#this was perhaps way too long of an answer but i got going and kept going oops

[asxgard]

Companionship | pt. 2

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

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Summary: You and Michael have some late night phone calls. He struggles to open up.

Note: wow! Y’all are really so nice omg, I really appreciate all of you who took the time to like, comment or reblog. I also appreciate all you silent readers too! I’m genuinely surprised with how much traffic part 1 got, so thank you all so much! Contemplating adding this to my AO3 account from the perspective of a f!oc, but still undecided (I prefer to keep my reader works strictly for tumblr, idk why). This is definitely going to be multiple parts (my rough outline currently has ten chapters whoops).

I don’t know much about sugar babies aside from what I’ve read, so I took some liberties with my guesstimates.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: age gap, slowburn, foul language, allusion to a panic attack, work stress, Robby trying to avoid his feelings/anxiety, my basic understanding of accounting, angst

not beta read

“You’re lucky. Someone only looking for companionship is a small pool of men. Not as lucrative as a traditional sugar baby, but if that’s more your speed, maybe reach out to some more.”

Your smile twisted, “I’m already uncomfortable with just one. Thinking about adding more makes me feel icky.”

Erin rolled her eyes, “Why? They know what they signed up for. If they wanted fidelity, then they should get a girlfriend.”

“I’m telling you, I could hook you up with a shift or two a week at the bar. I make great tips.” Marsi said, her eyes not flickering from her laptop.

You frowned. “I already gave him my number. My Google Voice number, but yeah.”

“That’s my girl!” Erin praised with a laugh.

You wondered if it was a mistake. He had not reached out since you had sent the number on the app, nearly four days prior. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. Anxiety filled your chest at the thought of having to go through the whole process again.

Or just drop it and take Marsi up on her offer.

—

Your night passed slowly, studying with your friends until dinner time, when they left. You kept her focus on the Excel spreadsheet in front of you, checking over your homework with careful eyes. Numbers were easy, they did not hold the complexities of human beings—

Your phone buzzed on the table, immediately pulling you away from your work.

You have any time to talk?

It was an unknown number. You watched as the three dots appeared immediately after, though it wasn’t hard to guess who it was.

This is Michael by the way.

So formal, you found yourself thinking with a small smile, quickly adding him to your contacts.

I have time.

It only took a few more moments before your phone started ringing. Anxiety thrummed through your system, heart beating like a drum against your ribcage. You took a long breath through your nose before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” He answered awkwardly.

“How are you?” You asked out of habit.

There were several moments of silence. “I want to say I’m okay.”

“But you’re not?”

“But I’m not.” Came his quiet reply.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Another measured silence. “No. Yes? I don’t know.”

You hummed. “I understand your hesitation, we don’t know each other. But isn’t that the whole point? I’m unconnected to your life and you basically have anonymity. I won’t pry, so we can talk about something else, if you’d like.”

He was silent for a long time. You checked the call to make sure it hadn’t dropped. The seconds ticked away on the call, so he was still there. You waited.

“Just a…rough day.” He said, his tone sounding stressed. “I think I’d rather talk about your day right now.”

“My day?” You questioned, surprised.

He only hummed in response.

“Do you want the play-by-play or the cliff-notes?”

Michael exhaled a ghost of a laugh, “Give me all of it.”

You cleared your throat, “So my alarm went off at 5:20, no! 5:25, and then I got out of bed—”

He laughed, bringing a smile to your lips.

“I have early classes on Thursdays, so I was up earlier than I usually like to be…”

“Night owl?”

“Guilty.” You smiled. “But it was my forensic accounting class, which I’ve been enjoying, so I wasn’t too upset getting out of bed. Add in my morning coffee, and I was a pretty happy camper.” You paused, but he was quiet on the other end. “I had taxation today too, and despite the fact I love the numbers, learning tax law just isn’t my favorite thing.”

“Why do you like it? Accounting?”

“Oh, um,” you paused, deliberating. “I like turning unreadable stuff into a well-crafted report, turn a mess into an easy to read story of a company’s financial history. Plus, numbers are a lot less complicated than human beings.”

There was his quiet laugh again. “Yeah, I can see how that can be true.”

“As a doctor, I can imagine you would.” You were smiling.

“I’ve seen…a lot of complicated people.”

You waited a few moments, but he didn’t elaborate. People were the primary reason you had left the medical field early on in your college career — while you enjoyed being helpful, people could be too overwhelming.

“And my shift today was good, busy and boring, but easy enough.”

As you went on about your day as a payroll clerk (though vague about the company details), Michael was quiet. It was clear he needed the distraction from whatever his day had been. You explained your studying routine with your friends and your love of baking. You got the occasional hum of acknowledgment, but it was clear he just wanted to listen to you talk. You moved from topic-to-topic without complaint, pausing occasionally to make sure he did not want to comment, or change the subject.

It was late when you realized the time: 11:08.

“Michael? I’m sure I could keep going, but I’m not sure you want to hear my opinions on office politics.” Your tone was jesting.

Still no response. Furrowing your brows, you listened silently to the other end.

Small puffs of air, slow and steady, in and out. In. Out. He had fallen asleep.

Your first instinct was to be offended — no telling how long since he had drifted off or how long you had rambled to no one. But then you relaxed. He had clearly needed the distraction from what was going through his head when he first called, enough to quiet his brain. Or perhaps he was just that exhausted. Either way, you did not take it personally, you would have likely been up this late anyways.

You ended the call at two hours and seventeen minutes.

—

Are you available at 9?

You checked your phone when you moved into the living room, dinner cooking in the oven, finding a text from Michael. Per your agreement, you usually talked about once a week. He usually gave late notice, though it usually reflected how bad his day had gotten. Your last talk, however, had only been three days prior.

In addition to the one only days ago, you had talked two additional times since your first, typically at night, where you did most of the talking. You almost found your talks therapeutic; plus you were getting paid to just talk. Though, you wished he talked more — part of you felt like you were taking advantage of the situation and he was barely getting anything out of it.

He had already put money on the prepaid Visa card you had picked up after your first phone conversation. Michael thought the card would be more discreet and confidential than Venmo. The $400 dollars you had agreed on for the month had done wonders with relieving the pressure on making your rent payment.

Erin had encouraged you to set up an online wishlist as well, adding things periodically in case he wanted to buy something extra for you. “As a tip,” Erin had told you, a wide smirk on her face. That same day, Erin had coincidentally brought her new Valentino canvas bag that you were sure cost more than your rent payment. You held off on the wishlist, but you kept a few things in your notes app. Just in case.

You sent him a confirmation that you were fine with nine. He must work late hours. He had said he was a doctor, but you wondered in what specialty or where, but you had never broached the topic. You both valued your privacy when it came to your arraignment, not wanting to muddy the waters.

Surprisingly, he did not call at nine. He was usually pretty punctual when it came to a time he asked for. You waited patiently for several minutes before moving to start some hot water for tea, looking out the window at the rain. You figured to give him a bit of extra time before turning in.

At 9:24, your phone rang. Part of you nearly picked it up on the first ring, but you gave it a few moments before picking up. When you answered, he spoke first.

“Please just talk. About anything.” He sounded out of breath, talking quickly. His tone sounded more stressed than you had heard before.

“Are you alright?” Was your first instinct instead of doing as he asked, standing from your chair at the dining table, mug of tea forgotten.

“Fuck. No, I’m not. Please just talk to me. Your day. Your job. The fucking traffic this morning. Anything,” Your name was so quiet on his tongue, you nearly missed it.

It sounded like a plea.

You swallowed, pulse quickening, before running with it, “This asshole actually cut me off this morning, which considering his bumper stickers, wasn’t all that surprising. No blinker, nothing. I swear, sometimes the subway is less stressful, though I hate the morning crowds.”

Suddenly realizing talking about stressful things might not be the best way to calm him down, you pivoted, pacing across your apartment. Deciding quickly on something boring to most, you began to explain your most recent accounting assignment. How you came up with the financial analysis from the numbers your professor had given, to the tax implications of several of the (fake) business’s decisions. You explained it as best you could in layman's terms, trying not to make the math too complicated, before walking him through your report and your thoughts about how to help the business improve.

You paused long enough to hear his breathing, not quite as ragged but still loud and quick. “I don’t need you to respond, but think of five things you can see.”

Oh this was cliche, but you did not dwell on it.

After a few moments, “Okay, four things you can touch.” You paused, finding four things of your own to ensure he had time. “Now three things you can hear.”

“You.” He croaked, much quieter than he had been. “I can hear you.”

“That’s good. Now two more things.”

“…the rain. The cars outside.”

“Good,” you breathed out. “Two things you can smell?”

He didn’t answer, though his breathing had slowed tremendously from when you had first answered his call. It felt relieving, and you finally made your way to sit on the couch.

“Last is one thing you can taste.”

He let out a long deep breath, but kept whatever it had been to himself.

“Are you okay?” You asked again after a few moments.

“No.” He said. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

You nearly huffed, but the annoyance was fleeting. You smiled, “I can tell you more about accounting, but most people find it incredibly boring.”

“You seem to really enjoy accounting. Though, I can’t imagine being cooped up in an office all day.”

“Well I wasn’t quite cut out for psychiatry, and I’ve always enjoyed a good spreadsheet.”

“Psychiatry?” He sounded surprised. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“You would’ve been good at it.”

Oh?

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Um, can I interest you in what my professor assigned today or how my manager nearly fucked up payroll this week?”

He cleared his throat, “I’ll take ‘how my manager nearly fucked up today’ for $200, Alex.”

Your lips quirked back up at the Jeopardy reference, trying to shake off the feeling his praise had given you. With a long sigh, you rubbed your fingers along your hairline.

“He messed up the new employee’s tax deductions by misclassifying his title. When he backtracked to fix it, he cleared out the entire category — thankfully I caught it when I was putting my own numbers in for the small team I oversee.” You told him, looking at her nails. “Led to quite a frustrating day.”

Despite the fact that it had led to quite a hectic start to your workday, adding several tasks that interrupted you workflow, you felt mildly pathetic knowing his day had clearly been so much worse. You tried not to compare, your days had just as much value as his, but it was still a creeping feeling in your gut.

You continued on after a beat of silence on his end. Fixing the problem hadn’t necessarily been the issue — it was redoing every employee's numbers that led to your annoyance. That, and the lack of accountability from your manager.

Time ticked on, Michael only adding in his thoughts here and there, mostly staying quiet.

He coughed awkwardly during a lull in your conversation, “Uh, thank you for tonight.”

Beginning to feel your exhaustion, you smiled tiredly. “No thanks necessary.”

“Goodnight,” there was your name again.

“Goodnight, Michael.”

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[reasoncourt]

logan and kendall i could go for some sad family dynamics :(

ok SO i'm sorry this took forever but i just had no idea what vibe to choose for kendall and logan. their dynamic is so complex. but i gave it a shot

first up - flowers by porridge radio. everyone knows i love porridge radio and this is one of my favourite songs because i relate to it so much.

"is it funny? / you can't stay away / i'm in your blood / im in your veins / the worst things i could do / the worst things i could say / couldn't keep you away from me / keep you away from it". - for me this is like. it doesn't matter what logan says or does, ken keeps returning to him - whether as a son, an adversary, an underling etc. he can't escape his father's orbit. it's literally in his blood - in his veins.

Alsoooo "you cut tomatoes, they're soft to the touch / when will you punish me for what I have done? / you cut them straight through, fall apart in your hands / if i am punished, i am free from the bad" - for me just epitomises kendall and logan's interactions in season 2. he wants absolution for the maslaughter but the coverup has removed any chance for that. and kendall now "owes" logan for saving him which would inevitably make ken feel like he's just waiting for the punishment / for his debt to be called in by logan

second - wild pack of family dogs by modest mouse

"a wild pack of family dogs came runnin' through the yard one day / my father got his gun, shot it up, they ran away, okay / a wild pack of family dogs came runnin' through the yard / and as my own dog ran away with them / i didn't say much of anything at all" - idk to me the wild pack of family dogs is like freedom and independence. logan keeps that away from kendall and isolates him from outside influence. ken's own dog (stewy / nate / naomi / rava / other friends or significant others in his life) runs off at some point and ken stays with logan.

aannnddd "a wild pack of family dogs came runnin' through the yard / as my little sister played, the dogs took her away / and i guess she was eaten up, okay, yeah, she was eaten up, okay" makes me think of shiv pursuing a career outside of waystar and how ken might have felt about it.

last - avalanche by leonard cohen. i like this because a) i just love leonard cohen but b) kendall, logan, and religious imagery is special to me.

"you strike my side by accident / as you go down for your gold" - this makes me think about business always coming before family and kendall being harmed in various ways for the company

"your pain is no credential here / it's just the shadow, shadow of my wound" - this is logan and kendall to me mainly because it brings to mind kendall trying to give money to the family of the waiter. he tries to find absolution and logan treats the situation as completely inconsequential. so kendall's "pain" is a shadow of the parent's pain at losing their son, and logan's pain is a shadow of kendall's pain. idk if that makes sense. like the parents are grieving, kendall feels guilty, and logan feels inconvenienced.

"do not dress in those rags for me / i know you are not poor" - for me this is like logan saying to ken that he can't break away from waystar while also wanting logan's approval. kendall can't pretend he's a kid while also wanting to be the boss. now obv logan is the reason his kids depend on him so much. he literally designed it to be that way. BUT idk this just reminds me of their relationship dynamic.

[eternityofend]

Another type of milk.

PAIRING: Francis Mosses x Female!Reader ( Slight Doppelganger!Francis Mosses x Reader. )

Requested: Can I request something for Francis, the Milkman? Like the scenario is: Y'all be talking then, they do it under the desk while the reader is working?

MDNI +18, NSFW.

You scroll through your phone, time ticking with each passing second as you get even more bored. Your job as a doorman was nice however the hours needed to work were plenty enough of time for you to wish you had never taken up such a job in the first place.

You hear a tap on the window as you see Francis in front of you, holding a carton of milk in his hands, his movements were sluggish and his eye bags were darker than when you last saw him.

You ignored the concern building in you and tried to find your wallet to pay for the milk you ordered from Francis, keyword: tried. You frantically searched your pockets and the drawers but there was no sign of a leather wallet in all of the places you searched.

Francis stares at you with a blank expression, completely minding his own business as he didn't question the amount of time it took for you to find your wallet.

"Hey.. can I pay you up in a different way?"

Francis raises his eyebrows, skeptical about your request but nods his head; far too kept up with how much time this delivery was taking. He wasn't used to social interaction anyway, he just wanted to get out.

You motion for him to come into your office, opening the gate for him and closing it once he went through.

A few minutes later, Francis knocks on your door and you let him in, he's still holding onto the carton of milk which you help him put on your desk.

"Mmmm.. so what's this different method of payment are you talking about?.." Francis mutters, his voice husky with the tiredness he felt from his job, tone as curious as ever.

You walk up to him, putting your hand on his chest while smiling innocently.

Francis looked at you with a curious expression, gulping as he was nervous about what you were going to do with him.

Francis looked at your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes, trying to distract himself from the weird thoughts he was thinking; perhaps he was watching too much inappropriate stuff, he should limit himself on that.

"Do you live alone?" You asked, knowing well what his answer would be.

Francis tore his gaze away from you, now staring at your wall. "Yes.."

He hears a small laugh come from you, and his body feels tingly with extreme nervousness. Why were you laughing? Did you expect him to have a roommate or something?

"So you have no one to milk you at home then?" You whisper in Francis's ears, watching him tense up as he caved in to your voice and touch.

You saw the way his knees trembled to hold onto his body, cheeks turning redder than the scarlet milk he frequently delivers.

You put a hand on his cheek, making him look at you with a smile on your face. "Let me help you, that's my payment." You utter, watching his eyes widen as he came across a conflicted statement-- not knowing what to choose.

You really didn't have to wait long.

Francis stares up at you, hand on his mouth as he leans against the wall, ears flushing with blush as he attempted to conceal his noises from you, afraid of someone hearing.

You rubbed your shoe against his bulge, looking at him with a mischievous look on your face, wanting to make him cum from a dry orgasm before you fully fuck him.

"Ah~ Hnn~ Ngn~" Francis moans out, his sounds muffled by how hard he was biting on his hand, throwing his head back at how lewd your method to pleasure him was.

His eyes were teary and his cheeks were flushed, he looked as if he already got fucked by you even if you hadn't advanced that fast yet.

You grin, pressing on his erection with the heel of your shoe-- enjoying the way he stuttered, gripping onto your leg with his free hand.

A tap on the window stops you from admiring him longer, and Francis panics. He couldn't run out because it would be suspicious if the visitor were to see someone come from below your desk, he didn't want to spread rumours as well if someone recognized him.

So he just sat there, both hands covering his mouth.

Wait.. what were you doing?

Francis bites onto his hand, heart pulsing as he felt your shoe rub more against his dick, you were crazy! Why were you still continuing?!

You grinned, twirling your hair as you faced a doppelganger of one of the visitors, not even having to check the ID to know it was a doppelganger.

You had to admit, it sure mimicked the resident properly, but if it weren't for the real Francis already being below your desk, you would've let the doppelganger of Francis in, there were barely any differences as well.

"Oh? My appearance..? I don't quite follow.." The doppelganger muttered, trying to keep calm as he felt rage from how fast you figured out he was a doppelganger.

You were not only a pretty doorman but a smart one too, the doppelganger held back on transforming, wanting to see if he could still convince you that he was the real one.

You chuckle at the doppelganger's confused expression, adding a bit more pressure to your shoe as you pressed on Francis's erection, hearing a small moan come out of him.

The doppelganger's eyes widened, looking around as he was confused at where the noise came from.

What a shame, you'd so tease the real Francis using the doppelganger if only you weren't allowed to spread the fact that Doppelgangers existed.

"I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I can let you in."

You rang the DDD and let them handle the situation, completely forgetting about Francis beneath you, trembling at how much pressure he was receiving.

By the time you remembered about him, you were already finished with the doppelganger situation, seeing him all teary and red just from your shoe.

You laugh, lifting his face up as you stop rubbing your shoe against his dick, grinning at him with a new idea in mind.

"Let's start with the milking process now, shall we, Milkman? But first, why don't you eat me out first?"

You catch his flustered expression as he nodded, moving his hands all the way to your thighs as he got rid of your panties.

Francis moves closer to your pussy, licking on it as his eyes widened from the taste, it was much different than the milk he was used to.

You let out a breathy moan, spreading your legs wider as you felt Francis shove his tongue straight into you, eating you out as if he was a man that was starved for years.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you let out a full moan, suddenly closing your thighs around Francis's head, he didn't seem to mind however.

"Shit... you sure know how to eat pussy.." You mumble, biting on your lip as you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his cold wet tongue.

Francis's hooked nose makes you moan as it pressed against your pussy because of how close he was.

You moan, throwing your head back when you feel Francis's tongue licking on your clit, lapping it up as if it was water.

Your grip on his hair tightens, clenching down on his tongue as you orgasmed.

Francis moans beneath you, the vibration running across your entire body making you shake and tremble.

You breathe out, your pussy pulsing while Francis explored your insides, eager to drink up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.

You pull Francis's head away to face towards you. And the moment you see the expression on his face, your pussy twitches at the sight. His eyes are half-lidded, staring at you while his tongue and mouth were filled with your cum.

Francis smiles, and swallows your cum right in front of you, making you bite your lip from how aroused you were.

"We aren't done yet, Milkman." You grin.

But apparently the story is done! I hope you enjoyed the story, this is my second time writing smut :)

[parfaitblogs]

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 

And then he was free. 

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 

You couldn't complain. 

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?" 

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 

"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?" 

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 

He liked to hear you. 

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 

"Touch myself?" 

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 

Thankfully, you didn't have to. 

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[lokisswiftie]

Restraint

Words- 1.7k

Summary: Spencer finds it hard to keep his hands off of you- you’ll just have to find a way to restrain him from it.

Warnings: Smut, Established Relationship, Handjob, unprotected p in v (don’t do that), Handcuffs are a big part of this, Sub!Spencer, Spencer very pussy drunk, a tiny bit of dacryphilia? It’s mentions he cries maybe once, slight dom!reader, Spencer is very needy, Aftercare

A/N: well well well. Look who’s writing smut again, I say as I hold the mirror up to myself. Anyway, enjoy this and requests are open!!!

__________________________________________

Spencer’s always been very affectionate with you, since you started dating he’s been nothing but loving. Of course, it did take a while where he was a shy mess from just holding your hand around others, but that phase faded away quickly. When he discovered the pleasure that physical touch with you could bring, he was hooked. All it took was a lazy night cuddled up with him on the couch for him to realise how much he loved being close to you. The sleep he got that night was his best in months, with you in his arms.

You were thrilled to be more affectionate with Spencer, and you were both giddy with the slightest touches. Spencer was certain he must be getting drunk on you, because every night he spent away from you or alone in his bed he was miserable.The flurry of kisses you always got from him on your return always sent a thrill through you.

This clinginess showed through during sex- you didn’t mind it, not at all. You admittedly loved the feeling of Spencer’s hands trailing over you almost frantically as he tried to hold every part of you at once. It felt good to be needed like this, and you were happy to hold his hand, lace your fingers with his while he came deep inside you. You just loved the needy side of him… yet you found yourself wanting to pull more of this from him.

That’s how you ended up proposing the idea to him- the idea of you restraining his hands. Truthfully you’d thought about it for a while before asking. Sometimes when you were away from Spencer you’d fuck yourself to thoughts of how he might whine for you while you held him back.

At first when you asked Spencer had pouted a little, after all he loved touching you. Though, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like you having control over him. So, he agreed. And that’s how you’ve ended up like this, hand wrapped around his slick cock while you’re perched on his lap. And perhaps most exciting of all, his hands cuffed to the bed frame.

“Does that feel good, sweet boy?”

You coo, twisting your hand while you stroke him. Spencer’s panting hard, his hips jumping up a little to chase the feeling. It didn’t take long to get him worked up like this, his bare chest rising and falling fast. Just like your dreams, he’s making the most beautiful whines.

“Please!- please- feels so good-“

Spencer sobs out, his pretty brown eyes already filled with tears. He whimpers and gasps, his eyes locked on yours and finding a new intensity there. The fabric of your panties is already soaked through by now, and you’re only holding back from touching yourself so you can keep hearing him like this.

“Please what, baby? I’m giving you what you want.”

A smirk creeps onto your lips as you tease him. The power you have over him right now is addicting, and you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying it more. With the way he whines and his hips buck up into your hand when you rub his sensitive head, you might guess him. When his eyes roll back and he’s too lost in pleasure to reply, you squeeze his cock lightly. His eyes open with a moan, and he meets your intense gaze.

“Spencer, that’s not an answer.”

Sharpness invades your voice and you still your hand. He cries out so desperately that you might have kept going just because you feel a little bad- but not bad enough.

“Please!- I need- i need your pussy please-“

Spencer sobs out, and his hands tug at the cuffs so hard it shakes the frame a little. He’s painfully hard and all that genius mind can think of is burying himself inside of you. Thankfully, you oblige him with a grin. You shuffle further up his lap, and move your hands to take off your panties and discard them.

Slowly, you rub Spencer’s tip through your soaking folds. You’re just as needy as Spencer, but you’re holding onto your wits much better than him. Though, you can’t blame him- he always did get pussy drunk with you. When you’re ready, you slowly sink down on him. Inch by inch he fills you up so perfectly until you’re taking him all the way. You moan under your breath at the feeling, and when you steady yourself and look up at Spencer you could almost cum right there from the look on his face.

His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is dropped open in a silent noise while he stares where you’re connected. When he snaps to, he pulls at the cuffs and looks at you pleadingly.

“I wanna touch you- please I need to-“

You cut off his pleas when you pull off his cock a little, and bounce back down. That makes him moan so loudly you think he’s probably alerted everyone else in the apartment building to your activities. Not that you care, forming a rhythm that drives both of you insane. The handcuffs rattle against the headboard with every desperate movement of Spencer's hands, and knowing how badly he wants to touch you just makes this better.

When it gets to the point that you speed up your movements on his cock, Spencer turns desperate. Big puppy eyes latch onto yours with the most pitiful look you’ve ever seen from him, as his hips snap up to meet yours. But it’s still not enough, as his fingers twitch where he’s cuffed. Soon Spencer can’t hold back from begging for you again.

“Please, just let me feel you- I need to touch you-“

Spencer cries out, and you clench around him at the noise which only prompts another noise from him. The way Spencer manages to hit the right spot inside of you every time is a gift he keeps up even while he’s babbling like this. Bouncing on him like this, you can feel him throbbing inside of you. You lock eyes with him when he cries out.

You decide to have mercy on him, if only because you can feel him twitching inside of you and you know that it won’t be long before he’ll be cumming inside of you anyway. So, you stop moving on him-which pulls a long whine from his throat- and shift your hands up to undo the cuffs. The second you toss them away, Spencer’s hands are on you, and you don’t even care to stop him because you need him just as bad.

“God-“

He moans out your name and his hands fly to grasp your hips so tight you know there will be bruises- and that thrills you. You let him have this, let him pull you into him so you’re chest to chest. The different angle is divine and you bury your face into his neck while moans tumble freely from your lips. With every one of his frantic thrusts Spencer hits the spot inside of you. Under you, Spencer is whimpering like he’s not fucking you so hard your legs are shaking.

With Spencer’s hips snapping against you, you can feel yourself getting close quickly and you know he is too because he’s calling out your name like a sob. Swiftly, Spencer grips your head and tilts your face up so he can lock your lips together. The kiss is messy and desperate, but it’s what finally drives you both over the edge.

“Fuck-“

Spencer rarely curses, but he does now. Your warm walls hugging his cock while you come around him has him whining while he reaches his high. Spencer’s hand falls from your face and flies to hold you in place while he continues to thrust into you hard until you’re both spent. The room is filled with the sound of you both catching your breath back, your mouth pressed against Spencer’s neck where you’ve slumped. Slowly, he gently helps you off of him as he slips out of you with a groan. The second you’re laying back on the pillows beside him his hands are once again on you, checking if you’re okay with sweet concerned eyes.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?-“

Spencer asks you breathlessly, his hand gently rubbing over your hips. You can feel where there will be bruises, but frankly you like that. Nodding in response you lazily stroke some of his messy hair from his face, the strands almost a bed head from your actions. He looks so soft in this moment, almost glowing after his high.

“I'm so, so alright.“

You giggle together for a moment, and he eagerly connects your mouths in a sweet kiss. When he pulls back he’s instantly checking over you again.

“I should get you cleaned up-“

Spencer moves to get up but you clumsily grab his arm, stopping him. He looks down at you with concern until he sees the pleased look on your face.

“Stay. Just a few more minutes, then we can move.”

You ask with your best pleading eyes- you’re taking a leaf out of Spencer’s book for that one. God knows those eyes of his can get him whatever he wants from you. Though, you’re happy to have him as your only weakness.

“Alright, a few more minutes.”

Spencer smiles at the request and gladly returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your hairline. Your eyes drift shut with a sigh, finding a comfort wrapped up in him like this that you’ve never known.

“I love you..”

Spencer’s voice breaks the quiet between you, and when you look up at him he’s already looking back at you with a look in his eyes that tells you he’s thinking so much beyond those words The statement makes your heart flutter like it’s the first time, and you can’t imagine a time where he won’t have this effect on you. You look up at his honeyed eyes and tuck some of his hair behind his ear with a lazy sigh.

“I love you too, Spence.”

[f4ggydog]

shauna x reader: is there someone else🔞

minors do not interact nor read! u have been warned!

warnings: nsfw, possessive shauna, toxic shauna, manipulative shauna, controlling shauna, reader uses pussy and cunt as genitalia, fingering, degradation, twisted affirmations, just overall bad friend behavior!

Unsurprisingly, Shauna’s had another fight with Jackie. It’s the daily routine at this point. The two bicker over nonsense and then they make up. That’s how it went and tonight was no different. Only it was kind of different because the argument was in front of a bunch of people, rather than being kept to themselves.

You weren’t sure who started it. Shauna always claimed that Jackie started it, but you know Shauna’s temper could get out of hand in certain moments. Though, you did not believe she always got out of hand. There was nuance to it, some nuance that might be able to save the friendship between the teenage girls if they can’t save themselves.

Shauna trudges over to you. You can’t tell if she’s half drunk or if this slow walking is just part of her being pissed off. Either way, you don’t want to bug her with inquiries. No need to add fuel when there’s already fire.

Shauna approaches you without a word. Her face screams fury and her hands are balled into fists. Should you try to console her or leave her be? She came over to you for a reason. It wouldn’t be abnormal to suggest that she might need some consoling, no?

“You’re a funny girl Shipman,” you say, carefully patting her shoulder. “Hanging out with girls that you don’t like. It’s like you enjoy torturing yourself.”

Shauna doesn’t respond, only shakes her head. However, she nuzzles into your touch and pulls you closer. Clearly it’s a sign that you’re doing something right. So you continue.

“What did Jackie say?” You ask. “How bad was it this time?”

Shauna always seemed to run to you when shit went awry. You were like her secret friend outside of the Yellowjackets that she never spoke about. But, she didn’t know how to explain to you that she didn’t just cause problems with Jackie this time. Now Taissa and Nat currently hated her guts as well. Perhaps without a bad reason, but still temporary hatred nonetheless.

“Can’t wait to go home,” Shauna sighs. “I should’ve never let Jackie convince me to go to a party I never wanted to go to. And stupid fucking Randy had the nerve to talk to me too.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely annoying.”

“He’s not just annoying,” Shauna grumbles. “He literally smells like shit. Like if I was in another continent right now, I would still be able to smell how much his breath stunk. It’s like he’s never heard of brushing his teeth.”

You wince at the description, imagining Randy’s odor traveling through your nostrils. It’s a good thing you never really got to hang out with him. Though, you realize that Shauna had no interest in being his company. She was only forced to stick around him because he’s close with Jackie’s boyfriend. And they were the epitome of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Or perhaps Tweedle Dum and…Tweedle Dum again.

“Do you have your car with you?” Shauna asks. “Or did a friend drive you here?”

“N-No, no. I took my parents’ car.”

“Do you even have a license?” Shauna snickers.

“Um…” You debate the proper way to answer this question. “Ummm, let’s just say that’s…irrelevant.”

“So the answer is no.”

“Yeah okay,” you sigh. “The answer is no.”

“Don’t care.” Shauna shrugs. “As long as you can get me the fuck out of this place.”

When you both your reach your parents’ car, Shauna hastily hops into the passenger’s seat. She slouches in her seat without even putting her seatbelt on. Her arms are crossed and her lips are turned into a frown.

“So,” you say. “Do you want me to start driving you home or do you just want to stay here?”

“Don’t drive yet,” Shauna demands. “I think we need to talk.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you obey her instructions. However, Shauna’s tone throws you off. Speak about what exactly? Why does she sound like she’s about to break up with you, despite you guys obviously not being in a relationship? 

“Would you ever leave me?” Shauna asks. “Do you have somebody lined up in my place? Am I your second option? Be honest with me.”

“Shauna, what are you on about?” You arch your eyebrow. “No? Look, are you getting self conscious again because of Jackie? I know you have issues with her, but-“

“So, what if I am? You haven’t said anything nice about me the whole night.”

“N-Nothing prompted me to. I-I’m confused. What?”

“You complimented Jackie’s shoes,” Shauna reminds. “You didn’t compliment my shoes. Or my hair. Or my outfit. You didn’t compliment anything about me, but you complimented Jackie.”

“That’s cause I barely saw you the whole night, Shauna. I really think you’re looking too deep into this. Seriously, just relax.”

“You didn’t look for me because you like Jackie more than me,” Shauna asserts. “Admit it. Jackie’s better than me. So you like her more than me. She’s the queen bee so naturally everyone’s gonna flock to her. I get it.”

You stare at her with blatant confusion written on your face. “No Shauna, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I know you more than I know, Jackie!”

“And yet you still complimented her before you complimented me, so clearly I’m not good enough.”

“Shauna,” you sigh. “I don’t know what Jackie said to you at that party, but you’re overthinking this by a mile. And it’s okay if she’s influencing your mind a little bit, but there’s no need to project this on me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Of course you’re trying to defend yourself,” Shauna grumbles. “I’m always the bad guy, aren’t I? I’m always the problem, always the villain! You think of me the same way Jackie does. You secretly hate my guts and only keep me around to torment me.”

The word ‘irrational’ almost slips out of your mouth, but you don’t dare use it. Even if it’s a perfectly accurate way to describe Shauna’s behavior currently.

“Am I pushing you away?” Shauna questions, softer than before. “Are you gonna leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere Shauna,” you reassure your insecure buddy. “Trust me. You’re just…letting whatever Jackie said get into your head. You need to shake all those shitty thoughts out. They’re not worth it.”

“There’s no guarantee that you’ll stay.”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll leave either, Shipman.”

Shauna lowers her head. She glances over at you before firmly pressing her hand on top of yours.

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” Shauna states. “Wanna stay with you.”

“We don’t have to go home yet,” you respond. “Thankfully, my parents aren’t feeling that strict tonight. So, I think they’ll be okay with me staying out a little longer.”

“Yeah,” Shauna murmurs and looks out the window.

She daydreams. She dreams of a world where she doesn’t live in Jackie’s shadow. She dreams of a world where she feels confident enough about her appearance to pursue people. She dreams of a time where she’ll feel genuinely wanted. She imagines a world where she’s the only friend you’ll ever need.

But Shauna’s not sure if her ideal world could ever exist. It remains a fantasy, but if only she could obtain at least some parts of it. She’s not expecting a genie to grant her all three wishes. But one good thing happening to her shouldn’t be so out of reach, right? She still had you. And Shauna’s not aware of how close you think you are with her. But for her own sake, she hopes she’s the person you’d cut off an arm and a leg for.

The drive home is mostly silent. Shauna occasionally leans on your shoulder and you allow her to. It’s the least you could do after she had such a rough night. But during the trip, you can’t shake away this pain in your gut, gnawing at you like it’s trying to send a message. Shauna seemed to have calmed down from her earlier explosion. But, something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time she blew up on you, precisely over Jackie.

The next day, Jackie unexpectedly walks up to you during lunch. She takes a seat by you and whispers.

“Hey, do you know when that essay for Mr. Snyder’s class is due by? Someone told me it’s due tomorrow and I’m kinda freaking out.”

“It is,” you answer Jackie’s question. “But we were given like a week to complete it.”

“A week isn’t enough!” Jackie groans. “Ugh, he always grades so harshly too. I heard the highest grade he’s ever given in his class was an 89.”

Okay, that didn’t seem far fetched. You could only score 80s in Mr. Snyder’s class yourself.

“I haven’t even been paying attention for most of the reading,” Jackie admits. “But it’s not my fault the book is so boring. He doesn’t even try to make it exciting. He reads it in the most monotone voice ever!”

“Did you at least start your outline?” You ask.

“We were supposed to do an outline!?” Jackie gasps. “Shit! Oh, I’m so screwed. I’m so screwed. This asshole is gonna kill me.”

“He’s not gonna kill you.” You roll your eyes. “Just cram through it. Stay up all night if you have to. I know it’s not ideal, but I guess it’ll help you learn your lesson.”

What you don’t realize is that Shauna is eyeing the both of you from the corner of the cafeteria. She looks like an angry dog ready to defend its owner from outsiders. Her eye twitches and her nails dig into her palms.

Shauna instantly gathers that her suspicions were correct. After the conversation last night, she didn’t expect you to speak with Jackie less frequently. She expected you to avoid Jackie altogether. Everyone was turning against her. She was losing the people she so desperately clung onto. Nobody was going to want Shauna’s attention. Everyone was gonna leave her. She was gonna be worse off than Misty fucking Quigley.

How could you do this to her? Did your friendship mean nothing? Was Shauna just a placeholder until someone better came along? Was she worthless to you? All of the worst possible thoughts raced through her head. Shuana immediately jumped to the worst case scenario, as per usual.

But she chooses not to confront either of you. She lets you two have your conversation while she watches from afar. Shauna doesn’t know what the conversation is about and she doesn’t want to know. All she senses is betrayal, attachment to another besides her. And that wouldn’t fly. No, she had to do something to ensure you remembered your place. You were hers, and either Jackie was trying to steal you away from her. Or, you were planning on abandoning Shauna.

When lunchtime ends, Shauna ignores Jackie when she passes her. Jackie calls out Shauna’s name, but Shauna pays her no mind. She storms into class, only you on her mind. She’s got no time for frivolous lessons or pop quizzes or difficult homework assignments. Her main problem right now should only be you.

Class couldn’t go by fast enough. Shauna wishes she had this class with you, but unfortunately she only shares this class with Lottie. Shauna just needs this class and the next one to pass. Then, she can corner you alone. She just needs this class to not go by a snail’s pace.

For Shauna’s last period, the teacher keeps her class behind for a few extra minutes. The woman won’t stop yapping and cared more about getting every note from her lesson out than the kids getting home on time. Finally, the teacher allowed the students to leave and Shauna exited class, finding you waiting for her outside of her classroom.

“Hey,” you say. “Why’d you get out so late?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Shauna adjusts her backpack straps.

“Okay. Well, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Thanks,” Shauna says in a monotone voice.

She still doesn’t believe you value her enough. You waiting for her outside of class didn’t suffice enough as proof. Shauna was right about you. She was always right. Her stubbornness would be her downfall, just as your helpful attitude towards Jackie would be yours.

“Can we talk?” Shauna asks the dreaded question again.

“You know we can always talk,” you respond. “Um, where do you wanna go? Just talk outside here or….”

“We’ll go where I say we should go.” Shauna’s driving the bus. She’s taking the reins. Shauna practically drags you towards the girls bathroom, already struggling to keep her fury bottled up. She knows once that lid pops off, you’re in for some of the worst wrath of your life.

Shauna shuts the door behind you guys once she’s got you inside. She presses you up against the sink’s counter, her hands digging into your waist.

“I fucking knew it,” Shauna snarls. “I fucking knew it all along. You tried to play me for a fucking fool, but I know better.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasp out, trying to swat Shauna’s hands away. “Have you lost it again?”

“Of course you think I’m just some demented bitch,” Shauna hisses. “You’re trying to make me look stupid. Again. I fucking knew you were thinking of replacing me. I should’ve known.”

“Shauna, where is all this coming from?”

“You were fucking talking to Jackie! Don’t you dare try to deny it. I saw you two. Probably gossiping about me, huh? Probably making me look like a fool?”

“S-Shauna,” you stutter. “I-It’s not what it looks like. She was just asking me about an essay that was due tomorrow. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.” Even though you’re being honest as you can be, Shauna still suggests that you’re lying through your teeth. She can’t trust you. She’s too afraid of losing you to trust your motives.

“Why bullshit? Jackie can’t ask me for homework help?” You state defensively.

“Jackie would’ve asked me!” Shauna declares. “I’m the one with straight As, not you. If Jackie was so panicked over a dumb essay, she would’ve came to me. Why the fuck would she ask you about it?”

“M-Maybe cause she thought you were mad at her. I dunno, Shauna. B-But, I’m telling the truth. I swear.”

Shauna shakes you against the bathroom counter. Talking to her is like trying to get through to a brick wall. This whole conversation was fruitless.

“You think you’re better off without me?” Shauna interrogates. “You think Jackie can be a better friend than me?”

“N-No, I…”

“What about that time you stayed over at that classmate’s house because you wanted to hook up with them? And I lied to your parents, saying that you were with me? Remember when I covered for you then? All so you could go fuck somebody like some sort of whore?”

“D-Don’t call me that,” you whimper, Shauna’s face dangerously close to your neck.

“You don’t want me to call you that? When you’ve been whoring yourself out for attention? Jackie’s probably your next victim, isn’t she?”

You’re too stunned to speak. You know Shauna’s had a jealous edge to her. But, this went far beyond any ordinary envy. She wouldn’t let you talk with anyone. You were literally her property and she’d punish you if you didn’t respect that.

“Please leave me alone Shauna,” you beg. “P-Please, can we talk about this later? I-I…I don’t want to do this right now.”

“No.” Shauna says firmly. “Since you want to whore yourself out to people, I’m gonna teach you a lesson. It’s what you deserve for not realizing how good you have it.”

Without warning, Shauna stuffs her hand into your pants. She swirls her fingers around until she finds your cunt and runs her digits along your pussy lips.

“Shauna, what are you doing? Are you nuts? What the fuck?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” she husks. “Since you wanna act like a whore, I’ll let you be one.”

Shauna bites down on your neck like a vampire drunk on the thought of your blood. As she nibbles, her fingers trail over your clit, brushing the nub with the lightness of a feather. It’s still enough to make you jump, though.

“But you will only be a whore for me. Nobody else. Just me.”

“Nobody else,” you repeat timidly. “F-Fuck…”

“Are you already enjoying this?” Shauna smirks. “I knew a whore like you would. You may be a whore, but you’re such a good one for letting me play with you like this.”

Shauna uses her other hand to harshly grasp your chin. She sucks and licks over the bruise she created on your neck, admiring the purple spot as evidence of your claiming.

“You’re not even asking me to leave you alone. It’s cause you like this, isn’t it? It’s only natural for a whore like you to enjoy being touched inappropriately. Bet you were wishing Jackie fucked you with her fingers.”

You shake your head. Shauna’s hand shifts downward and squeezes your throat. With her other hand, she inserts two fingers into your dripping pussy, eager and ready for penetration.

“I expect an answer,” Shauna growls. “You might be a slut, but I want you to be a competent one. So answer me. Now.”

“Y-Yes Shauna,” you answer. Though, you’re not entirely telling the truth. “I-I wish she did.”

“Good girl,” Shauna praises, stretching your hole out and scissoring you with her digits. “Loosen up for me, baby. C’mon.”

“Fuck, trying. Trying. I-I’m trying.”

There was a slight soreness at your core, pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. But, Shauna couldn’t care less about your potential suffering. She’s proving a point and you will be her obedient student, whether she has to use force or not.

“There we go,” Shauna encourages, able to pump her fingers faster as you adjust to the intrusion. You exhale, your heart beating rapidly. You felt your mind slowly melting, your head getting fuzzy with all sorts of lewd thoughts.

You make the mistake of letting out a moan too loud. To combat this, Shauna silences you with a fierce kiss to the lips. She bites down on your bottom lip until it’s close to drawing blood and shoves her tongue deep inside of your mouth.

Her fingers curl inside of you and you hump Shauna’s digits for more friction, most of the pain subsiding. Gasp after gasp erupts from your throat, your eyes almost rolling back from how deep Shauna’s thrusts were hitting you. You grab onto her for support, leaning against the bathroom counter as you let her absolutely use you.

“You like this?” Shauna spits. “Tell me how much you like it, my pretty little whore. Tell me how much you enjoy being used like a sex toy for me.”

“L-Love it,” you pant when she pulls away from your mouth. “Fuck, it’s so intense. Can’t take it. Can barely take it.”

“You will take it though,” Shauna demands. “Because that’s what good sluts do. They take what I give them.”

“Yes Shauna,” you whine, feeling your cunt wrap tightly around her fingers. Your pussy was throbbing as squelching sounds filled the bathroom. Your entire body wobbled and you felt your vision blurring.

“You’re already getting close?” Shauna chuckles. “My god, you’re fucking pathetic. It’s perfect. I want you dumb and pathetic just for me, okay? Not Jackie. Not Jeff. Not any of the other girls on my soccer team.”

“Just you,” you reply obediently. “J-Just you. Fuck, fuck. Shauna, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

“What the fuck are you waiting for, you pretty slut?” Shauna barks. “Cum on my fingers, you filthy girl. Show me how good it feels to give up your innocence for me. Show me that I’m the only one you deserve, the only one you’ll ever need.”

“Fuck!” You cry out, probably loud enough for people outside of the restroom to hear. You coat Shauna’s fingers with your juices as her fingers milk you dry. You don’t even bother biting back your moans or chewing on her shoulder to suppress her noises of desire. You’re lost, in a whole other world where only you and Shauna exist.

Once you’ve ridden out your high, Shauna withdraws her fingers and presses them to your lips. You know exactly what to do. With an opening of your mouth and a flick of the tongue, you clean off Shauna’s digits and embrace the taste of your own fluids.

“You’ll never get rid of me,” Shauna promises, leaning in close to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s a sign of tenderness after the storm, the restoration of tranquility after you’ve been marked as her own pet. She doesn’t need to go hard on you anymore, at least for right now.

“Didn’t plan on it,” you say meekly, still processing your friend’s deeds.

“I know.” Shauna smiles confidently. “There’ll never be another girl like me out there for you.”

Ain’t that the truth.

[rainyyynightssss]

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head.  Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

[getaapologist]

This just popped into my head: Geta has trouble falling asleep (because why wouldn't he), and so he wanders around the gardens and hears quiet singing and comes across a young woman (slave or whatever) and she gets him to fall asleep; she's not allowed to leave his side after that.

I hope I answered this in some kind of way that makes sense. Hope you like it!

(also I know these are big ass pictures (thank you @inseparabiles) but this stupid smile is too perfect to not put here.)

Fitful Sleep

Emperor Geta x reader

Warnings: none, perhaps implied nudity?

Sweat collected at his hairline, along the back of his neck, and anywhere that his skin touched. The haze of sweltering heat that had settled over the city throughout the day didn’t dissipate once the sun disappeared. It somehow got even worse at night. There was very little breeze gently pushing at the thin linen curtains separating Geta’s bedroom from the terrace.

Sleep only came to him in short bursts, something that grew more irritating each time he awoke drenched in sweat, the humidity trapping it against his skin. He would wake only for long enough to move over to the other side of the bed, now slightly cool, mostly dry, and collapse, gradually falling asleep again.

Ten times. Ten times he woke, before he had enough. He felt mad, launching himself out of bed to stand out on the terrace, the barest hint of a breeze doing wonders to his sweat-slick skin. He couldn’t be bothered with a robe, it was far too hot. There was no one to see him anyway. As he leaned against the railing, he started dozing off. 

After the third such time, he moved into his room, looking around for a solution. He spotted the ornate chaise, and immediately made up his mind. Too impatient to summon someone to move it for him, he dragged the heavy piece of furniture out to the terrace, pushing it up against the railing. He laid down on it, the fabric a bit too warm for his liking, but it would have to do. 

As he began to relax for once, on the fringe of true sleep, he heard a sound. Something soft, drifting on the breeze. He lifted his head, looking down to the gardens below through the posts of the railing. Eyes tracing over the courtyard, they slowed to a crawl as they first noticed a soft blue robe, hanging off the shoulder of the siren.

There was a lot of bare skin, more than was appropriate for someone outside a bedchamber. He knew he shouldn’t look, he should lie back down, but he was curious. Surely this person was suffering from the same ailment. His suspicions were confirmed when they dipped down to cup some of the water from the fountain they sat on the edge of, and let it fall from their hands over their bare calves. 

Geta wondered intensely if the water was cool. If the sigh that reached his ear was any indication, it was. And as they gathered more of it up, wetting their hands to press them to their neck, shoulders, the genuine consideration he gave to going down there himself was alarming. He understood the reason they might have thrown caution to the wind and gone out there in such a state. He felt warm, heated through in a different way, from the inside out.

The most he could see of them was their bare shoulders, the robe kept up enough to hide their back from him. But it was enough to fill his mind with delirious, feverish thoughts. Burning heat like the sun bearing down, like sitting too close to a fire. Smooth, damp skin, already hot beneath his hands, his lips.

The humming roused him from his thoughts, and he caught a glimpse of their profile for a moment before they turned back around. It was branded in his mind. He thought he might know that face, but he wasn’t sure. He forced himself to quiet his mind again, knowing that above all else, he needed to sleep. If he was to be of use to anyone the following day, he needed to close his eyes.

The tune changed to one he recognised, though he wasn’t sure where he knew it from. After enough time, he stopped trying to place it and let himself relax.

********************************************************************

The heat had abated at some point in the night. Now, as Geta passed through the gardens, his eyes lingered on the fountain, on where the mystery person had sat. He could picture them sitting there still, skin shining with drops of clear water under the bright moonlight.

“Yes, well it’s a miracle that the worst of it seems to be over,” someone commented, laughter echoing. 

Geta looked up, examining the throng of people lingering in the gardens. Was he looking for his siren? Checking on Caracalla? He couldn’t say. But as he scanned, he spotted a shoulder slope that he thought he recognized.

*******************************************************************

You hadn’t been given a moment of peace since the gathering started. It wasn’t enough that you had barely slept the night before, just like everyone else, but it seemed the discomfort from the night before bled over into tonight. 

All of the staff were so frantic, so frazzled after the heatwave that what should have been easy work became all the more complicated as tempers rose and communication faltered. There had been three dropped amphorae, and one beautiful green glass pitcher shattered. As a household, they were never this clumsy. 

Thankfully, the twin Emperors seemed to be distracted enough that they wouldn’t hear of this until tomorrow. You knelt and gathered the bigger shards as carefully as you could. Some of the glass disposed of, and the rest of it being swept up by another, you turned to return to the party, to see what else might need doing.

You collided with a chest, hands reaching out to steady yourself, an apology ready to begin tumbling from your lips. It died on your tongue as you locked eyes with him. Geta.

“Are you alright?”

He seemed genuinely concerned, and though you were new here, you assumed rightfully that it was a rarity.

“I’m fine, thank you, Emperor.” As instructed, you averted your eyes from his warm brown ones, ignoring the way his hand lingered on your upper arm.

“Look at me,” he instructed, his voice slightly firm.

After a moment of warring with yourself, you did. He was smiling, a sight far too beautiful to comprehend. 

“Are you new here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes traveled over your shoulder, your neck. 

You found yourself nodding, having a hard time stringing words together. He was intimidating, as he should be, one of the co-Emperors of Rome. But it wasn’t his title that intimidated you. It was the way he was appraising you.

“You helped with dinner yesterday, yes? I was trying to figure out where I’d seen you before.”

You nodded, letting out a cautious smile. He wanted to remember where he had seen you before? Why?

“The fountain… It sure seemed refreshing.” He was teasing you. “I considered walking down to join you myself.” His words were tinged with amusement, a glint in his eye confirming it.

An overwhelming wave of embarrassment and slight fear washed over you. You were only here what, a few days? Already in trouble. It was stupid, you knew it was stupid when you did it, but you would have actually lost your mind if you were made to suffer another moment in the sweltering windowless room.

Geta’s laugh ripped you from your thoughts. 

“You saw me?”

“Emperor,” he spoke sternly, raising an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his full lips.

“What?”

“‘You saw me, Emperor,” he corrected.

“E-Emperor,” you repeated, concerned that you were about to be dismissed.

“Yes, I did.” He let his smile spread. “What was that tune you were humming?”

“Just something my mother used to sing to me,” you answered. An eyebrow raise reminded you. “Emperor.”

He looked away for a moment before returning his attention to you. “I do think that you would be better suited elsewhere.”

Oh no. You were being dismissed.

“I think I will have need of you in my personal quarters. A good tune may come in handy during sleepless nights.”

Boiling hot mortification poured over you, your mind making many leaps and assumptions. He was unaffected, still smiling, still more handsome than he should have been. 

“Don’t look so scared,” he chuckled. “Do you know how to make a bed? Draw a bath?” His tone was slightly mocking, but full of amusement.

You nodded, watching him carefully, the mortification giving way to something quite different. Something you couldn’t, or wouldn’t, name.

“Good. I’ll expect to see you later.” He looked satisfied with himself, his gaze still approving, if a bit intrigued. And after one last look, he turned, walking off further into the gardens, back to where the party was concentrated. As he passed the fountain, he looked back over his shoulder at you, a grin on his face.

[keyotos]

may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭

feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333

the things we do

summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw

dan heng

⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.

⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on

⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?

⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.

⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.

“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.

“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.

it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?

“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.

⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?

⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.

⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.

⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?

it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?

⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.

“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”

⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.

“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.

“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”

“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.

dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.

gepard

⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?

⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?

⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.

⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?

⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?

⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.

⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?

you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"

⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.

"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.

"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.

⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.

⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.

"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."

his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.

"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.

"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."

blade (kinda modern!au-ish).

⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?

⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.

⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him

⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.

⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.

⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"

⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.

⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?

you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.

⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.

your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.

⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.

"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.

⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.

"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.

"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.

"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.

blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."

and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.

welt yang

⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.

⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).

⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.

⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!

"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.

you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.

himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"

you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"

himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"

"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."

"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."

⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.

⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"

⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.

"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"

⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??

"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.

⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.

"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."

you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?

"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.

jing yuan

⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).

⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.

"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.

"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?

"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.

"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.

"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.

"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"

yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.

⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.

⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.

⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.

your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."

⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.

⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.

⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.

"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.

"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."

⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.

you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"

the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.

"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.

jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.

jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.

[iheartmapi]

Vicious

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: After Spain’s match against Germany, Alexia injuries her knee. Having to take a health break from playing irritates her, Y/n tries to cheer her girlfriend up to no avail, they fight and Alexia leaves…she’s gone for a long time so you go looking for her.

Angst with happy ending.

TW: crude language, degrading language about oneself, ACL injury

Word count: 1,691

The sun was setting slowly behind the city landscape, the warm tones slowly turning into various shades of violet and dark blue almost reminded you of the way Alexia’s mood drastically changed after her ACL injury.

You stood in the kitchen of your shared house, occasionally looking behind you to see your moody girlfriend sitting on the couch in the living room, her injured leg perched up on a small stool, you were making some tea, the electric kettle buzzing, two cups were on the counter, for Alexia’s tea you had went with a blend of chamomile and lavender, it was advertised as “calming” and that’s one thing she definitely wanted right now.

As the kettle got done with heating the water up you swiftly poured it into the cups. You carefully put them on the coffee table and finally sat down next to your girlfriend. The silence went on for maybe like two minutes..during the few past days it felt as if you were walking on eggshells around her, you turned your head to look at her and smiled even though she wasn’t even glancing in your direction, only looking into emptiness with her brows furrowed and arms crossed almost like a small child that didn’t get its candy. “Hey, don’t worry so much I’m sure you’ll heal quickly, why don’t you drink some tea-“ You were about to finish your sentence but Alexia opted to cut it short “I don’t want tea right now” Well that was rude…but you shouldn’t be so hard on her, after all you knew how difficult dealing with this injury was for her, so you kept on trying, trying to cheer her up. “Oh…well how about we see what they’re playing on the TV? We can always watch some show or movie or anything really-“ Alexia sat up straighter, irritation clear in her eyes “Can you quit it with the tea and TV? Or better, just quit trying to cheer me up, it’s annoying” she barked at you, “Alright, Jesus…sorry for wanting to be nice” you answered calmly but it was evident that you were offended and perhaps getting annoyed with how unapproachable she was being lately.

“”Nice”? For fucks sake Y/n! Do you see my leg? I’m useless, and I’m supposed to be a ball of sunshine just because you want it?!” She waved her hands around like a maniac “But why would I expect you to get it” she scoffed, you turned to look at her again your eyes narrowing “Seriously? Am I some subtype then or something?“ Alexia looked away, running away from your gaze that was demanding an explanation “I didn’t say that” she answered more quietly now “You kind of did though” you argued, “Oh my god can’t I just live in peace for one goddamn minute?! Here you go again, making a problem out of nothing, it’s like this every time something isn’t in tip top shape…it’s tiring Y/n, I swear you’re so difficult for no reason” that kind of hurt, you were appalled by her outburst “It’s not my fault, don’t you think it’s hard for me as well? Especially when-“ You bit your tongue before you could finish that sentence, maybe it was true and you were really making a problem out of nothing..but you had your emotions too, and Alexia shouldn’t be expecting you to be fine every time she gets enraged like this.

“Especially when what?” She repeated your words, her tone sharp, you took a breath not wanting to answer that, “Especially when what Y/n!” She said once again, this time nearly yelling, “Especially when you’re such a vicious bitch everytime you’re mad!” Quietness fell upon the both of you, before Alexia suddenly got up from the couch, slowly though as to not make her leg worse..but even for her it was clear how hasty she was trying to be with her moves.

“Where are you going?” Your eyes were trying to run after her, she waddled towards the front door “Doesn’t matter” she fumed, you didn’t follow her at first, but as you heard the sound of jingling keys you stood up as well and rushed to the front door, surely Alexia was leaving.

“Alexia?” Confusion crossed your face, and then worry and regret for your earlier words “Alexia come on! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” She didn’t answer your pleas, and just left…you sighed as the door closed.

She was a grown woman, you couldn’t just stop her from leaving the house if she wanted to..you sulked onto the carpet beneath you, hands covering your face, why the hell did you say that? You were definitely too rough on her..but at the same time what were you supposed to do? There was nothing you could do now, you were just going to wait for her to come back home, after all she couldn’t be out for too long, especially with a leg like that.

So here you were now, sipping on your tea as you sat and welled in your own sadness, eyes glancing at the empty cup on the coffee table that was supposed to be Alexia’s..It’s been probably three hours now, and there were no signs of life from Alexia, you picked up your phone; the lack of messages or missed calls from your girlfriend was no surprise to you, you picked your best friends number, Mapi, you had to talk to someone when there was no one in this empty house filled with bitter tension.

“¡Hola, tía!” Mapi’s voice echoed from the other side, “Hey” you answered, a small smile on your face, which was heard in your tone but the overwhelming sadness took it over, Mapi could easily recognise that, “Is everything alright? You sound very down in the dumps” you weren’t sure how to answer, eventually you just sighed and told Mapi about what happened earlier with Alexia.

“And then…she just left the house, it’s been three hours I’m starting to worry, I mean- what if she like fell down and hurt herself even more or something?” You said “You know how she can be, I’m sure she’s fine, she can’t stay mad at you forever Y’know?…especially not you” Mapi said with her cheery voice “I have to go and look for her” you answered seriously “Have you seen her? Do you know where she can be?” You then added, looking for any kind of answer for someone in reasonable humour “Nah…sorry, just be careful ok?” The girl attested “Yeah..I promise I’ll be” the two of you said your goodbye’s and you hanged up..you grouched, trying to think of ANY place Alexia could be right now.

Then one thought came rushing to you like an arrow, what about a specific football pitch she always went to after lost matches? You figured; if she was gone for so long, and you didn’t know where she was then it wouldn’t hurt to drive there and see for yourself.

You literally bolted to your car, and just drove…fifteen minutes passed and you arrived at the spot, the football pitch was set in the outskirts of the town, here it was quiet for a change, the sky was now dark since so much time has passed…as you looked around the place you could understand why this place brought a sense of comfort to Alexia.

Through the tall fence you noticed a figure sulking on one of the benches, as you entered the pitch, it became apparent to you that it was Alexia..thank god you thought first, at least you knew she was safe.

You sauntered over to the bench, the melancholy, regret and anger all mixed together into one confusing combination hanging in the air.

The two of you didn’t say anything for now, instead you just sat yourself next to her on the bench, once again Alexia’s gaze was far and blurry she was just simply staring nowhere. “Alexia…” you kept it quiet not wanting to cause any more arguments today. Finally, your girlfriend looked at you with something else than annoyance and silent resentment.

“Please, let’s go back home” you asked half-whispering, her chest rose as she took a deep breath, it’s like she wanted to but didn’t at the same time, maybe going straight to the point wasn’t the first option, there we’re definitely some things the two of you needed to say to each other. “I’m sorry…I know it’s hard, I know how useless you must feel right now..I really just wanted to make you happy, I hate seeing you like that..that- that I’m just willing to try anything to make it better” you started, Alexia turned to you at once her eyes almost glassy “I’m..I’m sorry too Y/n I just don’t know what came over me..I guess the irritation took over me, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” she answered “I don’t know why I did that, but I just…I don’t know, it’s my whole life, and now with this stupid knee I’m just stuck home, and I just feel like I’ve got no other purpose” she almost teared up, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace “Alexia…you know that’s not true” you whispered “Injuries happen, you’ll get back to playing in no time I’m sure” you added, a quiet sob was heard, it was unlike her to be so vulnerable…but you appreciated that she was able to show that side of herself with you.

Pulling away, you placed a kiss on her temple, “You’re right, let’s go back home” she said wiping the traces left behind by some tears with her sleeve.

You got up and offered her your arm, she took it and the two of you slowly made your way towards the exit of the pitch.

“I’m sorry I called you a vicious bitch”

“No, don’t apologize, you were right then…I guess I was a bit of a bitch” she smiled

“I’m sorry for calling you annoying” she then added more seriously

“You were being honest then too” you grinned as well and the two of you chuckled.

“I guess we’re a good match together”

(Thanks to @kshvue099)

[married2avampire]

Hi✨ Could you please write some yandere headcanons with Alucard ( hellsing)? Both sfw & nsfw? Tbh probably not too different from how he already is.

Dragă Mea

Contents: Yandere!Alucard/implied fem!reader, 18+, NSFW (suggestive, really), MDNI, obsessive & possessive behaviors, yandere themes, biting (so) blood mentioned. 

Author’s note: I apologize for this not being in the classic ‘headcannon’ format (And for taking a year to write this). When you guys send in headcanon asks, they’re just so delicious that I’d prefer to write something a little more hefty. I am a fan of thick chapters in books as well as long oneshots. I also have a bad (or good?) habit of going very in-depth in analyses of certain ideas. This one caught my eye! So, I wrote it in oneshot format. Also, a bit of a ramble on yanderes: some people like the super dangerous and threatening yanderes who off their perceived ‘threats’ and keep their darlings tied up in a basement, and hey, that’s alright! More power to you. I am not such a big fan of those types. I suppose you could call my brand of yandere the ‘mostly-civil’ yandere. A bit more gentle, a bit ‘sweeter,’ a bit easier to reason with, and not super duper inclined to off anyone while still feeling vaguely threatening. Yeah, I’m vanilla when it comes to yanderes. You caught me. 

1k words

Alucard seemed normal at first. Well, as normal as an ancient vampire could be. He was sweet to you. Quiet, yet doting. You never felt suffocated with him. Never unpleasantly overwhelmed. Never treated as if you were lower, incompetent, or helpless. He also wasn’t boorish or revoltingly lustful. For all you could tell, he was perfect. Except for that Alucard was a bit… odd. Or… you thought it was odd. You weren’t quite sure what it was. He was just a bit unnerving at times. Nothing that was directed towards you. Never. But in times when you and he were enjoying a day out, he almost seemed to bristle a little. He’d walk beside you just as he always did. But if someone got a little too close or a little too friendly, you’d feel the graze of his fingertips across your spine and the edge of his coat brush your side as he stepped just a little nearer. 

In any other relationship, that would seem beyond tame — perhaps even neglectful. But with Alucard? That was a silent hostility. You knew it well. He wasn’t an outwardly affectionate person in public. He wasn’t one for the boyish theatrics. Kissing for all to see, groping, grabbing. You could practically see his nose wrinkling in distaste at the prospect. He was an ancient vampire who had better ways to send a message while barely lifting a finger. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun with it. You know he’s gotten hostile when he smoothly interjects into a conversation and asks you so sweetly; “Are you feeling cold?” You’re not feeling cold, but you’d answer his question with a smiling ‘yes,’ because you like the pleased smile he gets when he lays his coat over your shoulders and looks on at whoever was getting a bit too friendly. That look in his eyes would make the hairs rise on the back of your neck. You feel lucky that he’d never looked at you that way. Burning with murderous intent. A silent inferno that he kept under tight control. 

He’d burn that energy off with you late when the stars came out. Or… not so much burn, but melt it away, slowly, meticulously. Alucard had all the patience in the world for you, which meant that nothing would be done that wouldn’t be drawn out and savored entirely. Suffer you would for him during the day when a spur of neediness arises. 

“That’s too bad, my dear. Save it for tonight and I will ravish you until you can take no more.” The words are whispered against your temple to keep anyone around you from hearing. It doesn’t stave the needy lurch of your stomach. Alucard was so good at that. So good at making his rejections only spur you on more. 

Further along, you’re worried he’d trained you without words to only feel arousal when the sun sets. When he’d slide into bed with you, lay you back, and savor you like he intended to until the end of your time. To him, you were beautiful. A fantastic thing to behold — the magnificence of a human. A wondrous blip in time like a firework bursting in the dark of an infinite night. Alucard intended to enjoy you in slow motion. To admire every messy gunpowder star you possessed, all to himself, for your eternity. 

You are his, after all, and him yours. You feel it in the way he clutches you to himself late at night, long fingers cradling the back of your head so that your cheek is pressed up against his sternum. No heart beats there, but you feel the press of his chest and the false breath he breathes against you. You feel it in his kisses, gentle, but nipping and consuming. You see it in his eyes. They go wide and crazed when your attention is drawn away to another. He stays silent and unmoving but the air is already tight enough to choke on. 

And rarely. 

Very, rarely; you hear it in his voice. Nuzzling into your throat, grazing his teeth, nipping, biting, drawing a little blood here and there, and licking it clean… that’s when he’ll lean close and whisper into your ear with a voice like a purring beast. 

“Mine alone. Mine to cherish. Mine to love. You’re lost to them. Say it, say you love me.” 

Amidst the mess of limbs — too many limbs — amidst the mess of kisses — too many mouths — you can barely manage your answer between shuddered breaths. 

But you both knew there was no doubting what your answer would be once he let you catch your breath. “I love you.”

[sweetbunpura]

Upendi - The Fierce, Lioness Princess 1

Yuu knew marrying Leona would come with the ups and downs of being a Princess, but she was going to put that power to good use and begin to help the people of Sunset Savanna.

WC: 1684

“Are these terms fair enough?”

A warm breeze blew through the council room. Spring has finally come to Sunset Savanna as the heat of the sun melted off the frost of the last winter frost. In the room sat Farena with the Sunset Council and across from them was Malleus with his two Royal guards. The draconic fae looked over the terms, flipping through them several times as he hummed.

“I would like more time to ruminate on this matter.” Malleus spoke eloquently. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, take as much time as you need.” Farena responded with a smile.

He grabbed the papers, bowed to them, and left the room with his guards. Once out of ear shot, Farena sighed.

“Do you think he'll agree, Kifaji?”

“I don't see why not.” The older beastman replied as they also began to leave the room. “This is beneficial to both countries.” The older man hummed. “Although, “He seemed to be contemplating the deal. If there was some way to get him more agreeable-”

“Mal!”

All heads jerked to see Princess Yuu, in her stylized royal garb, rushing towards the Briar Valley King with her arms wide open. Farena fully expected his guard to step in and stop her, but to his surprise, neither moved.

“Child of Man!” The King wrapped her in a hug. “How have you been?”

“Busy. There’s so much work that has to be done.” She sighed and placed her forehead against his shoulder. “So much that I’m sorry I had to cancel our tea date. I’m sorry about that.”

He shook his head. “Do not worry about it, something had come up that day for me as well.”

Yuu stepped back and looked at Draconia’s guards. “Silver! Baebek!”

“You still call me that ridiculous nickname!?” The light green haired guard snapped. “We’ve long since graduated NRC and have gone past that name, have we not?”

She simply smiled and opened her arms. “I missed you too.”

He huffed and shook his head before hugging her. “...It’s good to see you.”

“Mm-hmm.” She moved towards the other man. “Silver, how’s Lilia doing?”

“Enjoying his retirement.” Silver gave a smile and hugged her. “He sends postcards from everywhere he’s been.”

Unknowing to them, as they continued to talk and converse, Farena and the Council stared at them with wide eyes.

“S-she knows them and went to NRC with them as well?” Kifaji muttered.

“That is... shocking news.” Farena added in. “Wasn’t the school they attended an all male one?”

“Perhaps she snuck in.” One councilman, a monkey beastman, suggested. 

“No, she’s magicless. It would make no sense for her to do such a thing.”

“Then she is a special case.”

Another councilman chimed in, this one a meerkat beastman. “Wasn’t she supposed to be kept busy while King Draconia was here?”

“She was.” Kifaji answered. “Unless she completed all of it.”

Yuu’s eyes shifted from the group over to the lingering Council, the warmth in them left quickly as she glared at them. They jumped back and split apart, each muttering something about the princess, and leaving only Kifaji and Farena.

“My!” Farena laughed almost nervously. “Her and Thema have the same glare.”

“Indeed....”

They shuffled away, but Kifaji had a feeling that the Princess had more than just the King of Briar Valley and his guards in her backpocket.

Yuu waited for the men to disappear before turning her attention back towards Malleus. “So whatcha doing here?”

“King Farena and the council wished to meet with me about a possible deal.” Malleus held up the papers. “I was going to deliberate on it more and give them an answer at a later date.” He looked around. “Where is Kingscholar?”

“Leona?” He nodded. “We got Cloudcalling coming up and he has to oversee it, so he’s doing that.”

“And you?”

“Some diplomatic shit.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Like who we should and shouldn’t invite to the event, thinking of all the rooms to give people and such.” Muttering under her breath, she continued. “And keeping me away from the slums and Ruggie.”

“I see.”

“Here.” Yuu started directing them down a hallway. “Let’s keep talking in the garden. I can brew some tea for you, if you want some.” 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Mmhhmm, thank you.” Silver added in.

“Much appreciated!” Sebek chimed in.

They were soon seated amongst the many greenery that the castle grounds had to offer. The tea finished brewing and Yuu handed out cups to them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did the papers detail?”

“Here.” Malleus handed the papers to her. “You are more than welcome to look. I trust your judgement above anything else.”

“Thanks.” She took and read the papers over. “Hmm.” Yuu crossed her legs at the knee and took a sip of her tea. “....We don’t need your gold.”

“Pardon?”

“They're asking for your gold in exchange for the fruits we produce here.” She handed the papers back to Malleus. “If anything, I would exchange the fruits for the fabric Briar Valley produces. Right, Leona?”

“Yeah.”

Malleus, Silver, and Sebek watched as a very familiar tail dropped down from the branches behind Yuu.

“Leona-san has been here the whole time?” Silver blinked.

“Yeah.” Yuu took another sip of her tea. “That’s actually why I came back, they couldn’t find him and they knew he only answers to me when he gets like this.”

“I do not.”

“Really now?” She smirked. “Can you join us down here then?”

A few heartbeats passed before Leona dropped down from the tree and stretched. The prince shook the leaves from his hair and sat down next to Yuu with a yawn. He had started growing facial hair as wisps of it decorated his chin and stretched up to the sides of his face. The outfit he wore was close to Yuu’s and there was a wedding ring on his finger.

“Kingscholar.”

“Draconia.” Leona reached over and took some of Yuu’s tea. “What’s this about a trade?”

“Farena and the Council are asking for gold in exchange for fruit.”

“Typical.” He huffed and flicked his tail. “As she said, we don’t need the gold. We have plenty if they would open the mines.” Setting the mug down, Leona leaned back in his chair as his tail rested in Yuu’s lap. “We’re lacking fabric for mostly everything here. From clothing to sheets on beds. Spring may be here, but winter wasn’t kind to Savanna and neither is the night for that matter.”

“I’ll amend this at once.” Summoning a quill, Malleus began making changes. 

“You have picked up a lot since marrying Kingscholar.” Sebek said.”

“I had to because the council makes me want to tear out my hair and scream at them.” She placed her elbows on the table and sighed. “A bunch of old men running this country into the ground for the sake of keeping everything traditional.”

“We know the feeling all too well.” Silver added in as Malleus gave a small hum. “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?”

“You’d think they’re afraid of change or something.” She waved her hand. “But I’m not about to ramble on about them. Are you guys staying for Cloudcalling?”

“Are you inviting us to stay and partake in the festivities?” Malleus willed the quill away as the papers rolled up gently in his hand.

“Only if you’re able to. It’s in a few days, so you can give me your answer whenever.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Leona looked at her. 

“No. Wife privileges.” She smiled and kissed him as Malleus gave a soft chuckle.

“Thank you for the tea, Child of Man.” He got up and bowed. “I’ll be returning these papers to King-”

“Oh, Leona and I are coming too.”

“We are?” He grunted when Yuu swatted at his bicep. “We are.”

Before either of the men could move, Leona got up and helped the woman out of her chair.

“My, how marriage changes a person.” Malleus teased.

“Hush, Lizard.”

They left the garden and began making their way back to the main part of the palace. Stepping into the establishment, they spotted Farena and Kifaji.

“Ah, there you are, Leona!” Farena smiled. “And I see you’ve met with King Draconia.”

“Yeah.” Leona rolled his eyes.

“Here you are.” Malleus handed the papers to Farena. “I reviewed the terms and believe this is more beneficial.”

“Oh?” The older Kingscholar looked at the sheets. “Fabric?”

“Yes. Gold is far too accessible and common, but the way Briar Valley weaves our fabric is worth the cost of your produce.” Malleus held out his hand. “Do you agree to these terms?”

Kifaji leaned slightly over to Farena, but he waved him off and shook Malleus’ hand.

“They are. Thank you, King Malleus.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to continue spending the day with my friend.” He turned to Yuu with a smile on his face.

Yuu returned it. “Gimme one second, okay?”

He nodded and Leona directed them towards the exit of the palace. Once out of ear shot, Kifaji rounded on Yuu.

“That gold was needed.”

“For what? Another fountain?” Yuu glared at him. “If you want the gold so much, open up the mines and go grab it yourself.”

“I’ve told you time and time again-”

“You can’t keep using that broken record of an excuse, Kifaji.” She growled. “Do you know how many people we lost last winter because they didn’t have the means to keep warm?” She pointed at the papers. “The way they weave their material around makes it so you are never cold. So, you’re going to have to forgive me for directing him over towards that option.” Yuu poked his chest. “You may not think highly of the residents of this kingdom, but I do. Don’t pull this shit again, bird and that also goes double for you, Farena.”

Yuu ended the conversation there as she walked out of the palace, leaving Kifaji and Farena to stare at her with a surprise look.

Tagging: @kimdourden

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Hi! If you wanted to could you write a Soulmate AU or Drunken confessions (Loki x reader) pls thanks <333

Thanks for the request anon! I have way too many soulmate AU ideas already so I went with drunken confessions ehehehe

A Casual Exchange

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Rating: M

Words: 763

Content: 2nd person, fluff, drunken/tipsy reader

Summary: Your night winds to a close - your parting words leaving Loki stunned.

AO3: HERE

Banner by cafekitsune

You hadn’t meant to get drunk. 

No. Really. 

You’d been nursing one glass, only it had never ended. You had a feeling your favourite Asgardian had something to do with it. Plopping down on the couch, your drink sloshed but you didn’t feel a splash and, looking over at Loki, none of it had spilt on him either. 

Your eyes got a little stuck on Loki, like they always did. Such a beautiful being. Skin - flawless, cheekbones - sharp enough to cut yourself on, legs - never ending. 

The sound of him clearing his throat brought your gaze back to his face but you didn’t feel any of that familiar, heavy embarrassment in your stomach. You laughed as he arched a delicate eyebrow. 

“Yes, dear?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, his gaze washing over your swaying, the slight dazed look in your eyes, and the curve of your lips as you giggled. 

The giggling was his favourite. 

“Are you having fun, Loki?” You laid your arm out over the back of the couch and flopped your head down on it as you waited for his answer. Fingers caught the end of his curls, twisting and twirling them, brain fizzing and focusing on the silky feel. 

Loki snorted softly, you having no idea you’d missed his answer. “You seem to be having far more fun.” 

You giggled again and tugged a little on the curl, watching it bounce back into place. “Yeah…  Do you use magic on these?” You flicked a curl again and his long fingers curled around your traitorous ones. 

“No, that would be pointless when I can simply use products. And I certainly would never be so strange as Midgardians as to put dangerous chemicals in my hair to change the colour.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you processed the information. “Guess you’re right. See, that’s why humans should be feared. What other race kept eating mushrooms until they found the ones that made them trip balls?”

“You also season your food with peppers that developed semi-poisonous defense mechanisms to avoid being eaten, your race deciding that that makes them taste good.” 

You laughed and grinned. “Jalapeno poppers are the best and you’re just jealous you don’t have processed sugar on your planet.”

Loki gave an elegant shrug. “I concede that chocolate is certainly one of your species’ better inventions.” He smiled, pulling a bar seemingly from nowhere as he traded it for your drink. 

Probably a good idea, you were just on the edge of sober enough to know that as you dug in and nibbled. “Thanks, Loki, you’re the best.” 

A subtle twitch in his expression caught your eye but you weren’t sharp enough to figure it out right now. Actually, Loki should have some of this chocolate too but his hands were pretty full. 

You snapped off a piece and held it to his lips, grinning when he accepted it with nothing more than a cocked eyebrow. But he soon got his own back, dragging a gasp from your soft lips when he nipped the tip of your thumb. 

You stared at your thumb as you brought it back to you. It tingled a little, still warm. 

“A good idea. Good night.” 

A distant laugh had the sounds of the party around you filtering back in and you realised it’s a little loud. “Me and the chocolate are going to go to bed.”

Loki seemed a little sad to lose your company but perhaps he shouldn’t have refilled your cup so much. No-one was ever thankful for a hangover. 

“Night night, Loki. Love you.” You leaned forward with a bounce to kiss his cheek and got to your feet, leaving him stunned.

Did you just say…

You waved to him as if you didn’t just profess your love for him and disappeared inside the elevator. How could you not realise….? 

You hummed to yourself, nibbling at the chocolate. Head empty, no thoughts as you crossed to your bedroom door. 

Wait.

Did you say ‘love you’ to Loki? Your brain slowly swung back to the memory and your eyes widened when you heard the words in your own voice. 

Oh shit. You hurried back to the elevator, cut short by the appearance of a firm chest in your narrowed field of vision.

“Did we perhaps realise what we said, love?” Loki whispered, hoping he looked not the least bit flustered by your casual admission. His arms caught you and held you close before he caught your lips. 

“Loki…” you breathed and he chuckled. 

“I might be persuaded to remind you come morning.” 

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Tags: @kindadolly

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@satan-ate-my-sandwitch

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[kurogxrix]

Rain Hell

[part one]

Viking!Bucky x Wife!reader

IN WHICH Your husband Bucky sets chaos in the village as he fails to find the midwife, in suspicion of you being pregnant.

WC: 2.6k

Warnings: pure chaos, mentions of pregnancy, FLUFF, suggestive, allusions to smut/no explicit smut, Bucky accidentally walking in on people.

It’d been a couple of days past the assumption of a possible pregnancy, albeit your husband and you had yet to do anything about it. Well Bucky had wanted to go forward with the whole midwife situation, but you’d always find some creative excuse to lure him back into the hut to sit his ass down instead of going running around the village. Sometimes you’d lure him in with the mere scent of that delicious fruit pudding you made the best, and on other days all you had to do was unravel your dress and he was a goner. 

Everything was going according to plan, your husband was either kept in the warmth of your arms inside of your beloved tent, or out hunting with the other men. You couldn’t help the pang of worry that overcame your senses at the mention of a child, and perhaps that was why you had been running from the subject for far too long. 

Yet as you dug your head further into the feather-stuffed pillow, your husband adorning his favourite spot between your legs as his arms caged your head, all of your worries and doubts completely dissipated. Your ears blocked out the sound of all outside tumult but the erotic sounds of your husband's deep breaths. You could feel the warm exhale upon your collarbone as he caught his breath, strong arms holding his sturdy frame up, above you.

You took a moment to admire the hunk hovering over you, the way his eyebrows relaxed from their scrunched up position. Sweat rolled down the side of his face as an equivalent of the absolute workout he’d put the both of you through, dampening the little hairs by his forehead. Your eyes moved simultaneously with your hands, unlatching from his shoulders and further down onto his toned stomach. Bucky shuddered as you ran your fingertips down the curve of his muscles, racking his body with goosebumps. 

Finally, he relaxed his eyelids to reveal those baby blue iris that you loved so much. 

“If i hadn’t planted a baby inside of you before, i'm sure that i did now.” he boasted, a warm smile plastered on his face. For the first time in a while, the whole baby thing hadn’t scared you. Maybe it was because you were too fucked out to even care, but a part of you screamed that you were ready. And it wasn’t like you didn’t believe his words either, the sticky feeling of your combined arousals lapped down your thighs in dismay. 

Silence burned at your tent as you allowed your eyes to look away from your husband’s awaiting iris for a second, letting the thoughts consume you before you could give a comprehensive answer back. Images of a whiny baby burned at your mind, angry as its tiny fists drummed at your chest in discontentment. Like their own father, maybe, if they’d grow up to be your child. A grumpy man who’d grow up attached to you beyond breaking after months of fighting back the feeling. 

You couldn’t wait to sit back in the thick grass as you watched your husband teach your kids how to wield a bow, making them fierce warriors for when the time was right. 

“Everything’s alright up there?” Bucky settled his entire weight down onto your body as he lied down upon you, his head tilting up to meet your gaze. A stark contrast to the Bucky that spent hours chasing down huge beasts or taking down men of opposing regions, he melted like putty in your embrace. You huffed as he got comfortable above you, squishing you down into the comfortable array of furs but you couldn’t say that you were complaining. 

“Everything’s alright…Maybe we should call the midwife to confirm if you’re right or not.” you whispered the last part out, as though scared to even utter the words. Your nails ran lightly down his back as the tip of your fingers felt around for the battle scars that he’d acquired over the years. You could feel Bucky’s body stiffening at the sound of your words, making you groan in unease as he pressed you further down into the soft fabrics. 

Rolling off of you, Bucky stared at you for a quick second before recovering and rising into his elbows for proper leverage. He wasn’t a daft man by any means, it was easy to read somebody’s body language and mannerisms when you’d spent so many years together. He’d never missed the ways your shoulders would tighten as the mention of the midwife, or how you’d always find something to do coincidently every time he asked you if you wanted to go get checked out for your potential pregnancy or not. 

He’d known that the prospect of children scared you…terrified you even, and if there was anything that Bucky wanted for you, it was to feel unsafe. He’d seen what could and had happened to the early mothers and their children, their equipment and techniques were still underdeveloped, it was bound to fail at most occasions. 

If you weren’t ready for the risks then he’d stop nagging you with that everlasting dream of his, and if you said that you weren’t ready yet then he’d wait until his very own end for you. Although now, to hear you talk about wanting to confirm this pregnancy on your own accord made Bucky feel like he was dreaming. 

“Pray that you’re serious right now, or I swear to the gods above that I'm going to take a walk outside and once I'm back you won’t even be able to feel those legs of yours.” your heartbeat picked up at the husky sound of his so said ‘threat’, knowing damn well that he was not one to forswear. 

Plus, how could you renounce your decision at the sight of those hope filled eyes. You braced yourself for the possible prospect of his dream getting crushed, tainting your husband’s happiness in its route. Though you had this nagging feeling at the back of your head that it was true, that you were going to extend that family of yours in just a few months and you’d be damned for wanting to know just a little bit before you could potentially start to show. 

“I am.” you smiled up at him, simply. The look on your husband’s face was enough to have your stomach churning, but not with apprehension. Suddenly, you kinda wished he’d take you upon that threat he’d just promised you of, and you thought of lying for a second to get your way with him.

Nevertheless, with a quick kiss on your forehead and a promise to be back soon, the bulky viking was soon out of the tent, and onto his search for the midwife. 

-

Disaster, chaos and confusion. That was all that Bucky had experienced in the past hour that he’d left your shared tent. So far all he’d managed to do was step into a poor old lady’s flower garden, accidently set a half of the cattle free and low and behold, accidently walked in on a neighbouring couple.

Bucky winced at the memory, still fresh on his mind as he was set on finding that damned midwife. It hadn’t necessarily been on his agenda to just barge in on the poor couple like this. Plus, he’d be damned if this was some sort of fucking mating season for the women because fuck, from every hut that he’d consult, all he’d get for an answer was that “she’s probably with-“ and then the name would change every single fucking time. 

‘How many goddamn women did the midwife need to consult today anyways?’ Bucky thought as he stomped away. 

He was dead worried about you, alone in your little home wondering where he’d run off to, because he sure as hell couldn’t be out looking for that lone midwife in that tiny village of yours for a whole hour. 

He worried if you were ok, if you and the baby needed anything. Stupidly, he was already sure that you were carrying his child, and like any stubborn man, he wanted to prove it right to you. 

Bucky’s heavy weight dragged on with his boots, carving deep boot marks into the thin layer of snow that covered the ground. His thick beard and tied up hair were collecting snow the more he stood outside, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He was a hunter after all, he’d been out in harsher weathers for longer periods of time. 

He thought back at you again, and how soon the village would have to move with the arrival of snow to make it back to the main village where you could all refuge back under the comfort of your longhouse, and for most, their own familial huts. 

Bucky shook his head, deciding that he’d focus on such matters once he’d made his way back home to his wife. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy as he approached the last tent for the day. Sure the village wasn’t big, but it felt like such a chore going from tent to tent while the whole village was busy and active. It was tiring moving through and questioning the restless crowd, and truly, he was just afraid of falling on another unexpecting couple like he had just done…

Now standing right before the entrance of the tent, Bucky allowed himself to relax, and take a minute to make peace with his surroundings. From a very young age, Bucky’s mother had noticed how his

abilities had been heightened from the other boys his age. He was smarter, stronger and had developed senses more intense than the men around him. He was taller and also seemed to heal slightly faster than the men that he’d grown up with, and that earned him an adequate place amidst the fighters. 

Almost like he had been granted some sort of

super-human gift from the above.

He’d often struggled with the concept of having grown with such unprecedented abilities, and for a while, all that life had been for Bucky was putting his gift to use by helping the ones around him. To this day he bore scars that proved his good favours, and he’d once lost himself along the way, stuck in an endless loop of violence and self-loath. 

Then… you came along, and everything that he’d ever known had flown straight out the window. You showed Bucky a soft side that only his mother and sister ever had, and banished every memory of his father’s cruel touch. You’d saved him, and for that he'd love you forever. 

He’d long since retired from a fighter to a hunter since they hadn’t had much confrontations as of recently, and he prayed for your sake that it stayed in such a way. He begged for you to continue and live in a healthy environment, and if you were to welcome a child of his in this world, then gods would he pray on his knees night and day for things to remain the way they were. 

Nevertheless, Bucky took a moment to stay out. Closing his eyes, the (in all hopes) soon-to-be father tilted an ear out to the world around him. He could hear the neighbours chanting, some jolly and some simply drunk at the hour. He could hear the children running around, entertaining themselves as best as they could while being away from home, and an unexpected smile rose upon his lips.

And then-

“-ould stay out of the tent a little, some fresh air should do you some good.” 

The midwife, Andora. Lord knows what she’s been conversing about, but Bucky knew that it had

to have been her. She was the lone midwife in their tribe and it was hard to mistake her for another. Yet as Bucky outstretched the flaps of the tent’s opening apart, the frown on his face reappeared at the unwelcoming, unfamiliar faces before him. 

Disappointed, he’d left the tent silently, offering no explanations and no excuses to the offended neighbours. 

-

Devastated as he dragged his feet back home,

Bucky didn’t allow it to show on his face. Sure if someone were to acknowledge him on his frustrated walk back home, they’d just assume that he was angry and to just leave him alone. By the way that his eyebrows were furrowed into that usual angry angle, it was obvious that he shouldn’t be messed with at the moment. 

Bucky was simply done for the day, sick of all of his misfortune and needing to have you near to ground him like you always did. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t ashamed of facing you, after being out for what felt like hours just to come back home alone. It felt like one of those deceptive hunts where he’d come back empty handed, ashamed and waspish as he stood under the people’s disappointed glances. 

He couldn’t remember the time he’d last had felt as conflicted as then, standing before the entrance of his own home. His displeased expression further stretched out on his face at the sound of your voice, which would normally bring him joy, was now conversing to someone he couldn’t quite make out who. 

He wasted no time pushing his large stature through the door, the thick fabric of your tent pushing back against his broad shoulders in resistance. Suddenly, Bucky froze at the sight before him, baby blue eyes wide at the sight of you all cozied up on your makeshift bed all while Andora sat besides you.

She was talking to you and you had been listening intently before both of your attentions had been derived by the sudden arrival of your husband. A smile lifted upon Andora’s face as did you, delighted that he’d finally made it back home. 

“Got lost out there?” you teased, giggling at the sight of that semi-permanent frown that he wore. Bucky should’ve been mad, really, he’d spent the whole evening frustrated trying to find that god damned midwife that had just seemed to have disappeared from all sights, just to find you and herself in his own tent conversing. 

“Can’t lie and say I didn’t.” he grumbled, amidst the way he eagerly made it back to you. Under all the annoyance that Bucky had lived through that evening, he was all the most happy to see that at least you’d managed to have a moment with the midwife, and now you didn’t need to delay the check up that you were bound to receive. 

Baby blue iris were bound, stuck on you as Andora shuffled in the corner of his eye. He couldn’t even seem to care for what she’d said, probably muttering a farewell as she exited the premises of your home. 

Then the question had left him, sounding muted to his own ears as all he could hear was the excited beating of his heart. He couldn’t focus on anything else but that gigantic smile you wore on your face, a blurry memory of you standing and embracing him like you did whenever he came back from a hunt, him wrapping his arms around you after coming back to his senses, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around all while indulging in the sweet symphony of your roaring laughter. 

Words, kisses and even tears had been shared that night and amongst the instances of exhilaration, the sight of a green blanket appeared in Bucky’s line of sight. There, in that instant, Bucky had vowed that  if even the gods above couldn’t shelter you, he’d rain hell on whoever would try to endanger his little family… 

His little family of 3 this time. 

-

hey babes, sorry that this took so long so come out:( Anyways, you’ve probably forgot about this fanfic already but i’m still tagging everyone who asked for it since like last year😭

@drewsuncrustables @itsmytimetoodream @ravenmoore14 @aoi-targaryen @sebastians-love

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐MRS HOLLYWOOD

summary — in which hasan is caught in the loop of a cyclical relationship with hollywood’s biggest star

pairings — hasan piker x fem!unnamed!actress!oc

pronouns — she/her

word count — 736

note — based on mrs hollywood by go-jo. just a small little thing to get me out of my writer’s block — its nothing special

ON AGAIN, OFF AGAIN.

how many more times was he going to respond to another text? how many more times was he going to leave the key to his house under the doormat?

hasan knew better. at thirty-three he had enough life skills and knowledge to avoid things that used to rope him in a decade ago. perhaps that was why he had matured to a certain extent, but that didn't seem to extend to her.

she was glitz and glamour, a pretty picture splashed across a canvas and decorated to the brim with jewellery. the centre of so many hit films, it seemed that being the centre of hasan piker's world was the only one that mattered.

hasan knew better than to keep letting her back in. she was the same toxicity of a drug, and twice as addictive. she was never around, always departing to go star in the next big thing, never sending a text or bothering to call unless she wanted something.

“you’re always MIA,” he mumbled, the stars shining through his window as the moon kept watch. “where do you go?”

“not everyone works from home,” she mumbled back, closing her eyes as she tucked herself into the large arm he had around her.

“when can we go back?” he tried again. hasan’s fingers tangled in her hair, soothing against her scalp. “this is killing me.”

she remained silent. she couldn’t settle down, running away was all she’d ever known. long-term never worked because then she couldn’t escape, but the excuse of work was wearing thin. she knew hasan didn’t believe her anymore. for fucks sake, most of her filming locations were maybe thirty minutes from his house. it’s not like she was halfway across the fucking globe or anything.

“i can’t,” she answered in a dull fashion, “all you do is work, i’m the same—“

“but you’re not,” he cut her off. it was hard to be upset when they were skin to skin, kept decent by a thin sheet. “it’s been five fucking years.”

“you can forget about me,” she tried to roll out from his arms, but he only tightened them in response. “let me go, has.”

“you can’t keep running,” he said calmly, refusing to raise his voice at her. he used to years ago when things were rockier and her tendencies were dripping with toxic sludge, but it was never the solution. she would just disappear for longer, surfacing in milan or some other foreign place for a day or two before she fell off the map again. “there’s nowhere left for you. this can be your home, too.”

home for her was an apartment in the heart of hollywood. she owned a smaller one in malibu, but neither were home. it was just a place to sleep on the nights she wasn’t staying in hasan’s large bed. there weren’t family memories in the walls like the walls in his house, or the smell of home cooked meals on the occasion that his mother was around and willing. it was just empty — grey walls and white couches, picture frames scarce unless it was one that had been gifted to her after a successful film.

there's nowhere left for you. where hadn't she gone? travelling wasn't just for film locations, it was to get away — to escape things she didn't need to anymore, to continue to feel something by doing all she ever knew how to. packing a few things and fucking off was so easy, running never got tiring . . . but she was nearing thirty. soon enough she would have to settle down somewhere to keep herself grounded, to keep herself afloat.

hasan was offering that. could she take it? it was the easy way out, a way to find that stability that she never could seem to take before.

"just . . . at least stay until morning," he tried one last time, rolling onto his side to press closer to her as if that was the solution to her constant disappearances. "i'll try to make you breakfast."

"mhm, maybe," was all she could mumble, succumbing to the warmth of his body heat and falling into a peaceful slumber.

HASAN woke up the next morning to an empty left side of the bed, the blankets neatly made where she had slept as if she had never been there to begin with. just like always.

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Eight

Summary: Justice is served, feelings are realized.

Warnings/Notes: 18+ & over! P in V consensual sex, implied violence…death in the coliseum, drinking, old time thoughts about the gods & life.

Sol Invictus: Roman god of the Sun, Pluto: Roman god of Death, & Ursa: Bear

❤️s, comments, feedback & reblogs are always welcome! Thank you for reading! (A bit long!)

Sitting in the royal box of the coliseum made you nervous. You had only stood and served prior to this day. As you settled in your seat you felt like all the eyes were on you. You knew that wasn’t the truth of the matter but it didn’t help. Your heart kept a steady beat.

“Don’t worry. The eyes will be on me soon enough.”

Startled, you glanced at Geta. A slow smile spread across his face.

You glanced around the intensity of his gaze made you shift where you sat. Taking a breath before looking back at him. “Sire?”

“Justice is going to be served.”

“Good.”

*******

This was going on to send ripples in the water. He looked forward to seeing if it would bring about a storm. Regardless, the earth will be free of one enemy. Perhaps, others will scurry out of the shadows and reveal themselves.

The herald, called for the attention of the vast audience. Trumpets sounded. He felt as if the gods, were on his side as he walked to edge of the royal box.

“People of Rome!”

He shouted. A thick silence fell over the arena, it ceased what remaining words flew from people’s lips.

“People of Rome!” He repeated, he looked over the seats.

“When dawn broke this morning, before Sol Invictus flew across the sky to bring us the sun; a man snuck into my dwelling. He wished for me to meet, Pluto.”

The crowd erupted. He allowed them to scream their disgust, their unpleasantness.

Easily, the herald brought the coliseum once more the order.

“My trusted guards, have questioned him.”

He let his lips curl into a wide smile.

“And it is here I will let you all witness justice. You will see what happens to anyone who tries to end my life.”

The clanging of metal filled the colosseum as the gates rose up, the man beaten and bruised was brought out. Seeing his condition pleased him greatly.

“Now, I will allow you and the gods to choose his final fight.”

A snarl followed by a loud, guttural roar filled the arena. A lion, pounced and rocked his iron cage. He circled in the small space eager to be released.

“Shall we allow a lion have its way?” He called out.

The man now standing by himself could be seen trembling at the place the guards had walked him too.

The creaking of a much larger cage came into the arena. Just as some of the loose sand was kicked up in a breeze and blew when a roar from the depths of its belly was heard. A bear, far taller than serval men stood on its hind legs and banged against his cage. Spit, fangs were bared as it roared once more.

“Who shall this assassin be brought to justice by?”

The crowd went wild. Their screams, their cheers were far louder than both of the beasts that were in the arena.

He watched from his perch, the man fell to his knees. His eyes, which had once been filled with hatred and malice now were watery and full of pleading, remaining on his knees. He completely forgot the sword the guards had dropped near him as he appeared to cry out with pleas for mercy. The man who had wanted him dead not that long ago.

A laugh erupted from his throat and he threw back his head in amusement. His crown of golden leaves remained where it rested atop his head.

Power, surged through him. He spread out his arms. He got his answer. It was as if the words had been whispered in his ear.

“The gods have spoken!” He hollered.

The crowd, once again silenced.

“Today, a bear is what deliver the sentence!”

The men who drew out the lion, returned it to the shadowy tunnels where they fed and kept it ready for any match or punishment.

The men who brought in the bear, bowed to him before turning to the locks that held the bear secure.

The man jumped to his feet, barely able to grab the sword left for him. He bowed quickly. That irked Geta, but he would be dead soon enough, he mused.

The bear, shook himself off ignoring the men who retreated back to passageway from which they came. He appeared to look around.

“Be the hands of the gods, great Ursa!” Geta called out.

The bear rose at his words, letting out a roar. He had been trained well. Geta smiled. The bear finally saw the man. He lowered himself onto all fours.

“Now for justice.” He said softly and caught the eyes of you, his brother who actually looked pleased for the first time in a while and the general. Who looked actually ill at ease. he shrugged it off. He knew he liked the freedom of a battle. The landscape of the earth beneath his feet as he fought along side his legion with a sword in hand.

Sitting down, he saw as the bear and the man clashed. A scream and roar mingled and became one. The man did manage to graze the bear’s shoulder with the blade before he was knocked into the air from the full force of the bear. A fight ensued.

Geta, glanced away to see you. There was a flush in your cheeks and your eyes looked as if a storm had rolled in, reminding him of how you spoke of things to him. But your emotions, he couldn’t be certain of. He watched as you turned towards him, surely you felt his gaze up you. Your eyes met his.

“He is getting what he deserves for what he attempted to do. In the underworld, he will never forget.” You said, with a great strength behind it.

It pleased him.

“Yes. And he will know that a girl, who is as delicate as a spring’s bloom saw him and foiled his dark, devious deeds.”

“Anything to keep you and Rome, safe and at peace, Sire.”

********

“I had thought, you told the others we would be joining them for the festivities being held. Food, dancers would be brought out for your pleasure.”

Your stomach was still in knots, after watching the man torn apart by the bear and fights that had been held after to further celebrate the justice that had been severed. The gladiators had fought with great pride that afternoon.

Wine, the fruit did nothing to calm you. A shadow of what could have been, fell over your heart. If you had not returned for his crest that held your clothing, it would have been a completely different day. You were certain of it.

Your place, would be different. You would mostly would have been in that arena. You knew in your heart that Caracalla despised you. Though, with this glorious delivering of justice and Geta’s kind words, you would continue to live, to breath.

“That is true. They will be. Wine, will be poured. Toasts will be made. Words, will fly in my praise. Though as a man, an emperor I wish to take a moment.”

“If that is your will, Geta. I can give you some solitude if it is what you wish?”

A light chuckle came from him. You glanced at him, his eyes that met yours were bright as if the sun itself was blessing the fresh earth it chose to shine upon.

“No, that is not what I wish.”

The warmth of his hand on your lower back could be felt through the soft fabrics you wore. He easily guided you to his quarters. Once the door, closed behind the two of you.

“I need to be one with you.”

“Geta?”

“Yes?”

You watched as he carefully took his crown off and laid it on a table near where the two of you stood. Your heart quickened in your chest. With quick pace, he was in front of you.

“This is a pleasure, the great Venus has given us. I wish to feel it once again.”

His fingers grazed the curve of your jaw.

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I wish to feel it as well. But then shall I retire for the evening?”

He shook his head. “No, we shall go and enjoy the banquet, watch the dancers. I want one of my favorite possessions at my side.” He smiled.

Something about his words, that smile made a fluttering in your stomach. It was the very emperor, that wished for you and no one else. In all the stars and prayers you made, would have been something you ever thought would be bestowed upon you.

“This will be our own display of gratitude to the gods for the justice served today.”

His thumb grazed your lips, your heart began to thud like the night before. If not harder since now you knew what you would be feeling.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

********

“Wait?”

“Yes?”

He let his eyes move over you. A softening of his words, that came to his tongue urged him to speak. You had been the to save his life. Not the guards that stood outside his door.

“You are far lovelier than any fresco, in my domus. I will have to fetch in artist in the coming seasons.”

“Truly Geta?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

His hand glided down your soft side, the fabrics made you only more pleasing. He brought his hands to your hips and squeezed. You winced, parting those flower petal pink lips.

“Just as your breasts, shall be good for a baby to eventually suckle these hips,” He smiled. “These hips,” He repeated will help carry that baby. A real gift from the gods.”

“You think so, Geta?”

Your breathless, made him pull you against him. He loved how you felt against him. Made his desire in his lions for you tighten.

“Certainly. Now go and lay down.”

“What of my clothes? Will they not be amiss?”

“No one will take sight.”

He watched as you went and laid down and pulled aside where the fabrics met and parted ways.

“Remove the scrap of modesty fabric, I want nothing to hinder me.”

Stepping closer, he finally he freed himself. The coolness of his room gave him a gentle relief from the heat of his passion. He came to kneel beside you, open and ready to receive him.

“Do you want to see more of me, Geta?”

“Yes, that would be very pleasing.”

His heart squeezed as he watched you pull the folds of fabric away from your full breasts. You were truly his own living piece of art. The gods, truly pleased him with giving you to him.

The soft sound from your lips as he entered you and the one that came from him became one. It felt so good.

“You were made for me.” He managed to say before he began moving in and out of you.

Your body tightened as your moans grew louder. He had braced himself on the bed underneath the two of you. Easily, he lost himself in his passion as it took ahold of him.

“Yes, yes let me hear you.”

“Yes, Geta. My emperor.” Your moans and breathlessness grew louder, stronger.

His body tightened as he felt his pleasure growing. That’s when he remembered the soft bud at the apex of your legs, the ones that caused you flutter around his length. He needed to feel that again. Reached down, his thumb gently grazing it. Your body matched and moved with him.

“Give yourself to the pleasure. Let it fill you.” He urged you.

He let his thumb graze your soft bud once more. Your moans filled his room with more beauty than a lyre and seeing that he was the cause, made him move even deeper into you. Causing, his pleasure to finally come over him, and soon he was filling you with the seed only he possessed. The strength he felt earlier came over him. He felt as everything had the soft glow a sunset would give all within its reach.

*******

“These are the dancers from the new providence brother, are they not divine?” Caracalla, leaned in smiling as he nodded to one who swished near. Hints of jasmine, lingered in her wake.

“Yes. I knew that alliance would reap several good tidings.” Geta, smile and sipped at his wine.

At the moment, he was still settling into the comfort from the pleasure you and him shared. Everyone, there was in good spirits even his brother. Turmoil between them could come back another day but tonight there could be peace.

He knew of the history of Romulus and Remus, he truly wished that history would not befall him and Caracalla. Though, he would never push away the lingering of his trust he had for his brother in his heart.

As you sat near Geta and watched the dancers while nibbling on some fruit. Something blossomed in you. After, his pleasure had taken him over, he had for moment pulled you closer to him while his breathing finally calmed. He glanced back at you from over his glass, as if he had known your thoughts and gave a fleeting smile, it stirred a warmth in you.

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