#lol what is green leaning on?? who knows

[kashmimo]

Something fun I drew for myself today since its my birthday :>

(If you visit my twtr today u can even pop some balloons hahaha)

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: (lil backstory) you and Rafe have been a couple since day one and are pretty closed off but a new bombshell has come and chose Rafe for a date and now it’s time for her to choose who she wants to couple up with.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,070

A/n: Inspired by the whole ordeal between rob liv and leah in love island usa lol SECOND PART IS HERE

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

The villa was buzzing with the usual pre-recoupling jitters, and as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup, you heard Rafe’s voice echo down the hallway. “Babe,” he called out, his tone relaxed yet filled with that casual affection you’d grown to love. “Yeah, I’m in here!” you responded, smiling to yourself.

Through the mirror, you caught the familiar image of him entering, his sandy-blonde hair tousled, sun-kissed skin accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the edges of his mouth softened into a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer and bending down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make you feel like he was truly checking in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a playful glint. He watched your reflection intently, as if trying to read your every expression.

“Just making sure,” he murmured, pulling a chair up beside yours. He settled in, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he watched you apply the last bit of powder. You raised an eyebrow, feigning a casual tone. “Why? Should I be worried? Is there something you’re not telling me about your date with Kayla?” You smirked, trying to keep it light, but deep down, you were fishing for any reassurance you could get.

His hand found its way to your thigh, his grip warm and reassuring as his thumb brushed soothing circles. “No, of course not,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I told you everything, and, honestly, I don’t think she’ll pick me. We don’t have that spark—you and I do, though, yeah?” His eyes held yours, his expression open and genuine.

His gaze was steady, his smile reassuring, and despite the flicker of insecurity, you let out a slow breath, his words sinking in and soothing the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. “Okay,” you said finally, a genuine smile breaking through as he chuckled.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses along your bare shoulder making you giggle, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that he seemed to crave as he pulled back, grinning. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asked, scanning the room with an approving gaze as his eyes landed on the green dress you’d laid out on the armchair nearby.

“That one.” You nodded toward the dress, and he hummed, his smile widening in approval. “Good choice. It’s gonna drive the others crazy.” “Glad you think so,” you replied, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you noticed the way he looked at you—like you were the only person who existed.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready,” he said, standing up and moving behind you. Through the mirror, you caught yourself staring. How could you not when Rafe looked so... edible. He met your gaze in the mirror, catching your look, and smirked. “Like what you see, Mrs. Cameron?” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, almost dangerous tone that made you laugh.

“Very much,” you replied, tilting your head back as he leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss that was both soft and full of promise, a reminder of the bond that the two of you had since day one. But before things could get too heated, you gently placed a hand on his jaw, pushing him back with a giggle.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he said, chuckling as he stepped back. Before he could leave, the door opened, and you both turned to see Kayla enter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Rafe. “Hey,” Rafe greeted her casually, his tone polite but distant. You watched them exchange brief smiles before looking away, busying yourself with your lip gloss as Kayla approached her drawers.

“Hey, Y/n,” she greeted you brightly, her tone friendly as she settled beside you. “Hey,” you replied with a polite smile. “Excited for tonight?” “Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m so ready to sleep next to someone again; it’s been way too long.” She giggled, and you chuckled in response, keeping the mood light even as you fought off a pang of unease.

“Do you know who you’re choosing?” you asked, carefully applying your lip gloss as she fiddled with something in her drawer. She nodded confidently, her fingers tapping lightly as she glanced at you with a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. I knew who I was gonna pick the second I walked in here.”

You nodded, hoping your expression didn’t betray the subtle tightening in your chest. It was in these little moments that the villa’s intensity hit, the constant swirl of emotions and unspoken fears. But as you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, you reminded yourself of the quiet confidence in Rafe’s words, of the unspoken bond you’d built.

~

The night air felt thick with tension as everyone gathered around the firepit, the familiar crackling flames casting flickering shadows across the group. You sat beside Rafe, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. The warmth of his touch had been a quiet comfort, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along your skin—a small reassurance that whatever happened tonight, he was there.

But as Kayla’s voice broke through the murmur of anticipation, her words twisted the air around you, each one slicing deeper than the last. "I'm coupling up with this person because, from the moment we started talking, I definitely sensed that we had potential and that there was a spark there that I want to explore," Kayla said, her tone confident and unwavering as her gaze locked on the group.

Your eyes dropped to the flames, heart pounding, silently willing her words to be about someone else. When she finally spoke his name, “The person I want to couple up with is… Rafe,” the world seemed to freeze. Your breath hitched, and a wave of shock washed over you, cold and biting, despite the warmth of the firepit. Around you, a few gasps broke the silence, the girls’ faces mirroring the same surprise that you felt.

Your eyes darted to Kayla, disbelief clouding your expression, and then turned to Rafe, who sat motionless beside you, his face an unreadable mask as he stared blankly at the ground. “Really? Nothing to worry about?” you said, your voice low but sharp, brushing his arm off your shoulder. Anger surged through you, raw and uncontainable. You’d trusted him, taken his reassurances at face value.

And now, every promise felt like it had shattered between you. Rafe’s shoulders slumped slightly as he raked a hand through his hair, a long sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Rafe, you look surprised at Kayla's decision,” the host, Sophie commented , looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, his gaze finally flickering up to meet Kayla’s. “Yeah, uh—I don’t know what to say, really,” he mumbled, the frown deepening across his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t really interested,” he shrugged, but his words felt hollow to you, hanging in the tense air between him and Kayla. Kayla’s eyes flashed with indignation, and she crossed her arms, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Wow, yeah—that’s not how I felt during our date,” she said with a pointed look, and you felt a pang of betrayal twist in your stomach as her words settled over you.

The whole night, the small reassurances Rafe had given you, the gestures, the closeness—it all felt tainted. Sophie's voice cuts through, pulling you from the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Well, Kayla, if you could switch places with Y/n… and Y/n, if you could come stand beside me.” Standing, you avoided looking at Rafe or Kayla, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You forced yourself to breathe as you stepped away from the firepit, feeling the collective gaze of the group on you. “Y/n, you are now single, which leaves you vulnerable here on Love Island,” Sophie announced. You nodded slowly, your jaw tight as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately holding back the flood of emotions welling inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe looking anywhere but at you, his gaze flickering across the ground as if trying to distance himself from the situation. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on you, every unspoken word thickening the air between you. As soon as Sophie left, the girls immediately swarmed around you, their arms linking through yours as they ushered you away from the firepit and into the makeup room.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to Sofia, who gave you a sympathetic squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve so much better than that,” she whispered, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft but strained as he appeared behind you, his presence looming uncertainly. “Can we please talk?” His tone was laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing in him. His gaze drifted to your face, catching the redness around your eyes, the remnants of tears. You sighed, dabbing away the traces of mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, Rafe.” You shrugged, brushing him off as you tried to compose yourself. “Y/n, please,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice tugging at the edges of your anger. “I swear to god, I was making it crystal clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her, over and over, that I was in a happy situation with you.”

You felt the flicker of an ache under your ribs, a small crack in the wall you’d put up. “Then why, Rafe?” Your voice rose, bitterness spilling over. “Why did she pick you? She wouldn’t have done that out of the blue if she didn’t think there was something real, something genuine, between you two.” Your words struck him, and he took a small step back, almost flinching.

He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, as if suddenly unsure. “I don’t know why she chose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you have to believe me, Y/n. None of this meant anything to me—she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at you, and for a split second, you caught something raw, almost pleading, in his expression.

But the anger and the hurt still clouded your heart. You shook your head, exhaustion coating your words. “I’m just… I’m really tired, Rafe. I just want to go to bed.” You didn’t meet his eyes, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. He paused, the silence stretching painfully between you both. “Right. Good night, then,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a sadness that lingered in the air as he turned and left.

By the time you walked into the bedroom, Sofia was already there, her arms opening for you without a word. You melted into her embrace, the comfort of her support soothing your frazzled nerves. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered, squeezing you tightly before you finally pulled away, giving her a small, grateful smile.

As you made your way to your bed, your gaze involuntarily flickered to Kayla’s. She lay there, already settled in, Rafe’s pillow on the other side, and it made your stomach churn. You slipped into bed, laying in the center, feeling an aching emptiness beside you. Rafe should have been there. His warmth, his steady breathing as you fell asleep, had been a constant.

Then, as if on cue Rafe walked into the room. His eyes skimmed over you for a second before he headed toward Kayla’s bed. The air was thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and for a moment, you wanted to reach out, to say something, but you held back, the bitterness fresh in your chest. Rafe leaned over, whispering something to Kayla, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his pillow, stepping away from her bed and heading out of the room. You caught Sofia’s gaze across the dimly lit space, her knowing look meeting your own. She offered a small smile of understanding, and you returned it faintly before letting your eyes drift shut, hoping sleep would bring a break from all the emotions.

next

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

[waytootiredstudent]

Okay alright sorry for all the sudden German politics influx but lemme explain what happened so far and why Germans are losing it a bit:

The tldr? Our government is getting a divorce and it's turning messy with elections being called early and now being called even earlier.

The longer version?

Okay so, groundwork first:

in Germany there is a coalition currently in power called the Ampel(traffic lights) bc the colours of the party are red, yellow and green (or not anymore or for much longer??). They're centrist slightly more left leaning than right leaning. (You could argue about that I am aware). There has been infighting for as long as this coalition has been going on. It is also the first three party coalition since y know, the Last Time.

So. Enough groundwork. The yellow party (FDP) has a finance minister (Christiane Lindner) it's this guy

You will see him in memes I am sure. We don't like him. He's an asshole and has blocked every meaningful change that the coalition had been trying to accomplish. He also got his finance plan blocked by our highest court because parts were against our Constitution.

(.... I am oversimplifying hard here it's actually more complicated than that and not fully his fault, but it's also not the focus)

What WAS the fault though of him and the FDP was that they had a strong position of "saving money at all costs" which made bigger and bigger rifts with the two other coalition partners who were more leaftleaning. The war in Ukraine, Infrastructure, climate change - there were many places that needed more money and Lidner was like naaahhhhh for no fucking reason other than "oh we need to save money!!"

Long story short there have been arguing all the fucking time and therefore have started to lose approval. Drastically lose approval. As on for the first time since the Last Time there is a far right party in charge for part of the country that is also being investigated for being Nazis. (Oversimplifying again).

Which is. Worrying. You know. Especially with Trump now being elected. It has us all a little skittish.

The finance minister has also now been fired.

You see. We were all still trying to stomach Trump winning the US election, when Scholz, in the same fucking evening, fired Lindner.

And not in a polite way. Nah. Olaf fucking Scholz our Chancellor, notorious for saying literally nothing, and with a running joke that he regularly stops existing bc that man Does Not Take Stances, a spine of wet cardboard, delivered this yesterday evening:

(English subtitles by me you already got this far watch it I spent too much time on this lol)

And it is insane alright. For his standards and German politic standards thats the equivalent of calling Lindner a egomaniacal bitch that has only his self interest at heart and can not be trusted.

Lindner and his party have been pulverised in all recent elections. Which means that after he was fired, the FDP completely withdrew from the coalition and all minister from the FDP resigned.

....well all but one who apparently stayed in his positions because he's leaving the FDP over this. What sort of shitty backstabbing kindergarten fight is this. (Jokes aside hes the minister of transportation and says he needs to stay in office in important projects. Which. True. Having minister resigning en mass is not good)

Alright cool cool cool cool. Current situation yesterday is the following:

So. Trump is president. Fuck.

Lindner got fired! Yaaay!

Wait my goverment is now also falling apart! Fuck.

Which all lead to new elections being called in Germany.

Mind you, that's not usual ok. I know other countries have systems where they can call an election whenever but that is not a thing that normally happens here. We have a schedule alright. (Insert obligatory "Germans and their plans and structure" joke)

So new elections are called for spring, nearly a year early. Cool cool cool. With a right wing rising in Germany and deeply unpopular current leadership. On the eve of motherfucking trump getting elected.

Habeck, leader of the green party and one of the few policians in germany I think is vaguely liked by ppl (the general attitude in German politics is less "I like this guy" and more "you are the least shitty choice I guess") has appearently also nearly started crying after the news broke. So. Yeah.

Now. Let's make this shitshow complete,alright?

There is this party. CDU. They had been in charge for a very long time in Germany. Centrist, right leaning, with the afd on the rising even more right leaning than before. Their current leader is Friedrich Merz, as unpleasant as human beings can go.

He has now called for the new election to be not in a few months but like. To be called next week.

In the current climate.

So yeah. if you're German mutuals and friends are currently going through their own stages of grief - this is why.

[venmondiese]

SUBTLE LOVE, DARING WORDS

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: Aemond is in no hurry to take a wife, yet once he realizes that he doesn't value what he has until he might lose it, he takes action. (based on THIS request!)

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader.

✧word count: 3.1k

✧tags: fluff and comfort, aemond is BAD at feelings, reader doesn't really admit anything either, slight? slowburn?, overall fluffy!!, this is really vague about in which year happens, lol

The first time he met you it was in the library.

He had his mind on the whole commotion at court, the tournament which he had refused to entertain, much to his mother's dislike because of his position as a royal. To him, it seems like a foolery, as if he was willing to participate in making himself a fool such as Mushroom. 

When he came to the library, intending to search for a book to comfort himself, he found a lady leaning down one of the staircases, where there were lots of books stacked only for maesters, with him as an exception… but not a lady surely, less one that seemed to be looking for something below. He was astonished, for many reasons. 

He watched her big, puffy dress, in rich red velvet and gold details. It was definitely a Westerlands style, so he was more confused as to why she was in this part of the library, only for maesters, and… well, him. How did the guards allow her to enter? How did she do it so confidently, as if he couldn’t make her life hell for it?

“Ehem” he scoffs, as if trying to get her away. The least of his worries was having a lady on the forbidden library corner… for now. “Get out. You are in a forbidden part”

“I am aware” your voice comes from down the staircase you had even moved some books! That made him slightly… annoyed.  As you move your head out to see the prince above you, and you make a movement with your head as if doing a courtesy. “My prince”

He was not amused, at all. You had green eyes, and the most golden hair he had seen in ages. The small lions on your dress allowed him to know who you were: A Lannister. And he definitely never wanted to deal with any of your kin. 

“And I said-”

“My cat is down there” you say, as if he cared. 

“Okay. Take it out of here”

“I can’t” you say simply, watching him with a grin. “She seems to be in labour. I didn’t know she was pregnant at all…”

He has many questions, and he frowns at your reasoning. He would take the cat and throw it out himself if he had to. 

“It is your cat, just take it away”

“Well, my father gave her to me two weeks ago!” You make a face, almost whining about it. Of course he could know which Lannister is your father. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and she is still getting used to me. She will scratch me, more if I get closer to her babies”

“A scratch won’t kill you”

“Just sit” you say softly, watching the cat and sitting on the ground to wait. “You can even keep one of the baby cats”

“My grandsire has brought enough cats already” Aemond says, walking to grab some wine for him and the lady. He wasn't impolite to be rude to a lady, much less one with your status and beauty. “They come to my bed when I am sleeping, and I wake up to cats in my chest”

“Well, I think they are cute” You say, taking the cup of wine, thanking him as you sip the wine. “Cats are felines, like lions. So I think having a cat is reasonable, better than a lion”

“Don’t you want one?”

“I have one back at home” you say shrugging, smiling widely. “He is called Brightroar”  

Of course you named it like the ancient weapon of Lannisters. “And this one?” 

“I wanted to call it Brightroar second, but it turned out to be a she. So she is just called Gemma” 

He can’t deny that he is amused, watching you being so nonchalant about it all, as if you owned the world. He raises an eyebrow as he has a slight smirk, as he sits near. 

“Gemma” he scoffs. “A very…”

“Lannister name” you say smugly. 

“Hm. I was going to say… common, perhaps” he adds.

“You would love for Lannisters to be commoners, my prince. Yet you seem to rely on our gold” you notice, raising one eyebrow. So you weren’t a silly lady, he realises, you had the wits.

“Hmm… Our gold seems a bit excessive, my lady. It is your father who is the head of your house” he reminds you, leaning back on his chair. 

You smile softly. He thinks you are Cerelle, probably. Mostly because you know Cerelle was still a kid and never been presented to the royal court.

“Mine or not, I still am more entitled to it.”

“I have a dragon.” He adds, as if this was a debate between you both. He was actually enjoying it. He had totally the wrong impression of you and he… was enjoying it. “The biggest dragon”

“Yeah, and?” 

“And I could burn your silly little castle” he shrugs, taking a dip of wine. 

“No, you could not” 

“I’m pretty sure I can”

“No, actually. I know you haven’t gone out of these four walls and this... city, my prince, but I remind you out of the kindness of my heart: Casterly Rock is literally… a rock” 

Aemond rolls his good eye, yet his smirk doesn’t leave his face. As if your cat was forgotten, he keeps on his point. 

“As if has stopped a dragon before” Aemond says simply. “Because I am as kind I shall remind you of Harrenhal, perhaps?” 

“And I shall remind you that Harrenhal is a castle made of rocks.” She shrugs softly. “Not exactly a rock. Casterly Rock is literally a castle inside a rock.”

“Some parts are out of it”

“Not the part where we keep our gold, not really”

Aemond squints his eye, and you look back at him. You amused him, looking like a defiant cat that got away with their mischief. It was fun to see, and he could hear the wails of your cat. You didn’t seem worried, neither was he. Perhaps that was the circle of life, and you knew your cat would manage. 

As you speak of such trivial matters, waiting for your cat to end her labours, he couldn’t help but admire your wits, as much as your beauty. Your velvet gown, of a strong red and some gold details did wonders with your appearance, and your brains only made you brighter. 

“What are you doing here?” It was Tyland Lannister, coming with a Maester behind, probably who sneaked your position in a forbidden library. “You know ladies can’t be here” 

“Father... My cat is giving birth” You say, frowning as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“My prince” Tyland makes a courtesy to him, a bit rigid and tense. You had heard how the prince would often terrorise your father, making him do the silliest things as if that amused him. Your uncle Jason often had a laugh about it. 

“I was not aware your daughter was…” Aemond says, turning his gaze to you “All grown up”

He knew about you, but your father talked about you as if you were a babe. You were practically his own age, for what he could tell.

“Yes, my little lion is certainly… grown” Tyland agrees, his hand on your hair as he spoke. “Come on; let’s not bother the prince…”

“It is not a bother” Aemond cuts him, serving himself more wine. “She is rather amusing”

“How dare you-!” You say, offended as you come to your defence.

“Sweetie” Your father tries to calm you, with a tense smile as if telling you to shut up.

“I am not a jester” 

“No one said you were” Aemond says, amused as he smirks. 

“You are such a…”

“Apologise” your father murmurs. 

“But fath-”

“You heard me”

“I am sorry, my prince” You say mockingly, and he smirks, even more amused.

Tyland seemed as if he was about to have a stroke, because he had enough things on his plate, and he didn’t need the prince making his life at the small council harder. 

Aemond sees Gemma, bringing her cats to show you how they were, all of them bloody, and squirmy, a bit pink and small. You petted them as you didn’t mind the blood.

“Come on. Servants will need to clean the blood” Tyland says, making a notion for you to stand up “Grab the kittens and let’s go”

“Ew, no. They are all bloody” You say frowning. “You take them” 

How lady-like. He thinks, as you didn't seem to mind the blood two seconds ago.

Even with your persistence, your father took the small and weak kittens, and your cat kept meowing at him as if he would kill him. 

“How did your cat even come here to give birth?” Your father asks as he tries to not get Gemma to kill him.

“I have no idea, father…” You say, and Aemond sees you standing up. 

He sees the pile of books in your hands, behind your back as you walk behind your father. You smart wench, he thinks, as you had just successfully stolen forbidden books by setting up your cat to give birth here. You even had him fooled. No one else notices, since your dress was puffy enough, and he noticed it by shamelessly trying to see your ass. 

You watch him, and press your index finger in your lips, as you walk behind your father and his complaints about your cat. 

“Do not bother the prince, darling” Tyland says once you get out of the library.

“I think he is quite handsome” you admit, when you know the prince won’t hear you. You father watches you shrug, walking forward him, not allowing him to see your hands. He sighs, as Gemma starts meowing loudly. 

While the rest of your interactions have been brief, he notices that you are more of a troublemaker than you let yourself look. You had that mischievous smirk always, arching your eyebrows in such a way when you had a plan. 

Yet, you were sweet. He notices how you play with your cousins, Cerelle, braiding her hair, and with Loreon, the small heir to Casterly Rock, a kid that enjoyed running around, and you often entertained his antics. 

“And there will be so many ladies, Aemond. In this time, we need alliances…” His mother says, as they walked through the castle. He hears the step of Cole behind them, guarding them, and probably hearing how his mother tried to make him a lovebird.

“It does not interest me”

“It doesn’t have to interest you. It is a matter of duty-”

“I won’t marry, mother.” Aemond shrugs, as if that was the way of his life. “Not yet. I have things ahead of me yet” 

“You inscribed on the tourney?” The queen inquires, curious. 

“No” he says shrugging, slyly trying to seek for you in the royal box, to no avail. “I am not in a hurry.”

He greeted noble ladies, of course. As he was seated on the royal box, bored and waiting, he could see girl after girl doing courtesy and smiling in a flirty way to him. It did not amuse him, and he was polite enough, almost rude. 

“She is trying really hard, you know” A voice joins his thoughts. It is you, sitting by the empty chair by his side, where Aegon is supposed to be, but he never is on time.

“Who isn’t?” He rolls his eye.

“I didn’t know you were so in demand. High valued. Sought after” you list, as you fan yourself as it was indeed a hot day. 

“Very amusing” He murmurs.

“Come on, my prince. There must be a lady who catches your attention.” 

“I am not blind” he says, rolling his good eye. “Of course there are women I find beautiful”

“Oh my... Having feelings now, congratulations, the Seven indeed are capable of the most... unthinkable miracles”

“You just woke up being so funny” he says, looking at you, raising his eyebrow, yet the small way his lips curved allowed you to know he was amused.

“I am always funny, my prince” you say watching the crowd get settled, squinting your eyes due to the sun. “My cats are good, thanks for asking. Gemma is quite the mother, even if she tried to eat one of them.”

"How... vivid." He says, raising his eyebrows in slight disgust.

"I saved them. Since they are four, I named them: Elia, Joy, Alyssa and Teora"

"And what if one of those silly cats was to be a male?" he asks, as if seeing a flaw in your cat-naming thing.

"Pff, none of them will be. I know it. And if they are, I won't change the names"

He remains quiet, surprised by how bold and petulant you could be. It was amusing to him, and he enjoyed talking to you more than he cared to admit.

“You stole from the library.” he reminds you.

“I have no idea what you are about” you say, still looking at the crowd, smiling softly. The red of your dress made your gold hair bright even more. “Ladies do not read such matters”

“Yeah, right. You are unlike any lady”

“Quite the contrary” you finally turn to see him “I am just like any other lady” you says, smiling. "It just happens that I am friends with the prince, so I am allowed to speak freely"

"Who said..." He says, opening his mouth and turning his face to you, a bit impressed by your silliness "How come you think... you suppose that we are friends?"

"Since you have neither sneaked about the time at the library, or told me to shut up and leave you alone, it is a logical conclusion, if we have in mind your previous reputation to anyone else." You say smiling. "And do not worry, if you do not consider me as such, doesn't matter, because I do and I appreciate you even if you hate me"

"You are..." He scoffs, grinning like a fool "Unbelievable"

"I know. One of my many charms. That and being a matchmaker. I love it. It is wonderful to make couples at court, and more if they end up together, being all happy and..."

“Huh.” He hums, thinking of how odd you were. “Talking about the wonders of a married life”

“I didn’t say that. I merely stated that… marriage isn’t the worst. I intend to find a husband very soon as well. I would very much like to be a wife”

“I shall pray for the poor soul who calls you wife” He murmurs as he looks at the field below, where the knights were preparing, yet you hear his grumbles. 

“And I shall pray to see prince Aemond besotted for a lady” you say teasingly, standing up, not before doing a small courtesy and leave to sit by your father, who had just arrived, frowning a bit as to why you were with prince Aemond.

The tournament does not bore him at all. He is very into the way the fight develops, and he takes mental notes when he sees some weaknesses in the participants. He regrets, just a bit, not joining, because he thinks he could have won. 

He sees you, on the seats below him, jumping in excitement as the fight develops. You are into it very much, clapping and screaming as any commoner does outside the royal box. It was improper, but it was… cute. 

He can see the rest, clapping politely, not overly excited yet proper for the occasion. You were unlike the rest, yet at the same time, you were just like any lady. It amazed him, and he did not understand.

He soon realises that he is not the only one that has you in mind, when the winner of the tournament comes closer to the stands, riding triumphantly in circles while the audience cheers him on, the crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty on his lance.

“The Winner, Ser Dale Dondarrion shall find his Queen of Love and Beauty”

He hesitates for some moments, he thinks he shall name his niece Jaehaera to win the favour of the royal house, like his ancestor once did to little princess Daenerys at the early reign of King Jaehaerys. 

Yet his smile faints when he sees that the queen of beauty’s laurel falls into your lap. 

“Lady Lannister, I hope I am deserving of dedicating my victory for you, and shall your reign be full of joy, even if lasting one night”

You take the wreath of flowers, almost jumping in sight and squealing some thanks as Tyland accommodates the crown onto your braided hair. Your crowning came with an ovation full of applause, from the box and from the commoners… but him. 

It was an odd feeling, stirring something in him, as he watches your cheeks pink from the compliments of all, and most of all; having a suitor. Being named queen of love and beauty was not anything like a dull compliment of court merely because it was proper. It was being publicly courted, and often something many ladies wished, because there was no better feeling than being shown off to everyone. 

He was quiet the rest of the day. Humming when ladies talked to him, in hopes to gain his attention and be courted; when Aegon mocked him; when Helaena placed one of her bugs in his lap, which Maelor ended up squeezing on his grip; when his mother presented him a lady of a high castle with expensive clothes and a sweet behaviour, pure, and devoted. He paid little attention to it all.

It was when your reign was coming to an end that he asks for Tyland to come to the empty throne room. He was watching the throne, carefully inspecting it, as he calculated of his next words. He was being irrational, clearly driven by his emotions and desperation rather than the logically he usually had. 

“My prince” 

Tyland was no stranger to the formalities of court, yet he never let himself be intimidated by lords that tried to impose themselves. He was the second son, yet he had established a name for himself and earned respect in his position; there was nothing for him to feel belittled about

Yet intimidation comes natural with prince Aemond around. 

He has the impression that his one eye is wide open, and the smirk that naturally was on his lip was one of amusement in the suffering of the rest. Always stoic, never doing things out of impulsivity... Which was even worse. His hands behind his back, as he remained as still as a statue.

It did not frighten him, but he knew Aemond was as cold as unforgiving. And slicing his head won’t make the prince feel regret.

“Lord Tyland” Aemond greets him softly. 

A silence follows, as Tyland feels his hand sweating slightly. “An idea for the small council?” He tries to guess. “I am sure it can wait, my prince, I should be with my daughter, since it’s her day…”

“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak about”

Tyland is a smart man, and he quickly realises the problem.

“I know she can be presumptuous and slightly spoiled, my prince” He starts, feeling Aemond’s eye on him as he turns to face him. “She takes the title too seriously, when it isn’t, Mushroom was just hyping her up, and she is just still a girl, and I apologise on her behalf for trying to impose herself as Queen, when her reign only lasts for a day, and she really is…”

“I want to marry her” Aemond tells Tyland simply. “Her reign shall not end. She can be a princess.”

Lannisters usually aren’t left speechless. They had never been known for their silence, yet here he is, silent.

“Ser Dondarrion made the same proposal hours earlier, my prince, and I…”

“And you will allow your daughter to marry a Ser instead of a prince? I have already told you. I want to be her husband” He insists, his tone not certainly soft as he loses patience. His soul craves you. He needs to be yours. He can’t let you go away. “She is smart and she has the wits. She is spoiled, and she loves to have her way. She is kind, sweet, and funny. And I want to be her husband and give her anything she asks for. Is that so hard to get?”

What wakes up Queen Alicent is her son with a stoic expression, not even entering her rooms to speak.

“I was wrong” He says simply “I shall marry Lady Lannister, mother. I am in a hurry. So I ask you to prepare the wedding. Good night and Seven blessings”

Almost a year later is when your father comes closer to your chambers once again, seeing how your ladies in waiting do a courtesy out of politeness, and he watches prince Aemond at your door, waiting for him.

“Came as fast as I could…”

“Hm” Aemond says, as he walks toward the open doors.

Tyland could have his distance with Prince Aemond, but he couldn’t deny how good a husband he was. He wasn’t a man of many emotions, in his perspective, yet he was a devoted husband. He danced as many times you wanted in the ceremony, sighing every time you made him stand up from his seat. He didn’t wear the eye patch on your wedding, just as you requested.

“That is the worst idea ever, darling” He said to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, he will have to if he wants to marry me”

And so he did. When you wanted to travel to Volantis, he arranged it all. When you wanted for him to meet Brightroar, he took Vhagar and rode into the Westerlands with you. 

“Was it all well?”

“Everyone in the castle heard a lion roar” Aemond says walking past the maesters. 

You seemed so little, in Tyland’s eyes, all sweaty and tired, like the time you got so sick he was afraid you would die. He had brought the very best maesters he could find, just to assure you were safe. 

“It is a girl” It’s the first thing you say to your father, smiling a bit. “A healthy baby”

Tyland leans, to kiss your forehead, as you extend your babe to him. It was a small thing, yet chubby and all pink still. She had small, silver hair, very thin, but present. He could see the little gold spot, as if gold hair would grow on some of her hair. It was indeed curious, and yet he couldn’t think she was anything but perfect.

“A bit squirmy” He comments, as the baby yawns, opening her mouth as she whines slightly. 

As he tries to coo the small thing, he watches how Aegon sits by your side, at the edge of the bed, passing his hand behind your shoulders to caress your shoulder. You lean against him a bit, and say.

“It is a pain to breastfeed, why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckles a bit awkwardly, he had never gotten used to your bluntness and honesty. “I never knew anything about that”

“Well, it is. I thought babies knew how to do it, but she takes a long time” You say, looking up at Aemond.

“She is still very little, my love” Aemond reminds you. 

“I know, but what if I am doing it wrongly? Mothers usually know those things, and I find myself clueless. Aunt Joanna says it comes naturally, but she has successfully raised kids who have survived childhood.” You say, looking at Aemond. “So has your mother. How comes I don’t know?”

“Because you are a mother from little more than a day.” Aemond reminds you “And they had help. So you do. You have me, of course. You have wet nurses, maids, maesters, and my own mother and of course, you have the brightest mind. We’ll do”

“Did you know Aemond cried, father?” You tell him, and he finally looks away from his little granddaughter. 

He blinks, a bit confused, watching the prince. “Oh, did he?” 

“Yeah, it was rather cute” Aemond rolls his eye amused, as your hand was on his knee. 

“It’s the only natural response.” Tyland says, his finger caressing the skin of the sleeping babe, who squirmed a bit at the feeling, like a cat. “She is delightful. Have you named her?”

Aemond looks at you, amused, expecting you to answer the question. You had the smug grin on your face, and nodded. “We had a deal. If she had golden hair, she would have a Targaryen name. If she had silver hair, she would have a Lannister name”

“And?”

“Well, she is rather… peculiar. She had silver hair, but you can see how some gold hair has grown too? It is the oddest of things, but the Maesters said it was natural. You know how cats have different hair colours?”

“Don’t compare her to a cat” Tyland makes a face, softly rocking her in his arms.

“She has both silver and gold.” Aemond says, as if reminding you to keep on trail. 

“Ah, yes. Since it’s most silver, we agreed on something that you will find the brightest things, father.” You look at your husband and then your father. “Gaemma. It’s a bit… weird to say it, but with time it shall be delightful”

Tyland looks at you, and he blinks. “Like your cat?”

“Well, thanks to her I and Aemond met.” You remind him. “She deserves some credit” You add.

“I like it” he murmurs. “Don’t make your mama lose her mind” He says, as the baby yawn, extending her arms. 

“She will, after all she is her mother’s daughter” Aemond says, taking her back, and he adds “You should have seen how loud she wailed once she came.”

“I am here, world. Hear me roar” you say, as if trying to translate Gaemma’s cries. You smile widely, and Tyland knows that even if you were always going to be his little girl, you were in the best hands, and that Aemond adored the ground you walked on. Even if you name their child after your cat. 

[elizaleclerc]

suddenly, it was everything ✿

lando norris x reader

summary: fem best friend!reader and lando take a beach trip with friends as their relationship slowly turns into something more…(warning! smut & descriptions of blood)

songs: pink + white by frank ocean , the elevator by lizzy mcalpine , lunch by billie eilish (lol)

author’s note: i don’t typically write smut but i got an itch and had to scratch it with this one ; everyone knows about his feelings for you BUT you / hurt comfort / it’s always been you / other drivers playing matchmaker <3

word count: 4.6k

The warm sand tickled your legs as the ocean waves gently lapped at your feet. You had left your group basking in the sun on the beach to cool off in the refreshing water. Your close-knit friend group loved taking vacations during breaks in the intense racing season. This time, you found yourselves on the picturesque coast of France, staying in Alex's luxurious beachfront condo. You were grateful that he graciously offered to let everyone use his space for this trip.

Even as the only girl in the group, you were always welcomed with open arms, especially by Lando, who considered you his best friend. Charles, Lewis, and Oscar had all come to see you as a dear friend as well. They never complained about your company, as they relished in the joy of having you along on their adventures. Together, you formed a tight-knit family, seeking solace and tranquility in each other's company before diving back into the high-stakes world of racing.

You waded deeper into the water, feeling the gentle caress of the waves against your knees. Suddenly, you thought you heard the thump of feet on the sandy shore behind you. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of Lando running towards you, his feet pounding against the sand with reckless abandon. You let out a playful yelp as you knew he was coming to splash water all over you.

Without hesitation, you raced further into the water, diving head first into the oncoming waves in an attempt to escape him. The cool water enveloped your body, sliding smoothly over your sun-kissed skin that was glistening with oiled sunscreen. Emerging from the water, you looked around and saw Lando swimming a few feet away from you, his bronze muscles rippling as he glided through the water effortlessly.

“How’d you swim away so fast?” He shouted, making his moves closer to you. 

“Maybe you’re just too slow.” You let out a hearty laugh. Eventually his body was swimming inches away from you as the two of you moved further out from the shoreline.

“Well, maybe you’re just a fish.” He added, out of breath. You saw the bodies of your friends laying on the sand grow smaller and smaller the further you swam away.

As you and Lando waded in the cool water, you could feel his gaze upon you. You turned to him with a grin, taking in the sight of his tanned face and wet curls. The sunlight danced off his green eyes, making them sparkle like crystalized emeralds. "What?" you asked, noticing a subtle look on his face.

"Nothing, you just...you look very happy," he replied, causing your smile to grow even wider.

You couldn't help but giggle at his observation. "Well, I am happy. I've always loved the ocean," you sighed as you leaned back and let the water support your weight, floating on your back. As parts of your stomach and thighs broke through the surface of the water, you caught Lando's gaze lingering on your body once again.

You hadn’t gotten these looks from him before, or maybe you just never noticed them. You had known Lando since you two were small children, and had followed his side as he made his way through his career, being there with him every step of the way. As his closest friend, of course there was media circulation rumoring a romance between the two of you in the McLaren paddock. But you knew that you would never risk ruining your friendship for a romance. It wasn’t until now as you floated with the movement of the waves that you started to see how people could start those rumors. 

~

On the sand, Charles and Alex watched you and Lando swim out in the distance. “I figured he’d chase after her.” Charles sighed once Lando had jumped up to chase you in the water. 

“It’s so interesting, watching them interact,” Alex added, “so close to being a couple yet so far away.”

“And she still doesn’t know he’s obsessed with her?” Lewis asked, perplexed. 

“Nope.” Oscar chimed in, “I’m just as ready for them to make it official as anyone else. I’m tired of him coming to me to talk about his feelings.” They were each laying on their own beach towels, sunglasses propped on their noses, gossiping about you and Lando like elderly ladies at teatime. 

“You know it’s nice to talk about your feelings, Osc.” Charles laughed and Oscar shook his head. 

“Not when it’s the same thing over and over again. ‘Oscar I swear I’m in love with her.’, ‘Oscar did you see what she was wearing today.’, ‘When she hugged me she smelled so good Oscar.’” He mimicked Lando’s voice and accent, earning laughs from all of the boys on the beach.

“I wish there was something we could do to just push them along. Something to really make her see just how whipped he is.” Alex thought out loud,and the group sat in silence thinking for several moments. 

“Actually- we might be able to.” Lewis finally spoke, and everyone turned his head towards him. “Lando does so much for her everyday without her actually realizing why he does it. Maybe we can sneakily drop some comments about it. Just to make her think. I’ve always wanted to play matchmaker.” 

“That could work,” Oscar hummed, already thinking of how he’d approach things. 

“Are we sure that she’s actually going to like him back? I don’t think he’d be able to handle that rejection.” Alex questioned. 

Charles scoffed, “Oh, she definitely likes him. It just needs to click in her head.” He turned his head and saw your towel folded up by the bags, and decided to grab it, hiding it under his own towel. 

“Mate, what are you doing?” Lewis grinned, and Charles held a smirk on his face. 

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

~

For at least an hour, you and Lando splashed and swam in the crystal clear water, mesmerized by the breathtaking scenery of the French coastline. The sun's warm rays caressed your skin as you lazily floated on your back, gazing up at the cloudless blue sky above. But as your fingertips started to wrinkle and prune from being submerged for so long, you reluctantly decided it was time to bask in the sun's warmth and dry off on the sandy beach.

Lando was behind you as you stepped out of the water, following you back to where everyone was laying out. “You guys should really get in that water, it feels great.” You exclaimed, your body still dripping wet as you stood next to them. 

“No thanks, Y/N, the sun and sand is plenty enough for me.” Oscar replied, his inflection filled with sass. 

“Fine,” You sighed contently, searching for your towel amidst all of the bags of stuff the group brought down. 

“Looking for something?” Charles asked, noticing your confused look. 

“Yeah, I don’t know where my towel is. I swear it was right here when I left.” You were so confused as to how you could possibly lose a bright pink towel, but you had done it. You were about to just lay on the sand to dry off, but soon Lando was laying down his own towel.

“Here, just use mine.” He offered, placing it in the spot you were laying earlier. 

Your brows furrowed, “But then you won’t have one.”

Lando shrugged, “Eh, I’ll just run back up to the house and grab another one.” Your lips parted in shock. The group had traveled far down the barren coast line, and Alex’s place was at least a mile walk, all through sand, from where they were. 

“I don’t want you to have to do that,” You objected, knowing that his body must be tired from swimming for the last hour. You felt the tiredness in your own body as you were more than ready to lay down again. 

“Y/N, I’m an athlete, I think I can manage a little walk back to the house. Don’t worry about it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, motioning for you to lay down on his towel. So you silently obliged, laying down on the warm, dry fabric. 

As Lando’s footsteps slowly trudged away, Oscar turned to look at you lying next to him. “That was nice, huh.” 

You nodded, as you grabbed your sunglasses and hat. “Yeah, I don’t know why he was so nice about it.” 

Charles laughed, “He certainly doesn’t treat any of us like that.” 

~

His words stuck with you for the remainder of the time you guys were on the beach that day. Slowly, you worked your way through your memories with Lando. He was your best friend, the kindest man you knew, and yet he did treat you differently than the other guys. He wouldn’t have given his towel to Alex or Lewis and walked all the way back up to the house. You thought back to the multitude of times Lando had brought both of you lunch on busy days around the paddock, taking the time out of his schedule to eat with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone. 

Once Lando came back, he had grabbed some fresh cut fruit, offering you some first before anyone else. He put his new towel down next to you, as the two of you shared orange slices. The sweet citrus flavor flooded your mouth, but you were still stuck on Charles’s words. 

You laid on your stomach, head resting on your folded arms as you looked at Lando. He was laying on his back, his eyes closed under his sunglasses. Your eyes traveled all around him, watching his curls slowly dry the longer you guys were in the sun. Your sight moved to his slightly sun kissed cheeks, and admired the way some of his freckles had begun to show with the introduction of the summer season. You observed how the bridge of his nose had a small bump in it, rounding out at the tip of his nose, the curves of his lips leading to his perfectly chiseled jawline.

The image of Lando’s face had been imprinted in your mind since you first met him, but you weren’t sure you had ever really paid attention to the details like you were now. 

~

The group called it quits for the day just before dinner time. You all made the trek back to the house, and everyone showered the coarse sand and sunscreen off of their bodies. With fresh clean and tan skin, the group chatted around the kitchen as everyone pitched in to help make dinner. 

You and Lando had been put in charge of chopping up the vegetables that were going into the pasta salad. You had to convince Lando that you could be trusted with the large and sharp knife. He prepped and washed the veggies as you chopped them. The two of you stood inches apart, his arm often grazing yours, sending chills through your body. You had never felt that way before with his slight touch, which sent your mind whirling once again.

Suddenly, as you were going to make another slice into some round baby tomatoes, the sound of broken glass echoed through the room as Lewis dropped a bottle of sauce from the cabinets, your body jolting in shock. With the harsh movement, the blade from the knife cut part of your finger. 

You winced  as trickles of blood blended into the vibrant red of the tomato juice. Lando’s eyes shot over to you, and immediately noticed your fresh cut. It was deep into your skin, slicing right through the fleshy part of the tip of your index finger.

You stood motionless, staring at the deep gash on your finger as blood ran down your hand. Suddenly, Lando's strong hands grasped your arms and guided you to the sink. The other boys crowded around, their faces etched with worry as they repeatedly asked if you were okay. With Lando's warm body pressed against yours, he turned on the faucet and held your finger under the cold water, which quickly turned pink from the blood.

“Lando, you take her to the bathroom by my bedroom. There’s bandaids and plenty of first aid supplies in there. Hopefully the cut isn’t deep enough to need stitches.” Alex had moved over to the veggies, saving the ones that weren’t ruined from the mess of your finger. 

The pain radiated from your finger, searing and intense. You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down your face as Lando calmly guided you to Alex's bathroom. Every step felt like agony, but Lando's strong grip never faltered.

You were still in shock, the burning sensation making it hard to think clearly. But Lando was a natural caregiver, moving confidently to retrieve supplies from the cabinets. You stood there, feeling small and helpless, as he laid everything out on the counter.

With gentle hands, Lando lifted you up onto the counter, giving you a better vantage point for him to clean and dress your wound. Despite your tendency to cry at the slightest injury, Lando remained calm and focused, his protective instincts taking over. As he worked, you couldn't help but marvel at how well he knew what to do in this situation.

As he pressed a cotton pad against the cut, you felt your feet sway slightly in the air. The amount of blood soaking into the white pad made your head spin and your vision blur. His voice was gentle and soothing as he reassured you, “It’s alright, you’re okay”, his hand holding yours with a firm yet delicate grip. You could feel yourself leaning into his touch, seeking comfort and safety from the pain.

With a quick, determined movement, he snatched the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom cabinet. The distinct smell of alcohol filled the air as he uncapped it, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. "This is gonna hurt," he warned, his voice full of concern. You felt a chill run down your spine as he poured the liquid over the wound, the intense burning sensation making you grit your teeth and let out a sharp whimper of pain. Your hand trembled uncontrollably as Lando's gentle touch on your thigh provided some comfort in the midst of this agony. "I'm so sorry, my love," he murmured as he continued to clean the cut, his eyes full of worry. "We can't risk an infection.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face again. He cleaned away any dirt and grime and wrapped your finger with a thin layer of gauze to help absorb any further bleeding. He then took a thick bandaid and finished up the job.

Your breathing finally slowed as you sniffled. Lando finally looked into your eyes, his own filled with sympathy for your pain. “See, all better.” He placed his lips delicately on your fingertip, giving it a soft kiss. 

You laughed sheepishly, only feeling the pulsating throbs of your wound. He took his thumbs and wiped away the rest of your tears, taking a moment to look into your glossy eyes. You both had paused, entranced in the eyes of the other. 

Lando then seemed to snap out of it, “You should head back to the kitchen. I’ll get everything cleaned up in here.” He cleared his throat nervously, and you hopped off the counter and left the room. You weren’t sure if it was the pain in your finger or if you had gotten burned earlier in the beach sun, but your cheeks felt flushed. 

~

Everyone sat at the dinner table chatting between one another, but you kept to yourself, only chiming in rarely. So many things played in the back of your mind. Lando caring for you at the beach, Charles’s comment, him standing against you as he rinsed off your finger, his delicate and generous touch as he bandaged up your wound. His voice echoed in your ear as he flooded you with reassurance, him calling you “love”. He had never adorned you with that nickname before. 

“Y/N, you alright? I didn’t fuck up dinner right?” Oscar asked, breaking your train of thought at the table. 

You forced a smile, “No, no, it’s delicious. Guess I’m just a little worn out from today.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Lewis sighed. “Long day of getting tired out with swimming, coming back to cook dinner only to cut your finger open.” He shook his head, “Thank god you had Lando here to take care of you. I don’t think any of us could’ve handled that much blood.” Lewis rambled on, but his words struck with you too. You felt like you were going crazy.

Had Lando always been this affectionate? Or was there just something about this beach trip that caused you to think and see him in a different light. Everyone went on chatting about various topics, many regarding the next phase of the racing season. 

As the night wore on and everyone retired to their rooms, you couldn't help but feel torn. Your body craved rest and the warmth of your bed, but your mind was consumed by thoughts of Lando. You had never questioned your feelings for him before, but now they seemed to swirl in a tangled mess. He was your best friend, and risking everything for romantic desires seemed foolish. Yet, your heart continued to ache for his touch and presence. You were torn between what you wanted and what you knew could potentially destroy your friendship. As you lay in bed, conflicted thoughts kept you awake, unsure of what the right choice was.

You decided to get out of your bed and travel downstairs to the kitchen. Your throat was dry and you longed for an ice cold water. It must have been 2am, so you weren’t expecting anyone to be awake as you were only clad in a revealing tank top and short shorts that clung to your skin. 

However, as you turned the corner into the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks. Lando, shirtless, dressed only in his boxers, stood around the kitchen island, drinking his own glass of water. 

“Oh-“ you muttered in surprise, as his tired eyes met yours. 

“Oh, hey.” His voice seemed languid, and you assumed he had not had a wink of sleep either. “What are you doing up?”

“I just um…couldn’t sleep I guess.” You shrugged as you poured yourself a glass, the cool liquid already sweating around the cup. 

As you awkwardly drank the water, out of the corner  you saw his eyes track up and down your body, further causing your mind to flip and turn.

“How’s the finger?” He asked, and you broke a smile. 

“Doing better. I don’t think I ever thanked you earlier.” You spoke softly, resting the side of your hip on the counter next to him. “Lewis was right, I think they might have fainted with how much blood there was.” 

Lando smiled, “Don’t mention it. I guess I just went into protector mode.” His words once again caused your heart to pulse. Your breath quickened, and as the seconds passed you were putting all of the pieces together. 

“Charles said earlier that you wouldn’t treat the other guys that way.” You blurted out, your mouth and heart seeming to operate separate from your brain. 

He furrowed his brows slightly in a smile, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean earlier with the beach towel. And the fruit. And healing me, calling me love, wiping my tears away. Why?” As you spoke the smile slowly dropped. You watched his toned, tanned, torso rise and fall with his breath. 

You looked into his eyes, there was a moment of connection, of reciprocation. Then he spoke in almost a whisper, like he was scared of anyone else hearing him, “I think you know why.”

“Lan…” Your voice cracked, and all at once everything seemed to make sense. Of course he had treated you this way. Of course you had let him. You wouldn’t want anything else. He was all you needed, all you craved.

He stepped closer, his warm hand finding its way to your hip and gently resting there. The intensity in his voice was palpable as he begged for your approval, “Please tell me this is okay,” his words coming out dry and desperate.

You looked up at him, your heart racing with anticipation. With a slow nod, you gave him the go-ahead, your lips already parting in yearning for his touch. When his lips finally met yours, it was like an electric shock, sending tingles down your spine and igniting a fire within. Your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, fingers tangling in his soft curls as your movements became synchronized with his. His hands traced random patterns on your waist, each touch sending shivers throughout your body as desire coursed through every inch of you.

Your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking and leaving love bites in between kisses. His breathing became heavy, “Easy now, I might not be able to control myself.” 

You smirked, meeting his eyes again as you traced his abs muscles, “I wouldn’t be one to stop you.” 

The kisses had become intense and passionate, his hands trailing all over your body. This time it was Lando that kissed along your neck and collarbone. His breath was hot against your skin, “Let me please you, I’m begging,” he muttered, and your legs became weak. 

“Not here…” You answered, and asked if you could go to his room.

Lando led you to his bedroom. He pressed you against the bed, peppering kisses along your collarbone and leaving love marks in his wake. Gasping for air, you slowly removed your tank top while he couldn't take his eyes off of you. His lips eagerly found their way to your breasts, causing waves of pleasure to shoot through your body. As he continued his journey down your chest and torso, Lando deftly slid off your pajama shorts, revealing more of your bare skin. "You are so beautiful," he murmured between kisses.

You were almost frustrated with how easily he found his way around in the bedroom, knowing he’s had plenty of attention from other girls in the past. His warm lips traced all the way down to your hips, and they arched as he took his time down your body. 

“I need you,” you whimpered, annoyed with how long he was taking to start pleasuring you. 

“Patience my love, I’m just getting started.” His voice vibrated off of your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. Then, as you were finally adjusting to his teasing, he licked all the way up your entrance, causing you to emit a soft moan. “Don’t get too loud now, Alex’s room is right next door.”

Lando's skilled tongue flicked and sucked against your sensitive core, causing you to squirm and moan uncontrollably. You tried to muffle your sounds with your hand, not wanting to wake anyone in the house. But the pleasure was too intense, each movement of Lando's mouth bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, he pulled away and kissed you deeply. Your taste mingled with his on his lips as you caught your breath. Your fingers tangled in his curly hair, but before you could fully relax, he thrust two fingers inside of you. The sudden intrusion sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you cry out loudly. Lando quickly covered your mouth with his hand, trying not to alert anyone to what was happening between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, “C’mon baby,” trailing kisses down to your collarbone. Your body trembled as he worked his fingers inside you, each movement hitting the perfect spot. His thumb found your clit and began circling, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

Your moans turned into incoherent pleas for more as he whispered dirty words in your ear. With one final thrust, he brought you over the edge, your entire body shaking with pleasure. “That’s it,” he held you close, gently kissing your forehead as you came down from your climax. You traced kisses along his jawline, struggling to catch your breath after such an intense release.

As the passion in the room died down, Lando kept planting soft kisses on your neck. Your bodies had cuddled together, tired from the restless night and the intensity between you. You couldn’t believe how the night had unfolded, as things had become a complete 180 from where the day started. 

“Y/N?” Lando asked softly. Your eyes met his in his bed, limbs intertwined. 

“Hmm?” You hummed tiredly. 

“I want you to know, you mean way more to me than what we just did. I’ve waited a long time to really tell you how I feel. You’re the most important person in my life, and I hope everyday I can show you just how much I love you.” He reassured you, bringing a soft smile to your face. 

Tears almost came to your eyes, “You love me?” 

He grinned, tucking the hair on your face behind your hear and caressing your cheek, “I think I always have.” 

You kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Lan.”

~

After a few hours of much-needed rest, you and Lando slowly emerged from the comfort of your shared bed to start the day. You were in the clothes he had lent you - his boxers hanging loosely on your hips and a baggy t-shirt that was now adorned with small hickeys peeking out from beneath the fabric. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, tempting your senses.

As you tended to the breakfast dishes, Lando came up behind you at the stove and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He wore a cozy sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, enveloping you in his warmth as you basked in his embrace. Turning to face him, you cupped his handsome face in your hands and brought your lips to his in a sweet morning kiss.

“Oh shit.” A voice from the other side of the room exclaimed. Startled, you looked to see Lewis and Charles standing across the kitchen island, mouths almost to the floor. 

“Fuck, I owe Oscar twenty bucks.” Charles sighed. 

You and Lando just looked at each other with a confused expression.

[hazelfoureyes]

Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?” 

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 

“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 

Fun. 

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 

“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable. 

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation 

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 

A doe. 

The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

 ....always and forever, 

....in yesterday. 

....rusty cage 

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations 

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 

 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 

With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 

Not a new sensation, but a different one. 

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 

 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[nickfowlerrr]

with you

part one

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: just about 8.5k

notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵

You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.

There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.

You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.

But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.

Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…

Someone.

Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”

“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”

“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.

“Did you find it?”

“Out of stock,” he frowns.

“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”

“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.

Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.

“I know,” he says, softly.

You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.

“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.

“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.

—

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.

Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.

Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.

You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"

You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.

In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.

"It's not light up ghosts, but,"

"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.

You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.

Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.

"Just like you," he simpers.

You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.

"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"

Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.

"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.

He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.

"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."

You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.

You swallow hard.

You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...

"I just...I don't know."

You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.

"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."

"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"

"We go back," you nod. "I know."

"Well," he starts, "do you?"

"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"

His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"

"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.

"Sweetheart, that is not true."

"You don't know that, Buck,"

"Oh, and you do?"

"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.

He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.

You sigh, but continue.

"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.

"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"

"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"

"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."

You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.

"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."

You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.

"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.

"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."

"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.

"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."

"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."

You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.

You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.

"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.

"You're my best friend?"

"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."

Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.

You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”

“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.

You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.

“I know exactly where this is going.”

—

The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.

But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.

Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.

The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!

You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.

You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.

And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.

"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.

"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."

"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.

"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.

“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.

“And your costume on.”

“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.

He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.

Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.

This was real.

You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.

You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.

It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.

“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”

“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”

You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.

He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.

"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.

Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.

"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.

You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.

"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.

You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.

You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”

You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.

“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.

Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.

He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.

“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.

He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”

You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.

You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.

You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.

You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…

You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.

Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.

Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…

You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.

You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.

You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.

He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.

It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.

“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.

He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.

Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.

He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.

PLEASE TAKE ONE

He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.

You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.

Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.

You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.

You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.

His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.

Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.

You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.

You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”

“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.

You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”

His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.

He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.

His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.

He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.

He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.

He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.

He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.

It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.

Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.

“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.

You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.

“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect��� This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.

“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.

As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.

His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.

“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”

You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.

“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”

The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.

Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.

His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.

The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.

You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.

He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.

You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.

He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.

It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.

You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.

He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.

“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.

You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”

You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.

He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.

“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”

“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”

“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.

“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”

You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.

There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.

You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.

“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.

You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.

“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.

“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”

“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.

You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.

Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.

You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.

“What?”

“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.

“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.

“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.

“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.

You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.

You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.

You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.

“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.

You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?

“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.

“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.

You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.

“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.

“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”

You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”

“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.

“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”

“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”

You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.

You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.

“You.”

—

You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.

“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.

He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”

You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.

Really see you.

Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…

“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.

“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”

You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.

You know you’d be okay with that.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.

“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.

Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.

It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.

With you.

—-

a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3

[mywritersmind]

SLIM PICKINS - LN4

summary : in which y/n is over her pathetic love life and lando sees an obvious way to fix her situation. inspired by slim pickins by sabrina carpenter ifykyk😘

listen up : no warnings !! i don’t write smut so sorry lol

word count : 600

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“I’m literally going to die alone!” I groan and lay back on my bed, on the phone with my friend.

She laughs on the other side, “You’re so dramatic!”

“I am not! These are just my thoughts.” She makes the point that my phone is constantly blown up by men, “Yes well they’re all douchebags! All I want is a boy who’s jacked and kind!”

“What about Lando, then? You always complain but Lando Norris is the definition of that!” I groan into the phone. My infamous best friend, the subject of my fantasy’s and utterly and completely off limits.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, many times. “No chance.”

“But why!?”

I sigh, “He’s just… my friend! I don’t even see him like that.”

I hear her scoff dramatically, “You don’t see him as jacked or kind!? Do we need to get your eyes checked?”

I hang up.

⋆༺

There’s a boy in my room an hour later, laying next to me after putting out in five minutes. I text Lando to call me with an ‘emergency’ so he’s gone as quick as possible.

Lando laughs over the phone, “That bad, huh?”

I fall onto my bed, screaming into my pillow, “He didn’t even know the difference between their, there, and they are.” I hear his laugh on the other side, biting my lip from screaming even more because he sounds so damn sexy.

“Sorry love…” fuck, that nickname. “ever tried it with a girl? It’s fun.” He’s joking to boost my mood but I just frown.

“I think the Lord forgot my gay awakening.”

⋆༺

I walk with Lando to the elevator, drinks and shopping bags in hand, “So, what? You’re just gonna keep moaning and bitching until a man falls into your lap?”

“The good ones are all deceased or taken.” I shrug, “So yes. I mean seriously- what’s a girl to do? Every man is evil and lazy but I gotta get off somehow.” Lando chokes on his drink.

“Shit, Y/n. Tell it to me straight then.” I roll my eyes as we exit the elevator. We walk his room, swinging my bags and throwing them onto the couch, “So what is your type then?”

I plop down on his bed, laying back and staring at the ceiling, “Any nice man who breathes? Someone who’s jacked and kind!” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

He’s still laughing, I throw a pillow at him, “Come on!” he shakes his head.

“Lando!” I watch him shake his head and throw the pillow back. “What is so funny?”

“I’m jacked and kind.” He shrugs, unscrewing his water bottle top and taking a swing.

I lean back on my hands, tilting my head to look at my best friend, “Lando.”

He's still drinking water when he pulls up his shirt, revealing his *ahem* jacked body. Fuck.

Look, seeing Lando’s face and arms every day is enough to keep me up at night. But this? THIS!? I’m fucked. At least I wish I was (by him).

“You’re staring.” He teases, dropping the fabric and putting his water down. I am staring. And I do not have any plans to stop.

“Lando.” I warn as he steps closer, a slow smirk forming on his face.

“Y/n.” He mocks me in that sexy voice he does. “Say the words, love. I’m there.” His knees knock mine, he’s standing right in front of me and looking down with those green eyes of his.

“Please.” I whisper, and he’s on me in an instant.

[the-tarot-witch22]

Physical Appearance of your future spouse! - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1 :

(Knight of pentacles, the moon, 3 of wands and 5 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing i felt from this card you future spouse seems very masculine like their features and overall vibe of their look seems so manly, or it can be you who prefers very masculine man, this pile's energy seems so mysterious and private, your future seems like someone who is quite private or mysterious when it comes to their personal relationships or affairs they are not very open with every people they meet, their gaze seems so sharp like if he looks at you for more than few seconds you will just look away, the dressing sense could be like comfortable wear or formal wear, like oversized hoodie or sweater or under a shirt, trousers below, i see lots of brown and colors that are quiet darker in shade, with contrasting white or off white, their eye colors could be (blue/green/brown), eyes could be foxy or smaller in shape, there could also be a dimple and it could be you guys too, he might like to wear rings, their hands seems veiny and bigger in size , long fingers, height is above than 5'10, they might also keep a beard, skin color could dark tan to fair/ pale, they seems foreign than you or could unusual type, as might their eyes are intense it also seems that there is some vulnerability inside them. Their build seems toned or athletic but not many abs, they could also have muscles, his biceps would be big, lol they seems to tell me just to say that, for some of you i see lean physique for your future spouse, they might also like to go to gym. Or keep their health in check. They might also exclude that rich vibe, their perfume could also be very unique! Their hairs could be black/brownish shade but wavy! Their lips seems fuller.

Okay that was all for pile 1! Your fs seems to be very attractive honestly, good for you guys!

Pile 2 :

(The hierophant, page of pentacles, ace of swords and the magician)

Okay so the very first thing i feel for you guys that your future spouse seems like a nerd hehe, like with glasses and who seems to have knowledge of everything and definitely do, they might wear glasses too, they could also be a gamer or like to play games in their free time, their face is structured not that defined jawline but definitely there, their hair seems thick and luscious, and big almond eyes, with long eye lashes, their could be thin or medium pouty, heart shaped lips ifykwim, their eye color could be hazel, brown, black, or bluish/green, they might like blue color a lot because i see lots of blue color, prominent chin and nose, long nose, but won't look weird, it matches with their face structure, the hair length could be long and they might wear it in bun or medium length, their build seems big i am channeling the song "big boy by sza", they seems to like a smarty pants, they might even be in touch with their feminine side, for some of you, your fs seems soft, their is something soft about them , like baby features could look younger then they are, their teeth are definitely very white, their voice seems to be deep or very unique, for some of you it seems like a high pitched voice too, or it could be you, they seem to be quiet spiritual or religious, i also feel they might like to go to church or believe in god or upper power? but anyways, height is average to tall 5'9"-5'12". They seem to have a unique charm about their appearance. Their face could be oval or square too. For some of you your fs could have a athletic or sleeper build. They or you might have had self image issues in past, or some of you still feel that, but i feel you and your fs is working on that part. I feel there might have been someone in your life that has made them feel like that or you. (this may or may not resonate with you) , this message wasn't for everybody but i wrote what i channeled. Their skin could be brown/white/dark. They are attractive in their own way.

Okay that's all for pile 2! They seems quite cute yet smart~ love that for you guys! and remember you guys are beauiful!

Pile 3:

(king of wands, the lovers, 8 of wands, 8 of cups, and the devil)

Okay so the very first thing i hear for you guys is your future spouse is very sexually appealing and attractive, and they know they are sexy, when they walk in a room you can feel their presence, the aura is very confident, they seem to be very confident in themselves, very good looking honestly, their eyes are intense and beautiful, like someone could lose themselves in their eyes, they even might seem intimidating to you because of their physical appearance, their dressing sense is also very good, they seem very fashionable or has unique taste, they also seems to turn heads while they walk in a certain room, or people talk about their good looks, their masculine and feminine energy is very balanced, they are tall possibly 5'11"-6'0" or could also be above, if not i feel 5'8 or 5'9 their height that is, they might also seem like a Greek god or that type of attractiveness, their jaw is structured or has and defined jawline, they keep their hairs short and styled in a slick style for some of them they might also use gel, their face is very proportionate, very sharp nose or straight nose, could wear glasses or watches, for some of you your future spouse could have curly hairs, skin could be pale/dark/tan possibly olive. They workout a lot, could have a dad bod with muscles too, but nevertheless very attractive, they also seem quite dominating, their eyes color seems to be blue/black and brown or unique color of sort, they might take care of their self quite good. They might like to wear sport shoes a lot. They really look like a model honestly.

That's all pile 3! Your fs is very attractive inside and out, love that for you guys~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[death---dealer]

Bitter Sweet. ( Five x Reader Oneshot. )

i have no explanation other than my babies are still alive and that season 4 never happened SEASON 4 NEVER HAPPENED---- Give me snarky, asshole, pragmatic five back before i die. Reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated, thank u.

Title: Bitter Sweet. Fandom: The Umbrella Academy. Pairing: Heavily Implied ! Five x Reader. Rating: T. ( Language, lol. ) Words: 1.2K+ Summary: ( Taking place in an AU after season 4, let me live in my fantasy that's what fanfics are FOR ). You knew how specific Five was about his coffee. You knew he would speak his mind regarding and it was too much fun to let go of.

════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ 

Four cubes. 

No, no… Five felt his mouth part in astonishment, crystal clear green eyes peering in languid judgment as your plucked another sugar cube from a pristine porcelain bowl and plopped it right into the white coffee cup that was placed in front of you. It sploshed happily, absorbing the coffee and sweetening the deal for you to enjoy, but that was never the point in the grand scheme. You were ardently aware of how irritating it was, one cube after another. The quantity itself was deliberate and you knew… How you were able to feel his stare hell-bending holes into your face. He was unable to see the liquid despite trying with a narrow gaze but he was willing to bargain much of what he owned that it was pale in color, not even teetering towards tan but more towards plain white.

 A grimace was noticed by Klaus who bargained a chuckle as he looked towards you, seated beside him with raised eyebrows of acute amusement, “You’re desecrating whatever coffee you had, I think Five is going to lunge across the table and take you by the neck---” “Five can shove it.” The innocence that rode against your face was evident as the Hargreeves man  across from you scoffed under his breath at the juxtaposed expression coupled with the aggressive nature of your words. “It’s my cup, not his. We can’t all drink it b---”

“Black like my soul, right?” Five rolled his eyes, shoulders drawing themselves in some minor defense and you were able to see the tightness of which he held himself from the tailored nature of his suit. Five was lanky and skinny, but that didn't seek to say that he was without defined muscles against his sweeping collarbones and it was evident in certain motions that left you reeling back from the hardened words that he responded with.

“Get some original insults, (Name). You’re becoming way too predictable. Boring even---” His voice was incredulous, sticking towards monotonous but still held irate interest in speaking to you, only detectable around the edges and it sang against your ears. 

Flirtatious only to you, aggressive and leaned with hatred to others. A game of cat and mouse, though at times, you were unsure of which one you were playing. “I was going to say bitter just like your personality, but you know me. Predictable.” Klaus held a defensive hand up, grasping at his own cup and pretending he was beckoned elsewhere to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable coming in the way that Five cleared his throat, a hand raising and tightening the bundle of fabric where his tie rested against his throat. 

He straightened it, you noticed with acute mirth, but there was no need to. It was already perfectly placed, part of the morning ritual you imagined he held close to his chest after spending so long cultivating it. Five was… A creature of habit, to many extents. Needless to say, it was one of those simple actions that you enjoyed seeing none-the-less, fingers twitching in a finite need to deshevel the pin-black tie to further push the boundary of where you and Five so often tightroped. No solace was given to either party as his knuckles rubbed against the underside of his sharpened jaw. There was hostility tangling in with notes of attractive coyness as he snapped at you, “You’re a goddamn monster, you know that? Fuck---” “I’m not the one getting angry over how someone else makes their coffee.” You bit back without reserve and another sickly smile placed towards the brunette as you finally picked up your spoon and allowed it to sink into the cup. It scraped -- Horrid, Five felt a shiver run down his spine at the vibrations he could feel against the oak table from your simple movement. Like nails against a chalkboard. 

“Can you even call that coffee?” Five spliced and looked down at his own mug, half-emptied and his saliva still coating and drying where he had last taken a drink against the curve. “Did ya even put any in there? Any beans? Any espresso?” “There’s some in here.” There was a justification with a faux pout which Five remarked as being feverishly unfair. You were good at playing expressions, he was good at playing words. “I think….” You mused and lifted your cup up to your mouth and kissed the rim. Five swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing which was feasted upon by your eyes before you took a long sip. Control rested in your hands as you refused to let him look away from you. 

Five sneered, your eyes taking in the delectations of seeing his sharpened canines. “You’re going to lose all your teeth from all the shit you put in that. Creamer and then what? Five sugar cubes? Are you a horse? Want me to feed you them straight from my hand?” There was a rustling sound as Five leaned inwards, his suit jacket pulling up with the motion that was placed as he so graciously plucked a sugar cube from the bowl that had been nearly emptied by you and offered it in the palm of his hand. “C’mon, take it. Be a good little horse.” “”Ha-ha,” You laughed sarcastically, smacking his gesture away which sent the cube flying off to be cleaned up later. “I’ll bite your fingers clean off.” “Not if you don’t have any fucking teeth! I kind of hope you do lose them. Hell, take me to the dentist when you get them pulled, I’ll bring them home and make a necklace for you.”

“You DIY things, Five?” There was another laugh from you as you took a sip of your drink, “Never pegged you to be that crafty.” There was emphasis on the word ‘pegged’, Five catching hold of the implication which garnered you that shit-eating grin that was more than infamous at this point. “Just this once.” He smirked, giving you a dimpled smile of feigned innocence to rival the one you splayed for him earlier. Sitting up in his seat, it scooted against the floor below with a loud bellow and you watched with bated astonishment as he leaned against the table to bring his upper half closer to you. Face only inches apart now, you refused to relent eye contact with him and tried to desperately shove down the connotation that you were able to clearly smell the after-shave that he favored. Pinely in scent, you wanted to grasp at his chin and feel the stubble against your fingers but that wasn’t the point here. The point was to be the cat while Five was forced to be the mouse.

“Just for you, a nice necklace and some earrings. Bracelet, maybe? A matching set. You'd look like such a doll."

“I’ll wear the set to your funeral. Clutch them instead of my pearls as I sob, telling everyone what a wonderful ray of sunshine you were to be around before you so tragically died.”

“Is that a date?” 

Five huffed at you as you stood from your seat, his gawk watching the movement with hostility as you craned your body towards him and grasped the base of his tie. Enlightened with curiosity, the disgusting smile of attraction rose along his cheeks, quickly torn to shreds as you pulled the tie downwards, the knot coming undone without reserve. 

“With you six feet under? You bet your damn ass it is.”

[artsninspo]

"CINDERELLA 🛍️" - RIO X READER

Authors Note: Inspired by this ask, i've come to deliver 'sweet' Rio. Let me know how I did lol.

Summary: This ones fluffy 🐻 🐻 🐻, when boyfriend Rio hears you celebrating your friend getting spoiled by her man he has questions and answers.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word-Count: 1.2K

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Sitting in your backyard you laugh sitting forward as you take a break from your book. You slide back on the recliner to get a better look.

“Eeeeeeeee” you squeak, looking at the haul in front of your best friend.

“I know right!” She smiles wide eyed.

“I can’t believe it! You need to come over and see” she laughs hand to head in disbelief as you talk on FaceTime.

“Trust me, I’m coming” you nod sipping your morning green juice. 

“Okay, yes! Come over, I'll order pastries and we can play dress up.” She proposes.

“Okay!” You smile hanging up to head back inside. You head to your bedroom to find something to wear and then into the bathroom to get ready. You’re nearly finished when Rio appears in the doorway.

“Morning, you’re up early” he says, kissing your temple and pulling you into a hug.

“Morning baby, I’m headed over to my bestie's place.” You smile.

“What do you two have going on?” He asks as you finish your hair, always curious, always protective.

“She’s seeing this guy who … oh my gosh! Babe you should see it. He bought her like three designer bags, and cleared out her shopping carts for Amazon and another site.” You smile but Rio doesn’t. He doesn’t like the excitement you carry while talking about another man.

“Sure it’s all real?” Rio says and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a hater” you mumble, casting a disappointed look over your shoulder.

“When are you coming back home?” Rio asks, looking you over.

“We just need an hour or two,” you shrug.

“Are all the girls gonna go?” he asks.

“Don’t know but I’d assume her sisters are coming too.” You explain. Nodding Rio takes your chin giving you a kiss to love on you. He never lets you leave his sight without giving you affection, it's something about him that you love. When he pulls away your eyes open to find him taking your expression in before he steals a few more quick kisses, holding you against him.

“Come back around 4” he says into your hair.

“Okay” you nod. “Need anything while I’m out!”

“I’m good, have fun with your friends.” Rio says, letting you go.

Rio’s always admired how you speak about the people you love. You never hate, you’re such a good person you don’t take your friends’ excitement and milestones as bragging or showing off and you’re not a jealous person. Yet, you never brag about yourself.

“I will” you smile but he doesn’t leave. “What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know you like designer” he shrugs looking you over with folded arms.

“It’s pretty, I can appreciate it” you shrug.

“How come you don’t have any bags?” He asks.

“Can’t justify the expense. I don’t dress up or go out enough” you tell him honestly. You’re the inside friend. The green juice over tequila friend. The Pilates and picnics over clubs and vip sections. You aren’t above the latter but it just isn’t you.

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Want me to drop you off?” He asks.

“Sure”

“Bet, I’ll be in the car” he mutters, patting your butt as he leaves you to it. You’re out in five minutes. Rio gets your door, always the gentleman. The drive is short and you give him a quick kiss before you’re off.

———

You walk out to Rio’s car giddy. Girls' time is much needed. Nothing is better than hearing about when your friend’s man has done well. You prefer it infinitely to the contrary.

“Hey” you smile leaning over the console to give him a kiss.

“Have fun?” he asks.

“Yep, she’s happy and I love that for her.” You tell him. Rio nods not giving a fuck about your friends one way or another.

“I gotta pick up a few things before we head back to the house,” he says.

“Ok” you nod powering up your kindle for the ride. Rio smiles watching as you read.

“Are you reading some shit we can get into later?” He teases. You blush and he laughs.

“Maybe I don’t know yet?” You respond. He gets a call from his cousin Nick and you tune it out noting the hostility in his tone. You figure the pick-ups are for Nick but when the car stops at the high end shopping plaza in your city you’re confused. You follow him into Hermes. 

“Called ahead, booked the private room with my girl. Gave the sales associate her sizes,” he says as you look down at your yoga outfit, glancing at your casual hairstyle in the mirror horrified.

“Baby” you quip just above a whisper.

“You look beautiful,” Rio responds, kissing your temple.

“Right this way” the associate smiles, taking you into a room. You see sandals, bags and a picnic basket on the table. Along with comfortable seating, mirrors and champagne. “I’ll leave you to it,” she smiles.

“Rio” you sigh, heart racing.

“Don’t start mama. If I want to do something nice for my girl, I can.” He says with defiance seated.

“But baby, I can’t return the favour” you pout looking at all the luxury items around you. Rio pulls you in wrapping his arms around your waist as he looks at you from the elevated seating. 

“You keep my head clear, you don't stress me out, you take care of me and don't ask for shit. It’s priceless” he explains. You smile feeling appreciated and he smirks. “Go one have fun!” he nudges.

“I love you Christopher” you giggle holding his hands.

“Love you too” he responds. You look at a few of the sandals wincing at the price. You look at the picnic basket and see it’s like $20k.

Gasping you look at him. “Rio this stuff is seriously too expensive.”

“Money isn’t a problem,” he reminds, picking up a sandal. You sit overwhelmed.

“Rio people have real life problems and I’m walking around with a bag that’s worth a car?” you question the ethics and implications of these kinds of wealthy displays.

“Well look at that Cinderella” he teases. It’s a perfect fit. You smile admiring the design elements. It’s your style and the colour compliments your skin tone. “The purses can fit everything, shoes you can wear anywhere, and there’s no monogram.” He explains and you pause relenting when you see he won’t drop it. You accept his generosity allowing yourself to accept the grandiose gifts. Your heart races as you turn back to the bags. You pick up a bag in your favourite colour and one in black. He buys you a couple of sandals and you leave the overpriced picnic basket knowing it’s highly likely to be stained or damaged. The total of everything makes your heart race but Rio doesn’t flinch paying with a smile. An associate boxes everything up and places them into the trunk of Rio’s car for you.

“Thank you” you smile giving him a kiss.

“You clap for everyone around you, sit back and let me take care of you alright?” He asks, holding your gaze calmly. It makes you a little misty eyed. Rio chuckles, giving you a peck.

“Big baby,” he says, pulling out and heading home. Rio helps you arrange your closet with your new things and you show him some appreciation in the shower. You're all ready for bed when you get a facetime call from your bestie. Rio sees it first.

“Make me sound good, yeah?” he teases, stepping out and you laugh answering with a smile before bragging on your man.

_______

Authors Note: You know the drill, don't forget to like comment and reblog. Let me know how I did in the replies. I have so much fun writing for Rio's smartass.

[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 13: Option | 6.3k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, making out, smut, top!Natasha, Natasha has a penis, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, fingering (r receiving), arguing, cursing, hostage taking, drugging and kidnapping (I really don't wanna add this because it's a huge spoiler lol)

Author's Note: I added additional details on chapter 12 a few days ago after it was posted, so for those who have already read chapter 12, you might want to read it again because you might have read the unupdated version.

I am not a ballerina nor a professional one, I just wrote what I have researched so pls excuse my stupid mistakes here. This is not proofread and I wrote this chapter in a rush ;')) we are here to burn the slow xD and finally answer who's a lot better? Your vibrator or Natasha?

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You began to back away, contemplating your next move and your instinctive act of kissing her. Natasha suddenly took hold of you, her sly hands slipping gently on your lower back. She then pulled you back to her, pulling you into a passionate, heated kiss. This time it's not just a lingering kiss on the cheek, not just for a fraction of a second.

The kiss grew more passionate and heated with each passing second. You found yourself moaning against Natasha's mouth, the sounds escaping your lips involuntarily.

There was an undeniable hunger and need in the way Natasha's tongue fought for dominance in your mouth, and you let her have it, giving her control as she ravaged you with her lips—almost as if she couldn't get enough of you. You could only grip her shoulders, thumbs digging into her neck creating a crescent mark in her skin.

Natasha pulled away suddenly, her lips leaving you—leaving you wanting more. You almost chased her mouth, the string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Her gaze upon you was calm and collected, but beneath the surface, you can see the hunger and the dark desire in her eyes. She looked at you as if you were her last meal and she was starving. Her gaze landed on your agape plump mouth again.

“What if you could be all those three at once?”

You looked at her, still trying to catch your breath after the hungry kiss, “What?”

“You heard me.” She husked, her mouth inch closer to yours.

“Wh—” you breathe, “What do you mean?”

She leaned in dangerously closer, her voice dropping to a more sultry tone as she responded, “Well, I suppose it's my job to make sure you don't have to resort to those two options of yours. After all, I wouldn't want you becoming someone else's trophy.”

You felt a shiver course through you as her hand traced down the curve of your back, her touch electric against your skin as she pulled you even closer that you can feel the bulge against her jeans.

“But I’ll offer you a third option,” she continued, her tongue darted out in a swift second, slowly licking her lips as if savoring the remnants you left in her mouth. “You can be all those three at once. A degree holder which you already are, and…”

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

The offer were bold and unexpected, yet somehow, they felt right coming from her mouth.

And only a dumb person would decline that offer.

Your breath coming in sharp pants as you look up at her, your eyes captivated by her dilated pupils and parted lips.

“I…I’m a virgin, Nat…” you stuttered in a whisper, your cheeks turning red at your admission.

“That’s not what I asked of you, detka…” her piercing green eyes studying you in a way that made your heart race faster than normal. “But if you're gonna be my wife, I guess I’ll have to know that.”

“I’m gonna ask you again…” her eyes never left yours, you can feel her breath fanning over your lips.

“Can you be my personal stripper and my trophy wife?”

She actually didn't have to ask, again.

You couldn't resist anymore. You surged forward, pulling Natasha into a fierce kiss. Your lips crashed together as your tongues danced in an intimate embrace. You locked your arms around her neck as she scooped your ass up, wrapping your legs around her waist. She carried you over until you could feel the cold pole against your back.

Natasha's lips moved down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Her breath was hot against your skin as she teased you with soft nips and licks. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making it hard for you to keep still.

She slowly lowered you back to your feet, her hands now working to unbutton your silk top.

With your top completely off, Natasha let her gaze wander down your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin. Her eyes gleamed with desire as she traced her fingers along the edge of your lace bra.

"You're so fucking beautiful, detka."

And with that, your bra is completely out of your body.

Natasha's hands were now on your breasts, caressing and kneading them as if trying to memorize every inch of your body.

“Is this okay? Detka?” She asked, eyeing you for any sign of discomfort.

“Please, Nat. Make me yours.”

And she did.

Natasha immediately leaned down, her mouth replacing her fingers on your nipple. She sucked and teased it with her tongue, causing you to arch my back with pleasure.

Her mouth was all over you, her tongue tracing a hot, wet path down your body. She moved your legs open and lowered herself between your legs that made you shudder. When she's finally kneeling down in front of you, you let her tug your silk pajamas together with your panties until they're pooling down your feet. She then brought your right leg over her shoulder.

She looked up at you with those piercing dilated green orbs before her tongue flicked against your clit.

“Oh fuck!” Both of your hands gripped her braided hair tightly from the pleasure as she continued to lap you.

Natasha pulled back from you for a moment, her lips glistening with your arousal. “You taste heavenly,” she purred, her voice husky with desire as she locked eyes with you. Her gaze was intense and full of hunger, making you tremble with need.

She brought herself back into you, moaning and sending even more pleasure through your body as she expertly brought you to the edge. This time she plunged one finger inside you with a hunger that matched your own. You can feel the rough texture of her finger through your core but it was immediately coated with your arousal.

Natasha still managed to smirk as she continued to eat you out, it's just one finger and she could feel your tightness clenching around her finger, pulling her deeper inside. That made her crave for you even more.

It has been so long since you had a vibrator inside you, but this one's not a vibrator and you would do anything to come right now.

Her tongue focused on licking and sucking your clit while her forefinger came in and out of your hole, fingering you in rhythmic thrusts that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oh god, fuck, Natasha!” you gasped, your right hand flew to your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. She's for sure a lot better than any vibrator you had in your whole life.

Natasha's fingers moved faster and deeper, pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The wet sound of her lapping your core and her finger pushing in and out of your tight hole.

“Oh, Nat I’m gonna!”

And you finally lost all control, crying out in release as your orgasm overtook you. Your body shook and trembled, every muscle tensed as you rode out the waves of pleasure Natasha brought you.

Natasha swiftly pulled your panties and silk pajamas back in place as she stood. You were still high from pleasure and the only thing that keeps you steady is the pole behind you. Your hands are still tangled in her hair and she's now in front of you, she eyed you as she slowly licked her lips and her arousal coated finger. Despite you being high in pleasure, you didn't miss that moment and you could only bite your lip at the sight of her. Your hands moved to her cheeks and desperately pulled her into a kiss, you moaned as you tasted yourself in her mouth.

Natasha gently pulled away and took her leather jacket and let it hang it to your shoulders to cover your bare chest. She now swiftly carried you in a bridal style.

“You did so good for me, detka. So good.” she murmured in your ears, pressing a light kiss against it.

You both left the room, leaving your silk top and lacy bra behind.

⧗

“Maria, we need to tighten up the security,” Natasha said, her voice brooking no argument. “It's not secure if Yelena can just waltz in unannounced like this.”

Maria sighed, crossing her arms, “Did you two talk?”

“If by 'talk' you mean papers scattered on the floor, broken glasses, and a slightly bruised wall,” she responded casually—too casually, “then yes, we talked.”

Maria sighed once again, a sense of weary resignation in her eyes. She had grown up with Natasha, witnessing firsthand the tumultuous relationship between her and her sister. When Natasha had decided to start building her own empire, Maria had been the first one to offer her support—she was even the one who told Natasha to start her own business so she could finally get away from her family.

“There was a change of plans,” Maria confirmed to Natasha, “Is it true that you weren't able to finish the meeting that was held here earlier? Because the associates asked to move to a different location.”

Natasha already knew about this and she nodded in confirmation. It was supposed to be done but your unexpected appearance disrupted the flow of the meeting, but Natasha didn't blame you, though, because she liked the events that followed after that.

If she would have you in that position again—you gripping her hair—pushing and bucking your core down to her mouth as you try to muffle your cries while she eats you out. Hell, she would let you disrupt every meeting she’ll have.

“You good?”

Maria's voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she tried to shake off the thoughts that had been preoccupying her mind just moments ago. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she hastily responded, “Yeah, I'm good.”

Maria just hummed but she clearly knows what's going on in the redhead's mind.

“I had Y/N’s clothes that were left in that room put in the laundry.”

Natasha swallowed a lump on her throat as Maria walked towards her, “You might wanna tie your hair back.”

Natasha's hands instinctively went to her braid, her fingers tangling in the thick strands of hair as she pulled it over her shoulder. The hair tie had already been removed, leaving her braid slightly loose in its end.

“You left this too.” She placed a plain black hair tie on her desk, you might have accidentally tugged it while you two…

“Damn, Nat I didn't know that's the purpose of the room you asked me. I thought it was a studio or something.” Maria raised a brow before heading to Natasha's office door.

“Hey! It-it is a studio!” Natasha couldn't help but feel a little defensive as Maria teased her. She tried to maintain her composure, although the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed the things that were going into her mind.

She made it for you, it is a studio, at least that's how she planned it to be.

“Sure…sure, but I wouldn't get shocked if it would turn into a sex den.” Maria teased once again, winking at her best friend before she shut the door.

“Hey! Maria! Comeback here!”

⧗

You slowly blink your eyes open, feeling the soft silk of the sheets against your skin. As you push the comforter aside, realization dawns upon you—you're not wearing anything on your top, and Natasha's jacket is lying haphazardly on the pillow beside you.

Memories of the previous night flood your mind, a cocktail of sensations and emotions. You can still feel the remnants of her touch on your skin and the scent of her perfume lingers on the jacket—on you, sending a shiver down your spine.

With wide eyes, you quickly rush towards the full-length mirror in your room. As you look at your reflection, a wave of surprise and a little bit of shock washes over you. The marks on your skin it's like a roadmap outlining Natasha's path along your body.

You carefully trace your fingers down from your neck, tracing the marks that continue down to the valley of your breasts.

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

“Fuck…” you screw your eyes shut at the memories.

Every touch, every caress, every sensation that Natasha had brought out in you came rushing back like a tidal wave. The need for her, the aching desire for her touch, was overwhelming. You closed your eyes tightly, your body instinctively reacting to the recollections of her lips and hands on your skin.

Your eyes scan the table next to your bed, and you spot a white box adorned with red ribbons. Curiosity piqued, you reached out to the box and saw a note tucked into the lid.

“A small trophy, for my wife.”

You bite your lip to the words of Natasha's note. The thought of being marked and claimed in this way awakened a primal part of you that longs to be desired and owned by her.

As you peer inside the box, you find that it contains a single item, a beautiful pair of pink pointe shoes. Your eyes start to glisten with tears as you gently touch the shoe. This one was different, so much more exquisite and perfect compared to the one you had before. Those were cheap, thrift store finds that you had to painstakingly repair and patch up. This new shoe seemed so much... better. It looked elegant and more importantly, it looked comfortable. But you weren't sure if you could wear it; your feet were used to the pain and torture that came with the cheap shoes you usually danced in. You let another tear fall down your cheek before you put the box down and slipped onto some comfortable clothes.

⧗

You had walked to the room Natasha said she made for you, seeking solace and a place to immerse yourself in your dance. An unfamiliar music played softly in the background, a random selection that you didn't recognize but chose to dance to anyway.

As you continued to dance, you looked at the wide wall mirror eyeing your reflection, you observed your movements. The music pulsated through the room, you began to perform a series of ballet moves that you’ve learned on your own. You're a quick learner, you’ve only seen these steps at least once and you can do it neatly in a blink of an eye.

Your body moves with grace and precision. You twirled in elegant pirouettes, extending your leg and pointing your toes during tendus, gracefully arched yourself in arabesques, and leaped through the air with powerful grand jetes. You allow yourself to lose in the movement, each step and twirl flowing effortlessly, your body becoming one with the rhythm and the space around you.

Your dancing was interrupted by the sound of the door opening forcefully. You turned to see Natasha standing at the threshold, her breath labored and her shoulders tensed.

“Natasha?” you ran towards her, your heart in yout throat when you saw the blood seeping through the fabric of her shoulders. The sight stopped you in your tracks and you reached out to touch her, your fingers trembling as they traced over the wetness of the fabric.

“I’ll find Maria.” you said firmly, trying to pull your wrists free from Natasha's grip. But she tugged you back, her eyes pleading with you not to leave her. “No,” she whispered, her was voice broken and vulnerable. “Please don't go. There's a kit behind those speakers," Without a second thought, you ran towards the speakers, moving them aside to reveal a small black case. You opened it up to find bandages, gauze, and painkillers.

Natasha walked slowly towards the pole, her body aching from the injury she had sustained. She sat down heavily, resting her back against the cool metal, and let out a deep sigh of relief, “The shoe fits perfectly?” she asked as she closed her eyes.

“Y-yeah, t-thank you,” you managed to say. And Natasha just hummed but you can feel that she was smiling.

You could feel your mind racing with panic, a million thoughts swirling uncontrollably in your head. Natasha needed you and you are struggling to keep it together. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you ran your hands through your sweaty hair, your heart pounding in your chest.

Natasha opened her eyes and looked at you kneeling in front of her. She could see the fear in your eyes and knew that you were trying to keep it under control. She smiled softly, trying to reassure you, “Come here,” she gently took your arm and pulled you on her lap.

“This seems normal to you.” You huffed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

It is indeed normal for Natasha to walk back from her latest business, her body covered in bruises and scratches, her clothes tattered, and a gunshot wound on her thigh—it's a lifestyle.

She tugged at the fabric of her sleeves, pulling them up to reveal a fresh cut on her arm, she was stabbed. She winced slightly as you began to clean it, her eyes focusing on you as she gently circled her thumbs on your waist.

“Does Maria know about this?” you quivered.

“No, later maybe, yeah,” rambled, groaning as she adjusted herself. Making you move slightly on her lap.

“I need to call her,” you insisted, but Natasha shook her head, digging her fingers on your waist, “No, you're gonna stay here.”

As you finished cleaning her wound, the room fell into a moment of silence. Natasha sat quietly, her gaze unfocused as she took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. You couldn't help but feel a wave of anxiety wash over you, wondering if you were doing everything right.

The silence became too much to bear, and just as you were about to break the tension, Natasha spoke up. “You scared?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. In that moment, all the worry and fear you had been holding back came pouring out.

“Of course I am!”

You harshly wiped the tears that started streaming down your face. Natasha watched you cry, a pained expression in her eyes. She felt guilty, like she was putting you through unnecessary emotional turmoil.

She moved a strand away from your face, “I don't like seeing you like this,” Natasha whispered, so softly that you almost didn't hear her. But the words were enough to make you stop you, your hands frozen in mid-air as you looked at her. Your eyes were puffy and glossy.

“Natasha,” you breathe, “I don't like seeing you like this too,” you managed to say between sobs, you softly jabbed her chest with your finger. You cannot bear to see her in pain too, her going home with wounds, bruises, stabs, gunshots and for her it's nothing? Maybe for her it is, but for you it's not. What if she comes home cold? Lifeless?

“You don't deserve this.”

Now, you huffed hearing it from her, “Taking everything back?” your face hardened into a smirk as you wiped the tears out your face and quickly moved away from her lap. Natasha furrowed her brows, confused at your question. She tried to chase you to make you stay in that position, she wanted you close to her—now you just moved away.

“So you asking me to be your personal stripper and your trophy wife was what?” Your voice trembled slightly as you voiced your thoughts, “Out of lust? To get to me? To use me?” you chuckled slightly.

“Detka, that's not what it is,” her voice cracked, she didn't want you to think that she was just using you. She never intended that.

“You wouldn't wish a life with me!”

“What if I want this, Natasha?” You asked the question before you could even think, “What if I want this? What if I want you, Natasha? What if I want to be with you?” The words tumbled out of your mouth, each one a confession that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You gulped the lump on your throat, turning your back at her as you sob uncontrollably.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed your words. She watched as you turned away from her and her instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she stood despite the pain on her shoulder. Then, she moved closer, her hands gently reaching for your waist.

At first, Natasha was taken aback when you swatted her hands away. You turned to look at her, she saw the clear view of your face—the uncertainty and pain in your eyes, followed by a flash of something else - desire? She didn't think twice as she reached for you again, pulling you closer by your elbows.

“Natasha, no,” your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to move to push her away but Natasha was determined. She pulled you closer still, your face just inches from hers now. Her eyes locked on yours.

“Y/N, don't fight me,” gently, her hands moved down to your cheek and you didn't fight back. Tears started streaming down your face again as you cling to her touch, she looked at you before closing the gap of your lips, pulling you into a searing kiss. She could taste the saltiness of your tears on her lips and it only made her want to hold you tighter, wanting to stay like this with you forever.

You managed to pull away from her and Natasha tried chasing your lips but you immediately stepped back. You stood there for a couple of seconds, waiting for her to say something, you wanted her to say something but no words came out of her mouth.

You wiped your tears away and swallowed a sob before speaking, “I…uhh, I’ll find Maria.” With that, you turned and left the room not daring to look at her because you know what's going to happen if you do.

⧗

You just found clinging to Yelena as she drives her bike away from the manor. You just called Maria to get Natasha and you went into the kitchen when Yelena approached you and proposed an idea, suggesting a ‘little escapade’ as she calls it when she saw you all vulnerable alone after your encounter with her sister. And without hesitation, you found yourself nodding in agreement. The manor had been stifling and you desperately craved a breath of fresh air.

You were easy, too easy.

Yelena stopped the bike at a nearby ice cream place, she turned to you and inquired, “So, where do you wanna go?”

Your response was a nonchalant shrug, not having any specific destination in mind. Sensing your lack of a preference, Yelena grinned. “Let's grab some ice-cream then,” she said, gesturing towards the ice-cream parlor.

Yelena immediately went straight to the counter and placed the order for both of you, not even bothering to ask what you wanted. You sat silently, patiently waiting for her to finish. It was your first time leaving the manor in what felt like forever, and you relished the opportunity to be out and about once again. But as you sat there waiting, your mind began to drift to Natasha once again. Thoughts of her started to plague your mind, you couldn't help but replay the argument in your head, recalling every word and the addicting touch of hers. You tried to make sense of what had happened and how things had spiraled out—how you spiraled out.

You want her, you want to be with her. You long to hear the simple words that she used to soothe your worries and fears, that you just have to stay and be with her and no harm will come after you. Yet, deep down, maybe you yearned for more than just those words, maybe you wanted her to say the same thing—that she wants you and she wants to be with you.

“Ice-cream for your thoughts?” Yelena waved the ice-cream cone on your face, pulling you out of your deep thoughts of her sister.

You immediately took it and walked out of the ice-cream parlor and Yelena walked after you, “How much do I owe you?” You asked.

“Why? Do you have money with you?” She asked back, huffing knowing that you have none.

“No,” you replied quietly, savoring the taste of the strawberry ice cream. “I only have a black dress, a pair of heels, and a knife,” you mumbled. “And lingerie,” you added as an afterthought.

In truth, you barely had anything that was truly your own. All you had were the clothes you had worn the night you worked at Valkyrie's and that's everything you got since ending up in Natasha's penthouse.

After finishing your ice cream, you saw a nearby library. And you made a bold request, despite your attempts to keep your facade of aloofness intact. You tried to maintain a certain distance from Yelena. Yes, you accepted her ‘little escapade’ but that doesn't mean that you had forgotten how she had treated you since the day you two met. Her harsh attitude and scathing insults still echoed in your mind and you couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment and wariness whenever you were near her. But right now, you have no time for that, you want peace and a breather.

“I want to go inside,” you said, your voice betraying a hint of pleading despite your efforts to sound indifferent. “Please.”

“You look cute when you beg.”

Irritation flared in you at Yelena's mocking tone and teasing words. You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, you licked your thumb after you finished your ice-cream to get the small crumbs left of the cone. With doe eyes, you stared at her that caused her to almost choke at her ice-cream.

“Yeah, thanks, your sister hears it a lot,” you replied with a wink, before crossing the street towards the direction of the library leaving her behind.

“Zlyushchaya suka.” (Feisty bitch) She whispered under breath before running after you.

As you entered the library, the aroma of old books and the hush of whispered conversations enveloped you. You approached the counter and without wasting any time, you signed your name on the guest book, eager to immerse yourself in the library's collection of books. Yelena followed suit, walking over to the counter and casually scratching her name onto the page.

As you maneuvered through the library, you were drawn to a section filled with the works of Emily Dickinson. Your eyes landed on her collection, and a sense of comfort washed over you. You had a deep fondness for the poet's work, and you eagerly reached out to pick up one of her books.

Yelena, meanwhile, was casually browsing nearby. When she saw what book you had chosen, her eyes widened momentarily,

“You read Dickinson too?”

“Wild nights, wild nights, were I with thee wild nights should be, our luxury…” You lazily recited just to prove her that you do read Dickinson's works. You grabbed a book that caught your eye and walked towards the blonde, you placed it on the top of the book she's reading.

“Grumpy Monkey,” Yelena read the title to herself. Her mouth agaped slightly offended at what you did, she immediately immersed herself to look for a perfect book to give you.

Yelena approached you with a cocky smirk, slamming a book onto the table. With a hint of mockery in her tone, she asked, “You live there?” you looked at the book entitled: Bitch Planet, Volume 1: Extraordinary Machine

You flashed a book in her face, as if you're ready for this, “Mr. Author Lewis here wants to give you an advice on how to raise your I.Q.” She read the title in her mind, How to Raise Your I.Q. by Eating Gifted Children.

“Okay, that’s alarming,” Yelena pointed out, which made you giggle. She returned to look for more books and spotted a book with a hilariously controversial title. She couldn't resist the urge to call out to you in a loud whisper, waving the book in her hand. “Hey, hey!”

Eating People is Wrong you read, despite the distance between you, Yelena's infectious laughter managed to reach your ears. Her boisterous chuckle filled the library, causing a few heads to turn in your direction. You immediately shush her causing the blonde to slowly and pretend to look for a book to read.

“Games You Can Play with Your Pussy; and Lots of Other Stuff Cat Owners Should Know.” You read in disgust and you turned to look at Yelena who was sitting in front of you, her eyes watered as she fought back the tears forming in her eyes, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Terrible book title,” you remarked. She pulled another one that made you roll your eyes, did she really just collect books with controversial, alarming and terrible titles?

You sighed as you read the title again. “Still Stripping After 25 Years,” you gasped, which made Yelena slap the table, still trying not to burst into laughter. You didn't even read the blurb of the book before you judged, “They should not put this in a public library!” You whisper-shouted.

“Okay, that's enough,” you chastised her, she was sitting on her seat in an almost slouching manner and you found yourself crossing your arms across your chest as you raised a questioning brow at her but she instantly straightened up and adjusted her vest.

It feels like you're with a kid, honestly.

“I like your vest.”

Yelena’s eyes widened at your compliment, “I just absolutely love vests with lots of pockets. They're so practical, and they just have that perfect blend of style and function, you know?” she giddily rambled. You just hummed as you flipped the book you’re reading.

“It's actually Natasha’s,” the revelation made you look at her, “I took all her clothes when she left.”

“How long has it been since she left? If you don't mind me asking…” you inquired carefully, hoping that you didn't cross any line.

“18 years, papa made her manage the business with him at 16 then she left when she was 19.”

“She started that young?” Yelena just hummed, her energy immediately dropping down.

“You know, your sister loves you,” Yelena immediately eyed you after you said those words, “Even though you always come around her property with no invitations,” you chuckled as you closed the book that you had no plans on finishing reading.

She just shook her head slightly as if she's trying to focus her mind and remove thoughts in her brain.

She hates you, she reminded herself.

“Let's go out, go for a walk.” You gave her a smile and grabbed her hand, the closeness making the blonde guilty.

As you and Yelena stepped outside the library, you noticed a small box on the sidewalk, filled with six adorable puppies, each of them looking at you with curious eyes. A $20 sign hung over the box, indicating that they were for sale. Poor adorable puppies just being sold?

Yelena's phone suddenly vibrated from her pocket, causing her to break away from your grasp. She looked at you apologetically and told you that she will just get it for a second. You nodded and informed her that you will go see the puppies, you pointed the direction so she'll know where you are before you both went your separate ways.

“The delivery should be done in 15 minutes, we’ve waited for so long.”

Yelena's heart dropped as she saw the text on the small screen. Guilt and dread, that's what she feels right now. She made a huge mistake on getting too close to you, this wasn't supposed to happen, she never intended to let her guard down and warm up to you.

She hated the fact that you have no crumb of flaws in you, well yes, of course you have your own flaws but it's not enough for her to hate. She tried testing you as if she was digging the pandora's box, it's nowhere to be found. She can't find any reason to hate you.

And she hate you for that. She hates you, she did. She hated you.

Yelena's heart raced as she desperately searched for you, but you were nowhere in sight. She spotted a two black van meters away from her and panic gripped her as she frantically looked for you. But suddenly, she saw you waving at her, a small puppy cradled in your arms. She immediately ran towards your direction.

“Can we get this puppy for Natasha? You know your sister always wanted a pup—”

You were taken aback when Yelena withdrew a wad of cash from her pocket and swiftly pulled out a $100 bill. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed your arm and quickly yanked you away from the scene, she wasn't even able to get her change.

“I need to get you back to the manor.”

The golden retriever puppy was whining in your arms and you cooed it even though you're being dragged by the blonde.

Yelena's panic intensified as her gaze darted anxiously in different directions. She noticed the same van she saw earlier moving slowly, following closely behind the both of you. Her focus shifted to you, and she watched you coo at the puppy in your arms, blissfully unaware of the danger that was trailing behind. Yelena's heart wrenched as she realized that she had never intended for things to take this turn—with you.

Yelena fished out her motorcycle keys from her pocket. She quickly straddled the bike and turned on the ignition.

“Get in.”

Despite her brusque tone, you quickly obeyed her and swung your leg over the bike, settling in behind her. Suddenly, without any warning, she gunned the engine and the motorcycle shot forward, taking off like a rocket down the street. The small puppy in your arms gave a slight yelp, startled by the sudden movement. You instinctively cradled the furry bundle closer to your body.

“Can you drive slow?” you asked worrily as you try to balance yourself in the bike, you weren't holding anything for support just the little puppy in your arms.

As Yelena prepared to turn the corner, her eyes widened in horror as she suddenly saw a van blocking the road and she can't just maneuver around it. Yelena's heart raced, and she had no choice but to hit the brakes, bringing the motorcycle to a skidding halt. The puppy in your arms whimpered softly at the sudden stop. Yelena considered backtracking, but her hopes were dashed as she saw the van that had been pursuing you earlier was now blocking the return path as well.

“Yelena? What's happening?” You asked as you were practically being trapped by the two vans.

Yelena could only grip on the handlebars at your question, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. She didn't give an immediate answer, her gaze flickering between the van that blocked your path and the one behind, trying to figure out a way out. After a minute of contemplating, she gave up.

“Just stay here. I'm sorry.” Yelena told you, you nodded slightly as you adjusted yourself in the seat of her bike.

Why is she apologizing?

Yelena dismounted the motorcycle and slowly approached the van. The driver's door opened and a bald burly, threatening-looking man stepped out, a hardened scowl on his face.

The bald man's voice lowered into a menacing growl as he confronted Yelena. “You tryna run away from us?”

“No.”

The man's expression darkened and he took a step closer to her. “Give us the girl now,” he demanded, leaving no room for negotiation, though this is a negotiation.

In a snap Yelena seized the burly man and she held him like a shield, using him as a means to keep the others at bay. As the other men started to exit the van, their faces hardened and their hands reaching for their weapons, Yelena's eyes darted from one to the other.

“Let the girl go and I'll let this bald-headed demon man go.”

“Yelena what's happening?” You called out to her in a whimper.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. Please come here.”

You immediately obeyed her command, slowly stepping off the bike and moving closer to her. As you did so, you turned around, trying to keep an eye on the men who were approaching from behind.

As you stood behind Yelena, the weight of the situation started to sink in. Your heart pounded in your chest and fear gripped you. You clutched the puppy tightly, its small form shaking slightly in your arms. Panic coursed through your veins and you couldn't help but look around, searching for a way out or any sign of help. “Y-Yelena?” you stuttered.

“Y/N, forgive me. I promise I’ll get you back to Natash—”

She wasn't able to finish her words when she suddenly dropped to the ground, unconscious after being shot with a tranquilizer the men had fired at her. Your heart froze and you could barely comprehend what was happening.

“Yelena!” Your voice was filled with anguish as you called out to her, tears streaming down your face.

The man she has been holding captive earlier stalked towards you and yanked you by your arm. The suddenness of the grab made you release your hold on the puppy. The man's eyes roamed over your body and ripped your top, he quickly inspected your shoulders. Satisfied with what he saw, he glanced up at the other men and shouted, “This is the one!”

“Yelena!” you hollered as the man wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you. Even in your disoriented state, your survival instincts kicked in. With all the strength you could muster, you tried to fight back against the man who was holding you.

“Fuck you!” You growled, you spat at the face of the man, he was really enraged as he wipe the spit on his face but when he poised to strike you a man intervened grasping his wrist.

“We cannot leave no marks on her,” he calmly said, a sinister smile starting to form on his face.

“Fuck you too!” You shouted, the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you a momentary burst of courage.

He smirked at how feisty you are but he then shushed you and pressed a cloth over your nose and mouth, “You've brought us in so much trouble already, you're gonna pay for it.”

You never stopped to fight back but your limbs started to flail weakly, your attempts to kick and struggle against them proving futile.

The world blurred around you as tears streamed down your face, your voice hoarse from crying out Yelena's name once more before everything started to fade away and the last thing you saw was the small puppy nudging Yelena's unconscious body.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[mxltifxnd0m]

pillowtalk ☼ s. winchester

summary: a morning spent in sam's arms

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 2.2K

warnings: no use of y/n, not beta'd, fluff, sam's morning voice (yes its a warning), suggestive themes, spicy, implied smut but no actual smut, but for this fic: MINORS DNI

a/n: this was birthed out of god knows where but was inspired by that photo above and I love sammy so much (also this came out a little more smutty than I intended LOL)

bestie mari @prentissluvr i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing this last night 🤭

please reblog and lmk your thoughts and opinions!! i wanna hear what you guys thought about the fic!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The soft rays of sunlight filtered through the room as the sun rose for the incoming day. The light hit your eyes, and you inhaled deeply as you prepared to open your eyes. You could feel the light breeze flowing into the room from the open window of the balcony. You were about to roll over to Sam's side of the bed, thinking it would be empty, but then felt the warmth of his bare chest.

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times before tilting your head up and finding Sam's eyes already on you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the flecks of brown and gold within the green of his gaze. Then your eyes moved from his to the mole near his left eye, the slope of his nose, and to his mouth, a tender smile dancing on his lips as you felt him cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against it.

"Morning." Sam's voice was soft and low, sounding a little hoarse from just waking up.

Oh god, his voice. You thought to yourself as you felt some heat begin to brew in your core. The deep rasp of Sam's voice filled the mostly silent room.

"How long have you been up?" Your own voice had a faint rasp to it.

"Not long."

You mirrored his smile. "Has anyone told you staring is rude Winchester?"

Sam chuckled lowly, making your chest fill with warmth. "Yes, but I can't help but look at my pretty girl in the morning."

You felt yourself flush at the compliment. Even if you and Sam have been together for a while now, you would never get used to hearing Sam saying the sweetest things to you.

Your smile grew wider. "Who knew Sam Winchester was such a sucker for me," You teased before leaning forward to give him a soft kiss on his lips.

You felt Sam's smile widen and pulled back slightly. "I always will be," He murmured against your lips before melting into the kiss.

It soon turned passionate as kisses with Sam always did. You adjusted yourself so you were laying on top of Sam, chest to chest, almost hovering over him as your legs fell beside his hips and so that your neck wasn't being strained from the awkward angle you were in.

Sam's hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, and you felt his tongue swiping at the seam of your lips, but you broke away from him before he could.

You opened your eyes to find Sam's slightly swollen lips in a pout, and the hand that was on your neck was trying to pull you back to his lips. You chuckled at the puppy dog look he was giving you.

"Morning breath," You explained as to why you broke away from the kiss.

Sam frowned. "Don't care." He continued to give his puppy dog look combined with his (adorable) pout.

Despite almost giving in (the look that he gave you nearly worked every time), you rolled your eyes as you pulled away from him and sat up, straddling him. He let his hand fall from your neck as you sat up, his hands finding your naked thighs. You glanced at the digital clock on the nearest nightstand, '6:39 AM'.

You looked back at Sam. "You going to run today?"

He shook his head, his hair moving as it fanned out against the white cotton of the pillow sheets.

You gasped dramatically, your hand shooting to your chest. "Sam Winchester choosing not to go out on his morning run? Alert the press! Samuel Will-"

You were cut off by a sharp yelp escaping your mouth as your world tilted suddenly. You were on your back, with Sam's hands settling beside your head, making the pillow sink and hovering over you with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Were you just about to say my full government name?" Sam questioned, his tone barely concealing the mirth within it.

You nodded, your face taking on a serious expression. "Yes. The world needs to know that you're willingly skipping your daily morning run."

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. "Well, someone planned this vacation, and I think I can skip a day or two of running."

When you proposed the idea of a vacation, he was very resistant to the idea, not wanting to leave Dean alone to hunt. The three of you were hunting constantly, barely staying at the bunker for a day or two before getting back in the Impala and going to a different state to kill another monster.

As much as you loved Dean, you wanted to spend some time with Sam alone, just the two of you. Sharing a motel room with his brother didn't afford any privacy as well. Besides, by the time you guys finished with a hunt and got back to the bunker, you and Sam were exhausted and had collapsed in bed.

You just wanted a break from hunting and wanted to spend time with your boyfriend without the company of his brother, so you came up with the idea of a vacation. It took a lot of convincing on your part, but Sam's stubbornness almost won out every time you brought up the word vacation.

It took you, Dean, Jody, and even Garth to convince him that a vacation wouldn't hurt. But he'd only go if Dean promised that he wouldn't hunt without a partner, which he easily agreed to (you could have kissed Dean for agreeing to Sam's terms).

You raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him.

Sam's mouth fell open slightly. "You don't believe me?"

"You went running yesterday, the day before, and the day we got here."

Sam opened his mouth to respond before closing it. You grinned at the lack of response from the man above you.

"I'm glad that I can prove you wrong and render you speechless with a single sentence." You cooed, pinching one of Sam's cheeks like a grandmother would greeting her grandchild.

Sam gently slapped your hand away with a slight scowl on his face, making you laugh. Sam was still hovering over you, and his expression soon changed from a scowl to a smirk. You saw his eyes glint with mischief, making you stop laughing.

You knew what that smirk meant. "Samuel, no." You said warningly.

Sam continued to smirk as he went from hovering over you to straddling your hips. Before you knew it, you erupted into giggles, Sam attacking your sides with his hands, poking and tickling you.

You thrashed around in the bed, kicking your feet, trying to get away from Sam, but it was fruitless.

Sam's melodic laughter joined yours as it filled the room. You were yelling at him to stop, but he continued to tickle you. It was almost impossible to get Sam's large frame off of you; he was just a wall of muscle, and he had the advantage.

"S-Sam! Pl-please st-opp!" You could barely get the words out. Tears lined your vision as you tried to squirm away from Sam's relentless hands.

"What are the magic words?" Sam asked. You could hear the amusement coating his words. The son of a bitch you called your boyfriend was enjoying this a little too much.

"I-I do-n't k-know! P-please?!" You all but shrieked.

Sam's hands finally pulled away from your body, and you felt like you could finally breathe. You took in gulps of air as you tried to catch your breath. Your sides hurt from the sudden tickle attack.

"The magic word was actually angel blade. But I wanted to be nice." You scowled up at the smug look on your boyfriend's face.

"I wish I had packed one so I could use it on you."

Sam let out a laugh at your words that shook his entire body. His bare chest was shaking with laughter. You couldn't help but grin at one of your favorite sounds that came from him.

At this point, the sun rose further up in the sky and filled the room with its golden light, highlighting Sam's features and giving him an ethereal glow.

He's so beautiful. Your smile turned softer as you watched him laugh. As you admired him, you noticed that he looked younger when he laughed, his head thrown back and the corner of his eyes crinkled with joy.

When he had calmed down, the broad smile on his face never faltered, and the tenseness that he always seemed to hold fell off his shoulders as he looked at you with his hazel eyes. Sam looked visibly lighter when he was relaxed, and he didn't have to look over his shoulder to see if there was any danger.

You tried to shift up the bed so your back was resting on the headboard. Sam lifted himself to allow you to move, and once you were settled, he shuffled forward to straddle you again.

It would look comical to anyone who saw the two of you in this position. Sam was practically twice your size as he straddled your smaller frame. But this was normal for the two of you. Your hands moved from the bed to rest on Sam's hips, your thumbs swiping against his hipbones that weren't covered by the boxers that he was wearing.

"So, no run today?" You asked again.

Sam nodded. "No run today. But..." He trailed off, leaning closer to you and resting his forehead on yours.

"But?" You asked him, your eyes half-lidded as your lips brushed against his.

"I know another way to get my cardio in." You felt Sam's lips stretch into a smirk.

You hummed in response. "Oh really? How so?"

Sam kissed you hard in response, not wasting a second before his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips and dived into your mouth. A low whine escaped you as Sam's tongue swiped against yours. Your hands wandered from his hips and up his bare chest, feeling his muscles clench as your hands roamed his torso.

Sam grunted against your lips as your hands made their way to his pecs and teased his nipples with your thumbs.

He broke the kiss. "You're playing with fire." Sam grumbled as he trailed his kisses down your jaw. You chuckled in response and took the chance to flip your positions. You moved your hands up his shoulders, lifted your hips up, and turned quickly.

Sam let a quiet 'oof' escape his lips from the abrupt move, the springs of the bed creaking a little, but before he could say anything, you straddled him and smashed your lips against his. You felt his hands land on your waist before they slid down to your ass and squeezed it. It made you grind against the bulge that was growing in his boxers.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to the nape of his neck and tugged at the short hairs at the back of it, making him growl against your lips and nip at your bottom lip. His kisses trailed across your jaw and down your neck, his scruff scratching at your skin slightly.

Quiet moans left your mouth as Sam sucked and nipped at your neck, and his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. He pulled away slightly to pull your (his) shirt off of you, leaving you in only your underwear. Sam's gaze felt like it was burning you as he stared at your bare torso, focusing on your heaving chest. His gaze traveled up to your spit-slicked swollen lips before meeting your eyes.

Sam's calloused hands moved to settle on your sides, his thumbs just resting on the underside of your breasts. His eyes were filled with love and desire. Sam leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours.

"I love you." He whispered.

You smiled at his words. "I know."

Sam pulled back slightly and groaned at your words. "You seriously didn't just quote Han Solo at me."

You laughed at Sam's reaction. "I did." You grinned cheekily at him.

Sam shook his head at you. "You're ridiculous."

"Yet you love me anyways."

"Yeah, I do."

You leaned closer to him. "Happy Anniversary."

Sam's eyes went so wide you'd think they fell out. You could see the panic run through him.

"It's fine, Sam." You chuckled at his bug-eyed look.

"I forgot our anniversary." Guilt filled his features.

You brushed a lock of hair out of Sam's face, your hand resting on his cheek. "Sam, honey. It's fine. I had a feeling you'd forget, so that's why I wanted to plan this trip."

"But-" You shushed him.

"We had a lot of stuff on our plate with hunting, and honestly, all I wanted for you to do is relax."

Sam still didn't look convinced; his lips pulled into a thin line.

"Sammy, it's fine. You don't have to worry about a gift or anything. Your gift to me can be you finally not worrying about research or killing monsters, okay?" You reassured him with a gentle smile.

You knew that he'd beat himself over not remembering or getting you a gift. Sam pressed his lips together before nodding.

"Fine. I'll make it up to you in a different way then."

Your head tilted to one side as your small smile turned into a curious one. "How?"

Sam flipped the two of you over. Your bare back hit the mattress again with Sam hovering over you, wearing a devilish smirk.

"By keeping you in this bed and making sure you're not able to walk when I'm done with you."

[webbluvrsugar]

okokok first up thinking about: ethan keeping you away from act 3 by less than morally sound means… drugging, kidnapping, convincing you to run away with him, (etc.) dealers choice!!!

*sorry if this is really broad, i wanted to leave room for creativity + i’m also on a bus home rn so i’m a little delirious lol but i’ll think of some more stuff to send your way when i’m home bc it’s time for ethan to come home for halloween the kids miss him😖*

a/n: faeeee you always be giving me the best requestsss, and also yes omggg Jack come home, there’s a kid waiting for you!!!

Ethan not-so-subtly “putting you to sleep” to protect you.

“I’ll take care of her, promise, just don’t touch her!” Was what he said to Quinn when they had a massive argument about you.

She called him soft, that he was falling for you.

Soft? Him? No, he was just fooling you, mocking you, you were the stupid one here, not him, you were the one who fell for him, he certainly doesn’t love you. He just… enjoys spending some time with you, enjoys kissing you maybe, sometimes he may even find pleasure in fucking you.

But he’s not growing soft and he is not falling in love… yet he finds it weird why he wants to protect you so much.

It’s getting even harder because you won’t fall for his bullshit excuses, you won’t fall for “Oh, they all cancelled, why don’t we stay in tonight?” or “I just wanna hang out with you instead.” so he has to get creative, lately he’s been putting sedatives in your drinks, that green smoothie of yours, — not morally correct, yeah, but so isn’t shoving a knife in your best friend’s guts, whoops, he’ll apologise later — the problem is that you’ve began to notice.

“Dunno, I just have been feeling a lot sleepier lately.” You mention, he sits beside you on the couch, watching you take clueless sips of your juice. “Do you think I’ve gotten the wrong powder? Maybe it has some random side-effects I don’t know about.”

His hand drives itself to your thigh, slightly flexes on top of your skin. “Have you read the full ingredients?”

“Top to bottom.” You huff, lean your shoulder into him.

“What about the side-effects? Does it mention anything about it?” He portrays himself as the perfect boyfriend, just trying to help you and your sudden tiredness, luckily, you fall for it.

“No, not really.” You sink even more into his shoulder, your vision already looking hazy.

“Huh… that’s weird…” he glances sideways at you, watching the way you make yourself comfortable, his arm leaves your thigh to wrap around you waist.

“Mhm..” you yawn, he bites down a smirk.

It’s like you don’t even notice, like you’re so clueless, but he likes you this way, maybe he’ll even succeed in his plan if he just keeps doing it.

He sees the how you allow your eyes to fall shut, how you trust him so much that you don’t mind getting this vulnerable next to him — it’s cute.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He mutters, his hand slightly caressed your exposed skin.

He will in fact be here when you wake up.

But before that, he’ll make sure you’re comfortable in bed and go out to try and shoot Tara’s brains out.

[the-kr8tor]

lavender + ❣️ with Jason todd where they are at the manor after being out ( prob shopping or smth) and he confesses his love bc a bunch of guys were asking for readers number but she turned them all down and he wanted to be hers and was tired of guys bothering his (soon to be) girl. Hopefully this makes sense lol but you totally don't have to do this. I love you and hope you have an amazing week!! 😘😘

Yay a Jason req! Thank you for being patient! I hope you like your potion 🩷

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader/ Red Hood x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mention, Best friends to lovers, Fluff

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Jason has been uncharacteristically quiet the entire drive to the manor. He doesn't even tap his fingers to the rhythm of the radio playing a cheesy pop song that he keeps telling you that he doesn't like. With one hand he steers the wheel while his elbow rests on the window sill. It's a cool afternoon in Gotham, orange and pink hues shifting along the clouds, the road is still wet from the downpour a few hours ago. His drenched jacket that he used to shield you both from the rain hangs over the backseat.

You watch him with pensive eyes, wracking your brain as to why he's so quiet when he was such a chatterbox back when he was driving to the grocery store. You've almost forgotten what he was talking about, mind reeling from the conclusion that you might've done something to agitate your best friend. Maybe you shouldn't have volunteered to go on a grocery run when Alfred asked, especially that you and Jason planned to hang out at your place. Biting the inside of your cheek, you try to remember what happened at the store to warrant such a stifling silence from Jason— Well, he opened the door for you while he was talking about that new book he was so excited to read. Then he grabbed a cart, pushed it while you had your hand on the end, guiding him, and all the while you two kept chattering on the aisle, taking stuff that was on Alfred's list. And then that was it. Nothing special happened, well except for that one guy with a nice smile who asked you where the cereal was. And that one dude who helped you take the can of beans from the highest shelf while Jason was weighing the blueberries.

You must've looked quite agitated or even constipated because it's now Jason's turn to worry.

“Are you okay? You look like you need to take a shit.” He glances briefly to you, green eyes hiding an emotion you're still trying to ascertain.

“Am I okay? Jay, you're the one who's been silent the entire way.” He enters the manor's gates, shrugging at your words. “We can still hang out at my place after this. I'm sorry we wasted an afternoon buying Damian's sweets.”

There's a small smile on his lips, “that kid eats too much sugar.” Clicking his seatbelt off, he opens the door with a groan, you surmise that his healing knee is still bothering him.

You sigh, getting more anxious at his dodging. Before you could open the door for yourself, you find Jason outside of your door, opening it for you. “C’mon, Jay, talk to me.” Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you smile up at him. “Is it because I ate the donut you left in my fridge?”

Jason furrows his brows, lips pursed, trying not to laugh. “That was yours, babe, I left it for you.”

You blink, hand drifting away from his shirt. He already misses your hold on him. “Oh, thanks.”

“You and Dami share a sweet tooth, so I got it for you.” He leans down, arm placed atop the car, eyes soft and tender. “But thank you for confessing your sins.”

You can't help but ogle at how he looks from below. “...yeah, sure, Jay.” You say in a small tone. It's not the nickname that has you all giddy inside, you're used to his sweet nicknames that he has bestowed upon you. No, it's the thought that he left you a treat because he knows how much you love that triple chocolate donut that has you bouncing off the walls after eating it.

So it's not the donut, then why the hell does he have a stick up his finely toned ass?

Jason leaves your side, the cologne you bought him lingering around you. He opens the trunk, carrying every single plastic bag with both hands. You finally stand up after being weak in the knees after the simple look he gave you. Walking towards him to help, he's already halfway inside the mansion before you could grab a few bags from him. Knowing him, it's all effortless. Well, at least he left you one tiny bag that only contains two boxes of cereal— one regular wheat and one that has your tooth rotting just from looking at the bright colors. With a sigh, you grab it and follow him inside and towards the kitchen.

The plastic bags rustle as he takes out all the groceries. It's filled with fresh vegetables, fruits, sugar and all the food that a vigilante needs for patrol. You put your singular bag on the counter next to the others, helping him take out the rest while he still stands there all quiet and broody. In the low light of the kitchen you can clearly see that Bruce has definitely made a big influence on him.

You put your foot down, knees up on the stool to level with him, hands placed on the cold marble countertop as he raises a curious brow at you. “What's up, Jay?”

“What's up?” He mimics your tone. “Nothing, babe, just taking out the groceries.” You take the can of beans from his hand and then you place it loudly on the counter while you take a stance against the red hood who makes goons cower in fear just from his stare. “You really want to know?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, reaching over the counter to grab his hand. Wordlessly telling him that you're there for him whatever kind of problem has plagued him recently.

Jason watches as your fingers dance along his scarred palm, kneading his muscles just like you always do whenever he drops in your apartment after a tough patrol. He was so sure that he had gathered enough courage to tell you, but now that you have your hands around his own, all his bravery is down the drain.

He sucks in his teeth, leaning down, elbows atop the counter, green eyes staring anywhere near your eyes, and then he places a quick kiss along your knuckles. Warmth soothing you, almost making you forget what you were asking for.

Defeated, you cup his jaw, thumb running along his growing stubble, fingers reaching behind his ear to rub lovingly across his nape. “Okay, it's okay if you don't want to tell me. But I'll be here if you want to tell me.” You smile when he leans against your touch, eyes looking at you with such fondness that you almost melt on the spot.

Jason rationalizes his thoughts, the same thoughts that have plagued him for years, the same thoughts that he has dreamed of telling you. “It’s not the donut.”

“Of course it's not the donut.” You chuckle, fingers still tangled in his hair.

“And it's not because of the trip to the grocery store.” His eyes flick over to yours, smiling softly at how you look back at him with the same fondness. “I liked our trip, I kept imagining that we were buying stuff for our place.”

“Do you want more hangouts like that then? You can join me in going to my laundry place. We can watch the clothes tumble and dry like a couple of old people.” Your waist is cold against the counter, but you don't mind as long as he's there with you. “How's that sound?”

“Sounds great. I'll bring the spare change.” You chuckle, after a beat, you thought that was the end of it, but Jason looks like he still wants to say something else— so you stay rooted in place. “But that's not the reason.”

“Okay,” you nod, encouraging him to continue. He gives you his other hand to hold, fingers beckoning your touch. You indulge him, leaving his hair to hold his hand.

“It's that fucking guy.” He blurts out. “Guys.” He corrects himself.

“What guys?”

“The ones who were asking for your number.”

You blink, trying to recall. “I don't remember that.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He squeezes your hands as if that will help you remember them. “The tall blonde guy and the one with the uncanny smile. Just thinking about that grin gives me the creeps.”

“Oh,” you know Jason enough to actually know what he means. “Yeah, I actually remember now. What about them?”

He scoffs, acting like you caught his hand in the cookie jar. “They were bothering you is all. I was just worried for you.”

You nod, hands sliding from his own. For a moment, Jason thinks you're about to go off on him, telling him that you can handle yourself or that you can give your number to whoever the hell you want to. Because who is he to tell you who to date? It's not like you're together, right? But is it wrong that he wants to?

His thoughts get thrown out of the window when you hold his face, soft palms against his rough skin, thumb tracing along the scar on his cheek. It's all affectionate, loving, and it has Jason's heart pumping a thousand times per second.

You smile, head tilting, staring at how his eyes glow under the kitchen lights. It's mundane, but you love him like this, just like how you love him in any way shape or form. You love your best friend. “You're an idiot, Jason Todd.” Your smile gets bigger, he frowns, fearing the worst. “You know that I'm in love with you, right?”

Jason's worried eyes light up, not a trace of his worries, just you in his vision, bathed in the light of his home. “Now I do.” He chuckles, mirroring your position, holding your face in his hands, gentle, like how you'd hold a delicate feather. Placing his forehead atop yours, he says the three words back. “I love you. I'm sorry it took this long.”

Jason leans away, eyes staring at your lips before watching your heart shaped eyes look at him. “That's my girl.” Tilting his head back, you chase his lips, grabbing his collar to do what you've always wanted to do.

“I don't blame you, it took me a while too.” You sniff, refusing to let the tears escape you. “By the way, I never gave them my number.”