#lament of innocence: or as i like to call it

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘there's only one of these left and I need it more than you’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 20 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (500w) Established relationship. Fluff. Smut.

Imagine Bucky joining you in the shower. You slipped in while he was still sleeping, needing to start your day, and he comes in not five minutes later, lamenting your absence, trying to convince you to stay home. Promises of a lazy day in bed together are tempting, but things are just too busy at work - it doesn’t feel fair to saddle someone else with more responsibility because you want to spend time with your boyfriend. Bucky doesn’t immediately press the issue, deciding to appreciate what little time he does have with you, pulling you into his embrace under the hot spray. You eagerly welcome his touch, sharing playful good morning kisses in between washing off, his hands never leaving your body. Once you’re squeaky clean, there’s no delaying the inevitable, your intimate shower soon coming to an end. Your disappointing pout leads to more kisses, Bucky wishing he could erase all the stressors from your life, your happiness essential to his own. The least he can do is send you to work relaxed, his hand finding its way between your wet thighs, the water droplets soon mixing with your arousal. There isn’t much time, but Bucky doesn’t need it, his mouth sucking on your neck adding to the growing tension in your belly, his skilled touch working you towards a quick orgasm. His soft growl about how good you feel sends you spiraling, his name escaping your lips as your body shudders against him, your nails digging into his shoulders. It leaves you wanting more, his thick fingers stroking that spot deep inside of you that has you gasping, trying to prolong your pleasure as long as possible. And then you’re left empty, his mouth covering yours to drown out your needy whine, his erection trapped against your stomach, his own desire for more being momentarily ignored. There are more pressing matters, like getting you to agree to take the day off, a devious plan springing to mind as he reaches over to finally shut off the water. Before you can read the grin growing on Bucky’s face, he’s jumping out of the shower to grab the single towel hanging on the rack, calling out that he needs to feed Alpine. He ignores your initial shout of his name, your laughter dampening your actual irritation at being left dripping wet, in every sense of the term. It’s not until he hears “James Buchanan Barnes!” that he reappears, sporting an innocent smile and the damp towel secured on his hips. When his hungry gaze roams your naked body, you narrow your eyes at him, demanding a towel to dry off. Bucky has a better idea, offering to lick off every drop instead, starting with the one currently following the curve of your breast. Whatever argument you’re preparing dies on your tongue, quickly resigned to the fact that you’ll forever be weak to his advances. Besides, it's not like work can't survive without you for a couple of hours anyway.

Day 19 | Imagine… Masterlist | Day 21

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[beevean]

Walter + Leon | 44. …out of lust.

In his long existence, Walter had believed to have seen it all. Humans, in the long run, were no more unpredictable than beasts to be tamed, their anger, their hatred, their sorrow, they were all toys in Walter's hands, and he had learned by heart the right words to shape them like clay. If they didn't make the funniest noises when in the throes of despair, he would have already grown bored of them.

Leon Belmont did not merely surprise him. He was the first human in a handful of centuries that had done the impossible: he impressed Walter.

(He refused to dignify the surge of emotion that overcame him at the blow that shattered his precious Ebony Stone.)

Oh, Walter had not fought with such gusto since immemorial times! The whip that he lashed with the strength of a demon did not dent his armor, but stung as if crosses were being nailed inside his flesh! The human was quick on his feet, focused, and his blood sang the most melodious of melodies, that of pure, undistilled, deadly fury.

The blood of the maiden Walter had bitten rushed through his body in delight. He liked this one. He would have to thank the knight's friend for proposing him such a treat.

But, naturally, Walter was no young creature of the night: no, he was the night, and he would take for himself whatever he deserved and coveted. The knight was still a lowly human being, and as such, fallible and destined to become prey.

The knight could not protect himself against Walter's Demonic Disaster. The sight of his true form was enough to paralyze him for a second: more than enough for Walter to lunge and grab him by the throat, enough for him to feel the blood pumping underneath his fingertips.

"Keep struggling, brave knight! Perhaps, if you are lucky, my little finger will slip off!" Walter laughed at his efforts. The kicks to his stomach were as light as caresses, but he had to commend the human for his foolhardiness. "Your woman was much of the same, thrashing around and screaming, powerless but oh so brave... I wonder," he brought him closer to his mouth, his lips brushing against his ear, "if you taste and feel as delicious as she did."

He waited. How he enjoyed that split second when his words soaked in, and the men realized what he had done to their former maidens.

Limbs frozen in place. Eyes wide. Heart hammering so strongly, it drowned every other sound. And, most importantly, mouth agape.

"No... you...!"

Walter cared not for any stale insult the knight might hurl at him; hence, he took his fill.

He did taste as delicious as his woman. The knight's mouth was coated in blood from their battle: the pungent taste of holy only invigorated Walter, as he subdued the stubborn human still punching him and pulling his hair. His God may have given the strength to overcome the challenges Walter put in his way, but in the end, he had fallen into his hands, and thus, he was his to do as he pleased.

The promise he made to himself boiled warmly below his belly. He graciously allowed the man to breathe.

"You know, it would be a waste to kill you. With your delicate features and amusing skills, you could make for a fine doll." He trailed his lips down his jaw, on his throat, ripe to be opened as the rest of his body: his shivers only fanned the excitement pumping in his chest. "You have been victorious against my most formidable lieutenants: therefore, I will reward you handsomely. I shall keep at my side for as long as I wish it--"

And then fire engulfed him.

Walter shouted, in surprise and pain, white-hot pain blinding him, consuming his flesh; he stumbled backwards, dimly aware that he was vulnerable - no, he had been bested by a toy!

The Belmont stood there, trembling, but with a vial of holy water clutched in hand. Without a word, but his teeth snarled at him, he lifted that cursed whip once more.

Well. Walter will make sure to break him, before playing with him.

[castlephantom]

Succubus (Lament of Innocence)

[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.

[ithebookhoarder]

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous. 

No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 

“Oh?” you croaked. 

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 

You remembered what you’d forgotten. 

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 

No one moved. 

No one said a word. 

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

[ellecdc]

hi gorgeous!! I love your writings so much :)

I was wondering if u could request a poly!marauders x fem!reader who just loves baking so much and keeps leaving the boys little treats around the house depending on what each boy likes and they’re just so lovestruck for her, just like lots of fluff and them being the lover boys they are

thank you so much <3

this is so sweet! thanks for requesting, I hope you love it!! 💖

poly!marauders x fem!reader who loves to bake

James walked in to the flat and was immediately bombarded with the smell of freshly baked goods. One would think after three weeks of you living with them that he would have grown accustomed to it, but the expression on his face grew into what he could only imagine was pure, unadulterated bliss at the welcoming aroma that he could only describe as distinctly you. 

He’d hardly gotten his shoes off and hung his jacket before Pads was yanking him past the kitchen and into the living room.

“Sshh! Don’t interrupt, just watch.” Sirius stressed and he forced James to kneel on the sofa facing the window into the kitchen. James had half a mind of squawking at him but couldn’t deny the beautiful picture this painted.

“He’s been in there with her all day.” Sirius offered as James watched Remus follow you around the kitchen as if the two of you had been charmed into magnets, and he was hopelessly drawn to you. Apparently, you were either unaware of his proximity or unfazed by it. James didn’t blame you at all, though; he often felt drunk in love when Remus was paying that much attention to him too. He also felt drunk in love when watching you do anything at all. He was sort of drunk in love having Sirius’ arm wrapped around his waist right now.

James was just always drunk in love.

“What could she possibly be making now? I’ve not even finished all the apple turnover’s she made for me!” James murmured, though his concern was belittled by the raging grin spreading across his face.

“I haven’t finished the ginger snaps she made for me either, but she’s making Rem chocolate croissants.” He stage-whispered.

“Oh my gods, that sounds heavenly.” James whispered back, watching Remus make heart eyes at you as you explained something to him; the poor sod wasn’t even paying attention to the instructions. James couldn’t blame him, however, when the instructor was as pretty as you. “Think he’ll share with us?”

“Fat chance.” Remus called from kitchen, apparently privy to the whispered conversation going on in the room next to him. You looked up surprised at Remus’ interjection, apparently not having heard the dialogue.

“What?” You asked innocently, though your brows furrowed in concern – you knew better when it came to these boys. 

“Moony says he won’t share the croissants with us, dollface.” Sirius lamented, putting on his best kicked puppy impression. You seemed to melt a little bit at that, but Remus – the bastard – pressed up against you and shoved his nose in the crook of your neck, causing you to melt even more than Sirius could hope from such a distance.

“Oi – foul! Come on!” James cried at the unfair advantage Remus had.

“You boys still have your treats, don’t you?” You asked quietly, clearly more than a little embarrassed at how easily you were swayed by Remus loving-up on you. James almost felt bad about being petulant. Almost.

But not quite.

“Everything you make is so wonderful and filled with love though, angel.” He pouted. Remus groaned in exasperation, though he never bothered to peel himself off of your back.

“Fine. You sods can have some.”

James and Sirius both cheered from their spots on the couch as if they’d been watching football on the telly.

“We’re going to have to get those blood test thingies to watch our blood sugar, though.” Sirius commented.

“Worth it.” Remus and James said in unison. 

[nemesyaaa]

bones and all au // rafe cameron x reader

summary : “ you're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth. ” strangers by ethel cain.

warnings : if you were not comfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino, don't read this !! mature plot. a lot lot lot of blood. sick and gore attitude. cannibalism used as a form of love. strangers/ode to eaters by ethel cain muse. smut. pomegranate used as a metaphor of cannibalism. jealousy. mentions of organs and anatomy. some b&a refs but you can read it without watching the movie. violence. minors DNI. +18.

author's note : crdits to @starfxkrreloaded for this au. you can reach for her ode to eaters au which is very insane ! please, i know this is very twisted but don't send hate or be mean in the comments. if you dont want to read something like that, it's your right and i respect it, just scroll. to the rest, hope you will enjoy. it's my first time writing something like that so i'm kinda nervous. and by the way, the movie is very beautiful, taylor russell was incredible in this. i highly recommend you.

you lived in an old house in the midwest, the southern gothic type with an empty fridge, broken stairs, carcasses of eaten animals in the garden, a tv too old to be turned on, a radio player too damaged to be listened to , a completely dirty kitchen with dishes full of dishes in the sink, and nasty dirts on the floor. there was also that damn lamp that flickered and came on every other time, that icy water that froze your bones, that cold tiles that creaked under your feets. the windows were rarely open but when they were, the shutters slammed against the wind, your underwear hung over the radiator. but you really liked this place, in fact, it was the only place you could call home without wanting to collapse in tears.

you had your headphones on in that empty quiet space, and a probably dead singer in your ears living through your swaying body. you found this pomegranate on the table while searching. it was intact, still shiny and full of good things.

you didn't need a knife when you had a hungry beast inside you to cut the fruit with your teeths. you had dug your molars inside the seeds, directly into the fresh and virgin skin, opened the eviscerate flesh, tearing away everything you can with your mouth, the still delicious juice ready to feed your thirst and starved your hunger.

you smelled the fruity and juicy scent through your nose, splitted open the pomegranate, discovering the clean and clear inner bones, a pretty red color, even more oozing and sublime than your blood, a perfect complexion reminiscent of the sanguinary meat of your anatomy. your tongue and teeth were sunk in, completely buried in the dripping morsel. your face and cheeks were full of it, shining onto your dirty and sticky fingers. the juice burst, squeezed in your hands as you devoured this fruit, the liquid of which flowed, dripping down your neck and chest, slipping toward your tummy like an unstoppable river.

you were bad as a demon, but nothing stopped you. you bit and bit like a mad dog into the flesh of the fruit like a piece of meat, extracting with your molars everything that you could recover and stuck in your throat.

the more you ate, the more the fruit bled. but you heard nothing, no lamentations. nothing could stop you from eating, from the rage beating. it was sickly, obscene and depraved.

you looked like such an innocent thing, but inside you, there was nothing like that. and you couldn't fool anyone with your tears and your regrets, because you didn't have any.

you had dropped the pomegranate on the ground, there was nothing left except a broken corpse. you had consumed everything from the flesh to the bones, from the skin to every part.

your dress was stained. you stank of pomegranate as much as sin. there was nothing good in you, and above all, there were too many people in you.

rafe had come home in the night while you were waiting in the armchair in the living room, with this juice stuck to your body. you hadn't moved. for some reason you were faithful to your partner. maybe because he scared you, or because you understood that without him you couldn't survive.

he had thrown the key in the table and came before you.

he came toward you in the same state you had seen him for the first time, covered in blood and with glowing blue dilated eyes. you knew that he had eaten, that he had devoured someone because he was not like you. rafe was worse. he understood that nature was to kill but beyond that, it was something he was trying to teach you as your mentor. that we should not regret giving in to impulses, that if we did not listen to them, they would end up killing us.

that we were originally monsters, and that we had to deal with it. you didn't know if he was telling the truth, if he was right. but he was taller than you. you found a maturity in him that fascinated you, that forced you to listen to him.

he had taken off his shirt, and you looked up at his face. he smelled of blood, that strong, metallic smell that you could sniff from several meters away but especially his because you knew him by heart.

“jesus, don’t look at me like that. you wanted to stay at home, i didn't force you to. ”

“it was a girl. what was she like? did you like it ? ”

you didn't know if it was jealousy, or curiosity. you just knew you didn't like knowing he was with some girls even if it wasn't going to last.

with a smirk but at the same time terribly cold face, he answered you. "if you're that jealous, use that energy and mouth to taste it. maybe, you will have some answers. ”

you got up from the chair to join him. you didn't want to share him, even though you knew there was only you in his life. you knew it because since you knew him, he had never talked about his family, nor contacted relatives in the payphone. then, he rarely spoke about his private life. he often made fun of you, because it was more your type of thing to open up about personal moments. you never knew if he was really listening to you but he stayed until the end of your speech.

eagerly, you kissed him, that girl’s blood sliding against your lips, your mouth capturing rafe’s in a kiss, as your cheeks crushed against his bloody face. “ mine, mine.” you whispered, pushing your tongue against his. “ clean that blood, babe. i can't be yours if she's still here. ” he had slipped his hands under your skirt, pressing the flesh of your ass. he had a ring on, the cold metal playing against your skin. you could smell it, just like what he had eaten before coming home.

he sat on the probably moldy and torn couch in your living room, you were almost his height now that you were sitting on top of him. you were hungry, as much for him as for sex. he made you feel so many things, or it was this jealousy, this thirst within you that made you so hungry. you weren’t really sure.

you took one of his fingers still covered in blood, the recent taste of raw flesh now in your cavity. he had pushed his thumb deeper in your mouth, making you suck the pulp properly. the liquid bleeding against your tongue, as his flesh quickly brushed your cavity, your drooling lips curved around him. he pushed it in until he felt your throat.

he was playing with fire, he was playing with you, because he knew you could bite him at any moment but he had also conditioned you not to.

“so, how is it? ”

“nothing tastes better than you.” you simply replied. “ right ? nothing can be as good as me. ” he said in a mocking tone.

he had undone the strap of your dress, revealing one of your tits which he had taken in his palm before taking it in his mouth. your nipple was pressed between his teeth, your skin trapped in his hand as he sucked on your piece of flesh, pinching it only ever so gently in his mouth. he still had remnants of blood, slipping between your body and his tongue.

there was something sensual between this slow sucking, fast suction of the tongue around your throbbing nipple, your spiraling stomach against the void, the movement of his adam's apple in his throat while he tasted every beads of your boobs. rafe was good at it.

he pressed your tits, grabbed them tightly and firmly against his palm, nibbling the tip, caressing the pulp, kissing the flesh. and maybe if he had bitten into it, you would have cum instantly.

his hand was on you, covering your body in blood and sweat, tracing your figure with his soiled and bloody fingers like a canva, letting them run over your skin like a paintbrush.

he was hidden by your sucked breasts. and you wanted him full. you had started to grind against him, even with your underwear separating you from him and his piece of jeans, you managed to be completely soaked on him. your hips moved in motion, lifting delicately like a porcelain doll too afraid of getting hurt.

you were no worse than him, and he was no worse than you. you were both terrible people. there was no hierarchy among people like you.

but the first time you saw him, in that shirt full of blood, with that mouth so red and that oozing dripping neck.

it was dark, but you knew very clearly what he had done, and perfectly well who he had eaten. you had observed it and you had not seen a monster. you weren't afraid.

he wasn't mean and monstruous, just indifferent.

"if you want to eat, that man is still over there." he said simply, not trying to hide or deny what you were seeing.

and you liked it. you instantly liked it.

“ you're the one who interests me.”

“you know the drill, we don’t eat each other.”

“i mean, will you let me come with you?”

"listen to me carefully, i don't have the face of a babysitter, nor the skills to do so. get by, you may be a minor but if you're old enough to do what you do when mom and dad have their backs turned, i swear, you can get through this on your own. ”

“i’m an adult.” you cut him off.

“your age was a nice excuse for me to tell you that i’m not interested. i bet you're an adult. ”

you had followed him when he approached his pickup. "i wouldn't bother you. but i need help. i mean, this is new to me. i don't do this often while you seem to be experienced. i want.. .i want to be like you, not to be afraid of that.”

“what makes you think i’m the right person for this?”

“you may not necessarily be the right person, but you’re the one I want.”

“you know, i already have a lot of problems, i don’t need a burden on all of them.”

“please. i won’t be one. you have my word.”

"you really don't give me a choice. come up crybaby, but if you bother me, i won't hesitate to abandon you, no matter where."

you nodded. it was going back, but in the meantime, you had traveled to many states of america, and probably left a pile of corpses on your way. even though it hadn’t been easy, he had taught you how to drive.

one cold summer night, in the darkness of a tent in the middle of nowhere, you hadn't managed to sleep. but when you opened your eyes, rafe wasn't sleeping either.

“you should sleep, you’re the one driving tomorrow. ”

“you want to know who my first victim was? "

"i guess even if i don't care, you're going to tell me. so go ahead. knock me out, tell me something your little lips haven't told me yet. and don’t say victim, you're much an innocent thing than a killer. but don’t worry, i'm about to raise you very well. ”

his hands had gripped your hips to position you above him. “but for now, tell me about your boring story, maybe it will help me sleep.”

you had told him a lot of your past. the first time you had eaten someone, the babysitter your father had hired who had ended up torn apart on the floor and another part in your mouth. oh it really wasn't beautiful. and this time, in the summer camp where a boy had mysteriously disappeared because you had devoured him in the woods. and that friend at school whose finger you swallowed. it was stronger than you. you needed to eat.

and rafe was the only one to understand it.

the most intimate moments in a relationship should be sex, but for the two of you it was different. it was when you ate together, when you both had blood around your mouth, that you could taste his, and he could taste yours. when there was this connection between you.

he was a different eater from you, he was bestial and cold, sinking his teeth straight into the flesh, tearing off the parts of the body one by one. his bites were mean and cruel. the way, his teeths pulled the organs, the ribcage. you watched him, his hungry raging mouth embracing the darkness of his needs, ripping all the raw meat out roughly. oh the blood, it leaked into every corner of his pretty and bloody lips that you wanted to kiss so badly, to feel the liquid and flesh filling and consuming the space of your throat and your tongue as your body swallowed everything he gave you. oh how much, rafe loved to feed you directly in the mouth, letting you suck the flowing red wet all around his jaw, and down his neck to the cool grass. he was beautiful. insanely handsome. but also, so scary.

his skin was covered in a red, metallic coat. his eyes were consumed with pleasure, while devouring the body of your victim.

he was very different from you, who was more delicate in your movements, or rather clumsy. your bites were messy, your touches lighter, even with the blood all over you.

but it was in those moments that the sex was the best afterwards. when his tongue, still red and famished with blood, circulated over the skin of your stomach, leaving a reddish river against your flesh.

and it went even further than that, when he found himself lost between your legs, his warmth muscle completely buried inside you, lapping your soaked folds, licking you like a starving man, his mouth pressed around your sloppy wet cunt. your juices dripping against his open wided mouth and jaw, the throbbing of your clit against his nose, the way your beating pussy smeared the blood across his lips and cheeks every time he entered and devoured your delicious slick.

since you didn't eat each other, it was your only way to feed him, to make him taste you. you didn't know if he loved your taste but in any case his tongue always came back to find you, to fuck that cunt, lodging itself between your soggy walls.

he forced you to keep your thighs apart, one hand resting on your bruised tummy which contracted every time you felt him on your core.

your legs shaking around his shoulders, the way his bloody mouth nibbled on your clit. you moaned in the middle of this abandoned place. you could shout as loud as you wanted, no one would come, no one would hear you.

you loved feeling his large hands on your bruised skin, especially after eating, because they were dirty and sloppy. you let your tongue clean the blood stuck to his fingers, the drops falling into your mouth.

it was strange how love can be perceived for everyone. ever since you were a child, you have been unable to show affection without hurting people. when you loved someone, it was tragic because you had this need to devour and consume them, to make them a part of you, to make them live within you.

but for rafe, it was different.

you were total opposites. and even though you lived together, you wondered if he felt things for you. if he had ever been in love.

because you liked to think that the way he kept you around, the way he let you stay with him at night, the way he always came home, and was open to doing all these things with you, that was his way to show you that you mattered to him. you even wondered if he came back every night because he couldn't let go of you. yet, at the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't have hesitated.

here, in this rickety house, you didn't pay rent. it belonged to one of your victims. you always did that, you killed people, and robbed them of their belongings. you took their money, clothes and possessions. you were stealing the lives of these people. at first you felt guilty but now you feel nothing. it was life.

“i love you. ” you told him, as you straddled him on your shared bed, your fists curled in the pieces of sheets. “i really love you, rafe.” you were moaning and feverish, every inch of his thick cock buried in your core, hitting your spot.

while you were bouncing on him, your ass slapped against his muscular thighs. he grabbed your breasts moving over his face, as his dick was ruining you, each of his thrusts destroying your canal. you were as tight as the first time he fucked you in the back of the pickup. he gripped your ass, pinching the flesh.

he wrapped his hand around your throat before losing his face in your neck, his mouth kissing that immaculate part of your body. he placed kisses, before lightly sinking his teeths into your skin, nibbling and sucking on this skin offered to him, while you continued to take him just below him. “yea, you love me. ” with a hard stroke further into you. “still fucking tied to me. ”

and he wasn't wrong, you were so glued to him, completely submissive. he was inside you, filling you completely, every part of his length stuck to your walls, parting your pussy lips, your moans muffled above his head as your arms wrapped around his back. you were desperate and whimpering, the wet sounds of your repeated moans echoing around the room.

you could feel the twitch of his stomach against your skin, the perfect harmony of your two bodies in sync, he speared you violently with his fat cock, let you hear his grunts and heavy breathing against your neck, coming straight from his throat.

you were sweaty and noisy, like one of his victims, but most of all, you were his, his hands all over your body like a prize. every touch was possessive, your head tilted back, and his mouth melted onto your jaw. he fucked you roughly, making you bounce on him and cry.

his blue eyes shone in the darkness of the room. they were on you, in a perfect focus.

“do you love me? " you asked him, your body going through trembling spasms, your skin covering his. you were desperate and suffocating. your breaths were rapid and frantic.

he moved your head with his hand on your throat, his gaze flickering above your collarbones. you felt like you were pretty with the importance his pupils gave you.

you wondered if he had ever wanted to eat you alive, because after all, even if you were an eater, you were still easy prey.

and maybe even sometimes you fantasized about what he could do, because you wouldn't have minded seeing him dug his teeth into your flesh like meat, seeing him consume you one by one, your bones getting sucked, your blood spurting against his tooth.

you would have loved to sacrifice your body to feed him, to be that pomegranate to him, to see him smile through your organs, to see his belly swell because you were in a thousand pieces inside.

you would have loved for him to eat you alive, because you knew rafe would have done it out of love.

“ don't leave me or i will eat you. ” you said to him, his hands brushing your hair like a lover. “ every part of you. like you taught me. ”

“ bones and all ? ”

“ bones and all, my love. ”

and he smiled, fucking smiled all over your kisses, his lips covered yours.

“ then, what are you waiting for ? sunk those teeths in me. scared for what, babe ? nothing that you have not tasted before.”

[vivalarevolution]

𝓤𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Jacaerys Velaryon x Orphan Reader

Request: „Jacaerys , who grew up together with the Reader - whom Rhaenyra adopted and raised. Over time, their friendship changed, but since they never had the courage to admit their feelings, they gradually began to distance themselves from each other. When Jacaerys is promised to Baela, their relationship is no longer the same. They both blame each other for what happened and continue to minimize their interactions until their father promises her hand in marriage to someone else.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

-Since she found out , she has not spoken a word to me…she hates me - the young prince lamented to his mother , Princess Rhaenyra , who watched him carefully , furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.

-You yourself said that you have hatred for her , why now your indifference to her has changed so drastically? - his mother remarked, looking for every single emotion that bubbled up inside him, wanting to understand what was hidden in the mind of her eldest son.

-I never hated her - he denied , closing his eyes and sighing heavily , frustrated -She is the one who hates me. She barely talks to me , and when she does it's as if ice falls out of her mouth instead of words.

-And why that bothers you now, my sweet boy? - Rhaenyra said softly, coming up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder - What happened that now , so suddenly, you crave her attention and acceptance?

Jacaerys was silent for a while, looking into the distance through the chamber window. Eventually he turned to his mother, his eyes filled with helplessness and anger , which slowly took control over his body.

He wanted to scream , he wanted to break everything within his reach and turn it into dust. But he did nothing and without a word , he walked away.

His steps were rapid , almost violent and hard. He walked through the corridors of Dragonstone as if the beast possessed his flesh , leaving behind a raw anger and tension that made the air heavier. And before he could chase away the fog that clouded his mind , he found himself in the chamber of his sister - Y/n Velaryon.

His dark eyes wandered involuntarily through the empty chamber , while his hands touched things that belonged to her. Stuck in an ocean of memories , he paused at the wooden desk, his fingers gliding over the material adorning the covers of old books , some closed , some open on pages , which she had read many times ,along with him , when they were still full of innocence.

He let himself remember , until his gaze rested on a piece of paper hidden between the pages. And before he could think about the subsequent consequences and implications , his hand uncover a letter , a letter regarding her...and the betrothal with Samwell Blackwood's son.

-Why are you here? - suddenly a female voice called out , a voice belonging to his younger sister , who was standing in the threshold of the chambers , looking at him , frowning her eyebrows.

-You can't marry him - he said , looking at her like an enraged animal, ignoring her question - You can't - he repeated, his body yet again being controlled by anger.

Her eyes rested on the paper , that was held by the young man in a disturbingly strong grip.

-How dare you tell me what to do? - she asked him , her voice dangerously cold -How dare you?!

-I dare to tell you what to do because I am your brother -he growled , clenching his hand into a fist , in which there was a letter.

-Brother? - she made an ironic sound - Our mother may have taken me under her care and raised me as her own, but that does not mean that you are my brother, no brother should be indifferent, cruel and cold as you are - she stated, and every word she spoke sounded like a sea of daggers that were cutting his body.

Jacaerys moved towards her, trapping her between the heavy wooden door and her own body.

-You talk about coldness and indifference? You are a hypocrite - he muttered, furrowing his thick eyebrows in annoyance - You are the one who destroyed the bond we once had. From the moment Baela was promised to me, you decided to destroy everything that was between us.

-If this is what you think - she scoffed, her eyes and voice devoid of emotions - If I make you so unhappy, you should be glad that I'm leaving for the Riverlands. You won't have to listen to me anymore, you won't have to see me.

-Do you truly think that's far enough? Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? - he muttered , looking into her siren eyes that seemed to draw him in.

They were both breathing harshly , words hanging heavy between them.

-What do you want me to do? - she whispered, feeling the air between them getting hotter -What do you want me to do to end your torment? - she asked , looking at him with misty eyes.

-I want you…to be mine - he replied - From the moment you let me touch your soft skin, from the moment you let me hear your voice, from the moment you let me admire your beautiful face I wanted you to be mine. Please dear sister , please let me be mine. Don't leave me, just be mine and I will be yours.

In response, the woman embraced his jaw with her warm palm and, moving closer to him, she let her full lips brush his.

-Nyke emagon va moriot issare aōhon Jacaerys (I have always been yours Jacaerys) - she confessed quietly , closing her eyes as his lips began to press against hers , desperate to feel her even closer , even more intensely.

Wet kisses spread over her lips , cheeks and jawline , leaving a trail of saliva behind. Jacaerys kissed her everywhere he could , marking her face with his mouth.

They were both needy , oh so needy. Every touch , every caress ,every whimper , every moan was more desperate than the last.

-Jaes ao yknagon sīr sȳz (Gods you smell so good) - he muttered , moving his nose along her neck , taking in the scent of the oils she sprinkled on her body and the sweat that had managed to appear on her skin through the heat she was in -Ao sylutegon sȳz tolī issa dōna mandia, sīr sȳz (You taste good too my sweet sister , so good) - he whispered in the hollow of her neck , licking and biting her pulse , while his long fingers , lazily hooked into the black fabric of her dress , letting it fall from her shoulders , revealing her firm , ample breasts.

-Oh Jacaerys - she mewled , embracing his head, entwining her fingertips between his wavy hair, pulling at its ends, drawing him closer to her -Don't stop…please don't stop touching me.

-Dōrī (Never) - he breathed out into her mouth , before he attacked her naked breasts , his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples , sucking them and tasting them with his tongue like a man starved.

Y/n moaned quietly , closing her eyes and surrendering to the feeling of a man's mouth on her skin and hands that sensually glided over her thighs , pulling the dark material up , revealing the material of her delicate undergarments.

-Jacaerys - she whimpered , watching as he sank to his knees in front of her.

-Will you let me taste you? - he asked , with rough fingers gliding along her smooth legs , stopping at her rounded hips , revealing her wet , swollen womanhood.

-Yes , yes , yes - she whispered , closing her eyes and tilting her head.

He was gentle and painfully slow, kissing and sucking her firm skin, leaving marks on her flesh as he got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.

She quickly fell into numbness. The amount of attention she was receiving seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jacaerys tormenting her womanhood in such an addictive way. She could compare him to a hungry animal , by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity, sampling every piece, not wanting to miss absolutely anything. She let the knot in her lower abdomen burst, spreading through her body the delightful and burning pleasure that was constantly coursing through her veins through the tongue of a man who refused to leave her, feasting on her even longer.

-Please let me feel you closer. I need you closer , closer than you have ever been - he groaned , embracing her frame , securing it in his strong arms and moving them so that he rested on the bed behind them, placing Y/n on his strong legs, immediately proceeding to attack her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance, which was waiting for him, embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her, sensually moving them.

-Whatever you want , I'll give you whatever you want. But I beg you , don't make me wait my dear brother…I beg you. I need you as you need me…closer than we everwere - she whispered into his mouth , leaning her head towards his.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as Jacaerys removed his fingers from her tight canal , replacing them with his thick and veiny shaft that penetrated her gummy walls, making her hide her face in the hollow of his neck, moaning and panting as she felt her brother pushing inside her for the first time, kissing her cervix with his member, giving her incredible pleasure and pain that only increased her desire.

He tried to be gentle and slow, but the nails digging into his back, the melodious moans at his ear and the warmth of his sweet sister's body made him rough , almost violent , taking advantage of her trembling body , which seemed to melt into his.

-Ñuha jorrāelagon (My beloved) - Y/n whined , feeling the recently discovered pleasure grow in her lower abdomen, forming another knot ready to burst at any moment.

-Ivestragon nyke iksā ñuhon (Tell me you're mine) - the prince growled, thrusting into her harder, making her feel as if his manhood was deep in her belly.

-Iksan aōhon, iksan aōhon, mērī aōhon! (I'm yours, I'm yours, only yours!) - Y/n announced, grabbing his wavy curls, pulling them tight as an electrifying sensation went through her body, making her almost blind with pleasure.

-Arlī , ivestragon ziry arlī (Again , say it again) - he demanded, attacking her neck.

-Iksan aōhon (I am yours) - she repeated, bringing their foreheads together.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

After everything, she was finally his.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

SWEETHEART!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Sweetheart!Anakin whose mom was best friends with your mother so you two basically grew up together

Sweetheart!Anakin who always took care of you. Especially when he was a little boy; you were a bit younger than him, so he felt a responsibility to keep you safe. And since you two went to the same preschool it was easier;

Ani's eyes widened as he witnessed the boy pushing you. Without a moment of hesitation, he rushed over and shoved the boy back. "Hey!" his voice firm as he addressed the boy. "Leave her alone!" The little boy's ears perked up at Ani's words, and a look of surprise crossed his face. His cheeks flushed, realizing he'd been caught in the act. Ani stood protectively in front of you, his little fists clenched. "I said, leave her alone!" The other boy's voice trembled with fear as he sheepishly replied, "I-I'm sorry..." Before running away hastily, his small lisp prominent in his rushed apology. Ani turned to you, extending his hand to help you stand up. Worry was etched across his face as he asked, "Are you all right?" You nodded, gratefully accepting his small hand in yours. "Yes, thank you," you murmured softly. His pout deepened after his gaze moved down to your bruised knees. He knelt before you, gently examining them. "You're hurt..." he lamented quietly, his concern evident.

"Oh--I just fell," you managed to say, a slight lisp evident in your voice. Ani tenderly took your hand once more and guided you to sit on a nearby bench. He knelt in front of you, meticulously avoiding pressing too hard on your bruises. With care, Ani's young hands gently grazed your soft skin. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "It stings a bit," you replied, a frown creasing your face.

Ani furrowed his brows and glanced up at you, his young fingers dancing across your skin with delicate care. He bent down and gently blew on the tender skin, attempting to alleviate your pain. "My mother once told me that to soothe a wound, all you need is a kiss," he whispered, his speech slightly affected by a lisp. After placing a small peck on both your knees, he pulled away, diligently playing the role of a miniature doctor. A satisfied smile graced his face as he asked, "Better?"

"yes" you giggled

Sweetheart!Anakin who picks up flowers for you and tugs it behind your ear

Sweetheart!Anakin who started calling you Rapunzel after you dressed as her and his young self went high over heels for you

Sweetheart!Anakin who often spent time in your house as a kid;

You both were playing and running together in the garden before you stopped by the big, old tree "my mommy said that you have to love someone to get married" you said, turning your big, innocent eyes on him.

"Love? Like how my mom loves my dad?" Anakin repeated, his head tilted curiously.

You thought for a moment, your little mouth shaping the words. "I think..."

Anakin's thoughtful expression softened as he nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I think that's right. When you love someone, you want to be with them all the time. And my mom and dad are always together, so I guess they must love each other a lot"

"we are together all the time" you lisped to which Anakin's cheeks flushed pink at the realization of the truth in your words. You two were always together, and it suddenly felt like a profound revelation.

"Yeah... we are," he responded, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice as he looked down to kick a pebble with his foot.

Your innocent question, tinged with a hint of nervousness, hung in the air. "Does that mean we should get married?"

His eyes widened at the mention of 'marriage', a term he had heard his parents speak of but never fully grasped the true meaning of. Yet, the thought of being with you forever filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging.

He met your wide-eyed gaze, his cheeks still tinged with a soft pink. "I think it does," his heart pounding in his chest

"So... does that mean we're... engaged now?" he asked, his voice barely audible, his shy gaze searching your face for a reaction.

"I think..."

Anakin grinned at your response, a mixture of disbelief and joy coursing through him. Engaged to his best friend, his favorite person in the world - it was beyond his wildest dreams. Especially when he felt such strong feelings for you.

"We have to make it official then." His voice held a hint of determination, attempting to sound mature. "Wait here."

With childlike enthusiasm, he sprung up from the ground and bounded over to his mother, who was sitting with yours. He plucked something from his mother's hand and quickly rushed back to you while waving a ring pop. His face wreathed with nothing but a joyous grin

"Here, this is for you," he panted softly, offering you the reddish lollipop. "So we can make it official."

"Do you have one too?"

Anakin affirmed, his cheeks retaining a rosy hue. He fished another ring pop from his pocket and displayed it. "Of course I do. We are both getting engaged, remember? So we both need a ring."

Your mouth opened slightly, a sound of acknowledgment escaping you. "Okay.." you lisped as he gently slid the ring pop onto your little finger, before you reciprocated the gesture, placing the other on his finger.

Anakin popped the ring pop into his mouth and began to lave and suck on it, the sugar coating his tongue while the buzz of your pseudo-engagement added a delightful twist to the taste.

"Yours is strawberry..mine is apple," he said, extending the lollipop to you. "Wanna try?"

You sat there, sharing your ring pops and sampling each other's flavors. It was pure sweetness, both of candy and the innocence of the moment. "Should we kiss now?"

"And don't you do it when you get married?" you inquired

Anakin's cheeks flushed in response to the question, knowing that kissing was often associated with it. However, he hadn't experienced it for himself. The idea of kissing you stirred a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"Well... yeah, I think so..." he mumbled shyly

So with nervousness that mixed with excitement, you both leaned in, your youthful lips meeting in a shy and innocent kiss. However, after pulling away, your little faces contorted into exaggerated expressions of disgust.

"Ugh..."

"Eww--" you exclaimed, wiping your lips as if trying to erase the memory of the kiss.

Anakin, mirroring your action, wiped the back of his hand over his lips "Yeah... that was icky," he said. "We're never doing that again."

You nodded fervently "Never"

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you tutoring lessons from math since he knows you suck at it

Sweetheart!Anakin who never has stopped having the deepest crush on you and still held the ring pop in his nightstand

Sweetheart!Anakin who was absolutely pissed (at himself) and devastated after he found out you've got a boyfriend. And obviously he didn't like him at all. He hadn't even given him a chance from the beginning

Sweetheart!Anakin Who was there for you when your (ex)boyfriend acted like a piece of shit

Sweetheart!Anakin who made sure to appreciate you all the time after you two got together. Would buy/get you your favorite flowers, make sure to show you love through deed. Just do everything he dreamed of doing since the second grade

Sweetheart!Anakin who climbed to your window in the middle of the night just because you were grounded at haven't seen him in a long time;

You grumbled to yourself, irritated with the grounding that seemed utterly senseless to you. Laying on your back on the bed, you stared up at the ceiling, the silence in the room enveloping you like a heavy blanket.

Suddenly, a small knock sounded at the window, catching your attention. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than a bird or a raindrop. But soon, the knocking grew louder, its rhythm growing more urgent.

You sat up, wondering what could be making such a commotion. Climbing out of bed, you walked cautiously toward the window with your heart starting to race.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Anakin in the hood and you immediately opened the window "Ani?" you whispered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

With a gentle smile, he spoke softly, his voice barely overheard over the pitter-patter of the rain. "Missed you."

"i-are you out of your mind? It's dangerous" you whisper-yelled

"I'll be fine." Anakin said, holding tight on your window to not slip down your roof. "just had to see you."

"my dad will kill you--"

"He won't if you keep quiet." Anakin joked as he fully lifted his body through the window, now standing in your room. The floor got damp from his dripping clothes. With a soft huff, he pushed his soaked hair from his face, the strands plastered to his forehead.

The sight made you cross your arms and let out a small scoff "I can't believe you literally climbed up to my window."

Anakin let out a quiet chuckle and his eyes roamed over your figure before his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. He smirked as he quipped, "Wouldn't have done it if you weren't grounded, Rapunzel."

"That's not my fault."

With his arms encircling you completely, Anakin held you snuggly against his chest, the cold dampness of his shirt seeping through your clothes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle and tender gesture. "I know," he whispered with a smile "I missed you a lot tho"

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you eat his food, even though he has enough of your food-mood changes sometimes

Sweetheart!Anakin who's a true gentleman to you

Sweetheart!Anakin who's writing you love letters at least few times in a month. He enjoys every time pouring all of his emotions towards you on paper. There's something fulfilling in this, knowing he gives you a small testament of his love

Sweetheart!Anakin who often competed with you for fun in different categories. Of course with making sure you always lose. Would distract you on purpose while you two play Mario Kart or compete in baking

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you cuddle to him while he plays with his friends;

Your eyes followed Anakin diligently as he immersed himself in the game, his fingers dancing across the buttons and keys. Boredom slowly crept in, prompting you to set down your phone and shift toward him. With a quick movement, you silently crawled from the cozy bed and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, the clicky sound of his fingers against the controller filling your ears.

As you leaned in to press a soft kiss against the exposed skin of his neck, you could feel Anakin's fingers instantly freeze on the buttons. He paused his actions and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours.

A sly grin stretched across his lips "What's up?"

"m'bored" you mumbled

Anakin's grin only widened and he reached up to pull one of your arms over his head, spinning the computer chair around in a swift move. Caught off guard, you stumbled forward, falling onto his lap and straddling his legs on the plush seat. It gave him the perfect excuse to place his hands on your waist, shifting and adjusting your position to make you more comfortable

"Bored, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery.

"don't make fun of me" you pouted

"Can't help it when you make it so easy, doll" Anakin leaned back in the chair and adjusted his grip on your lower back. With a firm tug, he pulled you closer, pressing your body firmly against his chest and elicited a slight gasp of surprise from your lips.

However this small moment of shared eye contact quickly ended when his friends' voices echoed through his headphones, calling out for his attention in the game. He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to adjust his headset back over his head.

"Sorry, sorry..I'm back" he muttered into the microphone, his finger pressing down on the comm button.

He started playing again, fingers moving rapidly on the controller as he shifted in the chair. He held you close against his chest, almost like you were his own personal pillow. The only time his hands would stray from the controls are when he would rub soothing and soft circles on your hips or thighs, pressing kisses on the top of your head

Sweetheart!Anakin who spend ten years building your dream house; including everything you wanted

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you random drawings time to time. All he'd need is a piece of paper with even smaller pencil. Often he draw you, founding you as his muse;

"What are you doing?" you whispered in his ear, your arms wrapping around his neck from behind. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat of his blush against your lips.

He startled, breaking from his thoughts as he was pulled back to reality. He looked at you, a light flush spreading across his face. His pencil continued to move across the page, tracing lines on your face. "Just drawing you," he replied, his voice soft.

"oh? am i the muse?" You teased quietly

He smirked. "More than that. You're a living work of art" Anakin murmured sincerely

You chuckled softly, reaching for his sketchbook with curiosity. But he held it firm, not letting you sneak a peek just yet.

"Ah, ah, ah" he said, his voice a blend of sweetness and teasing. "Not until I'm done, hm?"

"i thought you've already finished"

"Well, I'm not done yet," he said, his focus going back to the sketch

You leaned in closer, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear. "Can I at least see some of your other drawings?"

Knowing that you won't stop asking, he sighed "Yeah, of course," he murmured, releasing his grasp on the sketchbook to hand it over. "I mostly draw people I find interesting... or beautiful," he confessed.

You gently took the sketchbook, leafing through the pages with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The sketches all featured you - smiling, holding flowers, against scenic backdrops...always you. As you flipped through the portraits, a frown tugged at your lips.

"But there's only me here," you said, glancing up at him.

"Well, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. So it only makes sense that you're the subject of my art..You're my muse, my love, the source of my inspiration," he paused, and looked at you with a teasing gaze. "am I not allowed to draw what's mine?"

You ignored his comment, going through the pages when a sketch caught your eye - a drawing of you posed as Aphrodite- naked

Anakin smirked, watching you admire his work. The detailed background resembled a scene from Greek mythology, the delicate strokes of the pencil bringing the image to life. "Well...?" he inquired, his gaze teasing. "What do you think?"

After stumbling over your words, the only thing you could manage to say was, "I'm naked here."

Anakin's smile widened as he responded with a hint of admiration. "Yes, you are. But then again, you're a goddess. Shouldn't a goddess be portrayed in all her glory, after all?" He chuckled softly and teased, "Besides, I've had plenty of time to memorize the view." To which you shot him a glare

He paused then, concern flickering in his eyes as he leaned in a bit. "Do you not like it?" he asked softly, searching your face for a response.

"No- I love it," you replied, your voice still a bit flustered. "I just... didn't expect to see myself portrayed as Aphrodite."

The corners of Anakin's lips curled back into a smirk, his voice getting lower and deeper now. "Well, you're beautiful enough to be one," he murmured. "And you're certainly enough of an inspiration for me to draw you in such a way."

Anakin leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed on yours, his smirk growing more mischievous. "And perhaps... I wanted to show you how beautiful you truly are, without all that fancy clothes you always wear."

You smacked his shoulder "Ani!"

Anakin chuckled at your reaction. "hey, I’m just being honest!" He grinned widely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "You can’t tell me you’re not beautiful. You’re the embodiment of beauty to me."

Sweetheart!Anakin who waited with sex till marriage. He just found it as something special and as much as he loved you, he wanted to have his first time during the wedding night;

"you're so beautiful..so so beautiful..couldn't take my eyes off of you..so pretty, Mrs. Skywalker" he pressed gentle kissed on your neck before pulling away to watch your expression

he moaned lowly at your twisting in pleasure face, his hips rolling against yours in slow, almost torturing, painful way "such a pretty sounds you make.."

all you could do was moan and mewl as his member stretched your tight core "a-ani" you desperately held onto his arms, probably even digging your nails to his skin out of such intense feeling

he shivered at you saying his name like that. His large hands squeezed your flesh, hoping he doesn't do this too roughly. He wanted this to be pleasurable for not only him, but especially you. But oh how he tried to keep his self-control in check.. "you're..so.. tight.." he murmured while his eyes followed every inch of your face "damnit, is it gonna sound weird if I say that I imagined this moment already?"

you could barely comprehend any given information; your brain was focused on one thing and it was deep inside of you. So to not leave him without a response, you shaked your head

"good.." he panted as his hand moved to caress your cheek, his eyes scanning your face and trying to memorize it in this very moment "been dreaming of this for so so long.." this time he groaned, pushing his length even deeper inside of you to reach this particular sweet spot "feels better than my imagination"

your lips parted to let out the prettiest whimper "oh gods, just look at you.. you're a masterpiece.." he breathed, his hand tracing down to squeeze your jingling breast "you'll be the death of me, you know that?"

he was completely lost in this moment, it was obvious that it was hard for him to keep a steady, slow pace as his body screamed for you. "please tell me I'm not dreaming .." he begged "can't believe i have you now..forever..gods, I would lie if i said it was easy to wait..but damn, you feel even better knowing that I've waited"

he was getting more and more worked up, his breath coming in pants. he had to remind himself to keep the pace slow for your sake, but it was, again, getting very hard for him to do so. his hands roamed down to your hips to hold you in place "i can't get enough of you..I'll never get enough of you.."

"how do you feel?.." he asked, a desperate hint in his voice like he had a goal to make you feel heaven "I'm not being too rough, am I?"

"no..just..can you go..faster?" your voice came out as rather nervous and shy. So many years together, almost an entire life and in such intimate concept, you still felt a little bit conscious. Maybe because it's this desired first time?

his breath hitched at your words and he let out a loud exhale. with no more to add he did as you requested; his hips starting to thrust faster, harder "oh kriff.." he moaned his body shuddering from the overwhelming sensation of finally being with you like this "oh kriff, you feel so good.." his head fell to the side

With his urgent moves, you felt yourself going crazy. Your eyes rolled from pleasure that enveloped your whole body, your hands almost falling from his arms "i--something's happening" you whimpered

"f-fuck.." he groaned lowly as he felt you tighten around him..hard. He was a mess; his lips parted and his eyes a bit unfocused "oh kriff..oh stars..oh kriff.." he repeated, his body slightly shivering and his muscles tensing up as he moved faster, almost desperately trying to bring himself and you over the edge

"i think I'm close ani--"

"kriff, I'm too..I don't think I'll last much longer" he groaned, his dick pulsing around your core "..not with you squeezing..around me like that.."

Sweetheart!Anakin Who turns into a small boy when he's sleepy;

"Hug me until I smell like you" he murmured, nuzzling to your chest

It was normal for Anakin to be sleepy but there were days where he was super sleepy. His eyes fighting to keep open, his hands aching to wrap around your waist, in desperate need to be close to you. So how could you refuse him this pleasure of small needs? Your hand tangled in his curls while you scrolled through the words in your book

"I want to kiss you a lot, you know?" His voice muffled against your chest

"yeah?" your lips curled into a small smile

"yeah..you're my sun, my moon and all my starts.." his face nuzzled even more to your body as if you were his pillow

Sweetheart!Anakin who learned how to cook for you. His hands in a mix of flour, eggs and just everything to call his mom in the middle of the happening disaster in both pot and oven, hoping she'd ease his fear of his end

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @fuckmyskywalker @kenmaiica

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[devildomwriter]

So This is Christmas | Lucifer x Reader

1.1K+ words | GN! Reader | CW: slightly suggestive toward the end

Home. A word that gave Lucifer an insurmountable amount of stress.

Home is where his brothers were wreaking havoc. Home is where you weren’t, because of family holiday traditions in the human world. Home is where his six greatest enemies lived and not a place he could quietly relax. And he desperately needed to relax.

Something had gone wrong with Santa again this year and the replacement wasn’t ready to take over. He didn’t see why it should be his issue but Diavolo entrusted the task to him so for a week he ran after Santa with a whip threatening everyone at the workshop and most of the toys weren’t even going to human kids as they were all very misbehaved.

Lucifer sighed as the house of lamentation came into sight and he was hit with a wave of dread. Thankfully it hadn’t burned down, there was a new hole but it’d been decently repaired and wasn’t an immediate concern, and there didn’t appear to be any water damage from Leviathan. All in all, this was a win and a very rare one.

Lucifer expected some kind of ambush walking through the doors, most likely from the Anti-Lucifer trio which was down to a duo with ___ gone. But what he got instead sent him into a state of shock.

He opened the doors and inside it was…beautiful. Beautiful in a way he was still becoming familiar with. It was decorated perfectly for Christmas and for the winter season.

Lights with pine wrapped around the railings, pictures on the wall were replaced with ones they’d taken from Christmas in previous years, the carpet was red and green and he could see a large tree in the dining room.

He grinned but remained alert. His brothers were suspiciously quiet which was never a good thing but when he saw why his concerns were through the roof.

There at the table sat his brothers smiling and welcoming him home.

Lucifer froze. “What. The. Hell. Did. You. Do.” He asked sternly and they shrunk in on themselves. Beelzebub remained unaffected as he was eating the turkey whole.

Asmodeus batted the back of his head and he let out a “hm,” and waved at Lucifer with a roll in his hand.

“Lucifer!” The most beautiful sound in the world to him graced his ears and he spun around to see you there in festive attire.

His heart melted and the anxiety completely melted away as you stood there, hands behind your back, innocently smiling at him.

“___,” he breathed and outstretched his arms as he walked to you. You met him halfway and embraced him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, delight in his voice. His immediate change in behavior annoyed his brothers but they were getting more used to it.

“I came to spread some holiday cheer. I heard what Diavolo made you do.” You explained and Lucifer sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbled and you nodded and took his hand, leading him to the large meal you’d helped set up.

You’d been on a video call with Mammom when you’d heard all hell break loose because Lucifer wasn’t there supervising. You saw the roof cave in and you knew there was no way you were letting it stay like that even an hour, not when Lucifer could get home any minute, it would absolutely ruin his holiday.

So, like the master you were, you ordered the brothers to repair the wall, stop fighting, and cook a nice meal while you used magic to decorate the house. But Lucifer didn’t need to know about all that drama. All he needed now was a nice meal, some drinks, and of course you.

And it was very clear what he wanted most was you. He moved your chair next to his at the table, leaving less than an inch of room between you as he cut your food for you and began spoon-feeding you with affection sparkling in his eyes.

Beelzebub nearly gagged on his food and the others were very clearly perturbed by the situation so ate more quickly than they normally would. A small fight broke out between Mammon and Beelzebub but Lucifer and you shot them a glare and that was all it took for Mammon to give up the turkey leg and let Beel have it.

Lucifer happily finished eating the human world food and set aside his plate for Leviathan to grab as it was his turn to clean the dishes.

Leviathan grumbled something about normies and took the plates and knives away.

“Did you like it?” You asked Lucifer giddily and he nodded and dabbed his chin with a napkin before wiping crumbs off your face. You never wiped your mouth after dinner because you knew Lucifer would do it for you and the small display of grooming filled you with happiness.

Sensing your delight with his small touch Lucifer got up from his chair and held his hand out for you to take.

“Will you accompany me tonight?” He asked you in a gentlemanly manner and you laughed and nodded while Mammon audibly gagged in the next room. This made Lucifer laugh as well and he swept you off your feet to carry you upstairs to his room.

“What would you like to do tonight?” You asked him and he smiled.

“Anything at all, as long as it’s with you.”

You were surprised by his more affectionate behavior than usual. Normally this question would’ve led to a mischievous gleam in his eyes and you panting beneath him on the bed. But now Lucifer was in an oddly blissful state of mind without ulterior motives, just love.

You tightened your grip around him as he carried you into his room and you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck as he smiled.

“I have the perfect thing,” he said as he sat you on his couch. He walked to the record player and pulled a vinyl from his stack that was green in color. “I got this a few weeks ago thinking you may enjoy it,” he admitted and let the record begin to play.

Softly the comforting sounds of Christmas music began to echo through his room as he smiled at you, very proud of himself.

You reached out for him, motioning him to come sit next to you. He didn’t need to be asked twice and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you as you nuzzled into his side to listen to the relaxing music.

Of course, once the music and gentle moment were over Lucifer’s blissful shock had worn off and he gave you a knowing playful grin that tempted you into his sheets that night.

If this is what Christmas brought about, he hoped it could last longer next year, and that you’d both have many more to follow.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Your Boat Card, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Rafe continues to make their Spring Break interesting with his bucket list item.

A/N: This was suggested by the lovely @mellillasstuff, who I love to talk about Drew Starkey with! I hope you like it, Babe. The gif is special for you.

Masterlist

They spent the day in Mykonos, Greece and now, the yacht is drifting to Turkey. Their last Spring break of their lives is coming to an end in a few days and Y/N and Rafe are trying to make the most of it. Rafe sees this trip as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a bucket list item for him. “Come on. Let me take your boat card, Angel,” he begs, walking over to her on the bed. She shakes her head with a giggle, “That isn’t a thing, Rafe. Plus, we literally had sex this morning on this boat, so if it was a thing, then you’ve already taken it.” “It’s not the same. It’s not boat sex unless it is on the top deck and out in the open,” Rafe argues. He jumps into bed with her, making the mattress bounce under both of them. Her hand finds his cheek, “What kind of weird fraternity shit are you making up, Rafe?” He kisses the palm of her hand. “It’s not a weird fraternity thing. It’s… it’s kinda a fantasy of mine. Making love to my angel under the stars in the middle of nowhere with the sound of the waves keeping us company. It’s just you and me.” She, of course, wants to help him achieve his fantasy and it honestly sounds so romantic, but she can’t shake the feeling of being caught by a crewmate.

“Rafe, as nice as that sounds, what if we get caught.”

“Don’t worry, Angel. We are the only ones on the boat. I got the crew to take a boat out to the land for the night. They’ll be back in the morning to take us to our next city. If you really don’t want to do it, then that’s okay but I just thought it would be fun.” 

“I’m a little scared for our safety that no one can take drive the yacht, but I think it would be really fun too. I hope you have a captain’s hat because you are about to take my boat card.”

———

Y/N’s fingers graze the bottom of her dress, taking confident steps up the stairs. “Captain, how much longer until we reach port?” she calls out as innocently as she can. Rafe looks over his shoulder at her with a captain’s hat on his head, “A few more hours, Ms. Y/L/N. Is there something I can help you with?” Her arms swing from in front of her to behind and she walks towards him. “That’s so long… I don’t know how I’m going to fix my problem,” she laments, bringing her hand to play with her hair. 

“Well, what’s your problem? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know… Captain. It’s kinda an intimate issue.”

“Come on, Angel. You can trust me. I’m the ship’s Captain.” 

Her hands move up his chest, meeting around his neck. She grows impatient with this game and starts to unbutton his white shirt. “You’re restless tonight, Angel,” Rafe chuckles, bringing his hand to rest on her bum. She nods, “Very, something about that hat is doing something to me.” “Wow. Never thought my angel would be turned on by a man in uniform,” he teases. His hand moves up her bum to untie the bow of her dress while she begins peppering his bare chest with kisses. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her back from his skin. They look at each other with a grin. “I can’t keep playing this game anymore, Captain. I just need to feel you,” she mutters. He brings his lips to hers and pulls her dress off of her body, “Me either.” Once the cool ocean breeze meets her skin, Rafe walks her backwards toward the couch. The back of her knee meets the cool leather and she lies down with him on top of her. 

He kisses her on the lips, moving his hand down the valley of her breast to the top of her underwear. He grins to himself when he sees the moon glint off of his Greek letters that have been resting between her boobs since their sophomore year. A finger delicately lifts the fabric and continues its descent until it meets the wetness of her pussy. “Is this all for Captain Rafe, Angel?” She nods her head, itching for him to keep going. “Nuh-uh. Angel, you know I like it when you use words,” he tsks and removes his hand from where she needs it. 

“Captain, please. Touch me,” she begs, grabbing his wrist to bring his touch back. He growls at her words, “Enough of this Captain shit. I want you to be screaming my name to the sea, Angel.” He takes the bill of his hand in his hand and throws it somewhere on the deck without another thought. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t have a nickname for him. It wasn’t for lack of trying when they first started to date. Rafe is so possessive of her that the thought of her calling him anything other than his name drives him to become the green-eyed monster. He pulls down her underwear and throws it with his hat, getting to work on making her feel good. His head buries between her legs, lapping up the mess he created. “Oh god, Rafe. This feels so good,” she moans at her normal level. Rafe always encouraged her to be as loud as possible, teaching her to not care about the other frat brothers, who might hear her sweet melody.

“Angel, you can be louder. There is no one around,” he reasons. She listens to his words and screams as loud as she can to please him. His mouth works on her clit as his fingers enter her hole. They curl to hit her G-spot and she tugs at his hair to get him to keep going. He quickly moves his fingers in and out of her. With every move of his finger, it brings her closer to her orgasm. Her fingers pull at the root of his hair and that’s how he knows she is about to cum. He pulls his fingers out of her, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Nope. Sorry, Angel. You are coming around my dick tonight,” he informs.

He stands up to pull off his shirt and his hand removes his belt in one fluid motion, which always makes Y/N’s thighs clench together. She sits up to help him take off the rest of his clothes and he lets her. She sinks to her knees in front of him, butt hitting the couch cushion. Her hands begin to pump his length. Saliva pools in her mouth, so she can spit it onto his dick. She slides her hand up and down his dick, listening to his groans. “You are doing so good, Angel,” he praises. His hand finds the back of her head and pushes her onto him. She takes him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. A hand remains at the base to pump what isn’t going in her mouth. She pulls herself off of him, so she can circle her tongue around his tip. She can taste his pre-cum. He decides he is hard enough for her and brings her back up so she is facing him. He lies her down on the couch again, kissing her lips. The mixture of their juices makes both of them want to moan. 

She watches as he brings a hand down to his cock to bring the tip to her vagina. He enters her inch by inch to let her have time to adjust. He has no more to offer her and waits for her to tell him to begin his thrust. “Please start, Rafe,” she states, bringing her forehead to his. His hips move back so just the tip is still inside of her and then eases them back down to meet the top of her pelvic bone. They normally like their sex fast and hard, but the moment felt right for something slower. He repeats the motion, enjoying the way her arms round his back to mark it up.

She may be his angel, but she has nails like the devil. He can feel the dig of her nails as she drags it down his back in an attempt to bring him closer. Being chest-to-chest with him doesn’t feel like enough to her, so she rounds her legs around his waist and helps meet his thrusts. It feels like the sounds of the skin slapping against each other and their groans echo out to the sea, yet she knows it is all in her head. She brings his hips in faster during his next thrust with her feet. He gets the message and deepens his thrust, feeling the way she begins to cling to him as she does. With her walls squeezing him, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Determined to make her climax first, he brings his hand down to her bud and starts to rub it in a circle. Y/N’s orgasm washes over her with his help. The feeling of her cumming around him causes him to twitch his seeds into her. He continues his gentle thrusts to ride out their high, stilling once they are both done. 

He slips out of her and lies beside her. She turns to face him, bringing his arms over her. He tightens his hold on her and gives her a kiss to the temple. “I don’t think roleplay is for us,” he observes, thinking back to how they didn’t last very long in the charade. She giggles with a nod of her head, “Yeah. I’m too impatient and you are too possessive to let me call you anything else other than your name. But I’m glad you convinced me to do this. I enjoyed giving each other our boat cards.” 

“I hate to have to tell you this, Angel. But I don’t have my boat card.” 

“Wait, if I’m not taking your boat card, does that mean you’ve done this before?”

“I’m from the Outer Banks, Angel. What do you think?

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[relicsongmel]

Currently losing my mind thinking about how badly Maya wanted to save Miles in Turnabout Goodbyes.

How she, despite (mostly) only knowing Miles as the asshole he is in AA1, recognized that he's important to Phoenix and did everything she could to help him without question or complaint.

How she tried as hard as she could to channel Mia and ask for her guidance, and beat herself up endlessly lamented neglecting her training when she struggled to reach her spirit.

How she interrupted the judge's verdict on the first trial day to call Lotta's testimony into question, and got thrown into contempt of court as a result, taking full responsibility for her outburst and insisting Phoenix not be punished for it.

How she enthusiastically pursued any and all leads during the investigation to find the clues that could help Miles be found innocent, even if they seemed meaningless (re: the Gourdy escapade).

How her first instinct upon being threatened by a taser-wielding Manfred was not to run, but to JUMP ON HIM and snatch the evidence he was carrying.

How she was the one to make the connection between Phoenix's theory that the DL-6 murderer had been shot, and Grossberg's comment that Manfred had taken a vacation after DL-6, and immediately shared her realization with Phoenix.

How the bullet she stole ended up being the decisive evidence needed to declare Miles not guilty.

How Miles would have been declared guilty on several occasions if not for many of these actions.

How even despite all this she STILL claimed she was basically useless and resolved to return to her village for training so she doesn't have to feel like a burden to Phoenix.

All for a man who once tried to have both her AND her best friend found guilty of murder.

Maya Fey is the MVP of Turnabout Goodbyes and I WILL NOT STAND FOR ANYONE SAYING SHE ISN'T I love her so fucking much

[temis-de-leon]

One bed - 500 F.C.

Characters: Solomon x gn!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: Romance anon

CW: the bed is third-wheeling in this one. Secret relationship and ✨communication✨, mushy af. Mammon is not jealous, he's just the most annoying older brother ever.

.

Mammon’s indignant screeches followed them well after they separated from the group on their way to the room, echoing in the emptiness of the hallways and remaining even when they closed the door; muffled and incomprehensible, but still audible.

“Does he think we’re dating?”

Hearing his words, MC immediately looked at the sorcerer, who was placing his bag on the bed and eyeing the sheer size of the mattress with great interest. It occupied half of the room, almost as ridiculous as Lucifer’s back in the House of Lamentation.

“Would he be wrong in thinking that?”

He smiled sheepishly in return, scratching the back of his neck in a poor attempt at trying to hide the obvious blush on his cheeks. He watched as his beloved fellow human slowly walked towards him, hands behind their back and an innocent sway in their strides.

They enjoyed the way his eyes lingered on their body and he perfectly knew it, which was the reason why he didn’t bother hiding it.

“How could he not?” MC added, letting their hands drag over his chest before hugging his neck. “Just by the way you’re looking at me, I’m surprised no one has said anything yet”

Solomon chuckled, hugging them back and closing the distance between them. Their lips were touching, but not enough to properly kiss, and when MC tried to do just that, he leaned back a little and softly laughed again.

“What can I say? You’re irresistible”

“Flatterer”

“I’d rather call myself an honest man”

They opened their mouth to reply, but he effectively shut them up with a quick kiss, staying only for a short few seconds before turning around and rummaging through his bag like nothing happened.

Dumbfounded, still dizzy after his brief affection, MC stood with a pout before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Well, now you’re looking at me like you want everyone to know” he said at their silence, trying to appear nonchalant despite his curious eyes.

His hidden words were clear. Did they want to go public? Their secret relationship had been fun for a while, hanging out behind everyone’s backs, stealing kisses in the dark and subtly throwing flirtatious remarks under a façade of friendship, but maybe it was time to end the game and start the real thing.

And it wasn’t like MC was embarrassed about being with him; on the contrary, they were thrilled and over the moon. They couldn’t wait to hold his hand in front of whoever would watch, go on dates without worrying about their surroundings and spend the night at Purgatory Hall without lying about the reason.

Were they ready, though? Were they ready to look him in the eye and profess their love in front of all of their friends? MC’s found family?

“You know there’s no hurry, right?”

Solomon was smiling with fondness, but MC could see his slight and almost imperceptible disappointment. They walked towards each other again, like magnets, and stayed face to face in the middle of the room. In a certain way, it looked like a wedding ceremony.

Their heartbeat increased at the thought.

“We can keep this the way it has been for another while” he continued speaking, voice soft as a murmur while he cradled their face. “As long as I’m with you, I’m okay with it”

“Such an honest man you are” they replied with no bite, caressing his skin back at his confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Sol…”

They sat again, this time bringing him with them, and grabbed his hands without breaking eye contact.

“I want to make this official as much as you do, I’m just afraid” then continued speaking before letting him intervene. “What if this changes once everyone knows?”

“In what way, change?”

“I don’t know…” MC averted their eyes, wondering what they could say so he would understand them, but no words came to mind. Suddenly, they felt embarrassed, blushing in self-consciousness under his watchful gaze. “Maybe the brothers will spoil our dates or keep me inside the house so I can’t see you! You know how they are!”

“Oh, I certainly do” he laughed, raising his arm as an invitation for a hug. MC wasted no time in scooting closer, letting their head rest on his shoulder and smiling in contentment when he kissed their temple. “Listen, okay? I assure you, I’ll curse all of them if they ever attempt any of those things”

“Lucifer would probably curse you back”

“Lucifer knows me enough not to try”

They hummed, not knowing what to answer to the sternness in his voice. Despite that, Solomon’s touch was gentle and caring and, if they stayed like that for longer, it would make MC fall asleep.

“It’s your choice, MC” he whispered, tilting his head to get closer.

Still speechless, drowsy and drunk in love, MC craned their neck and kissed him with all the warmth they could muster. He let out a sound in return, not a whine or a moan, but something similar. They could feel his fingers tightening his grip around their arm, pulling them even closer and turning them so he could lay them on the bed.

Just then, having the preciseness of a Swiss clock, the door opened and crashed against the wall behind it. The noise pulled Solomon and MC away from each other and made them stare both in amazement and irritation as Mammon screeched like a banshee while pointing at them with disgust and horror on his face.

“ONE BED...! KISSING! THEY'RE KISSING!! WHY…? GET OFF THEM, YOU SHADY SORCERER! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The rest of the brothers’ voices, as well as the prince’s, his butler’s and the angels’, came closer and closer.

It was like being trapped under the threat of a tsunami, except a tsunami would be preferable in this particular case.

“Then again, maybe, it’s our luck the one who decides our fates, my love”

MC smiled at Solomon’s playfulness, which only increased when Mammon sat down to catch his breath so he could keep screaming.

“Then so be it”

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion

[luveline]

For the blurbs, could you do something fluffy and sweet with Sirius? Maybe something involving the chillier weather now? I’m obsessed with the way you write him <3

ty for requesting lovely <3

"Sweetheart," Sirius says. It doesn't surprise you that he's talking to Remus rather than you, handing over a cup of hot chocolate from his tray. "Darling," he continues, passing a second to Marlene. "Gorgeous," —and finally your boyfriend addresses you— "watch the sides, my lovely, it's hot." 

You'd guessed it would be, but his warning warms your heart nonetheless. "Thank you," you say, imbuing your word with as much softness as they allow. 

Sirius isn't easily flustered but you've been practising. He sits down beside you with his own hot chocolate and takes a quick sip, his cheeks tinged a rosy hue. Call it revenge, teasing, mostly affection, it's nice to get him back. He hasn't noticed what you're doing yet, but it won't be long. You're laying it on thick. 

You've gathered outside to cheer James on. It's one of the last rugby games of the season, and he plays exceptionally well, a blur of lean muscle and ink-black curls where he stretches between halves. 

"He's bulking up, isn't he?" Marlene asks, impressed. 

"He's fucking ridiculous," Remus says. "I'm sick of making him fried eggs. That's all I do. Remus, will you make me an egg, please? No one makes them like you do, I'll love you forever." He groans. "Between that and his grass stains, I'm genuinely his husband." 

"You're a handsome couple," Sirius says. 

You lean into his side gently. "Not as handsome as us," you murmur. You give him a wide-eyed, innocent look, your smile small but effective. 

His heart visibly melts. "No one's as handsome as us," he says, nudging you with his elbow. "Are you warm enough?" 

"My nose is cold." 

He brings his hand up to feel for himself with the back of a knuckle, wincing at what he finds. "You're like ice," he laments, pulling the scarf from around his neck. 

"Oh, Siri–" He wraps it around you. "Don't." 

He grins at you as he covers the bottom half of your face with his scarf, soft wool kissing your nose. Your breath warms your nose. "How will I drink my hot chocolate?" you ask. 

"I'll pull the scarf down, you can take a quick sip, and then I'll pull it back up," he suggests. "Or I'll drink it for you." 

You drop your face into his shoulder. It's admittedly extremely cold out for late October, almost a January chill, but you try not to complain. After all, James is running about in his uniform looking chipper. Someone throws him a ball and he jumps to catch it like a show off. 

"That's so unnecessary," Sirius says, his hair tickling your forehead as he leans his head atop yours. 

"He's amazing, surviving the cold weather like this." You find Sirius' hand tucked in his pocket and cover it with yours, your palm to the back of his, rubbing a tender little line into his thumb. 

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. 

"Why wouldn't I be okay, sweetheart?" 

Sirius coughs. "No reason. Still cold?" 

"A little. Can you warm me up, please?" 

You've mastered the art of softness at this point, just a pinch of pathetic. It actually, secretly, feels very nice to speak to him like this, and to ask for a soft touch in return, knowing he'll give it to you. He puts his hot chocolate on the bench and wraps you up, pulling you into his side. He has ample room to run some warmth into your arm, the heat of the friction slowly seeping through your sleeves. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed, for your ears alone. "We can go if it's too cold, James will understand."

You feel bad for messing with him now, but part of you admits that it wasn't messing at all. "Just love you, Sirius. I don't need to go anywhere." 

"Oh. Alright." He sounds a tad breathless. "I love you, too." 

"I know. I'm very, very lucky." 

He pinches your side for that one. "Stop it." 

[mrmeowski]

˚✦𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭✦˚

Synopsis: It was a simple question—in your eyes at least, but apparently not for him. He took it personally and it went quickly out of hand. Now you have to face the consequences of him taking it to heart rather than answering it like a normal person then again, he never was normal.

CW: Suggestive

Pairing/s: Solomon x GN.Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

It had been an exceptionally demanding day for Solomon, filled with myriad responsibilities and arcane studies. As the evening descended, casting an ethereal glow over the House of Lamentation, he found himself longing for your comforting presence. Yet, as he strolled past the imposing structure, your familiar figure was conspicuously absent. He sighed, a twinge of disappointment shadowing his features. Perhaps you had returned to Cocytus Hall earlier than usual, and he had just missed you. Deviating from his customary path, he meandered alone beneath the silvery moonlight, its gentle illumination guiding his steps.

The ancient door of Cocytus Hall groaned in protest as he pushed it open, the sound reverberating through the timeworn corridors. This grand, desolate place was home to only the two of you, and in truth, he preferred it that way. It meant he could savor your company without interruption, a rare and cherished luxury.

"[Name]..?" He called out, his voice resonating in the stillness as he shrugged off his coat, draping it over his arm.

The dynamics between the two of you often brought to mind a couple deeply intertwined, bound by an unspoken understanding and shared moments. The mere thought of it painted a tender smile across his lips, igniting a spark of hope that one day, he might place a ring on your finger, solidifying the bond you already shared.

"Sol, I'm in here!" Your voice echoed from the depths of the hallways, originating from the direction of your room.

Guided by your call, he navigated through the labyrinthine passageways until he reached your door. He paused momentarily, savoring the anticipation before gently pushing it open. There you were, a vision of comfort and familiarity, enveloped in a serene atmosphere that instantly put him at ease.

"Long day?" You asked, your eyes reflecting concern and warmth as you looked up from your book.

He nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, "You could say that. But seeing you make it all worthwhile." You smiled, patting the space beside you on the bed.

"Come, sit with me. I have a favor to ask of you." He settled down next to you, his cheek gently resting on your shoulder.

The warmth of his presence was comforting, a familiar solace after a long day.

"What is it..?" He inquired softly, his curiosity piqued.

Taking a deep breath, you could hardly contain your excitement.

"While I was out today, I heard a song... It caught my attention," you began, trying to stifle a laugh. "I can't remember the lyrics—it was barely audible—but I do know the tune." His eyes met yours, intrigued.

"Why not hum it to me? I might recognize the song." You grinned, knowing you had him hooked.

"Alright, but I need to warm up my vocals first, I don't want to mess this up!" His laughter was light and carefree, his gaze tracing the contours of your face, cherishing every feature. To him, you were perfect, imperfections and all.

After a mock preparation, you began, "It goes like this... nanana naaa na na, nanana naaa na na." Even without looking, you could sense the swift change in his demeanor, his smile faltering.

The tune was unmistakable—a song he'd encountered numerous times but preferred not to speak of.

He sighed deeply, standing up. But you weren't about to let him escape so easily. You followed him, singing playfully, "Don't you dare walk away and desert meee... Come back hereee, you sorcereeer." He turned to face you, your innocent smile meeting his exasperated expression.

"Happy now?" He asked his tone a mix of resignation and amusement. You nodded enthusiastically. "Well, that makes one of us. You know.. I'm this close to cursing you!" He warned, lifting his hand, his fingers forming an 'o' sign with the thumb and index finger almost touching.

You gasped theatrically, placing a hand over your heart in mock shock, "You don't mean it, do you?"

"Hmph!" He huffed, turning on his heel and striding purposefully down the hallway toward the living room.

"Hey now! Don't tell me you're that upset!" you called after him, laughter bubbling up. "Come ooon, you should have seen it coming! It is the day, y'know?" You paused by the doorway of the library, arms crossed as you watched him glance back at you, confusion flickering in his eyes.

"'The day'? What are you talking about?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled, until realization dawned on him. "Ah... I see. July 27th, the... song's release." He spat out the word 'song' as if it had personally offended him and his entire bloodline.

"Bingo!" You exclaimed, grinning widely.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Sometimes you're so childish... and cringeworthy." He turned away once more, heading deeper into the library.

"Excuse me?! Now, I might accept the latter, but... childish? Really now?! I'm not the one getting all worked up over a harmless prank, a joke, whatever you want to call it!" You threw your arms up in exasperation.

"Well, I'm glad you're at least self-aware." He pulled a random book from the decaying bookshelf and plopped down onto one of the dusty couches, a cloud of dust rising as he sat.

"Hey, don't just ignore the rest!" You marched over, standing in front of him with a huff. One glance at the book cover made you scoff as you sat down beside him. "So you're just going to ignore me now?"

Silence.

He stared blankly at the book, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.

"Well, fine then." You turned away, casting a quick sideways glance at him before adding, "Oh, and by the way... the book's upside down." He blinked a few times as if snapping out of a trance.

"Ahem..." He coughed, hurriedly adjusting the book to the correct orientation.

The silence stretched on, an unspoken tension lingering between you. He occasionally flipped a page, but you doubted he was truly reading. The stillness was becoming unbearable, and with a resigned sigh, you turned to him.

"You know what, fine! I'm sorry, Sol." The words felt strange on your tongue.

Apologizing for such a harmless prank seemed ridiculous, especially when he, of all people, was the one acting childish. He glanced at you briefly before his gaze returned to the book.

"That's not enough," he said, his voice cold and cutting.

It was a tone you had rarely heard from him, one he usually reserved for when he was truly angry. For a moment, you were taken aback. The seriousness in his voice made you laugh nervously. Either he was genuinely upset, or he was being overly dramatic, which he had a penchant for.

"Not enough, huh?" You remarked, crossing one leg over the other. "Then what exactly do you want?" He grinned mischievously, closing the ancient, decrepit book and resting it on his lap.

"I want to cook for you."

"What..?" You blinked, unable to mask the horror in your voice.

His culinary skills were practically a biohazard. A single bite will send you to meet your maker.

"I said I want to cook for you," He repeated, his smile disarmingly innocent. "Lately, you've been avoiding my offers! Always suggesting eating out or claiming you're 'full'. It hurts me, you know... I just want to do something nice for my charming apprentice, hmm?"

"No!" You blurted out, recoiling at the thought.

"Hm..?" His smile faltered slightly, and you hurriedly continued, trying to salvage the situation.

"I-I mean... you could think of something else! Like... um... I'll do anything you desire! Just not involving the brothers or your cooking!" You were desperate to avoid his culinary experiments. "I just.. d-don't want to add to your workload. You've already had such busy days, and now you want to cook instead of resting?" He hummed thoughtfully, mulling over the idea.

"Even on the harshest of days, I'd do anything for you... but your suggestion," he said with a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "When you say anything, do you truly mean it?" You nodded earnestly.

"Yes! No matter how ridiculous it is—just don't involve the brothers." He tapped a finger to his chin, pondering your words. "So, deal or no deal?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he met your gaze.

"Deal," he replied, his tone filled with playful promise. "But remember, you agreed to anything."

"Yeah, uh-huh. So how will you abuse this newfound 'power' of yours, hmm?" You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit uneasy, and starting to regret your decision.

He hummed thoughtfully, "There are so many things I desire you to do..." His voice had dropped to a lower, more suggestive tone, and his eyes roamed over you in a way that made you squirm. "But I guess... first, you should probably text everyone that you're sick today and won't be able to come out. After all, I don't want anyone bothering us..." Your brows furrowed at his suggestion.

"When you say everyone, that includes the brothers and the demon prince," you sighed. "I told you, they're excluded!"

"Ah, but I only speak of possible plans... not directly involving them," he teased, a sly smile playing on his lips.

"Still! It's about—"

"If you're not going to do it, then we shall revert to plan A. You know... I have so many dishes I want you to try!" He smiled innocently, seemingly unaware of how your skin paled at the thought.

"Haha! Of course, I'll do it!" You exclaimed, laughing nervously.

His smile widened, clearly pleased. "Good. Now, let's get started with our day."

You quickly pulled out your D.D.D. and sent a message to everyone, claiming you were feeling unwell and needed to rest. The replies came in swiftly, full of concern and well-wishes, but you barely registered them.

"Alright, done," you said, putting the D.D.D. away. "So, what's next on your agenda, oh master of mischief?"

"That nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, doesn't it? I would've loved it if not for the last few words." The he old book slipping off his lap as he shifted his body towards you, hovering over you with predatory grace. A hand moved to your cheek, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down to your jawline. "Mind removing the extra words? I'd love to hear it more... in our room." Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestive tone in his voice, and you felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

"Solomo—"

"Solomon?" He swiftly cut you off. "Didn't I tell you to call me something else?" You gulped hard.

You had only ever heard the brothers call you this, but actually saying it yourself... You had no choice; it was either this or certain death.

"You really love to tease me... m-master..." Your voice grew softer with each word, barely above a whisper.

"I don't think I heard you, my dear apprentice," he said, his tone insistent yet gentle.

You swallowed again, nerves getting the better of you.

"You really love to tease me, master," you repeated, louder this time, the word feeling foreign yet thrilling on your tongue.

"That's better...~" He purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Now, let's take this to our room, shall we?"

Once in your shared room, he gently laid you down on the soft mattress, still hovering above you. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke in a low, intimate tone. "I've been waiting for this moment," he murmured, his lips trailing a line of kisses along your neck. "To have you all to myself."

You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

"I never knew you had such a side to you..." You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his voice husky with desire. "But we have all the time in the world to explore."

Sorry for this dumpster fire

Request» Masterlist»

*•.𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.•*

[ellecdc]

i need more chef!sirius and mixologist!reader

I BEG

i love them so much i wanna cry they are so precious

I love them so much too!!

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who meets Harry [792 words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: Sirius' reputation does precede him, but it apparently doesn't work

“Please, Uncle Pads!” You hear someone beg as you let the door to the restaurant fall closed behind you. “Yeah! Please?” Another voice echoed. 

“Absolutely not.” The unmistakably gruff voice of your favourite chef responded. 

“Dad said you used to be cool, Padfoot, whatever happened to that?” The first voice - one that apparently belonged to a messy haired kid with round glasses as he smirked up at Sirius - accused, and you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you at the threatening glare Sirius levelled the kid with effectively alerting your presence to the three individuals leaning against your bar. 

“Whoever said he was cool is a liar, we all know he’s actually a giant swat.” You taunted as you breezed past the trio, gently allowing your elbow to brush against Sirius’ arm as you dumped your belongings onto the shelf below the bar. 

“I’ve not heard that one before…” The lanky red-headed kid mused as he narrowed his eyes in thought. “I have heard rumours of him being a giant arseho-”

“That’s quite enough out of you, Weasley.” Sirius barked. 

“Weasley? Like-”

“Yes, like Charlie. Christ, there’s so many of them.” Sirius muttered as he rubbed harshly at his eyes. 

“What exactly are the two of you begging for?” You asked with a chuckle, forcing Sirius to lift his elbow off the bar so you could wipe it down. “Because in my experience, referring to someone as an arsehole doesn’t usually get me what I want.” 

The red-head - a Weasley - seemed to blanche at the realisation before turning his petrified face back to Sirius. “I- I didn’t call you an arsehole! I, well, you see, I was only saying-”

“Relax, mate; you’re turning green.” The messy haired kid laughed as he pat his friend roughly on the back. “We’ve only heard on good authority that you are a giant arsehole.”

“And yet you’re still here asking me for a job?” Sirius deadpanned. 

“Right.” The messy haired kid agreed with a goofy smile on his face. “The names Harry,” he continued, moving his attention to you and offering you his hand, “this is my best mate, Ron; who also happens to be Charlie’s brother.” 

You laughed as you let Harry’s hand drop, accepting a nervous smile and wave from Ron. “How old are you kids?”

“Fifteen!” They chorused proudly, causing Sirius to grumble. 

“It hardly counts, Haz; you only turned fifteen like 72 hours ago.”

“Oh! Happy belated birthday!” You offered, causing Sirius to groan again. 

“Well I had asked for a job 71 hours ago as my birthday present, but my godfather left me rather disappointed.” Harry lamented, offering you what you were certain was his best kicked puppy expression. 

You scoffed in disbelief as you levelled Sirius with a good natured glare. “Have you no heart, Padfoot?” 

“Yeah, Padfoot?” The boys chorused comically. 

“That’s chef.” Sirius barked, turning back to you in exasperation when you corrected yourself.

“Not you.” He corrected.

“What am I supposed to call you then?” You asked with faux innocence. 

“Oh you’ll be calling me something when I get my hands on you later tonight.” He grumbled under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear as Harry considered the two of you.  

“You know, Pads, I’ve heard romantic interests find it very attractive when you’re nice to your godson.”

Sirius simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his godson in response.

“What? It’s true!” Harry insisted.

“Is it?” Sirius drawled. “You know a lot about getting your romantic interests attention, do you? ‘Cause I’m quite sure Malfoy’s not spared you a glance all year.”

You watched as Harry scowled at Sirius and Ron let out a bark of laughter at his friends expense. 

“What’s the harm? I thought you were looking for more busboys?” You asked Sirius quietly then, feeling your stomach flip as his face softened as he turned to consider you.

“But they’re so annoying.” He whimpered, almost pathetic enough to believe that he didn’t actually love that about them.

“Perfect; that’s two more people to help you send Jeffery into an early retirement.” You whispered back, nudging him with your shoulder as he let out a desperate sound from the back of his throat.

“Fine.” Sirius said, though you could hardly hear it on account of the celebratory cheer from Harry and Ron.

“But,” Sirius continued severely, “you’ll both be reporting to Charlie.”

“What!?” Ron whined as Harry’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “But he’s such a wanker!”

“Tough.” Sirius gruffed, standing from the stool he’d been leaning against and disappearing into the kitchen, though not before he gave your wrist an affectionate squeeze. 

“Blimey, he really is a giant arsehole.” Ron muttered.

That time you couldn’t hold in your laughter.