#there were many more but these were the ones that stuck with me
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She laughed easily with him and admired his handsome face as they joked around. She still felt as though she were very privileged to be able to see this side of him. She doubted many got to see him joke and simply be playful and laugh openly as they did when alone.
“I suppose he does. We have talked about some things. When I got you those rings we talked about having multiple marriages because I was worried Yaroslava might be angry about them, seeing it as a threat to her placement or something. But Coyote reminded me that having multiple husbands and wives is normal is some cultures. Though we agreed we would never take multiple mates.” She babbled on. “And no..it’s not their business but maybe I like ta brag about you and want them to know how much I love you with a single term. “ she smirked.
“Oh I see. So I’m just another excuse ta start one and nothing special. I got it.” She teased and even stuck out her tongue a bit at him. “It’s just a lawn, Echo. I mean I know that you have ta be safe but if a child kicked their ball over a dense, youd better let them leave safely after getting their toy.” She huffed a laugh. As dangerous and maybe even evil Echo could be, she couldn’t imagine him hurting a child.
With her face cleaned once more she nodded and stole his lips before carefully moving to stand. “Dried and dressed in this Elven outfit that I won’t even be able to feel is on me. “ she giggled.
Blood and Moonlight
Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"
@banditcoyote
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Fenton Crime Family
-Wayne Manor, Gotham-
Stephanie: So no one is gonna ask why Cass has been out so much lately? Alone too.
Duke: Didn't she say she is going out to meet a friend?
Stephanie: Yeah, but no one knows where she goes. We don't know who she goes out with nor do we know where she goes.
Tim: Just say that you are jealous that Cass is going out without you. No will make fun of you.
Jason & Duke: That's a lie.
Tim: Yeah, that's a lie. I would totally make fun of you.
Stephanie: Shut up nerd. Don't pretend you are not jealous when Bernard or Conner says that they are hanging out with someone else.
Tim: Woah there. Jason is the nerd one. If you want to insult me, at least use the correct one.
Jason: I want to be mad but you're not wrong.
Damian: Tt, why should we bother who Cain goes out with? It is her choice who she wishes to be her companion.
Stephanie: But aren't you curious even a little bit? Who is the person? Where do they go? Are they friends or something more? There are so many questions and yet so little answer.
Bruce: We should give Cass some room for herself. Letting her form a relationship outside of this household is also good.
Everyone: *Stares at Bruce*
Jason: I think the old man is being mind controlled. Let me punch him to wake him up.
Dick: Are you sick, B? Do you want to go to Dr. Leslie? I can take over your patrol tonight if you are not feeling well.
Damian: I also agree with Todd. Father might be compromised right now. Let's take him down.
Tim: Wait wait. Do you have anything to say before we jump you Bruce?
Bruce: *Grunts* I went to meet the therapist that Jason recommended to me. Dr. Fenton says that I should give my children room to grow independently so that I can take the first step in treating my paranoia.
Jason: *Gasp* You actually went to meet the therapist. Fuck.
Stephanie: He he he, where is my 50 bucks? I told you he would go if you recommend it.
Jason: *Grumble while handing out 50 bucks*
Duke: So that's where you are going. I thought you were going on a date.
Bruce: I am too old for dating anymore.
Dick: Yeah, right. Tell that to me when you go meet Selina later tonight.
Bruce: *Grunts*
Alfred: *Walks in* I am here to inform that Miss Cassandra has returned.
Dick: She's not gonna eat lunch?
Alfred: Miss Cassandra has informed me that she has eaten outside with her friend.
Jason: Did you see who her friend is? Is it a boy or a girl? Please tell me it's a boy.
Alfred: I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything as per my agreement with Miss Cassandra. What I can tell you though is that she is very happy to meet her friend. I suggest all of you don't disturb her happiness.
Stephanie: What? Boooo. I want answers. Timothy I choose you. Go find the answer using your stalker skills.
Tim: I would rather not anger her after what she did last time. All of my coffee mugs are still stuck on the table.
Duke: *Scoffs* You would probably go behind her back to find this friend anyway. You're just saying it in case Cass heard us.
Tim: I shall not confirm nor deny the accusation.
-Upstairs-
Cass lays on her bed after changing her clothes. It's been so long since she saw Danny. If not for the coincidental encounter at the stores, she wouldn't have known that Danny is in Gotham. After the first encounter, they exchanged phone numbers and talks and even met up often. Today is their first official date as a girlfriend/boyfriend.
Cass takes her phone to text Danny that she has reached home safely when she suddenly remembers something. She opens her gallery and puts the photos of her and Danny in a secure secret folder so that no one can find it.
While doing that, a text comes through.
Danny 💕💓💕
Danny: Hey Cass, are you home yet?
Cass: Yes. I just got home.
Danny: Thanks for the date today
Cass: 💖💖
Cass: Are you home yet?
Danny: Almost
Danny: Sorry gotta go. My sister is calling.
Cass: Get home fast. Love you 😘
Danny: I love you too 💖
Cass puts the phone on the bed and closes her eyes. Soon, she falls asleep and dreams of living in a large house with a lot of children running around.
-The Bowery, Gotham-
A young skinny man with black hair and blue eyes is walking down the quite alley slowly. He looks around him as the people of the Bowery look almost respectful but certainly fearful to him.
He sighs and leaves the sprawled bodies on the ground. They wouldn't die. He makes sure of that. A huge man comes within his proximity when suddenly the man bows down to him.
????: We are sorry, sir. These people are a new gang in the rise from the east. We get the news too late to send people to dispose of them.
Danny: Chill out, Jeff. Just take them to Dani and let her handle it. Also, tell her to return before dinner or else Jazz will come for her.
Jeff: Yes, sir.
The man along with a few of his henchmen pick the bodies and move them to somewhere else. To be honest, Jazz and Danny still don't know how to feel that their little sister is officially a crime lord.
All of them moved last month since Jazz gets her job at Arkham Asylum and Danny gets his internship at Wayne Enterprise. Dani tags along since she has explored all the places she wants to visit and she doesn't know what else to do.
Well that also didn't last long, as the first day they arrived at Gotham, Dani goes to beat up all the gang and goons in The Bowery and round them up into one single group. It's certainly easier that all the rouges are in Arkham right now.
One time the Falcon crime family tried to threaten Dani by taking Danny and Jazz hostage. In the end, Falcon and other crime families agree to stay out of The Bowery after Danny freezes all of their building and Dani strikes them with lightning multiple times.
Danny arrives home and sits on the couch. He scrolls Twitter while waiting for his sisters to return when the news catches his eyes.
Breakout at Arkham Asylum
All the people of Gotham are suggested to stay inside tonight.
Danny looks at the news with concern. Usually a breakout at Arkham happens a lot later in the day. He stands up, picks a leather jacket and a mask and then transforms into Phantom. He wears the mask and the jacket and flies towards Arkham Asylum to check out what happened. Today is Saturday so Jazz isn't working so he doesn't worry that much about Jazz.
On his way to Arkham, he encounters some rouge like The Riddler and Scarecrow. He knocks them out and hangs them on a poll and continues flying towards it. He's not a hero anymore but if the rogues are to enter and cause havoc in The Bowery, neither him, Jazz nor Ellie will be happy.
Suddenly, he sees a clown car speeding through the road at a very fast speed. Danny looks at it and sees the Joker along with his few goons are making a getaway while being chased down by a few cop cars. Danny flies down towards the clown car, and slowly unscrews the tyres of the car.
Danny flies back a little bit to the back and the clown car starts to wiggle and waggle and suddenly all of the tyres come off the car. Danny can hear the clown cursing heavily until finally they crash into a poll.He flies back down and just to make sure he is permanently down or at least down for some time, snap his back bone to incapacitate him.
Danny, still invisible, flies back up and continues on his way to Arkham. He meets a few more escapees like Mr. Freeze, Firefly and Killer Croc. Except for Killer Croc, all the other rouges are beaten up and sent back to Arkham. Killer Croc or Waylon is not thinking of causing trouble. He just wants to return to the sewer cause it is his home. Danny plans to maybe offer Waylon employment in their gang if he feels like Waylon is stable enough to work. Meanwhile, he will go around the city and beat up rogues that he is pretty sure is not going out to have a tea party.
When Danny lands on the roof, he opens his phone to see Cass is warning him to stay at home and not go outside. He smiles wryly since he is already outside and is beating up the rouges. Danny replies with a thumbs up and is about to continue flying when a shadow jumps out from behind him.
Danny: Uh, hello? How are you?
???: *Stares*
Danny: I'm no trouble. Just on the lookout just in case there is a rouge nearby. I see some guy beat up Scarecrow and The Riddler on my way here. They are not so scary when they don't have anything to use you know.
???: Where?
Danny: Errr, I think it is right over there. I was coming from that direction so you would probably see them if you go this way.
???: Thank you.
The shadow then vanishes and Danny is left standing there. The shadow really reminded him of Cass for some reason. Looking up online, apparently that one is called Black Bat.
Danny: Huh, they are out early today then. I guess they can work during the day.
Danny then turns invisible and returns back to the Bowery because most of the notorious rogues have been captured and Danny isn't worried about the rest.
#danny phantom#danny x cass#dead silent#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#batfam#cassandra cain#dc x dp#cass x danny
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christmas request for leah williamson:
"Just because we’re stuck under mistletoe doesn’t mean I have to kiss you.”
“Scared you might enjoy it?"
A Christmas Tease
Leah Williamson x fem!reader
summary: your teammate has quite the reputation and she will do anything to catch your attention
a/n: just a quick blurb i thought id write due to a sleepless night
“There she is!” Katie shouts, arm extended with a beer in hand, announcing your late arrival at the party.
“Yes, here I am. My tires are horrible with the snow and everyone drives like there’s a whole blizzard outside.” You roll your eyes, removing your outdoor gear to throw on the coat rack and embrace the warmth of the house.
You greet everyone with a smile and catch up to all the conversations that have happened within the last 20 minutes you have missed. You’ve gotten extremely close with many of your teammates despite only playing for Arsenal for only a couple of months. Once your USWNT teammate, Emily Fox, was signed, you weren’t too long after.
You had already known a lot of your teammates from international games and previous clubs you had played for, so there weren't too many people to get used to.
Besides one very obnoxious player.
Leah Williamson.
She has a reputation for sleeping around and placing girls in her trophy case. The team jokes that she’s challenging herself to sleep with every girl in London, and, unfortunately, her new target is you.
“Were you too busy answering prayers, angel?” A thick british accent breaks you out of your trance, making you jump in surprise.
“More like digging myself up from hell.” You say, giving her a plastered grin before taking a sip of the champagne that rests in your hand.
“I’ll have you one day, you know.” Leah states confidently, earning herself a sharp glare from you in which she only returns with a cocky smirk.
Not even wanting to argue with the girl, you scoff and walk over to where Lia and Mariona sit and join them in conversation. You’d never admit this to the blonde, not wanting to make her ego swell bigger than it anyway is, you used to have the biggest crush on her before you transferred to Arsenal.
You always found the blonde extremely attractive, especially on the pitch, but when you finally met her and found out about her off-the-pitch affairs, your crush faded away.
“You still there, amiga?” Mariona asks softly, noticing your silence.
“Yes, of course. Sorry, just a bit distracted.” You smile apologetically, twisting the glass in your hand for distraction.
“No need to apologize, but if I may, does this have anything to do with a certain english blonde defender?” Lia smirks teasingly as you roll your eyes and shake your head rapidly.
“Absolutely not. You know my feelings about that, Lia.” The swiss girl allows the conversation to disappear although she doesn’t believe you one bit.
—
“Next question, what is everyone’s favorite christmas song?” Kim asks the team who all are huddled around in the living space, you coincidentally smushed on a loveseat with Leah.
Many shouts are thrown across the room from voices trying to top each other, debating on what christening song is the ultimate song, including your voice.
Noticing the girl next to you zoning out and not participating, you bump your shoulder into hers, asking, “What about you? What’s your favorite christmas song?”
“Rockin’ around the christmas tree.” Leah nods in confidence.
“Why that one?” You immediately regret asking when that familiar cocky grin stretches along the older girl’s face.
“Because I know I can rock your world when you finally let me.” She whispers, leaning closer to you so no one else can hear, and quickly snapping back when you push her in disgust, making the girl chuckle and take a sip of her drink.
Many hours pass by with more questions, movies, karaoke, and so on before people start to trickle out to head back to their destined homes. It was only you and a few people left, cleaning up the snacks that were on display and garbage littered in small areas.
Leaning against the wall of the archway, someone clearing their throat grabs your attention next to you. You quickly see the blonde locks and huff in annoyance before turning back to look at what you were.
She taps your shoulder and points above the two of you, causing you to scoff when you notice the holiday plant hanging down by a string. Leah’s white teeth shimmer at you before puckering her lips and making exaggerated kissy noises.
“Just because we are under a mistletoe does not mean I have to kiss you.” You declare, watching the older girl with squinted eyes.
“Afraid you may enjoy it, darling?” Leah questions, pulling herself off the wall and moving slightly closer to you with a wide grin plastered on her face.
A weird shock runs through your body from hearing her husky tone, but you shake it off as the thought of a cold shiver. You swiftly look around to make sure no one is around before closing the gap between you and Leah, grabbing her arms and placing them on your hips while yours wraps around her neck.
The blonde’s smile fades and instead is replaced with a huge face of shock.
“I know I’ll enjoy it. I have been dreaming of you railing me into the mattress over and over again, having your way with me on every surface of every room, and making my legs shake violently with every orgasm you give me.” You whisper, lips brushing against the girl’s ear as her hands grip your hips together with every word.
“Yeah?” Leah’s voice shakes.
“Oh yeah, but this won’t ever happen except in your daydreams.”
With that, you down the rest of the drink in your hand and strut off to help Kim with the rest of the cleanup, leaving the defender in complete bewilderment and arousal.
Merry christmas indeed.
#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#katie mccabe#kim little#lia walti#mariona caldentey#woso x reader#woso fic#woso imagine#woso#emily fox
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Good Behavior
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 2,126
Warnings: Mean!Wanda Maximoff, Mommy Kink, Dom/sub dynamics, Fingering, Punishments | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: In which you misbehave, something which your mommy, Wanda, cannot have.
“Behave,” she had told you in her stern, hushing tone that made the world stop. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”
But even then, you went against her wishes.
During the weekends you found yourself glued to her indefinitely. Your hand would squeeze her own as each Saturday she dragged you off to run errands. In her dominant nature, Wanda disallowed you from so much as forming a single tangible thought. She was the one that drove then, a hand clasping the steering wheel as her free one held your own — thumb brushing over your skin. The days went by quickly when it was just you and her, but you still clung to the savory nature of them for dear life.
There came a particularly busy week once that left you in a harsh mental state of disarray. Many nights you came home after work to throw yourself in bed, leaving Wanda to hold you tight and soothe your angry tears away. The frustration pushed your body down as Wanda pulled you up. Although a mean, ragged soul towards others, when it came to you, she’d give you the world.
When it came to rushing through the grocery store on a busy Saturday morning, you stuck to her like glue. Normally she took to dressing you in lovely outfits she intricately spent time picking out for you, but after having awoken much later than usual – resulting in a missed morning run alongside yoga and a sour mood – you had been left to fend for yourself and don an oversized hoodie alongside sweats and horribly tied shoes Wanda found herself gawking at with disbelief. She held off from commenting as she knew it would only result in her growing more furious.
“Can we get this?” You spoke up for the first time since you arrived at the store, pointing your finger towards a box of cereal that had enough colors and sugar to most likely induce cardiac arrest. “It looks really good. Please, I’m tired of that stale, tasteless cereal you always buy.”
“But you said you liked it,” Wanda frowned, but shook her head after letting out a hefty sigh. “And you can’t eat that, sweetheart. With the amount of sugar it has, it can probably kill a bear.”
If she could be in a bad mood, so could you. “But I want it,” you huffed – the stomping foot that came afterwards only accentuated your fussiness from not having breakfast that morning. “I’ve behaved so far and you promised to reward me. Please, let me have this.”
You tried to throw it in the shopping cart only for Wanda to slap your hands away. “Put it back,” she warned. “Now.”
“No,” you retorted. As soon as the simple word left your mouth, you deeply regretted it, but there was no point in backing down as you clutched the cereal box before throwing it in the cart. With the mixture of the little sleep you had gotten the previous night and the lack of food in your stomach, it was no wonder you blew up over the smallest things, much like Wanda. “Just because you’re a bitch to everyone else doesn’t mean you get to be one to me too.”
And that…made her go entirely quiet, which was even worse than having Wanda shout at you angrily in the middle of the store.
Since then, no words were spoken, but from the look on her face after your outburst, you knew to remove the box of cereal and silently follow along. Wanda didn’t so much as give you a single look. Instead, she took to fully ignoring your presence. Her lips were formed into a thin line and given the knowledge the townspeople had of your partner, they knew to stay away from her unless they wished to face her wrath. Too bad it would be you on the receiving end of it.
As you dragged your feet to the car helping Wanda load the groceries into the trunk, you feared for her to unravel inside, only to be met with nothing. The drive home was eerie. No matter how many times you attempted to make conversation, the woman’s eyes and focus never left the road.
Well, that was until the groceries were safely put away at home. From then on you could feel dark hooded green eyes crawling on you. And as soon as you made contact with them, you obediently made your way upstairs following her phantom instructions.
Only bad pets misbehaved, and according to Wanda, so far you had been the worst on that day.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
“I’m really sorry,” you tried to offer, but it came with no avail. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I just…I got really angry and it slipped out. I promise I-”
“Shut up.”
Hands traveled down your body caressing every small area encompassing the surface. They were soft, gentle palms that explored you as though it was the first time. You knew that no matter how infuriated Wanda was, she’d never fail to take time to worship your body – to squeeze your breasts before pulling and pinching your nipples until they hardened or even tickle your sides enough to draw out laughter that made her chest warm. She could be cold, sure, but at the end of the day, her love for you was much more monumental than anything else.
With your back lying against her front, Wanda had easy access to you. She had taken the time to shed your body of the confines of clothes before replacing them with an atmosphere of humiliation. Her hands tugged and slapped themselves over you out of anger, something that made you let out mixtures of moans and screams. Your wrists were bound on your back with ankles tied with bindings that were attached to a long, metal bar which forced your legs apart. She only took it out when it came time for hefty punishments which she knew you’d try to stop to rile her up even further.
“You called me a bitch.” It was a statement that came from flared nostrils. “And you didn’t care to listen to mommy when she told you time and time again to put the cereal back. You keep apologizing, but baby,” she leaned in, her hot breath hitting your ear and making you shudder with exhilaration. “That’s not going to do you any good. You need to learn your lesson. This is the only way a dumb girl like you will know to behave just as her mommy taught her. Because I fail to remember when I told you it was fine to be such a stupid thing.”
Her hand glided in front of you, carefully ghosting right above the drenched area where you needed her the most. No matter how much you tried to squirm and grunt at her to touch you, to give you what you so desired, Wanda ignored your needs. Instead, she settled for smacking your pussy over and over, simply eliciting grand amounts of pain from you as she enjoyed seeing you in such a state of dishevelment.
“Stupid girl,” Wanda muttered, making you squirm right against her skin. You could feel her erect nipples sliding with your back, but she disallowed you from turning and enjoying the view of her nudity. “You’re fucking disgusting for behaving like that.” Another slap came against your cunt, but you were unable to move with both your hands and legs bound. “And now you think you can sweet talk your way out of this? How pathetic of a slut can you be? Didn’t I teach you to behave? How many times does mommy need to spank this pussy for you to learn your fucking lesson, Y/N?”
“I’m sorry,” you cried, but she knew you didn’t mean it. Instead, you wanted more – more of your pussy being left severely abused by the palm of her hand all while you yelled at her to stop, but it only meant for her to carry on. “I-I promise I’ll never misbehave again. And I didn’t mean to call you that.”
“Oh now you’re sorry? You’re only sorry that you’re being punished, whore, not for being a bad girl,” she huffed. “Don’t worry. Mommy will have to fuck the bad behavior out of you. After I’m done with you, you’ll never dare say that again, especially not about the person who you belong to, sweetheart.”
When her fingers, two at once, first slipped inside you without warning, you groaned. Surely the feeling was familiar, and yet you basked in being stretched out as though it was your first time all over again. Throwing your head back on Wanda’s shoulder, there came an attempt to grind against her digits, only for her other hand to come down and lightly smack your clit. Although you were in pain, it meant pleasure for her.
Since the incident at the grocery store, heat panged between your legs with exhilaration at the thought of whatever Wanda had planned for you. It wouldn’t take much for her to drive you to the edge of glory. If anything, the more your partner thrust her digits within you, the closer you were to letting go. Your hands turned to fists as they were unable to hold onto much while your legs gave failed attempts to kick.
“Stay still, darling,” Wanda laughed at the sight of you trying to get away. “And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable. Aww, is my little girl all needy to cum? Mommy’s fingers feel way too good in this pussy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you choked out. “Feels so good. Wan’ cum…”
“But do you think you deserve the opportunity to cum all over my fingers, honey? Go on, use your big girl words since that’s what you think of yourself as. Tell mommy that you deserve to cum and I’ll let you do so. After all, you’re nothing but a dumb cumslut addicted to my fingers…”
“I deserve to cum.” But not even you believed such deceptive words. “I-I want it so bad, please. Mommy!”
She let you do as you pleased, her digits buried knuckle-deep in your hole when you came. The orgasm that shot through you was earth-shattering, something that forced the loudest scream from the depths of your throat as your inner walls clung to Wanda’s hand for dear life. Her free hand palmed at your breasts, alternating between each of them as she roughly massaged the mounds before taking to torturing your nipples.
“Thank you,” you shuddered as you spoke, your words shaky when they left your mouth. “I-”
“Don’t thank me yet.” She cut you off, and although normally Wanda kept her fingers inside you as you came down your orgasm, it made you frown when she began moving them again. “You gave me only one, baby. Why don’t you give mommy more of what she wants, huh? Or are you too dumb to do it by yourself? I bet you are.”
No matter how much you came, Wanda didn’t stop. She added a third finger, spitting on her hand as she pumped it back into your pussy. A thumb pressed against your bulbous clit, rubbing it languidly while your grunts only grew louder. Her ragged breathing mirrored your own, casting a spell upon your being that made it impossible to focus, even for a second, on anything that wasn’t her.
That night Wanda made you cum over and over again. Her fingers didn’t pull out for what felt like hours as even a fourth was added once you were relaxed enough. The only time she left the bed was to seek out a rather curious little clit sucker that she pressed against you before beaming with pride at the mess she turned you into.
“Hmm maybe you are a good girl,” Wanda mumbled as she held you close. Four orgasms passed and your eyes could barely remain open. The woman towered over you, hands running down the front of your body which made her hum with approval. “Mommy’s good girl, huh? You did a wonderful job taking mommy, Y/N, and for that I think someone deserves a reward.”
Once you were bathed, your head was placed on her chest as your lips parted to latch onto one of her nipples. Eyelids were far too heavy to be forced open, but alas, Wanda didn’t mind. She simply ran her fingers through your hair, allowing herself to relax with your naked body pressed with her. Suckling on her nipple, you ignored the torture that had been exerted on your body. Surely the remnants of it would come out the following day, but as you lay next to Wanda, you knew it was a nonissue.
#cthulhus’ fanfics#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wlw fanfic#marvel smut#scarlet witch x reader
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hi dee! can i request iwaizumi + power outage due to heavy snow storm pls 🎁 happy holidays <3
under the covers 🎀 iwaizumi hajime x f!reader
In which a snow storm, a power outage, and the utter necessity of body heat find you in your roommate's bed.
2.1k — 18+ only, roommate!iwaizumi, roommates to lovers speed run, cuddling for warmth, dry humping, fingering
12:54 am
The numbers glow bright in the darkness of your room as you tap your phone screen, teeth chattering within the bundle of blankets you’re currently burrowed beneath. Despite your best efforts, your own body heat has done little to warm the makeshift cocoon.
A gust of wind rattles your bedroom window as the snow storm outside rages on, leaving a layer of frozen white crystals stuck to the shuddering screen.
The power’s been out for a few hours now—and subsequently the heat to your apartment. Any hope that you may have had for it to kick back on tonight is dwindling significantly by the minute.
Sighing, you glance up at the ceiling before wrenching yourself out of bed with your layers of blankets clutched against you. Your muscles ache from shivering, but you ignore it and slip out into the hallway.
Your roommate’s door sits slightly ajar.
“Iwaizumi, are you awake?” you call out quietly from the doorway.
The creaking of a bed frame is followed by soft footsteps padding across carpet, and the door squeaks slightly as it opens further.
If anything could send heat flooding to your gut, it’s this—the sight of Iwaizumi Hajime with pillow-mussed hair and his pretty eyes that look equal parts tired and concerned.
“You alright?” he asks.
He’s wearing his old Aoba Johsai hoodie. The same one, your brain helpfully reminds you, that you were wearing earlier this morning while cooking breakfast. There’s still a tiny splatter of pancake batter on one shoulder.
You wonder if he saw the drool spot on the sleeve from when you fell asleep on the couch wearing it.
“I can’t sleep,” you admit.
He nods, rubbing his eyes and dragging a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but find yourself momentarily distracted by the motion.
At this rate, you’re beginning to think Iwaizumi could save you from hypothermia by just gawking at him like a stupid lovesick fool.
“Me either, the insulation in this building is shit. And it doesn’t look like they’re gonna get this fixed anytime soon.” He glances back over his shoulder at the snow that continues to fall heavily outside, illuminated by the golden glow of a streetlamp.
Your heart knocks anxiously against your ribcage as you ready yourself to ask the question that you’ve spent the past hour rehearsing in your head.
“I don’t think so, either. But uh…should we maybe try combining our blanket forts in a joint effort to not freeze to death?” You gesture toward the similar pile of blankets on his bed, suddenly feeling more awkward and nervous than you ever have in the past year that you’ve lived together.
If nothing else, you’ll remain forever smug that your habit of shamelessly collecting throw blankets has finally found its purpose—despite the judgemental sigh your roommate responds with every time you come home with a new one.
Iwaizumi laughs, “As long as you don’t hog them all.”
“I make no promises,” you shrug, aiming for nonchalance despite the lingering trepidation inside of you.
—
Early morning light creeps in through the window when your eyes crack open partyway, and the first thing you register is warmth. Wonderful, splendid warmth.
…solid warmth that slowly rises and falls beneath you, two arms snaked around your middle—
Oh.
The good news? Both of you managed to fall asleep last night curled up inches apart atop Iwaizumi’s mattress.
The other good news? While you’re buried under too many blankets to tell if the power made a miraculous return while you were sleeping, you’re deliciously warm all the same.
(Warm enough that you apparently kicked off your sweatpants in your sleep.)
The bad news?
The source of heat beneath you is your unfairly handsome roommate, who’s fast asleep and holding you to his chest with his hands tucked under his hoodie and splayed against the bare skin of your lower back.
He’d unceremoniously stuffed said hoodie back over your head when he turned around to find you shivering after he finished laying out your combined blankets on his bed.
—before you’d both climbed under the pile with the awkward air of a newly married couple in an arranged marriage preparing to spend their first night together.
But now—
It leaves you dizzy, being this wrapped up in the familiar scent of his body wash and cologne while his thumb unconsciously presses into the dip just above the curve of your ass.
And—he’s hard.
Heat freely sparks and combusts in your abdomen, your throat going dry as you try to ignore the tingle of pleasure from the feeling of him pressed between your legs.
Slowly, you try to peel yourself off of him for the sake of your sanity—because you can already feel yourself getting mortifyingly wet. You’re too tired and sensitive and pent up for this.
But Iwaizumi’s grip on you tightens as he murmurs in a sleep-rough voice, “Don’t hog the blankets.”
A small laugh bubbles up in your chest, and you let a finger skate against his side. “I’m not a blanket!” you protest weakly, trying to steady your voice.
Forgetting how ticklish your roommate is, your mistake only becomes apparent when his body jerks in reaction to your touch, leaving his erection to press fully against the heat between your legs.
You gasp before you can stop yourself, and Iwaizumi’s eyes fly open, all remaining traces of sleep quickly slipping away as he takes in your position. The two of you stare at one another for a beat.
“I’ll just—”
You go to shift off of him, prickling with mortification, but his grip on you remains.
“Are you warm?” he asks quietly. Calmly. Pointedly. Clearly not on the verge of dying of embarrassment like yourself.
You nod, slowly.
“Good,” he mirrors your nod. “Sleep a little longer, it looks like it’s still early.”
He says it matter-of-factly, as if he’s not at all bothered by the fact that you’re plastered against his chest, flush against his hard cock.
But he’s so warm—
And you’re still so tired—
Sliding one hand up to the back of your head, he brushes his fingers against your hair in a way that has your eyelids going heavy again as you let yourself sink into his warmth.
If you weren’t so exhausted in the first place, so comfortable in Iwaizumi’s arms, you may have foreseen your next mistake.
But as you fall asleep to the near-silent murmur of, “You’re so warm,” that rustles against the shell of your ear—well, consequences are the last thing on your mind.
You’ve had this dream plenty of times before, the hot, slick heat of Iwaizumi’s mouth on yours. The press of his fingertips into your sides, his tongue against your teeth. The deep rumble of a moan in his chest as you nip at his bottom lip, the answering whimper in your own as he cups your face and kisses you roughly in turn.
The thick press of his cock between your legs as you straddle his waist, your panties already slick with arousal as he grabs your hips and groans, pulling you into him even harder when you start to rock against him.
You’ve woken up soaking wet and alone in bed countless times from dreams like this, dreams of kissing your roommate until you’re both panting and desperate. Dreams of feeling the shape of his dick through his pants as you dry hump him until you’re both on the verge of combusting.
You’ve stuffed a vibrator inside of your tight, creamy hole half-awake to dreams of him flipping you over and thrusting his cock inside—
“Shit.”
You jolt awake to the sound of Iwa’s voice, and you find your lips plastered against Iwaizumi’s neck, the skin there already slick with saliva. Your cunt throbs, and Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into your hips as he drags his clothed cock against your panties.
“I—” he cuts himself off when a whine escapes your lips.
“Iwa,” you pant, realizing one of your fingers is buried in his hair.
“Sorry, I—” he groans when you shift atop him, your folds sliding against your sopping wet panties. “—I was sleeping, and you…”
Gasping at the pleasure that crawls up your spine, you gasp, “Don’t stop.”
Iwaizumi goes still for a moment, though you can feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. “Are you sure?”
You’ll feel a little pathetic for how quick and needy your response comes out later, but for now, you’re too desperate to care.
“Please.”
He exhales, breath coming out ragged as his hands slide to your waist, pushing up your—his—hoodie and your shirt underneath until your tits are nearly hanging out.
His hands burn everywhere they touch your bare skin.
“You have no idea what it does to me every time you wear this,” he rasps.
Heat throbs between your thighs at his admission, at the way he drags his teeth against his bottom lip when his thumbs just barely feather against the lower swell of your breasts.
It’s wholly deliberate this time, the way you drag your hips down against him, and you revel in the way his neck strains as he pushes his head back into the pillow, eyes falling shut.
Even through his sweatpants, the shape and size of Iwaizumi’s cock imprints itself against your pussy with each push and drag, leaving your mouth to water at the thought of him stuffing it inside of you. At the thought of your cunt stretching to accommodate him, sucking him in and taking each inch until he’s slamming against your cervix while you sob his name.
Iwa’s hand cups the side of your neck, sliding up to stroke your jaw as he brings your mouth to meet his, lips hovering against yours as he finally finishes his previous sentence, “You woke me up like this.”
“Sorry,” you gasp, spine arching as your clit catches the outline of the head of his shaft just right. “—Iwa.” His name is less punctuation to your statement than an automatic reaction to the way he presses up into you harder when he sees the way you shudder in pleasure.
“That’s not what you were moaning in your sleep,” he murmurs, chin clasped between two fingers, his stubble brushing against your face as he presses a slow, hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.
He brings a hand down to the curve of your ass, fingers closing around the lacy fabric that covers it and tugging it into a fist. You keen, mouth falling open as he bunches your panties from the back, leaving the fabric to dig tightly into your slit.
“Hajime,” you choke out as he extends a finger, slipping it past your stretched underwear to stroke the outside of your fluttering, dripping hole. You can almost feel it pulsate under his touch, your walls clenching in anticipation.
You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed by how wet you are, not after the groan that tumbles from his lips as he feels the evidence of it.
“Say it again,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Hajime,” you moan, and he abandons his grip on your panties entirely to thrust a thick finger inside of you.
Later, maybe, you’ll find the wherewithal to giggle a little with a quip about giving him somewhere hot and wet to stay warm.
But right now, all you can do is writhe on top of him, whining in pleasure as Iwaizumi fingers you while you hump his cock, the dual pleasure turning you into a trembling, needy mess.
You spread your legs even further as he stuffs a second finger inside of you, his voice a hoarse rasp as he groans about how fucking wet you are before capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss.
“Come for me,” he groans, a string of sticky saliva hanging between your lips while he curls his fingers inside of you. “Let me feel it.”
When you tip over the edge, your vision goes white as every muscle in your body seizes with pleasure, your pussy spasming in a slippery, soaked mess while Iwaizumi finger fucks you through your orgasm.
You can feel him press up into you roughly as you ride it out, your name tumbling from his lips in a stuttered gasp as his cock throbs, flooding his boxers with hot, thick ropes of cum that you can feel as it soaks through his sweatpants.
Both of you go boneless, quiet save for the sound of your breathing until you hear the sound of the power clicking back on. Looking up from where your head is currently pressed to Iwaizumi’s chest, you confirm your suspicions when you see the lamp on his bedside table now illuminated.
“How long do you think it’ll take for the shower to heat up?” you ask him coyly.
Iwaizumi laughs hoarsely in response.
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MISTLETOE TRAP
Prompt 3: mistletoe
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: after spending so long watching you and Eddie hopelessy flirt with eachother, the club comes up with a plan fit for the festive season to bring you guys together. Warnings: mention of kissing, brief mention of Eddie being in the hospital. one mention of Y/n, I APOLOGISE
🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ
🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ
Christmas music played softly in the background as the club played a festive board game, yelling and screaming over each other filled the room as everyone pointed fingers to who's cheating.
the smell of pizza filled your noses as the fire crackled of Gareth's livingroom.
the lights of the tree twinkling in your eyes as you sat on the couch next to Eddie, everyone else choosing to sit on the dirty carpet. pillows under all their buts to soften the hard wooden floor.
it was perfect, everyone having fun, laughing- more or less when everybody isn't fighting, but despite that, it was perfect.
the club did this every year, but it's the first time Mike, Lucas and Dustin have attended.
and while this was their first time hanging out for Christmas games, this was not their first rodeo when seeing a certain pair of flirty best friends that are way to close to be just friends.
"my hands are a bit cold, mind warming them up for me?" Eddie had smiled, earning many silent groans from the room, from everyone except you, who had blushed and shook your head sheepishly
"I have a feeling you just want an excuse to hold my hand, Eds" you teased
"you caught me. so what do you say?" you nudged you, holding out his hand.
you've always been the flirty type of duo, you and Eddie. you don't know when it happened, it started with little remarks in certain situations that he deemed fit, then you slowly began retaliating, giving small comments back that left poor Eddie flushed in surprise. but the certain situations turned into a weekly thing, then soon every time you'd see each other.
"I say my hands are quite cold too" you rolled your eyes, slapping your hand in his and interlocking fingers
you barely noticed the glared and groans from anyone in the room until they all got up and left, saying they are going to the kitchen for seconds
where they all huddled up, sick of their dungeon master and his best friend acting like a bunch of idiots while flirting with each other.
"I'm sick of this, it's been going on too long" Jeff sighed
"I think it's cute" Dustin shrugged "Eddie deserves love too"
"Really? you think our dungeon master complaining his hands are too cold and that she needs to hold them is cute?" Lucas shook his head, questioning his friend's sanity,
because what you and Eddie have going on, is not cute.
"it's a bit cheesy-" Dustin started before Mike cut him off
"-it's gross!"
"Well, what do we do?" Gareth bit the inside of his cheek
then Dustin had an idea.
a brilliant idea
it was just involve talking to Steve.
🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ
You walked into the Harrington home with Robin.
a little party with Steve's friends that you had been invited to, given that his parents went out of town.
you walked in, surprised to see the whole club sitting on the couch, including Eddie- which was less surprising
you knew Steve and Eddie were mutual friends, or friends, you're still not sure, you've never seen them directly talk after Eddie got permitted out of the hospital.
but the whole club here was definitely not something you would expect. but god you were happy
"we were waiting for you" The Munson boy cheered on your arrival
"don't cream your pants, we were just stuck in traffic" you rolled your eyes, pointing the robin behind you who threw her coat on the coat hanger, literally, letting it fall to the ground
"You do know how to put a coat on a hanger, right?" Steve huffed, picking her jacket up and hanging it on a hook while you settled on the couch, right next to open seat next to the one and only Eddie
the whole club had greeted you with unsettling smiles, Dustin rocking his legs as he sat cross legged on the floor.
their faces made you suspicious, they were always up to no good with those looks on their faces
"what's up with them?" you whispered to Eddie, who shrugged
he picked up a Garfield mug, steam floating up and reaching his nose as he brought it up to his lips. humming at the taste before pulling it away and back onto the coffee table
you giggled, looking away when he turned to you
"what? do I have something on my face?" he smirked, knowing the fluffy whipped cream adorned his top lip
you shook your head as he leaned in
"wanna help me out and get it off?" he raised his eyebrows, nudging your shoulder
it was a sight to barf at to everyone else I the room, but fighting against the sickening interaction, they knew this had to happen, this was all apart of the plan, well not this but this party.
that's actually a lie, Steve had invited everyone over for a little gathering, and by everyone he means his friends, but due to much begging to his favourite child, Steve had let Dustin bring the club too, why? the Harrington boy doesn't know, nor understand but whatever.
you huffed, reaching up and swiping the foam off of his lip, silently gasping when he connected his lips with your thumb, licking it off your finger.
the party's eyes were wide with disgust and shock before Dustin spoke up quickly
"Eddie why don't you get Y/n a cup of hot coco while we explain the rules of the game to her"
Eddie looked over to the freshmen and nodded, getting up
"marshmallows?" he asked before leaving, earning a happy nod from you
"only th-" you started before he cut you off, disappearing down the hall to the kitchen
"-the white ones!"
you blushed and smiled, watching as Steve placed The Christmas game down on the table, Mike eagerly opening it up
"so the rules of the game is-" Dustin began
"I know the rules of the game, Dusty, I've been playing this since before you knew how to walk" you chuckled, shifting on the couch
you leaned over and helped set up for the game, Nancy walking in from upstairs, had being in the bathroom when you had arrived. when you were busy putting the cards down on the board, Gareth had taken the bundle of mistletoe from his bag and tiptoed to the doorway of the hallway, connecting the Livingroom and kitchen, where he peeked over the corner to see Eddie lift up the mug and put marshmallows in.
he came and sat down without you realising he left before he spoke up
"hey...Eddie's been gone for a while, why don't you check on him?" he asked you, nodding his head in the direction to the kitchen
"oh.. uh sure" you frowned, getting up, it's not like Eddie couldn't handle making a cup of hot cocoa, but you walked to the kitchen anyway.
you walked through the open wall and yelped when you bumped into his hard frame, the cup of hot chocolate swished and spilled on his chest, earning a groan from him and a gasp from you
"oh shit, I'm so sorry" you blinked rapidly.
"it's fine, love, not your fault" he smiled tightly, sighing
you went to say something but you heard a few hushed laughs and Lucas coughing
you both looked back to notice their gazes focused above you
you look up and back down, confused before you did a double take and your eyes widened, Eddie looking up right after you, a sigh leaving his lips.
a bundle of green and red hanging above you, tied with a ribbon, a bow, mistletoe.
"oh" you said in unison
Eddie looked back down at you, watching as you stared up
he whispered "we don't have to- it's just a silly tradition"
that made you frown, did he not want to kiss you?
you know you were best friends but you had always hoped for more, not that you weren't happy, but he was just so...him, so perfect in your eyes.
"you have to kiss!" Robin smiled
-she wasn't in in the plan, no one but the party was, Steve knew but he wasn't listening when Dustin was rambling, all Steve remembered was him asking if the club could come, and Steve figured half of them were coming, may as well just give the kid what he wants to shut up.
you look down at Eddie to see his concerned face
or was it sad?
you couldn't make it out, but they held something of that sort
"may as well" you shrugged "you know we'll never hear the end of it from them if we don't"
he licked his lips
Eddie was sweating, everywhere. and not just from the fireplace they were right next to. but because he had thought over your first kiss so many times before.
it was be so perfect, so romantic, gentle but desperate. maybe looking over the town or during a drive in movie he'd take you to.
definitely not in Steve Harrington's Livingroom, and certainly not in front of all of yours and his friends.
he'd want it to be right. not a forced act, but an act of love.
because it's you
his best friend.
his lifelong crush
so to say Eddie Munson was sweating balls in this moment would be an understatement.
in the corner of his eyes he saw everyone looking at you both, expectedly
but his eyes were focused on yours. looking so deep into yours that he felt he was melting away
why was it so hot? apart from the scorching hot cocoa that drenched his band tee.
the way you looked at him, so soft, you were so beautiful, the coloured lights from the massive Harrington Christmas tree illuminating your face perfectly, you always looked beautiful in red.
"I don't want our first kiss to be in front of everyone" he mumbled to you finally. moth slightly agape, eyes wide in despair
you furrowed your brows when you looked over silently, watching as they all looked away
the room was dead quiet, the only noise was the crackle of the fire, so they must have heard Eddie.
so as they all looked out the window, watching the snow fall outside, tiny snowflakes dancing in the wind of the night, you looked back up at Eddie.
you silently parted your lips.
he looked back down at you.
he silently parted his lips.
he brought a hand up, slowly.
you brought a hand up, slowly.
his hand meeting the plush of your cheek.
your hand meeting the skin of his exposed hip.
then you leaned in, slowly.
so slow.
Eddie watched as your eyes fluttered shut as his nosed brushed against yours.
and his own soon shut as his lips met yours, grazing ever so gently before he took a sharp intake of breath before fully connecting them, pressing his lips firmly on yours.
Jesus, how they fit so perfectly, he thought to himself.
God, how they fit so perfectly, you thought to yourself.
your lips moved perfectly in sync, creating the kiss that Eddie had envisioned so many times before. it may have even been better.
his warm hand cupping your cheek, his fingertips rough but oh so gentle.
everyone in the room stayed looking outside awkwardly as they heard nothing, but Dustin, deciding to take a peek, was only able to catch a glimpse of the kiss ending, you both pulling away from each other, smiling softly as your eyes fluttered open
your eyes met again. your smile growing as you saw his blown out gaze, the colour of his eyes barely recognisable through his irises as he looked down at you
"I'll make you another hot chocolate" he said, blinking, in a haze of some sort
"I'll come with you" you replied, matching his tone as you grabbed his hand
everyone watched as you both disappeared down the hallway to the kitchen
"they're going to make out in my kitchen aren't they?" Steve spoke up after a minute, frowning
"leave the kids be, Steve, they've finally found out what horniness feels like" Robin joked, leaning against the back of the couch.
Steve's head whipped around in horror. so many thoughts in the poor head of his. are they gonna have sex in my kitchen?
"don't worry guys, this is just what the mistletoe trap does, it brings people together" Dustin said cluelessly
"that's what this was!?" Steve hissed at him, finally remembering something along the lines of 'bringing a young couple together' and 'mistletoe' that Dustin had said over the phone to him when he was just trying to focus on how to shut him up.
🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ
bonus-
Steve storms into his kitchen, it's been too long since you both went in there and he wasn't ready for a baby to be made in that room.
all he sees is you, pressed against the counter with Eddie holding you, soft moans and sighs escaping your lips as your hands roamed each others body, your mouths locked together as you made out aggressively.
"DISGUSTING!" Steve yelled.
🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ
#imagines#eddie munson x reader#x fem!reader#joseph quinn#oneshot#ami's christmas prompts#fluff#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem#stranger things fic#eddie munson#please request#christmas prompts
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Misty Copeland, my beloved.
I can't even say that 'appreciation' is the word, at least in the case of bellydance. It's just what happens when a culture touches another. Because 'bellydance' itself is a very broad term that encompasses a variety of dance styles that may have no verifiable country of origin.
Correct me of I'm wrong, of course!
Under a cut because apparently I'm infodumping on dance history.
The best we have as an origin people are the Ghawazee, and today's style looks very little like their practice (which is still taught by it's sole remaining member). But the people traveled before settling in Egypt, so a clear origin is difficult to pinpoint. And you do hear claims that bellydance is Egyptian, and while it's not untrue, it's not the entire story- Ghawazee spent some time in Egypt and the style stuck around to have a stylistic exchange. And a lot of the old Hollywood depictions of bellydance are something between this cultural fusion and awalim. All of these styles, and so many more of that region, informed each other and inspired each other as trade routes between countries became more common, and the Ottoman Empire brought it northward as far as modern day Austria.
And the dance style has been criticized pretty much everywhere it goes. Like our earliest footage of the dance was as a Victorian sideshow that was considered by the primarily white male audience to be vulgar. But as Egyptian film made this style more easily accessed, fondness for it grew, and we enter Golden Age of Bellydance- which was not always not the most culturally sensitive depiction, but it gave a lot of dancers a chance to show their skills to a wider audience- and now women want to learn it too! Teachers pop up everywhere, even though it's still considered a little risque in many cultures.
Bellydance was being seen all over the world because of cinema, even if inaccurate so. And there was a fascination with Egypt that made it the center of attention for a lot of film. There were tons of middle eastern dance clubs, though they were, again, kind of a fantasy version of it.
And then it got hairy.
Iranian Revolution in 1979 put a lot of restrictions on dance. If you were a dance teacher affected by this, your choices were either stop dancing or immigrate to a country where you'd be allowed to teach. So you see a huge boom in the 80s of Egyptian Cabaret styles taking root in the US because the interest in Egyptian culture made it easy to set up shop.
So most of what you're seeing today in modern stage styles is either second or third generation of Egyptian Cabaret style through several layers of translation, which in itself is deep in layers of translation, applied to the melting pot of America and then to the exposure of film, TV, music video, YouTube, Instagram, and then finally TikTok.
And that's fucking fascinating! The cultural exchange that had to happen for us to get that half-beat Turkish drop is high key cool af, just to think about all of the steps we had to go through to get here. It is an ever-evolving discipline of dance, and the fact that Shining Protector is still teaching the old ways of her people to keep traditions alive is AMAZING!
We should want this. And I don't know how to explain to people that sometimes the watered-down white people spicy version is the gateway drug to taking an active interest in a different culture.
When one culture comes in contact with another and the peoples share the things that enrich their lives, that is cultural exchange. But I think it's hard for some people to see any interaction with a white culture as neutral-positive. And it's somewhat difficult to explain the difference.
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hey you | fiyero x reader
author’s note; i was bored and was like why not put my shit into well words 🤷🏻♀️ btw it’s been years when i wrote a fanfic so bear with me 🥹
summary; a series of lingering glances and a playful conversation break the silence, sparking the beginning of a connection neither of them expected.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
For the past few days, Y/n had been consumed by a strange, almost surreal feeling whenever Fiyero, the Winkie prince, was nearby. She would catch him glancing in her direction across the school grounds, his gaze lingering just a moment too long, enough to send a flutter through her chest.
But no matter how many times it happened, she couldn’t bring herself to take that first step. She wasn’t like the others, like Galinda, who could easily walk up to anyone and start a conversation without hesitation.
No, she was more reserved, careful with her feelings, and afraid of being too obvious.
“You’re totally just waiting,” she muttered to herself.
“You don’t want to be the desperate one.”
Her thoughts were interrupted when her friend, a more outgoing classmate, bumped her shoulder.
“He’s staring at you again,” her friend teased, gesturing toward Fiyero, who was now walking toward their spot.
He was, once again, looking directly at her, that same piercing gaze that made her heart skip a beat.
“And now he’s walking towards us and–” her friend continued, her voice becoming background noise as Y/n’s thoughts turned inward.
Why couldn’t she just face this? Why couldn’t she summon the courage to talk to him? Every time their eyes met, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach, but she didn’t want to make it obvious.
Was it just a phase? Something that would fade away once the newness wore off? She wasn’t sure, but in that moment, all she wanted was to be able to breathe normally again.
“…..Can you even hear me?” her friend asked, pulling her from her reverie.
“Huh?” she blinked, looking at her friend in confusion.
“Got your thoughts stuck in the clouds, darling?” Fiyero’s voice cut through, accompanied by a smirk that made her feel even more flustered than she already was.
She blinked again, looking at him now standing right in front of them.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
For the past few days, Fiyero had noticed her—seriously noticed her. He saw something in her that intrigued him, something he couldn’t quite place.
She was different from the others, distant yet strangely captivating. It was almost like she was hesitant to engage with him, unsure of how to approach him, yet every time their eyes met, there was a spark—something undeniable.
He caught her eye from across the room. She seemed to be lost in her own world, her gaze flickering between curiosity and hesitation. He couldn’t help but notice the way she kept glancing his way, yet never making a move.
"Hey, you," he thought to himself, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Stop staring from afar." He wondered why she seemed so cautious.
There was no need to be afraid of him. He wasn’t someone to be feared. He just wanted her to know that he'd notice her, that he was interested.
"Why don’t you just come over and talk to me?" he silently mused.
He wasn't a stranger to making the first move, and maybe it was time to break the ice.
He noticed how her eyes would flicker his direction again, but she still stayed in her place, as if bound by some invisible restraint.
He wished she knew it didn’t have to be complicated. Nothing was stopping her from approaching him.
There was no need to hide behind uncertainty. Hearts could be free, open, unafraid.
He wasn’t the type to judge. He just wanted to see if she could take that step toward him, to show a little courage.
"Why don’t you come over?" he wondered again, the thought lingering in the air between them.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
And then, in front of her, his voice broke through the silence.
“I see you every morning, doing the same thing,” Fiyero continued, a playful edge to his tone.
Her face reddened, and she stammered, unsure of how to respond.
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
His smirk deepened. "Don’t think I can feel you staring at me?" he teased, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“I didn’t mean–” she started, but she could barely finish the sentence as he continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“So, what’s your name again?” he asked, as if they hadn’t already crossed paths countless times in the halls.
As if he wasn’t already running through her mind day and night, just like she had been doing to him.
And with that simple question, everything changed. The unspoken tension between them—the silent moments, the hesitant glances—had finally shifted into something tangible. A new chapter was beginning, one that neither of them had expected but both were secretly hoping for.
In that moment, all of her doubts and fears about what this connection could be seemed to fade away. Maybe it wasn’t just a phase. Maybe there was something real here, something worth exploring.
The hesitation she had held onto so tightly began to loosen, and for the first time in days, she felt a spark of hope—hope that perhaps this was the start of something neither of them could have predicted.
#fiyero tigelaar#wicked fiyero#fiyero x reader#fiyero tigelaar x reader#jonathan bailey#wicked#wicked movie
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Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!
I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.
Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*
Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠
Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot
RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!
MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC
Glory, Glory
It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again.
But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.
Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.
“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”
“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.
“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”
An order. More like a toothless threat.
But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right.
“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.
“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”
“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer.
“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night.
He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again.
All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it.
He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him.
Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.
“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”
“She’s got a knife!”
“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”
In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete.
One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle.
Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,
“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”
The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life,
“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”
A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.
It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes.
“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps.
“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.
“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”
“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”
“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.
“Police?” She asked, a little confused.
“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”
“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead.
When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.
“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”
As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern.
“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”
“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.
“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe.
“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”
Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand.
“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”
The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion.
Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger.
Possession.
He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did.
Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha.
After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level.
She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,
“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief.
“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”
“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”
This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then…
“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock.
“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time.
“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point.
Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control.
“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time.
She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life.
“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power.
“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret.
“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”
“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself.
“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”
She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,
“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”
Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind.
No.
“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat.
“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again.
He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,
“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”
All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.
She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her.
John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,
“Give me your neck, Omega.”
The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course.
Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly.
The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her.
He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out.
“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it.
John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms.
He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work.
She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip.
Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex.
John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.
“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole.
John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it.
When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate.
Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue.
“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high.
“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”
At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her.
“Fuck… so bloody warm…”
Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness.
The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need.
“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”
“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed.
Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face,
“Never had a knot before?”
She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.
“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”
“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”
“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small.
Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy.
“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”
The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her.
At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.
“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven.
And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state.
“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek.
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her,
“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face.
“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate.
“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.
“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”
“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”
She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart,
“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”
“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”
“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”
“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”
“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha.
“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.
He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him.
“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it.
Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out.
“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”
“Yours, baby. All yours.”
— — — — —
The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor.
“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.
“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.
“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.
Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note.
“Wha’s that, Garrick?”
“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly.
“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes.
“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point.
Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,
“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”
#ilysm rtg!#cali answers asks#but like very slowly#call of duty fanfic#captain john price#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#john price#cod mwii#captain price#captain johnathan price#price#cod price#john price smut#john price x female oc#x fem!oc#x female oc#cod smut#by the californicationist
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First Christmas as a couple (Harry Styles one-shot)
A/N: Merry Christmas 🎄! I hope this little Harry one-shot warms your hearts this holiday season. Thank you for reading and supporting my writing—it means the world to me! Stay tuned because I’ll be sharing more festive one-shots in the coming days to keep the holiday spirit alive. Wishing you all a cozy and magical Christmas!
If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a comment, liking, or reblogging—it truly means so much and helps support my work.
Summary: Spending their first Christmas together, Harry and the reader savor quiet moments filled with warmth and laughter.
Triggers: None—this is a soft, fluffy Christmas story with no heavy content.
Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader
The snow fell softly outside the window, flakes swirling under the glow of twinkling fairy lights Harry had insisted on hanging everywhere. The small, cozy living room smelled of pine and cinnamon, the Christmas tree in the corner twinkling with mismatched ornaments. Harry was kneeling by the fire, poking at the logs with careful concentration, his pink lips pursed in focus.
“Harry, you’re going to set the whole house on fire,” you teased from the couch, wrapping your blanket tighter around you.
He turned, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, dimples deepening. “I’m a man of many talents, love, but burning down our first Christmas isn’t one of them.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at the way he said “our first Christmas,” like it was something to be cherished, something important.
Harry got up and dusted his hands off, his emerald green sweater slightly askew, revealing a sliver of his collarbone. He crossed the room and sat beside you, his arm snaking around your shoulders as he tugged you against him.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you.
“Maybe because someone made me wait outside in the snow for fifteen minutes while he picked out the perfect tree,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
“It had to be just right,” he said, faux-serious. “Our first tree should be special.”
You laughed softly, tilting your head to look at him. His curls were messy, catching the light from the fire, and his eyes seemed to glow.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “And yet, here you are,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek gently. The kiss was warm, unhurried, and it felt like everything a first Christmas kiss should feel like—comforting, sweet, and full of promise.
When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on you, soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.
“Harry,” you began, but he cut you off, reaching into his pocket.
“I wanted to give you this,” he said, pulling out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched as he handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a ring,” he said quickly, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, not yet.”
You opened the box to find a delicate gold necklace with a small charm—a tiny snowflake encrusted with a single diamond.
“Harry…”
“I saw it and thought of you,” he said softly. “Unique, beautiful… and maybe just a little too perfect for me.”
Tears pricked your eyes as you set the box down and hugged him tightly. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, now you’re stuck with me. At least until the tree comes down.”
You laughed, leaning into him as the fire crackled softly. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and bright, just as Christmas was meant to be.
#harry styles#harry#styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry’s house#one direction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#hazza styles#harry x you#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x#Christmas#fanfiction rec list#fanfiction writer#fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles masterlist#hazzashouse#love on tour#christmas fanfic#christmas fic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x oc#harry styles fluff#harry styles x original character#imagine harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles ff
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christmas eve - sirius black x fem!reader
wc: 2405
cw: pure fluff, swearing, you meet sirius' friends on Christmas eve
me: happy christmas eve chickens!!!! hope u r all staying safe and happy and enjoying the holidays!!!! xxxx
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If you had been asked in school if you would ever fancy Sirius Black, you would have said never in a million years. Sirius Black was a loud-mouthed, annoying, entitled son of a bitch. However, many years later, you would only say your boyfriend was a son of a bitch — you hated that woman.
If either of your respective groups of friends had been asked the same question, you were sure they would have given identical answers. In school you were quiet, polite and stayed under the radar. And Sirius was, well, Sirius. There was no way the two of you would ever get along.
Admittedly, you still didn’t exactly look the pair. Sirius and his dark silky hair, electric silver eyes and intimidating worn leather jacket, and you with your muted colour palette and unassuming appearance. Yet, you thought you went together pretty well. Still, you could both understand that even time and maturity didn’t make your get together more expected. In fact, you were probably the last person the marauders expected to show up to their Christmas Eve dinner.
When Christmas Eve finally came, Sirius and James were busy setting up his and Lily's dining room for the perfect holiday event. Decked in horrendous matching Christmas jumpers with terrible puns stamped across the front, each boy broke into laughter whenever they caught a glimpse of the other’s across the table as they lay down the fancy cutlery. Remus and Lily, cooking in the other room, had opted for more neutral red and green jumpers as a tribute to the season.
“Come on, mate, we’re brothers yet you’ve kept this girl hidden for months now, can’t you just tell me?” James begged, arranging the centrepieces to be spaced how he knew Lily liked.
“Patience, Prongsy, you’ll meet her soon enough. Promise you’ll be nice to her?”
“When have I not been nice?” James cried, hands up in mock offence. Sirius just shook his head, turning to arrange some pillows.
James cast him an inquisitive look, protective wasn’t usually Sirius’ style, which meant that something about you was really different. He’d been considering that for a while, and his suspicions were only confirmed with every passing day.
There were three main reasons that James thought Sirius was (for lack of a better word) serious about you. Firstly, Sirius was healthier. With the family he was born with, it wasn’t surprising that Sirius had a host of trauma and mental health issues. And though he’d tried therapy and meds a handful of times the habit had never really stuck and he’d always had a level of discomfort in his own body. Lately, though, Sirius had seemed more relaxed and in control. James wasn’t stupid, he knew that a partner couldn’t fix anyone, but he was absolutely more inclined to approve of one who made his best friend feel like himself again.
Secondly, Sirius was more private. Sirius had always had an outrageous sense of humour, uninhibited when it came to sex jokes or sharing conquests. But recently James had noticed that while Sirius still made jokes they were aimed at other people, he’d almost completely stopped talking about his own sex life. Of course, when prompted he would boast about how sexy his girlfriend was and how incredible and active your sex life was, but it was never Sirius bringing it up, or making gross comments about your body and what you could do with it.
Finally, Sirius was gentle. He’d always been charming, but the unfiltered adoration in his eyes when he spoke about you took James aback — he’d never seen it in his brother before. It was so pure and well-intentioned that James knew in his core that Sirius was head over heels and the fall was not coming to an end any time soon.
As the clock ticked by the gang all trickled in, the dining room filling with warmth and laughter. At five minutes past nine, you rang the doorbell.
“Is this the girlfriend?” Lily clapped with delight, jumping up and down with Mary.
“I’ll let her in. Play nice,” Sirius said with a stern sweep of the room, satisfied when his friends all played along, nodding solemnly.
Standing on the Potter’s doorstep you were ball of anxiety. You hadn’t seen any of the marauders — apart from your boyfriend — since you finished school, taking a muggle job. Thankfully Sirius opened the door, greeting you with his toothy smile.
“Hi, lovely,” He said, engulfing you in a bear hug. You giggled, wrapping one arm around him, the other holding up a purple umbrella.
“Hi,” You smiled back, “Sorry I’m late, all the houses look the same.”
“What are you talking about? You’re right on time.” A lie, but a kind one so you let it be. You shook the water off your umbrella before stepping inside.
Safe in a warm home you leant up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on Sirius’ lips as he slid the coat down your arms, hanging it up on a hook beside you. You were half-tempted to just stay in his arms for the rest of the night and abandon the dinner altogether, but you figured that wasn’t possible while you were inside someone else’s house. It seemed like Sirius had the same idea, pulling away with a groan.
“Come on, everyone’s waiting to meet you.” You followed him out of the entryway, calming yourself with a breath.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my girlfriend.” Sirius revealed you dramatically as you waved shyly, shifting in your small brown heels.
“Uh, hey—”
“Holy shit, it’s you?” Marlene slammed her hand on the dining table. You jumped slightly, squinting to figure out what was going on. Your mouth dropped open as you connected the dots and looked up at Sirius.
“Do they not know we’re dating? Sirius!” You scolded him, smacking him on the bicep. Sirius floundered for a moment, struggling to summon the charm that usually got him out of trouble.
“In my defence,” He preached, “Would they have believed me?”
“I would not have,” Peter put in helpfully. You laughed, putting a hand to your forehead in exasperation.
“I guess I don’t blame you. It’s nice to see you, Peter, by the way. Long time no see, I’ve heard so much about you all.” The group all shared a look, something akin to guilt growing that they hadn’t seen someone they graduated with for years.
“And we know nothing about you,” Lily said with an expectant look to Sirius, “Since your boyfriend was so insistent on keeping you hidden away from us.” Sirius just shrugged, lifting his hands in surrender.
“Oh, baby, are you ashamed of me?” You teased with a dramatic pout.
“What’s there to be ashamed of? You’re perfect.” Sirius swooped down to press a kiss on your cheek. You grinned subconsciously as Mary and Marlene mirrored your expression. Sirius had dated a lot of people but they’d never seen him be so gentle.
“Is anyone else scared of Sirius being a normal human being?” James stage whispered and the others all agreed, joking at their friend’s expense.
“Enough gossiping about me you heathens, I’m helping Lily serve up some food. Right, Lils?” Sirius made a summoning motion and Lily followed him, a small smile still on her lips. He’d chosen wisely, Lily was the least likely to tear him to shreds about his behaviour.
You sat shyly on one of the couches in the Potter’s living room, studying your nails as you tried to come up with conversation.
“So, are you working, studying?” Remus asked kindly, putting you out of your awkward misery.
“How’d you and Padfoot meet — again?”
“How’d a twat like Pads score a girl like you?”
“I’m working, I run a muggle bookshop. Sirius came in one day by chance and just kept returning until eventually we started going out.”
“Sirius reading?” Mary asked incredulously, drawing laughter from you. You nodded happily, glad to talk about your boyfriend.
“Surprising I know, but he’s been really into it over the last few months!”
“Can I just defend myself and say that I was shopping for Remus’ birthday gift the first time,” Sirius popped his head through the door, “I didn’t start reading until I wanted to get her to like me.” You shook your head with a smile, rolling your eyes playfully.
“I was going to say I couldn’t imagine Sirius perusing a book store for fun, but it makes a lot more sense when you say it’s for a girl,” Marlene teased, popping up to help Sirius bring the dishes to the dining table.
“Hey! I’m an intellectual now, you arse.” Sirius pulled out your chair for you as the group migrated to the dining table.
“Yeah, okay, Padfoot,” Remus snorted and Sirius scoffed in false annoyance before you all fell silent, devouring the meal.
You ate and shared stories for hours and you felt strangely at home among the group. At some point Sirius, sitting beside you, threw an arm over your shoulder and you cuddled into his warmth.
You loved learning about the Marauders, you only remembered fragments from school since you were never close with any of them. James being an auror made perfect sense when you remembered his amazing DADA performances, and Remus becoming a teacher was a wonderful sequel to his long tutoring sessions in seventh year. Lily expecting a baby so young had shook up their home life but the house had clearly started getting child-ready even though it was months away. Regardless, the group welcomed you warmly and you felt immediately at home.
“I just can’t believe that you of all people are together. I mean after all this time, how you both were in school… what are the odds?” Peter asked, reaching over the table to take another scoop of vegetables. You bit your lip and tried to control the heat creeping up your neck.
“I think we balance each other out,” You reasoned, “Sirius is such a… distinct character that he needs someone boring like me to bring him down.”
“You, boring? You’re the daughter that everyone wants!” Marlene laughed, sipping a red wine.
“I couldn’t function without her.” Sirius laced your fingers together, gaze heavy on you. “She reminds me to take care of myself, go to bed before three A.M., and of course, is hot and sexy as fuck.” That was the Sirius his friends all knew, but the school-era immaturity was gone. No longer was it the ladies-man Sirius Black trying to get into someone’s pants, instead, it was Sirius making a dumb joke with someone he loved.
“Sirius!” You cried, covering your face with both hands, including the one Sirius had attached to yours. Times like these you could feel the differences between you — Sirius was known for his crude humour, you would never bring up how sexy you thought Sirius was, joke or not, especially not in front of people you didn’t really know.
The night progressed with more reminiscing and storytelling, and you listened enraptured as they told story after story of pranks and parties, a life you were unaware of being led right beside you at school. You all ended up tipsy, an embarrassing stack of empty wine bottles building up at the end of the table.
As you were told was a common occurrence, the group all decided to just stay over at the Potters, pulling out mattresses and spots on the sofa with practised speed. You took the place they gave you, grateful to still be welcome.
Swaddled in blankets, Sirius was the first asleep, dead to the world in a matter of moments. For someone who stayed up half the night, he really did pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Whenever he was with you, anyway.
Someone across the room called your name in a whisper, wand faintly illuminated. You sat up to look their way, finding the rest of Sirius’ friends looking at you.
“We just wanted to say we really like you, and we’re really happy for you and Padfoot, even if we were weird at the start,”” Mary said and you couldn’t contain your grin.
“And why weren’t we friends in school? We would’ve gotten along great,” Remus added, rubbing tired eyes.
“I would have been putting a target on my own back,” You confessed, “You were all in the same house, confident in yourselves and could defend yourself against the bullies. I was alone in my house and deeply insecure. Even if we were friends I would’ve gone back to my common room at the end of the day and been vulnerable. It was easier to just be alone.”
“You thought that through.” James nodded appreciatively but you just shrugged, a fact was a fact.
The conversation moved away from you for a while, whispers and stifled giggles bouncing across the room.
“You know that Sirius is in love with you, right?” James blurted out of nowhere, slapping a hand over his mouth.
“What?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He looks at you like he’s your whole world. He raves about you all the time; how great you are, how he’s so glad he met you. He’s my brother and I know him better than he knows himself; he’s mad for you.”
You took a moment to let that sink in. You hadn’t put too much thought into whether Sirius loved you, you’d always just been happy with the way they were going.
“Oh,” You hesitated. “I hadn’t considered that. Well, um, I should probably get to sleep, I have a lot of family to see tomorrow.” It was a poor excuse, you knew, but that was a big word.
You bade the group goodnight once more before snuggling into Sirius, and he instinctually wrapped his arm around your waist. As you drifted off to sleep, the thought crossed your mind that maybe, love wasn’t so out of the picture.
#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀#the marauders#marauders#marauders era#dead gay wizards#the marauders era#sirius black#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black x reader#marauders fanfiction#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black oneshot#sirius orion black#fluff#love#harry potter#sirius black x you#christmas#christmas eve#festive#xmas#holiday season#merry christmas#holidays
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Be Mine
Jay Halstead x Reader
A casual thing with Jay turns serious when he sees someone else flirting with you.
You knew Jay’s record when it came to dating. Disastrous was a word for it, not that yours was much better but you at least stuck to dating outside of your profession because you’d seen too many relationships implode, his and Erin’s one of them. You told yourself there was no issue with you being assigned as his new partner, Jay was your friend for sure and yes he was gorgeous, you had eyes but you wouldn’t let yourself go there. You were too smart to fall for your partner.
The first week or so was easy. There was the usual adjustment period of getting used to being at each other’s side during work hours. After that passed the two of you quickly found a rhythm that worked. Within a couple months of being partnered you and Jay were to the point of a look being passed said more than words with anyone else. When the year mark passed it was like you’d always been partners.
You and him were currently in his truck watching a suspect’s residence while you waited for a patrol car to relieve you. You reached for your coffee and groaned when you realized it was empty “That was like your fifth cup” Jay laughed and you cut your eyes at him “Well if that damn patrol car would hurry up maybe I wouldn’t need as much caffeine to stay awake” “So my company isn’t stimulating enough?” he asked, as if he was offended.
You turned in the passenger seat to stare at him long enough that he raised an eyebrow “What?” you shrugged “Take your shirt off, then maybe you’ll be stimulating enough I can stay awake” his mouth fell open and you couldn’t help but laugh “What? You look good shirtless! That would keep anyone awake, just to ogle you”
He shook his head “I can’t believe you’re objectifying me like this” you grinned “Oh honey, do you want me to objectify you?” before you could blink his hand had moved from where it’d been resting on the console to slip around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he said “As soon as that damn patrol car gets here and I get you back to my apartment you can do whatever you want to me, just remember that goes both ways”
You swallowed hard at the promise, ok maybe you hadn’t been as smart as you originally had thought. You and Jay had been sleeping together for a few months. It started after a close call. Adrenaline was high, the two of you went out for a beer. You never made it into the bar. He’d met you at your truck and the moment you stepped out his lips were on yours. You’d been shocked for a moment then returned the kiss fully and when he realized that his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer with one while the other slipped down to grab a handful of your ass. When the need for air pushed you apart, chests heaving he’d gave you one of those smiles that always made your stomach flip “I’m sorry, I just had to do that” “Don’t apologize for a kiss like that Halstead, damn” you teased.
The morning after found the two of you wrapped around each other in his bed. After a bit of an awkward wakeup an agreement formed that the sex was mind blowing and your partnership and friendship was too important to risk. You’d continue to sleep together but it wouldn’t be an official thing. That way you’d have the best of both worlds. You hadn’t realized what you were agreeing to at the moment.
The longer you were in his bed, the more you fell for him but it wasn’t like you could stop now. He was worse than any addiction because you were head over heels for this one. He wasn’t just good in bed, he was protective and smarter than he gave himself credit for and such a sweetheart. Jay was just a genuinely good man for the most part. Anyone would fall for him, that was how you convinced yourself you weren’t the world’s biggest idiot.
Jay was just leaning closer to catch your lips in a quick kiss when he pulled his hand away and leaned back to his side of the truck. You shot him a questioning look then saw the patrol car. “Thank god” you muttered and he grinned “Oh really?” you glared at him “You’re not that damn good in bed Jay. I’m eager to get out of this truck”
His jaw clenched as he pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of his apartment where you’d parked your truck. Once you were clear of the patrol car his hand slipped back over the console and this time it slipped down between your thighs, when your legs fell open in response to his touch he chuckled darkly “Really looks like I’m not that good when you’re spreading your legs in my truck there darling”
You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you and muttered “Fuck you Jay” his hand slipped higher and he grinned, eyes never leaving the road “That’s the plan”
You were trying to focus on the witness you and Hailey were interviewing but the woman who was currently shoving her chest in Jay’s face about two feet to your right was grating on your nerves. When you saw her pass him a piece of paper folded up and him shove it in his pocket you felt like your head may actually catch on fire. He took her number?!?
You knew this thing between you two wasn’t official but damn you thought it was something.
“Hey, you good?” Hailey asked and you nodded “Yeah, I’m good” if Jay didn’t want you as much as you wanted him then why the hell were you letting him drag your heart through the dirt and keep you on the back burner for sex when the fact was if he’d take someone’s number, in your face, on the job he was more than likely fucking other people too.
Jay couldn’t believe the woman wouldn’t shut up until he took her number. He just hoped you hadn’t seen. He’d throw it away as soon as she turned her back. If only she knew that the gorgeous detective interviewing someone not far from him was who he spent most of his spare time with, maybe she’d back off.
He cut his eyes over where you and Hailey were moments before and saw your retreating back. Ok, maybe you two had gotten a lead? He’d see you back at the precinct. As soon as he got off he planned to ask if you wanted to grab dinner.
_______________
Two days had passed and Jay was losing his mind. He had no idea what he’d done to you but that day when he’d gotten back to the precinct you barely looked his way then offered to buy Hailey dinner as soon as all of you got off. He’d brushed it off. He didn’t have to spend all of his time with you after all.
Now he was worried it was something else. You weren’t answering any texts, barely speaking to him at work if it wasn’t directly related to whatever case you had and the look on your face when you did make eye contact with him was different. He didn’t like the way the pit in his stomach doubled in size every time. Had you found someone else? Were you freezing him out in hopes he’d end things? How the hell was he supposed to go back to just being partners?
When Friday night hit Jay overheard you telling Adam and Kim you’d see them at Mollys and decided he’d be there too. He had to see you, maybe if you weren’t at work you’d talk to him? Maybe he could fix whatever he’d done.
_______________
Jay parked his truck across the street from Mollys then walked towards the bar. His one goal was to find you. When he pushed the door open the sound of your laughter hit his ears. He looked towards the sound and the pit in his stomach turned to anger when he saw you talking with one of the firefighters that were in town for some sort of training at fifty one.
The way you were looking at the guy was the way you looked at him. You weren’t supposed to look at anyone else like that. His feet started moving without him thinking and before he realized he was in front of you, “Y/N? Can we talk?”
____________________
Nikolaus was a decent looking guy, not as good looking as Jay but not ugly. He was also sweet. You were having a decent time talking to him when you felt someone move up behind you right before Jay stepped into your line of vision “Y/N? Can we talk?”
You cut your eyes up at him and felt your heart flip. God why did he have to affect you like that? “Nik, this is my partner Jay” Nik offered his hand but Jay’s eyes never left you “Nice meeting ya but I need to talk to her” Nik cut his eyes at you, and you nodded “I’ll talk to you later”
You watched him walk away then looked back at Jay “What?” he looked from where Nik’s back had disappeared through the crowd back to you “Whatever we have right now is not enough” you knew your confusion was plain because after him taking that woman’s number you were fairly certain you didn’t have anything.
“What do you mean Jay? You don’t want to be with me. I saw you take her number” he huffed out a laugh as he rolled his eyes “If you would’ve kept watching then you would’ve saw me through it away too” “Wait, what?” you froze, eyes wide.
He nodded “I didn’t want her number. I didn’t want her. I want you but I can't have you looking at someone the way you look at me.” he shook his head “That I can’t handle so I need you to make this official. Right now. Please" you felt a smile slip onto your face "Were you...jealous?"
He slipped his arms around your waist and you registered this was a very public display of affection. "Yes. Of course I'd be jealous! You haven’t really spoken to me in days then that damn firefighter thinking he has a chance?”
Your hands went to his chest, smoothing over his shirt “So, you really want to make this official?” he grinned, pulling you in for a kiss. When he pulled away he smiled “Yeah next time some woman won’t take no for an answer can I point out my amazing girlfriend?”
You tapped your chin like you were thinking and he shook your hips playfully “Baby” you laughed then said “Yes you can say I’m yours, just as long as I can call you mine” He grinned “Deal”
#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead fanfiction#jay halstead x you#chicago pd fanfic#chicago pd fic#chicago pd fanfiction
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My Top 10 Fics Of 2024
So, I have decided that I am gonna do the same thing that I did last year because I had so much fucking fun with this last time and it's a great way to look back and reflect on all the hard work I have done this year. And I am counting these down not based on statistics - not how many likes these posts have or how 'popular' they are, but based on how much I like them, and I get to really reflect on how writing these fics made me feel. And that is truly the most important part of fanfiction - how much fun I am having. So I am really happy and excited to reflect on all the awesome stuff I have written this year.
And I think a really great sign is that I had an incredibly difficult time with this year's ranking. Because I wrote so many amazing fics that I had so much fun with. Even if I had a really (not so fun) incident where I came very close to quitting fanfiction altogether, I had a lot of fun, and I wrote a lot of amazing things that I am so fucking proud of. And I'm only including fics in this ranking that I have posted (which is why I strategically waited until after certain fics were posted to write and make this ranking) - and not even including ones I have written and not yet posted, which are also fics I absolutely fucking love. So even if this year may not have been great for my mental health or my physical health, this year was a year where I felt great and comfortable and happy as an artist.
Anyway, here's the ranking!!
This year I posted 20 different fics consisting of over 250,000 words - and that is not including the fics I have not edited and the unfinished WIPs I have in my drafts.
Also keep in mind, if you randomly see this post in tags and you don't follow me, this is my main blog and not my fanfiction blog. My fanfiction blog is @sundrop-writes - you can follow me there to check out my fics and follow me for all my exciting fanfiction adventures in 2025.
Honorable Mentions:
Meddle About - Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader (6,300 words). I was slightly conflicted about if I should put this on the list or not, because currently, this is (in terms of statistics) the most popular fic on my blog right now, and usually when a fic is super popular, I am less inclined to like it. But this list is supposed to be strictly about how I feel about my fics and the experience I had while writing them. And I did really enjoy the experience of writing this fic - it was really fun to write something absolutely kinky and filthy and to write a fic that was so truly stuck in my head. I had a lot of fun with it.
The Restricted Section - Dom!Hermione Granger x Sub!Fem!Reader x (Secret Voyeur) Harry Potter (4,400 words). This is one of my absolute favourite fics that I have written this year, and it just didn't make the top ten because other fics were more my favourite. I loved writing this because it was such a fun PWP and it was one of those instances where I had the idea and then the fic was posted like a day later. It's a lot of fun.
Tongue Twister - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!GN!Reader (2,000 words). This is one that I actually forgot that I wrote this year - it feels like so long ago lmao. But I really loved it when I wrote it, I love it now. I will always love Gar so much, and I love writing slutty fics about him.
Eager Little Puppy - Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!GN!Reader (2,700 words). This is by far one of my favourite things I have written this year - Isaac is one of my new favourite characters, and I have absolutely loved writing about him (and I look forward to writing more about him in the future). This is just a representation of how much I love him.
One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson - Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader (8,300 words). This is another one that I forgot was from this year because it feels like so long ago. I really fucking love the concept and I really, really want to continue it further in 2025 (feel free to send me messages if you are excited about it and want to see more, because I would like to set aside some specific time to work on it). Anyway - I really love the start of it and I really love what I have planned for this fic in the future.
Now, onto The Top Ten:
10. Precious Time Alone (aka The Knot Fic) - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader (11,800 words)
Even with the ability to see the future, you never would have guessed that your life would lead you to falling in love with the perfect man - someone sweet, caring, funny, cute. Someone with the passion and fire to protect the ones that he loves no matter what. A precious guy with green hair who had the ability to transform into a tiger at will. And when you finally made love to him for the first time, you never could have guessed how that unique ability affected his sex life. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you wished you had seen this coming. At the end of the day, it was just another thing about him to love. Or - Neither you nor Gar knew that he has the ability to knot, and you both find out for the first time when you have sex together. Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.
It's such an interesting coincidence that both this year and last year, the number ten slot contains a Gar fic that is a re-make/re-post. I have a lot of fics that are only on AO3 and not on Tumblr, and I highly recommend that you check out my AO3 for that reason, but if I am transferring a fic from AO3 to Tumblr, I love to go through and do some edits on it and see how I can improve it before I post it again.
I absolutely loved this fic when I first posted it, and I love it even more with the edits - including the new scene that I added. It is such a fun idea that could be considered Crack Fic (so often, I write Crack Fic concepts but I treat them seriously) - the idea that Gar has a Knot because he is 'an animal' (or because he has animal DNA). It's such a funny idea, but it was fun and hot to write porn about it.
I love this fic, and if it is your thing and you would enjoy reading it, I hope that you enjoy it too.
9. The Way You Miss Me - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (18,500 words)
Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn’t need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled. And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred’s strength and determination. So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he’s the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he’s looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would? Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.
This fic is one of the reasons that the ranking was so difficult. This one got moved around a lot because I had so much fun writing it and working on it. I am also super proud of this fic because originally, the idea was going to be part of a much longer fic, and I am so glad that I was able to pull off the emotions and the tone that I wanted in a much shorter word count that took me a lot less time. It makes me incredibly proud of myself - that I don't feel like I have to spend months and months on an idea in order to truly pull it off.
I fucking love this fic and I am so happy with how it turned out.
8. Why Am I The One? - Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader (15,200 words)
Isaac loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long. But when Derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. He could claim that he sought you out because you’re close by, because he knows that you won’t turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it’s because he misses you. And staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done. Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4.
Again, this is one that made the ranking very hard. I enjoyed the process of writing this so fucking much. I was immediately inspired when I saw the episode, and as soon as I saw it, I started working on this fic - the imagery of Isaac so slutty in his white shirt sparks the temptation to write smut, but I love the emotional depth of him being a literal kicked puppy (after being kicked out by Derek) and being emotionally vulnerable and needing some place to go and someone to turn to. It is literally a perfect recipe for the kind of smut I write - super hot sex with emotional depth because one of the characters is feeling vulnerable. It's perfect.
This fic is exactly what I wanted it to be when I set out to write it, and I especially loved exploring Isaac's grief for Erica (which is by far not explored enough in the show) and I might do a continuation of it in the future, I'm not sure. Either way, I think it's fantastic, and it definitely deserves a spot on this list.
7. She Keeps Me Up - Dom!MILF!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader (3,100 words)
JJ is protective of you. When you offer yourself up as ‘bait’ to lure in an UnSub who is killing women of your type, she protests endlessly about it - but ultimately she can’t stop you. She can, however, possessively lay her claim on you when you get back from the ordeal with nothing more than a tiny scratch. Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.
Like I said, this list is all about reflecting, and I was considering wiping all Criminal Minds fics off this list because of the experience that I had - but that wouldn't be fair to my past self or fair to my art. Especially because this is one of my favourite fics I have ever written and whenever I listen to the song that I titled it for, I still have incredibly fond memories of writing this fic.
I think that MILF!JJ is my favourite version of JJ, even though - ironically - I haven't seen a lot of the later seasons. But way too many people obsess over Professor Reid and Grey Haired Prentiss (who I also love, don't get me wrong) - but I think there is not enough love for MILF!JJ. Not by far. I want to be her controversially younger girlfriend.
I actually have something in my drafts that is MILF!JJ centric, and if I finished it, it would be the only thing that could get me to stray back into the Criminal Minds fandom. I am so down bad for JJ, it's not even funny. (So - if you wanna see more of her, feel free to come in my inbox and let me know.)
6. Blood In The Water - Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader (11,700 words)
Being Stiles’s best friend, you are incredibly worried about him when you figure out that he is quite literally not himself - and that the thing currently occupying his body could be destroying it in the process. When you approach him to show this concern, Void takes a particular interest in you. He’s not capable of love, or even fondness, but he likes you. And he likes the way your fear spikes when you talk about Stiles. So he makes you a deal - he’ll agree to take care of this fleshy, mortal host, in exchange for something more precious, more rare, and more delicious than the meal you have brought for Stiles. He wants your pain. He wants your tears. Void!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Extreme Emotional Angst, Hurt No Comfort. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1, Episode 11).
Another one that made the ranking so hard. This fic was so much fun to write, because as I said in the A/N for it - I fucking love writing villains. I love writing characters who are absolutely unambiguously evil. I do think it's a big of a shame that the recent cultural shift is to write villains as morally ambiguous or to take characters who are evil (or morally grey shifting more towards 'bad' in the canon) and soften them up so much in fanfiction to make it seem like they did nothing wrong.
A lot of people write Void as one of those "he is bad but he won't hurt me because he loves me uwu" characters and I really don't like that - because I want to write him as a character who is absolutely fucking incapable of love. He does not know love, he doesn't know what it is, and he has absolutely no softness or fondness for any person.
I really want to write a sequel to this fic - I have one drafted out that I think would be so fucking good - and I think I want to make it one of my goals for 2025 to complete and post the sequel. Anyway, just this fic as it is, I fucking love it, and I had such a fantastic time writing it.
5. Downhill - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (20,100 words)
Draco knows his place in the world. He is a Malfoy, he is Pureblood. He is supposed to marry, carry on the Pureblood line. He is supposed to do everything that his parents would - including killing, if it’s what his Dark Lord wishes. Draco Malfoy is not supposed to hesitate. He is not supposed to feel fear. He is not supposed to have room in his heart for fondness, or even love. Not even when it comes to his bartered and bought fellow Pureblood fiancee. Love is nothing but a weakness. And Malfoys are not weak. Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage/Hesitant Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Half-Blood Prince.
This is one of the fics that caused me to strategically wait to make and post this whole list lmao. And I am glad that I actually got this fic posted when I wanted to, and I'm glad that I waited. I have had this fic brewing in my drafts for a long time, and I have had the general idea for it in my head for a lot longer. I've actually had the idea in my head for longer than the original fic existed (the fic that this is a prequel to) and when I figured out that I could utilise my idea here, I was so excited.
I love writing about the real consequences of Draco being a Death Eater and I fucking love writing the Arranged Marriage trope, and this was all my favourite things to write about rolled up into one. And I also loved writing the inclusion of Harry having a very shallow one-sided crush on the reader when she is too busy actually falling in love with Draco to notice. This was incredibly fun for me to write and I absolutely love how it turned out - so it is by far one of my favourite fics I have written this year.
4. Figure It Out - A Criminal Minds Casefic (18,000 words)
Since you joined the BAU, you have been keeping a terrible secret from the team. When the team takes a case in your hometown - your festering secret comes to be known with a vengeance. Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Criminal Minds Season 3.
I feel like this list would be incomplete if I did not include the fic I obsessed over as my first fic of the year. This fic really did a lot for me as an artist - for so long I have been wanting to write something with a similar concept to the music video for Figure It Out by Royal Blood (something where the story essentially goes in reverse and more details are revealed along the way, constantly changing who you believe is the villain vs who is the victim). The first time I saw that music video, it changed me and I have been so radically inspired by it ever since.
And because this idea has been sitting in my head for literal years, I am so fucking proud that I managed to do it justice. And I do think that Criminal Minds is the perfect backdrop to do this kind of idea with, and I think that this is actually a kind of radical artistic episode that they might actually do.
I would also love to use this format for other fandoms (I think it would work so well for The Walking Dead especially, and you guys know that I want to apply everything I do to Titans) - so I am so glad that I wrote this fic and gained confidence in writing something with an usual format and that I just got to have fun with it.
3. When Doves Cry - Jason Todd x Gar Logan (11,100 words)
At Dick’s insistence, Jason comes back to Wayne Manor to help the Titans end Crane’s deadly plan. Jason doesn’t want redemption or forgiveness - he’s done believing that he’s worthy of those. Once Crane is back at Arkham where he belongs, Jason plans to disappear, never to be heard from again. But Gar - someone who never stopped loving Jason and never stopped believing in his goodness - has other plans. Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 13.
This fic is absolutely so fucking special to me. This is actually one of my only fics that has a dedication, even though most of my romance based fics should be dedicated to @nctzenkane - because he is the love of my life and he inspires most of my romance based fics in one way or another.
I wrote this fic at a time when I was really struggling as an artist. If you have been following me all year, then you will likely know about an incident where I spent months writing a longer fic, and that fic garnered some complaints and hate comments, and when I spoke up with my distaste for those comments - I was basically told to shut up, and I was told that fanfic readers have a right to be rude and treat fic authors like shit the second that we post our work to the 'public'.
And it really demotivated me and the whole incident really made me thoroughly consider quitting writing altogether, especially considering the fact that my chronic illness is getting worse each year and every single time I successfully post a fic, more and more work has gone into that fic behind the scenes (past my illness) in order to make that fic 'visible to the public'.
All of this to say that I was feeling down, disappointed and lost, and I asked Jaycen what to do - what I should write to truly make myself feel confident and good in my art again. I asked him to request something because I needed some inspiration and some artistic direction. And he requested this fic - because he usually only enjoys romances between canon character pairings (and he loves JayGar because I majorly fed him the juice on that) and he knows that Titans is my strong suit.
The fic is also incredibly special to me because the song is also incredibly special - even though I fucking love 80s music, I didn't really listen to Prince until Jaycen encouraged me to, and when I listened to this song for the first time, it really wormed its way in as one of my all time favourite songs. And it suits these characters and their dynamic so well in addition to being such a beautifully personal song to me.
So yeah - this fic is gonna go down in history as one of my top five favourite fics of all time, not just from this year. And it definitely made the ranking a lot harder.
2. Heaven's Gate - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader (24,200 words)
Hope. Not the fragile, delicate thing that everyone mistakes it to be. Hope is stubborn, and grows inside of you long before you ever realize its purpose there. Hope can’t be crushed by a thousand pound tank or torn apart as easily as concrete walls can. Hope is balanced on the backs of songbirds, it whistles quietly in the wind, and it brings you right where you need to be (even if you don’t know it). Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff. Set during Seasons 1-5.
This is another fic that is so fucking special to me, and that's why it's so close to the top of the ranking. I have had this idea in mind for years probably - I fucking love the concept of any fic that involves reunions when it comes to The Walking Dead (and I could write 10,000 more fics based on this concept) because every single moment of reunion in the show just fucking gets me. Even though I don't really like Rick and Lori's relationship (and I love Lori, don't mistake me as a Lori hater - never), the moment where Rick gets out of the cube van and reunites with Carl and Lori for the first time in the first season - it gives me goosebumps every single time without fail.
So I simply aim to recreate that feeling with my fics.
Also - the bird symbolism. When I lived at my old place, I had a bird feeder right outside my window, and I used to do a lot of bird watching. And I became familiar with certain bird species and the rarity of certain types of birds, and there is just something hopeful that ignites within you when you see a particularly rare bird - and it is a myth I have heard that cardinals represent good luck (likely because of their rarity) when you see them.
And I love how the whole fic evolved to represent hope, which I think is something we all need more of in our lives. During this year of existential dread and sadness, it felt really good to write something that was purely about happiness and hope.
1. The Jaws of Life - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (19,900 words)
You and Jason don’t really hate each other - at least not anymore. Your feelings for each other are more than complicated, and before you have time to figure it all out, you have to part ways. Jason goes back to Gotham at Bruce’s behest, and you’re off to visit a long lost relative that you didn’t even know cared about you. Unfortunately, while you’re apart, the Joker makes things even more complicated with a phone call and a gun. And your world comes crashing down before you can even put names to all the stars in your sky. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Friends With Benefits to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Smut, Extreme Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 3.
Here is the big number one! I am giving this one the top spot even though it's incomplete (and I am kind of biased because in my head, I am including how amazing stuff from the second part is) - and maybe it's just an excuse to include such an amazing fic in two different 'Top 10 Fics of The Year' posts lmao. Because when I post the second part in January, technically it will count for next year too.
But anyway - I love this fic so fucking much. This fic has been so long in the making, and I love every single aspect of it - the emotions, the metaphors, the length. This is one of those fics that is perfect to me because it came out exactly how I wanted it to be in my head. I am so utterly proud of this fic, and I am so glad that people are getting to read it now, even if it is just the first part.
Anyway - that's all for this year, and I am sooo looking forward to seeing what I can come up with next year.
#sundrop speaks#fanfiction#gar logan x reader#dc titans fanfiction#fred weasley x reader#harry potter fanfiction#isaac lahey x reader#teen wolf fanfiction#jennifer jareau x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#stiles stilinski x reader#void!stiles x reader#draco malfoy x reader#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#jason todd x reader
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i recently picked up want, collected by gillian anderson, at the bookstore. it’s a collection of anonymous letters from women and genderqueer people from all over the world—letters describing in full (and quite beautiful) detail their most secret sexual fantasies.
and i have a lot of thoughts about it—mainly about my own emotional reaction to it. when i read what these strangers think about, what they lust after and desire without telling a soul, i feel a mixture of joy and shock, sadness and pride, fascination and admiration, horniness and humor.
there are letters from women stuck in loveless marriages, who use fantasy to escape. from women who’ve always wanted to experiment but never had the courage, from women who live in circumstances that make it impossible to be themselves. from women who wish their husbands were dead. from women who want to be punished by their bosses, or be dominated by strangers on a train, or have sex with themselves. from women who are in wheelchairs. from women who want to be eaten. the one that sticks with me the most is the woman who wrote, “i fantasize about my husband doing the dishes.”
it’s an obscene book full of obscene secret desires. it’s a celebration of the fact that everyone is a pervert. that women are perverts. that actually, to be perverted—to have lusts that your partner, your friends, and the world at large might deem shameful or wrong or outright disgusting—is really just to be human.
i’ve read a lot of erotica in my life. i wouldn’t consider myself easily shocked. in fact, i’m secretly as kinky as many of the letter writers in the book. i’m a sexual person and always have been.
but i have always felt alone in that. turns out, i am very, very, very much not alone.
if more of us felt free to be ourselves, even the dirtiest and most obscene versions of ourselves that we only allow to emerge in our heads…and if fewer of us judged others for that? well.
reading want makes me feel free.
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Hi
Could you write about living with everyone's favorite wolf guy (Von Lycaon x f!Reader)? I feel like waking up next to him or completing household work together would be so sweet/cute >\\\\< Please and thank you!
Here's to hoping you will pull him soon!!!! Don't give up <3
You understand me, I JUST WANT TO HAVE THOSE SWEET MOMENTS WITH HIM. I stuck with the waking up together idea because god the want to be in his arms is IMMENSE. Also I combined this with another who wanted a wife reader!
Edit after writing: This ended up so much shorter than what I wanted, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t figure out how to keep it going without it feeling too fillery
Warnings: none I think? Possible suggestiveness but the implications are super subtle imo
Waking up in the morning was one of your favorite times of the day. Even when the sun began to almost turn your sight red as it hit your face, or when you felt the small prickles of a cramp from sleeping in a somewhat awkward position. Yes, even with these, seeing the sleeping face of the thiren before you is what always made it worth it.
You smiled as you felt his tail wrapped around your legs, surrounding you in fluffy warmth. A habit your husband had picked up since you first began to sleep in the same bed as him all those many years ago. The small puffs of his breath could be felt on the very top of your head, adding more to the constant realization you’ll always have of just how much bigger he is compared to you. But that never made you scared of him, in fact the wolf thiren was very adamant on making sure you only felt safe around him.
You could see his ear twitch, alert to any noises that would require him to wake up. It was another habit your husband had picked up, from a time before you as far as you were aware. He wasn’t secretive about his past to you, though you never pushed him to tell you everything, something you knew he appreciated.
You could feel your smile widened as you attempted to quietly sneak out of the male’s arms, gently pushing his arms off of you. Though you knew it was futile once his hold only tightened around you, a soft grumble escaping from the wolf. Alerting you he was already awake, like he typically was.
“Love, you know we both have work.” You softly chided, suppressing any laughs as he only tiredly grumbled again in response. As uncharacteristic many would say, Lycaon wasn’t actually much of a morning person. But because of the job he has, it sadly forced him to adopt an early morning routine. Though you couldn’t say much, since your own job had you suffer the same thing.
He let out a tired growl like noise, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You almost wanted to coo at him over how cute he was being, but you refrained from doing so to keep him from grumbling even more. Your hands began to skillfully brush through his fur, stroking near his ears in a gentle fashion. As you did so you could feel his hold relax, making you smile as your coaxing for him to move starts working. The light pat pat from his tail hitting your legs softly could be slightly heard under his increasing grumbling. But you knew you won when he slowly detached from you, though he still gave your cheek a nuzzle before he fully sat up.
The sight in front of you was something you saw every morning, but you couldn’t help but be in awe every time you saw the early morning light hit the thiren just right. The way his fur was both messy yet still gave a sense of pristine cleanliness even with some tufts being misplaced. Or the way even with the thicker fur, since it was beginning to become cold in the city, you could still see the powerful muscles move as he stretched and moved around the room. Which signaled you to start getting up, stretching out your own sore muscles and brushing your messed up hair into an easier to manage lump.
When you finally walked over to the bathroom to do your morning routine, your husband had already finished dressing into his uniform and brushed out his fur. The faint sounds of him working in the kitchen could be heard as you walked out your room dressed as well, smiling to see the typical quick yet nutritious breakfast the wolf thiren was always insistent on making for you even when you insistent on cooking for you both. GIving him a quick kiss on his cheek in gratitude, you quickly ate your food and sipped on your freshly brewed coffee. As the man insisted on using the very expensive espresso machine he had gotten to satisfy your caffeine needs, though he never used it for himself as he preferred tea.
After a few moments of packing essentials and basking in the quiet moments before it was time for the both of you to leave, you followed Lycaon to the door of your home. Just before he could leave, you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed onto his waist tightly, earning an affectionate chuckle in response as he reciprocated the hug.
“I’ll be home at the usual time, Love.” He spoke, closing his eyes in content as you cupped his face. Even if it forced him to almost bend down halfway to let you do so, he always loved to let you hold his face like it was your world.
“Okay, be safe.”
“I always will.” At those words you pull him closer, pressing your lips gently against his for what you wished could be for hours. But it was only for a few moments. Once he pulls away you hug him once more and watch him gently close the door and lock it behind him. After a few moments you let out a sigh, choosing to ignore the dull feeling in your chest over how easy you missed your partner. Taking ina breath, you decided to head to your office and set to work.
Even though you worked from home most of the time, you always insisted on waking up and getting ready along with him. Because you could never forgive yourself if you missed those gentle and sweet moments with him, seeing him in a light that he only let you see. As the image of the male’s grumpy face surfaces into your mind, you smile.
Yeah, mornings were your favorite time of day.
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Runes and Ruin Part 4
An Arcane G/T Fic
Notes: Here's my christmas gift to the gt people I hope you enjoy jayvik angst and hurt/comfort time featuring Jayce taking tiny viktor to a gala event >:]
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After the day of the apology, the one Viktor had thought would never come, Jayce had gotten far more touchy with Viktor. It had started with that afternoon, Viktor asleep against his chest with a large warm hand pressing into him like a weighted blanket, not moving until Jayce had to get up to cook. It was nice while it lasted, the touch Viktor had always craved but could never ask for, but he knew it was likely a one time thing…
But then it continued on into the next day…and the next day, until the moments where Jayce wasn’t touching him in one way or another started to become few and far between.
When they were together it was almost like Jayce was a magnet, constantly drawn to Viktor’s presence, the Earth in constant orbit of the Sun, his hands itching to touch him whenever he was close, like it hurt to not be in contact. He’d always been a touchy person, Viktor knew that- it was impossible to avoid when they had spent so many years in the lab together. But this was new…and Viktor was sure it was going to kill him.
They had been working for a few hours already, Viktor nestled against the side of Jayce’s neck so he could better see the work desk. They had tried so many rune combinations by that point, entire pages in Jayce’s notebook filled with possibilities that never came to fruition.
Jayce huffed, brows furrowed in equal parts curiosity and frustration as another plant turned to dust on the table in front of them with a shock of blue light.
“Alright, so not that one,” Jayce sighed, as he crossed out the rune combination in their notes, his hand pressing with just enough force to smudge the ink at the end.
“At this rate I’ll be stuck like this forever,” Viktor scoffed, raising his brows at Jayce even though he knew the man couldn’t actually see him.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jayce responded, voice gruff and harsh, “If it can shrink you it has to be able to change you back, right?”
Viktor couldn’t help the frown that tugged at his lips, “I surely hope so.”
“It will.”
And really, who was Viktor to argue when he wanted it just as much…even if the consistent failures were starting to weigh down on him.
Before he could reply with some snarky comment, Jayce’s hand was on him, fingers wrapping around his body carefully, in a way that was becoming too practiced for Viktor’s liking. His whole world shifted as Jayce picked him up like he was nothing more than a tool, and it took everything in Viktor to not snap at the man for not giving him a warning first. But at the same time, the all-encompassing warmth of his forge-worn fingers felt nice, like a sweater on a cold day- although he’d never tell him that.
When he was finally placed down onto the desk, Jayce at least had half the mind to look apologetic.
“What?” Viktor snapped, face red as his head tilted up as far as it could to get a better look at Jayce.
“I…sorry,” Jayce’s eyes widened, “It’s almost six.”
At that, Viktor paused, he had almost forgotten about what Jayce had said that morning.
“There’s a gala tonight that I can’t get out of,” Jayce had said, head tilted back against the pillows with his thumb idly rubbing up and down against Viktor’s back, his tiny form resting snuggly on his chest.
Viktor had been half-asleep, body fighting to stay conscious under the warm weight of Jayce’s hand. The only response he could manage was a small tilt of his head.
“I was hoping maybe you’d come with me,” Jayce had said, voice tilting up hopefully.
And Viktor could remember his amusement- he knew Jayce wanted to keep him nearby while he was so small. He had asked before about coming to meetings, but Viktor’s response had always been a resounding no. It was almost endearing how Jayce kept asking, regardless of Viktor’s consistent and firm refusals.
The only problem was that Viktor couldn't remember saying no this time. Maybe it was the gentle warmth of Jayce’s touch or the promise that he’d get to spend more time close to the man he was weak for, but he was sure in the early hours of morning he hadn’t told Jayce no.
“Oh yes,” Viktor said, mouth running dry, “The gala.”
“Yeah. They wouldn’t believe I was sick again,” Jayce laughed, a soft deep sound that Viktor could practically feel in his chest, “But the new suit I got has a few pockets you should be okay in.”
And how could Viktor argue when Jayce looked at him with so much hope, his eyes wide and pleading for Viktor to stay with him.
“That should be fine,” Viktor shrugged, ignoring the way his heart pounded at the idea of being so close to Jayce for so long, “Just don’t intend to stay too long. I can’t promise I won’t start biting after an hour.”
“Only an hour?” Jayce laughed.
“Perhaps I can make it longer if we get to the lab early tomorrow,” Viktor sighed.
The grin he got from Jayce, wide and crooked and showing off the gap in his teeth, almost made the whole thing worth it.
“Deal.”
And that was how Viktor had gotten himself dragged to a gala- something he had never wanted to do even before the accident. The extravagant parties Piltover’s elite held were never his thing. He hated all the schmoozing and pointless talk that came of them, and while he knew they needed money, he was more than happy to let Jayce go alone. He always was the more charming of the two of them anyways.
Viktor was tucked securely in one of the side pockets of Jayce’s suit. The silky maroon fabric was warmed by Jayce’s body heat, making the small space feel nice and comforting, and like a cat, Viktor leaned into it. He couldn’t help how he instinctively pressed himself against the sturdy warmth of his partner. It was amusing to Viktor how even in the winter Jayce still ran hot, just like the forges his family was known for. And with how cold it was outside, Viktor was more than grateful for it.
While he couldn’t see out from his spot in Jayce’s pocket, he knew they had arrived at the gala when the silence of night in Piltover morphed into a loud cacophony of sound- voices and instruments and the shuffling of people- all overwhelmingly loud to his now extra sensitive ears.
Within seconds a heavy weight pressed against him almost like Jayce knew what he was thinking, and while he couldn’t respond (and he knew Jayce would push him back if he tried to look out) he was grateful for the touch. It grounded him, stopping his thoughts from wandering too far.
It didn’t take long at all before Jayce was swept away by possible investors; Viktor could feel his deep charming voice vibrating throughout his whole body. He could tell Jayce had had a few too many glasses of champagne when his steps became more uneven, jostling Viktor around in his pocket. Still, every few minutes a hand would press into him- a gentle reminder that Jayce still remembered he was there as he chatted with Piltover’s most elite.
“Jayce, it is very good to see you in attendance again,” Counselor Medarda’s voice boomed above him- the soft lilt of her voice all too familiar.
Even the soft touches did not help with the jealousy growing in Viktor’s gut, curling and venomous like a snake about to snap its jaws.
Viktor could practically feel his skin prickle.
“Mel,” Jayce said, voice soft and happier than he had heard it in a while, “It’s good to be back. I’m sorry I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
“Well I’m sure I speak for everybody when I say we’re glad to have you back in the spotlight,” Mel replied, and Viktor could practically feel how Jayce preened at her words. “It’s far less fun at these events without the golden boy.”
Jayce chuckled, small and tight, and that made the jealous part of Viktor beam. At least he could get real laughter out of Jayce.
“I’m sure,” Jayce replied, and Viktor could imagine the tight smile on his face, “Although I can’t say I miss watching Salo falling over himself after three drinks.”
In return, Mel laughed, the sound soft like bells, and Viktor retreated into the corner of Jayce’s pocket. Maybe if he could fall asleep he could ignore their conversation and in turn stop the bubbling jealousy in his chest. As petty as it was, he wanted nothing more than to pull Jayce away. He’d gotten so used to being the center of his attention that he had almost forgotten why they had drifted apart in the first place. He didn’t realize that Jayce hadn’t laid a hand on him in a while until someone came crashing into them.
Viktor huffed, body squishing against Jayce’s side as he heard a yelp and a muttered apology from someone likely a little too drunk. Over the sounds of the orchestra picking up, Viktor could just barely make out the conversation between Jayce and whoever had bumbled into him. Ever the gentleman, he heard Jayce asking if the man needed any help finding a seat.
Viktor didn’t have any more time to ponder the situation though before he realized that something was wrong- he felt cold.
Jayce had made sure Viktor would be comfortable in his pocket beforehand, and the silk fabric combined with the man’s body heat had been more than enough for Viktor to feel alright while at the gala. But then, right across from Viktor, he saw a gap where the threads of Jayce’s suit had been torn apart- likely ripped during the ordeal with the drunkard. The cool air from the gala blew in, making Viktor curl up further into the far side of the pocket, trying his best to stay far away from the ripped seam.
Above him Jayce’s voice boomed, and with every step Viktor was shook closer and closer to the hole. Frantically, Viktor tapped at Jayce’s side, hoping to get the man’s attention, but he received no response. All he could hear was the sound of laughter and the hushed conversation between Jayce and Mel. For the first time since the incident he truly felt small.
A moment later Jayce turned, just a bit too fast, and Viktor felt himself slip, the satin hard for him to get a good grip on. For a moment he was sure he was going to throw up.
“Jayce!” He yelled, hoping more than anything that Jayce would notice, but still there was no response- his pleas drowned out by the thrum of the gala.
Viktor barely processed Mel asking for a dance, his mind completely focused on holding on tight to the smooth fabric around him. But one more quick shift from Jayce as he took Mel’s hand was all it took.
Viktor yelped, arms covering his head as he slipped through the gap in the seams. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as his body met the cool air. Like a scared child he curled in on himself, but nothing could stop the quickly approaching tile of the gala hall. Seconds before hitting the ground he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that anyone, anything, would help him, but it was to no avail.
He hit the ground with nothing more than a soft thud to anyone listening. Pain shot through his leg, but the fire in his joints was nothing compared to the pure terror coursing through his veins. Adrenaline pumped through him as he stared up at the hundreds of people around him- all towering over him like mountain peaks- their voices loud and mangled together sounding like thunder to Viktor’s ears.
At the very least he could still see Jayce, although as one of his massive boots came down within steps of Viktor he felt his blood run cold. With each footstep, the massive people around him sent tremors into the ground making it difficult for Viktor to stay upright. Internally, he battled between wanting to stay close to Jayce- wanting nothing more than for the man to notice, pick him up, and take him back to his apartment where it was safe- and wanting to find somewhere hidden where no one would ever find him again.
But Viktor didn’t have much time to think before Mel’s shoe stamped down right next to him. The elegant wooden heel towered above him, and as she moved again he had to throw himself out of the way, rolling onto his side and causing more pain to shoot through his joints. Within moments, where he had been was covered by her shoe, and the thought of turning up on the bottom of it- nothing more than a smudge- made him feel sick.
He had to get away.
His blood pounded beneath his skin like a drum, the thump thump of his heart even louder than the musicians who were still playing regardless of the nightmare he was stuck in. It hurt, his leg felt like it was on fire from the fall, but he was alive and he planned on keeping it that way.
The familiar prick of tears stung his eyes as he took one last look up at Jayce, slightly wobbly from the alcohol and smiling wide as he talked with Mel. He wouldn’t cry though, he refused. Realistically, he knew this was happening whenever Jayce went to the galas, of course he did. He saw how the man looked at Mel. He knew he couldn’t compare even if the closeness of the past few weeks had started to convince him otherwise.
He had to go.
Viktor’s face scrunched up in pain as he trudged his way to the nearest sign of safety- the large gilded dining table near the center of the room. His eyes moved constantly darting back and forth between every single person in the room- calculating his chances of getting stomped on at any given moment. Luckily, he’d fallen where most people had decided to dance, meaning their movements were slow, predictable.
Even so, there were quite a few near misses, with him having to throw himself out of the way before finely polished boots smashed down on top of him like he was nothing more than a pest. By the time he got to the table, he was out of breath, his heart jackhammering in his chest. Even though he had really only covered what would have been a few steps at his normal size, his muscles seized like he had ran a marathon.
With a shaky breath he settled down against the leg of the table. From where he was he could still feel the tremors of every step as people passed by. The sight in and of itself was horrifying. He had gotten so used to being around Jayce that he had almost started to forget how terrifying it was to be so insignificantly small. In the first few moments, when Jayce had first found him after the incident, he’d felt horrified, and at that moment, sitting still under the table, praying that no one would notice him, he felt that same all-encompassing terror.
——————————————————————— Jayce was sure he was going to throw up, and he told Mel as such right before darting to the edge of the room. His hands checked his pockets for the tenth - hundredth - thousandth time, hoping that maybe he’d just missed him somehow, that maybe Viktor was still there. But it was to no avail, and to his own growing horror he only found a small gap in his pocket, the seams ripped apart.
Frantically, he checked his shoes to make sure nothing (or more correctly, no one) was stuck to the bottom, and even though he was sure he was getting some odd looks from the other attendees his mind could only think of one thing. He had to find Viktor.
He’d realized something was wrong after agreeing to dance with Mel. He’d felt awful for not attending a gala in so long since he knew she looked forward to him being there. Really, a dance was the least he could offer. But afterwards, when he’d reached down again to reassure Viktor that he still remembered he was there, he felt nothing, no bump in the fabric, no movement, nothing.
The horror must have been clear on his face considering how Mel immediately asked if he was alright, her concern clear from the softening of her face. But how could he be when his partner was somewhere in the gala hall on his own, small enough to be squished by one wrong step. Gods, Jayce was going to be sick.
He was sure he looked crazed to anyone passing by, eyes wide and panicked as they scanned the floor, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He could make it up to any possible investors once he was sure Viktor was safe, which he was, he had to be.
Once he was absolutely sure nothing on his shoes was his partner he took a deep breath. He had to stay calm. He recalled one night years prior when he and Viktor were working on their initial proposal for the Hexgates, only a few days before their deadline. At the time Jayce had been panicking, and the calculations he was working on were filled with mistakes. He remembered how Viktor took one look at the scrawled numbers before forcing him to sit and talk it through with him. He had told him then that nothing good came of such stress; that Jayce always worked better with a clear mind.
He struggled to keep a clear mind now.
But still, Jayce persisted. With his one goal in mind he marched back out into the thrall of people, his eyes glued to the floor for any sign of his partner. A few of the partygoers tried to stop him, to talk about Hextech or whatever new policies they wanted from the council, but with dry lips and weak words, Jayce excused himself every time. He didn’t miss how their eyes would flash with disappointment, but he could worry about that later. When he arrived back at the center of the room his search truly started. He was sure that he was around there when he’d last checked on Viktor.
“Jayce, are you sure you’re alright?”
His head whipped towards the source of the question, only to be met by Mel, her face scrutinizing and worried.
“Yes I…” Jayce struggled to find his words through his panic- his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, “I dropped something.”
“Oh,” Mel tilted her head, amusement clear in her eyes, “Well, do you want help looking for it?”
The response he wanted to give was a yes; his immediate knee-jerk reaction was to spill everything to her. He trusted her- she could help. But the thought of what Viktor’s reaction would be to finding out someone else knew…Jayce couldn’t do it. He knew he’d been walking a thin line with Viktor for months, maybe even years, and they’d only just started to grow close again. He couldn’t risk his trust.
And that wasn’t even to mention the trouble they’d get into if anyone found out about what the Hexcore was capable of. Hextech was his connection to Viktor, he couldn’t risk that.
“No, I…I can find it,” Jayce muttered, his mouth a tight line as he waved off her offer, “Thank you.”
Mel’s brows furrowed, her eyes studying Jayce for a few moments before she gave in. He could tell she wanted to say more, to pry further, but within seconds she was being pulled away by another partygoer off into some other conversation.
Yet, as minutes passed and there was still no sign of Viktor, Jayce started to regret not taking her offer, even if Viktor would never forgive him for telling someone else about his situation. Every second without Viktor made his heart sink in his chest like lead. Time felt like a blur as he searched, frantic as he scanned the ground.
It wasn’t long before another feeling, heavy and all consuming filled his chest- guilt. Viktor hadn’t even wanted to join him at the gala; he knew that. He’d given Viktor the choice, but still, he knew Viktor only came because of him. And now Viktor was in danger…or worse…because of it.
His thoughts muddled together until they only consisted of one thing- find Viktor, find Viktor, please find Viktor.
Most attendees had already left before he finally spotted him, and the moment he did, he swore his heart stopped beating, his blood frozen in his veins. His partner’s tiny form was curled up against one of the legs of the dining table. He was still- too still for Jayce’s liking- but he was thankfully whole.
He didn’t think twice before leaning down and snatching him up in his hands. Immediately, Viktor thrashed against his hold; he’d likely been asleep, but Jayce couldn’t bring himself to feel bad when he was so simply overjoyed that Viktor was alive.
Jayce didn’t say his goodbyes before rushing to the building’s exit. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mel watching him like a hawk, but he would worry about that later. The cold winter air hit him like a brick the moment he got outside, but the discomfort of it was barely a whisper in the back of his mind. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was nearby before he opened up his hands to really look at Viktor for the first time since he found him.
“Vik, shit, are you okay?”
In his hands, Viktor looked stunned, eyes wide and body stiff as he stared up at Jayce. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water before his whole face tightened- his expression guarded.
“I… I just want to go home Jayce,” Viktor exhaled shakily, voice so quiet Jayce could barely hear it over the distant sounds of the city.
“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” Jayce panicked, voice wobbling with emotion, “I was trying to find you I promise I-”
“Jayce,” Viktor stopped him, his tone firm, “Please just…I just want to sleep.”
Jayce’s mouth flew shut as his thoughts raced. Thousands of apologies simmered behind his closed lips, but the look of defeat on Viktor’s face stopped them from boiling over.
“Yeah…yeah,” Jayce frowned, “We can go back to the apartment.”
Viktor nodded, still curled in on himself like he had been when Jayce had spotted him, and the uncomfortable silence and haunted look on his partner’s face was almost enough to finally break Jayce.
The walk back to his apartment was quiet and tense. Jayce held Viktor to his chest the entire way, uncaring of how odd it looked to anyone who could see him; he needed to feel that Viktor was okay. Unlocking his door was a challenge since his hands still shook from adrenaline, and as soon as he was inside he beelined for the bed. It frightened him how still Viktor was in his hands.
He couldn’t even bring himself to change out of his clothes as he laid down on the plush sheets, opening up his cupped hands to let Viktor out.
“I’m so so sorry,” Jayce muttered, not able to look Viktor in the eyes as he spoke, voice wet and thick with emotion.
He barely expected Viktor to respond.
“It’s not your fault,” Viktor sighed after a few awfully quiet moments, “I…thank you…for finding me.”
“I shouldn’t have lost you in the first place,” Jayce grimaced.
Viktor’s face flashed between emotions as he looked up at Jayce. He didn’t miss how Viktor leaned against his thumb, putting as little weight as possible onto his bad leg, and the thought of Viktor falling to the floor and having to navigate through all those people made Jayce feel sick.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Viktor frowned, tilting his head up to better see Jayce’s pained expression, “I don’t blame you.”
“I should’ve noticed sooner I-”
“Jayce,” Viktor practically snapped, brows furrowed in frustration, “Please, just… I am tired.”
Jayce made an expression much akin to a kicked puppy as he stared at Viktor, his eyes flickered between emotions, before he pulled his hands close to his face, Viktor along with them. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but the need to have Viktor close was nearly overwhelming. Gently, he pressed his nose against Viktor, allowing the warmth of his breath to ghost over the smaller man. He could feel how Viktor tensed up for a moment before relaxing against his touch.
“I’m sorry I just…I was so worried,” Jayce exhaled shakily, his lips just barely brushing against Viktor as he spoke, the action small but intimate. Viktor fell quiet in his hands, and as soon as Jayce processed how close they were he flushed with embarrassment.
Quickly, he pulled Viktor away, staring wide-eyed down at him, “I’m sorry I-”
“It’s okay,” Viktor stopped him, eyes wide and face unmistakably red.
Jayce stayed frozen still until Viktor waved to be brought close again, and Jayce couldn’t bring himself to fight it when all he wanted was to hold Viktor close after the whole gala ordeal. When Viktor was close enough again he leaned himself against the bridge of Jayce’s nose, as close to a hug as he could get. The action was slightly awkward, but before he could pull away Jayce pressed his nose back against him, pushing him even closer with his hands. His eyes scrunched tight as he let his shoulders sag and his worries be washed away by the small but comforting weight against his skin.
Again when he exhaled his lips just barely pressed against Viktor, and he couldn’t help how he wanted to stay like that forever. He could feel how Viktor tensed up from the proximity, but the smaller man didn’t tell him to stop, and Jayce was weak so he didn’t ask- too afraid bringing attention to their closeness would cause Viktor to pull away. He reasoned with himself that it was simply the comfort of his friend being close that he wanted. He just had to ignore the nagging want to press his lips fully against the man so carefully nestled in his palms.
That night he fell asleep with Viktor cradled against his chest, his thumb idly rubbing against his side as he rested. And all the while he couldn’t help but think about how nice it felt for the brief moment where his lips brushed against his partner.
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