#made my peace with the colouring for once

[lalosalamcnca]

[hinamie]

spiraling

[mv1simp]

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

—————————————————————————

A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

[propertyofwicked]

SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

[muntitled]

𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 & 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

: ̗̀➛ Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader | Brief!Harry Potter x fem!reader

: ̗̀➛ Summary: Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: Alcoholism, Dark!fic, Ravenclaw!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Shy!reader, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Harry (sorry boo), Fluff, A bit of Angst, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), DubCon, Semi Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Dom/Sub, CNC, humping, Spitting, Degradation, Dacryphillia, Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Breeding Kink

5k words

A/N: Hell truly is empty. I apologise in advance.

You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if the muggle God existed - if he is known to shepard Muggles and Wizards alike, then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once. The wizarding world is caught in its archaic intolerance of Half-Bloods. On the mortal side, you were informed from your private tutoring with Professor McGonagall that their smartphones are threatening devolution.

“It’s the closest thing they’ve got to a wand, Lovie, so we can’t really fault them on that, can we?” 6 years into your schooling at Hogwarts and you would continue to shadow Professor McGonagall, hoping you might one day soar to her heights of academic prestige in the wizarding world. You needed to be a Professor as much as a mortal needs to breathe….

You cannot let him, of all people, ruin things. Your reputation is a fragile, flammable thing - and he is freaking Kerosene.

It's difficult to pinpoint when it started or how your sensibilities rushed away from you so swiftly. One moment you’re planting your textbook on the face of a wooden desk - the sound reaching the rafters in the highest peak of the deserted classroom…

“A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration.” Mattheo read the title aloud with a tedious uninterested drawl. “Seems a bit presumptuous to shove this down my throat so early on. Shouldn't we be starting from the beginning?"

You ignored him promptly, using the silence to arrange your colour coordinated stationery on your desk beside Riddle's,

“I had no idea," You began, brushing off your blue lined robes and flattening the invisible creases on your skirt, "-That the person residing under my tutelage would be a first year."

Riddle stabbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your face remained passive as you continued, "You are a sixth year, correct?” You asked with a snide tilt of the head before planting yourself on the desk beside him.

“You are a big boy capable of understanding big boy books,” Unbeknownst to you, your words managed to stir something foreign within Mattheo but he conceals it with his usual veneer of arrogance as he swings his head lazily in your direction.

"May we begin?" You asked, with your back straightened - inches away from his hand now hanging on your chair.

"In a bit…" he says, "Just..." his voice trails off as his eyes scan over your visage, likely assessing it like an unseen tapestry. The truth is, Riddle did not know you prior to being forced under your tutelage. His droopy brown eyes appeared even more so as he broke the distance between you two and studied you closer. A tense silence grew pregnant in the ancient classroom, and your resolve was beginning to slip. Only one thought inflated a puddle of anxiety in your stomach:

Could this be your first kiss? Is this what first kisses looked like? Could this be your very first brush of intimacy overall?

Your brain failed to rationalise and compartmentalise his attraction, but your heart pushed your head closer.

"Call me a big boy again..." He had whispered… which evidently led you here.

Your lesson had ended with your hand covered in his release and a breathless smirk painted across his face. "This goes without saying," he breathed out with a satisfied smirk, "But tell anyone about this, and you're dead."

Ever since that day, your tutoring has been but a veneer of something much more sinister. When you were thrusted into the light of day, Mattheo overlooked you as did lots of his Slytherin friends. Besides the occasional threat and vague insult, you mean nothing to him.

When you two are alone, however, as you are right now, he would enchant you into servitude, lightly pushing your head down while he kissed you silly until your knees were planted on the hardwood floor.

Mattheo briefly opens his eyes to peer down at you. It is then when you notice the fresh bruise dotting the side of his face, and his pillowy lips split by a small incursion. He had very clearly gotten into another fight..

“Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be a smart ass,” His words illicit a bubble of heat inside you.

Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit. For starters, you can feel the old wooden floors digging into the meat of your knees and the crisp winter chill is unkind to your scantily dressed state. Your shirt is unbuttoned because Mattheo was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand is buried tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down your throat. The very bones of Hogwarts seem to be in vehement protest of your blatant whorishness.

3 silver chains hang from his neck as he plants his other hand against the wall behind you, blocking your kneeling frame between both him and cold, hard stone. You crane your neck back, keeping a half lidded gaze on the jewelry that drives you feral with lust. You are content imagining that perhaps, when he is getting ready in the slytherin common rooms, he wears the silver for you. A fanciful thought but one that consistently has your intestines weaving themselves into knots.

That, paired with his striking, jet black blazer, which is discarded somewhere in the abandoned classroom, has you keening and fighting to take even more of him into your mouth. Perhaps you were peacocking a little - flatting your tongue so his cock slid seamlessly to the back of your throat while you fought to ignore the pain blossoming on your scalp. He had turned you from an inexperienced nun to something you're not quite ready to examine yet.

"You're finally putting this head of yours to good use…" Despite his feigned arrogance you're utterly delighted knowing that only you can bring Mattheo to such an utterly restless state. He does not really know what to do with himself.

Not when you took so much of him, so well.

You clench your toes.

Feeling himself get too close, Mattheo eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your scalp. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that was special to Mattheo. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified toy.

"Are all Ravenclaws as compliant as you are?”

You bring a crisp white sleeve up to your lips, wiping away the excess drool as you remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.

"If you ever think of finding out," your voice is hoarse, "this will be the last time I offer you any free study sessions."

"Is money all you seek?" He attempts to feign composure, continuing to languidly stroke his cock. "How utterly greedy. I thought- fuck… - I thought you were far more philosophical than that"

You watch hungrily as Mattheo bites on his pillowy bottom lip. He is prolonging the release, taking his time as he usually did... "If you plan on edging yourself in my mouth instead of actually finishing the job, I do have other commitments to attend to-"

He ignores you... his brows furrowing and smoothening at odd intervals as he continues to touch himself while studying you.

"We may not be studying… but I still intend to pass Transfiguration, hope you're aware." He punctuates his sentence with an breathless laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes.

As he talks, you examine his scars and feel the slow essence of admiration seep into the pit of your stomach. An arguably pathetic feat, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.

Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Mattheo as a glorified parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own means. Something that takes, and takes, and occasionally jokes around, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and worst of them all.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to yourself. Mattheo's gaze is placed firmly on something down below. Throughout his mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against the leg of his pants, quite literally on its own accord. Mattheo is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.

Eventually, he dismisses you. He shakes his head. "Whatever," He says, tilting your head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."

Almost instinctively, you do as he orders and like clockwork, you swallow his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your words actually were. There was a moment, perhaps imagined, in which his fingers gripping your hair, melted to the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.

Mattheo soon straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable to the student body as they know him to be (which admittedly is not a lot) And before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.

"Tell anyone about this-"

"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."

And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection to assess the damage Mattheo and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended).

As far as Mattheo is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations through because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so unforgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.

It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of group projects and class discussions… so Harry Potter gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox, in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction during a rare free period in Study of Ancient Runes. Your professor has been summoned quite promptly by the headmaster and has yet to return. The class has been in a state of havoc ever since.

"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" A deep shadow over the pages alerted you to his presence, "They both die at the end."

It was incredibly rare that Potter, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. Gryffindors made use of Ravenclaws as often as Slytherins.

So naturally, you peer curiously up at him…

"Sorry?"

"Y-Your book. It's a muggle book, isn't it? I haven't seen anything with a cover like that around here. It's refreshing. Everything in the wizarding world is ancient and leatherbound." He mumbles as his index finger slides into the collar of his red quidditch jersey. He finds himself suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.

"'They Both Die At The End." He says, pointing towards the title.

"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"

"No," Harry snickers before waving a large hand in dismissal, "Evidently, the only thing I 'made' was a complete and utter fool of myself."

You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly.

"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."

"Is that how it is!?" Harry asked, pleasantly surprised by your banter, "- I could've sworn I had a shred of dignity before the start of this conversation. Now I'm not quite sure where that went."

Mattheo's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until Draco shoves past him, to get to their own seats in the front of the class.

His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgment of his presence.

You do nothing of the sort, and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.

Mattheo has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance.

Overthinking is something he consistently lives without.

Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.

His glances at the front of the class before finding you once more in the very back corner of the class. He notices that Harry is stationed in front of you but the seat beside you is completely deserted.

Did you not have friends?

And more importantly; how did he never notice until now?

What if…

Perhaps if he…

"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Harry rallying into silence. Mattheo appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Potter - who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Mattheo injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your wide eyes off Mattheo as he lowers himself to his chair beside you with his legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.

"Don't stop on my accord," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your professor might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you. His slouching puts him a level lower than you, but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation.

"Maybe I should ask, Potter?" Mattheo turns his attention to the front, "What were you lot talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Riddle's tone. In fact, it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalate into full-on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.

Harry's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-"

"Books!" Mattheo cuts him off with sarcastic fervour, "How utterly fascinating!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but you look down at your desk in blatant anger. Refusing to be a part of whatever this is.

"And tell me, Potter, how many books have you read so far?"

It is then that Riddle's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Never had Mattheo ever displayed a desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.

"A couple,'' says Harry, fighting to show this bully that he was unaffected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Mattheo's palm made, you were slipping farther and farther away.

"A couple books?" Asks Riddle for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story.

He finally slips under your skirt.

His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it. His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.

Not at all.

If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.

The tips of Mattheo's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.

Mattheo's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Potter?"

Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through the desk and Mattheo's overabundance in questions, has Harry reeling backwards.

"I asked you a question, Harry."

"I like reading."

"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Riddle tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh. His nails bite into your skin, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.

Mattheo is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you.

That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along.

He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Potter for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Potter had gone far enough, would you replace him? Had you even fucked Potter before?

You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows even further into your book. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Mattheo's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - for the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Harry Potter still very much a part of the conversation.

"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Mattheo. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties. "Don't cut your long life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, yeah?" Gone are any traces of feigned friendliness. "Fucking Mudblood,"

Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Potter could not see the slight tremor in your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary.

Mattheo's words… they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.

"Understood?"

Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Harry give you one final curious look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aid Mattheo's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.

Once Harry is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Mattheo lowers his lips to your ears. The damp smell of firewhiskey floods your nostril and you realise that he is completely drunk. In the second lesson of the day.

However, you're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a lost little puppy until you make a mess all over his hand.

"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony. "You like being humiliated like this?" He asks, almost in complete awe. It takes everything in you not to moan outright.

"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, warding off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for your Professor's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Mattheo's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he labelled you as.

Instead of moving to his designated seat, Riddle raises his hand for the professor… the very same hand that has previously been in between your legs.

"Yes, Mr Riddle?" Asks the Professor, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.

"May we be excused? We were excused by Professor Slughorn to assist him in-"

"Fine, fine," Says the professor with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."

Riddle's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.

"Here," you have barely made it fully into the boy's bathroom before Mattheo is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom sink.

"Is that good?" His voice is as sweet as honey as he forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them.

Mattheo has half his sense to pull his wand from his back pocket, and without turning around, whispers "Colloportus," and the heavy doors snap shut.

You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Mattheo is always a ball of sarcastic energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.

You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.

The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of tears grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.

"My girl," Mattheo presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his body into your side. His hard cock in unmistakable through his school pants, "My messy little girl,"

You finally moan candidly while your fingers grip the countertops and your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to make you cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.

"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner,"

This is all new, even for the two of you.

"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart.

"Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you. Mattheo removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.

Mattheo weaponizes your distraction to reach around and slide your panties to the side with one hand while he rubs your soft nub with his other, spit-coated hand.

You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.

"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've fucked that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.

"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.

Mattheo collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, he does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom sink and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock rams your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers small slaps against your cheek. Riddle keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.

"You think you're so fucking smart but you're just my little whore, arent you? A little whore thst fucks anything that gives her the slightest bit of attention?" It doesn't even register that Mattheo wrongfully suspects that there had been something between you and Harry but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.

"Oh~ fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving him balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Potter?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Potter?!" His voice is utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting.

He is panting, while he mumbles into your ear.

"What would Potter think? If he saw you like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum so deep inside you? Completely ruining you for anyone else, huh?"

"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "It's only ever been you, Mattheo -oh my god! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.

"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."

"Oh my God, Mattheo, I fucking need you." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.

His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes became sloppy. His mind is flooded with the tightest of your cunt around his cock- how someone so smart could possibly ever say they need him. It has a flood of heat pooling at the base of his cock. "You're so fucking pretty… my pretty girl - my pretty whore," He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your arms wavering while your back arches towards him, only allowing him better excess.

"I need you," You say once more, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need you to cum inside me."

"Oh my fucking god," Mattheo's eyes soften in their desperstion, "M'gonna fucking breed pussy right here- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.

"Y-Youre making me cum, baby- fuck-" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice.

"So… so pretty" His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.

The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.

"I think I nearly killed Potter today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.

"There is no Harry Potter," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you, Mattheo."

And a part of him believes you, but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Mattheo's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

[mommywandas]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a very dark and heavy fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! 18+ only. Men dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[thevillainswhore]

A Balm To The Heart

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: After a long day at the woodyard, Bucky finds peace in his best girl’s arms.

Warnings: Pure unfiltered fluff, like the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, Bucky’s POV, driving while sleepy (don’t do it!!), pet names, established relationship, oh and did I mention fluff?

Author’s Note: Divider by @saradika-graphics. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier thank you so much my darling, you’re my rock 🧡 This is part of @elixirfromthestars cafe writing challenge!! Using the prompt 🍞 “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” My first ever challenge I’ve been apart of and I had the most fun with it!! Thank you, my sweet Mel! 🥰

The Love In The Woods Collection ❄️

The sun began to lay on the precipice of the day, the light slowly fading out to make way for the dark of the night. Bucky fought the tiredness claiming his eyes, tempting him to fall asleep at the wheel. If you knew he was driving in his state, you’d throw a fit. 

But he had to make it home to his baby. 

Exhaustion weighed Bucky down from a long day at the woodyard. Hauling timber all day to prepare the town for the harsh winter coming up was enough to make his old joints ache with pain. However, with the lack of staff due to the storm blocking most of the roads, he had to do it all himself. 

Bucky just wanted to sink into you. 

All day, he was tormented by the prettiest image of you snuggled into your shared bed, pouty lips and pleading eyes begging him to call in sick, to stay home with you. 

And even though his sanity was tested, Bucky regretfully declined. All the old folks needed wood to keep their homes heated in the cold season and his mind wouldn’t have settled knowing a full day would be lost to his own selfishness. 

Though as he drove back to his cabin, rivers of golden beams shining into his truck, Bucky wished he had taken your offer.  

Although, his sourness sweetened into a warm affection as he caught the glint of his wedding ring in the dying sunlight. 

You love sunsets, Bucky smiled to himself. He had to take you to the top of the mountains to watch another one soon.

He could imagine you at home, watching the remnants of the day with its beautiful colours reflecting into your eyes. 

Sunsets mean the end of the day, fresh starts and hope that tomorrow will bring us more peace than today. Remember that, Bear. 

Your voice instantly calmed the mess in his mind, the stress that had wound his muscles tight. With a heavy sigh, Bucky let go of the toll the day had taken on him and instead focused on where the path ahead would lead him — you. 

The truck grumbled to a stop in the driveway and Bucky didn’t bother stopping to grab his tools or his bags. The pink painted door called to him, called your name, his home. 

Throwing the door open, Bucky quickly shook off his coat and boots. His steps didn’t falter as he made his way to the bedroom. Not when he began peeling his clothes off one by one on the way. Not when emotion clogged up his eyes at the smell of your sweet scent lingering around the house. 

And there you were as he entered his bedroom. Once crafted by his bare hands as part of his first home after he left college, now his safe space in which he was lucky enough to share with his wife. His haven. 

It looked like you hadn’t moved from the morning. Still tangled in the sheets, your hair was messy from your tossing and turning, though your skin glowed beautifully in the golden sunlight that shimmered through the window. The orange tones that tattooed your body almost gave you a vintage look and the sight was enough to render Bucky speechless. 

Just like the day you showed up on his doorstep after years apart. 

Your smile was blinding as you looked up at him, tearing yourself away from your fantasy book he knew you loved so much and placing it on the nightstand. “Hey, baby. I missed you.” 

If that didn’t do things to Bucky’s heart. 

“Dolly,” he gasped, a slight whine to his voice. 

Instantly, because you’re so well in tune with him, your arms opened wide — an invitation to join you. “Come here, you big lug.” 

Bucky didn't waste another second. Clad in only his underwear, he all but jumped onto the bed, the pristinely crafted wood of the frame creaking from old age. 

You shifted the duvet to swaddle around his frame once he reached you, cocooning him in your accumulated warmth over the day. Feeling your bare skin against his after hours away from you was liberating, like he had ascended to heaven. Even after years of wedded bliss, Bucky still got tingles whenever the two of you touched. 

You were pure magic wrapped in a bottle. 

“Can I lay my head on you?” Bucky asked quietly, relishing in the serenity you so easily provided him. 

You laughed, the sound mesmerising to his ears. “Like you even have to ask. Tell me about your day, Bear.” 

Needing no other permission, Bucky laid in your arms. Positioning his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your stomach and his legs intertwined with yours. He was so much bigger than you, comically so. But Bucky needed to lose himself in your softness from time to time. 

He groaned as the muscles in his joints finally had a chance to relax. “I would much rather hear about your day, sweetheart. Lemme hear your voice for a while, will ya?” 

Bucky looked up to find your cheeks tightened from the large, bashful smile on your face, one that he knew you had tried to smother but failed to do so. They were his favourite. 

You shook your head fondly and squeezed him before beginning to recall your day. It wasn’t filled with much — mostly with bathroom breaks when you could rip yourself out of bed, a trip to the home library down the hall to pick the next book of your series, and lastly an hour of baking. Even so, Bucky listened to you intently, his soul replenishing more with each activity you listed off. 

Because that was his goal in life. His vow to you in marriage. To make your life as easy and simple as possible. To bring you peace when the world threatened to dull your sparkle. 

And boy was he satisfied to know he had achieved that. 

Bucky’s eyes began to grow heavy, the kind that he couldn’t fight any longer. You must have noticed from the loosening of his limbs and the sudden lightness to his body. “Are you sleepy, baby?” 

The rhythm of your heart soothed him as he murmured a lazy hum of agreement. 

“You can rest now, Bear.” Your soft voice sounded further away as sleep started to overtake him, like the prettiest lullaby he’d ever heard. “I’ve got you.” 

Before the whispers of slumber could steal him, though, Bucky smiled — drunken and free. “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.”

The giggle that vibrated from your body to his only made him fall even more in love with you. Bucky purred like a cat as you ran your nails through his hair and finally let himself go. 

The last sensation that registered in his mind was the feeling of your lips pressed against his head and a last declaration of love. “Thank you for being the reason it does.” 

[berryz-writes]

Peace

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel finally finding peace in the morning with you

note: Yes there is no plot. Yes it's just fluff. And yes this is one fic I want to dedicate to @thelov3lybookworm the amount of fluff in this fic is half the amount of love I have for her. ILYSM YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE <3 (ignore any mistakes ty)

The soft rays of sunlight peeked through the window bathing me in golden warmth. It’s as if my day was already off to a good start. Well it always was if Azriel was beside me. 

I turned slightly to see his eyes shut, eyelashes longer than most females brushing his cheek, full lips in the slightest of smiles. 

He looked peaceful and knowing how hard it was for him to sleep I decided letting him lie in was the best option. Trying to untangle myself from his firm grip was a harder task than I had thought it would be. Azriel inched closer for every little space I created between the two of us, his face resting in the crook of my neck. 

Finally accepting defeat and realizing I wouldn’t be able to leave without waking him up I gently shook his shoulder “Azriel?” 

All I got in return was a slight groan and him stretching out his wings before folding them again. He was not going to make this easy. 

“Az. My love I need to get up” I tried again, running my hand down his arm, the warmth of his body seeping into me. Slowly opening his eyes he blinked at me for a few moments as if making sure it was me next to him. Once he had taken in my whole face his lips turned up into the softest smiles I had seen, my heart doing backflips at his unrelenting gaze. 

“Morning sweetheart” His voice was hoarse from having just woken up and I could tell he was still tired. Pressing a kiss to my forehead he loosened his grip so I could slip out of bed.

I made my way to the balcony that connected to our room watching as the sun rose, spilling light onto all of Velaris. I could see the Sidra from here and all the small shops still with their closed signs, the sight of my favourite bakery already making my mouth water. I loved peaceful mornings like these.

As I stood on the balcony, taking in the peaceful sight of Velaris, I felt calm and as if nothing could go wrong today. The Sidra shimmered below in the morning light, and the buildings, with their intricately carved facades and soft pastel colours, seemed to reflect the tranquillity I was feeling. The air smelled faintly of fresh bread and sweet pastries, the hint of black coffee in the air reminding me to get some for Az when I stopped by there later in the morning.

Azriel’s footsteps were soft as he joined me, the warmth of his chest pressing gently against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. The morning was already warm enough, but his body heat was a comforting cocoon, making me sink back against him, feeling safe and grounded.

“So eager to escape from me already?” he teased softly, his voice still raspy with sleep. His fingers brushed lightly over my arm, sending a shiver down my spine.

I laughed in response, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were a rich, golden brown in the early light, and the way he looked at me made my heart flutter. “I’d hardly call it escaping, Az. More like… slipping away.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “That’s even worse. Because then you might think you’re getting away, and I can’t have that.”

I could feel his smile against my hair, a grin that promised more. Turning in his arms, I brushed a stray lock of his dark hair back, fingers lingering as I gently trailed them down the side of his face. “If anyone’s ever tried to slip away from you, I don’t imagine they’d get very far.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that vibrated against me, his wings giving a small, lazy stretch. “True” He admitted. “But you know I’d never stop you”

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’d let me slip away?”

“I’d let you slip,” he murmured, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against my temple. “I’d just follow. And we’d end up right back here.”

His words were like honey and they made me melt into him even more. Gods was he perfect. And so were his words.

For a while, we both simply stood there, looking out at the world together. His hands were warm on my back, his breath soft and steady as he held me. Azriel’s rare moments of vulnerability, when he allowed himself to simply be around me, made me want to kiss every part of him, wanting him to know how I loved that he trusted me. He carried so much on his shoulders, the weight of past scars and current burdens that few knew of. He was gentle in ways he hardly acknowledged and I hated when he thought otherwise.

After a long moment, he gave a small sigh and rested his chin on my shoulder, his gaze distant as if he was already halfway out of Velaris. I knew what he was going to say so I beat him to it.

“Rhys is sending you out again soon, isn’t he?” I asked gently.

He nodded, his jaw tensing a little as he looked down at the city. “We’ve been getting reports from the borders. Faint movement.... but we're not sure what it is” His hand tightened on my waist as he spoke, and I felt his tension rise. “Rhys wants me to go in quietly, see what’s really going on.”

I placed a hand over his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll handle it, Az. You always do. Just....be careful”

He looked at me, a mixture of tenderness and determination in his gaze. “Always, for you.” His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “I’d never leave you waiting.”

A faint smile touched his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I hated goodbye's. But I couldn't stop them, so savouring every moment I had with him was crucial.

The sun continued to rise, casting golden light over the rooftops. “I’ll come back before you even miss me,” he murmured, the shadow of a smile on his face. As if he knew what I was thinking.

“I’ll hold you to that” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him a little tighter.

P.s) I haven't written in a while so I'm still trying to figure out who was on my taglist sorryy lovelies <3 also I would have posted this earlier except...idk how to que posts properly it seems

[eternalmoonlight18]

Maybe This Time...

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis: You and Shanks were raised together in Roger’s crew. However that was over a decade ago, and now that you reunited with him once again, he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fluffy and then angst and then fluffy again in the end… should this be a two part series?! lmk!

a/n: this is not proofread, i just got the sudden urge to write at midnight LOL. real ones will notice that this is based off of a song by the same title, esp if you grew up watching filipino rom com movies!

wc: 2.6k

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It was a cool and calm night as the Oro Jackson gently swayed against the calm waves of the Grand Line. The ship was filled with pirates, dreaming away after a long day of fighting against Marines. Loud snores can be heard echoing through the ship and into the quiet night sky.

A young 12 year-old-girl crawled up to the deck, trying to find a peaceful area to sleep away from the grown men who snored loudly in their bedchambers. She lightly scampered up to the deck and up to the crow’s nest, only to find it was occupied by a boy with red hair, who was leaning up against the pole at the centre of the nest.

The boy heard the scuffling and turned around to see you. He flashed a bright smile that shone with the stars the littered the night sky. You reciprocated as you made your way to sit beside him.

“What’re you doing here Shanks?” you quipped.

“Couldn’t sleep. These geezers snore so loud that one day I think they’ll attract Sea Kings in the middle of the night.” he jokingly said.

Shanks’ comment made you giggle. “Hey, that’s going to be you one day. A loud old man who snores like beast.” you shot at him.

The boy pouted as he crossed his arms. “And you’re going to be a wrinkly old granny who’s going to be all alone.” he retorted.

You stood up and pointed down at him. “That’s not nice!” you whined.

“You literally started it!” he scoffed as he looked up at you.

Before you couldn’t answer back, a sudden light flashed by. You whipped your head around in surprised and ran to the edge of the crows nest and saw a shower of shooting started to decorate the night sky. Gripping the rail of the nest, your breath hitched as you lightly gasped at the sight before you.

“Oh my gods, look Shanks! Shooting stars! Quick make a wish!” you squealed as you jumped up and down in excitement.

The red-haired boy lightly laughed as he got up and made his way beside you. With his arms leaning up against the rail, he watched the light show with you. He turned his head to his left and rested his eyes on you as your attention was focused on the falling stars. As the light continued to shine and fall, Shanks was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He swore that you were lighting up just like the stars, with your lips pulled back in a genuine smile as your eyes gleamed in excitement. As he continued to observe you, he saw the reflection of the stars in your irises and his breath hitched in awe. An uncomfortable feeling started to churn in his stomach and chest as he felt his eyes soften at the sight of you.

You turn your head to the right to see Shanks staring at you.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you questioned, noticing the weird expression on his face.

He quickly broke away from the trance that you put him in and pulled his eyes away. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment as a light pink colour started showing up on his cheeks. He shyly glanced back to you and saw that your face plastered with innocence and curiosity.

“You looked funny while you were looking at the shooting stars.” he said in excuse.

The smile that graced your lips fell as you furled your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was making a wish for you information.” you snarked at him.

Shanks hummed. “What did you wish?” he asked.

When he asked the question, your gaze softened as you turned around and faced the sea once more. “I wished to stay forever like this. With Captain Roger and the whole crew, with you and Buggy, forever sailing and looking for adventure.” you sighed.

The boy raised his eyebrow as you confessed. “You’re so cheesy.” he laughed.

Not breaking away from the sight of the vast sea, you hmphed. “Shut up. What was your wish?” you asked back.

Shanks turned around and faced the same direction as he rested his head on his arms. Silence took over as he thought about your question.

“Wishing on stars is for little kids.” he finally spoke. His voice was mixed in with a slight hesitation that you failed to notice.

You lightly punched his left shoulder. “We’re both twelve stupid. We are kids.” you giggled.

The boy laughed with you as the both you watched the shooting stars finally come to an end. Another pregnant paused filled the air until you broke the silence.

“Can you promise me something Shanks?” you quietly asked as you turned your entire body to face him.

“What is it?” he answered as he tilted his head to face you.

You bowed your head, refusing to meet his eyes. Your left foot scrapped the wooden floor as you fidgeted nervously. As courage started to swell in you once more, you raised your head and looked right into Shank’s deep brown eyes.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“Hah?” the boy gasped in surprise. He stumbled back and started looking away. The pink tinge on his cheeks started to deepen as he glanced back at you. As he found his footing once more, he rubbed the back of his head with his left hand and laughed.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

A giggle escaped your lips as you smiled widely at the boy in front of you. Shanks reciprocated the smile as he reached his right hand out. You gladly took it with your left as he pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t ever leave my side okay?” he whispered.

You tightened your arms around him as you buried your head into his right shoulder.

“You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you joked.

The light breeze touched the skin of the two friends as they sat back down to watch the stars together.

————-

The rain fell hard as it splattered onto the concrete ground of the town. People were scampering around in chaos mixed with yells and screams. The sky was dark and clouded, reflecting the mood of the area.

You were now 15 years old, and Gold Roger, your captain, was just executed.

You ran across town chasing after Shanks after you saw him run away after your captain was killed in front of everyone. As you maneuvered around the town, you spotted Buggy and Shanks who were standing in front of each other. As you ran closer, you saw that Buggy turned his back from his friend and ran away to your direction.

“Buggy!” you called out as he ran. But he ignored you, running past you in silence. You get a brief glimpse at him and see that his face was painted with a scowl with light tears running down his face.

Your legs continued to move forward as you ran towards Shanks. His head was bowed down with his hands dangling from his sides. As you reached in front of him, he looked up with a heavy expression resting on his face. His eyes were void of emotion as he scanned your eyes.

“Shanks…” you trembled as your emotions caught up to you. The rain started pouring down harder as you and the red-haired 15 year old stared at each other in defeat.

“He’s gone…” he muttered quietly.

“I know Shanks, I know.” you choked as hot tears started to pour down from your face.

The boy’s lips started to frown as he watched you cry. As your sobs grew louder, you crouched down in a fetal position, burring your face into your arms as you continued to cry. Shanks’ resolve slowly started to crumble as he tried to choke back sobs that was threatening to escape his throat. Lifting his right arm up, he tried to reach out to you, but drew back in hesitation. He turned his head to the side as he started to speak.

“I’m going.” he said plainly.

Your head shot up. With glossy eyes, you stared at your red-haired friend. “Then take me with you.”

“No.” he said curtly.

“What? What do you mean no?” you started to raised your face as you rapidly got up from the ground. “Shanks, you promised me that we’d stay together!”

In that moment, he gripped the handle of his sword so tight, that white started to appear on his knuckles. Shanks lowered his head, allowing the raindrops that fell on his straw hat to drip down onto the concrete ground.

“I’m going back to the Grand Line on my own. You should stay here, or somewhere, away from the seas.” he said.

More tears started to stream down your face as you walked up to him and shook his shoulders. “What nonsense are you talking about?! Who are you to tell me to not go back to the sea? Shanks you promised me that you wouldn’t leave me!” you wailed.

The red-haired boy swatted your hands away from shoulder and started to back step away from you. Your eyebrows scrunched in disbelief as you watched him slowly turn around and walk away from you.

“Goodbye Y/n.” he said as he walked away in the rain.

“No!” you screamed at him. “No Shanks don’t leave me!” you yelled. Your calls were futile has he continued to walk away, not looking back.

You didn’t understand. Why did everything you have get ruined?

You clutched your chest as you fell to your knees, not caring that the impact of the fall banged up your knee caps.

The only thing that could be heard was the bloodcurdling scream of Shanks’ name echo throughout Loguetown.

—————

You come face to face with the man you vowed to never see again.

It’s been fifteen years since you last seen Shanks at Loguetown. You’re now 30 years old and working as a Pirate Hunter. You were docked at a remote island for a two days and was heading back to your small ship before you found yourself facing the man who left you crying in the rain.

He was now a full grown man, taller, stronger, with three scars slashed on his left eye, and missing a left arm. His signature straw hat was also missing from his head.

Shanks didn’t expect to see you in front of him either. Looking down at you, he saw that you were now a full grown woman. But he knew that it was still the same old you, the same best friend he had.

And he knew that you still held a grudge against him.

You glared at him, then attempted to walk past him without saying a word before he spoke up.

“It’s good to see you Y/n.”

Ignoring his greeting, you made your way to your ship at the sanded beach. Hauling a sack at your back, you threw it over your shoulder and onto the boat as you prepared to leave the island.

The red-haired man pulled up next to your boat and watched as you prepared your sails. In the distance, his crew watched curiously as their captain followed this mysterious woman.

“Out of the way red-haired.” you snarled. You glance down at the man and threw a sour expression his way. He smiled back.

“You’re the same as always.” he sighed.

“You have some nerve pretending everything is good between us.” you snapped at him.

Shanks ran his one good hand through his red locks and laughed. “You got me there. But it’s been 15 years Y/n. I’m sure we can put grudges away hm?” he said lightly.

An apple flew at his direction, but unsurprisingly he caught it.

“Shut the fuck up.” you growled. Before you could throw a bigger item at him, your ship suddenly splintered into pieces as a cannonball hit it. You flew out and landed on the sand. It seemed that the pirates you were chasing after caught you off guard and tried to shoot you down.

Shanks quickly tried to help you up from the ground while you sputtered the sand out your mouth. Realizing that he was holding onto your right arm as he hoisted you up, you shoved him away from your side.

“Don’t touch me.” you lowly said.

“You should come in my ship. Those guys are coming for your head.” he replied. He saw that the pirates that shot down your ship were running your direction.

“No.” you muttered as you attempted to limp away from him and the enemy. But this time, Shanks hoisted you up and threw you over his right shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Startled, you started to flail around as he started to make his way to the his ship.

“Yo! Get ready to sail!” he called out to his crew.

“Put me down you ogre!” you yelled as you attempted to punch his broad back. You swore you could feel Shanks grin as he ignored you.

“No can do Y/n! I’m not leaving you this time!” he cheerfully spoke.

You continued to wrestle against Shanks’ tight grip on the back of your legs. Once he climbed on the ship, he gently placed you down on the desk. As soon as your bum hit the floor, you scrambled to get off, only the find that the ship had already sailed away from the island.

“You asshole!” you screamed. Whipping your head to see the infuriating red-haired man shooting a smile your way. “Get me off this ship right now!” you demanded.

He simply shrugged. The his whole crew was now up on the deck, laughing at your suddenly burst of anger.

“No can do, unless you wanna sail to your death on your own out there.” Shanks answered smugly.

Stomping towards Shanks, you jab a finger into his chest as you snarled at him. “You fucking kidnapped me! You had the nerve to show your face after fifteen years and kidnap me onto your ship! You’re a lunatic Red-haired!” you shrieked.

Shanks’ chest rumbled with laughter, with the rest of the crew following suit. He placed his hand onto your right shoulder as he stooped down to your left ear.

“Well, I’m here now to keep that promise we made hmm?” he lowly purred in your ear. The man pulled away and raised his eyebrow in amusement as he saw your face turn red. A deep frown was plastered on your lips as your eyebrows furled in anger.

The palms of your hand collided with his sturdy chest as you shoved him away from you. You stomped away to the other side of the gigantic ship, not wanting to come in contact with your former friend at all.

“Y/n!” he called out to you as he watched your back walk away. He grinned widely as you twisted your upper body to shoot up a middle finger at his direction.

By the gods above you were back in his life, and it somehow felt just right. Maybe this time, his wish would come true.

“What did you wish for?” he recalled your 12 year old self asking him.

“For you to be my partner in this lifetime.” he finally admitted to himself, 18 years after that one fateful night when he fell in love with you.

This time he would make things right with you.

[tora-ken]

meeting you for the first time

genre fluff, gojo satoru x fem!reader

warnings none

wc; 873

please do not plagiarise or share my works on any other social media platforms. as always, reblogs are appreciated <3

“satoru? are you even listening?” his best friends, shoko and suguru wave a hand in front of his face, as they notice the white haired boy isn’t paying any attention.

“he’s spaced out again, what’s going on with him recently?” shoko mutters in annoyance, laying down against the grass as the three of them sit in an empty field, away from the noise.

satoru isn’t too sure why he’s spacing out again, in fact he’s not sure why he’s acting this way at all. everything just seems so plain, so boring. he should be happy really, for once in his life, everything is peaceful, his parents aren’t nagging at him to ask if he’s finally decided what university he wants to go off to, his aunts and uncles haven’t come to visit in a while, which means he doesn’t have to deal with more questions of what he’s going to do with his future. the teachers at his school, although they do try, don’t come up to him to ask about why he’s been skipping detention and not doing his homework. despite all this peace, he finds no meaning.

“satoru! you’re doing it again!” this time it’s suguru who snaps him out of his daze, “what are you even thinking about?”

“nothing,” he huffs, laying down on his stomach, “absolutely nothing, that’s the problem.” shoko and suguru share a confused expression, before staring back at their friend.

“alright, you…you do that man…” suguru pats his shoulder before standing up, “how about we go to the café near mine? they’re serving pancakes for half price today.” satoru’s ear twitches, and he jumps right up, his lethargy suddenly dissipating the moment suguru mentions ‘pancakes’.

the three of them, with satoru tucked between suguru and shoko, pace down the streets towards their signature café, talking idly about everything and nothing, except that satoru is gazing off again, looking straight ahead of him, without a thought in his eyes.

the street is bustling with life, children running around the park across the road, cars politely following the speed limit, the cyclists ringing their bells to let people know they’re coming by, well, some of the cyclists—

“hey- hey watch out!” a scream wakes satoru out of his stupor, and the cyclist crashes into satoru, the both of them falling stupidly on their asses.

“what the hell, why didn’t you ring your fu-“ he pauses in awe.

“i’m so so so sorry, my bell isn’t working, and my brakes are broken i’ve been meaning to get them fixed — i swear i was on my way to fix them, the bike repair shop is right down there, i’m so sorry for hurting you, oh my god are you okay—my cupcakes!” you ramble on before him, and it’s like satoru’s been introduced to paradise.

“it-it’s okay…” amazed, he stands up, and picks your bike up as you pick up the crushed cupcakes on the ground, salvaging what you can, and he watches in reverence as your hair falls down your face, only for you to push it back behind your ear, picking up the next cupcake.

“god, this is all my fault, is there anything i can do to fix this, i’m so sorry, i ripped your trousers, do you want money? a cupcake? oh my god-“ you try to offer him one of the cupcakes that weren’t destroyed, to fix the rip on satoru’s trousers.

“hey! it’s fine…you don’t need to do anything, except maybe get that bike fixed.” he sputters out, you were so beautiful.

all of a sudden, the world was colourful, he could hear the children’s laughs, smell the fresh scent of the pancakes being made right down the street where he was meant to be, and most of all—he noticed how bright your eyes were.

shoko and suguru watch, with jaws dropped as their lifeless best friend stares at the stranger before them in utter adoration, before they look at each other and hold it in themselves to not laugh out loud.

“um, i’m really sorry to do this, but i need to go fix this bike, but i’ll pay you back for your trousers, just find me somehow, my name is y/n!” you shout across the street, as you put the cupcakes back in the broken basket, and cycle off again chaotically.

he stares at you until you disappear again, his heart beating 100 miles a minute. “i just met the love of my life.” satoru almost melts into the ground as he remembers how mesmerising you were, as messy as you were, and he dreams of an entire life with you.

“oh we know…” suguru laughs.

“how is she going to be the love of your life if you probably won’t see her again?” shoko interrupts, breaking satoru out of his daydream, and he turns around to run down the direction where you cycled off.

“satoru??” his best friends scream in unison as he disappears.

“i’m going to find her, i’ll be right back!” and he skedaddles down the same corner you turned, to find that stupid bike repair shop, to find you.

and satoru gojo thinks that maybe life isn’t so boring, if someone as ethereal as you exists in it.

a/n: hope u enjoyed my attempt at fluff !!

©️tora-ken 2024

[thebadboyfanclub]

One Can Only Hope (Cregan x Reader)

First of, I don’t know why this particular song was stuck in my head while I was writing but I think it fits the aesthetic of how the couple works together, also I don’t care that they didn’t pick this actor for me THAT is what Cregan stark looks like, and also sorry for not adding the last detail it just naturally went with a different approach

'may I present my second-born child and my precious only daughter, (y/n) Targaryen, the heiress of driftmark"

(y/n) bowed lightly before the stoic man that it deserves to be noted how thick his fur was which engulfed him, the man nodded as a sign of acknowledgment to the princess and the young heiress (y/n) could swear that she detected a faint smile forming on his lips, to be quite fair no one could tell since the lords' lips were faintly visible due to his distinguished beard, once (y/n)s deep blue eyes met his there was an instant influence on her that cause her to slightly shiver, mostly from anxiety and somewhat fear of the unknown.

(Y/n) could only describe the sensation similar to placing yourself at the very sharp edge of a tall cliff, as one would gaze down at the water the little voice would whisper to take a plunge, release yourself from the shackles of overthinking, whilst your mind begged you to take a step back and forget about all of this.

Unfortunately (y/n) was well aware of the reason why she had to take this long of a flight on dragon back and introduce herself to the new lord of the North, her mother had put a tremendous amount of effort into making this a trip that could be enjoyable too (y/n) but to no avail, she did not blame her mother, ever since she was a toddler (y/n) would catch whispers of numerous people around her castle that would venture on whom she would marry, as the moons passed and (y/n) became a lady the pressure became tighter than her corset.

"judging by the tremble and pink nose you are not accustomed to such a cold environment"

"I'm afraid not, I am willing to try though, if need be"

She suggested as her voice usually would be colourful and loud- something that princess rhaenyra adored- was now barely audible, Rhaenyra dreaded asking this of her only daughter, seven hells the reason she even had (y/n) was because of her failed match that was created under ambition and desperation for allegiance, now she had to bare the curse of the prey becoming the hunter as she set her daughter up in hopes this could bring peace and safety not only to the realm but to their family.

“It is an honor to have the Targaryen family as our guest, I believe last time it was with Queen Alyssane, was it not?”

“Indeed, my lord, though I cannot recall if we have ever United our house bloodline”

“That is correct, such a pity don’t you think Princess Rhaenyra? We must correct that mistake as fast as we can, before all that let me escort you to your chambers, you must rest after such travel”

Cregan's humor was a breath of fresh air for mother and daughter, both of them felt more comfortable through his commentary and light-hearted chatter.

Rhaenyra was extremely thankful that her daughter understood why this must be done if she had to be completely honest with herself partially the reason she chose Cregan as her daughter's match was how the whispers of his strength and his handsome nature made it to the red keep, another thing was a desperate attempt on keeping her daughter guarded, mayhaps if she found refuge in the north of the vicious Hightowers pushed Rhaenyra to war (y/n) would be tucked away and protected by the Lord.

As they walked through the castle Cregan started blabbering about all kinds of things his brain could master, he was certainly nervous when he got the letter from Rhaenyra herself asking for her daughter to be betrothed to him, Targaryen and Starks had, of course, rumors of laying together but never being United in the eyes of the Gods, and to add the fact that the lady is in line for the throne, the wedlock and children would bring such different aspect to his house.

"the lady of the north has to endure the stinging sensation of the icy air, but I believe having a humungous dragon that spews fire on command should help"

Rhaenyra smiled at the slight declaration of interest and almost a very subtle way of claiming their betrothal to be a fact, it was (y/n) 's turn to nod excitedly and let out a small giggle, Cregan was not a man that went unnoticed, young, tall, strong, beautiful, any woman of her status would thank the gods for such a match and a part of her was curious.

Due to the small sign of hope (y/n) careless tucked a strand behind her ear, revealing a part of her to the Lord that he had never seen before.

“Your ear”

He said almost in a question, subconsciously his head tilted in order to get a better view, hastily (y/n) let her hair fall back again, concealing her left ear, flustered and internally cursing herself.

“I don’t believe I have seen something like it before”

“I apologize, I-it is-“

“Unique, I know that Targaryens usually have violet eyes as your mother has, however, I can only guess you found that boring and chose something entirely different, you have quite the taste”

(Y/n)s eyes slightly widen at the kind-hearted nature of Cregan's comment, (y/n) was born with pointy ears, her mother would always jest that it was because the fairies brought (y/n) to her as a gift, others would say that the Targaryens started to blend more with their dragons and that Rhaenyra indulged in blood magic to have the daughter she always wanted.

Gossip and fairytales aside, (y/n) tried her best to conceal that little thing like a well-kept secret that she now had pulled the covers from. Cregan only smiled, (y/n) seemed like a peach on a summer day, full of sweetness, and the nectar could bring back the dead, her smile could make your teeth hurt like how they used to when he ate pie, the pointy ears in his eyes only gave her a boost in her ethereal presence.

Despite that (y/n) had to acknowledge that the man was nothing but a stranger, she had witnessed countless loveless marriages and men that sucked the life out of their wives,  besides all of that she pushed those types of thoughts to the side and masked her dark thoughts for the future with a brave face.

-

"Mother!"

(Y/n) exclaimed as she skipped over to Rhaenyra who rushed to her daughter's side, it had been months since (y/n) had seen her mother, and as content as she was with her new life no one could replace the place Rhaenyra had in her daughter's heart.

"oh my dearest, how lovely it is to see you, take a turn for me let me look at you"

(y/n) let out a snicker at her mother's request even though she complied almost immediately making Rhaenyra nod in approval, to no one’s surprise (y/n) had grown to be a proper lady, her red cape with the thick lining and fur, her hair down and disheveld from riding her dragon, plump red cheeks from eating well, and how could one forget her smile, shining through the realm and blessing her mother with a sigh of relief, Rhaenyra was relieved to say the slightest that her only daughter was taken care of.

"Princess, thank you for inviting us"

"nonsense, I would take any chance to see my baby"

"Mother" (y/n) whispered in embarrassment

"hush now young lady, to me, you will always remain the small babe that curled in my arms, you will know what I'm talking about sooner than late"

"about that, Mother, it might be sooner than you anticipate"

Rhaenyra froze in her spot, her eyes doubling their original size as an audible inhale of breath was heard, (y/n) 's eyes watered and her arms seemed to have a slight tremble whilst she took off her cape to reveal the cutest swollen belly. Rhaenyra stood still for only a second before she wrapped her arms as tight as she possibly could around (y/n) who did the same.

"no, my baby, why didn't you write me about this?"

"I-"

"We wanted to wait this time, I believe you understand, (y/n) wanted to tell you as soon as possible, I advised her not to, forgive me, princess"

Rhaenyra might not have birthed Cregan though she had given birth to (y/n) and that meant that she knew when her daughter was hiding, like now.

(Y/n) wanted to be cautious, after they suffered an early loss of their first baby before her belly could even swell, inevitable fear overtook her, she had refused to ride her dragon for the first three moons and she did her best to remain abed as much as possible.

Thankfully, Cregan shook her out of it, asking her to take a walk as often as his duties allowed him to, he would also attempt to ever so casually bring up how her dragon kept all of the town awake from roaring and complaining, even for this visit  (y/n) only agreed after Cregan offered to get up on the dragon with her so she can feel safe.

"it doesn't matter, all that I care about is that my baby is happy and healthy"

"Don't worry Mother, the north has been extremely good to me"

“For that I am certain, well then, let us celebrate, my little babe is having a little babe”

-

"It is good to see you back and we’ll, my lord"

"it is good to be back, especially with such a catch might I add, tell the cook to prepare the Stagg for supper, give the wild pig for you and the others"

"you are utmost gracious my lord, the princess is waiting for you in your chambers"

"wonderful, do not let anyone disturb us, I wish to stay by her side until supper is served"

Cregan skipped the way into his chambers, he was too caught up in the rush of the hunt and the excitement of reconnecting with his lady wife to notice the nods and stiff giggles of the servants and guards.

He didn't bother to knock, even if he was indecent there was nothing he hadn't seen, secretly he hoped to see her swollen belly bare, as it grew bigger Cregan had adored to kiss on her belly and rub it as he felt the kicks and moves of their child, together they would make plans for the future, like making sure the babe receives an egg for their cradle or getting a wolf cub as a pet.

"my de-"

"shush, you'll wake her"

medusa had cast her spell over Cregan as his eyes focused on the most extraordinary sight, his lady wife holding their babe while she sat up in their bed. (y/n) had never looked more beautiful in his eyes, her hair falling past her shoulders as her arms wrapped around the child and her big eyes sparkling with joy.

The baby was wrapped in a white blanket and (y/n) slightly rocked it, it almost could fool someone that (y/n) had already given birth to numerous children by the graciousness in her moves, Cregan could pull a chair and watch this for the rest of his days, alas his curiosity and excitement rushed him to her side, sitting right next to his lady wife in awe.

"bless me, when did this happen?"

"last morrow, the labors started hours after you left"

"my strong dragon, you did this without me, I must admit I am slightly wounded"

"I did not want to send someone until I delivered her, make sure she is fine and all"

if it was humanly possible Cregan would swear he could hear her trembling heart, as her pleading eyes uncovered the insufferable pain she went through that held hands tightly with distress and a splash of grief.

(Y/n) ached for the babe she had lost, wondering if it had been a boy to a girl, if it would have their father's eyes, or if they would prefer music over hunting, Cregan felt helpless, watching his love suffer as he also grieved in silence, though now it did not matter, the gods took mercy on them.

At just the perfect queue, the small babe cooed pulling both of them out of their trance, simultaneously the pair looked down at the fruit of their ever-growing bond with humungous smiles and cloudy eyes.

"she is gorgeous, once you fully heal we will throw a feast, I'll send some of my best men for a hunt, you should write to your mother, and ask her if she can find Dornish wine-"

"my lord, let us enjoy her before we present her to the realm, she is barely a morrow old"

"she is a princess, our princess"

"Precisely, our princess, come lay with us"

as much as (y/n) comprehends the weight of duty and the strict order of customs that came with such wonderful news, she had grown up with a mother who had wrapped her and her siblings with a cloak to protect their childhood years, allowing them to be kids amid chaos and now it was her time to step up and build a fort that kept her happy and safe.

Cregan puffed out a breath of defeat before he complied and climbed as carefully as a man of his statue could

“Let me see, oh perfect”

“She will grow out of it”

“She better not, maybe the next one can have slit eyes as well”

“My love, I do not believe I can give birth to a full dragon”

“One can only hope”

Cregan jested as (y/n) laughed, the young babe had inherited her mother's ears, Cregan would often brush (y/n) 's hair away from her face to take a look at her ears, or brush his fingers over them as she laid her head on his chest at night, sometimes (y/n) would slap away his hand while he roared with laughter, others she would just bask in his admiration, thanking whoever took favor in her and gave her the man that loved her, pointy ears and all.

Requests are open!

[stars-for-circe]

Firsts

Support Palestine

Tags / cw: weed, alcohol, implied making out, college party au, dealer!Ellie, tiny bit suggestive

The smell of weed was what first drew you outside to her. Well, it was a college party - there was going to be weed. But this was different. It was different. Somewhere, through that euphoric dizziness made from a punch that was more moonshine than mango juice, you smelled roses.

Like some fucked up cartoon, your feet carried your body out of the house, the air inside now warm from the oversupply of body heat and drunken dancing. God you were hot. A palm against your flushed red face once hidden from the colourful ambiance of the living room cooled you, as you weakly shoved your way around until you reached the door. Thank fuck.

“No, fuck-!”

You tripped. Either from your untied laces or the small ledge between tile kitchen and wooden porch, you couldn’t remember, but either way, you now found yourself face fucking first on the damp porch. Shit, you were drunk.

…And it felt nice. Really nice. So nice, in fact, that you couldn’t help but nestle your face against the cold floor, too focused on your slowing heart rate, your lowering temperature - the music from inside only detectable now in faint vibrations through the floor. You could stay here for a while, you thought. It was so quiet, and so cold and comfy,

“N’ it smells like roses…” you giggled to yourself.

“Yea? Think it’s just the weed, baby.” Ellie snickered to herself. And you jumped.

“Gah- holy shit!” You whisper-yelled and snapped your head up at her voice, body still splayed frozen like a starfish on the floor as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A couple metres in front of you sat Ellie Williams on the stairs, barely visible, and only by the small dot of light at the end of her joint and the soft glow of the street lamp.

She stared at you, while blinking slowly, a grin lazily painting itself across her face. You glared at her back, for destroying your peace, as she took another drag from that stupid joint. Your relaxed mind pinpointed the source of the roses - now stronger than ever - but it was too relaxed to understand what it really was. And Ellie noticed your staring.

“It’s uh, rose infused. My own special blend.” She waved it around as she spoke, looking proud of her creation. And the overstuffed baggie of cash by her side proved why.

“You wanna try some, cutie?”

You sat up at a leisurely pace, struggling a little in the dark. Then, you huffed out a laugh at this whole situation as you looked down at the floor in shame. Of all people you ran into, it was the fucking drug dealer. The only person you would have nothing in common with. You were 20 years old, for fucks sake, and you had never smoked weed.

“I um…can’t.”

“Why, already high? You look it.” She snickered again. Strong fucking strain, you thought.

“No, I just….can’t.”

“Oh.” Ellie furrowed her brows, leaning against the railing as she tried to find the words. God, this was so embarrassing, you just wanted to go back inside. And you almost did - twisting yourself around and leaning back on your feet to stand.

“…..want me to teach you?” She called out, waiting for your answer, and when you didn’t give one, she laughed, this time. Seriously, was it the fucking rose shit or what?

“Just-” Ellie tried saying, broken up with giggles.

“-come here. ‘M gonna try something.” Hesitantly, you tiptoed over to sit opposite her on the stairs, curious - and a little nervous - at what Ellie was planning. She took another deep drag, before sitting up straight and crossing her legs, focusing on you. And by now, you were blaming the butterflies in your stomach entirely on the alcohol.

“So, y’ever heard of shotgunning?”

Oh, fuck.

“Uh- yeah. Somewhat.”

And maybe if you weren’t so drunk, and if it wasn’t so dark, you would have noticed Ellie’s eyes trailing down to your lips. And maybe how her smart choice of shoes that night, a platform pair of converse, tucked itself perfectly between her legs - the slightest of pressure to ease the ache forming. But her eyes snapped back, all bleary and red, as she focused her attention back on making eye contact once again.

“And you won’t get nervous if I just…..get close or anything?” She was whispering now, already closing the distance bit by bit, a small smile adorning her face.

“No.”

She took another drag.

“And you won’t get nervous if I do this?” Her voice even softer now, as her hand - warm from resting in the pocket of her hoodie - gently cupped your face. The smoke coming from her mouth making your eyes water at the proximity, and the smell of roses making you heavy headed.

“No.” By now you were whispering, too. And she paused, eyes flicking to your lips again, this time lasting longer.

“Then close your eyes, baby.”

Through the rosy haze of weed smoke and alcohol, you could barely register her command, closing your eyes ever so slowly. You heard a small a small hitch of breath, and then a long deep puff of the joint in front of you. The hand cupping your face shifted slightly as Ellie rubbed her thumb gently along your skin, asking you to open your mouth. And when you did, you could have sworn you felt her thumb brush against your bottom lip, the both of you almost in a trance with each other, before the warm smoke blew into your mouth.

Fuck, was this really happening? You almost forgot to inhale it. But you did, in the end - the smell and taste of pungent weed lined with pink, airy roses sinking deep in your lungs. You let it sit there, resisting the strong urge to cough, before opening your eyes and exhaling slowly in tandem. And what a sight you were met with.

Ellie, with red, droopy eyes, mouth still open slightly as she watched your lips move and smoke billow out. Ellie, with the tiniest of curious smiles on her face as she watched your eyes slow to widen at the closeness of her face to yours. Ellie, coming even closer to your lips the longer you sat there.

“So, how’d you rate it?”

“Eh, a six….” You thought out loud.

“…I smell like roses now, though.” And you started giggling, as you stared at Ellie’s playfully unamused glare at your rating.

“First of all, fuck you - a six? Second of all, you smell like weed with roses.” She retorted, pinching your cheek softly. Fuck, her hand was still there, too. You tried to play your nervousness off, poking her in the centre of her chest as you tried to play back.

“And you smell good.” You whispered teasingly, leaning close once again. But Ellie, thank god for her higher tolerance, predicted exactly where you were going. Moving her hand from your cheek to the arm outstretched to her chest, pushing it to splay widely against her, trapping it there at the wrist, she met you in the middle. And your lips, between the thick smoke of it all, just breath touched. It went quiet again. But the heartbeat you felt between your fingers broke the silence each time it beat.

And you couldn’t see her expression so late at night - or so early in the morning, you should say - but the way her breath hitched, the way the soft beat of the music from inside of the house went quiet in your head, and the way the butterflies in your stomach became so very present-

“Do I smell good enough to kiss?”

You hesitated once again, hand once outstretched again her chest now closed in a loose fist.

“C’mon, baby…..you can’t do this, too?”

Oh, fuck you, you thought, stealing the joint and taking a hard drag, much to Ellie’s surprise - and amusement.

“Yeah, you gonna teach me or what, Williams?”

The joint now smoked the the butt, and crumbling to bits as Ellie scoffed, snatching it out of your grasp and flicked it onto the driveway. Both her hands free now as they grabbed your face and pulled you in.

“Better be more than a six…”

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[nyx-express]

Pink.

Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)

Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.

Word count: 4k

Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]

It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny. 

Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”

She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”

“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”

“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”

“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed. 

“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.

Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please. 

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant. 

Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return. 

They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.

But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.

“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.

His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?" 

“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”

His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.” 

“Not the feeding. The kissing.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”

“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”

His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.” 

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips. 

Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”

“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him. 

“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms. 

She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness. 

“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.

Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.

“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.

Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.

“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple. 

She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”

When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body. 

Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”

Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess. 

Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!” 

There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”

He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again. 

“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.

“Wait,” she said, despite herself.

He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.

“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.

“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.

Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”

The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”

He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.

He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core. 

She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy. 

“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.” 

All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her. 

It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god. 

“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace. 

Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.

He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”

She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.

She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her. 

She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.

Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”

He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”

“What’s the matter then?”

He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”

Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”

Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”

She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot. 

“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.

“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”

That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers. 

“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.” 

Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers. 

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”

Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”

“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her. 

Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.

They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.

@bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[amourane]

blooming love

pairing: kim mingyu x fairy!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 1.5k

summary: in which mingyu follows you around like a hopeless puppy in love, hoping that he'll work up the courage to talk to you one day.

warnings: reader does fall into a river

a/n: i'm in my magical era <3

Spring was Mingyu’s favourite time of the year. He adored the sweet aroma of flowers, the bright colours of the blossoms that would paint the landscape. There was something so magical about the season. Earth would awake from its peaceful slumber and burst into life. The lilac chrysanthemums and golden daffodils, blush pink tulips and violet bluebells. The playful chirping of birds, the buzzing of bees, and the rustling of leaves created a symphony of sounds. 

Mingyu loved to wander through the fields and gardens, breathing in the fresh, fragrant air and soaking up the vibrant colours. He loved to lay in the grass and stare up into the cotton like clouds as they floated by. The sun would beam down basking him in comforting warmth.

Yet the thing Mingyu loved most about Spring was you.

His beautiful fairy. 

Spring was the time that you shine your brightest. Your wings glittered in the sunlight, delicate and translucent, glittering with every colour of the rainbow. Sparkle and dust would be left with every magnificent beat as you flew and fluttered like a butterfly. Your skin glowed as if you had been blessed by moonlight and Mingyu could never forget the tinkling laugh that would grace his ears. It would echo through his mind constantly reminding him of you and your everlasting beauty.

Mingyu loved to watch as you chatted excitedly to the newborn animals and as you swept your hand through the small streams of water. He had always admired you from afar, staring as you eagerly helped others. He loved everything about you and though the two of you had never spoken he could feel himself falling more every day.

He just never knew that you felt the same.

// 

You had always known you were being followed by the human boy. You could always sense his presence near you, alway there quietly. There were a few times that he would step on a twig accidentally and you would hear the squeak of surprise from behind you as he hurriedly hid behind the tree. 

The two of you had never spoken before and though you knew of the human that trailed after you, you never made the move to call him out of his hiding spot. 

Over time you had caught glimpses of him. Dark wavy hair, big innocent eyes. He was cute, undeniably so. All your life you had been surrounded by beauty yet when your eyes lay on him you felt your world explode in new colour. The beauty you once knew was long forgotten and you found yourself away from the fairy realm more often than usual. Even if he didn’t speak, his mere presence was enough to light a fire in your heart.

Every week or so you would emerge and tend to nature, sing sweet melodies and engage in conversation with the animals and critters. All of this while you felt his eyes gazing at you. You could never work up the courage to ask the mysterious human for his name. Something stopped you every time you would try to approach him and you often found yourself too scared to confront him.

So you were content as it was. At least you tried to tell yourself so.

It was on one afternoon that you had simply been sitting on the grass near the river. You watched as the sunlight glimmered against the ripples of water as the fish swam past. The flowers against the banks of the water swayed gently to the breeze. You dipped your hand into the water feeling the coolness touch your skin. The fairy realm had always been beautiful but the mystery and intrigue of human’s had always tempted you. 

You sighed as you got ready to head back to your home. You dusted your hands against your dress, fluttering your wings at the motion. Suddenly, you felt a tug on your foot and everything tumbled into your view. You shrieked as you felt yourself fall and you tried desperately to react but it was no use. You felt your body plunge into the water and you squeezed your eyes shut, terrified of what was to come. Your wings felt heavy on your back and it was no use trying to use them when they were soaked. You reached out, arms desperately clawing at the surface of the water yet you found yourself sinking deeper and deeper.

Water invaded your senses and you felt your movements slow. A splash erupted through the river, and though your eyes were closed, you felt a strong arm circle around your waist. You felt yourself get pulled into someone’s grasp and you urged yourself to open your eyes. 

There he was. Your human.

He was even prettier up close. You gasped in shock at the sight. The man’s eyes widened in panic and you belatedly realised why as you felt the air leave your lungs at your stupid action. Before you can react his lips were on yours. You freeze. Even underwater his lips felt soft and plush. As lovely as the gesture was you couldn’t reciprocate as you felt your eyes flutter shut and the last breaths of air leave your body.

//

Mingyu was in absolute shambles. He hadn’t meant to just kiss you out of the blue, he really didn’t! It was just as soon as he saw the bubbles leave your mouth and he realised that you were lacking oxygen he thought of the only thing he could do. Give you some of his own. It wasn’t a very wise decision but then again Kim Mingyu wasn’t known for making many wise decisions.

He had heaved your limp body out of the river frantically trying to get you to wake up. You felt cold and your wings lay heavy on your back. Even unconscious you looked mesmerising. 

The second he had witnessed you tripping and falling into the river he had rushed out to help you, diving into the water with no hesitation. He saw the splashes as your fingertips grazed the surface of the water, a desperate cry for help. Saving you was the only thing on his mind at that moment in time.

“Stupid, stupid stupid.” Mingyu’s head was in his hands as he cursed himself yet again. “Why would you do that Kim Mingyu? You’ve really gone insane now. Oh no, what if she doesn’t wake up? Have I killed a fairy?”

“Mingyu. That’s a pretty name.” Your voice was croaky but nonetheless it caused the man’s head to whip around to your frail frame. His eyes widened as he watched as you lifted yourself off the ground he had laid you on. “I thought it was about time I learnt the name of the human who had been following me around.”

The smile you gave Mingyu made his heart swell and pound out of his chest. He felt his heartbeat pulse and each contraction made his blood spur with excitement. Your gaze felt like an enchantment and he couldn’t help but be enraptured at your stare. 

“I-I’m so sorry!” He felt himself turn red as the words left his mouth. “I swear I only wanted to provide you with some air, I would never kiss someone without consent!”

He held his hands up as if to surrender to you and you giggled at his action. Your wings were still wet yet they still had the iridescent glimmer that was simply just so magical.

“It’s okay, I understand. Thank you so much for saving me. There’s no need to apologise, I appreciate the thought, it was very sweet.” Mingyu watched as your cheeks flushed as well and you cleared your throat. “I quite enjoyed the kiss.”

“W-Wha…sorry - I’m sorry - did you just say that you…enjoyed it?”

“Yes.” You gripped your hands in your lap, nervousness suddenly overwhelming you. “I know you’ve been watching me for a while and I know I can’t complain because I didn’t approach you either but I was just waiting for you to come up to me. I’ve grown quite fond of you, you see, I guess that could be seen as weird because we’ve never actually ever spoken.”

“You’ve grown fond…of me?” Mingyu spluttered, unable to string a sentence when you nodded your head in agreement. The gorgeous fairy that he was so in love with was interested in him. Oh how lucky he was. 

“I hope that now we can actually meet each other and speak. I’ve been dying to get to know you.” 

Your smile felt as if heaven itself had opened its grand doors for Mingyu. He felt himself blush bright red at your words. He opened his mouth to respond but he was irrevocably tongue-tied in front of you. Your eyes twinkled and Mingyu felt his heart race as he tried to muster up the courage to say what he’s been wanting to say since the first day he met you.

“I’ve been dying to get to know you as well.”

[aklaustaleteller]

Some Invisible String

Ever since the news of Klaus' death reached her, Y/n's heart remained shattered as she happily accepted the sole purpose of her immortal life to be mourning her love. But then a looming shadow out of the Mystic Grill catches her attention and to whom is it that some invisible string had tied to her for centuries?

Warnings - a lot of grief in the beginning but it ends happily I swear! Word Count - 1.9k

And part two to 'Should've known' is here!! I don't know how the hell did I manage to involve the song Invisible String into this, but it's turned out to be quite cute in my opinion, so I hope you like it as well <3

Y/n lived on to live a life as merely a withered shell of who she used to be. That new vampire girl who had found solace in Klaus’s human arms and in art, the one who had just begun falling back in love with life was long gone, stripped off of Y/n as if she’d been skinned alive.

Doing anything sent a heartstopping wave of hurt rippling through her flesh and bones. When she breathed it felt like air burned her lungs and tried to strangle her heart, leaving her mouth as she'd wake up gasping for it to return back inside and finish the job. 

Tears pricked her eyes each night, her sniffles blocking out the air making her throat feel like it was being ripped out, her lungs and heart as if they were collapsing. That’d be, until she’d finally fall into that peaceful slumber in which she’d always return to lay in Klaus’ arms after being torutured by the grief that consumed her wholly.  

So wholly that her sole purpose for the immortal life ahead of her felt like it was to mourn and grieve her love. Something that she’d been willing to do just to preserve her love for him, for always and forever. 

But living in a world that took birth, grew old and then died, Y/n could go anywhere she wanted, anywhere but home to Klaus. She was left with no other option than to just flee before she could even mistakenly call a place her home. 

It had been three hundred years. Three hundred years of restless nights, lifeless days and a heartless blood thirst that had her leaving a trail of blood behind on her move. So many years spent hiding her face beneath cloak-hoods, running into other supernatural creatures who were immediately frightened by her post in the vampire chart, and running away from the stupidly careless killers who couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that were she to die, every single vampire would end up dead too. 

It was rare for her to lose her patience, but it happened nonetheless – on the nights that she wanted to be wanted, to be loved and to be held so desperately that she couldn’t bear sight of a beating heart that was caged in the warmth of another’s safe hands.

No matter where she went, she couldn’t forget about him. It had taken her a while to realise that she didn’t want to forget him,  but in the meantime that she hadn’t, she had turned away from everything else that she loved. From art, to history. Everything. 

She avoided all of her dark red dresses as they reminded her of him never once failing to tell her how much he loved the colour on her, so much so that he’d bring that colour to her face while he’d slowly slip the dress off of her. So gentle was his heart that he even loved the crimson red that would slip out of the corners of her mouth when she’d feed, either off of him or anyone else – the way he’d wipe it off for her, and kiss her on the very same lips made her heart race to the point that she felt like she might just die from his touch. 

On letting another hand graze her frame, she couldn’t help but stop it before things could escalate because her heart couldn’t let her mind to just let go for a little. Looks of disappointment and calls of slurs would be thrown at her by betrayed men, smirks or sympathetic looks passed to her by women who were witnesses to the assault.

Despite the cunning shards of her broken heart cutting her on the insides, she woke up every day and went outside to explore, just so that she could tell Klaus about it on starry nights, which were getting rarer and rarer in some places, Y/n had realised. 

Just like every other morning since the past fifty or so years, she woke up and got decent before leaving her house. This day, she was walking the streets of Mystic falls, a small town that might’ve been attracting a little too much trouble than it can handle. And it was always the teenage girl with two vampires brooding over her who seemed to be the main magnetic pull, taking everyone who loved her with her into the dark pit that she’d dug herself.

Strolling inside the Mystic Grill, Y/n looked around and her eyes quickly met with the raven-haired man’s, who waved at her like he was a Villain going around toying with people like his puppets. It made her chuckle but despite that, she walked over to him and sat on one of the bar stools beside him. 

“One Old fashioned please,” she told the bartender before turning to face him with a smile on her face. “So Damon, got another deal to make this morning?” She teased him, smirking once he was rolling his eyes. 

“You know me so well,” with a sarcastic smile, Damon downed the rest of his drink. “And yes, I have got one,” he admitted, still. 

Since she’d set foot in this town, the whiny group that consisted of him and his friends had been breathing down her neck, trying to strike a deal with her left right and centre as if she was going to say yes just out of pure annoyance. 

And they should’ve caught by now, the fact that she wasn’t one to lose patience over such lousy things but she didn’t mind the constant bother, it kept her busy and a little entertainer, dare she say. 

She would even sit with them in their boarding house and point out the unimaginably huge plot holes in their plans that led Damon to slam her into a wall with his hand around her neck. “You make one for her if you’re so clever, then,” he’d snarl and before he could let her go, she’d have smashed his face right into the wall she’d been pinned to. 

“How stupid do you have to be to make such mistakes is beyond me,” she’d sighed. “One of these days you’re going to get your heart bloody ripped out,” she almost advised him, narrowing her eyes when he rolled his, holding his head in pain. 

But still, because she’d crashed into people who were somewhat similar to her and didn’t need to hide from, she found herself wanting to stay a little longer, maybe she was finally going to let it rest and begin picking up the pieces of her broken heart. She doubted she was ever going to be able to put it back together, but at least she would have them picked up. 

“What is it?” She asked Damon, knowing that even he knew that it’d be rejected the moment he’d spill it.  

“We are going to kill Katherin…” Damon trailed off, not even meeting her eyes because despite the fact that he’d convinced everyone back at the house, he knew that this was nothing but a dire call for a mess out of stupidity. 

They sat in there for a while, Y/n pointing out mistakes and Damon glaring at her before fixing the hole and moving on. The time had quickly escaped them and as their conversation neared an end, a strong force of gravity began pulling her heart down into her stomach, knowing that the restless night was finally creeping up on her, all over again.

She hugged him quite awkwardly because of Damon’s disdain regarding touch, and walked behind him as they exited the place. The sun had begun setting, causing the anxiousness inside Y/n to begin eating away at her for the night. “I hope I won’t have to see you tomorrow, you exhaust my brain,” Y/n mumbled, fishing out her car keys. 

“Oh c’mon, you know my stupidity will kill me,” he repeated her words, making her roll her eyes with a grin forming on her face. Biding their goodbyes, Damon crossed the road to walk home while Y/n went to her right, towards her car. 

And it was then when she noticed a dark figure looming in the shadows, making her clutch her keys tighter. God, she truly wasn’t in the mood to kill today. 

“And you are?” She asked, still at the very distance that she’d stalled at, her vamp-instincts buzzing underneath her skin, preparing her to defend herself from a possible attack and to kill the darer. 

The man walked out of the shadows then, the streetlight shining down on him. He slowly raised his gaze but when it landed on her face, all arrogance and smugness dropped down from his face as he felt his breathing come to an abrupt stop.

Y/n knew she most likely had the same expression on her face as the man standing in front of her, and she began taking hindering and wobbly steps towards him. “Is that you, Nik?” She breathed, her whisper loud enough to be caught by his mystical hearing. 

When he didn’t move an inch, her hand frantically moved to place itself on his neck. “Niklaus?” She called louder this time, bringing him out of his trance as a sudden rush of air hit his lungs. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, his hand coming to hold hers and in whoosh they had their arms wrapped so tightly around each other that it was a surprise not a bone had cracked. Klaus’ body immediately came to rest as it remembered this feeling to be the very same as when Y/n used to hold him, back in the days. 

Klaus was really here and she was in his arms, and he was holding onto her with just as much desperation as she was.

She brought herself away from his neck, tears leaking out of her eyes as she scanned his face. “How?” Her question came out in a breath that Klaus immediately sucked in, pressing his lips to hers. 

Passion coursed through their bodies as Y/n’s body moulded itself around Klaus’ to grasp at every scrap of touch it could find. Her hands clutched the collars of his jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to herself while she pushed herself into him, her nose smushing against his cheek.

And Klaus’s shoulders were bunched up beside his neck as his hands cupped her cheeks, holding her still as his tongue clashed with hers, eager to claim back what's been his for a long time. 

To catch their breaths, they broke the kiss but Klaus made sure he was still holding her and he looked into her eyes when she rested her forehead against his’. 

“It was your blood,” Klaus smiled at her, watching something light up within her eyes on realisation.

“I’ve spent all these years looking for you,” he continued, pressing a quick kiss on her mouth. “It was as if there was some invisible string, tying me to you,” he looked at her so softly with tears reddening his eyes that Y/n couldn’t help but let slip a broken sob, her face wet with her own tears. 

“Isn’t it so pretty to think?” She asked him, voice barely above a whisper as her mouth brushed against his when she spoke. “That a single thread of gold tied me to you?”

[flamingpudding]

do you still take requests? if you do can you write your take on this idea https://www.tumblr.com/ilydana/746501696852819968/cloneclonedbatman?source=share

Thanks for the Ask! That's is an interesting one!

Also as long as I can write something to it I don't mind getting requests, if I can't I will let people know if I can. So no worries about that K?

Out of courtesy and because I believe its is the right thing to do here the Link and a Tag to the original writer @ilydana I hope you don't mind that I am taking inspiration from you for this.

Also I don't know Conners Timeline well and I like to base my writings on the Wayne Family Adventures settings so.... yea sorry if I got some facts wrong....

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

Clone double Wamy

Thinks were never easy for the Waynes, Bruce realised that when he sat in the meeting room. Usually he would have confronted his best friend in a more private setting, like when it was just the two of them or only Diana with them. But his best friend had been grating on his nerves with this for a while now. Bruce had honestly believed Clark had gotten better with the whole Clone thing but apparently he hadn't.

"All I am saying is that Conner is a person and to stop referring to him as 'it'." Bruce wasn't sure what had this brought on but maybe it was also having listened to his own kids rants about the way Conner had been and sometimes still was treated by Clark. Usually when someone called his friend out on it he would laugh awkwardly and say it was a slip of the tongue. That he still wasn't completely used to the idea of having a clone.

It's been years and Bruce wasn't buying that excuse anymore.

Well his persistent nagging had now caused this petty fight in front of everyone. He knew his children present, Dick and Tim, would have his back as well as most of their friends. But he also knew that those that prefer to keep the peace would try to argue in Clarks favor to sweep this hole problem under the rug once more.

"You don't get what it is like to be cloned or how long it takes to get used to it!"

His eye twitched under his cowl, he could also feel his kids tense up, especially Tim. His entire family had expirence when it came to cloning. The number of labs from the LoA they had shut down and destroyed was a testament to it. But there was one thing his entire Family aside from Alfred didn't know either.

"I actually do."

He stated calmly watching Clarks reaction as he stared unwaveringly at his best friend. He could see the colour drain, the paling and the pure look of disbelief he was getting, while Nightwing and Red Robin stood up to stand behind him with crossed arms. They probably thought he was referencing the time they had to fight Damian's Clones that sadly couldn't be saved like Conner had been.

"What do you....?" His best friend started but wasn't able to finish his question as Bruce decided to rip the bandaid off.

"The original Bruce Wayne died before he even was one month old. My parents, unable to cope with the loss cloned the baby with the help of a pair of scientist from Illinois." If the situation was different he might have laughed into the faces the people around him were making, not very Batman like of him but it was kind of funny. Still he was thankful for the comforting hand his son, Dick, placed on his shoulder or the way his other son, Tim inched closer protectively like. These two while probably shocked still stood by his side.

"And i was not the only clone that resulted from my parents original grief."

He left it at that as he stood and left the meeting without any further explanation. Bruce had made his point clear, now the ball was in his friends court. He was thankful that his kids followed him out as he went straight to the Zeta-Tubes to return to the Batcave. He knew his kids had questions for him, but he was not willing to answer them in front of the other heroes and thankfully his kids knew that that. So they silently followed him until they were back to the cave.

"B?" Dick asked tentatively once they were back in the came.

"It is as simply as I stated. My parents grieved the loss of their original son and unable to cope they cloned their own child with the help of a pair of scientist." He reiterated his earlier statement not looking at the two at first. For a brief moment he was thankful his other kids were out and about busy with other things.

"A pair of scientists?" Tim propped further and Bruce sighed wondering how much he should tell or if he could keep some things secret.

"Family actually. Estranged but they were... are family." He nodded. "The Fentons. Jack Fenton was my fathers cousin. Because of his field of research he got estranged from the family, not fitting into the perfect image my great grandparents had in mind for the Waynes originally. My father contacted him for help regarding the cloning back then."

"You said you weren't the only one?" He gave Tim a small smile, it was just like him to catch on to the small details and focus his questions on that.

"I didn't know until many years later when my parents died." He smiled a little remembering back to his training with Lady Gotham and how she asked him if he had siblings and then proceeded to introduce him to his clone twin. Ever since then Danny had become quite the fixture in his life, a reconnected family member. Though they had needed a lot of help when it came to actually speaking with each other but that thankfully Danny's sister Jazz helped.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when he noticed Dick's stare of realisation. "Uncle Danny!"

Bruce just smirked, chuckling lightly as he gave his eldest a slight nod. "Danny."

Dick was the most familiar with Danny having meet the other a couple of times when he was younger and just started out as Robin. Bruce wasn't ashamed to say that Danny and Alfred had been the two he had asked for advice the most when he had taken Dick in back then. Danny had already expirence in raising kids from an even younger age than Bruce had. That their two cousins Dan and Danielle were in a way clones too was however something he would not be telling his kids yet. Frankly it wasn't his place and honestly if Danny hadn't become as comfortable as he had with this fact over the year he wouldn't have outed his clone twin to his kids either.

"So...." Tim started, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "...what now? Not that it will change anything now but uh...."

"Nothing really? I mean if Clark still got a problem then well I guess we don't have a super uncle anymore? But hey maybe we could introduce Uncle Danny to Conner?" Dick shrugged turning to Tim.

"But that would mean we admit to Uncle Danny that B let us in in the secret and that could make things awkward and..."

"Tim you are overthinking! It will be fine!"

Bruce smiled as he watched his two sons start to argue wether or not to introduce Danny to Conner. Well even if they did Danny wouldn't mind it. In fact Bruce had kept his clone twin updated on a lot of things that happened with his work as Batman. One of the reasons was that Danny had started out in the hero business way sooner than Bruce had but also because Danny was his last resort contingency plan against everything.

His twin would probably laugh in their faces and ask why it took them so long to introduce them and then drag his own daughter to meet Conner so they could have some 'clone'-bonding time and knowing Danielle, she was going to drag Dan along and then Bruce himself too. Bruce chuckled at that thought, he also knew that if Clark doesn't clean up his act than Danny would most likely swoop in and adopt Conner right out of under Clarks nose.

Well all he had to say if it came to that was that his best friend wouldn't be able to blame anyone but himself then.