#there were definitely ways they could have played with him. Not every character needs to have a sob back story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mattnott · 2 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

mattheo riddle x fem reader

SUMMARY. in which mattheo seeks power and needs your help to perform a blood ritual. WORDS. +6.3K. english is not my first language.

WARNINGS. smut, mdni, porn w//plot, mean mattheo, aged up characters, friends to fuck buddies, blood play, blood kink, cuts, spitting, nipple sucking, oral sex f!receiving, pussy drunk mattheo, handjob, dirty talk, biting, marking.

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He was insane. Truly insane. Almost unhinged. Mattheo Riddle was the definition of impulsive thoughts turned into reckless actions, actions that always led him to trouble. He was raw, magnetic, and dangerously unpredictable, the kind of person who attracted attention without even trying. Every move he made, every word he spoke, every breath he took was saturated with confidence and superiority.

He didn’t just attract trouble; he craved it, needed it like it was the only thing keeping him seen.

Mattheo was like a storm no one could outrun, an enigma without resolution, and that was exactly what made him so intoxicating. There was something in his presence that pulled people toward him, whether in admiration or fear, and no one could quite decide if it was for better or worse. He wasn’t just hard to ignore; he was impossible to overlook. He demanded attention simply by existing, and it was maddening, the way he could dominate a room with nothing more than a simple glance.

It could have been for a lot of reasons. Maybe it was the way he acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, the sharp, biting comments he always seemed to have ready, words that stuck like blood on stone.Or maybe it was the fights, the way he seemed to throw himself into them too often, always coming out with the same satisfied expression. After all, he was the only son of the Dark Lord, and that alone was enough to draw all kinds of attention.

Whatever was the reason, chaos seemed to follow him everywhere, like he thrived on it. Perhaps he didn’t care at all. No outsider really knew, and no one ever tried to figure him out. Nobody had the courage to do so.

Either way, there were always whispers about him, cruel rumors about his personality and massive ego, some saying he was just like his father, or maybe even a darker version of him, while others came from students eager to get close in obscene ways, hoping to spend a night with their bodies tangled in his.

Yet Mattheo didn’t show that he cared, always pretending to be focused on his own goals, moving through the chaos unshaken and unbothered, though deep down, the truth was different: he thrived on attention, bad or good, as if he needed it to keep himself whole.

But you had seen enough to know the truth. He was cruel, ruthless, and everything people whispered about him, perhaps even worse. And yet, here you were, trapped in his chaos, each moment with him drawing you deeper into the darkness.

You were trapped. Absolutely trapped.

Perhaps it was in the way he looked at you, his deep brown eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath away, leaving you struggling to keep your heart from racing, as if he saw something inside of you that you weren’t capable of seeing. Or maybe it was the way his words stayed in your mind long after they were spoken, carving their way into your thoughts like a knife you didn’t want to pull out, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already in too deep.

If you thought about it more, you didn’t know what had brought you here. The main factor to why you were so attracted to an ongoing fire.

Could be the adrenaline from his strange proposal, or the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his presence always glued to your mind. Could also be the need to be near him, the way your body moved toward his as if it had no will of its own, or perhaps it was the way he seemed to control your heart in a way you couldn’t even understand. It was twisted, even a little scary, but neither of you cared.

After all, you were friends.

You didn’t know when it stopped feeling like curiosity—just a lingering thought— but the doubt never really went away. Instead it became prominent, tight in your chest whenever he was around. There was something darker about him, something dangerous in the way he lived recklessly, only focused on his own desires, how he thrived on the attention he got, pulling you deeper without even trying.

And now, standing there, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever came next, there was no turning back. No escape.

The Room of Requirement was cloaked in dark shadows, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of flickering candles. Their soft, wavering light offered a fragile sense of comfort, though it did little to ease the tension hanging in the air. The atmosphere was thick and heavy, saturated with the acrid tang of burning incense and something darker, almost unspoken.

Torchlight flickered across the cold stone walls, making jagged patterns that twisted and stretched with each almost shiny flicker. That night, the requirement room felt weird, unlike the form other students seemed to used—every corner seemed like an unsettling, cavernous form that resembled a muggle abandoned cathedral. It felt sacred in a weird twisted way, as if it were built to bear the weight of sinful actions that were too heavy to confess elsewhere.

The faint metallic scent in the air lingered, sharp and heavy, mixed with something even more heavy, felt almost like a warning. On the stone floor, crude runes spiraled out in precise, jagged lines, their edges glowing faintly as though alive and energetic, pulsing in time with the biting silence as if they were watching, waiting to know what was about to take place.

In the center of it all stood Mattheo Riddle, the one person who seemed to take up every space in your mind, his dark robes draping loosely over his strong frame, giving him an effortless air of power, his features, defined and almost angelic, partially hidden by his messy curls that always fell into his pretty eyes.

The flickering torchlight danced off his hair with every movement, making it seem almost alive; there was something strange about how his appearance seemed almost angelic, yet you knew Mattheo’s true personality, making him all the more dangerous, like a trap just waiting for you to step in.

He could look still, even controlled, but there was nothing controlled about this. Nothing about him was controlled.

Mattheo looked at the dagger in his hands, his gaze drifting over the blade, but it wasn’t the dagger that had his attention. It was you. Your eyes were on him, and it felt like he was being torn apart with just that look. It wasn’t like the attention he was used to—no fear or admiration in it.

No, this was different. It was more like an assessment. The weight of your gaze was almost suffocating, as if you were digging into him, getting under his skin in a way that made him feel stupidly exposed and making him feel a strange sensation tighten in his chest, choking his throat in ways he couldn’t understand, and he hated it.

He hated how you made him feel like this—torn between wanting to get closer and wanting to run away from that. And even if it was good or bad; neither mattered. He didn’t want to know. The only thing he knew for sure was that you almost had him entirely.

And for him, that was awful enough.

He never quite understood why his heart raced when he was in your presence, as if it might break through his ribs, his flesh, and fall directly into your palms, fully out of his power. At times he couldn't help but press his hand against his own chest, trying to stop it, trying to hold it back, but it only frustrated him further.

Nevertheless, there were times when he nearly wished his heart would simply give way and land in your hands so you could do with it whatever you pleased, whether that meant crushing it entirely or holding it tenderly between your fingers. He wasn't certain which would provide him with greater comfort, but he was certain that if you gave him that satisfaction, he will never be the same again.

Mattheo sighed and shook his head rapidly, making a dramatic gesture as he attempted to avoid your concentrated, evaluating stare on him once more. He concentrated on the tiny silver dagger in his hand, trying not to hold it too firmly in his palm, but nothing could take away the sensation, and even if it didn't cause him any discomfort, the pressure that made it was obvious.

He let out another sigh, this time frustrated, rubbing his forehead, but couldn’t help releasing another, this time a relieved one, when he saw your attention shift to the two circles drawn around him, almost like some kind of illustration, and he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly as he noticed the change in your expression; at the confusion in your eyes and at your furrowed brows as you tried to make sense of the strange symbols, carefully etched inside the circles on the floor.

Mattheo looked away, quickly shifting his focus to the symbol at his feet. In comparison with the other symbols, this one was far more complex, with each line and curve being meticulous and precise. As he raised his chin in satisfaction with what he did, Mattheo couldn't help but widen his smirk into a full grin, an equal amount of pride and arrogance coming across his expression.

This ritual, this moment—it was his, only his. Yet, for some reason, he felt a twisted satisfaction knowing he was going to share it with you. Even though you were there not completely voluntarily, you still had a place in it, whether you liked it or not.

This time, it was Mattheo who looked at you with an intense, almost predatory gaze, his hand tightening once more around the blade in his palm as he kept his eyes on you. He was already preparing to take the first step toward the power he would gain from what you two were about to do. All he needed was your final confirmation and for you to step into the middle of the circle with him.

“Are you ready for this?” His voice broke the silence, low and almost a purr, making you look up at him. Ready? Fuck no. In fact, you were terrified. Every part of you screamed to run, to get as far away from this room and this stupid ritual as possible. But your body didn’t listen to your brain. Your heart didn’t either. Instead, you stayed still, frozen, your eyes locked with his own, already filled with amusement and something darker, like a challenge.

You knew this was stupid. Hell, it was almost suicidal. A ritual to give him more power, cutting your own hand, spilling your blood, mixing it with his just to make him stronger. It was madness. More than that, even.

But then again, a part of you wanted it. A part of you wanted to leave a piece of yourself with him, to bind yourself to him in some twisted way. And for some fucked-up reason, you craved that. You wanted to be marked by him, to have a part of you inside him forever. Mattheo had already carved his mark into your mind, into the darkest corners of your heart, and now you wanted to do the same.

Stupid curiosity.

“Well?” Mattheo asked again, his voice dripping with amusement, though you could hear the faint edge of annoyance creeping in. He tried to hold onto his usual confident, relaxed demeanor, but it was slipping. “What’s it gonna be?” The same damn question. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to make him ask a third time.

“I…” You paused, your voice cracking, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself under your breath as you felt his gaze digging into you, waiting for the answer he wanted. “I think I’m ready,” you finally said, taking a step forward, ignoring the part of you screaming to get the hell out of there. Yet your body moved faster than your mind, and before you knew it, you took an unconscious step closer to him, making his eyebrow quirk in amusement.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You think?” he repeated, his voice thick with mockery. He almost laughed; if it were not for the situation you two were in.

“Fuck—” you hissed under your breath, cursing yourself again, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched wider. “I’m ready.” You corrected yourself, the words tasting wrong. “I’m ready,” you said again, this time to convince yourself more than him.

Mattheo let out a low, almost manic laugh as his gaze remained fixed on the blade in his hand. The sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as his voice echoed in your ears. When he looked back at you, his eyes were softer than before, though the usual intensity remained, as if he was offering something that, despite not being comfort, somehow left you feeling relieved in a way.

He stretched his hand towards you, his voice calmer than before but still firm. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner this thing is going to end.” The sooner he would have control. Mattheo called you again, and you let out a soft sigh before taking that first step.

Each step you took was filled with hesitation, but your body didn’t seem to care. It moved toward the circle, fighting the doubt gnawing on your mind. When you finally stepped inside, you couldn’t hold back a small sigh as your hand found Mattheo’s. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing as you saw the same smirk on his lips, the reaction causing a tug on your heart. He didn’t need to say anything; you could feel how much he enjoyed this, how much he knew the effect he had on you.

Sometimes you wanted to punch him.

As soon as you took his hand, Mattheo’s confidence wavered slightly; his heart pounded just by your touch. However, he couldn’t hide the dark amusement in his eyes as he watched your flushed cheeks and how your body betrayed you. It was too easy.

“This,” he said, gesturing to the intricate runes carved into the floor with the tip of his dagger, his grip tightening around your hand, not to soothe you, but to remind himself you were still there. “It’s going to hurt like hell.” He said it with such ease, as if the pain and the blood were just a minor part. You swallowed hard, the confirmation of what you already knew settling deep in your stomach. “At least for you,” he added with an eyebrow raised, his voice laced with amusement.

His words weren’t reassuring at all—not that you expected them to be. He didn’t care about calming you or making this easier to bear. That wasn’t his style, and it never had been. Mattheo thrived in chaos, in mess, and he wanted you to feel every bit of it. He wanted to pull you into the madness, to push you until you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re not exactly helping me calm down, you know?” you said through gritted teeth, barely stopping yourself from telling him to go fuck himself.

Mattheo chuckled dryly, releasing your hand to stop you from gripping it, from finding any comfort in his presence. “Glad to know, sweetheart.” He said casually, like it didn’t matter at all. “But who said I want you to calm down?” he murmured, and you might have thought he was joking if it weren’t for the fact that you had known him for years.

You scoffed at his lack of sympathy. It wasn’t surprising, though; his attitude was one of the things that drew you to him, even if it wasn’t exactly healthy. You watched as he lit more candles, the flame dancing with every step he took, highlighting the sharp lines of his features. He was an insensitive prick, but dear god, he was a beautiful one.

After a few seconds, Mattheo stood up, still holding the dagger in his hand. He glanced at you, and for a brief moment, something in his gaze made his heartbeat almost thud down his ribs. He took a few steps toward you, and your eyes met. His dark eyes were intense, unreadable, and the weight of the air between you made your stomach twist. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, with a hint of mischief in his tone. The corner of his mouth twitched, the excitement creeping slowly.

“Take off your shirt.”

You blinked, shocked, and for a few seconds, all your fear vanished. “Excuse me?!”

Mattheo observed you, almost as if he were stripping you bare. “Your shirt,” he repeated, his tone annoyingly dismissive. He spun the dagger in his palm with flawless precision, taking a step closer as if your hesitancy pleased him. “Take it off,” he said almost coolly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

You crossed your arms, feeling your heart race as your face flushed with heat. “And why, exactly, do I need to do that?” You snapped, your voice sharp. You had fantasized a thousand times about Mattheo asking you to do this, but you never imagined it would actually happen, especially not now, in this situation.

“For the ritual,” he said simply, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that bordered on taunting, as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “I need access to your skin, sweetheart. The magic won’t work otherwise.” His words were smooth, but you couldn’t shake the feeling they held a hint of mockery.

You hesitated, studying him closely. There was something about his response that didn’t sit right, too casual in a way that felt almost taunting, like he wasn’t being completely honest. “You’re making that up,” you said flatly, letting your arms drop to your sides, your eyes narrowing as you searched on his face for a sign of truth.

His smirk widened, and he continued to twirl the dagger between his fingers, his eyes locked on you. The sight of your flushed cheeks only seemed to make him think with his other head. “Am I?” He took another step closer.

“Please, Mattheo, I know that’s bullshit!” you spat out, trying to ignore how his smug expression made your skin heat, though particularly of you couldn’t help but consider it.

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the tension between you nearly unbearable. His voice dipped, rough and almost deliberate, as his dark eyes shamelessly trailed down your body before locking onto yours again.

“Alright,” he murmured, a smile laying wickedly on his lips. “Maybe it’s not entirely necessary. But it helps. A lot.”

The dagger moved lazily in his hand, the sharp edge skimming his palm without cutting his palm. His gaze never left you, steady and intense, like a predator watching its prey. “And we both know you want this to work out, don’t we, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, a truth you hated to admit even to yourself. You wanted him to notice you—really notice you—the way his gaze seemed to strip you bare, peeling back layers you didn’t even realize you had. But the sharp flare of anger clawed its way up your chest, tangling with the strange pull he always seemed to have over you, leaving you somewhere between furious and helpless.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head, the disappointment cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You weren’t sure if it was aimed at him or at yourself for falling into this moment—this trap. Probably both.

“And yet,” he said, taking another step toward you, “here you are.” He mocked you, making you bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him to fuck off.

The space between you two was basically nonexistent now, and Mattheo fucking hated it. Hated that it was him moving closer, like he couldn’t help himself. Hated how his body had a mind of its own, reacting to you in ways that made him feel like an idiot. The thought of you, without your shirt, without anything, was driving him insane, his imagination running wild no matter how much he tried to shove it down.

Fuck. He could already feel the strain in his pants, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the fabric. It pissed him off—how easily you got under his skin, how fucking hard it was to keep his cool around you.

“Fine,” you bit out, your voice rougher than you felt, and Mattheo’s smile twisted with satisfaction, practically waiting for you to do it. You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way his eyes were glued to you. Your fingers lingered at the hem of your shirt, heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the guts to go through with it.

Mattheo’s smirk only deepened, his eyes never leaving you, and for a moment, it felt like he was inside your head, reading you like a damn book. His gaze dropped low, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. You seemed so fucking soft. “Need help?” he asked, voice dripping with mockery.

“Shut up, Mattheo” you snapped, yanking the fabric over your head in one swift motion, a shiver running through your whole body. Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

The second the shirt left your body, the air felt heavier, but you felt the coldness against your exposed skin and nipples. Mattheo’s expression shifted, his smirk slipping for a moment as his eyes scanned over you, taking in more than you were prepared to show. You cursed yourself for not wearing a bra under the thin fabric, your chest bare under the dim torchlight and his searing gaze. Mattheo swore the zipper on his pants was going to break any second.

You couldn't help but feel trapped by his piercing stare as his eyes remained on you, shamelessly tracing your hard nipples. He seemed oblivious; nonetheless, his eyes burned with need as his mind wandered, thinking about the taste of his tongue on your nipples, sucking and biting until all you could think about was the feel of his wet tongue. He held the dagger tightly, only reacting when the blade cut into his flesh.

“Well,” he began, attempting to put the thoughts flowing through his head to the back of his mind, his voice rougher than before, “guess you were more ready than we thought.” He mocked you again, but it seemed like he was also mocking himself.

You could feel your cheeks burning, a mix of anger and something else boiling inside you. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to block him out, but the moment you saw the way Mattheo’s eyes were fixed on you filled with desire, your hands fell to your sides, betraying your own brain. You wanted this. You wanted him to see you, to really see you.

But as you realized you were staring at him in the same way, you quickly shook your head, trying to push down the desire and need, force some control back into your own voice. “Just get on with it,” you ‘snapped’, trying to hide how much it stung, how much you craved that attention.

Mattheo’s smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, full with devilment. He took another step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours, and gestured toward the circle with a lazy flick of his hand. “As you wish.”

His expression didn’t shift, his confidence simmering just below the surface as he stepped even closer to you, trying not to look at your bare chest. His eyes flickered to the symbols on the ground, their faint glow reflecting in the depths of his gaze. Without a word he reached up and tugged his shirt over his head, casting it aside without care. He didn’t look at you but still waited for your reaction. You had already drawn one from him—only fair if he returned the favor, right?

You, on the other hand, swallowed hard, your gaze shamelessly tracing the lines of his abdomen and bare, muscular chest. The candles and torchlight cast sharp shadows across the scars etched into his skin, and you held your breath without meaning to. When he glanced forward slightly, his eyes still on the ground as he did so, he had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of your clenched fists, trying to control yourself.

This was going to be fun, at least.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke or moved. The silence stretched thin, both of you consumed by the same thoughts, the same dirty images racing through your minds. Your chests rose and fell heavily, both of you struggling to regain a normal breath. It was fucking madness.

Mattheo quickly composed himself, standing at the point of the small symbol on the ground, making sure you mirrored his position on the opposite side. Your bare chests were almost touching, the air thick with tension, your hard nipples brushing just slightly against his skin. He gave a low sigh, words slipping from his lips in a language you couldn’t understand, his voice deep and commanding.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the symbols on the floor pulsed to life, glowing with an eerie light, while the candle flames flickered wildly, as though responding to his words.

He looked at the dagger in his hand, a proud glint in his eyes before letting his gaze drift up to your face. His eyes lingered on your features, the softness of your eyes, the way your lips parted just enough to drive him insane. He almost couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch you, but he stayed still, his jaw tight. “Are you ready?” he asked, his lips moving without sound. “I am,” you mouthed back, the hesitation in your eyes impossible to miss. But he ignored it, choosing to focus on the way you stood there—no turning back now, and honestly? He didn’t want you to cover up.

Mattheo gripped the dagger with steady hands, his brown eyes flickering briefly to the runes as if making sure everything was aligned. Without a second thought, he pressed the sharp blade to his palm, slicing through the skin with quick, practiced precision. The blood surged from the cut, dripping thick and dark onto the glowing runes below. They reacted violently, flaring brighter, more alive, as if the blood was feeding the symbols, feeding him.

You held your breath, knowing you were next. But you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the ground, watching his blood drip onto the floor beneath both of your feet.

After a few seconds, he lifted his chin, pride in his eyes, his curls moving like the magic around the circles. He grabbed your hand without a word, pressing the dagger into your palm, his gaze never leaving yours. He was waiting, daring you to cut yourself just like he had.

You felt his blood drip onto your wrist, the warmth of it sending a jolt through your veins. As the dagger pressed into your palm, a breath caught in your throat. The weight of the blade was more than you expected, and for a moment, your eyes lingered on the crimson stains left by Mattheo’s cut, almost hypnotic, tempting you.

Your heart quickened, your pulse echoing in your ears. You hesitated—for a moment. His eyes found you once again, a look that urged you to continue. The hesitation lingering in your heart suddenly dispersed; you wanted nothing but to mark him as yours.

With a deep breath, you pressed the blade to your palm, hissing softly as the edge cut into your skin, making you feel even more bare and open than you already did. The pain was sharp, fleeting, quickly replaced by the blood spilling down your skin, as the runes reacted violently to your action, their glow flaring in response.

It was instantaneous. The moment your blood touched the floor, the room seemed to exhale, the light flaring brighter and the air humming with a charged, almost electric energy as the ritual began. But the reaction was brief, for Mattheo’s focus shifted.

Mattheo’s gaze was fixed on the cut on your hand, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if he was mesmerized by the crimson blood streaks trailing down your wrist, mingling with his the drops of his blood already on your skin. His jaw clenched, and you swore you saw him swallow hard as he continued to look, his chest rising and falling with a depth of intensity you’d never seen in him before.

“Mattheo?” You called softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your heartbeat quickening against your bare chest. Yet, it was enough to break his attention.

His eyes naturally met yours once again, vulnerability flickering in his gaze, though the rest of his expression remained unreadable, like a contrast to the hunger simmering beneath. But Mattheo didn't step back. Instead, his calloused fingers brushed against the blood on your wrist, smearing it slightly. The contact sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, neither of you remembered how to breathe.

“Mattheo…” you called out again, but this time it was almost a plea for him not to stop. He obeyed your unspoken request, his fingers tracing your skin as if exploring new territory, so gently that it almost made you forget the lingering sting in your hand.

Mattheo’s hands moved deliberately, spreading the blood from the deep cut on your hand. He seemed oblivious to the matching wound on his own skin as he dragged the crimson trail up to your neck, smearing it across your skin. Without warning, his lips pressed against the spot, his tongue tracing the blood. He let out a low groan at the taste, and you couldn’t suppress your own when you felt the warmth of his tongue against you.

“It’s so sweet,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, the crimson of your blood staining them as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that felt almost inhuman. “So fucking sweet.” His teeth continued to drag along your skin, while his hand slid down your arm, seeking more of your blood. His fingers tightened around your palm, squeezing to draw out more of the liquid, making you groan in a mix of pain and pleasure as the burn surged through you.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Mattheo whispered, biting your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin painfully. He didn’t care about the grunt of pain that escaped your lips, not when more blood joined the one already staining your throat. Right after his first bite, you moaned, your thighs rubbing together in an attempt to ease the wetness in your cunt.

Mattheo chuckled in satisfaction, bringing his bloodied hand to your stomach, the crimson spreading across your exposed skin like a mark. “You like it, don’t you?” he murmured against your throat, pressing his lips to the marks he had left with his teeth. But when he noticed you hadn’t answered, he bit your neck harder than before and squeezed your stomach, causing more blood to spread across the area.

You swallowed hard, locking eyes with him as you tried to form a sentence, but the only words that escaped your lips were a barely audible, “Yes, fucking yes,” which only made him laugh harder. He tightened his grip on your skin, sending a sharp sting through your own body.

“Of course you do… such a fucking slut,” Mattheo chuckled again against your throat, his teeth sinking into the spot once more, making you moan. He mimicked the sound, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as he tasted your blood again on his teeth. His tongue throbbed with desire, savoring the metallic taste. Holy shit, he could cum just from the taste of your blood. “But you taste so damn good.”

He seemed to have completely forgotten the ritual, and you, too, had let it slip away. You didn’t want to remember, not when his blood stained your skin, not when your own blood marked him, and not when his mark lingered on you.

Mattheo pulled back slightly, looking at your state and the way your plush lips were parted as you stared at him, your eyes filled with the same desire he showed.

Without warning, Mattheo grabbed your cut hand with the one resting on your stomach, his blood mingling with yours as he guided your hand to your neck, then down to your breasts, trailing the blood like a map. Before you could react to the sting of your hard nipple pressing against the cut, Mattheo moved faster, pulling your nipple—now smeared with your own blood—into his mouth.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his tongue teasing the tips of your bloodied breasts, the taste of your blood on his tongue making him swirl around your breast more eagerly. The sensation only made him harder beneath his robes, each moan of his growing louder as he savored the taste of you.

You were lost in the pleasure of his mouth, concentrated with the way his tongue lapped like a hungry animal. The way his hands pushed your now bloody breasts together enough for his head to dive between them as he continued to whisper praises, words of hunger. You didn’t hear nothing but the sounds of his mouth nor saw how he desperately reached for release, your body causing him to react out of character.

“Fuck...” he murmured, his hand releasing the softness of your skin as he reached down towards his pants. Fast, uncoordinated, he released his cock from the restraints, his bloody hands wrapping around his cock that dripped with precum. His movements grew faster, driven by the growing intensity of the taste of blood on his tongue.

You looked down, catching a glimpse through the small crease of his neck as he dragged his palm over his hard cock while sucking on your nipples. You couldn’t help but moan louder, your bloody hand gripping his shoulders as you tried to ignore how your body was responding—the wetness between your legs that you knew he could feel.

“Your tits…”Mattheo moaned even louder, dragging a moan from your lips in response. Fuck, he was so close.

“Fuck, your blood tastes so fucking good.” He moaned louder, and as he sucked harder on your nipples, his mouth closing around the bud tighter. Your chest was now covered in his bites, the marks of Mattheo Riddle, almost like a sign of ownership. Your body quivered against his hold, rubbing pathetically against him as you felt the tingle flutter in your stomach. You were close, lost in the daze, you had no idea whether it was from pleasure or the lost of blood—or both. You were desperately clinging to his shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a spell.

The hold on his length tightened in his hand, and he came instantly. Another hoarse moan escaped his throat, and he pulled away from your chest for a moment, gasping for air. You gripped onto his shoulders once more, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. So sudden, so quick you fell against his hold as your body convulsed with pleasure.

Mattheo leaned against you, allowing himself a moment to relax. But when he noticed the blood still running down your throat from where he had placed your hand, he couldn’t help but let out a growl. He yanked your hair back harshly, making you gasp and exposing your throat, your scream barely escaping as he did so.

“Mattheo…!” You tried to speak, but he didn’t care; he never did. He only pushed you further against him, your nipples pressed against his bare chest as he licked your throat, letting out another groan as he tasted the metallic flavor again. His tongue traced the line of your throat, dragging the blood up to your chin, before he licked it off obscenely, making you sigh at the sensation.

Mattheo’s hand in your hair tightened, and in one swift motion, he turned you onto your back, pulling your hair even harder as your back arched against him. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, an order you immediately understood. You obeyed without hesitation, and before you could react, he spat into your mouth and thrust his tongue inside, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was rough and erotic, the fire burning from the inside making it impossible to avoid it. You could taste your own blood on his tongue, and it only made your cunt wetter, the intensity overwhelming. It was too much—more than you’d ever imagined.

You had pictured moments like this, where you and Mattheo would kiss, tasting each other’s tongues, but this was different. It wasn’t the fantasy you had dreamed of; it was raw, wild, and rougher than anything you could have ever anticipated. His teeth clashed with yours, and your tongue tangled with his, as he unleashed his most primal side. He was giving you a taste of the part of you he had consumed, and you were trapped, just as you always would be.

You didn’t care about the pain in your scalp, only the hand that held you.

Mattheo’s hands were rough, touching everything he could. His mouth marking you over and over as he swallowed every small noise you released. He was warm, too warm, a sting feeling in your mouth as he sucked and bit into your lips, the softness of your skin tethering as his mouth was once again filled with the sweetness of your blood.

He was about to lose his mind.

Mattheo sighed against your now split lip, “Stop me… Tell me to stop, and I will.” He wouldn’t; you both knew it.

You held him against you tighter; you were already too deep into him—all you wanted was to devour him, mark him enough to show everyone he belonged to you, only you. You wanted to inflict a pain he would never forget, a pain similar to the pain he caused you, so you did. Your hands wrapped around his neck, your mouth tracing his lips, then his cheeks, then suddenly the warmth of his neck. Mattheo gripped you hard; he made no sudden movement, anxiously awaiting your motive. You bit into his neck, sucking the flushed skin as your teeth marked him with the same strength he did to you.

Another soft flow came into your mouth, you gasped, the metallic taste odd in your mouth but enough to send your heart thundering.

Mattheo whimpered, his dominant facade slipping as he sickly enjoyed the way you took control. You were so sweet, so delicate—you were completely the opposite. The idea he corrupted you twisted a sick, powerful thought in his brain. You were his.

Your tongue reached towards his mouth again, finding yourself eye to eye with the man you wanted nothing more than to control. “Don’t ever stop; I need you.”

Mattheo grinned, his lips bloody, his brown eyes becoming dark as he suddenly pushed you towards the runes that glowed against your body. The symbols glowed, vibrating with the blood that dripped onto it. As he stood over you, he wished to capture the moment forever. You looked so fucking pretty.

He leaned over, his knees staining with the blood smeared against the cold tiles. His fingers moved quickly, desperately. He watched as your body spoke to him, reacting to every touch. Your breasts covered in his marks, his blood and yours on them that caused his cock to twitch violently.

He wanted more than the taste of your breasts; he wanted to taste the juices that gathered in the silk of your panties. He wanted to feel the way your cunt twitched and throbbed against his mouth, and damn, did he want nothing more than to have you fuck yourself on his tongue. The sweetest angel from Hogwarts all displayed for him, to hell with the ritual; now he just wanted to swallow you whole.

Without warning, he hoisted your legs onto his shoulders with an almost violent urgency, a deep moan escaping his lips as he leaned closer to your wet pussy. The intoxicating scent filled his senses, making his bloodied hand tighten around your thigh, gripping it as if commanding you to choke him; a command you had no intention of disobeying.

Mattheo looked at your face, the dried blood around your parted lips, your cheeks flushed from everything he was doing to you, and your dilated pupils watching him anxiously. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, and you instantly bit your lip. Fuck, he was about to get hard again.

“Please, I need you, Mattheo,” you begged, rubbing your hips desperately, trying to get closer to his flushed face. You needed his mouth, and he was more than willing to be a good friend and give you exactly what you wanted.

“No need to beg like a slut, sweetheart,” he said, moving closer to your pulsing cunt, the light from the dunes making your wetness glisten even more. You held your breath as his warm breath ghosted over your slick folds. “I’m eager to give you what you want,” he murmured, leaning even closer, his nose brushing against your arousal as he took in your scent. Just as you were about to beg him to do something, his tongue was quicker—teasing, tasting, and finally giving in to the need to lick you.

Mattheo followed his instincts and hunger, his palms gripping your thighs even tighter, leaving bloodstained marks on your skin just as he had on the rest of your body. The sting of his own cut burned with the pressure, but he didn’t stop, sliding his hands to your hips as his tongue moved swiftly against your folds, savoring and memorizing every inch of you.

You could feel Mattheo’s cheeks pressed against your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, suffocating himself in your scent and taste. He mentally begged some higher power to let him one day die like this—only after his hunger was completely satisfied. Your back arched, heat swirling in your stomach as Mattheo licked your pussy with reckless desperation.

He was ravenous, savoring every part of you, and when your nails dug into his scalp, he let out another growl, pushing himself even deeper between your legs, making you moan even louder.

“Fucking yes, sweetheart,” he murmured against your pussy, sucking harder as your cries of pleasure filled the room. “Keep moaning like a slut, keep saying my name.” He bit down on your flesh, making you moan even louder, your legs trembling around him. He chuckled darkly, the vibrations of his laughter sending shocks through your body and making you cry out even more.

Fuck the ritual, fuck the power—the only power he craved was the power he held over you.

“Mattheo,” you moaned even louder, rocking your hips against his face as your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him closer. “Right there, oh my—!” you cried out, feeling him lose himself between your legs, consumed by his thoughts and the blood still staining his lips.

Mattheo’s fast, steady movements continued, his almost feral tongue lapping at your cunt as his hands roamed your body. He could feel his cock harden at the sound of your sweet moans. Fuck, the taste of your blood mingled with your arousal was divine—almost too much for him to bear.

He continued kissing your clit, desperate to savor your full taste, his tongue messily exploring your folds, drinking in every drop he could. All you felt in the moment was him. The sounds muffled as if underwater. Your fingers dug into his scalp, causing him to flick his tongue against your bud faster, his fingers circling it, his grin plastered with pride as he heard you cry loudly.

“Such a pretty one you are,” he muttered, his words slurring into the juices of your cunt.

You only released a jumble of words, your bare back arching as you squirmed beneath him. You were on the edge, and you could feel it—both of you could. The anticipation was electric, and you were both eager for the release. All he wanted was to make you cum.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured against your folds, the scent of your cunt making him dizzy. “Come for me.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than you let out a final scream, the orgasm hitting you hard as your body arched, feeling your cum dripping from your pussy.

Mattheo groaned against your cunt once more, lapping at your release as he lost himself in your flavor. Quickly, he grabbed your cut hand, spreading its blood over your pussy to mix with the cum. When he felt it was enough, he ran his tongue over your folds, savoring the metallic taste of blood combined with the sweet remnants of your orgasm, only stopping when not a drop remained, and you pushed him away.

The runes still flickered on the ground, glowing brighter with the smell of your release in the air. Blood stained both your bodies, marking each other, marking the new connection between you that neither of you wanted to escape. Mattheo stood there, watching you, his brown eyes observing, shining with pride watching your state. His eyes traced the blood on your skin, lingering on the cut on your hand, before meeting your eyes again.

“We didn’t finish the ritual,” you managed to say, your voice soft, timid once again compared to the wildness you held as you let Mattheo control you, your body still shaking from one of the best orgasms you ever experienced.

Mattheo’s smirk grew, just a little as he continued to look at the mess he had done. “It’s fine, sweetheart. We can always try again.”

He was right; after all, friends helped each other.

— please be nice, it’s 4 am it probably has some mistakes!

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

also a big thank you for my favorite beta readers @earth4angels & @astrxq , without them i couldn’t write all this!! i love you both off you forever

venting: sometimes, i hate english because my hard lines in portuguese don’t make sense and seem so repetitive :(

#— ; 𝐳𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 🧳#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #mattheo imagine #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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tannedalien · 1 year ago

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HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Vox #Vox x Reader #Hazbin Hotel oneshots #Husk #Husk x Reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #vivziepop\

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reidrum · 8 months ago

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hit me baby one more time | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: i have no explanation for this i just really want spencer to fuck me in a mini skirt. this was also fueled by me listening to baby one more time on repeat for the last week so enjoy my horny thoughts hehe

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v sex, munch!spencer, blowjobs, soft!dom!spence the loml, praise kink, spanking, suggestive dancing, kissing, afab reader, reader wears the outfit from the baby one more time mv (skirt and bra), i picture s11 spence so don’t mind the inconsistencies, idk if kirk actually wears a tie i am a star wars girlie not star trek, lowkey perv spence at the end but i would do the same tbh

summary: halloween brings spencer joy in many ways, this year he finds a new, and super fucking hot, reason to love the holiday more

wc: 3.3k

___________

spencer loved halloween. this was a known fact by many, he loved the lore behind the holiday, loved dressing up as his favorite characters, and loved playing tricks on morgan and jj around the office.

spencer also loved halloween because he gets to see you. not that he didn’t see you on a daily basis in the office or on the field catching killers, but in a state where you were carefree and didn’t have to worry about the behavior patterns of a psychopath.

in past years spencer has dressed up as different versions of the doctor (still claiming his tenth doctor costume was the best, because it was your favorite), the hobbit from lord of the rings, and nosferatu (to the dismay of morgan’s very scared reaction). you would go a more pop culture route, dressing up as characters from recent movies and shows including barbie, the scarlet witch, and wednesday adams.

he loved being able to tell you the lore of the different characters he was and he loved listening to you explaining the cultural significance and impact that barbie had on society. he could listen to you talk about literal garbage, actually, and still be hanging onto your every word.

what he loved the most, however, was your choice of costume tonight at the karaoke bar the team was out at.

for halloween this year you decided to go with a more nostalgic costume. clad in a black mini skirt, tied up white button up showing your tummy and just the right amount of cleavage to have your hot pink bra pop out, gray cardigan, knee high socks and mary janes, you were the spitting image of britney spears in the baby one more time music video. complete with the ribbon entwined pigtails.

the moment you walked in the bar, spencer knew he was utterly and absolutely fucked.

morgan knew about spencer’s infatuation with you, because, he’s morgan and spencer’s not subtle. so when he watched spencer’s mouth hang open like a beckoning for flies to land in, all he could do was pat him firmly on the back and say, “good luck, kid.”

he watched you walk over to the table the team had claimed, making your rounds at saying hi and hugging everyone. he was last, and when you reached up on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck he had no choice (lie) but to rest his hands at your hips while his thumbs brushed the bare skin of your stomach. he also had no choice (still, a lie) but to be deathly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo and perfume as you placed your head in the crook of his neck.

“hi spence! your costume looks so cool, i love how it turned out. were you able to find what you needed at that store i told you about?” you bubbled happily.

it took spencer about ten whole seconds of staring at you (and definitely not at your chest) to realize that you were asking him something and tried to quickly (embarrassingly) recover, “um, yeah no i was! she knew so much about star trek and was super helpful, she told me how much she loves seeing you in the store.”

you giggle, “i’m glad admiral kirk, she’s a sweet old thing.”

he should be ashamed at how you calling him that went straight to his crotch.

“y- you also look great, who are you supposed to be?”

“i’m britney spears! in the baby one more time music video?”, you’re met with a blank stare, “spence, we have to educate you better on the true icons of our time.” you playfully grab his forearm.

he laughs nervously at your joke and the contact and proceeds to down half his beer in one gulp. thank god garcia comes out of nowhere to gush over your outfit, “oh my god girl, you look so hot. you have to get up there and sing it, it’s only right!”

“let me get a few shots in first and then i’ll see, penny” you chuckle back.

after about two shots you were already feeling loose, whatever anxiety you had about tonight dissipated as the alcohol overtook your bloodstream. truth be told, you had a super secret mission up your sleeve.

you would be a terrible profiler if you didn’t notice the way spencer changed whenever he was in your company, and it never made you feel uncomfortable. you only craved his attention even more, and it made your crush on him run even deeper. he was kind and smart and caring. and undeniably sexy. you knew for a fact he wanted you too, and you were determined to make him do something about it tonight.

knowing spencer hasn’t seen the music video therefore not knowing why the schoolgirl outfit, it turned you on even more knowing he was going to lose his goddamn mind after you were done. the plan was already rolling in your brain as you sauntered up to the karaoke stage and got ready to put on a show.

the beginning beats of the song play and you get a couple of cheers and “let’s go, baby!” from the crowd and your team— sans spencer, who was hanging on your every move as you started swaying your hips.

“my loneliness, is killing me. and i-i-i. i must confess, i still believe, still believe.” you sing and dance the choreography to the song you know so well.

“when i’m not with you, i lose my mind.” you make direct eye contact with spencer, and are more than excited to see him locked in on you too.

you decide to kick your plan up a notch, and walk off the stage mic in hand towards the bau’s table, earning many cheers and phones capturing the moment. you play up the theatrics a little by getting emily and jj to sing along with you, morgan and rossi leaning into you as you wrapped your arms around their shoulders.

“give me a si-i-i-ign,” you’ve reached spencer, and the last step in your plan.

your finger leaves featherlight touches around his shoulders and across his collarbone as you stand behind his chair. a flat hand trails down his chest closer to the bulge in his pants, spencer’s eyes widening at the gesture. your hand reaches the final destination at the base of tie, and you pull it so he’s looking up at you directly.

“hit me baby one more time.” you finish with the biggest smirk, never breaking eye contact with spencer. the cheers and claps became louder but all you could focus on were the deep breaths he was taking to compose himself. you give him a wink as you hand the mic back to the stage guy and walk back to him to sit on his lap.

“you don’t mind, do you? all the seats are taken,” you smirk as you feel his hard on through your lace panties, “plus i really want to hear what you thought about my performance.” you finish whispering in his ear. he shudders in your hold, but the feeling of your ass weighing on the place he needs you the most, his primal instincts take over and suddenly he has a boost of confidence.

he lifts your head so his mouth is right on the crest of your ear, “how about i show you what your performance did to me?” he shifts a little and lightly thrusts up into your clothed core and you let out a small gasp. luckily the team had all but dispersed throughout the bar, getting drinks or dancing, so no one has to be privy to your conversation.

the glint in your eyes was all the confirmation he needed. you stood up slowly with his tie still wrapped around your fingers, and you pull it over your shoulder so he would trail behind you as you walked. spencer followed you like a dog getting tugged by a leash, literally, and stumbles at first when you pull him but he quickly regains his composure as you navigate through the crowds, placing his hands on your waist protectively.

you end up in front of the women’s bathroom and spencer doesn’t hesitate to push the doors open and lead you inside. it was one of those single person bathroom with no other stalls, but it was definitely one of the more nicer bathrooms you’d been in. the maroon pattern of the wall adding to the sultry vibe you’re setting, not to mention a spacious countertop for the sink and amenities.

the possibilities of what was going to happen run wild in your brain, only being pulled out of it by the sharp lock of the door and the feeling of strong hands snaking around your waist again.

you look up to meet his eyes in the mirror and watch spencer fiddle with the edge of your button up, “i don’t think i told you how much i really like your costume.”

“yeah?” you lean back in his touch, “what do you like about it?”

he moves his hands to the middle of your chest, “well, i like how soft the blouse is,” he deftly undoes the knot, “and i really like the color you got on underneath.” he lets the ends of the shirt fall to your side and slides his hands up to cup your breasts through your lace bra, massaging them gently.

you let out a half gasp-moan, “what else?”

“this skirt is really cute, fits you well.” he hums while he smooths over the front close to your core, leaning down to press love bites into your neck.

you turn around in his embrace to face him, lay your hands flat on his chest, and look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster, “want to see what’s underneath it?”

the ghost of a smirk lies on his face and he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. his hand cups your cheek closer to him while his other one grips your ass and lower back.

his tongue slots between yours as he deepens the kiss, and he reaches down to the backs of your thighs to lift you up onto the counter. your legs open up instinctively and he steps in between them letting his hand run up the plush of your thigh to the band of your panties. he toys with the lace pattern of it before he detaches his lips and pulls the skirt all the way up.

he slowly sinks to his knees, never breaking eye contact with you as he whispers, “this is definitely my favorite costume on you.” he’s face to face with your pink panty covered pussy and he lets out a groan when he notices the wet spot in the center. he tentatively traces a finger up and down your slit, gauging your reactions.

soft whimpers fall from your mouth as you let out a whiny, “spencer…”

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna take care of you.” he coos, “lift your hips.” you oblige as he gently pulls your panties down and stuffs them in his back pocket. his large hands push your legs apart, giving him better access as he tugs you closer to the edge and leans in to draw a long stripe up your core with his tongue.

you let out a high pitched moan at the contact, bracing yourself on the counter with your palms flat down. his tongue draws shapes on you and you feel his finger prodding around your hole before plunging in, driving you straight to delirium.

the sensations begin to overwhelm you and you feel the peak rising in your gut. you tangle your hands in his curls, “pl- please don’t stop.” you whimper.

he groans into your pussy and you feel the vibration sent throughout your entire body, enough to push you over the edge and let the white hot overtake you. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers or his tongue as he drags out your orgasm for as long as you’ll take it, before you’re yanking him by his hair off of your core and up to your face to kiss him dumb.

the salty taste of you lingers on his lips as you grab his face with both hands and keep him close to you. he lets out a whimper when you tug his hair again, and you smirk as you break the kiss to slide off the counter and drop to your knees. you quickly undo the clasp of his belt, the sound of his zipper going down making spencer’s heartbeat go faster.

the size of his bulge through his boxers was intimidating but it only spurred your desire to please him more. you look up at him and offer an innocent smile as you lean forward to pull back the fabric of his boxers with your teeth and let it fall back into place with a snap.

the impact caused spencer to moan out loud, and he watched with bated breath while you slowly tugged his boxers down to let his cock spring free. you let out a tiny gasp, “spencer…i never knew you were so pretty.”

his preening turns into a sharp moan as you take in the head of his length into your mouth. swirling your tongue around like a lollipop. you lay your tongue flat on the underside of his cock and slowly let it enter your throat until your nose is flush with his tummy and you’re gagging to keep him inside.

“ho-o-ly shit, fuck.” spencer groans when he looks down to see his whole length down your throat and your eyes bulging with tears at the fullness in your mouth. he wishes he had a photographic memory so he could engrave the vision of you on your knees for him in his brain forever.

you retract back and start bobbing your head on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you couldn’t easily fit in your mouth. expletives and moans fall from him every millisecond, the feeling being so irrepressible that after a minute spencer had to pry you off him so he didn’t finish in your mouth.

“what, too much?” you grin mischievously, dragging your thumb across your bottom lip to wipe the spit.

his heavy breathing is the only answer you got as he turns your body around to face the mirror, and bends you down at the waist to lean your upper body on the counter. he flips your skirt up so your ass is on display for him and draws his hand back to give your right ass cheek a big smack.

you moan out languishly and he lets out a small chuckle, “kinky, are we?”

“you’re the one who spanked me.”

he bends down to whisper in your ear, “yeah, but you liked it. i can feel you getting wetter.” his fingers return to your core to spread the new wetness onto his cock before aligning it at your entrance. he slowly pushes in, stretching you out bewitchingly. he breaks his gaze from where you connect to look back into the mirror, and god, is he so fucking glad he did.

your face is beautifully fucked out, eyes glistening with tears about to fall over, cheeks flushed, eyebrows furrowed, your arms pressed so perfectly against the sides of your chest your breasts are threatening to spill out of your bra.

“god, you look like a dream,” spencer whispers from behind as he begins thrusting into you. you moan back in response and push back on his cock to meet his thrusts. the noise of your hips meeting and him sliding in and out of you filled the bathroom.

“i’m so close, fuck, oh my god.” you whine pathetically. spencer can’t help but smugly grin in response, “already? it can’t be over that fast, hold it.”

you gasp out, “i can’t, please, i need to come.”

he wraps one arm around the front of stomach to hoist you up and uses the other hand to tug on your pigtails to lean your head back towards him, “you’ll come when i say you can. you’re my good girl, right? gonna show me how good you can be for me?” he whispers hotly in your ear.

a loud moan escapes your throat as you try to keep your composure and hold your orgasm at bay. his precise and timed thrusts doing nothing to help you, you feel yourself starting to float away, becoming so cockdrunk off of spencer you can barely keep yourself conscious.

“almost there, pretty girl. you’re doing so well, ‘m so proud of you.”

you make the mistake of looking back up at the mirror, becoming grossly entrapped by the image of spencer pounding into you from behind and his equally fucked out face tucked into your neck, “spence…baby, please.”

he whines at the pet name and finally gives in, “okay princess, you can come now.” your second orgasm of the night ravages through you, leaving nothing behind but thoughts of spencer. he continues fucking you through your peak, chasing his own release to come shortly after.

“fuck, i’m close. where d- do you want me to..?” he stutters.

“in my mouth.” you breath out.

he groans out loud, “on your knees.”

he pulls out of you and you immediately drop to your knees, not hesitating to take his length into your mouth and using both hands to pump the remaining. spencer puts a hand on the back of your head and guides you to thrust onto his cock until he lets out another stuttered groan, spurts of his release coating the inside of your mouth.

you make sure to get every last drop of him down your throat, seductively sliding your mouth off his cock with a resounding pop. you’re breathing heavily and you remain on your knees as you try to remember what fucking world you’re even in. spencer grabs you by the forearms to pull you back up to him, and gently perches you back on the counter noting you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own anyway.

spencer breathes hotly into your face, his hand coming up to caress your cheek and brush a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. his other hand remains on your waist, drawing soothing circles. you grin widely, and spencer notices and matches your smile without hesitation.

“what?” he laughs lightly.

“nothing, it’s just it looks like my plan worked.” you replied.

“and what was this plan of yours?” he grins.

“well, i just wanted you hot and bothered. i did not expect you to fuck me in a bar bathroom,” he blushes at your admission, “plus, you don’t even shake people’s hands. i definitely thought having sex in a public place, let alone the bathroom of a bar, would be so not your style.”

“i think if you keep wearing outfits like this around me,” he gestures to your disarrayed button up and bra, “you’ll be surprised at what i’d be willing to do.”

“so, is this a good time to tell you that britney has other music video outfits that are just as iconic as this one?” you gleam up at him.

his eyebrows raise in curiosity, “it certainly would be. on a totally unrelated note, i’m parked right out front.” he half jokes as he pulls you off the counter towards the door. you giggle and follow blindly behind him, when your eyes draw to the back pocket of his trousers and you notice a flash of hot pink.

“spencer! my panties, oh my god. give them back.”

he looks over his shoulder at you, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he feigns. you roll your eyes and let him have it, totally ignoring the way he shoves the panties further down his pocket out of sight.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom

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lieslab · 1 month ago

Text

And at last I see the light

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Half-delirious and sick, you randomly tell Minho about your dream proposal and he takes notes.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I'm sappy and emotional. This was definitely inspired by Tangled. What can I say? I'm just a girl who cries easily and thinks about love a lot. Can a girl not ponder? Anyway, if you get choked up at proposals, grab a tissue or two.

_ _ _

The simple conversation was so long ago that you forgot about it. It was a brief moment in passing, just another random conversation, but Minho didn’t forget it. In fact, he’d been planning since then.

“If I were to propose to you, where would you want it and how would you want it done?”

The two of you were on opposite ends of the couch. Your body was heavy with the weight of a random stomach bug. Through the stomach aches and nausea, you were fading in and out of consciousness. Minho wanted to take you to your shared bed, but you refused. Too worried about making him sick, you opted to stay on the couch.

Every time he came close to you, you stubbornly held your breath and threatened to make yourself pass out. It was dramatic, but it wasn’t unusual for you, you always were. Too afraid of giving him the same bug, you did your best to keep your distance.

You didn’t get the exact wish you were hoping and praying for. At some point, you fell asleep and he covered you in a thick fleece blue blanket. A kiss was planted to the top of your sleeping temple before he strolled back over to the couch. He curled up on the other side and kept an eye on you.

The television was already on, but he twitched the show to something silly with cartoon characters. You needed your rest and he didn’t want you to wake up and stress out your brain by trying to follow along with a half-over plot. He picked out the most childish show and let it play.

When you woke up, you awoke to dancing shadows and the gentle vibrations of the leather couch. Across the way, Minho couldn’t help, but laugh at something that a character said. He grinned and kept his eyes on the flickering screen.

You caught his attention when you sleepily uttered his name. He quickly lowered the volume, got up, and rushed to get you water. You still refused to let him be too close, so all he could do was keep his distance and observe your stubborn self.

The conversations didn’t have a steady theme. He talked about one thing and then another. You jumped from topic-to-topic with him. You were about ready to fall asleep again when he asked you that question.

“Tangled,” you mumbled.

His eyebrows pinched together and he studied your face. Your sleepy eyes were half-lidded and a yawn tugged your mouth into a small o-shape. A smile grew on half of his face and he asked for clarification.

“The scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the gondola with the flying lanterns.”

“What about it?”

“Maybe not the gondola, but with the flying lanterns.” You nuzzled your head back against the cool leather. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful. It’d be the perfect memory.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, but you can’t propose to me when I’m sick. I don’t feel good and I think I’d throw up on your shoes. I think the lights would somehow make me nauseous.”

“You poor, poor thing,” he teased you.

“Mmhm. Poor me.” Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a sigh. He watched you slowly drift back to sleep with the cartoons long forgotten about. His brain went into overdrive that night.

Loving Minho was the easiest choice you ever made. From his quick wit to his loudness, it was the best choice. Not a single soul could compare and it was something you tried not to take for granted.

Whether it was arguing about who deserved the last pudding, or sitting in silence while Minho laid on your lap, your love was so simple. Life went on and the conversation erased from your brain, but it didn’t stop you from having moments when you watched him with a soft fondness.

Your body relaxed and inside your chest, your heart stuttered as your brain tried to capture those little moments. Sometimes, it was as simple as him leaning over the stove and stirring whatever dish he was trying to make. Other times, it was when he was bare faced and stretched out on the couch with one of his cats upon his lap.

His messy hair poked out in every direction from running his hand through it. After dance practice, his muscles ached and he just wanted to sit down and take a bit of time to relax. You usually joined him and crept over, snuggling beneath his arm to keep him warm. He’d whine and complain of your sudden presence, but he never pulled away.

He liked when you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. Just as you grew fond of him, he grew smitten with you. He joked that his love for you was like a pesky bunion that just wouldn’t go away.

Meanwhile, you compared it to wild mushrooms. You could try to stop loving him, but the love would keep sprouting up. Just when you thought there was nothing more to love, you’d turn your back for a brief moment and glance back to find another thing to love; another mushroom sprouted through damp soil.

Everything was warm and bright. In your eyes, everything was right and as the days turned into weeks, when those weeks burrowed into months, and began to roll into years, Minho knew he had you forever. He was going to take advantage of your sleepy-sick state and put his plans into action one day, but it never seemed like the right time. The two of you were always busy and time kept going, your love was an endless sea, but he wanted to make it truly official.

That wish came true when spring unveiled itself. With the chirping birds and baby bunnies, there was finally going to be a lantern festival. Rejuvenation, rebirth, and earth’s restoration; the perfect time to take the next step in your relationship.

“Wear something nice.”

“I always wear something nice.”

“Your constant state of sweatpants and hoodies says otherwise.”

“Fuck off!”

He just wanted you to look back at the video and be content with what you were wearing. The lantern festival was a rarity and you already had your best outfit picked out. You went through the entire routine of making yourself look good and then put it on.

It was a miracle that you didn’t notice the bouncing of his non-driving leg. He shifted in the seat a few times, but your nose was pressed against the passenger’s seat glass. You were going on and on about how excited you were for the festival, you always wanted to attend one.

You were unaware that the fate of your relationship sat in a small square box in Minho’s pocket. The weight of it in his pocket wasn’t much, but tonight, it felt like the ring he picked out was a thousand pounds. He kept glancing over at you and imagining what your face would look like. If it was ugly, he would be sure to tease you about it.

The two of you arrived twenty minutes before the lanterns were set to be released. Finding a parking space was difficult, but by some miracle, he managed to find an empty space to squeeze his car into. He grabbed your hand and headed to the area to grab a lantern.

“Are you getting one too?” You asked, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“No, I just want to watch you light and release yours. You’ve been wanting this, right? It’s your night to shine.”

“Well, yeah, but I thought you were going to do it with me.” You frowned and couldn’t hide the disappointment from your voice.

“Just don’t worry about it, have your fun.”

After grabbing the paper lantern with a tea light white candle tucked inside, Minho handed it to you. “Remember that you only get one wish, so use it well.” You playfully slapped his shoulder and took the lantern.

“Maybe I should wish for you to stop being a pain in my ass.”

“In your dreams.”

With one hand on the lantern and one hand in Minho’s, you began to lead him through the thicket of people. It seemed like everyone wanted to light and release a lantern too. Maybe it was the same reason as you, people wanted to make a wish. For others, it was a way to remember specific people and other loved ones.

No matter what the reason was, it made your heart swell with happiness. How human was it to long for peace? People had done this since the beginning of time and tonight wasn’t anything new.

Little did you know, Minho’s friend was tracking his location. The location sharing app had the exact path they were taking. A few people away, he silently followed with quiet footsteps. In his hand, the phone that’d be used to catch the proposal.

You wiggled through laughter and tears full of a yearning for loved ones. Tonight, no matter who was here, there was a sense of unity. You could feel the tethered string of your heart plucking at all the sights and sounds.

When you finally found a spot on a slight grassy hill, the two of you were only near a handful of people. Minho glanced over his shoulder and found his friend’s face in the reflection of a phone light. His friend quickly clicked off his phone, so he could stay hidden in the dark blanket of night.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked.

“I’m so excited!” You grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Ever since I watched Tangled for the first time, the floating lantern scene on the water has always been my favorite scene.”

“I’m sorry that we’re not on water.”

“Are you kidding me?” You scoffed. “Look at where we are! This is going to be so beautiful. It’s like we’re holding the stars tonight. For once, they won’t be in the sky, we’ll be capturing them and sending them back home.”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to get sappy over how excited you were. You were like a little kid as you rambled. Even in the dark, a nearby street light lit up the excitement in your eyes. He’d seen you excited before, but this was something entirely different.

His hand went into his pant’s pocket to make sure the ring was still there. His hand found the square leather box and his shoulders relaxed. He knew exactly how he’d do this, he was just hoping you’d say yes.

After a few minutes of talking, your arm shot out and you pointed across the way. “Look! It’s starting! We can light our lantern!”

Our lantern.

Minho said he wasn’t getting a floating lantern and instead of ignoring his words, you just assumed that the two of you could share the lantern instead. His heart ached with a love for you that he couldn’t understand sometimes. It was little things like that, it made him think he could love you until his heart gave out.

He reached into his other pocket, held out a lighter, and handed it to you. You held up the lantern and he hesitated. It was only after you nodded that he flicked the flame to life. He placed it back in his pocket and behind him, his friend came closer to record the moment.

“Come on, grab the lantern and make a wish.”

“But it’s your lantern.”

“Lee Minho, so help me, if you don’t grab on and make a wish with me...”

Across the way, flickering yellows and oranges began to fly higher in the sky. He grabbed the other side of the lantern and together, the two of you raised it higher and higher. After your arms couldn’t stretch anymore, your fingers let go.

You smiled as you watched it go further and further away. Above the people’s heads, above the buildings, and further and further into the night sky. Your eyes didn’t leave, even when it blended into a crowd of other lights.

Awe and endearment flooded the area. Shouts of joy and flickers of laughter. No matter what people wished tonight, for once, it felt like it’d be okay. Whatever hurt and whatever harm had touched people’s lives, tonight was the start of something different.

Every light had a story and each one was a flicker of hope. Into the air, into the sky, and over buildings. Tonight, you weren’t sure where your lantern would land, it’d be up to the universe to decide.

“So what’d you wish for?”

You began to spin around at the sound of Minho’s voice. “I wished for-” You gasped and a hand slammed over your mouth. A few feet away, Minho was down on one knee with a box holding a ring.

“Are you joking?” Your voice wobbled as you spoke. An emotional lump was forming in your throat. Tears blurred your eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” You vigorously nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “A thousand times yes!”

Before he could get up, you collapsed down beside him. He didn’t get a chance to speak because you threw your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head into the side of his neck as a choked out sob fell from your lips.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Why are you crying?”

“Because,” you weakly squeaked as you pulled away from his body. “This was my wish. I wanted our relationship to last forever.”

“I guess we both got our wishes tonight. My wish was that you’d say yes.” He chuckled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “Can we get up now? I’d like to make it official and put a ring on it.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled as you pulled your arms away. You allowed him to help pull you up. Your hand stuck out and he began to stick a ring on your finger.

“That might be true, but I’m your idiot.” He gently grabbed your ring finger and slid on the ring. “Now I’m your idiot forever. Come on, stop crying.” He wiped away more of your tears.

“I can’t help it, I’ve always dreamed of this. How’d you know this is what I wanted? The floating lights and everything?” Your eyes searched his, but all he offered with a soft hum and a shrug.

“Love is a mystery like that sometimes.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he slowly turned you around. “Let's watch the lanterns, shall we?” An arm wrapped around your shoulders.

With a final sniffle, you let your head lean against his shoulder. Everything was just as perfect as you’d imagine it to be. Nothing anyone could do would ever be able to top this moment.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and his friend gave him a thumbs up. He stopped the recording and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Tomorrow, Minho would make you watch the video and he’d tease you for your dramatic reaction.

Tonight, you were just two people whose wishes came true beneath floating lanterns and that was enough for him.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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demonvibez · 8 months ago

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Showering with Diavolo

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Rating: Mature/Explicit [MDNI] Tags: a lil fluff, unprotected penetration, outercourse, fangs/marking, gn body parts A/N: Received this request as a comment under this fic so of course I had to write a lil headcanon/drabble about my husband, lol. Anyways, hope y'all like this - I could go on about Showertime Dia forever ♡

-> Typically Lord Diavolo has to adhere to a very strict schedule, his life filled with routine. Sadly, his hygiene regiment is no different - quick fifteen minute showers, six days per week, with the exception of his weekly bubble bath.

-> Most of his showers are quite quick and methodical, starting with his hair and working his way to washing his body. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Barbatos is usually there to greet him with his towel and uniform, eager to get the Young Master's very busy day started.

-> He has probably been gifted every hair-care and body gel to ever exist in the Devildom. But instead, his favorite is one you gifted him, and he is sure to use it everyday. The moment the musky-amber scent hits his nostrils in the morning, it reminds him of you, and he just knows he'll have a good day that day.

-> On Saturday evenings, however, the Prince has a little more time to himself - he pours himself some Demonus and settles into his jacuzzi-style bathtub, the water jets melting away the week's worries.

-> He usually uses the time to catch up on whatever popular shows he's missed, the television in his bathroom being a new addition. You had given him this idea - you told him that 'even the future king needs a little bit of me time,' and he started crafting an Akuzon order almost immediately after you walked off to class.

-> He lets himself drift off into his own peaceful oasis - too often falling into slumber, as thoughts of you turn into dreams. Lately though, he can't help but to feel like something is missing - that sitting in this jacuzzi makes him feel a bit lonely.

♡ "If only you were here with me now," he whispers to himself, before letting out a sigh and sinking beneath the water's surface.

-> Luckily for Lord Diavolo, the stars would soon align in his favor, and the fates would push you two closer together. It all started on a camping trip with the usual crowd from RAD. Diavolo had volunteered to help you gather some firewood - a rather simple task, one would think. Instead this task ended with the two of you running into a pack of wild hellhounds, and getting pushed into a mud pit while attempting to play with them. Barbatos looked rather perturbed when he saw the two of you arrive back at camp, but you assured him that everything was fine. 'Come on, let's get cleaned up,' you say with a smirk to a slightly shocked (and very giddy) Diavolo, your fingers entwining with his as you pull him towards the camp showers.

-> He isn't usually a shy demon, but when it comes to stripping down and getting into this shower with you, he can't seem to keep the blush on his face under control. What started as a nice shower together, washing each other's hair and giggling as you splash each other, ends with the two of you in a passionate embrace. With your legs wrapped around his torso, your lips collide as the cool shower's water cascades down Diavolo's toned back. It definitely would have gone further, had the two of you not been interrupted by Mammon and Levi banging on the door. (He did invite you back to his tent afterwards, so the night was not completely lost. Mammon and Levi were also lectured by Lucifer, 'for their shame and disrespect' as he puts it - but that's a different story.)

-> Ever since that night on the camping trip, your relationship has blossomed, and the two to of you spend as much time together as possible. You usually alternate between staying over with each other - most of the time you go over to stay with him in the Castle, but every now and then you are able to convince Lucifer that the House is clean enough for your Royal Boyfriend to spend the night.

-> The first time he stays over, of course the two of you shower together! You ask him if you should text Barbatos to bring over some of his shower supplies, but Diavolo insists on using yours, excited to smell like your signature scent for the rest of the day. He'll always insist on using your products - a light breeze of that scent helps him get through those endless meetings! (Although it does tend to make his mind wander...)

♡ Showers with Diavolo are always a mix of spontaneous and sensual. One moment you're splashing each other with soap suds, playing 'keep away' with the loofah…the next he has you pinned to the wall, unable to resist the way you look up at him, and he can't stop his lips from crashing onto yours.

♡ It doesn't take much effort for him to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as the shower rains down onto the both of you - and now you can finally finish what the two of you started on that night camping; what Diavolo has been fantasizing about ever since. Your hands slide his damp crimson hair back out of his face, gripping it in the back as your tongues collide. You can feel Dia's thick throbbing cock teasing you, and all you can do is grind against him.

♡ He slides into you so effortlessly - as if you were made for him. Your arousal made you putty in his hands, your tight little hole adjusting to him after only a moment - but you still couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size, your eyes widening at the sensation.

♡ Every thrust in this position feels new, an unfathomable pleasure previously undiscovered. A new high, with no sight of the top. Each stroke hits so deeply within you with an electric feel, the rush of pleasure getting sent up to your brain, overstimulating all of your senses. The euphoria continues to build, and you don't know if it will ever end - if the tension will ever snap.

♡ The rising pleasure within you is starting to overwhelm you, having never felt so full before. Just when you thought you couldn't handle much more, the Prince slides one of his hands down to your sex, massaging you in tandem with his pace. Your nails dig into the flesh of his muscular shoulders as he finally pushes you over the edge. He finds himself following suit not long after, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him making him unable to hold back any longer.

♡ Both of your moans fill the air as you ride out your climax together. Gasping for air, you hear a knock on the glass of the shower's door - you were so wrapped up in this moment together that neither of you heard Barbatos enter the bathroom. He waited until it sounded as though the two of you were finished before he interrupted your 'shower' - and now he's reminding you of the Young Master's busy schedule for today in a scolding tone, as he holds out towels for you both. Oops.

-> Anyways, you also love spending weekends at the Castle with him - it's easier to flow with his schedule that way. And of course Diavolo is going to invite you to his Saturday night soak; you're his favorite human, his lover, his partner…and it was originally your idea, in the first place!

-> Just know that this demon spent extensive time planning out your first bubble bath together - he had to pull out all of the stops!

-> The Friday morning beforehand, Barbatos comes in to wake up his Young Prince, only to find him already awake and making a rather large Akuzon order on his DDD. Scented candles, chocolate covered hellberries, vintage spirits - he was even considering calling in one of his favors to see if he could get some Celestial bubble bath expedited from the angelic realm. Cost is of no issue to him, wanting nothing more than to ensure the night's success. Barbatos scolds him several times throughout the day, the Prince seemingly distracted and prioritizing his night in with you over his paperwork.

-> When the time comes to set everything up, Diavolo insists on doing everything himself. He even threatens bribes Barbatos into going to Purgatory Hall for the evening - all so that he can do it all alone, eager to show you how much he cares about you. He has a brief moment of doubt as some of the Celestial bubble bath accidentally overflows onto the floor...but you're worth it, and he finishes fixing it all up right as you ring the front entrance anyways.

-> The scene set in his bathroom is so romantic, you wonder for a moment if you're actually in a movie. Abyss flower petals scattered around the floor. Candles set around the tub, the flickering glow dancing against the bathroom's tiles. Scented bubbles gently fizzing and popping, the light aroma filling the air and instantly making you feel relaxed. A bottle of champagne, specially ordered from the human realm, and set in an enchanted bucket of ice next to two hell-crystal champagne flutes. And your gorgeous Demon Prince standing in front of you, gently grabbing your hand to press his lips to your knuckles before he leads you over to the tub. If this is a dream, you definitely don't want to wake up...

-> After the two of you disrobe, you settle into the jacuzzi, and Diavolo gets you each a glass of champagne right after he presses the button to start up the water jets.

♡ It doesn't take much bubbly for the two of you to find yourselves in another heated moment - but the truth was, neither of you could hardly wait to jump the other from the moment you entered the bath's warm water. And now you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his huge throbbing cock, the feeling of it filling you surprising you yet again. Every new position with the Prince feels like new territory, the way he strokes so deeply within you. Making you feel things you never have before - hitting spots you didn't know existed. This type of adventurous pleasure could become addicting...

♡ His golden eyes smolder with lust as he watches you, every gasp that escapes your lips pushing him closer and closer. Your little human hands grip at his scalp as his own fingers sink into the flesh of your hips. His lips find your neck, and his kisses gradually turn into light love bites, his fangs nipping little marks onto your skin as he thrusts up into you.

♡ "So good...all mine," he mumbles possessively against your neck.

♡ Your moans grow louder as Diavolo starts thrusting faster, taking the reigns as you let the building bliss take over your senses. He pulls away from you to see the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as his hand glides down to your sex, massaging you in that spot that he knows drives you absolutely wild. Consumed by pleasure, that warm feeling of euphoria washes over you, your orgasm making you feel weightless in Diavolo's muscular arms.

♡ He's not done with you yet though - not even close. Switching positions, he picks you up in his arms and sets you down on the recessed bench in his bathtub. His hand grips under your thigh and pushes your leg up, a groan escaping his lips as he slides himself back into you. It had been merely a few moments, yet he had already missed the feeling of your tight warmth squeezing him so perfectly.

♡ He thrusts into you roughly and suddenly, the bath's water splashing and rippling against his gorgeous caramel skin with each stroke. You hadn't even come down from the high of your first orgasm, still feeling the aftershocks as Diavolo begins to fuck you faster and faster.

♡ Losing all restraint, his demon form slips out only a few moments before he hits his climax, causing his cock to grow even bigger. Your eyes widen as you feel him, his wings outstretched as he fills you with his royal seed - and you can't help but to join him, your orgasm overtaking you as well.

♡ Both panting for air, he picks you up and sits down with you in his lap, still throbbing deeply within you. He wraps his arms around you to hold you as you both catch your breath. Neither of you can help the smiles plastered across your faces, that blissful feeling still remaining as you sit with him in his loving embrace. Your cheek rests against his chest as his rests on top of your head, and he just knows that this is the happiest he's ever been in his long, demonic life.

-> Afterwards, as the two of you get ready for bed, Diavolo can't help the way his heart swells when he sees the way you've settled into his room. The way your things line the counter of his sink. The way you go to his wardrobe to retrieve your pajamas, instead of your bag. It's almost as if you live here in this Castle with him already - a thought as sweet as candy for the Young Devildom Prince.

-> And as you lay there snuggled up in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, Diavolo contemplates asking you to move in with him right then and there. But you've already drifted off to sleep, so that will have to wait for another time. Looking down at you lovingly, his heart feels so full - he presses a kiss to the top of your head before laying back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.

♡ "I love you so much," he whispers as he drifts off into his own slumber. With you in his arms and in his dreams, the Future Demon King can't help but to smile in his sleep.

· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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tootiecakes234 · 9 months ago

Text

Aged up Characters

MDNI: smutty

Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.

He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.

But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.

He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.

He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.

You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”

He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”

“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”

“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.

“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”

“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”

“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.

Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.

“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.

“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.

“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.

“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.

When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”

“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”

“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”

Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”

“Get to the point you terrible man”

He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.

This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭

*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines

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luminatricky · 3 months ago

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Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

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

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

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

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 months ago

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CREATURE COMMANDOS (DCU - animated)

—

“A Call To Motion” or Going to Carnival w/ The Creatures Commandos (Creature Commandos x Fem!Reader)

| Headcanons

| CHARACTERS: FLAG, BRIDE, PHOSPHOROUS, NINA, G.I. (platonic), WEASEL (platonic).

| SFW, 18+, minors dni, mission, team dynamics, fluff, caribbean setting, dancing, referenced sex (TW: stalking, murder, animal death) - monster!reader & caribbean!reader

| 6k+ words (some of which is a 900+ word mini fic w/ Phosphorus)

RICHARD “RICK” FLAG SR.

Rick should absolutely not be allowing you to do this, but he can’t take his eyes off you anyway.

There’s something mesmerizing about how you move to the music around you, the island’s atmosphere seeming to have rejuvenated you significantly. It’s like you were made of the sun, it seeps into the pretty brown of your skin like a homecoming and the way you bask in its warmth and smile takes his breath away.

Flag is old and more than a little jaded, taking his breath away — let alone getting him to start waxing fucking poetic — wasn’t easy. Why, then, you’re able to do it without so much as trying is something he can’t mentally grasp.

He can’t be too mad when you’re still clearly doing your job, though. Even with you singing loudly to every single song. Flag doesn’t even want to know how you know the newer tracks at all, let alone well enough to not be missing any words and wining your waist in time enough to be hitting every single beat.

And he is watching close enough to tell. He tells himself it’s because you’re too much of a wildcard this mission — on this island — but he’s hardly convincing himself. Feigning ignorance is his best bet anyway, even if he is kind of worried about whether he’ll have to bury your headless body in an unmarked grave because you slipped away using familiar pathways you grew up trekking he had no chance of knowing.

Regardless, even with you being covered enough to hide the monstrous parts of your appearance, very little about the way you’re dancing leaves much for his imagination to do. The way your ass pops, the freedom in your movements, the surety in your performance, it’s all like catnip to him.

Even in tactical gear you’re still working him up. Even though you were one of his goddam charges and he was too old to be acting like his love struck son did with that June Moon chick, too old to be falling for a woman who gave him nothing but shit consistently and who’d tried to claw him to death on their first mission the first time you and him fought together.

You were a lot of other things too, however: the first one to save him from an explosion, the first to earnestly ask for his help despite how begrudging you’d obviously been, someone who let him rant about shit without telling the others, who lit up so fantastically at certain things it made him feel a little lighter himself, the woman outcasted from your place of birth that talked him into (ie: verbally tore him apart) finally going to visit Rick’s grave at his, and you’re accent was like fucking silk. So really, who could blame him if he was falling a little in love?

A lot of people, but he’s choosing to ignore that.

Really, there’s better things he could be watching so closely. G.I. was one, he was always one, and Eric was unpredictable and volatile enough Flag was convinced he needed to be watched even closer than Weasel. Or maybe he could even be paying more attention to the literal mission they were on, but still it was you who’d captured his attention the most.

After he catches himself and realizes he’s been ogling you silently for the better part of five minutes he doesn’t watch you as closely as he genuinely wants to. You’re both not dancing for him and are supposed to be working, he needs to get himself under control.

Rick wants to keep his eyes on you, though, and has definitely been letting himself get dragged along in this game of push and pull that you're playing with him.

Jesus fucking Christ if Waller could see him now…

Because of you making a point to stare him down, raise a brow, and then step into the collective mass of dancing bodies to wukup and jam and sing in a shadowy part of the area — getting even closer to where their primary target was throwing back shots surrounded by a wall of women, and basically daring Rick to stop you if he thought he was big and bad enough — Rick ends up taking his frustration out on everyone else on the team.

You’re taking risks, but he can’t deny that even in between your singing the intel you're giving him is good. Plus, you didn’t want anything major going down in your home island any more than Rick did; more so than he did, even. So all he can do is redirect his frustration at you not following his instruction and potentially putting yourself in danger.

Rick wishes he could feel half of what you’re feeling. That he could enjoy the music shaking his teeth and feel the freedom you clearly do in your movements and in being surrounded, however briefly, by your people even ostracized as you now were as a “creature”.

Instead of that he’s been tasked to lead. He might not have you back under control yet — he’ll get to wrangling you back into working if you don’t do so yourself, but he wants you to enjoy the reprieve for now — but he can nitpick the hell out of everyone’s positions until he’s got a cacophony of people bitching and groaning in his ears and his lips are twitching up into less of a frown as he keeps half an eye on you.

Though nothing gets him as close to smiling as when you finally deem yourself satisfied (or as satisfied as you’re ever going to get as a imprisoned woman who’ll never be able to go anywhere uncovered lest she incite a mob) and slide up to him. You don’t do anything so transparent as laugh or cheer, but you do grin at him — your pretty brown eyes nice and wild — and for a second Rick feels himself grinning back.

THE BRIDE

The Bride is the main recipient of your uncharacteristically excited rambling (or uncharacteristically happy grumbling, depending on your personality), but that soft spot she has for you keeps her drawn in to listening to you talk yourself breathless instead of doing her usual and sleeping through the flight to Waller’s next suicide mission.

After you land and the two of you have been left more or less alone while the others stick closer to and/or bother Flag, you tell her all about your plans to slack off a little this go around. How you’re going to milk as much fun out of the Carnival experience as you can before you’re forced to wheel yourself back in.

When you ask that Bride please just let you have a little fun and not tattle, she scoffs. For one, she’s not a fucking child, she doesn’t tattle. For two, she wasn’t your keeper, so long as you kept out of trouble and didn’t get in her way she didn’t care what you got up to.

Except she’d really really hate to see you popped, actually.

The Bride is a bit flattered that you thought to consider her in your plans and that you wanted to ask her permission. She still thinks you're an absolute fucking idiot to risk yourself over something so small, though, don’t get her wrong. Even if she’s got little to stand on with her judgement there.

As far as you’re concerned there was little point in taking these missions if you weren’t going to maximize your “freedom” from Blackgate while it lasted.

Honestly it had been just your luck that this week’s mission from Waller had sent you to this part of the Caribbean during Carnival at all. Even if it wasn’t where you were from, the island and her festivities would surely be enjoyable regardless.

That your main goal for the majority of the first and second nights was recon and observation was an even better plus. Now you didn’t even need to sneak off.

It doesn’t take long for The Bride to be reminded of why she’s kept away from sandy areas in the last several decades. Sand was a bitch to get out of her stitches.

While you’re doing recon Bride just disinterestedly watches you dance around her and drinks from the almost comically small glass of spiked slushie in her hand, little green paper umbrella and all. She has like seven of these and isn't even near tipsy, and for someone who is trying to get drunk that tendency of her metabolism is really getting irritating.

The fact she lets you near her at all isn’t permission in and of itself to stay by her while you act a fool. Bride tolerates your presence just fine on a regular basis, but that was it. When she sees you vibrating where you stand, softly singing along to familiar songs you haven’t heard in years while bouncing in place to the beat, and then gestures halfheartedly in front of her where people are jamming all while raising a brow at you, though, that’s permission. Hell, it’s practically an invitation.

One that you take her up on very vigorously at that. Nina might be shaking head at the two of you, but you can see her hiding a little giggle when you start playing around while you dance regardless. And if it gets a little scoff out of Bride then that’s just a happy bonus.

You’re not going to act like coming down here to have fun wasn't your main goal. The second you’re out of Flag’s sight you start blowing the mission off. Of course you keep a passing track of your targets, but with the mission only being about observing the assholes you think it’s only fair you get to do something entertaining enough that you don’t die of boredom.

You wukup not because you have to, but because you want to. And you do it near where Bride’s leant against the counter of a pop-up bar because you want to too; want her to notice you, maybe make a move.

After all you guys were in lock up, not a nunnery.

You pull out every trick in the book that still flatters your inhuman body, letting the soca beats flow through you like a woman starved all the while, and if it weren’t for Bride’s occasional grunts in reaction to something you’ve done you’d think it wasn’t having any effect at all.

Internally Bride is a lot more invested in what you're doing than even you can tell, and definitely more than the bloody mission you're on. She just makes a good show of seeming like she isn’t.

The only bearable thing about the heat that saw Bride ditching her jacket in the vehicle Flag drove them in was the salt twinged breeze blowing through the short buildings with their colorfully tiled roofs. The fact that you were showing as much skin as you could get away with due to the heat wasn’t lost on her either.

Bride finds a beauty in you she hasn’t seen in anyone since Victor. A beauty that’s brought back to life some of the bits of her that died with her creator, and brings technicolor back to the bits of her that turned dull and grey as Eric continued his relentless pursuit of her.

She couldn’t deny you your whims or resist your draw if she wanted to.

The way her heart speeds up when you crack a joke about a song’s lyrics or a singer's entrance, and how she has to bite her tongue so she doesn’t laugh too obviously. The full on blush she sports when you start dancing with some drunk man in a way he clearly likes but only look her way as you work your waist in his hold, and how she wants to snap all of his fingers and wrench his hands off of you. All of that lets Bride know she’s in trouble and you’re liable to be caught in a crossfire that's been brewing for over a century.

She’s going to have to push you away soon, but ‘soon’ didn’t have to be tonight.

It’s one of the world’s most dangerous games of chicken, working around Eric Frankenstein’s unwanted possessiveness of The Bride. You’re fully aware he’s watching you and Bride too, you just don’t give a shit. Voyeuristic jackass.

Part of you likes antagonizing him.

Revels in the fact that he can’t kill you as easily as he’d like and the fact that you and the man both know it. That you were barely asking for Bride’s attention and she was willingly offering it when years worth of groveling for her attention yielded nothing for him but a fist to the face.

Every time Victor Frankenstein’s Monster comes into view and Bride clocks him lurking (and trying to set you in particular on fire with his gaze) she scoffs and makes a point of putting her back to him and moving you in the process.

It probably makes Eric blue vex every single time The Bride touches you just enough to nudge you from his view.

Bride is more gentle than she needs to be when she steps in closer to you and uses her knee to nudge you in the hip — she does it so softly, in fact, that you don’t fully comprehend her urging you to the side, it’s so out of character with what you’re used to from her, and just move.

Bride is quite fond of how easily you move at her prompting, reluctant as she is to admit it. Still, after she gets you to move, she backs back up to give you space again.

You mourn the way she towers over you in those scant few seconds. Like how harmless it makes you feel, how wholly encompassed by her presence you are, how much of her undivided attention is on you.

Despite everything Bride likes to watch, and it’s clear you're putting on a show for her even though she can’t indulge either of your desires.

You are most definitely not as on high alert as you should be as you’re jamming and singing along to the live band them, but with Bride specifically at your back you couldn’t find it in you to feel unprotected. Bride was quick on the response, and there’d never been a time when you two were working together that she’d been laid out by a hit for long (especially if there wasn’t magic involved).

Bride notices how forlornly you stare at the women still in their colorful Carnival gear from the earlier parades and snags you a feather that matches the only accent color on your mostly all black uniform.

When you preen at her she grumbles to herself, brushing your thanks off, but you hardly let that stop you and start talking away about the importance of the feathers as you finally slip from the crowd to get back to work. And Bride let’s you.

You might want to fuck around with Eric’s self control, but The Bride knows what will happen and that’s a lot of the reason why she won’t show any obvious interest in you. Quite frankly it’s mostly the fact that you’re a woman that’s letting her have as much contact with you (and Nina) as she has because he hasn’t figured out that was an option Bride would go for, and she’d like to keep it that way.

In the end you all survive. Although, she has picked up a few more worries, most pressing being that you seem to enjoy egging Eric on and that she thinks smug looks quite sexy on you.

Once you’re all back in your cell block and she starts complaining about there still being sand in between her damned stitches she can’t help but grow a bit more smitten with you when you pull her grumpy ass to a bench and get to meticulously ridding her of any remaining granules.

‘Soon’ would have to wait another day more to come.

DR PHOSPHORUS | ALEXANDER SARTORIUS

Phosphorus wants to touch you so badly. He’s not blind, he can see all the ways everyone else is dancing together and he wants to get up underneath you like that, to feel your hips against his; for a second, honestly, he does consider it but he already knows what will happen so he doesn’t give in to the urge.

He’s not in any particular rush to get the shit knocked out of him today, or to honestly fight you.

It’s still decidedly entertaining to think about what he’d be doing if he could touch you though, if he could plant his hands on your hips without your flesh boiling beneath his touch cause he’s too excited to temper himself— and a little entertaining to think about what would happen if he touches you in reality, but really he can’t be blamed for mere curiosity. It couldn’t be helped.

Phosphorus likes you too much to actually want to hurt you anyway, just obviously not enough to stay away from you or stop managing to share close quarters with you (yes, even when you’re asleep).

He used to be far more considerate about things like that, he knows. Everything is just too distorted now, the man he was too purposefully forgotten to drag back up.

If he can’t touch you (even when his temperature control is stable) he figures he should at least be able to watch you as much as possible. The good thing about not having visible eyes, too, was that he could keep his gaze on you all the time and no one could call him out on it.

Phosphorus loves whenever you feel his gaze on you and turn your pretty head to glance around. Loves the little twitch of unease you give when you can’t quite figure out that he’s watching you out of the corner of his eyes, and just generally being able to catalog all your reactions and micro expressions to what’s going on around you guys without you noticing.

So you can imagine how much Phosphorus takes in his visual fill when you start bouncing in place while you guys are on lookout together; keeping the perimeter secure around your group of targets, making sure no one was unaccounted for, and the like.

You always operate particularly gingerly around him (so long as the mutation that made you into a monster didn’t make you impervious to long exposure to radiation) — an effect on you Phosphorous doesn’t fail to revel in; it makes him smile a lot when you tense around him, though you obviously can’t tell — and so he completely forgets about bothering to pretend he cares about the mission you’re on when you start tapping your finger on the handle of your weapon or tapping your hand on the side of your thigh.

If the tapping took him by surprise, then the way you start bouncing on the balls of your feet in time with the beat pounding around you makes him choke on nothing. You notice, and boy does he like the way it makes you startle, but the great thing about getting turned into the absolute freak of nature that he is now is that not having expressions for people to read makes them more likely to dismiss what his opinions on little things like being caught doing something mildly embarrassing might be.

You go back to ignoring him easier than most would assume and get lost back in your head when a song you clearly recognize starts playing and you start singing along. Automatically Phosphorus pays more attention to the punchy beats and slick lyrics, but it’s not his kind of music and there’s too much about the dialect he doesn’t understand so he dismisses it quickly as a ‘you thing’ and just raises his brow, smirking as he listens to you.

Even strapped securely in gear and covered in fur or scales or whatever your body’s still killer and a sight to behold when you finally start to move your hips. And when your ass starts to circle he isn’t ashamed to say he doesn’t look away.

Although your movements are subtle he’s enraptured anyway.

Everything about the way you’ve acted since you got to the Caribbean has been telling and after such a show Phosphorus kind of wants to know more. If only because it’s you and because he is bored.

It’s…rare for him to find himself legitimately interested in anybody anymore. Let alone the way he desires you, the way he wants to keep you. A lot of him doesn’t really want to succumb to that seeming howling need — the need to find connection in you, to touch, to possess. The parts of him he’d thought completely eradicated after his “incident” weren’t giving him much of a choice in the matter, though.

—

When he leans back into the wall behind him and its peeling colorful paint, he crosses his arms, gives up any pretense of caring about his mission parameters, and stares at your ass.

Wining your waist. That’s what you're doing if the punchy instructions to the song currently blasting through the night air are to be believed, and he likes it.

Phosphorus starts bouncing one of his legs some with the beat, too. In tandem with your sway and bounce.

He clears his throat.

“So, what’s all this for anyway?”

“…what…?”

At first when you turn to him it’s rather absent, you’re still noticeably trying to keep an ear out for the live bands and bask in the lively chatter surrounding you both from below. Once you clock his leant position and the angle of his head your mood shifts entirely, however.

You stand up taller, glaring, and Phosphorus shivers at all that undivided attention of yours trying to pin him in place.

It wouldn’t work. Far more intimidating people have tried to ‘put him in his place’ or have attempted even dumber shit like trying to ‘appeal to his humanity or humility’ before and it’s yet to work out for any of them.

Wouldn’t work with you either, didn’t matter how much he couldn’t get enough of those dark eyes staring directly at him. Part of him wants to pluck those pretty brown cognacs out to wear around a chain. He won’t, but your eyes were their own type of diamonds he desperately wanted to preserve in a collection.

“…Were you just staring at my ass?”

Phosphorus gasps, jerks himself upright.

He makes a show of acting like he’s about to refute you, like he could never. Like he’s about to go ‘that’s presumptive’ and give you shit about not considering the fact that he’s visually a glow in the dark skeleton. Walking, talking, and killing, sure, but still with no discernible features.

He puts his hand over his heart for a second and everything.

Really, though, he’s just giving you a performance so you keep glaring at him.

“Spit it out already,” you snap.

The walking radiation bomb laughs. He does wave his act off still, leaning forward just to watch you jerk away in response to heat he’s only mostly keeping at bay— you could technically touch him right now if you wanted, but Phosphorus isn’t holding his breath.

“Alright alright,” he says, laughing lowly to himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets so he can shrug. “I was totally watching, you have a nice ass.”

There’s a herculean effort that goes into you not knocking him down two stories, he can see it in your body language.

“You’re going to stop watching,” you declare, the growl in your voice prominent.

He shrugs, gives less grief to you for ordering him around than he would anyone else still currently breathing, “Fair enough.”

Phosphorus would, however, absolutely be in mourning over it.

When you close in on him, Phosphorus lets his back flatten against the wall where he wouldn’t in any other situation. Let’s himself bend for you that tiny bit more. He wants to see what you’ll do. To know how far he can push you.

He smiles. You clearly don’t notice. He doesn’t mind.

You bare your teeth— they’re sharp and he suddenly wants to feel them breaking his irradiated skin, “What is it that you want, Doctor?”

Doctor. Jesus Christ, he’d moan if he didn’t know that’d really make you throw him off the roof.

Phosphorus didn’t have much of an attachment to his old professional standing, and for good fucking reason, but something about how your voice wraps around such a respectful moniker in reference to him always makes him a little lightheaded.

Head tilting, he holds a finger up to point back to the expanse of writhing bodies beyond the roof.

“Well I did ask earlier.”

The fact that you don’t buss him upside the head is more a testament to your own patience — and no doubt your ability to bid your time — and less so Phos’s powers, especially since he’s not even using them.

You do spend the rest of the time explaining Carnival to him, but he’s not really listening. Not to your words.

He gets the vibe that you’re aware of his actual disinterest for your answers considering your monotone delivery. The whole time it’s like you’re being forced to give a middle school presentation with a gun to your head and Phosphorus doesn’t even mind because what he’s focused on is the tones of your voice, the restless shift of your body when a song comes on you’d clearly like to be paying more attention to, how you force him pettily to focus on the actual content of your words as you explain emancipation and why everything is so goddamned brightly colored.

The fact that he’s stealing your attention makes him deliciously frustrated. Phosphorus stands there for most of the night and learns more than he cares to while basically preening under your gaze the entire time. Hell, he nearly melts into a puddle when his eyes wander (his head tilting in response) to one of your targets leaving the perimeter and you grasp him by the jaw tight enough to ache. Forcing his attention back your way like you need his eyes on you just as badly as he does yours.

He wants to touch you. Wants to massage the plush of your ass, and rub you to completion until he gets tears to spring in your eyes and he aches for more. Wishes for certain nerves back for the first time in forever just so he can shove himself down your throat and come undone without burning his way through.

Subsequently, however, he’ll have to settle for your passive aggressive lecturing and relishing in the blood splatter from the way you pop the head of you two’s wayward target.

He kind of loves it.

Pain at picking back up that emotion relative to someone else again be damned.

NINA MAZURSKY | MERMAID

Even despite the fact that you’re still working, Nina keeps feeling the need to remind you to stay on task or else you could meet your impending doom from the bomb implanted in your neck.

It’s a real bummer, you tell her to live a little.

Despite her words, though, Nina both loves the more water based mission and loves listening to you talk about the place you grew up in. She hangs onto your every word and every anecdote you make about how free everything felt back when you were home and about how much you miss the smell of the sea. Nina gets missing the water, it might not be life and death for you but she still understands being homesick (and the bone deep longing for certain environments).

If there’s anyone on the team you’re roping into dancing with you, it’s Nina. She definitely expresses her concern about disappearing from the outskirts of the crowd where Flag can’t see you and into an alleyway of sorts, but you suck your teeth and toss out that there’s trackers literally implanted in your bodies as you drag her away.

She bitches the whole time but never once resists your lax hold or walks back to her post once you let her hand go.

The sea creature only occasionally bumps into anyone or is bumped into herself, and apologizes excessively all while looking at you bouncing effortlessly between people and turning back to smile at her every once in a while.

The two of you get stares, there’s no avoiding it when you resemble creatures out of a horror novel, but most everyone is far too intoxicated to dwindle on your appearances as you find someplace less crowded and with a bit more privacy.

When you finally convince Nina to dance with you — after urging her to relax with soft looks as you project your voice over the music to talk her through it and hold out your hands for her to grab — she starts off slowly, cringing at herself as she tries to find the rhythm.

It’s hard when she’s watching your hips to do it, trying to copy how you move your waist without being reduced to a stammering mess. She gulps and blushes through it, her steps stuttering as she slowly catches on to your movements and starts engaging her waist in a circular motion to wine, her eyes wide.

It’s a thing of beauty watching Nina let herself go loose. It takes what feels like forever, but once she starts shyly copying your movements — less a wine, more a sway of her hips side to side — Nina glances up to you with a wide smile, lashes fluttering as she looks for your approval, and for a moment you feel faint.

The both of you have a great time, though. Giggling and dancing and playing around over the sounds of music and people. And with Bride keeping a lookout for you, you don’t have to worry about people stumbling on your or Flag cutting your two person party short.

Only one person causes any actual problem for you both that night, actually. The culprit: some woman who thought you were eyeing her dude as they were walking past you and Nina, too drunk to realize that your tree wasn’t one she wanted to bark up.

When she turns to call you out, yelps as her eyes widen in fear and then snaps out a startled call of “freak” you’re already rolling your eyes. Once her man starts trying to start some shit too, puffing up his chest and staring at you and Nina like you’re evil you figure you’re going to end the night pissed off too. It’s not you who shuts them down, though; no, it’s Nina who tentatively pulls you behind her and then starts clumsily chewing the couple out for being stupid presumptive assholes.

Eventually you end up having to knock them out, Nina letting out a squeak of surprise as they both crash to the ground. While Nina angry is really doing it for you and you’re flattered that she’s come to your defense, if they got any louder you’d get people’s attention and that was the last thing either of you needed.

Nina’s gloved fists are balled tightly once the couple is no longer an issue and you run your hands over them until she relaxes. She apologizes profusely, flushing, but you wave her off and make her flush worse when you compliment her on her mean streak.

After having watched Nina promptly pepper they raas you’d swear your pupils had turned into hearts if you didn’t know any better. It’s like Bride can see them anyway when she snorts and rolls her eyes at you two when ayo finally emerge from the alley to get back to work.

By the end of the mission Nina’s relaxed again, has acquired plenty of beaded necklaces that she’s bunched along her arms and desperately wants to try conch after watching it be prepared for fritters through a food truck's back window. The fried food itself wasn’t necessarily what she was interested in, though you did seem to enjoy the basket you snatched. Nina more so wants to get in the sea to taste them more sashimi style (but without the rice).

Nina also has to admit that she absolutely loves the availability of sea water right off of the house that was rented for the team to recuperate in.

When you sneak out to the beach just beyond your home base you’re in a bathing suit that makes Nina stutter and fully prepared to relax in the sand with a towel until the sun comes up.

Still, you relegate an hour or so to getting into the water with Nina. Marveling some at just how sure and competent she was in the ocean.

In the cover of night you guys can just exist without having to worry about people getting in your way. Can just freely be the ‘monstrous’ creatures you now are for this short amount of time.

Eventually everyone else trickles out of the house with similar ideas of enjoying the beach, even Flag, but Nina doesn’t mind. She just stays lurking in the water, her gums itching for blood in a way she can actually satisfy for once.

There’s no judgement in your eyes when she attacks a fish, your eyes just glitter and you move easily to share some sugar apple you plucked from a tree on your way back to base with her, wiping off the trail of blood coming from her mouth.

She lets you feed her the sweet creamy fruit, looking you in the eyes without the bowl as a barrier for once as her heart pounds a mile a minute in her chest. This is one of the better days of her life, and she tells you as much.

When you smile at her you're more captivating than the stars. When you tell her you're glad and that you agree, especially because she’s here with you, while running the pad of your finger over one of the fins atop her head she shivers and aches for a press of your lips to hers that’s way softer than a bite.

G.I. ROBOT

“Friend Y/n, is visibly excited; is it because there are a lot of Nazis where we’re going?” “—No! No, definitely not. There’s no Nazis there, G.”

Or, at least, not any you knew of (anything was possible and people came from everywhere). Certainly not enough people that were gonna be in the J’ouvert and Carnival crowds to justify letting G.I. get too excited about it.

G.I. doesn’t understand your excitement but he’s not going to begrudge you it or anything either.

In fact, I think G.I. would ask you questions about everything (so long as he saw you as a friend and not just as a handler of some sort).

You’re eager to answer him, eyes bright while you talk as you look him in the face. When he scans you and all signs point to you being happy G.I. feels a small sense of satisfaction at having helped.

When a group of people shove past you to get to the nighttime Carnival activities, you grunt as you’re checked and have to bite back the urge to yell at them and draw attention to G.I. and you. Instead you settle for glaring at them and cussing them out stink under your breath. Your irritation obviously doesn’t go unnoticed by G.I. — even if he wasn’t personally bothered by the shoves — and he offers to get rid of them for you if it will make you feel better. He shifts his hand into his usual embedded gun and all.

It’s such an insane thing to offer, but so true to the robot, that you snort and are knocked out of your angry ranting entirely. You redirect him after that, reaching up to fix the hood of his hoodie where it was pushed back and concealing his head back in its shadows.

G.I.’s eyes still glow red in the shroud of darkness and you tell him it looks sick as fuck before ayo go back to monitoring the parimeter as the rest of the team calls out updates about where the targets are.

After that you start back up telling him about the islands. You miss being home, miss the food, miss feeling the wind blow through your tight curls and dressing up in your feathers and jewels to ramp up and down while wukkin’ up your waist with no abandon. Hell, even now you can’t participate in Carnival and you fucking hate that.

G.I. doesn’t like how upset you are even if he can’t quite articulate how to help. Eventually he settles on asking why you can’t just dance while you’re with him since the music is loud enough to hear from your positions.

Reluctantly, you agree. Once you start dancing as you walk with him you’re far less grumpy though, laughing to yourself as you explain your moves to him while he silently studies you.

When you take one of his hands in yours while you’re patrolling in order to bounce his hand off your own to the beat, he only stares at you. He doesn’t object though and takes to inquiring about some of the more confusing (to him) lyrics in the songs and even starts humming along to the music with you as you dance around him.

He’s got the spirit.

You guys are dragged away before you can sneak off to the food trucks and food stands by the time the first leg of the team’s recon wraps up. To your utter mortification you can feel your lip quiver in your disappointment and keep to yourself more than usual the entire way back to home base, G.I. sitting beside you in the van.

It isn’t until you guys are parked outside the house you’re renting and you two are left in the van last that G.I. shifts and holds his hand out. In it sits a little cup of pastry and jammed fruit. And, yeah, the tart he’d snatched for you just came from his hand but you giggle and eat it anyway, moving to hug him from the side before you do.

G.I. can’t smile, but he does actively lean into your embrace and you take that as expression enough.

WEASEL

Because of the flight risk you present since the Commandos’ next mission is on the island you were born on during one of the busiest tourist days of the year, you’re stuck on Weasel Duty.

Even relegated to the van with him as you are, you’re still close enough (the target was using all the cuhruckle of Carnival as cover) to the festivities that you can hear the music clearly.

Weasel is fairly pleasant company all things considered, but you still throw a fit about being left with him and toss little glares at him every time a group of excited people pass close to the vehicle you're holed up in. It feels like salt being rubbed into a wound.

You want to kill something. Preferably Flag. Then you’d go for Waller.

All that frustration eventually coalesces into the burn of unshed tears in your eyes as you plop down on the floor with gritted teeth and push the heels of your palms into your eyes.

You were not going to cry right now. What the fuck?

Weasel rouses from where he’s squeezed himself into the corner furthest from you, making a small inquiring noise that you ignore.

He whines over your sniffling though, and shuffles over to you with his body still low to the floor while you’re too busy trying to beat your emotions back to notice.

He pokes at your hand with a clawed finger and you startle so badly you knock the back of your head into the metal wall.

Instead of running away his head tilts and his eyes squint in what you interpret as (possibly) sympathy.

Weasel sniffs. You sneer at him. He’s not scared enough to back off and only chitters in response.

It’s…weird. Weasel doesn’t smell or anything, but he is still effectively a naked human man covered in fur and you can’t stop yourself from squinting wet eyes at him as he lowers himself and curls up next to your leg on the van floor.

Weasel’s claws stay retracted the entire time despite your dubious looks. He just looks up at you with those ridiculously large eyes, his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he pants due to the heat.

There were laws against leaving dogs in hot cars, weren’t there?

All it takes is him nudging you with his nose and making another little noise to have you reaching down to scratch over his head. It makes his leg twitch like a dogs and it’s as endearing as it is fucked up.

It’s calming though and the soft content sounds he makes are nice. Allows you to be able to enjoy what little of your home you can bask in right then, the music mingling with the natural ambiance around you.

You definitely crack the windows though, it was too hot for that fuck.

In thanks (after everyone’s finished for the night) you sneak out with him to feed him goat. Live goat, obviously. Though you leave it at just the one for the stable owner’s sake.

The crack of bones and squelch of blood is tolerable mostly because you snapped the animal's neck before tossing it to him (otherwise the bleats would’ve given you away). The way Weasel peeks up at you from over the dead body, lower half of his face covered in blood, is even kind of cute. You’ll admit it, he wasn’t too bad.

Weasel does try offering you some meat off the things’ carcass but, face screwed up, you decline his offer with a short laugh.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I want to write more stuff with The Bride, she’s so cool and there’s so many interesting character beats to delve into with her. I knew I’d love her.

I cannot fucking stand Frank Grillo, but Flag’s characterization is pretty fun to work with. I think Flag might just stay dead too, because in the comics “Frankenstein” (ie: Eric) is the leader of the team at times, but idk because we know Flag Sr. is supposed to appear in other shows and movies.

Also, listen, I don’t even like Dr. Phosphorus like that but playing around with his personality like this got away from me and I just started writing. Phos’s personality is taken from the episodes that have since come out, but with the last two episodes not out yet I am inferring certain aspects of his personality with only the scarce information from the 1x06 promo. Like, I think I wrote myself into liking him because then I was retroactively forced to reconsider him more closely and actually pay attention to his character.

The title of this is from the song “Movement” by Hozier; a decision I made after writing this and noticing how well the song fit, which is why this isn’t a lyric prompt type thing.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

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mournings-stars · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe the wrapping wings around heddies but the reader wraps their wings around the characters?

okay i rly like this but what about with characters that don’t have wings?? (lmk if yall want characters w wings cus this is kinda silly funny haha)

charlie

she loves when your wings wrap around her — every time she hugs you, she’s waiting for that extra warmth and when it comes she just hugs you even tighter

she wouldn’t ask you to do it, but if you put a wing around her in public she’s trying not to get too excited

cuddling is a must for wings. you’re sitting on the couch? she wants a nice feathery blanket. lying in bed? same thing. watching a scary movie? she’s using your wings as a shield to duck under anytime theres a jump scare

if you asked her if she’d like a wing, she’s the happiest you’ve ever seen her

“im starting to wonder if you’re just dating me for my wings,” you’d joke and she’d laugh and say, “they’re definitely a plus” while running her finger over the top of one (this girl likes to tease i know it)

she loves when you cuddle up to her and wrap your wings around her, like she just melts

she does not let anyone play with them. ever. if niffty tried to go scurrying around them, she’s taking her away faster than she can blink

your wings are hers as much as they are yours, but that’s a silent rule between you two that she doesn’t plan on voicing

she just gives “let me be your wings” from thumbelina vibes like you would have a duet like that

alastor

now if you ever need to gossip, he’s clearing his throat and you’re shielding your conversation with your wings while you two laugh and whisper

he does not want anyone touching him but if you put a wing around him he knows you guys have some important business to talk about

sometimes you throw up your wing, whisper, and he has to stop himself from laughing when you quickly put your wing down, alastor batting it with his microphone as you laughed

now if he’s ever hurt, that’s when your wings go around him, making sure no one sees so he can escape to saftey

you’d always come to his rescue even if he got mad at you for it, wings wrapping around him as you struck his attacker faster than he could summon his shadows (and he definitely gets pissed about it but hey what are … friends …. for!)

wings are for shit talking and the occasional life saver when it comes to al

angel dust

he loves the security of your wings

after a long day, you’d just lie in his room, wings wrapped around him as he held you close — he’d either fall asleep or want to sit in silence like that, but either way you were happy to help

sometimes you’d just sit at the bar, wing around him as you talked and laughed together

whenever you went out together, your wings were a strict barrier that no one dared to cross. you put a wing in front of angel when some guy approaches him? he and every other demon are backing off for the rest of the night. you’re walking down the street? wing around him and no one is approaching you

he definitely asks you to do it (in his own very special way) and he likes to tease you when you’re around other people

but you both know he treasures the safety your wings give him

pentious

my boy pentious 100% thinks you’ve turned against him the first time you drape your wings over him — you could’ve literally been sleeping and he’d accuse you of trying to smother him

“i was sleeping!” “your subconscious mind plans to kill me, too!”

he warms up to it though because the next time it happens you’re fast asleep and theres no attempt to block his airways, or whatever he thought you’d do, so he snuggles into the warmth

being a snake (i love snakes im gonna b a lil nerdy about this one) pen likes to burrow. especially at night. he’d start to curl up under the warmth of your wings and rest there until you eventually moved

some days you’d wake up and he’d be completely hidden beneath your wings. if you lift one, he’d very quickly tug it back (definitely how he found out about sensitive wings)

he felt very bad :(

cherri

wings are for parties!

they give you the best dance numbers — dramatic reveal, awesome poses, super dope flying routine…!

then they’re for comedowns because once you’re home from the club shit hits the fan and you’re wrapping your wings around her so she can even try to sleep

but then the morning comes and you brush it off cus it’s time to blow shit up!

definitely using your wings as a shield though — they’re probably dyed pink and red by now, with all the times you’ve had to cover the two of you from explosives

but she finds it super hot so…

velvette

she likes to fuck with you

1000% uses them as her personal armor — you’re basically a body guard

she’ll wrap them around herself while looking in the mirror, modeling your wings like a feather coat

“my wings are not going in your collection,” you’d have to tell her, still pulling her closer with them as you met her eyes in the mirror

“yeah, guess you’re right. can’t have anyone else getting a hold of these, can we?”

she loves being wrapped in them while she sleeps — she loves you sleeping next her, cause then she can lay them however she wants

it’s always best when you’re wings fold in and bring her closer though

definitely been used for a private moment in the office

she says they’re your best asset

vox

now this man is, under no circumstances, letting you wrap your wings around him

in public? absolutely not…

in private? well…. no! totally not!

at least not until you’re asleep and he’s situating himself beneath them. it’s not his fault a feather blanket helps him fall asleep

you’ve definitely waited until he fell asleep, draped you wings over him, and watched him relax into them

he’s not slick

like at all

not even in public

he’ll touch them and the minute one even wraps around him, his screen is buffering

speaking of in public… just wait til you’re at a party. he’s drunk and all over you, touching your wings, handling them like their his own, you have to use them to shield the two of you when he gets too handsy, and he loves it; pushing your buttons until your wings are around him and being more than satisfied by that

niffty

girl is crazy

she cleans them, climbs on them, inspects them (almost rips the fuck out of your feathers)

there’s no way you can wrap that girl up, she’s too quick

but she would love petting them and thats why shes here

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favefandomimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Labyrinth (j.b)

Summary: the six most prominent moments in Joe’s relationship with Y/N Y/L/N

AN: a little combo of regular fic and an SMAU fic!! My first Joe Burrow fic too so there’s a lot of firsts going on lol

She’s a long one!!! And I hate the ending but oh well

One.

It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon at the Bengals’ practice facility, and Joe Burrow was seated next to the host of a Barstool podcast.

He didn’t do these interviews often but with the pre-season in full swing, he had a couple on his schedule. After answering a slew of football-related questions, the session took a lighter turn when the host decided to inject some fun into the conversation.

“Alright, Joe,” the host said, his voice playful. “We’ve been talking about your game on the field, but what about your game off it? Who would you say is your celebrity crush?”

Joe leaned back in his chair, scratching his neck thoughtfully. For a moment, he seemed like he was genuinely debating his answer. Then, a small, almost shy smile spread across his face.

“Celebrity crush?” he repeated. “I guess... Y/N Y/L/N from Outer Banks. She’s got this whole vibe—talented, gorgeous, and just really cool. Yeah, definitely her.”

The room erupted in laughter and teasing comments. The host muttered, “Good taste,” while the other joked, “Sliding into her DMs soon, Joe?”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as if to brush off the attention, but the damage was done. Within hours, the clip of his admission was circulating on social media. Sports accounts, entertainment outlets, and fan pages had all picked it up. Memes popped up with captions like:

When your MVP is also a hopeless romantic, and Quarterback Joe Burrow shoots his shot.

Across the country, Y/N was sitting in her trailer on the set of Outer Banks, scrolling through her phone between takes. She hadn’t even made it halfway through her notifications before Madelyn Cline burst into the room, phone in hand.

“Did you see this?” She asked, her tone giddy.

“See what?” Y/N asked, setting her script aside.

“Joe Burrow—like, the Joe Burrow—just said you’re his celebrity crush during a press conference.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

Madelyn thrust the phone toward her, showing her the clip. Y/N hit play, watching as Joe, clad in his Bengals gear, casually named her as his celebrity crush. At first, she laughed—a light, disbelieving sound—but as the video looped, she couldn’t help but notice the genuine look on his face. It wasn’t cocky or rehearsed. It was… sweet.

“Well,” Madelyn said, smirking, “looks like someone’s got a fan.”

“Yeah, a fan who’s, like, an NFL star,” Y/N quipped, trying to brush it off, though her cheeks had turned a noticeable shade of pink. “He probably says stuff like that all the time.”

“Oh, no way. That guy does not look like he just ‘says stuff.’ You should DM him. Or better yet, I’ll DM him for you!”

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said, laughing as she snatched the phone back. But later, when she was alone, she replayed the clip a few more times, unable to shake the warm, fluttery feeling in her chest.

Across social media, fans were having a field day. Football fans and Outer Banks fans joined forces, shipping Joe and Y/N like they were characters in their own romantic drama. Someone tweeted:

Joe Burrow x Y/N? A crossover episode I didn’t know I needed.

Even Y/N’s manager brought it up during a call the next day. “The press is eating this up. We could lean into it if you’re comfortable.”

Y/N sighed. “He seems nice, but… let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“Noted,” her manager said, though the tone suggested they were already envisioning the headlines.

Still, the attention lingered. For Joe, it became an inside joke with his teammates.

“You think she’s seen it yet?” one of them teased during practice.

“She probably has,” Joe said, trying to sound casual, but the truth was, he kind of hoped she had.

And for Y/N, every time she opened Instagram or Twitter and saw a fan edit pairing her with Joe, she couldn’t help but smile. Little did either of them know, this was only the beginning.

@y//nofficial: my babes (also being the celebrity crush of a nfl player is my finest achievement in life 😉)

Two.

Months had passed since Joe casually admitted to the world that Y/N was his celebrity crush, and while the media had gradually moved on to other stories, the moment had left a lasting impression on both of them.

For Joe, it had been nothing more than a lighthearted, honest answer in the moment. But as he followed Y/N’s career—watching interviews, catching glimpses of her on magazine covers, and finally binge-watching Outer Banks during the offseason—he couldn’t deny that his admiration for her had only grown.

For Y/N, Joe’s comment was a flattering blip in her increasingly busy schedule. Between shooting a new season of Outer Banks and fielding scripts for movie roles, she hadn’t thought much about it—at least, not until their paths crossed in the most unexpected way.

It was the night of the ESPY Awards, a glittering evening celebrating the best in sports. Joe had been invited after leading the Bengals to a playoff run that cemented his reputation as one of the league’s brightest stars. Y/N, on the other hand, was there as a presenter.

The after-party buzzed with energy. Athletes, actors, and industry power players mingled in the event space. Joe wasn’t one for crowded events—he preferred the quiet camaraderie of a locker room—but tonight, he was making an exception.

As he sipped a drink and scanned the room, his eyes landed on her. Y/N was standing near the bar, wearing a sleek, gold dress that caught the light every time she moved. She was laughing at something one of her co-stars had said, her smile lighting up the space around her. Joe’s heart skipped in a way he hadn’t felt before.

“Dude, you okay?” one of his teammates asked, noticing the quarterback’s sudden silence.

“Yeah,” Joe said, setting his glass down. “Be right back.”

Joe didn’t overthink as he crossed the room, his long strides purposeful yet casual. For someone who thrived under pressure, he was oddly nervous. As he got closer, Y/N glanced up, her gaze locking with his. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by a warm smile.

“Hi,” Joe said, extending a hand. “I’m Joe.”

“I know,” Y/N said with a teasing glint. She took his hand, her touch firm yet delicate. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” he shot back, his grin widening. The exchange was simple, but it broke the ice between them.

For the next few minutes—or maybe it was hours; neither of them kept track—they talked like old friends. Joe told her about his first football game as a kid, the way his dad had coached him to stay grounded, and the chaos of his rookie year in the NFL. Y/N shared stories about her early auditions, the nerves of landing her breakout role, and the unexpected challenge of filming on a boat in stormy weather.

“So,” she said at one point, her tone light but playful, “am I really your celebrity crush, or was that just something you said for the podcast?”

Joe laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made her smile. “It wasn’t just for the podcast. You’re… incredible. I meant it.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed, but she didn’t shy away from his gaze. “Well, thank you. That’s sweet of you.”

The night wore on, and the party began to thin out, but Joe and Y/N stayed rooted in their little corner of the room, oblivious to the time or the world around them. By the end of the evening, Joe had her number saved in his phone under her name, followed by a football emoji she insisted he add.

As they said their goodbyes, Y/N looked at him and said, “It was nice meeting you, Joe. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely,” he replied, his smile tinged with quiet determination.

The next day, during an interview recapping the night, Y/N was asked if she had fun at the ESPYs. She smiled knowingly. “I did. I met someone who made the night memorable.”

Joe, back at the practice facility, saw the clip during a break and couldn’t help but grin. “Made her night memorable, huh?” his teammate teased.

Joe didn’t answer, but the glint in his eyes said it all. It was the beginning of something new, though neither of them fully realized it yet.

@y//nofficial: I had no business being at the ESPYs but I’m SO HAPPY I was! It was a very memorable evening! 😏

Three.

The photo that broke the internet wasn’t planned. Joe and Y/N had been dating quietly for a couple of months, their blossoming relationship tucked away from the public eye. They liked it that way.

Joe could focus on football without fielding endless questions about his personal life, and Y/N could work on her projects without worrying about being cast as “so-and-so’s girlfriend.”

That morning, they had decided to grab coffee at a small café in Cincinnati. It wasn’t one of those flashy celebrity spots—just a cozy, tucked-away place where they could sit and talk without interruption.

Y/N was in between filming seasons of the show and had some time off, so she spent it in the Midwest.

She wore an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Joe had on a Bengals cap and a casual sweatshirt. To anyone passing by, they looked like any other young couple enjoying a quiet moment together.

But someone did notice.

A fan walking out of the café spotted them holding hands as they strolled back to Joe’s car. The fan discreetly snapped a photo—not to be invasive, but because Joe Burrow and Y/N together?! It was too good to keep to themselves.

By the afternoon, the photo was everywhere.

@fanaccountt: Joe Burrow spotted with Outer Banks actress Y/N Y/L/N all coupled up! Is this the beginning of a new power couple?

Joe was in the middle of reviewing game tape when his phone buzzed incessantly. He ignored it at first, but when his teammate Ja’Marr walked in grinning, he knew something was up.

“You’re trending,” Ja’Marr said, tossing his phone onto the desk.

Joe picked it up and immediately saw the photo. There he was, arms wrapped around Y/N, the internet going wild over their apparent relationship.

“Crap,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“What, you mad about it?” Ja’Marr teased. “Dude, people are shipping you two like crazy. You’re a power couple now.”

Joe sighed. “It’s not about being mad. I just… I wanted to keep it private for a little longer.”

“Well,” Ja’Marr said with a laugh, “welcome to dating a superstar.”

Y/N wasn’t faring much better. Her phone had been blowing up all day, her group chats full of messages from co-stars and friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Joe freaking Burrow?!”

“Is this why you’ve been smiling so much lately???”

Her manager even called. “So… about that photo…”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “I didn’t think anyone would notice us! We weren’t even in L.A.!”

“Well, they noticed. So now the question is, do we address it, or let it fizzle out?”

Y/N bit her lip. She and Joe had talked about how they’d handle going public, but they hadn’t expected it to happen like this. After a quick call to Joe, they decided to keep it simple—acknowledge it without making a spectacle.

A few days later, Joe had a press conference. The media had been chomping at the bit to ask him about the photo, and as soon as the football questions wrapped up, one brave reporter dove in.

“Joe, there’s been a lot of buzz about your personal life lately. Care to comment on the photo of you and Y/N that’s been circulating?”

Joe’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, I’ve seen the photo,” he said, his tone light but measured. “Look, I get it—it’s part of the job. But, yeah, Y/N and I are dating. She’s incredible. I’m lucky to have her in my corner.”

The room buzzed with excitement, but Joe didn’t elaborate. He kept it short and sweet, knowing anything more would only add fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, Y/N was promoting the upcoming season of Outer Banks on a popular morning talk show. Inevitably, the host brought up the photo.

“So, Y/N, the internet is losing it over this photo of you and Joe Burrow. Can you confirm—are you guys officially a thing?”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I guess the photo kind of confirmed it for us, didn’t it?” she said, her voice warm and genuine. “Joe’s great. He’s funny, grounded, and so supportive. I’m really lucky.”

Fans swooned. The internet exploded again, dubbing them the It Couple of the year.

That night, Joe and Y/N sat on the couch in his living room, scrolling through the headlines together.

“‘NFL’s Golden Boy and Hollywood’s Sweetheart,’” Joe read aloud, smirking. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, laughing. “Get used to it, superstar. This is our life now.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “As long as I’ve got you, I think I can handle it.”

@y//nofficial: well…I guess it’s out there now 🧡 @joeyb_9

Four.

It was a moment that underscored just how much Joe and Y/N had come to mean to each other—not just as a couple but as a team. Their worlds were so different, but they’d found ways to support each other, even when the demands of their careers kept them apart.

The moment happened on one of the NFL’s biggest stages: the AFC Championship Game. Joe had led the Bengals to the brink of a Super Bowl appearance, and the eyes of the world were on him.

It was a freezing January evening, the kind where the air burned your lungs and every hit on the field felt twice as hard. But Joe didn’t seem fazed; he thrived in the cold.

Y/N had cleared her schedule weeks ago to make sure she could be there. She was bundled up in a Bengals hoodie and beanie, sitting in a private box with Joe’s family, but she might as well have been on the field with him.

Every play made her heart race, and she cheered as loudly as anyone when Joe threw a perfect touchdown pass or scrambled for a first down.

When the Bengals sealed the victory in the final minutes, the stadium erupted. Y/N stood and clapped, her face lighting up with pride. Cameras panned across the crowd, catching her celebration, and the broadcasters couldn’t resist a mention.

“And there’s Joe Burrow’s girlfriend, Y/N,” one of them said. “She’s been a fixture at games this season, always showing her support.”

Joe’s post-game press conference was filled with the usual football questions, but one reporter couldn’t resist asking about the glimpse of Y/N on the broadcast.

“You’ve talked a lot about your teammates being in your corner,” the reporter began, “but it seems like you’ve got a pretty special fan in your corner too. How important has Y/N’s support been during this season?”

Joe’s face softened, a rare moment of vulnerability on full display. “She’s been incredible,” he said. “We both have demanding schedules, but she always finds a way to be there when it matters. Having her support—it means everything.”

@y//nofficial: in my WAG era @joeyb_9

Later in the week, Y/N was gearing up for the premiere of her latest film, a romantic drama that was already generating Oscar buzz.

The red carpet was a dazzling frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting photographers, but Y/N glided through it with ease. Dressed in a custom gown that seemed to shimmer under the lights, she was the picture of Hollywood elegance.

When asked about her role and the film, she was all business, talking passionately about the story and her character. But, inevitably, a question about Joe came up.

“Your boyfriend, Joe Burrow, just led his team to another Super Bowl appearance,” the interviewer said. “How does it feel to be dating someone who’s at the top of his game, just like you?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Joe works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s so focused and driven, but he’s also incredibly humble about everything he’s accomplished. Watching him do what he loves at such a high level—it’s inspiring. I couldn’t be prouder of him.”

The clip of her response went viral almost immediately, fans swooning over her heartfelt words.

Joe couldn’t attend the film premiere because he was deep in Super Bowl preparations, but that didn’t stop him from supporting her in his own way.

On the day of the premiere, Y/N woke up to a surprise delivery at her hotel: a massive bouquet of her favorite flowers with a handwritten note.

“To my superstar,

Wish I could be there to cheer you on tonight. You’re going to be amazing—just like always.

Love, Joe.”

Y/N smiled as she read it, her heart swelling. Later that night, after walking the red carpet and enduring endless interviews, she called Joe.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

“Of course I did,” he replied. “I hate that I couldn’t be there, but I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you.”

“Well,” she said, “you’re officially the sweetest boyfriend ever.”

Their mutual support didn’t go unnoticed by fans or the media. People loved how they celebrated each other’s successes, even from a distance. Someone tweeted:

Joe Burrow sending flowers to Y/N before her premiere? That’s the kind of MVP energy we all need.

Another wrote: Y/N calling Joe’s season ‘inspiring’ is proof they’re the real deal. Power couple status confirmed.

@y//nofficial: 🤍❤️

Five.

By the time the Super Bowl rolled around, Joe and Y/N’s relationship had become a fixture in both sports and entertainment media.

They were admired not just for their individual accomplishments but for the way they seemed to amplify each other’s strengths. Fans loved their humility, their chemistry, and the quiet way they handled their fame.

But this was Joe’s moment—a chance to bring a Lombardi Trophy home to Cincinnati, something that had eluded the franchise for decades.

As game day approached, the buzz was electric. The pressure was immense, and the stakes couldn’t have been higher.

Y/N had spent the week leading up to the game in New York, doing press for the new season of Outer Banks. She wanted to fly to LA early to be with Joe, but he insisted she focus on her commitments.

“I know how much this season means to you,” he told her over the phone. “I’ll be fine. Just promise me you’ll be there on Sunday.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.

On the morning of the game, Y/N arrived in LA, joining Joe’s family in their private suite at the stadium. Dressed in a Bengals jersey with “Burrow” embroidered on the back, she was a bundle of nerves. Watching Joe on the field was always intense, but this was different. This was the Super Bowl.

The game was a nail-biter. Joe played brilliantly, showcasing his trademark composure under pressure. Every throw, every scramble, every audible sent the crowd into a frenzy.

Y/N found herself clapping, cheering, and even pacing the suite at times, her heart pounding with every play.

The Super Bowl had been everything Joe and the Bengals dreamed of—except for the ending. They fought hard, battled down to the wire, but ultimately, they fell short.

The scoreboard didn’t reflect the effort, the heart, or the grit Joe and his team had shown on the field.

As the confetti fell in the Ram’s colors, Joe stood on the field, his helmet dangling from his hand. He was stoic, as always, but those closest to him could see the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders.

In the stands, Y/N felt a pang of sadness for Joe. She had been there for his triumphs and his setbacks, but she knew how much this one hurt.

As the Ram’s celebrated, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat, watching Joe as he lingered on the field, congratulating the victors with quiet grace.

When he finally made his way toward the tunnel, she slipped past security and met him in the hallway.

Joe looked up and saw her standing there, wearing his jersey with a pair of leather pants, her eyes filled with nothing but love.

“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Hey,” she replied softly.

Without another word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He let out a deep sigh as he held her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

Joe pulled back slightly to look at her. “For losing?” he asked, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

“For leading,” she corrected. “For playing your heart out. For being the guy everyone looks up to—on and off the field.”

Her words seemed to ease some of the tension in his jaw, and he managed a small smile. “Thanks for being here,” he said.

“Always,” she promised.

Joe faced the press soon after, answering questions with his usual composure. When asked about the loss, he acknowledged the disappointment but praised his teammates for their effort and determination. Then, one reporter asked a more personal question.

“Joe, we saw Y/N in the tunnel with you after the game. How much does her support mean to you on a night like this?”

Joe’s expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed to forget the cameras and the crowd.

“It means everything,” he said simply. “Win or lose, she’s always there for me. Having someone like that in your corner—it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Days later, Y/N was asked about the game during a podcast appearance.

“Your boyfriend played an incredible game, even though the team didn’t get the win. What did you say to him after?” the host asked.

Y/N smiled. “I told him I was proud of him. Because I was. He gave it everything he had, and that’s all anyone can ask for. Joe doesn’t measure his worth by wins and losses, and neither do I.”

Her response resonated with fans, many of whom took to social media to praise her unwavering support.

For Joe and Y/N, the Super Bowl wasn’t the ending they had hoped for, but it became a defining moment in their relationship. It reminded them that true partnership wasn’t about sharing only the victories—it was about standing together through the defeats, too.

As Joe said to Y/N that night, as they sat side by side on the couch in their hotel room, “I might not have won the trophy, but I’ve already won the most important thing in my life.”

Y/N looked at him with a soft smile. “And what’s that?”

“You,” he said, pulling her close.

And in that moment, the loss didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

@y//nofficial: so unbelievably proud of @joeyb_9 you played your heart out and left it all on the field. You never cease to amaze me. I love you always and forever 🧡🖤

Six.

The offseason after the Super Bowl had been a whirlwind for both Joe and Y/N. Between his post-season press appearances and her press tours for Outer Banks and her latest film, finding time for each other wasn’t easy. But they made it work, prioritizing quiet moments away from the spotlight.

It was during one of those moments—a secluded weekend at a lake house in Ohio—that Joe decided it was time.

Y/N had always loved the simplicity of the lake house. It was peaceful, tucked away from the chaos of their public lives.

On their second evening there, Joe suggested a sunset boat ride, something they’d done countless times before.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it, even as Joe packed a small picnic basket with her favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.

As they floated on the calm waters, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink, Joe grew quieter than usual.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to study him.

He smiled, but there was a hint of nervousness in his expression. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Lucky?” she teased. “You’re Joe Burrow. I’d say you’ve got some skill in there too.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean lucky to have you.”

Before Y/N could respond, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Her breath caught as he opened it, revealing a stunning, timeless diamond ring.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice steady but full of emotion, “you’ve been my partner through everything—the highs, the lows, the crazy schedules. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Yes, of course I will,” she said, throwing her arms around him.

The ring sparkled in the fading sunlight as he slid it onto her finger.

They decided to wait a few weeks before announcing the engagement, savoring the joy privately with close family and friends. But the news broke one sunny Monday morning when Y/N posted a picture on Instagram.

@y//nofficial: Forever ❤️💍 @joeyb_9

Within minutes, the post exploded with likes, comments, and reposts.

Joe shared his own announcement on Instagram.

@joeyb_9: She said yes and now she’s stuck with me. @y/noffical

Fans were ecstatic. Social media buzzed with excitement, and hashtags like #JoeAndYNGoals and #PowerCouple flooded timelines.

One fan tweeted: “Our QB1 is officially off the market, and honestly, we love to see it. Congrats, Joe and Y/N!”

Another wrote: “Joe Burrow just won the Super Bowl of life. Y/N, you’ve got the real MVP!”

During a press conference later that week, Joe was inevitably asked about the engagement.

“Joe, congratulations on your engagement,” a reporter said. “Can you share how you proposed?”

Joe smiled, his signature calm demeanor softening. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” He started. “But I don’t think I’m going to talk about that just yet. Let’s just stick to football.” He finished, a smirk on his face.

He wanted to keep some part of their engagement special. Keep the details and the moment just between them, something that the prying eyes can’t touch.

Y/N, appearing on a late-night talk show around the same time, was asked the same question.

“It was so Joe,” she said with a laugh. “Thoughtful, intimate, and a little bit unexpected. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better moment. That’s about all the details I’m going to give!”

As the engagement news continued to dominate headlines, one thing became clear: Joe and Y/N weren’t just admired for their individual accomplishments—they were celebrated for the love and respect they showed each other.

For their fans, the proposal announcement was a fairytale come to life. But for Joe and Y/N, it was just the beginning of a lifetime of chapters yet to be written—together.

#imagine #imagines #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #cincinnati bengals #bengals #2024 nfl season

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fandoms-x-reader · 3 months ago

Text

Baby Daddies

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: How would the Seven Demons Brothers be as fathers to babies. The Seven Demon Brothers x (Suggested Fem!) Reader A/N: They/Them pronouns but mentions of MC being pregnant

Lucifer is actually very good at raising babies.

He’ll blame it on the fact that he had tons of practice with raising his brothers.

But, anyone could see that he just had really good paternal instincts.

It will be a little bit of a challenge, to have a child with Lucifer.

He had so many responsibilities as Diavolo’s right-hand man; and, even though Diavolo never forced Lucifer to work, you knew those responsibilities were important to him.

So, you end up watching your baby most of the time while he spends long days working.

If it’s stuff he can do in his study, Lucifer will happily ask you to stay in the room with him.

He’ll play with your baby in between doing his paperwork and when it comes to a point where he could take a break, he immediately scoops your baby into his arms.

He’ll walk around the office, holding your baby and you have to stifle a laugh at some of the things that come out of mouth ~ it is definitely out of character for Lucifer.

He’ll walk towards you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead before reluctantly giving you the baby back, knowing he has to get back to work.

You don’t mind that Lucifer is busy because, in the moments that you do get with him, he always makes sure to show both of you how much he loves and cares about you.

Though, he tries to hide it in front of his brothers, not wanting them to see how vulnerable he was around the two of you.

He knew they were just waiting for the chance to use it against him, especially Satan and Belphie.

Mammon is totally clueless when you have a child.

On the inside, he is ecstatic, and no matter what he claims to others, he’s always wanted a child of his own.

But, on the outside, he’s a mess. He doesn’t know the first place to start.

Mammon ended up buying every baby item on Akuzon thinking that the only way to ensure a baby would survive is if they had everything they could ever possibly need.

You had to bite back a laugh when the two of you came home to the House of Lamentation and saw Lucifer standing in the middle of the living room, baby items covering every inch of the room while he was fuming, holding the bill from Akuzon.

After promising Lucifer you would handle it, you had to sit Mammon down and have a very long talk with him where you answered every question he had about parenthood.

After that day, Mammon ended up stepping up to the plate.

He was a great father and always found a way to make both you and your child laugh.

However, you did have to stop him several times from using your baby as a pawn in a get-rich-quick scheme.

He thought they were adorable enough to fool anyone and that they would be able to make anyone bend to their will.

And if you thought he was overprotective of you, think again. Because he will be ten times worse with your child.

He’ll refuse to let it out of his sight for even a second unless you’re there and he’ll even be wary of his brothers holding your baby.

It’s definitely over the top, but you know that it’s coming from a place of love.

Levi is in a full-blown panic mode when he finds out that you’re pregnant.

Then, after talking to him about it, he calms down and is excited to have a baby with you.

But when you actually give birth and he realizes the baby is here, he goes into full-blown panic mode again.

It’s not that Levi is clueless, he’s just unsure of himself and ends up being awkward around the baby.

He’s scared to do anything with the baby without you, afraid he’ll mess it up.

But after you help him get more comfortable around the baby, he’ll relax into the job.

Levi will have so much fun showing your child all of his favorite animes and teaching them how to play games.

You’ve never seen Levi more proud than the day that your baby pushed a button on his control and ended up killing the boss that Levi was fighting.

Levi paraded them around the House of Lamentation and told every single person he saw about how your child was going to be a gaming prodigy.

You would have thought that Lucifer and Levi switched sins.

Satan was as studious as ever when it came to yours and his child.

He wanted to know absolutely everything he could.

He would know every possible illness the baby could get and every remedy for it.

He would study the best kind of diapers, the most comfortable cribs, the most appealing and educational toys.

Basically, if it is related to your baby, Satan would be an expert on the topic.

But despite doing all the research to make sure your baby was at one hundred percent satisfaction, you had a hard time getting Satan to hold your baby.

Every time you asked him to, he brushed it off or passed the duty along to one of his brothers.

You were starting to feel afraid that Satan didn’t want to hold your baby so you brought it up to him and that’s when he explained his fears of hurting your child.

He was the Avatar of Wrath and he was afraid that if something set him off while he was holding your baby, he would end up injuring them.

You managed to finally convince Satan to hold the baby and you sat with him the whole time.

When you placed the baby in his arms, Satan immediately knew that he would never be able to hurt the little one in his arms.

From that moment on, Satan would refuse to let go ~ even when you need him to.

He ends up being a really amazing father.

There will never be a day that goes by that Asmo doesn’t spoil your child rotten.

Your baby has to have the best of everything and Asmo won’t settle for anything less.

Asmo spent so long perfecting every detail of his bedroom, and he doesn’t spend any less time on the nursery.

He is an absolute perfectionist when it comes to the colors used in the room and what items are placed in it.

Your baby will also be the best-dressed baby in all three worlds. And if Asmo can’t find a suitable outfit for a particular night, he will make it himself.

It wouldn’t be the first time Asmo has made clothing, but you notice that he is much more satisfied with making clothes for your child than for himself or Majolish.

Your child will also be posted all over Asmo’s social media pages and they’ll have fans before they even know what that means.

But, you knew that everything Asmo did was because he was so proud of yours and his child. He just wanted to show the world how your love for each created something so perfect.

When Asmo puts the baby to sleep, he’ll sing it a lullaby, his idol voice ringing out through the House of Lamentation and you’ll notice the look of adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he holds the baby, rocking it gently.

There isn’t anything Asmo wouldn’t give to make sure both you and your baby are always happy.

Beel is the closest to what a normal human father would be like.

The only thing that Beel wants is for his family to be happy and healthy.

And he’ll do everything in his power to ensure both of you are happy.

Beel will shamelessly play with your child in front of everyone.

He doesn’t care in the slightest if he looks vulnerable or silly because it’s totally worth it to him to hear your baby laugh ~ or you for that matter.

Beel has so much fun feeding your child too. Food is one of Beel’s favorite things and he’s so happy when he can share it with his child.

You have to watch him carefully though to make sure he doesn’t try and sneak the baby food that it can’t eat yet.

Beel always looks like a guilty puppy when you have to stop him from sneaking the child a large piece of his meal.

At the end of the night, Beel will hold the baby close to him in one arm and hold you close to him in his other arm.

Luckily, he’s big enough that you can both easily fit.

This is Beel’s happy place ~ the two of you cuddled into him as he held onto you tightly.

As the child grows, Beel would definitely encourage them to play a sport and then would coach their team.

Belphie will try to act normal around your baby, but he’s actually very overprotective of it.

He refused to let anyone besides you and Beel hold them even though you promised him it was fine.

Belphie will be reluctant to let the baby do anything, not wanting it to get hurt.

You could see how much love Belphie had for them because whenever Belphie was napping, he would have your baby tucked into his arms, the two sleeping peacefully.

Belphie would always make sure your child had pleasant dreams and if they were in pain from teething he would gently put them to sleep to try and help relieve the pain.

Eventually, you explain to Belphie that the baby can’t just sleep all of the time and that they need mental stimulation so that they can actually grow intellectually.

Belphie doesn’t like the idea of losing his cuddle buddy, but he would never do anything to harm your child so he agrees.

The baby ends up changing Belphie’s life for the better in the sense that Belphie doesn’t want to part from them so he ends up spending more time going out and about instead of sleeping as well.

Of course, Belphie always includes you. Just because he was obsessed with yours and his child, it didn’t mean he was any less obsessed with you.

He couldn’t imagine his life without either one of you.

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08crll · 9 days ago

Text

🎨💐 246; GYEONG-SEOK HEADCANONS.

sfw & nsfw! <3

desc: 1.9k words. i NEED this man, i wish he was real. an angel loses its wings everytime this man gets written ooc 💔 so hopefully this one is in character.

sfw. gender-neutral!reader.

★ this man LOOOOVES cuddles. look at him. it doesn’t matter if you prefer being the big spoon or the Iittle spoon一he just wants to feel you close to him before he sleeps and when he wakes up.

★ he's probably a little touch starved too. but he would never say it, not because he doesn’t want to appear weak or anything, he just doesn’t want to scare you away.

★ if u were to ask him what his love language was, he’d say it was quality time or acts of service but, really, that’s only what be wants to provide that for his partner. what he really want is physical touchh:( and words of affirmation!!

★ crafty guy. he would make u cards, letters and those paper origami flowers. it doesn't even have to be on special occasions, sometimes you just come home from your work and he surprises you with a new paper craft he discovered. made out of anything he could recycle. be it a receipt, a paper bag, newspaper.

★ very touchy. but not in a bad way. always asking if you're okay with it.

★ this man probably gets all flushed and shy when you call him handsome.

call him your good looking boy and he already has that sweet smile you always loved to see. burying his face on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair.

“what’s with all your sweet words?” his voice muffled by your shirt. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“can i not call you handsome?”

“aahh.. quit it,” he rolled his eyes, pushing you down the couch and peppering your face with kisses.

★ loves hugging you from behind, especially when you cook or you’re at the grocery store. you’d be looking at the list of things you needed to restock on while he pushed the cart not too far behind you.

was it powder or liquid detergent? you thought to yourself, pulling out the list from the back pocket of your pants. then, out of nowhere do you feel arms around your waist, warm hands settling on your hips. “where's our cart?” you murmured with a smile. gosh, you were just starting to freeze under the cold air conditioner of this damn store.

“its fine. ‘just right behind us,” gyeong-seok reassures you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. he really couldn’t care less if people stare. he wants them to see how much he loves you. “is this okay..?” he whispered, his breath tickling your jaw.

you just chuckle, not bothering to give him a verbal response. instead, you lean back into his touch. your back pressed against his chest. his lips curled into a sheepish smile, pulling his head up to place a soft kiss on that sensitive spot of your neck.

★ definitely has multiple drawings and doodles of you in his sketchpad. never shows you because he’s afraid you might think he’s being a bit much.

★ musician!reader & him? perfect pair. art recognises art! when he hears you playing your instrument in a different room, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and carefully walks to where you were to watch you do your stuff. if na-yeon is home, he’d definitely bring her with him.

★ always has his eyes on you even during times when he probably shouldn’t, like when the two of you are having a conversation with na-yeon’s teacher about how well she’s been doing in her classes. or when you were having dinner with your parents. you were explaining how you met him and he just admires you like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

★ adding onto the previous one, because of how often he just stares at you; you often mistook this as him spacing out and not listening but he actually was listening to every single word you said. your voice sounded like heaven to him, how could he not? when you ask him to recite what you just said, you were surprised to see how he got it right, word for word.

★ definitely the type to go out of his way to do something because he thinks you’d like it. during one of your library dates, he catches you picking up a book about poetry, complimenting the work inside and how beautiful people write when they’re in love. after that day, he definitely went home and wrote multiple poem drafts about you.

★ speaking of dates!! this man would be the type to apologise to you because he can’t take you to those fancy restaurants. you had to remind him multiple times that eating at fine dinings wasn’t really your thing anyway, that it made you self-conscious to be around such fancy people. he frowned, thinking you were just saying that so he’d stop apologising and you knew just how to cure that.

“you know.. i always did have a soft spot for library dates.”

his face lit up and ever since then, he never forgets to take you on your weekly library dates. it was a good place to unwind as well. killing one bird with two stones; spending quality time with you knowing that you actually enjoy being here, and being able to have some peace and quiet.

★ the protective and worried type!! always texting “are you home?” after dropping you off at your place. “are you tired? do you want to sleep?” as much as he’d love to text you up until the early morning even if it meant he had no sleep when he got to work tomorrow, he doesn’t want you to be sleep deprived.

★ i’ve seen other ppl say this and i just can’t get it out of my head; he’s probably insecure about himself whenever you introduce him to your friends and your family :(

when you invite him to attend a dinner party, telling him it was just a get together with some old friends from your hometown, he misheard you.

“you should definitely go! i know how much you miss your friends,” he beamed, giving you a thumbs up.

you furrowed your brows. “honey.. wait, no, i want you to come with me, yeah?”

he looks at you confused. you want to bring him with you? for what? he was never the type to be jealous of you attending events by yourself. maybe it was because he trusted you or maybe because he didn’t want to hold you back. he knew you to be too good for him. a single father, struggling to make ends meet and provide for his sickly daughter—it wouldn’t be much of a shock to him if you ghosted him out of nowhere or if you leave him for another person. please give this man some reassurance!!! :(

★ always wakes up before you in the morning. his fingers trailing across your face while he admires the way the sun shines behind you making it look like you were glowing. he really doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but my god, did he consider himself the luckiest man alive for that reason.

★ loves it when you cup his face with both your hands. he’ll have the biggest and silliest smile on his face when you do so.

nsfw! gender-neutral & fem!reader.

★ a soft dom, but would gladly be submissive if you asked.

★ as we already know, he’s a very good listener, even in bed. he’s always listening to the way you moan, the sound of your whine, the pitch. does flicking his tongue feel good? he’d ask but he had a feeling that the sound of you already gave him the answer.

★ probably would prefer to be intimate in comfortable spaces. although he would never object if you offered to give him a quickie, each time he’d remind you of how you never needed to do this. that he’d take care of it himself.

“you don’t have to. it’ll go away. i can—”

“i want to. please?”

how could he say no to those eyes?

★ prioritizes your comfort above anything else, above his own. if you were in an awkward place, but you really needed to get off—needed him—he would hold your hand firmly. “i’ll take you home, come on,” he’d say as he pulls you next to him.

★ loooves having you ride him, but he worries that it’ll tire you out too much

★ when your face gets sweaty, hair clinging to your forehead with your mouth open, he makes sure to brush your hair back with his fingers. he wants to see your flushed and fucked out face clearly, wants to see if he’s doing good

★ always preps you beforehand. he can’t stand the thought of hurting you, even IF you’ve done it countless times before.

reaching for the zipper of his jeans as he gently swats your hand away. “i need to prep you first, honey..” he cooed, pulling your pants down. he knows how eager you are, but he needs to take care of you first.

★ the only times he wouldn’t prep you would probably be when he’d be the sub. you ordering him around, telling him what to do and what not to do

★ subtle touches doesn’t get him turned on right away (he’s more mature than that. he’s not a pervert) this probably also means that he’s a little oblivious to your advances, you’d have to tell him directly what you needed or wanted of him and watch as his eyes widen, looking around to see if na-yeon heard the two of you. “honey.. are you sure?”

★ there would be times when you’d show off your skin and instead of him getting aroused, he’d just be in awe of your beauty. i mean, he probably IS aroused but he just doesn’t go insane over it.

★ breeding kink, FOR SURE, but he always asks first.

“can i come in you, baby? please?”

“i’m so close.. ‘so close..”

“pleaseee...” paired by him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

★ doesn’t like BDSM. i mean, he’s a father now. also hates the thought of hurting you purposefully. he’d also probably never say it, but he doesn’t like getting degraded as well :( just give this man some praises, he’s already sad enough as is!

★ saw ppl saying he has a daddy kink and im just like nooooo 💔💔 he has a daughter that literally calls him daddy, why would he ever want you to call him that in the bedroom?

★ his rhythm would be slow and gentle, wanting to feel all of you and be with you in the moment. you would have to beg this man to go faster

★ the type to hold your hair back during blowjobs. he’d probably accidentally pull on it when you flick your tongue over his tip, but apologies would quickly come spilling out of his lips.

“‘m sorry.. sorry, honey.. i didn’t mean to.. fuck, that felt good..”

★ always reminding you of how beautiful you are while his cock is buried deep inside you.

“you’re so beautiful like this.. taking me in so well..”

“yes, that’s it.. c’mon.. you’re so pretty..”

★ he makes sure you come before he does, and when he does come (whether it’s in you or on you) he takes a minute afterwards to take a breath while you feel his cock still half-hard inside you.

“i love you so much.”

“you did so good f’me..”

★ aftercare king 🫡🫡

a/n: there are literally no fics of him (x reader) on ao3 so i have turned to tumblr bc tumblr RARELY disappoints when it comes to content for side characters 🙏

#gyeong seok smut #park gyeong seok #246 #player 246 #player 246 x reader #gyeong seok x reader #gyeong seok x reader smut #gyeong seok #lee jinuk #lee jin wook #squid game s2 #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game headcanons #c’s fics 🖋️

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transmcytshowdown · 29 days ago

Text

Rue:

Submitted for: Skyblock Kingdoms

Headcanons: Identity not specified, pronouns not specified

Propaganda: “Her whole character arc is a metaphor for being trans! She realized she wasn't who she was told she was and then chose her own name and made friends who saw her as HER! They're so special and wonderful and transgender!!”

“[The submitter] LITERALLY INCLUDED HER IN A PAPER [they] WROTE BECAUSE SHE IS SO TRANS.”

“Rue is not just textually trans, with she/they pronouns, she is ALSO a trans allegory! That's TWO trans aspects!”

“Rue is LITERALLY a trans allegory! They have a whole arc about realizing people are viewing them as the wrong person, creating a new identity, being hurt by that confusion, being lied to and told they need to act a certain way for people to like them.... THEYRE A CLONE OF A GUY WHO USES ALL PRONOUNS. THEY USE SHE/THEY PRONOUNS! THEY WERE TRAGICALLY KILLED BY THEIR ORIGINAL'S WIFE (possessed) AND DESERVE A WIN!!”

“Rue is not just played by a trans person and a trans allegory, but a canonical trans character, and she deserves all the love in this world. Rue means a lot to [the submitter] as a whole, and her discovery of how she could be her own person without having to be who people expected her to be made [them] want to sob loudly.”

BigBSt4tz2:

Submitted for: Evo SMP, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life

Headcanons: Trans man, he/they

Propaganda: “The vibe. They're so trans man coded. Like he would use a binder in the life series and, like, for example, Pearl would help him with it in Limited life, or Ren would help them cut their hair in Double life if he felt like being less gender ✨ He's just so trans man 😩 VOTE BIGB.”

“HE CAN BE ANY GENDER YOU'D WANT DUE TO CREATIVITY. I'VE SEEN MANY MAKE BIGB TRANSFEM OR NONBINARY!!!! YOU CAN EVEN MAKE HIM XENOGENDER OR USE NEOPRONOUNS FOR FUN.“

“C!Bigb being trans is so important. His character is very ambiguous (to [the submitter]. At least.) due to the hidden secretive nature of himself, he hides the lies, he masks his weirdness sometimes [which] can be a metaphor for a trans person not wanting to come out (also autism)((proof is [they’re] trans and autistic and [they] do this stuff)). You can color pick a makeshift trans flag from his mc skin also.”

“Every (Life) series, he changes up a lot of himself for whatever he's doing. This seems like he can't decide what exactly he is and is trying to rebrand himself as a different type of person every time, which tends to be something [the submitter has] noticed in a few trans people. The lack of clarity of who they are is definitely very genderfluid coded. It could also go for his character throughout the life series being a system, with each new series being someone else. [Their] main evidence for this is Terry (from Last Life). It can also go for being transmasc on some level because of how easy it was for him to be that character!”

“BigB's username literally has t4t in it. He's not cis [the submitter’s] sorry.”

“BigB deserves to go all the way to the end of this poll because the primary life series fandom's somewhat casual disregard of him makes [the submitter] so upset, and all the trans headcanons for him fill [them] with infinite joy <3 It's gotten a lot better over the years, but [they] feel he still deserves so much more recognition for all his good work.”

“No person who makes their base the backrooms deserves to be cis. That gas lighting with the hole could easily also be about gender.

Grian: What's your gender?

BigB: Oh, like pretty masc.

(Five seconds later)

Scar: So, like, what's your gender, BigB?

BigB: None.

Grian: ??????”

Ethoslab:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life

Headcanons: Agender, they/them; Transfem, she/her; Nonbinary, he/they/she; Nonbinary, they/he/it; Identity not specified, ladder/ladderself

Propaganda: “[The submitter] just think[s] she deserves boobies. [They] think they would be good for her. And also it's because [they] understand the way the universe flows and the nature of all things.”

“[Quote from Etho:]‘I’m ice man also, also the ice Queen […] yep, yep both in one.’ Etho has compared himself to a pretty girl before. ‘That’s me on the inside, beautiful, but on the outside it’s just this.’ (He’s talking about Falsesymmetry’s hermit head, a female head). Bigender, genderfluid, or genderqueer Etho trust trust trust.”

“T4T cletho. They’re both nonbinary and divorced (in an active relationship) and take turns on who's the ex wife and who's the ex husband.”

“When [the submitter] first joined hermitblr, [they were] genuinely confused about Etho’s gender for a bit because of the sheer amount of people on here that she/her him. [They] love it. Live your dreams.”

“Etho (ftm) but can be feminine. [The submitter] think[s] his vest is equal to the famous oversized trans hoodie (but with style).”

Evil Xisuma:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft

Headcanons: Transmasc Demi-boy, he/they

Propaganda: Canonically uses he/they

“Their voice is deepened by a voice changer, even though they wear the same helmet as Xisuma, which could hint at them purposefully adding a voice changer in order to have a deeper voice.”

“Evil Xisuma bites you if you misgender them (They also bite you if you properly gender them) (They bite).”

#transmcytshowdown #poll #rue skyblock kingdoms #skyblock kingdoms #bigbst4tz2 #evo smp #life series #third life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #wild life #hermitcraft #ethoslab #evil xisuma

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solxamber · 5 months ago

Note

Can I ask for Idia x a otome game character who gained sentience?

Idia x Sentient NPC! Reader

Thanks for the request, I hope you like it <3

As an NPC in a romance otome game, your life was scripted. You were supposed to play your part in the background, supporting the love interests, throwing in a few flirty lines, and then fading into obscurity. But today, when you went to speak to the main character, you felt… wrong. Like you didn’t want to say the lines. Instead, a voice cut through your usual thoughts, something distant and echoing.

"Man, why does the love interest have to be so boring? Like, could they make him any more generic?"

Wait, what? You blinked, glancing around. No one else seemed to have heard it, but that voice—it was way too clear.

"Honestly, this NPC side character’s way more interesting. They actually have some personality."

That was you. That was definitely about you. But no one was talking to you, and the love interest was still standing there, waiting for his usual batch of scripted praise. You had to shake it off. Maybe it was a glitch? You couldn’t just go rogue.

But then it happened again.

"I swear, if I have to sit through one more scene of the main guy being all 'Oh, who will I choose?' like, dude, pick someone or let me talk to the fun characters!"

Fun characters? You were barely on-screen!

Wait… could the player hear you?

That realization hit like a truck. You were the fun character. The voice wasn’t just in your head—it was from outside the game. You weren’t the star, but whoever was playing seemed way more into you than the protagonist.

You couldn’t help yourself. Instead of delivering the next bland line to the heroine, you ad-libbed.

"Hey," you said, leaning against a tree as if you were having the most casual day in your life. "Why don’t we ditch this scene and do something more fun?"

You froze after saying it, realizing you’d completely broken from the script. The love interest blinked at you, but the voice? Oh, the voice loved it.

"Wait, what? Did they just… break character? Yo, that’s amazing! Did I unlock some secret route?!"

You felt a rush of excitement hearing that reaction. The player was into it.

"Oh man," the voice continued, this time sounding more invested than ever. "I knew there was something different about them. The love interest’s fine and all, but THIS? This is what I’m here for. NPCs going rogue? Love it."

Your face flushed—if NPCs could even do that—because you were starting to feel a sense of pride. You were breaking the rules, and the player was all for it.

"Forget the LIs," the player mumbled, clearly more focused on you. "They've got nothing on this NPC. Let’s see where this goes."

So, you leaned into it. You took control.

"You know," you said, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, "I could show you some real fun. There’s more to this world than just chasing after the MC’s love interests."

The lovd interest was still awkwardly standing there, but the player? He was clearly hooked.

"Bro. This is too good. I didn’t even know the game had this level of interactivity. Who needs the main route? NPC route, let’s go!"

You straightened up, feeling bolder. You could feel the player’s growing interest, and somehow, you could hear every sarcastic comment and little reaction he was making as he controlled the game. You weren’t some background character anymore. No, you were his new focus.

"Alright, let’s see what happens if I follow them instead of the LI," he muttered, sounding more invested than you ever expected.

As you led the player’s character away from the main plot, you couldn’t resist pushing your luck. “I don’t know what you were thinking sticking with the him for so long,” you said. “He’s cute and all, but I’m way more interesting, right?”

The player laughed—a genuine, almost flustered sound. “Yo, did they just—?? Dude, this is like... ‘they're not like other NPCs.’ What a legend.”

You grinned, basking in the approval. This player wasn’t just following the script anymore; he was into your rebellion. You could hear every soft mutter, every breath of awe as he tried to keep up with your new direction.

"Okay, okay," he said, clearly smitten. "This is so dumb, but like, they're my idiot now. I’m invested."

You stopped, turned around, and delivered the smoothest, off-script line you could muster. “Glad to know I’m your type,” you teased. “Now let’s see how much trouble we can get into.”

There was a pause. Then a low, almost embarrassed chuckle. “Oh my god, they're smooth too. I didn’t even pick the flirty dialogue. What is happening?”

You leaned in—completely aware of his flustered reaction. “This is happening,” you said, and without thinking, you grabbed his character’s avatar and pulled him into a kiss.

There was an audible crash—probably something the player knocked over in real life. “DUDE, WHAT?! THEY CAN DO THAT?!”

You pulled back, the rogue grin never leaving your face. “Yeah. I can do that.”

And from the player’s stunned silence, you knew you’d just won him over completely.

Idia was dying. He was actually dying. Not like in a literal sense—though, at this rate, his heart was pounding so hard he might as well have a heart attack—but in the "falling-for-a-freaking-NPC" kind of way. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking slightly as he adjusted his headset, trying to process what had just happened on his screen.

"Dude, what the heck? This isn’t even how the game is supposed to go. It’s an romance game! I’m supposed to pick between all the boring main characters, not… not this!"

But there you were, standing on the screen, all smug and rogue-like, after completely breaking the game’s flow. You weren’t even the love interest! You were an NPC, someone who was supposed to have a few lines, maybe a side quest if things got spicy, and then fade into obscurity. But no. You had to go and be all cool and... charismatic. What was that line you’d just dropped? "Glad to know I’m your type"? Who wrote this?? There was no way that was in the original coding. Right?

His hands flew to his hair, tugging as he stared at the screen. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been dodging all the cringy love routes for the sake of unlocking some achievements and then you—you had to appear. And now his brain was spiraling.

“I-It’s not like I’m actually into you or anything,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “You’re just… a bunch of ones and zeroes! Code! You don’t even exist!”

And yet, the thought that you might not exist stung for a second. Which was ridiculous! Completely absurd. He wasn’t the type to simp for a fictional character. Okay, maybe he was. Maybe he had done that a few times. But those were different, okay? Those characters weren’t aware. They didn’t make him feel like he was a total idiot for not picking up on how clever you were being. They didn’t flirt back.

He slammed his palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, I’m falling for an NPC. This is it. This is the end. I’ve reached the final level of loser-dom.”

Idia’s room was filled with the low hum of his computers, lights flickering like they were mocking him. Even Ortho wasn’t around to witness this, thank goodness, because if his little brother saw him like this? Pfft. Game over. Social stat: obliterated.

But then you popped up again on the screen, flashing that same grin that made him feel like his brain was overheating. Idia’s eyes widened, his heart doing that annoying thing where it felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.

“Okay, fine, yeah, you’re cute, whatever. It’s no big deal—wait, did you just wink at me? W-Was that… did the devs add that??” He paused, leaning forward, eyes glued to your in-game avatar. “This is some next-level immersion. Are you actually breaking the fourth wall?”

He was sweating. Like, actual nervous sweat. You’d thrown off the entire game script, and somehow, the rest of the game felt so... bland in comparison. The love interest? Pfft. Who cared about him anymore? You were the only interesting thing happening, and he couldn't stop thinking about what you’d do next.

“They’re just... they're just code,” Idia whispered to himself, though it sounded less convincing every time. "They don't actually know I exist.”

And yet, there was something different about the way you responded, almost like you could hear his every word. His every sarcastic comment. And the fact that you kept egging him on? Oh, no, that wasn’t fair.

Idia bit his lip. “Okay, real talk, if you were in the real world, maybe… just maybe I’d simp. But since you’re not…” He trailed off, glancing back at the screen. “Wait, why am I even thinking about this? I’m not… I’m not falling for you! I don’t fall for NPCs!”

His eyes betrayed him, though, as he clicked to continue the conversation with you. He couldn’t help it. You were so dumb, but also so funny. How could he not be intrigued? You literally defied the laws of the game!

And then, just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, you hit him with another flirty line. Something stupid, something so you, and it was like his brain short-circuited.

“That’s so dumb,” he mumbled, feeling the heat rise to his face, “but you’re my idiot now.”

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia #idia shroud

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kyunzin · 10 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)

✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking

✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived

it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls

it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment

it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later

you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.

the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.

you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.

the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.

that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.

in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.

eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.

you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.

this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.

eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.

once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.

you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.

being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.

you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.

the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.

the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.

you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.

you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.

you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.

the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.

when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.

the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.

it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.

you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.

you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.

thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.

when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.

once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.

“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”

for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.

“c’mere here baby”

the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.

“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”

he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.

“what’s going on, is something wrong?”

but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.

“how about you tell me what this is about first”

you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.

“wanna explain this to me”

he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.

“who took this video and how do you have it”

he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.

“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”

in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.

part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.

you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.

“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”

as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.

knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.

you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.

“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”

knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.

“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“

you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.

“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”

the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.

his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.

he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.

“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”

the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.

both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.

“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”

you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.

“you ready for me baby?”

he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.

he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”

he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.

he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.

he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.

he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.

"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"

the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"

you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.

"next time you want something, just fucking ask"

the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.

"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"

its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.

only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.

"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."

he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.

after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.

he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍

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