed whisper of your name almost sounds pained as his arms tighten around you protectively. He isn’t sure what exactly happened between you and your ex, but he’d be willing to bet that the nature of your relationship hadn’t been… consensual. It’s plain to see that the man scares you and it makes him sick. Angry. Desperate. But most of all, he’s disappointed - in himself. The conversation him and Jayce had had with him had been one thing; the bastard knew how to behave at least somewhat diplomatically while there were people of importance present. Of course, Jayce, and by extension, you, couldn’t know that he’d had the misfortune of running into him yet again while he was leaving. He’d had to listen to that waste of oxygen in expensive clothing talk about you like you were nothing more than a filthy piece of his property yet again and this time around he hadn’t managed to remain even remotely civil. Had thrown every curse and threat under the sun in two different languages his way. Had hissed at him that he’d turn him inside out if he ever even looked at you again - only for the pig to laugh in his face, pat his cheek condescendingly and give a disgusted, embarrassed look at his cane, telling him that he was ’welcome to try’ before vanishing back into the crowd. Viktor had wanted to scream at the top his lungs; it had been a while since he’d felt so utterly livid, yet so humiliated and useless at the same time.

And here you are, wanting to thank him for some courageous, chivalrous deed he didn’t actually commit. Looking at him with the biggest eyes, like he’d hung the stars in the sky just for you, when in reality, he couldn’t even properly defend you against someone who’d clearly hurt you. He has to tell you. He’s not the hero you think him to be.

“About what I said to him—“ is as far as he gets, as you promptly cut him off with, “Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.” Not even ten minutes ago, you were essentially blackmailing him into spilling this secret and now you don’t care anymore? “I would argue that it does.” He feels more than sees you shake your head, your hair tickling his cheek. “You stood up for me, right? That’s all I have to know. It’s enough.”

Anger and disgust come back full force, choking him like bile rising in the back of his throat, not aimed at you, never at you, but at himself.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh and bitter and cold.

“It’s plenty.”

Soft and sweet and warm, the exact opposite of his own words in every way; the reassurance and comfort he’s supposed to be offering you dripping from every word. When did your roles get reversed? You’re the one in distress and you’re comforting him? He’s not just useless, he’s absolutely pathetic. And even though you might be none the wiser to his self destructive thoughts, some part of you seems to know; it always seems to know as your fingers dance across his shoulders to busy themselves with the hair at the nape of his neck, calming his nerves.

“I haven’t had— I mean, no one’s ever— Most people—“ A sigh, a clear sign of frustration as you try to get your thoughts in order, warm breath fanning over his neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “I can count the people who ever stood up for me over the course of my life on one hand; I mean, my birth parents never even bothered to. So knowing there’s someone who has my back, even when I’m not present? It’s…” Pulling back to look at him, his breath catches at the way the silvery light from outside empathizes the affection in your eyes and the tenderness of your smile. “It’s a nice feeling. Thank you.”

His hand is moving before his brain has time to play catch up, cupping your cheek and all but melting when you nuzzle into his warmth, eyes fluttering closed.

“For you? Always.”

He’s not sure he’s ever seen you look quite so peaceful and at ease and it feels like his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest; his gaze is drawn to your lips before he can fully think about what that could entail.

He watches your lips part slightly and when he manages to wrench his golden eyes back up, he finds yours already on him, wide in astonishment and he knows he’s been caught red handed.

And you consider yourself most fortunate, cause if he’d looked up even a second earlier, he would’ve caught you staring. The air is heavy and promising and whoever makes the next move decides wether or not things between you both are gonna change irrevocably.

Tonight, you’re the one that makes that decision. The decision that you’re not ready for things to change. You like what you have and are too scared of losing it. Instead, you settle for something different, yet just as poignant and important; a clear and explicit expression of love for people from Zaun. Softly tugging on his neck, he goes oh so willingly, happily even. You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.”

He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Neither one of you notices the music coming to an end, replaced by the scratchy static of needle against vinyl, too wrapped up in the moment, in each other. A bell tolls outside, signaling the coming of midnight and just like in a fairytale, the spell you seem to be under comes to an abrupt end. With a deep breath, you step back, putting some much needed distance between you, if you want your brain to function properly again, that is, and clear your throat awkwardly. “I uh… I should be getting home. Some people still have a regular day and night schedule, unlike you.”

With a small smile, you go to gather your coat as he switches off the phonograph. When he turns back to you, his heart falls in disappointment; you’re already dressed and halfway to the door. He would’ve liked to walk you home, at least, but you honestly look like you’re fleeing from something; he apparently has imposed on you enough for tonight. Pausing with your hand on the handle, you call his name again, delicately, quietly. When your gaze finds him, you’re pleased to find his full attention already on you.

“Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?”

And with the way his golden eyes start to shine like the stars and his beautiful lips quirk up into that crooked half smile you adore, you can almost believe Jayce’s words - almost.

You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?

“For you? Always.”

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.

Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.

Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.

This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.

I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...

But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.

Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)

Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.

Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.

They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.

"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.

And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.

And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.

But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..

"There is nothing I'd like more."

And he means it.

I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."

This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.

Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.

Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.

This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.

He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.

Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.

And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.

I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.

I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.

[mynameisjag]

Because I just remembered, as author, I have power to do whatever the hell I want in fanfiction. The only powers in the universe that can stop me is my terrible ADD and terrible sleeping habits.

It’s a sequel to ‘Mistaken for Wolverine's and Wade's possible kid.'

There was a possible feral child running around with claws and a smart mouth.

“We'll take him home, keep him in the bathroom for a little while so Laura can get used to his scent and then slowly introduce them to each other.”

“…they aren’t cats…”

“Right, weasel family, close enough.”

Logan rolled his eyes with grunt, the smell of crushed ice and iron filling his nose, they had been following the kids scent for awhile now, enough for a quick change out of uniform to throw on street clothes.

Wade had thrown on an over large sweater with the hoodie pulled up with a face mask and glasses, Logan himself was dressed in one of his flannels.

“We look like the Unibomber and the Bounty Paper mascot have decided to go on a date at the local market.”

They were close, the tracks had lead them to a more public place, a small outdoor fruit market, but there was no sign of white hair anywhere. Though that didn’t matter if the kid could go invisible.

They were close though…

“So what’s the bet that baby wolvie can change his appearance to fit in?”

“Hmm?”

Wade nudged their shoulders together as he gave a subtle nod over to the next stall, black hair, blue eyes, different clothes…but the smell remained the same…

“Oh, boy, whoever made this designer baby knew what they were doing, still has those sharp claws and cute little fangs you both share. Congratulations to us? What we naming him?”

“Wade.”

“Right, assuming gender, my apologies.”

The man actually snorted in brief amusement, getting what he knew was a wide grin even if it was covered up, he rolled his eyes as the usually red covered merc grabbed his bicep, “He could be a Void escapee, I don’t smell any other human smells on him, let’s stay up wind right now.”

Wade gave the arm he was attached to a small squeeze, “Led the way Mr. Paper Picker Upper.”

They moved slowly through the crowd, eyes on the kid but still keeping a distance incase he picked up the super senses trait.

Lightly clawed hands were picking up apples, sniffing them then placing them down, head would tilt and the ears would twitch, he was still listening for any kind of disturbance. Eyes would focus on a fruit, then dart to the side, still wary and still watching out.

“The face shape and features are the same…need better proof though.”

“Lucky you and the need for the plot to move forward, looks like someone has itchy knuckles and a case of peekaboo.”

Sure enough, one hand was rubbing at the knuckles were a slight sheen glinted in the sunlight before disappearing.

The kid was frowning down at his own hands, distracted enough to not notice Wade casually stroll up behind him, “Baby boy, is that you! You’ve been gone for two years! We thought you were dead!”

Logan sighed tiredly, accepting his fate as he watched his partner throw his arms around the child in a crushing hug, wailing dramatically how they would be so much better parents now, they would support his interest in professional knitting and how dare he leave with a note written in cursive.

Phones were out, people were clapping over the tearful reunion, the poor kid looked shocked to be manhandled over to him by Wade.

“It’s your Daddy, I know he is currently cosplaying a lumberjack, but he’s still the asshole we love.”

Logan could only shake his head, letting out a huff before staring down the kid, “Ready to have that chat?”

Bright blue eyes glared up at him on a level of unimpressed that only teens could reach, “I don’t know, are you ready to go save Goldilocks, I think you better go off and get lost in the woods looking for her.”

“Oh, he is just the Sassiness! He gets it from me, I swear! Just an absolute deee-light!"

[loved-reid]

You’re Cute…Yet Irritating [s.r]

Post prison!Spencer Reid x sunshine!fem!reader

Summary: She’s always humming a tune, dancing, or tapping her fingers. And Spencer can’t stand it.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, irritated Spencer, crying, self doubt, rude comments, self hatred, etc.

Note: I always fidget and I thought this would be cute! Let me know what y’all think!!

Sorry for any errors! I didn’t re-read it! :)

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

2,745 times

And yes, he was unfortunately counting.

He bet she didn’t even know she was doing it, the repetitive rhythm of her finger nails on the desk. Files piled it, almost all the time, and Spencer always had to walk by with his fist in his mouth to prevent himself from organizing it the way he liked.

He was going to be honest, he kind of missed having that feeling, the urge to clean or organize. It told him, in a way, that his old self was still with him, and that little thing gave him hope that he so tightly held onto.

But his old self was able to focus. His old self was able to dig himself into file folders and never be able to leave, yet the tapping.

Spencer couldn’t take it.

His eye twitched every time she breathed particularly loud, his lips pursed when her foot started tapping on the floor, and, worst of all, his head shuttered when her dang finger nails tapped on the desk’s top.

He hated the noise.

And it surprised him that he did, it was such a little thing that was apparently going unnoticed by everyone else. But he just couldn’t focus on his work with the practical racket that was doing on next to him.

He wasn’t gonna lie, he almost got up just then to go ask Hotch for a desk rearrangement. But he knew that his boss would suspect something and either tease him about it or shake his head about how ridiculous it was.

Spencer agreed as well. He couldn’t change seats just because the woman next to him was tapping her fingers.

Gosh, even thinking it sounded absurd.

But he couldn’t help but imagine silence.

Silence while his brain could process things.

Spencer could’ve lost it when she started humming a soft tune. She seemed to have a new one in her head every day, each time she sat down, tea in hand, she hummed a different song than yesterday.

He couldn’t quite pin point which one it was, but he didn’t dare to continue thinking to figure it out.

His head turned toward her, hoping she’d notice his glare but she didn’t, she’s still stuck on the file she was looking at.

“Quit that, will ya?”

Her head snapped up at the sudden outburst, surprise reflecting in her eyes yet he spotted confusion.

How was she confused to the constant annoying tapping she was doing? And the humming? Spencer was slowly loosing his mind.

He took a deep breath to prevent from lashing out, his hand coming out and wiggling his fingers toward hers.

“T-the tapping, it’s irritating. Quit it please.”

Her face dropped from surprised to hurt, and Spencer somehow hated that it was quiet as soon as he said something.

“Right. Sorry,” she whispered so softly Spencer almost couldn’t hear her. She tried to add a little chuckle at the end of her murmur, yet her voice cracked against her own accord.

He watched her fingers stop, instead clenching them in a fist tightly.

Spencer should’ve been glad that the silence he so wanted was granted, but something unsettling brewed in his chest at her facial expression, her now glossy eyes staring at her computer screen. He also noticed her other hand that wasn’t holding the folder was digging into her thigh to prevent it from bouncing out of anxiety.

He didn’t know the feeling, regret, maybe, but all Spencer knew was that he wished he hadn’t said those words.

But he didn’t want to say sorry, something inside him prevented him from doing it. Maybe he was selfish because he ignored the regret in him and took the opportunity to have the ability to focus once more.

“I can’t help, falling in love with you,” she hummed softly, just under her breath as she stirred her favorite tea in the mug the next morning.

Spencer had to admit, he missed her singing in the morning. It reminded him that through all the terrible cases they’ve experienced, there was still happiness in the world, still hope, and she clearly found it through music.

But the pounding headache that didn’t go away that day prevented him from being kind.

So he couldn’t dare to show his wishes of her singing more often, heck no. And the more he thought about it the more irritating it became. He became hyper focused on the breath before each sentence she sang, the cinnamon toothpaste blaring his nose. She was also slightly off pitch every couple seconds, and she sang a couple words wrong.

It got worse when she took forever to mix her tea, blocking his path towards the coffee machine.

He huffed, ignoring the way she flinched. “Move, will ya? There’s people who actually want to do their job and not sing songs about sunshine and rainbows; just please let me get some coffee.”

Her once upwards lips turned down, the light in her eyes going out. She cleared her throat. “Right, s-sorry.”

Spencer couldn’t help it. The comment spat out before he could control it. “S-sorry,” he mimicked. “You do know confidence is a key to this job, right? Quit the childish stuttering it’s infuriating.”

He didn’t see her reaction, but if he did he would see glossy eyes and a facial expression that represented a shattered heart.

She raced out of the room, tea discarded on the counter and beelined towards the bathrooms. She quickly fumbled with the lock. It echoed throughout the bathroom, somehow making her emotions worsen. The tears went full force, a sob covered by her hands surrounding her.

His words kept repeating themselves in her head, telling her that she wasn’t good enough for the job.

Why even apply? He was clearly smarter than her and took things more seriously. What was she thinking? Coming into a field like this and humming and singing all the time? Who does that?

She could feel her makeup smearing, and her black fingers rubbing her cheeks confirmed her suspicions.

She never knew Spencer’s problem with her. Every moment she recalled every encounter, hoping not to come across a moment where she offended him. And she never did.

But now she knew. It was her humming, her tapping, her singing, her stuttering.

She wasn’t good enough to be here.

The thought made her cry harder, the type of sob where your breath catches in your throat, your vision blurry as your chest aches.

A soft knock on the stall door made her both flinch hardly and gasp at the same time.

A throat was cleared, an awkward moment of silence shoving its way between them.

“Can I come in?”

The voice on the other side wasn’t one she expected. Her heart started going on its own path, thumping quickly within her chest.

Her hand moved on its own accord, though hesitantly, and opened the lock.

Spencer’s hand came into view, opening the door and entering himself, closing and locking the door behind him.

Something about him being so close, the door locked, and them being in a place just for one person made her already beating heart pound harder.

His features, no doubt, were beautiful. His nose was like a button, eyes like chocolate in fresh cookies, lips soft and full like a blooming flower.

His hair, oh his hair. It was like a soft blanket she wanted to nestle her fingers onto, pulling at the roots until he let out a satisfying noise-

No.

He hurt her. The words he said. She was upset. He doesn’t like her.

Then why was he having such an effect on her?

Him clearing his throat once more caught her out of her thoughts, eyes meeting his.

“I wanted to say sorry. For what I said,” he whispered, and she noticed his fingers playing with each other. “It wasn’t nice nor professional. And I don’t mean any of it.”

His apology was simple and sincere, eyes somehow widening while gazing at her. (Or were his eyes always like that? Full and desperate?)

“And in case you were wondering, you’re lovely at your job,” he sounded like he was rambling again, but he also seemed desperate to get the words out. “Your singing brings happiness to the place. You’re more than good enough to be here. And I’m sorry I made you doubt your amazing abilities.”

She felt a soft smile come to her lips, cheeks reddening at his complements. She wiped her nose. “Really?”

He nodded, leaning down and grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her cheeks.

Instead of simply giving it to her, he wiped them himself, wiping the damage he did to her away on his own. “I mean it with my whole heart.”

Her heart warmed.

“Thank you Spencer,” she whispered shyly.

He gave her a toothless smile, opening his arms for a hug from her.

Her heart pounded, knowing he barely let anyone touch him, but stepped towards him nonetheless.

Her arms went underneath his blazer, on top of his dress shirt (causing him to shiver) and laying her head on his chest.

He embraced her back, far too tall to be over her shoulder so he rested his chin on her head, shampoo filling his nose.

They stayed like that for a couple moments before pulling back to look at each other.

His eyes met hers, emotions swirling around, like they were trying to tell him something.

If it was a warning or an invitation Spencer didn’t know, but he leaned forward to find out, nose brushing hers.

Her lips parted, causing his eyes to shoot downward at the movement.

He gave her a moment to push away, to shove him out of the stall for even thinking she had any interest on him.

The rejection never came.

He finally planted his mouth on hers, her hands shooting to his hair to pull at his roots, a small groan leaving his lips.

His lips tasted like coffee and something truly Spencer.

Whatever it was pulled her in more, craving the taste of his mouth.

They finally pulled away, breath fanning each other’s faces. She was the one who laughed first against his lips, and he copied her before kissing her once again.

Sure, she was irritating at times, but she was cute, he’d give her that.

[sematarygirls]

can you do rafe and reader matching Halloween costumes?

🎃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── you make rafe do a couple's costume !

   "This is the stupidest fuckin' idea you've ever had," Rafe grumbled begrudgingly as he stood in the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror to aid him in tying his tie.

"We look so cute!" you beamed, ignoring your grumpy boyfriend's dramatics. You had the bright idea that since it was your first Halloween together, it would be so cute to do a couple's costume. Of course, Rafe vehemently protested this idea because he thought he was too cool for Halloween and that dressing up was stupid and childish. The only part he liked of the season was the copious parties with scantily clad women in their sexy-fied costumes and free booze.

It took a great deal of begging and pleading (and a promise of lots of sex to make up for his trouble and lost street cred) for him to finally agree to dress up with you, but when he did, you were over the moon.

You had tons of different ideas. Rafe insisted on the whole cop and prisoner costume, but you shut him down, knowing he had ulterior motives. He just wanted an excuse to put you in handcuffs and have you at his side the entire night. You also considered Ghostface and Sidney Prescott, but you pocketed that idea for another time when finally, you thought of Morticia and Gomez Addams.

You knew Rafe would be more inclined since the costume mainly just consisted of a suit, which meant he wouldn't be dressing up as much as the other costumes demanded. Plus, you knew he'd never pass up the chance to see you in a black dress that hugged you in all the right places—he was a man after all.

His gaze flickered over to your reflection in the mirror, roaming your figure appreciatively. That dress was working for you, and the makeup you'd done to complete the look just made you look all the more sexy. "Why don't we just stay home, yeah?" He proposed. As good as the costume looked on you, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor.

You rolled your eyes at his entirely predictable suggestion. "I did not get all dressed up just to stay inside all night," you told him, pulling at his arm to turn him toward you, so you could fix his tie. "Besides," you glanced up at him, a smile tugging at your lipstick coated lips. "I want to show all your friends how whipped I've got you."

"I'll take this shit off right now," he threatened, but you knew he wouldn't dare, not when he was betting on you putting out tonight.

"Oh, cmon, don't be like that," you grinned, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. "Ah ah ah," you scolded, using your thumb to swipe away some lipstick that had transferred onto his lips. "You're gonna mess up my makeup."

"You just wait till tonight. I'm gonna mess up your makeup alright," he smirked, his eyes glinting with promise as his hands went to your hips, tugging you closer.

"Mhm," you giggled, planting your hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Keep it in your pants, pretty boy," you told him, turning back to the mirror to fix your smudged lipstick. He crossed his arms watching you intently, thinking of all the things he was going to do to you when you two got back from the Halloween party.

[deadghosy]

WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!

Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️

STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘

HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER

prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”

Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…

“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.

Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.

You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.

“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.

NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥

I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.

“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.

Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.

Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.

I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.

I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”

Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”

I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things

NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)

“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”

Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.

The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆

Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.

Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.

I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.

“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”

I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”

Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.

“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭

I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”

I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.

I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.

“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”

THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️

I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.

I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.

Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room

I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.

When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.

I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.

NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️

[abbyshands]

SPENCER’S!ELLIE

⋆𐙚₊˚ content warning: 18+, fem!reader implied, sub!reader, dom!ellie, vibrator usage, the back of spencer’s just says it all, abby feature, praise, use of baby, reader wears glasses

⋆𐙚₊˚ READ THIS FIRST. | LINKS FOR PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK

⋆𐙚₊˚ MASTERLIST

oh, nothing, just thinking about spencer’s!ellie who’s seen many girls in your place before, but could have sworn you shouldn’t have been in a store like this. like, really shouldn’t have been. your friends had dared you to give the store a browse because allegedly, you were too innocent. ellie’s quickly drawn to you in that cute skirt and glasses, clutching your messenger bag like a lost puppy. and quickly, she’s drawn to you, the first to say “welcome to spencer’s” when you walk in.

spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, bets you’ve never even seen a dildo before. spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, is right.

spencer’s!ellie who finally walks up to you browsing the back of the store, looking like you met the devil in the flesh. “you good back here?” she’d ask you, causing you to jump out of your head and back into the present. nervously, you nod. “what? yes. yes, i’m fine. just fine,” but it’s a lie. you’re here wondering if human anatomy even allows for most of these toys to in fit any holes of the body. spencer’s!ellie, who you ask to recommend you a product, that’s according to you, “small,” and “tame.” she chuckled at how shy you seemed to make the request. “like a vibrator, baby?” she asked, like it was common knowledge, like everyone knows vibrators were always the answer. she shows you one, a small blue bullet that seems easy enough to use, but dumbly, you ask, “so it just, does the work for me?”

spencer’s!ellie who can’t miss this chance. “oh, baby. maybe i should give you a little tutorial,” and of course, you agree, because who wouldn’t want those emerald eyes on their own while getting fucked with a vibrator? “come with me.”

spencer’s!ellie who ended up shoving you into a closet in the backroom of the store, sat on a chair, skirt pulled up as she rubbed the vibrator in slow, delicious motions over your aching clit. ellie’s hand was over your mouth, shushing you so you were inaudible. “shhh, be quiet, baby. you don’t want people to hear, do you?” she asks, her voice a whisper as she carries on with her work, causing you to shake your head. “good girl.”

spencer’s!ellie who pushes the vibrator inside you just for fun, nearly laughing at the way you nearly shriek. “fuck, you are such a slut, aren’t you, baby? yeah, you like the way it feels inside you, huh?”spencer’s!ellie who’s wet at the whines and whimpers leaving your lips as your hips rock forward, her hand having fallen at this point to let you speak, because it was too hard to resist. “that’t it, attagirl. being so quiet for me, even when it feels so good. dyin’ to scream my name, aren’t you?” spencer’s!ellie who single handedly (pun intended) has you coming in the backroom of a fucking spencer’s. “you gonna come for me, baby? yeah, fuck, baby, c’mon, make a mess on my fuckin’ hand.”

everybody thank @sugarevans and our unhinged ft call yesterday for this <3

[perfctvelvet]

Can u pls do a threesome fic with Sabrina Carpenter? She’s my favourite at the moment

One, Two, Three; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader/Olivia Rodrigo

Content: 2nd POV. PWP, threesome, strap-on sex, fingering, nipple play.

A/N: I had like two other requests for a Sabrina/Olivia threesome so I'm just combining them into one ask :)

You told them that it wasn't a competition, and they shouldn't treat it as such. Their dislike for each other was still palpable, but if you were to tell them the truth it was that you didn't care for either of the deeper feelings they harbored for each other. Being friends with both of them gave you a unique expressive; you thought they should get over it. Right now none of that mattered, you just wanted to get laid. They happened to be the only people available when you called to alleviate your Saturday night boredom.

Olivia had asked for reassurance that if she went participated she wouldn't have to do anything with Sabrina. You told her that was completely fine but something must've switched in her brain because she lays under Sabrina, her pink nipple in her mouth while you stand behind the blonde and fill her with the inches of your strap-on. Maybe a threesome was a good exercise in getting along. Sabrina was too lost in the feeling of your hips smacking against her ass to care about her issues in the past with Olivia. She was adding to her pleasure, sucking her tits while you pounded her, so the least she could do was show her gratitude. She pries Olivia's legs open with just one hand and finds her pussy. Her slender fingers rub her clit for a few seconds, as a warm up, before sliding into her opening. Sabrina felt a little smug feeling how wet Olivia was. Her pussy was warm and inviting of her fingers.

Seeing the get along and play nice had you feeling a little proud of yourself. If this was a few months or even a year ago this would've never happened. Time heals all wounds they same. Maybe a threesome with your shared fuck buddy does too. You fear there would be some weirdness to this that would ruin the night, but Olivia and Sabrina seemed to be enjoying each other more than you. They were making out, something initiated by Olivia, while you were still inside of Sabrina.

You slowed down your thrusts into Sabrina before completely pulling out. The two were still making out with Sabrina completely unphased by the action. Dare you say you were...jealous? You can't even count on two hands the number of times you've fucked Sabrina all those times you two were single at the same time she was always so needy. She would whine at a simple pause in thrust and the complete absence would make her beg for it. But she was too occupied with her tongue down Olivia's throat to complain. When she moaned it was because Olivia caressed one of her boobs, her thumb brushing against her hard but sore nipple.

To take control again you switched positions. You sat against the couch with the two on either side of her. Sabrina's juices made your strap slick and shine in the light. Olivia grabs it by the base and wraps her lips around the tip before you even have to ask her.

"Good girl," you purr. If Sabrina was usually the needy one, Olivia was the obedient one.

"I bet she never thought she'd lick me off of your cock," that teasing side comes out of Sabrina. It's the side that you sometimes have to fuck out of her.

You give her a look, one that tells her to 'play nice.'

"You better get down there before she takes it all."

Sabrina gives her a small pout, but when she looks down at Olivia with the strap down her throat she feels like she's missing out. Olivia looks up at her and beckons her over. Sabrina joins her with a big smile on her face. She sticks out her tongue and Olivia taps the strap against her tongue. Her favorite thing in the world was tasting herself off of your strap-on, but everything was so much sweeter when it was Olivia who was the one feeding it to her. Olivia grabs the back of Sabrina's head and pushes it down on the strap. It happened so quickly that the air rushed out of her mouth when the tip hit the back of Sabrina's throat. She gagged on it and a felt tears well in her eyes. She was always so good at taking every inch in both her mouth and pussy, but Olivia's action had surprised. It was a little mean, Olivia would admit, but she liked seeing how the tears mixed with Sabrina's eyeliner and ruined her pretty little face.

She does it once more before letting up on the blonde and going back for another taste of the strap. She sucks on the sides and Sabrina does the same. Their tongues occasionally bump together as the dance around the sides of the strap, collecting every job of Sabrina's arousal that is left. Olivia moaned at the taste which delighted Sabrina to her core. She wasn't just enjoying your company, but also Olivia's.

Now it was Olivia's turn. Watching you fuck Sabrina left her feeling insatiable. The blonde was a bit of a cock-hog and Olivia didn't say anything about it, but now she was making sure she was getting some fun too. She straddles you, Sabrina holding the strap still for her and guiding it towards her wet pussy. The tip spreads her open and she eases herself down, inch by inch, until she was fully in your lap. It might've been the biggest thing she's ever taken in her pussy and it was pure heaven. She grabbed onto the edge of the couch behind your head and turned her head and looked down to try to watch herself take your strap.

"Move on her strap Livvy," Sabrina encourages her. Her hand landed on Olivia's ass to guide her up and down. You laid back as Olivia did all of the work. She worked herself up to a steady pace, one that made her a moaning mess. "Ride her dick baby," Sabrina continues. She loved seeing Olivia work hard to make herself cum.

Her tits were right in your face so you took one of her nipples into your mouth. You didn't think Olivia could moan any louder but her voice filled the walls of your bedroom. She fucked herself hard on your strap, but it wasn't until your grabbed her ass with both hands that it was really rough. Each poke at her sweet spot brought her closer to cumming. She could feel Sabrina's hands on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin and occasionally slapping her ass. The force she used told Olivia that even though she was playing "nice", she was still going to find out a way to take out some of her aggression. It's only fair for what Olivia did earlier.

Olivia is going to be a little embarrassed later to admit that the stinging pain from Sabrina's hand caused such a rush in her body that she came right then and there. The last moan to leave her body was weak and pitchy. You know from your times alone before that she was cumming, but Sabrina watched in awe as Olivia came. She felt totally responsible for it and it went straight to her ego

[lazywriters-blog]

Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.

Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.

Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.

Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.

So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.

Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.

Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.

He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.

He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.

He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.

He might resort to desperate measures.

So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.

But something is still holding her back.

"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.

"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.

"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.

"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.

Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.

"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.

"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.

She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.

But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.

[little-diable]

Sinful mouth – Draco Malfoy (smut)

A small drabble for my Draco lovies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, reader lost a bet and has to pay the price

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), slight dubcon (but full consent), dom!Draco, degrading, choking

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (1k words)

“Kneel.” His voice filled her bedroom, bright eyes starting her down as his smirk began to widen. 

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” She knew she had no way out, forced to follow his command - all because of some stupid bet she has lost. “Why can’t you be normal and ask me to do some other shit for you?”

“There’s that fire you always show me. Good, I was wondering how long it’d take for you to snap. Now it’ll make it even more fun to break you.” She watched him lean back against her dresser, arms crossed in front of his shirt-clad chest. (Y/n) hated the way her body reacted to Draco, how her thighs clenched whenever she heard his voice. “I won’t say it again, (y/n). Kneel.”

“And now?” She had dropped to her knees in an instant, staring up at him as she tried not to pay the way her carpet was already rubbing against her skin any attention. “I don’t have a lot of time, so if you can get this over with.”

He was in front of her within seconds, hand clamped around her throat to draw a shaky and surprised gasp from (y/n). Wide eyes met piercing ones, hers full of confusion, his filled with darkness. A darkness so rich, (y/n) feared it'd swallow her wholly and steal her light. 

“It’s your own fucking fault for being this stupid, you had to try and go against me, and you failed. Now be a good girl and pay the fucking price, sweetheart.” Draco’s smile began to widen as he watched her pupils dilate, a sight that left his cock twitching, growing harder in the confines of his trousers. Tonight he’d force his cock down her throat, just like she had always hoped he would, secrets shared with close friends, secrets that had found their way to him years ago. “Keep up this bratty act and see what will happen. We both know you’ve wanted this for years, be happy I’m granting you this wish.” 

“What are you talking about?” She could only whisper the words, not daring to use more strength as Draco tightened the grip on her throat. His eyes burned through her, leaving holes in her trembling body, holes that were filled with lust the second a raspy chuckle left him. 

“You didn’t think you could hide that crush of yours from me, could you? I’ve always known this little act of yours was nothing but lies, trying to distract me from your obsession with me. Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby.” Embarrassment tugged on her features, shooting heat through her body as she tried to avert her gaze – without any luck. Draco’s ringed fingers kept holding her in place, staring down at (y/n) with a satisfied grin glued to his lips. 

“Now, be a good girl and open that mouth for me.” He let go of her to rise back to his feet. Draco would never do this if he weren’t sure of her longings, he’d never pressure her into doing something this intimate if she’d ask him to stop – which she didn’t. All (y/n) did was run her tongue along her lower lip before she parted her lips, tongue exposed to his piercing eyes. 

Her eyes followed the movements of his fingers, how they freed his cock within seconds. Draco had done this numerous times, reach for his cock to fuck his hand to the thought of (y/n), speaking to her as if she was kneeling in front of him, ready to swallow his cock – just like she was now. He stepped back towards her, pushing the pre-cum-bearded tip past her lips, unable to swallow his groan at the warm feeling. 

Eagerly she closed her lips around him, she hallowed her cheeks and began to bob her head, wanting to draw the most sinful sounds out of the tall man. Draco held onto (y/n) with his ringed fingers combing through her hair, keeping an almost possessive grasp on her. She worked carefully, pumping the parts she couldn’t reach just yet, having to force herself to calm down. It took her a few seconds to relax her throat, to take him deeper without panicking, but his sounds were worth the struggle, telling her how much he loved being touched by her.

She tried to focus on Draco, on the taste of him, on the feeling of him resting on her tongue, but her mind kept bringing up his words, reminding her that he was all too aware of her crush on him, a crush she had been fostering for years, ever since meeting him at Hogwarts. But even though she couldn’t help but be embarrassed, (y/n) also began to realize that he must share her feelings, otherwise he wouldn’t have pushed her to do this.

“I’ll never allow you to stop doing that, your mouth’s a sin in itself.” Draco’s raspy words left her chuckling, urging her on to move even faster, set on pushing him over the edge. His hips jerked, forcing his cock deeper down her throat to leave (y/n) choking on her gasps. “Such a desperate slut, you’d rather choke than stop sucking my cock, wouldn’t you?”

The hum leaving (y/n) drew a gritty laugh out of Draco, his head rolled back, exposing his throat to (y/n)’s wandering gaze. She could tell that he was close, twitching in her mouth as he tried to hold back, tried to stop himself from cumming right there and then. Her grip on his cock grew tighter, adding more speed to her movements as he once again forced himself down her throat. 

“I want you to swallow every drop, show me how greedy you are for me.” Their eyes met as he spoke the words, seconds before he came down her throat. (Y/n) watched him cum undone, feeling him paint her mouth white with his cum. She swallowed, only pulled away as he loosened his grip on her hair, waiting for (y/n) to expose her now clean tongue to his eyes. 

“The next time you lose a bet, I’ll fuck you, that much I can promise, sweetheart.”

[seetangus]

Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”