#night after night they reveal knowledge

[aspirant1598]

[belphieslilcow]

dillys gets frustrated and goes on a rant in the tags teehee ~ ⋆｡°✩

[lightseoul]

a/n. once again, i have been inspired by a random instagram reel. i didn't even watch it, really—i just saw the keyword and was immediately spurred into writing this. enjoy <3 (0.9k)

you feel his gaze on you before you even think of meeting it.

“what,” you state more than ask when he doesn’t let up after a minute, not bothering to look up from the book you’re reading.

a scoff resounds from his direction. then: “too lazy to even move your shitty eyes?”

“don’t have to,” you retort as you finally close the paperback, shifting in your bed to regard him. “you’re boring holes into my face with all that staring.”

from where he’s seated at your dining table, bakugou grumbles, although he doesn’t deny the allegations. your face softens when you realize belatedly that he’s being awfully quiet—a jarring juxtaposition to his usual brashness.

something’s up.

but you know better than to pry it from him.

you mentally sigh. the roundabout way it is.

“what, am i extra pretty today?” you joke out of your ass, and that catches him off guard because he chokes on his own spit. that wasn’t part of the plan but you can’t help it—you laugh as he coughs his lungs out, somehow managing to throw in a curse or two in between rasps.

“shitty fucking—” he hacks some more, and when he finally recovers: “i don’t know why i fucking put up with you.”

you shrug, not at all hurt by the otherwise scathing statement. he’s said that to you too many times to count and yet, he’s still here. hanging out with you in your apartment on a friday night, no less.

you don’t point out any of that, though, confident that said knowledge is true enough for the both of you to leave it unspoken. so instead, you continue down the jesting route. “you wouldn’t know how to talk to girls without me, that’s why.”

“fuck off,” he tosses without missing a beat. “i can get the fuck by without your shitty ass guidance.”

that makes you grin, because no, he definitely can’t. how can he when he refuses to do the very first step? as in, choose a girl to talk to?

you know, someone who isn’t you.

his reluctant (best) friend.

and as if he read your mind, he shoots you a pointed look. “and i told you,” he hisses, “you use up all my fuckin’ tolerance. can’t have another girl around because you drive me crazy enough.”

“thanks, kats. i love you, too.”

“whatever,” he answers petulantly as he looks away, although you catch wind of the faint tinge of pink spreading across his cheeks like it always does when you shower him with affection—to his chagrin.

“so…” you start when neither of you says anything for a moment, “am i extra pretty today? or do you wanna share, i don’t know, something.”

“if i spit it out, will you fucking stop badgering me about how you look? you haven’t even showered today, for fuck’s sake.”

a pillow is flung across the room before you can think against it.

“wha—” he gets out instinctively before dodging it with ease. you roll your eyes as he flashes you a victorious smirk. of course. of all the jobs he could have in the world, he had to be a pro-hero and have the signature pro-hero reflexes.

his countenance then morphs as he stares at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, and you have to bite back the fuck you that’s dangling at the tip of your tongue. instead, you give him a curt nod, feigning nonchalance to further coax him into spilling whatever’s in his mind.

“go on,” you press when he doesn’t follow it up immediately after.

“i’m getting to it, alright? jesus.”

a pause.

then, another.

and when you’re finally convinced he’s just playing with you and won’t reveal whatever secret he’s got hidden behind the vault he calls his lips, he says it.

“i’m getting a vasectomy.”

you blink at him.

that was not what you were expecting.

“wh—what?”

you can only watch him in utter bewilderment as he flushes, covering up his fluster with a glare. “you heard me.”

“but, kats,” you begin, not knowing how to say the next bit, “…you’re a virgin. and you’ve never been with anyone romantically.”

the pink from earlier instantly deepens into a scarlet. “so what, hah? you’re the one to talk!”

“no, no,” you manage to respond, slowly shaking your head. you have no idea what’s happening. “that wasn’t meant to be a roast. like, at all. it’s just…why?”

bakugou doesn’t answer right away, instead choosing to press his lips into a thin line.

“you said it yourself, didn’t you?” he says after a while, voice uncharacteristically hushed, as if he doesn’t want you to hear him. you lean in ever so minutely, straining to listen from a few feet away.

“said wait?” you ask, matching the stillness of his tone.

“that birth control fucks you up.”

at that, you barely manage to school your shock into a neutral expression, although it’s definitely your heart that’s suddenly hammering wildly against your chest at his admission. you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. his gaze is dizzyingly penetrating as you struggle to get your words out, until you finally manage a warbled “y-yeah.”

he probably meant that birth control fucks you—women—up, and not you you.

yeah, that’s definitely it.

with this new strand of knowledge, you’re able to muster a genuine smile his way. “that’s very thoughtful of you, kats.”

and just because you like to be sure of things, you throw in the next thing for good measure.

“she’ll be very lucky to have you.”

silence.

“hah?!”

(the keyword was vasectomy lol) (petition for more birth control methods for men)

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[dragon-ascent]

Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.

Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.

Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.

Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.

Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.

“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”

Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”

He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.

One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…

But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”

You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.

(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)

He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:

“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”

[anantaru]

— his love language

including. diluc, wriothesley, kazuha, neuvillette, ayato, scaramouche, kaeya, childe

genre. fluff & crack, gn! reader

at a regular pace, diluc opens up to you and with such, he reveals that to him actions spoke louder than words, mainly when it came to your loving relationship. the master of the dawn winery wasn't one of sensual speech, in fact, sometimes he was simply at loss of words— hence why showing you instead was all the more easy. it begins in his eyes, how they're always focused on your frame and immediately pick up on when you feel fatigued, the weary expression on your face worrying him the moment you step inside. voicelessly, diluc guides you to your shared bedroom before telling you to relax— afterwards he'll pamper you, boundlessly, do whatever you need him to do even if it consisted of multiple tasks. easy to say, he will still check up on you, be there for you and most importantly, always anticipate your needs, never failing to provide support without hesitation.

everyone knows that words hold the power to uplift and reassure people and their souls, in addition to building bridges between two individuals and so did wriothesley find this to be the most wonderful gift on this planet. he speaks through heartfelt compliments he'd never let you pass on, encouraging affirmations whenever you had a bad day or an artful expression of his emotions through his phrases. within the lively city of fontaine, the man will watch you with earnest eyes and swollen cheeks, "you're so pretty, so beautiful," he was silly, right? making you flustered in front of everyone, yet his words flow like poetry, forcing you to melt as he expressed admiration for your person— a verbal drapery woven with sincerity and love.

since you have been in a relationship for quite a long time, you were aware of kazuha and himself being an adventurer at heart, never failing to perceive solace and joy in the quiet moments shared with you. it doesn't matter where you are, but when he invites you on a journey, you know it's going to end up becoming one of your most dearest memories. in the quietness of the night, kazuha's presence was a calming force and to him, love was found in the gift of uninterrupted time spent together, immersed in meaningful conversations and shared experiences, tender kisses and subtle touches. the connection you had was strong— everlasting, the presence and the beauty within embracing each passing moment.

neuvillette held a lot of personal knowledge which he accumulated throughout the trajectory of his life, although when it came to the relationship aspect of things, he was rather inexperienced. when you two started dating he picked up the habit of expressing himself through physical touch— not necessarily in a sexual way, but in the reassuring kind which brought forth tenderness and closeness, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or a comforting embrace after a long day. the iudex was fluent in intimacy, connection, and the sacred power of making you feel loved in the simplicity of his touch. without wasting time, he always has one arm around you or loved holding your hand as you settle down on his lap, perhaps even offering to massage your shoulders with his soothing touch.

granted, from an outside perspective seeing ayato spoil you with artificial goods might come across as insincere, yet people do not realize that every single gift had a special meaning attached to it. the yashiro commissioner always took it serious, going through the carefully selected goods as he prepared a custom order, securing the gift with a personal meaning and significance. expressing his love for you through gifts and handmade material shone of thoughtfulness and well, there was one necklace that might be your all time favorite. it was when he surprised you with it on your anniversary— and as you inspected it much closer, you admired the complexly designed metal with symbols of his love and the harmony in your relationship— it's utterly beautiful, you tell him as he helped you put the necklace on, the little diamonds attached to it reflecting a deep appreciation and desire to convey his feelings to you.

opening up was hard for scaramouche, yet he realized that if he wanted this relationship with you to be harmonic, he needed to learn and work on it. the moment you feel him open up to you, you couldn't be happier, truly— not only was it a clear sign of effort on his part, but also the willingness to share a hidden piece of himself. despite his rather aloof demeanor, he possessed a subtle way of showing you his trust, in fact, he always needs you to show him that you accept his past no matter what. was it tiresome? not at all, despite some people believing that a relationship like that could become troubling in the future. yet they cannot fathom the deep link you both have and how it came to be. ah well, how beautiful when he holds you in his arms and kisses your forehead before starting to open up, your expression softening momentarily at the calm look in his eyes. it's right there, look close now, when you catch a rare glimpse of appreciation and a hint of vulnerability beneath his composed facade. he's in love, truly, and so are you.

a world without laughter, sounds scary, correct? kaeya believes that everything works more efficiently if you add a little comedy on the side. in your relationship, there was nothing he adored more that laughing together— because in a way, it felt like it strengthened your bond and eased the burdens in your life. spontaneity was another important aspect, you'll never know what the charismatic cavalry captain has in store for you next and you couldn't help but love that about him. really, he had a magical power for defusing tension with a well-timed joke or cheeky banter, finishing it off with messy kisses all over your face and demanding for you to give him a kiss back, in fact, as one might already guess, a world without laughter and without kisses might be straight hell in all of teyvat.

the eleventh harbinger's heart burnt for two different things— first of all it being you, his loved one which he would quite literally do anything for you to be happy, while the second being the thrill of adventure and the willingness to embrace spontaneity, face challenges head-on and earn boastful scars all over his body as a form of trophy. childe's enthusiasm was contagious to the point where the both of you would go on adventures together, or simply try out new things in order to feel a shared sense of adrenaline. freedom was everything in his life, but what mattered the most is for you to be safe— hence why he would never put you in any danger, instead he'd rather get in trouble himself so you could patch him up afterwards. childe knows it's not healthy to get himself hurt on purpose, but feeling you take care of him with your soft hands tracing all over his chest was making it worth it in his eyes.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about “nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore” + using sex to get our favorite insomniac Mr. Stank to take a break from work and come to bed?

Old tricks

A/N: I was waiting for this prompt, can’t believe it was in my inbox the whole time and I missed it. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warning: 18+ sex themes, fluff

.

“How long has it been since he last took a nap, FRI?” You sighed, closing the book you were currently reading before stifling a yawn.

Thirty eight hours and counting, Mrs. Stark.

He was at it again. After promising that he would join you in bed early today, Tony Stark was still in the basement, nose deep in inventing yet another device that would potentially save the universe.

Rolling your eyes you threw the sheets off of your legs, rummaging through your closet to find the oldest trick in the book of ‘Getting your husband to obey’.

A set of lingerie was usually your go to but tonight, you decided on going down to his lab wearing nothing but a silky robe that you planned on discarding the moment he would lay eyes on you.

Overriding his protocol with FRIDAY’S help, you entered his lab and were met with an immediate blast of cold air; it fortunately worked in your favour, pebbling your nipples and making them evident against the flimsy piece of fabric.

Your husband stood hunched over his table that displayed varied diagrams and models with a blue glowing light that made his features appear exhausted. He probably was. Not that he would ever admit.

“Hello husband.”

You murmured, hugging the man from behind and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his tight muscles against your soft flesh, the contrast making you frown.

Tony sighed, melting against your touch immediately, as his hands stopped working to cover yours in a reassuring way.

“Are you planning on warming your side of the bed any time soon? Perhaps your wife would like some company too..”

Turning in your arms, he leaned in to kiss your lips in a wordless apology before stopping, his strained eyes grazing down your form, taking you in.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“What?” You feigned innocence, grabbing his hands and bringing them to the front of your robe, beginning to unfasten the ties.

Letting out a defeated grunt, Tony’s head planted itself against your shoulder, stopping your movements at once.

“Nope. No. Nada. No using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore.” You grinned because his voice lacked conviction, and the fact that he hadn’t pushed you away meant you had already won.

“Isn’t it?”

You smirked, undoing the belt completely now to reveal what the robe barely covered. Opening an eye, Tony drank your glorious self in, not finding enough reason to resist. With your nipples turned into buds and the glistening between your thighs, he was powerless.

Tony Stark simply wasn’t built to resist your persuasion.

Taking the robe off completely, you stepped back and turned to head out of his lab, throwing the robe over the shoulder with a knowledge that it had probably landed on his head.

“You’re just gonna wander around the house naked now?” He called after you, cock stirring in his pants at the sight of your curves sashaying their way out, just for him as you shrugged in response.

“Maybe I’ll try another good old trick. Perhaps that toy you designed for our anniversary?”

There was a curse word uttered under his breath before Tony Stark shut off his lab for the night and made a beeline in your direction, refusing to let his wife pleasure herself with anything that wasn’t his cock or tongue.

Find Part 2 here!

[lamamasjamas]

To Serve or Indulge

Summary: Your sensitivity to darkness leads you to a path of vices.

A/n: Saw a tweet that said that Sith should seduce Jedi to the dark side with lust and I thought that was so true. Canon isn’t real to me so reader is a Jedi Sentinel who specializes in being a shadow agent. 🤗

Warnings: Allusion to dubcon smut, freaky foreplay dreams, JediShadow!Reader, a slice of what’s to come… 🤫

Tah’Nuhna. Cold, peaceful, neutral. The order kept a close eye on the Tah’Nuhnans. You were lured there for a reason.

Neutrality meant they never picked sides. It also meant it was a safe haven, for light and dark alike. The darkness was pungent as you wandered the streets of the crystallized city.

The penetrating reflections of the structures shine onto you and make you wince in irritation as you were led to your temporary quarters

The same darkness you’ve tracked has kept you up at night for months. It infiltrates your dreams. It would envelope you every night, making your heart pump, your skin dew in anticipation.

A red flame would catch your eye and before you knew it a heat was upon your neck like a bolt.

You’d wake up with fear and your hands would tremble to your side instinctively. You’d forget that your blade was stored at your bedside.

A shadow can only make itself known with light. Some of your companions would question the existence of your sect. You would question their own devotion to the light.

It was a necessity to act ruthlessly in order to snuff them out. Amulets, talismans, and artifacts of the Sith were still passed and traded throughout the galaxy.

Less so after a millennia of Jedi intervention. But the danger of Sith influence was always a concern to the council.

Despite what they might discuss with others.

Oftentimes, extreme measures were taken to disrupt the spread of Sith knowledge and teachings. Some would die to keep their secrets and you weren’t one to deny them that wish.

Trained to be sensitive to darkness seemed counterintuitive. It threatened to envelope you and shroud the light at times. It was dangerous to be so close.

The exposure of temptations, of power, fear, and anger, some would say, would make you a hazard among your peers.

A spy is what they call you, with their lips pursed and eyes narrowed in slight disdain. You didn't wear the same golden robes they did; you often mimicked the attire of an old Sith.

Dark muted colors served to deter attention, but the saber at your hip was a reminder to those keen enough to look you over that you were part of the order spread over the republic to maintain peace.

A puff of condensation escapes past your lips, the market was full despite the deep chill that morning. Your robes didn't help from the cold shivers passing through your body.

But you had a feeling the discomfort was more than the frigid temperature.

The dark lured you in. Your efficiency in identifying depended on the innate attraction to it. You could feel the air shift.

You stop mid-step, a deep burning dug into your ribs, your cheeks pinched and your skin puckered. It was calling to you. The crowd around you grumbled as you blocked the middle of the path.

Your hand braced against your saber as a hooded figure roughly bumped past you. So rough your shoulders twisted you out of your stoic composition. Their fingers had skimmed right over the clip of your handle tauntingly.

You pause as they look back, revealing the face of a man with a teasing smile, his hair parted along the sides of his face messily. His eyes roamed over your form, analyzing you for a moment before pursing his lips in contemplation.

He turned and rushed away.

It was then that you realized, as he turned the corner. Your heart sunk to your stomach and your lungs stopped mid breath.

He was coated in it, plunged and dripping. But he was looking for something. He was lured by the same darkness you've been sensing the second you landed.

This was a new challenge. You had to find the Sith remnant first.

…

It should start off the same. You wake up inside the temple of Coruscant, soft footsteps litter outside your door. Low whisperings pass by. The room smells of paper, ink and linen.

It was simple, a window, a desk, and a bunk. There was enough space in your drawers to have changes of robes and civilian clothes.

Nothing unnecessary. You reach beside you disoriented, already knowing where the dream was going to lead.

The tips of your fingers barely reach the familiar metal of the handle of your saber. Your relief was cut short.

Your head pounds. In a blink of an eye the room darkens, it was raining, and your window howled as if the water burned its frames.

The tunic and loose pants that you wore plastered against the front of your body, your arm moves to block the stabbing droplets of cold rain from your face.

Then a flash of red blurs your vision, the corner of your eye catching it briefly before you wince heavily from the heat of it.

You feel it at your throat, your eyes are closed in anticipation of the threat of the blade's proximity.

You tremble and stand frozen as firm muscle snakes up your waist and torso, holding your stomach in place against a broad chest.

It has never gotten this far. You always wake up as soon as the heat creeped up your shoulder and to your neck. Another heat creeps up beside your head, it leans against your temple and rests there.

Strands of dark hair fall beside your face and you shiver. It was him.

He smells like fresh wet dirt, green cuttings and a hint of metal. You can feel the exhale of his breaths warm the top of your cheek.

The buzz of the saber taunts you, unmoving.

“Inspiring. Isn’t it?”

You open your eyes to find yourself in a cavern surrounded by stored relics and antiques. All Sith memorabilia. Your mouth is dry as you speak. You were in a daze of confusion and sleep. Even as you dread to admit it, you were struck with fear.

Your mind could barely catch up.

“What?-”

“Show me where this is,” his voice echoed throughout the stone walls, it made you squirm against his chest.

Your eyes widened, your mind was clearing, and you recognized where you stood. A select few knew where shadow agent's findings were kept.

You stiffened and he could feel you prepare yourself to disarm him. He didn’t want that.

His hold on your stomach tightened, the fabric of your tunic twisting in his grip. His temple pushes against yours and his lips skim past the shell of your ear, shushing gently.

Your heart races, something curls in your stomach as he tsks at your weak attempts at escape. You blame it on exhilaration, not…

You close your eyes tightly and shake your head with a thick swallow. He was clouding your mind somehow. All you could feel was the beat of his heart, the strength of his hand rising underneath your shirt and touching the skin of your belly.

You were surrounded by darkness, locked in and trapped like a loth cat sinking in tar. You had to resist and yet you didn't have the strength to.

He puts his weapon away, his other hand glides atop your arm until he reaches your hand, turning it upright until he could cup it in his palm.

You felt… weak. You can feel him smile against you. The same smile he had in the market.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

Your ears ring, his lips graze over the soft skin of your neck.

“Let it win," he mutters as he nuzzles against your skin. Your eyes flutter and you exhale shakily.

His hips press against the small of your back. He sucks, you whimper as you shake your head pitifully. You can feel him smile, a hum making your skin erupt in tingling bumps.

He was enjoying watching you squirm weakly, so wavering, so conflicted.

His mouth continues downwards, lightly pecking over the swell of your breasts, returning to their ferocity along your collarbones.

This was only a dream, you repeated in your own thoughts. The hand creeping down your hips, the dark locks you thread your fingers in with acceptance of the pleasure he was giving you.

It had to be a dream.

Fingers slipped underneath the cotton band of your pants. His palm cupped you and flexed. The deep groan of satisfaction he gave, finding you aroused and wet, rumbled through your chest.

His head lifts, his nose bumps into yours and his eyes flicker to your lips. For a few seconds your eyes connect, he smiles playfully.

“I’ll find you.”

The bed springs creaked loudly as you sat up quickly. Your hand went up to your throat, the area feeling sore.

Your skin was tingling, alight by the visions in your dream. With a wince you stand, feeling an ache on your hips from where you were held.

The door to the quarter's restroom slid open loudly enough to make you jump. As you felt around your chest, you could feel more tender spots.

The memory of the mysterious man’s hands flash through your mind. You could almost feel the heat of his mouth, the intention of his touch again.

Shame fills you, these types of interactions were frowned upon, much less with someone so far gone into a path of chaos.

You splash water over your face, the towel feeling rough on your skin. Refreshing. You take deep breaths in, your mind was finally calming.

You almost chuckle from how absurd your night was, you finally look up above the sink.

The reflection on the mirror made your heart stop. Small splotches of raised red and purple were scattered along your neck, your collarbones and over your breasts.

Succumbing to the floor you place your hands over your mouth, trying and failing to will the image of his grin out of your head.

…

A/n update: Reblogs and comments keep authors going, por si no supieran! Please support fics and authors you want to see more of! 🫶❤️

[satinestales]

❝here i blur into you❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: you've been stranded on an unknown island with your nemesis for weeks now, the air getting filled with unpalatable tension as you try to find a way to get away from him. one afternoon, the tension breaks as he offers his knowledge to help you train.

warnings: english is not my native language, reader also has a twin and has a similar situation as osha, reader is a bit paranoid, lot of foreplay from qimir, teasing, fingering, cunnilungus, vulgar terms,

now playing, acquainted by the weeknd

He smelled like sandalwood, filling the air every time he passed you by or handed you a plate of food. For the first few days, you ignored it, letting it brush against your nose, your thoughts concentrating on how to get out of the island or how to kill him without breaking the code. But after nights and nights of sleeping in the same cave, sharing his space, and smelling him in every corner, it started to drive you crazy.

You lost your nerves last morning during your hand-picked breakfast when he strolled into the cave after his morning swim, water still dripping from his hair, the smell punching you in the nose, leaving you dizzy and breathless. You didn't know where you wanted to go, but as you picked up your things and bottle of water, it wasn't your main concern.

The smell itself didn't bother you. He bothered you. You knew exactly what game he was playing. With your sister, he played the role of a big brother, older protecter that she always wanted and wished for. With you, his mask dropped, revealing a charming seductive character. Every time he handed you something, he towered over you, gazing into your eyes so intensely it made your knees shake. Or when he walked towards you, he took his time, his eyes going up and down your figure until they fixated on you, staring at you until he came so close you could feel his breath brushing over your face. The slightest touches of his hands, the knuckle strokes, the skin contact when he healed your wounds.

He was trying to seduce you, knowing your weaknesses, just so you'd turn your back on the jedi and stay with him. As a padawan, desire was one of the forbidden emotions, alongside hate, anger, and fear. You never felt the touch of another, not one you desired.

His act had its way with you. You didn't deny it, but it was just a role for him. A mask he put on whenever you were close. You wanted to know the real him and maybe even try to help him. Instead, you were met with lustful eyes and breathtaking smell of his. A few days ago, you returned his gaze when he spoke to you, to try to read his thoughts and emotions. You only saw the colour red.

After you stormed out of the cave, leaving Qimir wondering, you kept walking around for about thirty minutes before you found yourself surrounded by smaller rocks, standing ankles deep in a hot sand. It wasn't that far away from the cave but far enough to get away from him and his sandalwood smell.

You dropped your bottle and some spare clothes on one of the flat rocks, letting yourself fall on your ass, letting out an anxious breath. You had no idea what you were going to do, how to act, or how to survive the upcoming days. You were certain Sol was going to find you and save you. You started to think about Yord and Jecki. You weren't that close to Yord, even in your padawan days. Jecki, you knew from afar, but she always had a soft smile on her lips. Your heart ached for them, feeling guilty even if there was nothing you could do.

You sat there for hours, staring at your dirty shoes. You were frozen. You needed to train. You were sure there was going to be time when you would have to protect yourself against Qimir and his brute strength. He killed Yord with his bare hands. As long as you would attack his hands first, you'd be safe.

You found a branch, pictured it as a lightsaber, and started repeating over and over fighting methods you were taught by your master. You held up till the sunset, and when the sun rose again, you picked up the branch and started again.

You didn't bother with breaks. You kept going till your knees gave up, and your arms fell by your side. Your chest rose up and down fast as you sat down, the branch falling metres away from you. You rested your head against the closest rock, daring to close your eyes. You were away for almost a day, with no food, just water to keep you company. You slowly started to regret leaving so impulsively, but you had no idea what you would do if you'd stay another minute around the intoxicating smell of his.

You had to fall asleep, your body reacting to the unknown sound earlier than you. Trying to compose yourself as you rubbed your cheek, painful and red, from resting against the hard rock. You picked yourself up, turning around to find where the sound came from. It didn't take you long, for Qimir revealed himself, appearing just a few metres away from you, a bag around his shoulder. He took you in, scanning your body like he was searching for any weapons or injuries. He found nothing, only a thin branch right behind your feet.

"You could at least take some food." he broke the brooding silence and your mutual staring contest. His voice was soft, small tug on the corned of his lips. He wore his usual beige shirt, transparent to his muscles. You shook your head, trying to focus on something else than his forearms as he put down his bag to take out the stuff he brought you.

"I'm not hungry," you lied, holding steadily your position, scanning his every move. He took out all the food to put them on the rocks in front of you, gently, making sure not to drop anything. He didn't forget to bring you fresh water, new clothes and a lightsaber.

Lightsaber.

You took a quick step back at the sight of the lightsaber, your ankle meeting with a rock. He brought a lightsaber. He was going to kill you now. You were sure of it.

"It's for you," he read your mind, making himself a place to sit next to the food, lightsaber at the opposite end of the food row. He tilted his head, softly smiling at you. "The tide is going to end by tomorrow," he said, his eyes set low, eyebags underneath. "you could disappear."

"What do you want?" you asked, attitude and hidden fear in your voice. Why was he helping you. Why did he inform you about the tide and possible escape. Was he planning something?

"For you to eat," he smiled, his teeth showing up for a second. "I have no desire to hurt you or let you die of starvation." His hands rested on his lap, his eyes soft and gentle, morning sun reflecting in them. He was beautiful in this light. But you shook that though away.

"What's with the lightsaber," you pointed with your head to the weapon, not daring to move, feeling his eyes burn into your skin.

"I made it for you," he replied quietly, looking over at the saber. You flinched when he slowly stood up, walking towards it to pick it up, holding it so the handle could be in your direction. He was close, too close to your liking, a small circle of rocks surrounding you two. "Figured you'd want one." he purred, taking slow steps towards you, not breaking his gaze at you. Like he was waiting for you to run, taking in every detail of you.

He stopped at arm length, lifting the lightsaber to you. You didn't move to take it and just stared at it. It was small compared to his hand, plainly black.

"How long is it since you've held one?" he asked, almost in whisper, looking down at you with curiousity. You didn't answer, forcing to look away from the saber, mirroring his intense gaze. You tried to read him again but failed. You were too tired to even see one small thought. He took a step closer, instinctively you wanted to take a step back, but the rock behind you made you stumble, Qimir's arm catching you sharply, pulling you back up.

He was so close now that the saber handle was touching your ribs, his breath tickling your face again, the sandalwood, again, penetrating the air. You tried to move away, pushing against him, but he didn't move an inch. He looked like a marble statue against the light.

"Take it," he growled, shaking with the saber a little. When you still didn't move, he took your hand and placed it on the weapon, his grip strong and tense. "Turn it on," he moved even closer, the head of the lightsaber pushing against his abdomen.

Turn it on.

You repeated his words.

Turn it on and get it over with.

Only you couldn't. You tried to force your hand to move, but like someone froze it, it was paralyzed.

"I'm not like you." You managed to let out, breaking your neck to look up at him. "I don't attack the unarmed."

"When did I attack the defenceless?" he asked, still holding your arm firmly, keeping you standing in one place. His hair fell like a black curtain around his eyes that stared into yours, awaiting an answer.

"Jecki," your voice broke at the memory of her. She had no reason to be there. She should have been safe at the temple.

You heard him take a deep breath, his fingers slightly amplifying the pressure around your wrist. "She attacked first,"

"She was a child." You raised your voice, trying to move away from him but as much as you wanted he didn't let you.

"Your Master brought her there. He knew the risk." He replied, his voice soft and calm with no hints of remorse.

"What do you want?" You cried out, furrowing your eyebrows. You wanted to scream at him, punch him, fight him, erase the stupid smell he had that drove you crazy and confused your thoughts.

"For you to eat," he repeated, stupid smile dancing on his lips. For a second, you wondered why he wore a mask to hide his beautiful face, but you quickly erased it. With the final push, he let go of your arm and stared at you as you made your way towards the food. You devoured embarrassingly quickly, forgetting about the claim you weren't hungry. All the time he stood there, watching you carefully.

When you finished eating, you took advantage of the bird that took Qimir's attention for a moment to hide the fork and knife behind your belt. It was stupid, but it counted as something. You could sharpen it using the rocks and use it when he'd attack you in your sleep.

"Why won't you kill me?" You asked after you finished your plate, reaching for the water bottle. You felt his stare. Everywhere. At that point you didn't know if he was still playing the role of a whore or he just had a staring problem. Both options made you nervous.

"As I said, I have no desire to." He smiled, kneeling down to squat. He slowly started rolling up his sleeves, the scars on his arms now more visible than ever. His long, thick fingers were wrapped around the lightsaber, his other hand now hanging in the air.

It was useless talking to him. It was obvious before, ridiculous now. You nodded, accepting you won't get any honest answer out of him.

"Thanks for the food, you better get going now." You slowly stood up, your stomach full and warm. "Time for your daily swim." you added, hoping he'd leave you alone till tomorrow when you could swim to the other side and leave this abandoned island.

You didn't hear him letting out a chuckle, his dimples showing. "I can take one here," he pointed at the calm water in front of you, guarded by gigantic rocks.

Great.

"Do whatever you want," you murmured, trying to convince yourself you're okay with his presence. Naked presence. You saw him the first few days, where you followed him every morning, not trusting anything he said. He invited you to join him every time, and every time you didn't say anything, just stood on guard, scanning and taking in every movement he made.

He was well built, with big arms, strong back, and powerful legs. Was he stripping in front of you as a part of his act, or was he just that unbothered by your presence. You hoped it was neither. You rather got tricked than ignored.

"Okay," you heard him murmur, walking towards you for his clothes. You flinched, taking a big step away from him, finding the lightsaber lying in the sand. As he slowly made his way to the water and started to undress, you took the lightsaber in your hands, feeling it, remembering the last time you held it.

You started your routine again, this time with your lightsaber, the branch left lying in the sand. You were well aware he was watching you, motivating you to show off and not to embarrass yourself.

Minutes ran by before you heard a splash, Qimir walking out of the water. You didn't even think to turn around, but your body decided for you. Your head tilted his direction, your eyes going up and down his figure. It wasn't the first time you saw it but this time you saw it from a clear view.

Suddenly, you had a hard time swallowing the saliva forming in your mouth, your heart aggressively punching your ribs.

Focus.

You quickly turned your head back, hoping to remember what you were doing before you scanned his form. You wondered if it would hurt, or would it be pleasurable.

You felt shame thinking about these things, but you never received an answer. The Jedi around you never answered, and those outside you didn't trust.

The unknown heat overtook you again, you had to close your eyes to regain your focus. Instead, The Force directed you back to him. His grin fixated his lips as he put on his clothes, not bothering to dry himself. Water droplets falling from his hair to his shoulders, his muscles forming themselves against the skin-tight robe.

Opening your eyes, you took a glimpse of your lightsaber, unaware of Qimir slowly approaching you. You practised your movements, your hand twists, and leg work. You had to get used to the weight of the lightsaber after years of not touching one.

You stopped yourself from turning his direction when you felt his touch on your shoulders.

"Keep your shoulders back," he whispered, forcing your shoulders back into their correct position. You froze, now only focusing on the warmth reflecting of his body. He bent over so his lips could reach your ears, and his hands travelled down to your biceps. "Your elbows up. You have them too low." he simply added, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You pressed your legs together, unaware of your need.

You listened to him, tho, keeping your shoulders and elbows in the position he moved them. His hands didn't touch you fully, only tickling the surface of your skin, but it was enough to make you burn.

"You need to spread your legs," he added, hearing a small smile while informing you. You fought the urge to turn and hit him in the face with the lightsaber handle.

When you didn't listen, he forced his knee between your legs, forcing them apart.

"So you don't fall over," he whispered against your ear, the little hair on your neck standing up.

"I didn't ask for help," you uttered, bitterness in your tone. You wanted him gone, but not for the same reason you did yesterday. For the reason that he made you have physical reactions without touching you. Having to press your legs together because of his voice. Feeling your skin burn by feeling him pressed against your back.

"You obviously need it," He smiled against your earlobe before pulling back just to let his hands fall onto yours, checking the way you hold your saber. He fixed the placement of your fingers, his breath on your neck erasing all of your thoughts. His warm wet chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling you. Your ass pressed against his abdomen. It was all too much for you. You shouldn't be feeling this way.

Yes, he was attractive. Yes, he was charismatic and soft when he wanted to be. But he wield the power of the dark side. He couldn't be trusted. You were scared the dreams you were having so often might become true.

"Use your thumb," he woke you up from your thoughts, pushing himself against your back as he held your hands. His voice was low and dark. "Place it on the top to hold it steadily. That way, it won't slip out of your hands, and you won't have to use strength to keep it in place." Even the way he talked and taught you almost drove you over the edge. You knew that's what he wanted and fought hard against it.

"I know how to hold a lightsaber." You hissed, shaking off his hands. Regretting it as his hands found its way to your lower back, pushing in, you had to hold back a moan,

"Straight posture." he simply said, ignoring you, leaving his hands on the back of your hips. You focused on taking deep breaths, hoping the heat between your legs would go away.

Almost as if he felt it, his hands moved from the back to the front, tickling the exposed skin of your stomach. You wanted to cry out, his touch driving you insane. You wanted to do something and, at the same time, nothing. You wanted him to take you, but you also wanted to drive the lightsaber through his skull.

"You won't fight anyone without a straight posture," he emphasized, pushing his fingers into your stomach, holding you in place.

"I've fought many people without you before." you replied angrily, a small moan leaving your lips at the end of the sentence as he moved his fingers lower, under your belly button.

"And did you win?" he mocked you, whispering into your ear. His hands right above the place you used your fingers while wishing they were his.

You were done with his stupid comments and mockery, pushing against him to turn and punch him, but he didn't let you move a muscle. He was too strong.

"What do they teach you," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone. "They don't teach you how to stand still or how to hold a lightsaber. Only how to surpress your emotions to become a hollow shell."

"That's not true," you argued. "We are taught to control our emotions, to feel them but not to let them get the best out of us."

"So why do you supress what you really want?" his voice turned into whisper again, his thumb making circling motion on your lower stomach. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew you were about to give up.

"Why do you shy away from your desire?" he added, using little to no strength to bring you skin to skin to him, feeling his length on your lower back.

Accidental moan left your lips. You closed your eyes out of embarrassment, wishing he didn't hear that. But you weren't that stupid.

"It's the path, path to the dark side." you stumbled over your words, feeling his fingers go lower, right above the belt of your pants.

Fuck.

"Then stop me," he whispered, his index finger going slowly underneath the hem of your pants. "Stop my hand. I'll let you." he added.

You didn't move a muscle. Only rested your head against his chest and let your arms fall by your side, lightsaber falling into the sand. You wanted him, and he wanted you. There was no reason to fight it. That was a problem for your future self.

"Tell me," he purred, his right hand painfully slowly maling their way to the hem of your panties. "Has anyone ever touched you like this?"

He was mocking you, playing with you. He knew no one ever had. You didn't count. "No," was your simple answer, wanting to dig yourself a deep hole in the ground and bury yourself in it.

"How does it feel?" he asked, his fingers finally reaching your wet bundle of nerves, slowly starting to circle your clit. You grabbed his arm out of shock, digging your nails into his skin. It felt too good. You were dripping wet, it was too easy for him to find your weak spot.

"As a Jedi, you can't even be with the people you love," he murmured into your ear before starting to leave small kisses down to your neck. "Can't give them the pleasure they deserve."

His fingers started to go up and down your clit, always stopping right before your entrance. You wanted to start begging for him to take you, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you already have. You didn't pay attention to anything he was saying, only focusing on his fingers driving you crazy, making it difficult to keep a steady stance.

"What kind of life is that? Hmm?" His sloppy kisses and his fingers teasing your core themselves, almost had you falling over the edge. You were so touch deprived you were surprised you didn't cum when he touched you for the first time.

"Qimir," you cried out, wanting his fingers inside of you already. The first time, you said his name out loud. And he listened. His fingers stopped their movements, deserving an annoyed groan from you. He took them out of your pants, placing them on your waist to circle you so he could be face to face with you.

He didn't say anything before he bent his legs, kneeling in front of you, letting the sand swallow him. He looked up at you with pitch-black eyes, hinting on your pants. You understood, taking your time but nodding, letting him take off your pants and underwear.

The urge to cover your face and run away was strong, but the feeling of his mouth on your clit was stronger. You cried out hard, grabbing his hair as he dipped his tongue between your folds. This is what the Jedi deprived you of. You wanted to scream.

Qirim's tongue moved with rhythm against your dripping cunt, his fingers holding you still by your hips. Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging on them every time he moved his tongue, teasing your entrance.

"Fuck," you hissed, your knees bending. Qimir quickly caught you, not stopping assaulting your clit. "Qimir, please," you begged. You weren't sure what you were wishing for anymore, but his name in your mouth felt almost as good as his tongue felt between your folds.

Your arms moved from his hair to his shoulders, holding yourself steady when his hand left your hip to put them between your legs. You caught a glimpse of his face when you looked down. Lustful dark eyes, messy hair, sweaty against his forehead, his nose and mouth covered in your slick. The view itself almost had you cumming on his tongue. So when his fingers joined the game, pushing inside of you, betwen your walls you let a pornographic moan. You were alone on this island but if someone was on the other end, you were certain they could hear you.

His fingers moved fast, in and out of you, spreading and curling inside of you. He was gentle with you at first but as he felt you getting closer and closer to the edge he threw all the respect out of the window, fucking you mercilessly with his thick fingers.

If his mouth and fingers had you screaming his name you wondered how his cock would feel.

"Qimir, I'm- " you cried out, wanting to warn him, but he felt it. The way your walls started to contract, crushing his fingers inside of you. His tongue kept circling your clit, adding to the pleasure. You were sure you formed new scars on his shoulders as you came hard around his fingers and tongue, failing to catch your breath and keep your legs straight and strong.

He held you for a few minutes as you rested against him, his lips still glossy with your wetness. Without thinking, you bended over to press your lips against his, tasting yourself, mixed with the flavor of him.

[augustinewrites]

the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.

the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.

he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.

“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 

the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.

_____

you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 

“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 

“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 

“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.

“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 

“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 

you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 

“can you help me sit up?”

“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 

your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 

“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  

“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 

so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.

“i wanna give the flowers–”

“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”

your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.

_____

your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 

satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 

you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.

“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 

he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 

“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”

[floatyflowers]

Dark!House of The Dragon Men x Reader

You tried to balance your relationship with the greens and blacks despite being Rhaenyra's daughter.

And it worked.

With Aegon II Targaryen

Both of you are close in age, as you are older then Jace.

Aegon found himself falling for you, due to many factors, not only because you are beautiful.

You are kind, intelligent, and most importantly YOU LISTEN to him.

Both of you spend too much time together with or without your mothers knowledge.

The only time he stood up to his mother is when she spoke about you in a horrid manner, calling you a bastard.

"If you dare speak about her like that ever again, I will go and inform father!"

He later on becomes your betrothed by Viserys' order to unite the house.

With Aemond Targaryen

You never mocked him like his brother and your siblings.

In fact, you became his friend and shared his interest in reading books.

The only one in house Targaryen that he felt connected to is you.

Sometimes you would sneak into his chamber in the middle of the night though the hidden passages to just chat.

So, it's hard for your Targaryen uncle not to fall for you, he even looked past your legitimacy.

You literally stood by his side when Luke took his eye and comforted him.

But hearing your engagement to his older brother made his blood boil, and he took an oath to steal you away.

Especially after claiming Vhagar, he realized he now has the ability to burn down anyone who he finds as a threat to his affection towards you.

"Don't worry, I will protect you, dear niece"

With Jacearys Velaryon

He respects and loves you dearly, you are his role model.

That is why he started to bully Aemond when he saw you pay attention to the silver haired Targaryen more than him.

When puberty hit him, he began to slowly develop feelings for you.

And what increased those feelings is that he heard his mother mention something about marrying you to him.

But all his dreams came crashing down when Viserys' announced that you would wed Aegon.

And when you actually did marry Aegon, and after years where Viserys' held a feast, Jace tried to convince you to return to Dragonstone with him.

The night he got in a fight with Aegon he let out all his fury, even if he promised to behave.

"Annual your marriage to him and marry me instead"

With Ser Criston Cole (Platonic)

He is your biological father.

And he knows that, so unlike his bad treatment towards your mother and siblings, he treated you kindly.

At the age of ten he revealed to you that he is your real father.

At first you didn't believe him, but as you grew older you did begin to realize the truth.

Instead of avoiding him, you decided to be friendly and call him 'father' when you both are alone.

One time, one of the servants accidentally spilled soup on you.

The next day that servant was found dead.

"I'm your father before being the Queen's sworn sword"

With Gwayne Hightower

He flirted with you before your wedding not realizing that you are his nephew's bride.

Gwayne hates Rhaenyra, but the thought of you being her daughter left him in disbelief.

You are nothing like your mother.

Everything about you scream honor, virtue and kindness.

Gwayne even tried to convince you to runaway before it's too late.

"You still have time to not marry Aegon"

Indeed, it's awful to say that about his nephew.

But he cares about your well-being more than Aegon's happiness.

And it really shows during the war.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[prythianpages]

Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air. 

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate. 

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

**

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever. 

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right? 

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more. 

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.”  And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here. 

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.” 

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom.  A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back. 

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

 "You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares. 

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once. 

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom.  "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face.  "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it.  "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.” 

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam. 

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Various pieces of information from the Rise Q&A back in February

It was revealed that there are other Hidden Cities other than the one seen in Rise & there had been plans for the Turtles to visit the Hidden City beneath Tokyo.

2. Splinter was able to use Leo's mystic odachi so easily due to the fact that Splinter had spent a lot of time in the Hidden City & because of this Splinter has a great deal of mystic knowledge, with Splinter also having developed his mystic abilities but he has stopped using those abilities until the events of the series.

3. More information was given about the missing Turtle Siblings & it was stated the Frida, Big Mama's Assistant would have most likely joined her brothers during the future timeline, it was also stated that the other missing Turtle Sibling would have possibly been named Camille after Camille Claudel.

4. When asked on how a Dungeons & Dragons episode would go it was stated that April would be the DM, Raph would be a fighter class, Mikey would be an illusionist, Leo would be an assassin or thief & Donnie would insist on being a scientist since he's sure that there was 'at least one sensible person back then'.

5. The Rise version of Renet could have possibly been used to explore different timelines that might have happened if certain events in the movie had happened differently.

6. After the events of the movie Casey is traveling around the world fighting remnants of the Krang & the Foot Clan.

7. When asked about the Turtle's relationship with Draxum it was stated that in contrast to Mikey who accepted Draxum the most easily, Leo is the most skeptical however it was also stated that Leo would have eventually 'gotten over' his grudge towards Draxum as there were multiple scrapped episodes planned where Leo & Draxum would have been forced to work together.

8. There were plans for the Turtles to eventually go to the Krang's original dimension meaning that it would have been likely for the Turtles to encounter the traditional dimension X/Z stuff such as the Neutrinos.

9. When asked about Casey Junior's relationship with the past/ present version of Leo it was stated that despite it being slightly different due to them being around the same age now Casey Junior can't help but still view Leo as a father figure.

10. It was stated that Splinter has never celebrated the Turtle's Birthdays in the past due to it being to closely related to his negative feelings towards his own mutation however it was also stated that after Splinter's development in the series he would start celebrating the Turtle's Birthday with them.

11. The reason that the Future Version of Leonardo was the one who raised Casey Junior was stated that it was due to the fact that the Future Version of Leonardo had a special affinity for Casey Junior & also felt particularly responsible for Casey Junior after his mother was gone.

12. When asked what the Rise version of Miyamoto Usagi would have been like it was revealed that a possible plan for Usagi was that his home dimension would have been overrun by the Krang causing Usagi to travel to the Turtles dimension for help due to them being the only ones who have ever defeated the Krang.

13. When discussing crossovers between TMNT iterations it was stated that a crossover between Rise & the 1987 cartoon or the 2003 cartoon would have been a possibility due to them also being 2D animated series.

14. April & Sunita were planned to have more 'girls night' episodes together.

It was also stated that Casey would have possibly have developed a dynamic with both April & Sunita so there is also a possibility that Casey would have been included in the 'girls night' episodes with April & Sunita as well.

[narxcisse]

★ — General yandere Viktor headcanons

Yandere!Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: Obsession and yandere behaviors, surveillance and control, manipulation, forced proximity, Vik pretends to depend on you occasionally, isolation(?), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Viktor’s analytical nature extends to his obsession. Once he’s fixated on someone, they become the center of his world, overshadowing even his work.

He memorizes every detail about you—your habits, preferences, quirks, and routines. This knowledge is meticulously stored and analyzed to "understand" you better.

Rationalizes his possessiveness as care. He believes he’s the only one who can protect you, especially from the chaos of Zaun and Piltover.

He subtly manipulates circumstances to keep you away from others, framing it as concern for your safety.

Any perceived threat to you triggers his protective instincts. He can be dangerously calculating when dealing with rivals or anyone who might harm you.

He uses his Hextech knowledge to develop devices that monitor or safeguard you—tracking bracelets, automated sentinels, or surveillance systems disguised as gifts.

Viktor uses his calm demeanor to guilt-trip you into compliance. He’ll lament how much he sacrifices for you, subtly steering your choices.

He’ll portray himself as overworked or burdened, implying that your support and closeness are the only things keeping him going.

Viktor impresses you with his intelligence, subtly reinforcing the idea that he’s irreplaceable.

He ensures you rely on him emotionally or practically, making it difficult for you to leave.

He might push himself to the point of exhaustion and subtly blame you for not being there to stop him, saying things like, "If I had you by my side, perhaps I wouldn't push myself this far."

If you ever try to distance yourself, he may consider using his technology to "fix" you, claiming it’s for your benefit.

Viktor’s obsession is methodical. He won’t lash out irrationally but will quietly remove obstacles or manipulate situations to keep you close.

Around you, Viktor shows a softer side that no one else sees (Maybe Jayce sees it sometimes too), making it hard to view him as a threat.

Viktor may mark his territory with small, easily overlooked gestures—insisting you wear a scarf he gave you or leaving his inventions in your home.

Don't underestimate his cane, if you try to run away, he will easily knock you out with it.

If pushed too far, Viktor can become dangerously unhinged. In rare moments of desperation, his calm facade may crack, revealing just how far he’ll go to keep you.

It starts innocently enough—or so it seems. Viktor’s health has been deteriorating more visibly over the past few days. You notice the way he winces when he moves, the increasing reliance on his cane, the exhaustion written across his face.

He brushes off your concern at first, but one night, you find him sitting in his chair, his head resting heavily in his hand, looking utterly defeated.

"I thought I could endure this alone," he says quietly, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "But... I fear I cannot."

You freeze. Viktor has always been stoic, resilient, unwilling to admit weakness. To see him like this sends a pang through your chest.

"I didn’t want to burden you," he continues, his amber eyes meeting yours, glassy with an emotion you can’t quite place. "But it’s becoming harder... to keep going without someone to rely on. Without you."

He doesn’t explicitly ask for anything, but his words hang heavy in the air. You feel his unspoken plea.

"Perhaps it’s selfish," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. "But... your presence eases the pain. When you’re near, I feel... stronger."

The way he looks at you—so "vulnerable", so "dependent"—makes it impossible to say no.

"Stay tonight," he says after a pause, his voice almost a whisper. "Just for a while. I need to know you're here."

You hesitate, but his hand reaches out, brushing yours lightly. His touch is cold but steady, grounding in a way that feels both comforting and suffocating.

"Please," he adds softly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... don’t want to be alone tonight."

Against your better judgment, you agree. He guides you to sit beside him, his arm brushing against yours. For a while, it’s quiet. Then, almost tentatively, he leans closer, his head resting against your shoulder.

---

After some time, he shifts, feigning discomfort. "Forgive me," he murmurs, his voice strained. "The pain... it’s worse tonight. Would you... hold me? Just for a moment?"

You blink in surprise, but before you can respond, he adds, "I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t unbearable. I just... need to feel that someone cares."

You reluctantly oblige, wrapping your arms around him. He lets out a soft sigh, almost as if in relief, and his own arms tentatively encircle you.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Even as you sit there, his hold tightens subtly, possessively, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

As the night wears on, you start to feel a creeping realization that this might not have been as innocent as it seemed. Viktor, however, seems content, his gaze soft but calculating as he holds you close.

"Perhaps... you could stay again tomorrow?" he murmurs, the faintest smile playing on his lips. "For my recovery, of course."

[esotericbluntbaby]

request! i read in your post you wanted angst requests, and i loveee the trope of him being a jealous roommate, and seeing you with another guy, leading to an argument about it. honestly, do whatever you feel right, i believe your writing style is so unique you couldn’t mess it up.

untitled

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: a night of studying obviously entails stressful situations: not knowing the answers to your problems, sleep deprivation, and cramming, to say the least. however, another problem arises when you decide to hold a small study session with a boy from your class: a roommate who hates your study partner.

mentions: angst, jealousy, argument, she/her pronouns, angsty love confession, happy ending, making out, mostly sfw!

thank u to whoever sent the request. small comments and compliments really keep me going <33

--

you were sleep deprived, to say the least.

violet bags formed droops underneath your eyes, followed by the weighted heaviness your eyelids held with each blink threatening to be longer and longer each time. your back was almost curled into a "c," slumped onto your desk as your head was held in your left hand, pencil being grazed upon paper in your right. exhaustion devoured the whole point of the study session: to hold as much material in your brain as you could about the material for your final exam in two days.

you started off strong at around 5:00 in the afternoon. the material was able to be grasped and understood as if it was truly a part of you that was forgotten and remembered. however, the longer the you stared at the numbers and symbols on your notebook, the more your brain turned as mushy as a rotten apple. one redbull turned into three cans, in addition to a shot of espresso taken at around 12:00 in the morning, as you delved deeper into the madness of the units you learned in math.

now, you originally were going to do this completely on your own. you've done it before; actually, you've done it so many times that it's almost expected of you to procrastinate until the last minute to study and review, no matter how many times it ends with regret, twenty pages of notes, and sleep deprivation. however, after posting about how much you've been struggling with a certain subset of problems given in the study guide, logan, a boy from the same math class as you, texted.

he told you he could help you if he needed: that he could come over and assist you with your studying, since he understood the material quite well. you believed him, since you sat next to him constantly. each time papers and tests were being handed back to you, your eyes lingered and glanced at his paper, an A+ written in slanted cursive each time at the top of his paper. though you've studied by yourself many times and each time got a knowledgable, thoughtful grade, you began to lose hope in yourself. so, logan showed up at your doorstep at around 1:00 in the morning.

you both crammed and retained as many formulas, problems, and tactics as you could as the sun began to rise slowly and steadily, showing and revealing itself to the residents living in the northern hemisphere. by the time the sun was fully up, around 7:30 in the morning, you told him that you could take it from here and that he was free to leave now.

as you walked him out, your roommate sat on the brown, leather couch of your shared apartment, binge watching some random show he found on the netflix account you both had access to. this wasn't an unusual sight; hamzah streamed quite often, most of the time resulting in all-nighters or a scattered sleep schedule. however, the sight in front of him was the unusual one: who the fuck is that blonde haired boy who was in your room, leaving at 7:42 in the morning? his eyes widened at the thought of another man stayed in the same room as you for the entire night. that was practically his room; hamzah had clothes in there, as well as his monkey plush that the both of you got together. another man was practically in his space and he did not take it lightly.

"bye logan. thanks for all the help last night. i really appreciate it," you thanked, genuinely grateful that he was able to help you with your studies.

he smiled a toothy grin, "yeah, anytime! just call me whenever you need me. i'll be there."

his backpack, full of textbooks and notebooks from the night, was the last thing hamzah saw before the door was shut and his roommate's body was turned towards him. he noticed how rough you looked; eyes half-shut and lidded with an intense look of sleepiness laced into your gaze, as well as a yawn coming from out of your mouth before you began to converse with him.

he smiled at you, momentarily forgetting the fact that you just walked a boy out of your apartment, "morning, pretty."

you and hamzah's relationship was weird; you weren't really dating, yet, you weren't really only friends either. there was an certain unspoken tension between the two of you; a tension that kept you connected with string, yet couldn't be cut even if you had the sharpest pair of scissors available. you enjoyed his presence, he enjoyed yours. however, you both also didn't want to ruin what you already had, so it was a simple understanding of each other that never got to be turned into spoken word.

"morning, hamzah. did you sleep at all?" you asked him.

he turned down the volume of the show in front of him with the remote, "huh? oh, nah. i was streaming 'til like, 6, or something. who's he?"

you looked around the room for another body besides yours and the boy in front of you, "who's who?"

"the guy you just walked out of the apartment," his voice had a slight essence of an attitude in it, "the one that looks like fuckin butters from south park."

you laughed, taking a seat next to him and resting your head on his shoulder , "that's logan. he was just helping me out with something last night."

"how long was he here?"

"he came here around, like, 1 in the morning. why?"

"'nothin," he said, turning the volume back up.

--

logan became a regular guest at the house, oddly showing up mostly at weird hours of the morning. most of the time, it was you answering the knock on your wooden front door, greeting him and going to your room to study some more. on the contrary, the times where hamzah was conveniently in the living room watching a show or editing a video and the door knocked, he became slightly hostile. each time, no matter where or what you were doing, he wouldn't answer the door. the first couple times, you didn't realize it; you thought that possibly hamzah could've not heard the knock because of how loud he watches his shows. however, you soon realized that he simply just wouldn't get up. you shrugged it off, letting him in after he texted you that he was outside the door.

currently, your exams are on pause for the break that you were given from school. your sleep schedule was in ruins, either sleeping at 6 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon. you noticed that throughout the break, hamzah was distant, only occasionally asking you if you wanted some food that he was cooking or if the wifi was out. you missed him. you didn't know what was wrong, nor what was happening. his short responses and leaving the room whenever you entered was confusing you. a week ago, you two were cuddling on the couch and he was forcing you to watch horror movies with him. now, he leaves the room whenever any part of your body touches the wooden floor of your living room. at 12:00 in the morning, you decided that enough was enough.

you knocked onto his bedroom door, before letting yourself in. his eyes remained locked onto the screen in front of him, not caring to recognize that you were now in his room. he seemed standoffish; he seemed cold. it was like the man that was once radiating a certain warmth from within himself was extinguished and watered down. it worried you, really. you wanted him back, though he wasn't yours.

"are you streaming?" you asked him.

his eyes remained stagnant and his voice spoke to you in the same monotonous tone, "no."

"do you wanna go do something?"

"like?"

you sat on his bed next to him, "i dunno. anything."

"can't. busy."

you were tired, however, not tired in a way that can be fixed with sleep. in fact, you didn't know how this could be fixed. though the connection you two had was never truly spoken about and simply understood through actions and gestures, you finally decided to speak about it.

"hamzah."

"what?"

"what's wrong? did something happen?"

he finally made eye contact with you, "nothing's wrong, nothing happened."

"you've been so distant, something's wrong. y'know you can talk to me about anything, right-"

he swiveled his chair towards you, frustration painted as a mural onto his face, "jesus fucking christ, dude. just because i don't wanna go out- it doesn't mean anything."

you were taken aback, "it's not even just today. it's this whole week. did i do something wrong?"

"if you wanna go out so bad, why don't you go ask logan?"

a switch suddenly flipped into your head; hamzah was jealous. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood why he was; not only was he jealous, but he was rightfully so. you didn't realize that your nights were now always spent studying and memorizing instead of spending time with him.

"why would i go ask logan?"

hamzah scoffs, "why wouldn't you go ask him? he's over almost every fucking time i try to go ask you if you wanna go get food or go watch a movie. you might as well date the kid if you're gonna be sleeping with him every night while dragging me along."

"hamzah-"

his eye contact remained intense, "no, i'm not done. fuck, i thought we had something. i thought those nights on the couch where we'd just sit and talk and watch random shit and make fun of random shit meant something. i liked you. i liked you so fucking much. and then logan comes around and just steals you. what does he have that i don't?"

"hamzah-"

"i'm still not done. i would've loved to be with you and do corny couple shit with you if you weren't with him. shit, i feel fucking stupid because i still would love to be with you and it's so, so obvious you don't feel the same way. do you know how much it hurts to hear you two at night? our rooms are next to each other, do you realize i can hear you guys laughing? then, when it's quiet, i just think about how you guys could be sleeping together and cuddling just like how we did. this kid- he came out of fucking nowhere. and now suddenly, i'm just fucking alone and you just fucking left me. it's like your fingers are intertwined in my brain and just fucking with every single fold. why did you do that? why would you do that-"

impulse struck your brain like lightning on the highest mountain peak. hamzah wouldn't shut up. yet, he's never really shut up a day in his life. so, you did the obvious. you grabbed his cheeks, forcefully making his face directly in front of yours. your lips landed on his, a kiss of desperation and risky acts.

you pulled away, not realizing what you were doing until after it happened. you both looked at each other wide-eyed and shocked, almost as if a total stranger kissed both of you.

"fuck- i'm sorry- i don't know why i did that-"

he grabbed your face with both of his hands, cupping your cheeks in each one. his lips, once again, settled on yours. this kiss was different; the way you kissed him was spontaneous and filled with uncertainty. his, on the other hand, was rough and needed. you never realized how truly needy hamzah was until the moment where he pulled you onto his lap, straddling his lap. his hands made its way up and down your body. his tongue, tasting like the mint gum he was chewing before you came into his room, entered your mouth as if it lived there previously. you both were upset at each other, however, with every moment where your lips were touching, it was like you completely forgot why you both were tense. you attempted to pull away; you remembered that you still needed to explain everything. however, you watched as his lips grew magnetic to yours, attempting to chase after your mouth like he would die from even a split second apart.

"hamzah. i don't like logan."

his eyes turned soft compared to the gaze he gave you beforehand, "did you sleep with him?"

"no, baby, i didn't."

his heart melted at you calling him baby. you could see it in his eyes and the yearning expression he gave you.

"what were you guys doing at, like, 3 in the morning?"

"i've been struggling with math. i don't really know anyone else that's good at it, either. so when he offered to help me study, i took him up on it. it's at weird hours because he has work."

guilt began to eat hamzah up. he realized he had just scolded you for something that his brain made him believe, as well as the fact that he could have simply talked to you about it.

"i'm sorry. i'm actually so sorry- i don't know why i didn't just ask you. i just assumed that he was like, i don't know, a sneaky link or something."

you kissed him on the cheek, lovingly, "it's okay. i should've told you that he was just helping me study. i'm sorry, too."

you stayed there for a solid hour, with you still straddling his waist in his gaming chair with your legs. it wasn't sexual at all; in fact, it was the opposite. your arms wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your back. your face held shelter in the area between his neck and his shoulder, finding solitude within the boy in front of you. it was silent, until hamzah decided to break the quietude filling the room.

"do you still wanna go out?"

you removed your face from his neck to look at him, "hamzah, it's one in the morning."

"so? i thought you wanted to go somewhere- get out of this apartment."

you gave him a peck on the lips, "no. i just wanted an excuse to be with you."

--

authors note!

okay i dont rly like how this turned out but i'll post it anyways. i might update it n add some more detail into it later on. have a good rest of ur day/night! i will eventually get to all the requests i get, but please be patient since i do have school outside of this <3