#curious of where they were going and how they walked with so many legs.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can you write something where Rafe falls for a girl in a committed relationship but the guy she’s with (who is a kook) just isn’t nice to her? Lots of angst plsssss

Please, please, please || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request 💗

Warnings: smoking, reader having alochol problems, swearing, reader x toxic!bf

Word count: 1,168

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“And please, please, please, don’t bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice. Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another, I beg you, don’t embarrass me motherfucker.”

“Trouble in paradise, three o’clock,” Topper mutters, letting out a low whistle as he leans against the porch railing. Rafe turns his head to see the source of the commotion. “Stop being so selfish!” Jacques, your boyfriend, shouts as he storms out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

“I don’t want to do it,” you retort, spinning around to face him on the other side of the vehicle, your eyes blazing with defiance. “How many fucking favors have I done for you? And yet you can’t even do one for me?” Jacques rages, his voice rising with frustration.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Jacques,” you snap back, your voice cold and resolute as you slam his car door and start to walk away. In a fit of rage, Jacques slams his hand down on the roof of the car, the sound reverberating through the tense air. “Don’t slam my car, you fucking selfish bitch!” he yells, his words dripping with venom. You fight back tears, your vision blurring as you refuse to look back.

“Shit,” Topper mutters under his breath, watching the scene unfold with a mix of concern and disbelief. Rafe’s eyes follow you as you hurry up the stairs and disappear into the house. “I don’t know how she’s still with him when he treats her like absolute shit,” Topper says, shaking his head in dismay.

~

Rafe had his eyes trained on you the entire dinner, even though you were seated at the far end of the table. His gaze was intense, unwavering, and concerned as he watched the tension between you and Jacques escalate.

As the bickering between you and Jacques grew more heated, Rafe’s expression hardened. You pushed your chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the polished floor, drawing the attention of everyone around the table.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jacques hissed, his hand shooting out to yank your arm down with a grip that made you wince in pain. “Let go of me, Jacques,” you seethed through gritted teeth, your voice low, trying to maintain a composed facade as your parents and a few other guests turned their heads in curiosity and concern.

“Don’t make a scene, okay?” Jacques warned, his voice dripping with irritation and a hint of desperation. “I’m not making a scene, you are!” you snapped back, your voice rising slightly as you yanked your arm free from his grip. With a final glare, you grabbed your purse and stormed out onto the verandah, the screen door slamming shut behind you with a resounding bang.

Rafe’s eyes followed your every movement, his jaw clenched in anger. “Excuse me for a moment,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of the other diners. Pushing back his chair, he rose from the table, his movements deliberate and controlled, and followed you outside.

As he stepped onto the verandah, the cool night air hit him, and he saw you standing by the railing, your back to him, shoulders shaking slightly. He approached you cautiously, his footsteps soft on the wooden planks. “You good?” Rafe’s voice was gentle, filled with genuine concern as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You flinch at his touch, turning your head slightly to the side. Quickly, you raise the back of your hand to wipe the spilt alcohol from the corner of your lips. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you stutter, hastily shoving the flask back into your purse as Rafe watches with a curious gaze.

“You sure? ’Cause you and your boyfriend don’t seem fine,” Rafe remarks, pulling a lighter and a cigarette packet from his pocket. He lights a cigarette with a swift, practiced motion, the flame briefly illuminating his concerned expression.

You stay quiet, the awkward silence stretching as you wonder if he saw the earlier confrontation. “Jacques just has a short temper sometimes, no big deal,” you chuckle awkwardly, your back pressing against the verandah railing. Rafe scoffs, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his eyes fixed on the dark, rippling water below.

“Why are you defending him? He’s a fucking prick, y/n,” Rafe says, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief. You knew Rafe was right. The truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you felt exposed and vulnerable. Your mind raced, replaying the countless times Jacques’ temper had flared, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

“I… I don’t know,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s complicated.” Rafe takes a deep drag of his cigarette, then flicks the ash away, his eyes never leaving yours. “It doesn’t have to be. You deserve better than that bastard,” he says, his tone softening. “You don’t have to put up with his shit, y’know that right?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you look down, unable to meet Rafe’s intense gaze. The weight of his words, the truth in them, felt both comforting and overwhelming. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, the cool night air filling your lungs.

“I know,” you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. “So then, why are you still with him.” He retorts, his face hard as he intensely stares at your face. You look out over the verandah, a small sigh escaping your lips.

“I’ve been with Jacques for so long, it’s hard to remember what life was like before him,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly, “I keep hoping he’ll change, but it never happens.” Rafe lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

“Wake up y/n, people like Jacques rarely change. They promise they will, but it’s just words. You deserve someone who respects you, who doesn’t hurt you.” You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. “I know. I guess I’ve just been afraid to admit it. Afraid what my parents would say.”

"Who cares what your parents think?" Rafe scoffs, his tone dismissive. You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of their judgments. "They've got plenty to say about my drinking," you admit, shrugging. Rafe studies your side profile, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"They'll get over it. Jacques is a prick anyway," he replies nonchalantly, taking another drag from his cigarette before handing it to you. "Thanks," you mutter, accepting it and taking a long pull, watching the smoke swirl and dance in the air.

"I should probably head back," you say suddenly, passing the cigarette back to him. Rafe nods, stubbing it out. "Yeah, me too," he says, clearing his throat and smoothing down his shirt.

"Thanks, Rafe. For being here for me," you say sincerely, meeting his gaze. "Anytime, y/n. I'm always here for you," he replies with a warm smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. You nod, offering a small smile before heading back inside.

[chaepink]

My Kind of Present | sub!gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, praise, use of a vibrator, slight degradation, bondage, ooc gojo kinda, fluffy ending

note: I’m back yall 🫶 also this is Christmas inspired so pretend it’s December again

The noise of your shoes on the stairs throughout the building you're in as you walk upstairs to your and Gojo's shared apartment. After struggling to open the door to the place, you finally enter, a wave of exhaustion hitting you after being out and around the entire day.

However, you notice something odd.

The place is eerily quiet, almost as if no one is home.

You remember the text Gojo sent you an hour or so ago. He had told you to quickly return from your errands for a surprise with a winky face after it and you rolled your eyes when you read it. Though you knew of his rather stupid stunts all the time, you couldn't help but be curious as to what the surprise was this time. Especially if he had only texted you once when he would usually bombard you with multiple text messages, begging you to hurry home.

After hanging up your coat and putting away the groceries, you make your way to the living room where you assume Gojo would be. However, when you get closer and closer to the room, you start to hear a faint whimpering sound coming from within that sounds suspiciously like Gojo. You would know of course.

The bright lights of your Christmas tree slightly blind you as you walk in but that's not what catches your eye. Instead, what catches your eye is what's underneath the tree. Well rather next to it. No, you're not talking about the many presents that you and Gojo bought for each other either, rather it's Gojo himself. There he is on his back, all tied in red ribbon that's wrapped around him in such an intricate way you have no idea how he even managed to do so by himself.

The sight makes the words you were going to say die on your tongue, your mouth agape and dry at the sight. Gojo hears your steps enter the room and his head shoots towards you, excitement in his eyes.

"Surprise [name]!" You rapidly blink to make sure you're seeing it all correctly but it all stays the same. Gojo looks almost like a present with the way he's tied so prettily in the ribbon and you assume that's exactly what he was going for. Except, there was no wrapping paper and Gojo was fully naked except for the ribbon adorning his chest, arms, and legs.

You walk towards him, stopping right in front of him. Confusion is shown on your face while Gojo has a huge dorky grin on his face, clearly pleased with your reaction so far.

"What's.. What's this Gojo?" Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as if the answer isn't obvious. "It's your Christmas present, of course!"

Your eyes roam his body and your eyes widen even more in disbelief at the sight of a fucking gift bow on his dick. This wasn't even close to what you were expecting as a surprise from Gojo when he texted you but the more you take in the unexpected sight, the more you start to like it.

You notice that his hands are behind his back and you assume that it's been tied together somehow.

Gojo's previous confident demeanor fades away and he swallows nervously at your intense stare on his body, feeling your eyes looking at everything. He has to hold back a shiver, not from the cold but rather from how you're looking down at him with hunger in your eyes. Though his ankles aren't tied together, Gojo had squeezed them together to try to hide his hard dick.

"Do you... like it?" You grin at him. "Oh baby I love it, you look so pretty like this." Gojo flushes red which only compliments the red ribbon on him even more. "I can't believe you did this just for me. If I knew, I would've arrived back so much earlier."

Gojo pouts and glances away from you nervously. "Um, c-can you help me?" You furrow your eyebrows at him. "You want to get out of the ribbon already?" Gojo shakes his head rapidly. Before you could ask him what he meant, he slowly spreads his legs together to reveal his now hard dick to you.

"You got hard just from my praise? Or were you already hard when I arrived here?" You chuckle. "I didn't even touch you yet or anything either." Gojo whines at your teasing. You're about to tease him again before your eyes catch onto the vibrator attached to his dick and you choke on your spit.

"Shit gojo. You just love surprising me, don't you?" Gojo flushes and you glance around. "Where's the remote, baby?' You see Gojo turn to his head and motion towards the small remote on top of a nearby table and you're quick to grab it.

"W-Wait don't a-ah shit!" You immediately increase the vibration setting and watch as he squirms on the ground, his head thrashing side to side at the intensity of the pleasure. His knees are up and you place a hand on one to keep him still. You lean over his figure and chuckle.

"I guess Santa got what I wanted for Christmas this year," you tease, a wide grin threatening to spread on your face. Gojo lets out a small cry but being the huge flirt he always is, he simply shoots back with his retort. Well, he tries to at least. "Y-You ngh asked S-Santa for me to ha be n-naked and tied in red ribbon? ah!"

You chuckle. "Well not exactly, but I would like to say it's pretty close." You watch as pre cum leaks from his tip steadily, only adding to the erotic scene in front of you.

Gojo squirms under your hungry and intense gaze. The ribbon tied around his wrists prevents him from touching you and although he's able to break out of them if he wants to, you know he won't. Every time he moves, the ribbon wrapped around his chest rubs against his nipple, causing it to harden and send a bolt of pleasure up his spine.

As Gojo soon realizes that you're not planning to touch him, he only whimpers. "Touch m-me [name]! Please..." You hold down onto his knee more, leaning forward as you look down on him. The sudden adrenaline rush you're getting from the feeling of having Gojo underneath you begging for your touch only adds to your desire to ruin him. From this view, you're able to see the way his muscles flex and tighten against the ribbon, your eyes raking over his sculpted body.

You pretend to think about his plea, tapping on your chin as if you're actually considering it. You see hope flash in Gojo's eyes before you turn back towards him with a wicked grin.

"How about... no?" You giggle when Gojo whines, his eyes never leaving the remote in your hand. You feign a pout at him. "You surprised me with all this, shouldn't I get to enjoy it, baby?"

Gojo swallows and tries to stutter out a response through a moan that escapes his mouth, reminding him that the vibrator is still against his dick and on too. "Y-Yeah but..." You raise an eyebrow at him, urging him to finish his sentence but Gojo only turns his head away from you, face flushed red. Though subtle, you feel his legs spread wider for you as he shuts his eyes. He eagerly nods.

"P-Please use me..." You grin and immediately turn the toy onto high, watching in amusement as Gojo's body jerks and arches beautifully. "Oh glady, baby." His eyes shoot open and you see how they're glazed over. Almost as if he's about to cry.

You coo at him. "Gonna cry already, baby? Just from a mere toy in your ass and some bondage?" Gojo cries weakly at you. Sure it was just a toy but it was a large one at that, one that Gojo has been nervous to try up until now. Though of course he's not regretting it now, fully immersed in the pleasure as sparks shock his body throughout.

You have to swallow down the lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up. Gojo quickly warns you he's close, his loud noises filling the room that would surely cause a noise complaint to arrive at your door tomorrow but you could care less at the moment.

"Go on baby, make a mess of yourself for me." Babbling out thank you's and pleas, you watch as he cums, the white substance covering his stomach, some even on his chest and on the ribbon. You quickly turn off the toy in him and watch as he slumps against the floor, his chest heaving as he tries to recover from the intense orgasm he just had.

Walking to where his face lay, you peck his cheek. "Stay here, alright? I'll go grab a wet cloth and clean you up." But as you stand up, Gojo's hand grabs your wrist and you widen your eyes. You didn't even realize he slipped his hands out of the bondage.

You stare at him as Gojo looks at you, heavy breaths leaving his mouth. "Could we... could we take this to the bedroom?" It takes you a few seconds but it then hits you that he's suggesting a round two and you only giggle.

"Seriously? You want another round?" Gojo nods eagerly and you move to untie the ribbon but he stops you, sitting up. "Could I keep it on? I-I kinda like it and it's only my chest anyways and-" He soon realizes he's rambling and cuts himself off. You giggle and grab his face.

"Of course, baby. You'll always be the best present I could ask for.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤️ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[vanteguccir]

one where chris and matt go to las Vegas and while reader is helping matt doing his suitcase he asks her to give him her perfume and he sprays it all over his shirts "so that he can always feel like she's with him and other girls know not to even approach him" and reader is all giddy happy and in love with him

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where Matt asks you to spray your perfume on his suitcase before Vegas

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

Matt's room was a mess of half-folded clothes, scattered toiletries, and an open suitcase that seemed to mock his attempts at the organization. He stood in the center of the chaos, hands on his hips, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Baby, I need help. I have no idea what I'm doing."

Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book in hands, laughed softly, her eyes meeting his momentarily.

"Matt, it's just packing. How hard can it be?"

"Easy for you to say." Matt grumbled, shooting her a playful glare. "You’re not the one trying to fit a weekend's worth of stuff into this tiny suitcase."

She shook her head, smiling at his exaggerated distress.

"Come on, hon, let's do this together." She hopped off the bed, putting her book aside before starting sorting through the clothes. "Okay, let's start with the essentials. How many shirts do you need?"

Matt scratched his head.

"Uh, I dunno. Five? One for each day?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, smiling to herself.

"Plus a couple of extras in case something happens. Trust me, you’ll need them."

As she began folding the shirts, Matt watched her, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. She was always there for him, no matter how small or big the task was.

He walked in short steps towards her, dodging some items thrown on the floor. His arms quickly found her body, encircling her waist lightly. He placed his own chest against her back, lowering his head and sealing her right shoulder with his lips for a few seconds.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She released the t-shirt she was carefully folding, lifting her hands until she found his against her belly, squeezing his fingers.

"You'd be lost, obviously."

He laughed, the sound filling the room with warmth.

"Definitely."

Nick, who was in the kitchen eating some snack just seconds ago - taking a short break from packing his bag since he and Y/N were spending the night at Tara's -, appeared at the open bedroom door, leaning on the doorframe.

"You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?"

Matt tossed a balled-up sock at him, who dodged it with a chuckle.

"Shut up, Nick. At least I'm getting help."

Y/N joined in the laughter, her heart light. She loved these moments with Matt and his brothers, the easy interactions, and the affection that always filled the air.

Matt grinned after hearing her laughter, looking at her momentarily. As he reached for another shirt, he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Hey, babe?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting his.

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?" His tone was serious, yet there was a hint of something else; something softer, more intimate.

"Of course." She replied, nodding while letting go of the boxers she was organizing, feeling curious. "What do you need?"

"Your perfume." He said quickly, his voice low and earnest. "I mean... I want to spray it on my clothes."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her heart skipping a beat, looking at him directly.

"Wha- Why?"

Matt shrugged, making it seem like it was nothing.

"So that I can always feel like you're with me at all times. And..." He added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "So other girls know not to even approach me."

Y/N felt a rush of emotions that made her heart flutter. The request was so sweet and unexpected that it took her breath away. Her initial surprise quickly turned into a giddy, almost dizzying feeling of love and joy.

Her cheeks flushed a warm pink, and she felt a delightful shiver run down her spine. The idea that Matt wanted to carry her scent with him to Las Vegas as a way to feel close to her and to fend off any other girls made her heart swell with affection. It was such a tender, intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes about his feelings for her.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Just telling the truth."

Y/N retrieved her perfume from her dressing table, a strong and florar scent that Matt had always loved and made him lose his mind completely.

"Be careful not to end up with my perfume, Matt." Y/N asked softly, gripping the bottle in her hands for a few more seconds before handing it over after receiving an eye roll followed by a nod.

She couldn't help but smile, her lips curving into a broad, almost goofy grin that she couldn't suppress even if she wanted to.

As he started to spray it over his clothes, the room filled with the familiar fragrance, a tangible reminder of her presence. While observing him with her arms crossed and soft expression, Y/N felt a profound sense of security. Matt's request was a clear declaration of his commitment and love for her, and she felt even more comfortable with the thought of him going to another city without her by his side.

Suddenly, Chris poked his head into the room, raising an eyebrow at the sight, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell that seemed to hit him in the face.

"What are you doing, spraying yourself with flowers?"

Matt shot him a mock glare.

"Shut up, Chris. It's Y/N's perfume."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"Man, you're whipped."

Matt didn't mind the teasing. He was proud of his relationship with Y/N, and he didn't care who knew it.

He finished spraying the shirts, closing the small red bottle again and putting it above her dressing table. He looked at Y/N momentarily before pulling her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair, exhaling the same scent he just put on his clothes.

Y/N melted into his embrace, feeling the solid warmth of his body against hers. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting her head against his chest, and took a deep breath, inhaling the mixed scent of his cologne and her perfume. It was intoxicating, a heady blend that made her feel safe and loved.

"I can't believe you thought of this." She murmured against his chest, her voice muffled by his clothed. "It's so sweet."

Matt pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands.

"You mean the world to me, Y/N. I want to carry a part of you with me, always."

"I love you so much." She said, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with all the emotion she felt.

Matt's eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss her gently, his lips warm and tender against hers.

"I love you too, more than anything... You know, I'm going to miss you like crazy."

"You'll have fun." She reassured him, though she knew she'd miss him just as much. "And you'll have Chris and Justin to keep you company."

Matt sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching lightly.

"Yeah, I suppose."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and melodious.

"It'll be something new, I'm sure you'll adore it."

He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at her.

"Yeah, it will. And I'll be back before you know it."

[siriussslut]

are you gonna do a part 4 on virgin regulus….?

no pressure just curious bc he would just be totally ✨gone ✨(in a good way) if him and reader were together like that

warnings: loss of virginity, unprotected sex (pullout method…)

masterlist

you push regulus deeper into your bed, locking your legs around his hips. your tongue is deep inside his mouth, tasting every wet nook and cranny he has to offer.

you finally break apart to catch your breath. he looks beautiful beneath you, flushed and panting.

you lean down to press a kiss on the reddened tip of his nose. “you’re so cute.”

he scowls around a small grin, blushing. “stop!”

the two of you have been this insufferable since the day after he first ate you out, when he confessed how he felt for you. you’ve been a lovesick couple ever since (and he’s eaten you out many more times).

you lean down to kiss your boyfriend’s jaw. he turns his head upwards to give you more room. you trail up to his earlobe, before licking at the fleshy bit beneath it. he giggles until you bite down and he gasps, pupils dilating.

“regulus, i’ve been thinking…” you whisper above him. “maybe it’s time we go the full way.”

this snaps him out of his haze. “like… sex?”

“yeah.”

his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen, nervously darting around your face. “i- yeah. yeah, okay.”

you smile. “that didn’t sound very confident. you sure?”

he nods. “yeah. yes, i want this. i’m just… i’m scared.”

his eyes finally still, staring into yours.

“it’s okay,” you say, your voice soothing. you lean closer to him, lowering your tone to a playful whisper. “i’ll be gentle.”

he swats you away, laughing. he stands up, unbuckling his belt. his jeans fall to the floor, pooling around his ankles. he’s wearing his minecraft boxers again, the same pair he wore the first time you tasted his cock.

he steps out of his jeans and removes his boxers, walking closer to where you’re sitting on the bed, cock hard.

you slide your hands up his shirt, palms against his skin. you reach up to the top, tugging it above his head.

“i’ve never seen you fully naked before.” your eyes jump from around, trying to take him in all at once. he’s skinny, with little to no muscle definition. he has a dark happy trail leading down to his throbbing cock. moles dot his milky flesh. he looks delectable.

he steps over to you, tugging on your skirt. he pulls it down with your panties, revealing your dripping cunt, puffy and wanting.

you walk to the window, pushing it shut. “only you get to see me.”

you turn back to him and pull up your blouse. regulus’ breath catches in his throat. you lean against him, bra against his bare chest. “open it,” you whisper.

his hands reach behind you back, shakily fumbling with the clasp. finally, it gives, falling to the floor. regulus leans back to study your breasts.

after a minute of silent observing, you grin. “you can feel them.”

his hands cup around you, nipples pointing into his palm. he fondles them before leaning down, placing a kiss on one.

you push him down to the bed, pressing your tits against him. you slide down the length of his body, skin against skin.

you pull on his dick, tugging it past your lips. he groans, tossing his head back. you suck him off until you can feel the cum about to spill from him.

his voice is an octave to high and shaky when he says “wait! i- i thought we were…”

you smile, letting go of his shaft. you climb up his body, pressing a kiss to his open mouth. then you place your cunt right above his cock, sliding it in.

the two of you gasp together at the entry. you’ve done stuff with other people before, but never this. regulus’ cock is huge, spreading your wet hole wide.

you whimper above him. “oh. you’re so big.”

regulus bucks his hips upward. “d-does that feel good?” he asks nervously.

you nod, dumb. your brain is foggy, high from his cock. “mhm.”

regulus thrusts again, and you feel yourself drip onto his pubic hair. regulus leans up to kiss you. lips still pressed against yours, he flips you over.

he slides in and out of you, fucking you while never pulling away from your mouth.

you come faster than he ever has. shaking and arching your back, he kisses you through it, still thrusting.

you dig your fingernails into his back, practically screaming against his tongue.

once you’ve completely soaked the sheets you fall back to the bed, boneless.

he pulls away from your mouth, letting you catch your breath with his cock still buried inside of you.

“how- how was it? did you feel good?”

you nod again, managing nothing but another “mhm.” you run your fingers against the nail marks now deep in his skin. “so good. regulus, keep- keep going.”

you look at him up through your lashes. “come on me.”

regulus continues his thrusts, chest flattening your breasts, eyes pinned against yours. finally, his cock jerks inside of you.

he pulls out, and his length twitches before white liquid bubbles from the tip. hot come spills onto your body, onto your stomach, your hips, your breasts.

he comes an almost absurd amount, shaking as he finishes.

when it seems to be over, you collect as much as you can on your hand, pulling it into your mouth, sucking as you stare into his blown-out eyes.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

completely fine if you can’t do this but I’m curious if you could do something with platonic yan batfam finding out teen reader smokes. Not hard core drugs or anything, just cigarettes (still bad I know), and maybe even drinks alcohol.

in their own words it “makes it so they can stop thinking”

Again completely fine if you can’t!! Also love your work ♥️

The ask is based before the events of part 4

beta reader: @duck-you

WC: 4.4k

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics @cafekitsune

Age of reader: 16-17 (the age of reader in the main serie is your choice, I don't think I ever made the age clear but for this ask reader is almost 18)

Tw: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, underage drinking and reckless behaviour from intoxication, Joker, fighting under the influence, wrongful imprisonment, Black Mask and his uglyness

You first started smoking when you were at the end of middle school and started high school, your friends kept pressuring you into it since all the cool kids were smoking and you didn't want to lose them.

You did stop a few times but they kept gas lighting you into starting smoking once again and after you started to roam Gotham as Spider it became an habit that helped you do something whenever the night was dead or you were just bored.

You also made sure to not smoke before going back to the Manor since you knew Alfred would know and you didn't want to let him know and disappoint the older man, seeing him as a father figure instead of Bruce since he was the one who actually took time out of his day to pay attention to you whenever you told him in advance.

The drinking didn't start until you turned 17 and your friends managed to drag you to a party after a lot of begging and accusing you of not caring about them.

You still remember the night where you got drunk for the first time, the beat of the music making you unable to talk to anyone without yelling and how everyone kept pushing drinks in your hand and cheer whenever you drank it all.

The taste of whatever drink you just drank always made you make a disgusted face before smiling happily as you started to relax and have fun with your friends, even singing karaoke after someone pushed a microphone in your hands and told you to follow the words that were being displayed on a TV.

Honestly that night was one of the best you ever had because you weren't Spider, you weren't the forgotten child of Bruce Wayne and you weren't the straight A's student that people looked down upon because of how silent and antisocial you were. You were [Y/N], the one who beat 5 guys at arm wrestling, the friend who was dancing like crazy and how you just lost your virginity (the alcohol one, not the actual virginity).

You didn't really enjoy drinking, especially whenever you drank too much after a party and ended up with the worst hangover ever thanks to your powers, but it was a nice thing to do to de-stress after a long night or to just become free for a night with your friends.

One night you were still on patrol but had a long night because you had to stop many gang fights and even got shot on the leg, which you bandaged up but it was hurting and annoying you so you ended up drinking the entire bottle of vodka you had in your schoolbag, where you forgot to take out the bottle a friend put inside after you told them that you never drank it since you never had the opportunity to do so.

And you were a bit of a lightweight since you didn't start for too long and somehow you found yourself wandering around Gotham, drunk out of your mind and unaware of your surroundings. Yes people were taking videos of a drunk vigilante walking on the walls and street but didn't do much, especially when they saw a familiar clown approaching.

When Joker finally walked up to you with his usual smile, happy that he saw you since he could just use you after he noticed how Batman was attached to you, plus you looked incredibly drunk and you were stumbling around the empty street, still wearing your mask that was just rolled up enough that he could see your mouth, slightly open so he thought it would be easy to kidnap you by just using a crowbar.

Immediately, when you felt his hand touch your shoulder and his annoying laugh, you grabbed his hand and just slammed him into the ground with a judo flip, that you saw Damian do when you were watching him train alongside the others.

Your drunken mind didn't clock in that the person who touched you was the feared clown of Gotham, you just kept hitting his body with the crowbar that he had in hand after you took it off his hands after he tried to hit you with it when he had the chance to attack.

But you didn't let him, somehow your mind and body when under the influence were a better fighter than you actually thought, you weren't using your superstrenght most of the time and only if he actually posed as a threat when he tried to attack you once again.

During the fight your mask was taken by that clown, who probably got even angrier when he saw that you were just a kid and that looked like you were gonna fall asleep in any moment, which was why he even managed to hit you on the face. Unfortunately for him, his hit made you remember when Jason hit you and somehow awakened an anger and you just started to hit that man like there was no tomorrow.

Somehow, during the drunken fight between you and Joker that people were recording, you didn't notice three masked figures on a rooftop who were watching you fight that clown and were discussing when to butt in.

Dick was watching with glee as you hit the clown while also waiting for Oracle to tell him who Spider was once Joker took off your mask, amazed as he watched your fight.

He did feel anger whenever Joker managed to get a hit on you with his fists and had to be held back by Jason and Damian, since they both wanted to see you win and see you fight in real life instead of watching from the cameras, which didn't show all of the fights most of the time.

As he watched he did that you moved a bit weird, like you were under the influence and that made him panic because what if Joker actually tried to drug you? What if someone tried to kidnap you and he wasn't there to save you?!

Jason was also watching in glee when he saw you hit the Walmart clown with a crowbar, cheering whenever you hit him in the face with that crowbar. He would also yell out scores when you did that, not caring that people were filming him.

He did notice how sluggish you were when you moved and was also ready to jump down to help you, not wanting you to get badly hurt by that clown even though he knew that you could defend yourself.

Damian was watching and making small comments about your posture as you fought before noticing how many moves were incredibly similar to downright the same moves he did as he fought with random criminals, making his heart soar with respect and felt incredibly honoured that you were copying him. He knew that he was gonna show the footage to the others to show how much Spider was like him and how he's obviously the favourite since they're copying him.

He did found your face very familiar, like he met you once but he couldn't find any memory of you in his mind, making him frustrated and angry since he's supposed to be the heir of Wayne Enterprises, his memory shouldn't get worse so soon.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder and another grabbing the hand that was hitting the now dead Joker, you turned around and just kicked that person away with all your strength to a nearby dumpster and just prepared yourself for another fight.

You honestly couldn't really see who was close to you thanks to Joker punching you right in the face and making your eyesight a bit blurry that you honestly couldn't see who was approaching and just thought it was another guy or more trying to kidnap you, so you kept fighting by using your spider senses to find them.

It took Dick, a laughing Jason and an annoyed but amazed Damian to manage to stop you, leaving all of them with bruises and many injuries since you didn't hold your strength back. The indented dumpster after you kicked Damian when he tried to grab you and the hole in a wall after you missed punching Jason and got stuck in the wall was proof of it.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep after getting a small injection in your neck was Jason's laugh even though he sounded like someone kicked him in the chest and Damian's exasperated voice as he talked with Dick and how they shouldn't let you near anything alcoholic anymore.

You woke up the next day in your room, the headache from the hangover making you groan in pain, especially after feeling how sore your body was even though you couldn't remember anything from last night, before managing to get up without feeling like puking or falling, cursing yourself and making a mental note to never drink during patrol.

You slowly walked to the door, cursing your hangover since it felt like your door was farther away from you since you though you were in your usual room and not in another that looked exactly the same but you didn't really pay much attention to it since your head was killing you as you tried to think of anything.

You finally reached the door and opened it, immediately facing a surprised Bruce, making you confused and annoyed since you already felt like shit and seeing your father that never stepped up as a father to you made your headache worse.

You and the man stared at each other for a few seconds that felt like hours before you pushed him away and walked to where you thought the bathroom was, knowing that you needed to have a shower and probably puke your mind out.

When you finally walked out of the bathroom with a less painful headache after drinking some water from the sink and while you were showering, knowing it was safe since the Manor filtered the water, but the short-time happiness from the long shower was immediately ruined by Dick's loud voice as he talked about something you weren't paying attention to and him dragging you to the dining room where everyone was waiting for you, your headache coming back strong to even making you try and get away from his arms.

You groaned when he basically dropped you on the carpeted floor of the dining room, to which everyone's eyes were on you as you slowly got up and made your way to a random chair far away from everyone else, a bit weirded out since you actually never sat on a chair on the actual table. Hell, you probably never even stepped foot in the room in all the years you lived there.

You mumbled a thanks to Alfred when he set a bowl of soup in front of you and a few pills on a tissue next to your glass of water, to which you assumed it was for your headache and hangover.

You started to eat the soup without saying anything to anyone else at the table before looking up when you heard Bruce's voice saying your nome, ignoring how hesitant his voice was when he actually said your name, like it was the first time he ever actually pronounced your name out loud.

You stared at the older man who was supposed to be your father, hissing a little when the lights from the chandelier hits your eyes, too used to your poorly lit room and of the gloomy weather of Gotham that never lets any sun in so bright lights hurt your eyes.

"[Y/N], hun, I know you drank last night. And I am sure you know that drinking is bad for you, especially when you are underage. You could've hurt yourself and the people around you, which you did last night!" he said, his voice raising at the end before pointing at Dick, Jason and Damian, who you just noticed all had some bruises and looked uncomfortable while sitting on the chair.

Honestly, you didn't even feel bad. The only thing you felt bad about was not being able to remember anything about it. You hoped that someone took a video of it, god you hoped so hard.

As you thought of finding that video you suddenly noticed that Bruce was still talking, probably going on about the dangers of alcohol and what it could do to someone's liver after prolonged drinking, making you annoyed since he cares now? After years of ignoring your existence?

So you did what he did once when you were little, you just got up and left without a word to your room, not caring about anything he was saying. You didn't even know where you were going in the Mansion,thanks to how big it is and how you stuck to your room instead of exploring and ended up inside a small bedroom that looked like no one entered it for years thanks to the all the dust inside of it.

You opened the windows to let some air inside and found a few diaries as you snooped around before finding the holy grail of things you could find in anyone's room: an unopened bottle of rum in a hidden drawer that you might have broken while trying to open it because you were curious.

You were now loving whoever lived here and put the rum away in a pocket before walking out the room by the window so you could reach a bag you left on the rooftop that held a copy of your costume. Why did you had a bag there on the first place?

That was simple. You once forgot it while you were drinking on the rooftop when you had a horrible day and just forgot it there when you stumbled in your room by walking on the walls. And yes, the conversation you had with Alfred to ask him about having some money to buy all the stuff you needed to re-make the suit and re-create the voice modulator was very uncomfortable, especially when you knew you couldn't afford all of the stuff you needed even though you had a job.

And yes, you didn't have an allowance because Bruce never thought of giving you money and you had to take a job to just survive and not always ask for Alfred for money when you needed something for school or for dance practice.

As you reached the bad tied to an unused chimney, a small frown formed on your face when you saw the old design of your vigilante suit but still changed before putting the web shooters on your wrists, your bag already on your shoulders and the rum safely stashed in it and wrapped around your clothes to make sure it won't accidentally break while you were swinging around Gotham.

Once you got on a random rooftop of an abandoned building, which you made sure wasn't a rogue or a gang hideout before settling on it so you could finally drink the bottle you stole. You were close to one of the mafia's territory in Crime Alley but you didn't care which one it was, you only wanted to drink.

As you finally started to drink, your tongue tasting a hint of nutmeg and weirdly cinnamon with each sip you took, you slowly started to relax as the alcohol did its job, each sip making your head feel less heavy, like it was getting pumped full of helium and slowly making your forget about the pain your body was in.

God, you never wanted to stop, just four sips in and you were already past the tipsy part and you felt so free that anything you saw in the starless, polluted night of Gotham made you laugh like crazy. You finally felt like you belonged when you drank and that all the hatred, anger and the deep resentment you felt towards the Bats was calm, like a warm heavy blanket was put on those emotions.

As the night progressed, the bottle now half empty and your mind completely fuzzy, you started to hear noises and grunts of pain from one of the alleys near your spot, making you curious to see who it was and especially what was happening that would ruin your drinking night.

You slowly got up, your limbs feeling like jelly as you moved to walk on the side of the building, slipping a little as you stumbled around. After a bit you finally managed to get to the right alley when you realised you were on the wrong side of the building, and as you walked over you luckily avoided a frantic Nightwing grappling to a building.

You watched in silence when you finally got to the right alley and saw Black Mask, one of the criminals you knew his own goons feared because he could kill them if they did anything wrong in his eyes. You couldn't count the times you saw bodies in alleys when you were patrolling, their bodies covered in bruises and most of the time they were beat up beyond recognition that always made you sick.

But, unfortunately for you, your drunken mind decided to say something since you found his mask boring and weird. Like, compared to Jason's mask, his just looked boring and not really original. And you knew he was dangerous but noo, let's anger the mafia boss who kills with no mercy.

"He-Hey! You look ri"- you took a few sips of the rum - "uhh, oh yea! Ridiculous! Why that? No red, thought of being compared to Red Skull?" you started before your drunken mind just decided to go on a whole rant about his choices of brand and what he does with his goons.

As you were ranting about his ugliness and name choice, your spider senses made you dodge an incoming bullet shot at you but unfortunately Black Mask managed to hit your sacred bottle that still had most of its contents in it and you just watched with tears in your eyes as the alcohol ran out of your bottle to the ground.

The anger that surged in you after your drunken mind realised that he wasted your precious rum made you so angry that you didn't care who Black Mask is and threw the broken glass bottle at him and used his small distraction to web his chest and launch yourself at him, using all your strenght to punch his ugly masked face.

Using the moment and how distracted the man was, thanks to your punch, you kept hitting the man with all your strenght. Sadly, this moment of you overpowering the insult for eyes as a man as the man manages to catch one of your punches that was aiming for his stomach and pulled you forward to knee you on the chest, making you gasp for air and cough and almost made you puke but you anaged to keep it down.

Sadly, the bastard with no imagination for names started to hit you on the back of the head, making your vision blurred for a few seconds before your vision went back to normal thanks to your fast healing. You managed to avoid another one of his hits and quickly jumped on the wall and webbed him on the chest, pulling him forward and jumping on him, kicking him on the jaw.

You stared at the sad excuse of a original rogue as it stayed on the ground and slowly raised your hands like you won before grabbing the broken bottle of rum and walked on a wall, waiting as you watched the thing who you refused to acknowledge as a man get up and wobble around while the two goons he was hitting before already ran away.

Once it got up, obviously confused when you watched him look around and you waited until he got closer and hit him on the head with the bottle as a revenge for the wasted precious alcohol and then you quickly kicked him on the back to keep him down since you knew he was good at hand and hand combat and you knew that you couldn't win if he was lucid so you were lucky that you gave him a concussion with a lucky move.

You kept hitting the man-thing with the bottle with no care in the world, the blood splattering on the walls and the dumpster near you two, your smile the only thing he could see as you just kept hitting him, the bottle getting thrown away when it was completely broken from hitting his mask so you went back to using your hands, smashing his mask onto his scarred face, the alcohol in your body making you ignore how the shards of the mask were also getting embedded in your hands as you kept punching his face.

You stopped when your spider senses alerted you of danger and got ready to fight whoever it was that before getting hit with something and falling asleep, the last thing you managed to say before falling asleep was "fuck yall".

You woke up once again with weird cuffs on your wrists, but fortunately you weren't chained to the bed. You slowly got up from the bed and noiced two things: your hands were bandaged, making you confused as to what happened last night after you drank and both windows in the room had bars on it.

You managed to get up from the bed and walked to the door, your vision being a bit blurred as you looked around the room. You first walked to the window to see the bars and noticed how the bars were so close together and had such a small space between that even your finger couldn't pass through.

You then walked to the door and went to grab the doorknob but almost fell to the ground as you noticed too late that the doorknob was missing from the door. You quickly recovered and looked angrily at the door, punching it with all your strenght before realising that the cuffs were blocking your super-strenght when you felt an immense pain in your hand after you punched it and the door didn't fall down like you planned to.

You slowly retracted your hand from the door and started to pound the door with the other hand, yelling for Bruce and whoever lived in the fucking Manor, too angry and scared to care about the pain as your hand kept touching the door.

As you pounded on the door, you hoped that Alfred would come to save you from this room and explain why the hell you were stuck in a room with no way out, feeling trapped as minutes went by and no one came to explain what was happening and why you were trapped in that room.

You let out a huge sigh of relief when you heard footsteps coming your way and finally stopped pounding on the door, only now noticing the prints of blood on the door from your hand that was now bleeding profusely, making you almost cry as even slightly moving a finger brought you immense pain.

You looked up when you heard the door open and stared at Bruce and Alfred, who was holding a first aid kit, and moved to the side to let them enter, not wanting to fight until you knew why you were here.

You sat on a chair, who you now noticed was plastic, and let Alfred change the bandages on your hands while you stared at Bruce, waiting for an explanation before getting frustrated when he didn't say anything and just stared at you.

"What happened to me? Why are my hands bandaged?" you asked, staring directly at Bruce to hear his explanation, not remembering anything after you drank.

The man who you were told to call father just stared at you with a grim expression on his face "two days ago, after you snuck ou-" to which you interrupted him "I didn't sneak out, using those words would mean that you cared that I actually lived here and what these last 17 years showed me was that you don't care. Don't act like you do now".

You watched as the man acted like it didn't affect him but you knew that it did. You knew Bruce Wayne and he loves kids, you saw how he acted with Damian when he got hurt during patrol and how Jason once came home bleeding. You saw the man who you thought was heartless and didn't care about anyone cradle Jason's body as he carried him to the batcave, his face showing so many emotions that you never saw before.

You stayed silent as you watched him, giving an ok to Alfred when he asked if the bandages were too tight, still waiting for him to explain before sighing loudly when he just stared back at you.

"I went out to drink so what? Did I fight a gang member and somehow got so hurt that my hands need help healing?" you joked, wiggling your fingers to show your bandaged hands like it was something to be proud of.

To which Bruce seemed to get extremely mad about it "no, you decided to fight Black Mask after insulting him and ended up killing him. Damian and Cass had to sedate you as they thought you were a danger to yourself and to the civilians.".

After that you just stared at him before looking down at your own hands and looked at your knuckles who were staining your bandages since they were still bleeding. "So what? I didn't hurt someone innocent so why am I in a room with bars and no way out?" you asked angrily, not caring that you killed someone since you never viewed Black Mask as a person after everything you've seen him and his men do.

The man stared back at you "and this is exactly why you won't be let out until I know that you aren't a danger to the public" he said coldly and walked out with Alfred while you just stood there in shock.

You quickly ran to the door and started banging on it "NO NO NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE! I AM AN ADULT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME" you yelled as you banged to it, ignoring how their footsteps started to sound so far away while you cried and yelled in the room.

[devildom-moss]

I really love your series on Mc giving everyone a kiss on the cheek. Can I ask for the reverse? Where they give a kiss on the cheek or something similar (a gift, perhaps?) for their Mc?

Okay, so this ask is going to take me a while, so I'm going to split it up. I hope you don't mind. I didn't quite go with the same PDA premise for this one - hope that's okay. So, what I did was I thought about who would be more likely to give a kiss on the cheek, a gift, or both. So part 1 of this request will be both. I hope you like it if you see this (sorry it took me so long to get to this, by the way).

Signs of Affection (kiss + gift)

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Leviathan x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,500

Lucifer

It was starting to get late when your D.D.D. buzzed. Lucifer was on an extended business trip with Diavolo and had taken to sending you secret good-night texts before he went to bed. Apparently, he didn’t think he could go five days without contacting you. He had even called on the third day just to hear your voice. With an affectionate smile, you checked your D.D.D. However, this message wasn’t what you were expecting.

Lucifer: Please go to my office.

You were confused – solely because you expected his office to be empty. Lucifer would be gone until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he had something valuable teleported there?  Whatever it was, if Lucifer was willing to say “please,” you figured it was important. Your heart jumped from your chest when you walked into the room and saw Lucifer sitting back in a chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“There you are.” He looked at you seductively, waiting for you to get closer so he could pounce. “Come in.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” You made no attempt to hide your smile. It was nice to see him earlier than expected, but it made you wonder. “So, did things go really well or was it a disaster – for you to be back early, that is?”

“Let’s say it went well.” Lucifer smirked, unwilling to admit that he had all but begged Diavolo to allow him to return home early. If Diavolo hadn’t felt bad for Lucifer being ogled at throughout the trip – not to mention being hit on during three separate occasions by different nobles and a rather forward marriage proposal, he might have insisted that Lucifer stayed the extra half a day. Diavolo had noticed that Lucifer was uncomfortable the second he was away from polite company, and he had only seen Lucifer genuinely smile when he was on his phone and on the first morning when they were out window shopping before their meeting. So, Lucifer took an earlier train back, leaving Barbatos and Diavolo alone for one more night of mingling. By the time he got back, Lucifer was exhausted – although not so exhausted that he couldn’t carve out some time for his beloved human. “Sit, have a drink with me.”

You took the seat next to him and he handed you a chilled glass of Demonus he had already poured in anticipation of your arrival. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Not in the slightest – although it might have gone better if you were with me.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Nothing important. Now,” Lucifer started, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to you, “did you miss me?”

“It wasn’t even five days, Lucifer.” You rolled your eyes. “I won’t die of loneliness.”

“Oh? I thought I was supposed to be the cruel one.” Lucifer leaned down and grabbed the leg of your chair, pulling you closer – and, quite ungracefully, causing a bump in the rug. You were left between his legs, and Lucifer used his newly obtained proximity to run his hand up your thigh. “I missed you terribly. I was dying of loneliness.”

“How many drinks did you have before I arrived?” you sighed.

“This is the first one, I’m afraid.” Lucifer swirled the Demonus in his glass before setting it down. Only then did you notice the small box sitting behind the bottle on the table. His eyes followed yours, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Curious?”

“Souvenir from your trip?”

“Almost.” Lucifer scooped up the box before returning his gaze to you. He stared, expectant and almost sad. “Just tell me you missed me – even if you’re lying.”

“I waited up for your texts every night. Of course I missed you.” You caressed his cheek, and teased, “you soft, baby boy.”

“Confession accepted. Close your eyes,” Lucifer instructed. You agreed, but not without rolling them once more. You heard him open the box and felt him take your hand before slipping something onto your wrist. Still, you kept your eyes shut – even as he turned your hand over and kissed your wrist – until he gave you the signal. He turned your hand back around, continuing to hold it, and said, “okay. You can open them.”

It was a bracelet with round, black crystal beads. When the light hit them at the right angle, you could see flashes of red. It kind of reminded you of “. . . your eyes.”

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“It reminds me of your eyes,” you admitted, looking between the stones and his eyes. “They’re both beautiful.”

Lucifer’s cheeks grew pink, and he cleared his throat before mentioning, “it’s made of Hell-Sheen Obsidian. It’s a rare stone that can only be harvested from the lava that forms within a volcano near the location of our business trip. The volcano has been dormant for centuries, and genuine pieces are hard to come by. They offer the wearer strong protection. I want you to wear it when I’m not around to watch over you.”

It hadn’t escaped you that Lucifer had yet to release your hand, so you brought his knuckles to your lips. The soft kiss only made Lucifer’s blush deepen. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Thank you, my love.” Lucifer leaned in and kissed your cheek affectionately. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, the reds of his irises glimmering in the dim light. “What do you say we take advantage of my early return, and you spend the rest of the night with me?”

Leviathan

There was an off-beat knock at your door – like someone had hesitated to commit to the knock. The awkward noise was followed by an equally uncomfortable, “Uhm, MC? Are you there?”

“Levi?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. It was already well past dinner, and you had laid down with your D.D.D., so you weren’t expecting someone to interrupt your mindless, pre-sleep scrolling. “Gimme a sec.”

You got out of bed to unlock the door and found Levi standing anxiously in the hallway, clutching something close to his chest. Hoping to ease some of his tension, you invited him into your room. He followed with the nervous energy of someone who was doing something he probably shouldn’t.

With the door shut, you questioned him, “Are you okay?”

“I – yeah. Here.” Levi thrust the item he was holding in your direction. It was a box, wrapped in Azuki-tan paper – no doubt something that Levi had wrapped himself.

“What’s this for?” You took the package from his hands, politely ignoring the small yelp he made when your fingers grazed his.

“For, um – to thank you, you know, for helping me cram before the exam the other day.” Levi’s cheeks began to flush, but he continued, rushing his words as he tried to explain. “You didn’t have to do that, but because of you, I passed, and I don’t have to take extra classes over the weekend, which means I can watch Chocolate Heartbreak stream their mini concert live tomorrow. And I know I thanked you at the time, but I wanted to thank you again because I’m really happy that you decided to help a gross otaku like me – even though you probably didn’t have any fun because who has fun studying with a shut in? But anyway, thank you.”

“Oh, Levi, baby, breathe.” He hadn’t taken a single breath during that last part. You put your hand on his head and rubbed him gently, hoping to calm him down. While he did take a few slow, steady breaths, his heart only raced, and his cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink. “Thank you for the present, really, but I had a good time studying with you. I was happy to help. And you aren’t gross, either.”

Levi covered his face with his hands and murmured, “thank you.”

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Can I open it now?”

Instead of words, Levi simply nodded. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a charm with chibi drawings of the members of Chocolate Heartbreak, a matching sticker, and a brown tin with a red broken heart and each of the members in cute poses around the sides of the tin. Inside was an assortment of themed candies and cookies. Levi peeked through his fingers to watch your reaction. When you smiled, he found the courage to speak again.

“Chocolate Heartbreak did a collab with Madam Devian’s and a local artist to put out a themed snack tin to promote their mini concert. I ordered a few, but I made sure to buy one specifically for you.” Levi stared at your hands, holding the tin. “Well, uhm, I was thinking maybe we could eat them together while we watch the concert live tomorrow – if you want to!”

“Of course! I’d love to.” You smiled at him.

Levi looked up, his mouth agape as if he wasn’t expecting you to accept so enthusiastically. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak, before he managed to mumble something out. “. . . you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked, getting slightly closer. Levi rubbed his arm nervously.

“I love you!” he blurted out. Levi quickly leaned in to kiss your cheek before attempting to flee. However, you caught his arm before he could make his escape, and pulled him in, kissing his lips sweetly – and, for the sake of his heart, briefly.

“I love you, too. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow to watch the concert. Goodnight, Levi.” You grinned and let him go, but not without teasingly adding, “unless you want to spend the night, that is.”

“N-not at this time! Thank you. Good night!” Levi was a ball of giddiness and nerves as he slithered out of your grasp and ran away down the hall. How in the Devildom was he going to get to sleep now?

Diavolo

It was hard to know exactly what to expect when Diavolo called you to the castle – with instructions to head directly to his room once you arrived. Usually, he would joke around or send some kind of flirty sticker to indicate that this was a purely social call. He had just returned from a business trip, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had heard something troubling on his trip – or maybe someone had spread some unsavory rumors that reached him upon his return. Everyone had been well behaved enough, though. Still, if Diavolo was in a bad mood, you weren’t particularly thrilled to have to deal with it, but you had already agreed to meet with him. Besides, Diavolo wasn’t usually scary, and no matter how bad his mood was, he had never been mean to you before – indifferent, perhaps, but not actively cruel.

Either way, you readied yourself for needing to verbally defend the brothers or yourself as you tapped at his door. To your relief, the “enter” from the other side of the door didn’t sound too upset.

Diavolo had been sitting on his sofa, staring at a black box on his coffee table. He immediately perked up, standing to his feet, when he realized the knock had come from you. A smile grew on his face as he exclaimed, “You’re early.”

“I was in town – not too far from the castle. Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all,” Diavolo laughed. “I’d much prefer to see you than anyone else – just don’t tell Barbatos.”

Diavolo brought his finger to his lips. You laughed, letting the tension in your body go. Based on his reception of you, it was clear that you hadn’t been called for something too grave. “So, I take it I’m not in trouble today?”

Once again, Diavolo laughed. He looked down, and when his eyes returned to you, they had a mischievous glint – something more boyishly charming than befitting royalty. In a smooth, tempting tone, he teased, “Why, did you do something bad, MC? Should I punish you?

“Only if I get to punish you the next time that you’re bad,” you teased back with a smirk. Diavolo’s eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks burn. Pleased that you had successfully flustered the prince, you answered him honestly, “I’m kidding. I didn’t do anything bad, but your message seemed so serious. I was racking my brain trying to figure out if I had done something wrong while you were away.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I was exhausted when I sent that message,” Diavolo admitted, ashamed that he had made you worry. “The only reason I have any energy at all is because I was eager to see you. I’ll be sure to add more hearts to my messages the next time I want to see you.”

“Please don’t. I might mistake your texts for Asmo’s,” you joked. “I’ll just try not to assume your mood based on one text next time. Anyway, why did you call me over if you’re so exhausted?”

Diavolo motioned towards the box on the table, “For this.”

“Hm?” You looked between him and the box. “The box you were trying to burn holes into with your eyes when I walked in? What? Is someone trying to court you again?”

“Goodness no. I’ve been pleasantly lacking in suitors recently. There is this one suitor, though – nearly as powerful as they are cute.”

“Solomon’s trying to seduce you now? I know he wants a pact with you but to resort to going about it by getting you in bed – how devious.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you feigned disappointment.

“Not the teacher,” Diavolo chuckled. He grabbed the box and presented it to you. “I’m talking about his favorite ‘adorable apprentice.’ I’ve gotten a present for them.”

You wanted to continue your game, feigning surprise, but your heart had melted far too much for you to keep up the act. With heart-wrenching sincerity, you responded, “thank you. Can I?”

“Of course. Please, go ahead.” Diavolo watched on as you lifted the box lid to reveal a lovely silk tie with one of your favorite flowers printed on it. Even the tie color and the print color were ones you preferred. Mephisto would have nothing on your tie game now – not that he ever did. “I missed you while I was away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. When we had the opportunity to tour the city, I took that time searching for a token of my affection.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Diavolo. I feel like you’re going to spoil me.”

“Nonsense! A treasure like you cannot be spoiled.” Diavolo pulled you in close, leaned in until his breath was tickling your ear, and whispered, “You know, you don’t simply have to wear this tie. Perhaps we can come up with a more creative use for it?”

Diavolo kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to savor the warmth of your skin.

Barbatos

You had been so exhausted as of late, and the combination of late nights and the day-to-day stress that the brothers et al. caused you had taken its toll. All you wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet for yourself. So, you snuck off to school early and hid out in the RAD council room. It was far too early for anyone to be in there. In fact, the only people you saw on campus were Serun, and a few studious demons on their way to the library – one of which was definitely from one of your classes – perhaps Seductive Speechcraft – because they offered you a familiar wave as you passed in the hall. In the comfortable silence, you picked a seat and tucked yourself into a dim-lit corner.

With one of your textbooks laid out in front of you, you had fully intended to spend the next hour or so reading and studying without any interruption. However, your sleep deprivation and the heaviness of your eyelids had their own demands.

By the time Barbatos wandered into the student council, you had been asleep for well over a half an hour. He was pleased that you weren’t awake to see him jump slightly at the discovery of your body, slumped over the table. No one was supposed to be in there – and certainly not that early. All the lights weren’t even on yet.

Barbatos quickly recognized that you had fallen asleep – in Belphegor’s chair, no less. Although it was a suitable place for you to nap, Barbatos felt a tinge of jealousy, almost wishing he spent less time standing at Diavolo’s side and had his own designated seat that you could have fallen asleep in. He approached you cautiously, hoping to delay waking you up. No one – save for Barbatos himself and your unreliable narrator – would know whether he was able to snap a picture of your sleeping face before the affection swelling in his chest overcame him. Barbatos leaned down to kiss your cheek: the one that wasn’t adorably squished against your arm.

Your brows furrowed as the sensation pulled you out of sleep’s grasp. You groaned before opening your eyes. Barbatos had placed a homemade pastry in a bag, tied up with some spare mint-colored ribbon, in front of you before kissing you. So, as your eyes adjusted, the pastry was the first thing you saw, but a soft chuckle was the first thing you heard.

“Good morning, MC.”

“Barbatos? Did you just kiss me or was that a dream?” Your words were breathy as you tried to wake yourself up from an accidental nap. You straightened your spine and rolled your shoulders back.

“Shall I kiss you now, and you can judge for yourself?”

You scoffed. “You definitely kissed me, and now you’re trying to get a second one, aren’t you?”

“Perceptive as ever,” Barbatos mused. However, your tired face was harder to read than usual, and Barbatos became cautiously somber. “My apologies. In truth, you looked so cute that I found myself unable to resist, so I kissed your cheek to wake you up. Was I too presumptuous?”

If it had been some random demon you didn’t adore, perhaps it would have been an issue, but you figured this didn’t particularly bother you. You had done far worse – or, in this case, better – with Barbatos. Still, you didn’t get the opportunity to catch Barbatos in the wrong, and you wanted to mess with him. With feigned hurt, you replied, “You really are a demon – kissing someone in their sleep like that.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” The words fell out of his mouth quickly, and he searched for an appropriate response to remedy his offense. “I truly believed it would be okay, but I was mistaken. Please, pardon me for taking advantage. It won’t happen again.”

“Hm, well, it was a bit creepy,” you smirked, “but I suppose I could forgive you if you’ll let me have this pastry.”

Barbatos slapped his hand to his face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Were you teasing me just now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you managed between a stifled laugh; the sleep had been completely shaken from you as you smiled and added, “You just seemed so flustered. I like that side of you.”

“I have half a mind to lock you up where those brothers can no longer be a negative influence on you,” he mumbled.

“Unfortunately, I arrived in the Devildom like this,” you corrected him.

“Then perhaps I should lock you up simply because I want to keep you for myself,” Barbatos admitted, absentmindedly – still recovering from your antics. He sighed and quickly redirected the conversation. “Anyway, the pastry is yours.”

“Oh, I was joking. You don’t really have to give me your food.”

“I brought it for you.” Barbatos pet your head before slipping his cool, gloved hand down your cheek and under your chin. “I intended to make you smile by bringing you a treat. I didn’t realize it would be as easy as allowing you to tease me.”

“Aww,” your grin widened. “That’s actually really sweet. Thank you!”

“As long as you’re happy.” Barbatos smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. “Now, I have some paperwork to attend to on behalf of the Young Master. You’re welcome to stick around until your first class begins. You can even go back to sleep, and I’ll wake you up if you’d like.”

“I’m alert now, thanks to you. But could you do something else for me?”

“Name it.”

“Could you kiss me again?”

Barbatos chuckled and bent down until he was close enough for his breath to graze your lips. He held your gaze seductively, but instead of kissing your lips as you had hoped, he moved to the side and kissed the cheek that he had been unable to kiss before. His lips lingered.

“Better?” he whispered in your ear. “You really should ensure that you’re sleeping properly. How else can I keep you up all night without worrying about you?”

Simeon

If it had been anyone other than an angel (or, former angel) – well, maybe not even Raphael and Michael – that had asked you to meet them at the edge of a forest, you would – and should – have assumed that you were going to be murdered and promptly disposed of. However, since it was Simeon who asked, you trusted him to not kill you. (Besides, Simeon could certainly think of somewhere more creative and romantic than a forest, right?)

Still, you might as well check. When you arrived and saw Simeon waiting for you, carrying a crossbody bag, you asked, “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Heavens no,” Simeon laughed, offering you his arm. “Have you started watching those true crime shows like Solomon and Raphael?”

You took Simeon’s arm and followed him into the forest. “Those two started watching true crime? Together?”

“Yes. I can’t say I don’t understand the grisly appeal, and I’m happy that they’re able to bond over something that doesn’t involve food, but it’s a bit much sometimes.”

“To be fair, Solomon’s cooking and true crime are equally gruesome. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s committed accidental murders with his food.”

“I would laugh if I didn’t agree with you,” Simeon admitted.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry.” You brought your free hand up to your forehead with a thunk. “This was supposed to be a date, and we started it by talking about the potential of Solomon committing manslaughter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Simeon chuckled and put his hand over your arm. He squeezed you gently, reassuringly. “We are on a date in the Devildom. It’s almost suitable, don’t you think?”

“I guess so, but you never told me why you wanted to meet out here. Did you just want a change of scenery?”

“Sort of. There’s a field of flowers nearby. According to a book I borrowed from Barbatos, these particular flowers are at their peak around this time of year, but most people don’t attempt to find the field because the path is apparently cursed.” You looked at Simeon, incredulous and uncertain about whether you wanted an explanation or not. Simeon laughed sweetly in the face of your concern, which eased some of that worry. “A legend claims that the field of flowers was planted by a demon as an act of love for someone they held very dear. Unfortunately, their loved one brought a lover there – only for that lover to dump them the following day. The former lover returned to the field with a new partner soon after.”

“That’s cruel,” you interjected.

“I know. To make it worse, the loved one who had been dumped was so heartbroken that they fell ill and died. The demon who planted the field was enraged by the betrayal of their loved one and burned the field down. However, upon seeing the destroyed field, the demon regretted their actions. It was as if they had burned down the memory of their deceased loved one. They had destroyed something beautiful. The deceased one was buried in the field. For years, the demon tended to the scorched earth until it was healthy enough to replant. They returned to care for the plants daily until they sprouted. To commemorate their loved one and honor the beauty of the field, the demon put a curse on the land so that only those with true love in their hearts could find it. If your love is true, the path will trace the same steps that the demon took each day to tend to the field. If not, the path will bend and twist, and you may never find your way out of the forest.”

“That’s kind of scary,” you admitted. You weren’t particularly worried, but the legend – if true – put you on edge.

“Precisely. After a few people went missing, many demons stopped coming altogether. The rumors changed over time until they overwrote the narrative of the original story. Most demons believe that the forest itself is haunted. They doubted their love.” Simeon looked at you with a soft smile. “I have no such doubts. See?”

Simeon pointed ahead on the path, and you turned to see patches of a flower field begin to sprout up through gaps between the trees. It wasn’t long before a clearing came into view. The moonlight made the blossoms appear to glow. Small white flowers shimmered like stars while blue and purple ones reflected the night sky’s subtle light. It was beautiful.

Just off the path, there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. You glanced back at Simeon. “Did you –?”

“I had no doubts that I loved you, so I came here and set this up ahead of time.” His arm slipped from yours so he could caress your face. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

“Thank you so, so much. I’m happy you wanted me to see this. I won’t come here with anyone but you.” You gave Simeon the soft smile he had been craving.

Knowing you were all alone, Simeon took the chance to kiss your cheek. Then, he kissed the other side, lingering longer than the first time. Then, he brought his lips to your forehead, keeping them pressed there as if he was afraid to let you go.

“Uhm, Simeon?” you interrupted his kiss.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away! And I forgot –” Simeon pulled away, flustered, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a box containing a pair of ceramic teacups with the same flowers in the field painted around the edges of the cup and saucer. “I got you a present too! I got them custom made for us. I thought it would be nice that even when the field goes dormant, you’ll still have a reminder.”

Your heart melted and all you could do was carefully wrap your arms around Simeon and bury your smile against his skin. If the legend was indeed true, Simeon understood what it felt like to create something so beautiful and lovely that only a select few deserved to see it.

(kiss version - Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Solomon)

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: I cannot explain what happened for these to turn out like this, but yeah. I hope you enjoy. Also, I still have so many requests from Halloween left and I feel like I should stop apologizing for taking months to get to them at this point. Dear lord. So sorry I forgot to add a read more tag the first time I posted this. I am out of it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

fairy porn crisis

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."

"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.

"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."

Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."

"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."

Eddie felt his face heat up.

"He's not my favorite."

"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."

Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.

He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.

He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.

He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.

Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.

His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.

It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.

And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.

Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.

Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.

"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.

Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"

"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."

In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'

"Just needed a change of scenery?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.

It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.

And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.

So.

"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."

"And were they?"

Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.

"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."

Steve visibly gulped.

"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.

And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.

"I'd be interested in riding you."

Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.

Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.

"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"

Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.

"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."

"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."

Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.

Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"

Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.

God, he was gonna be fun.

"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"

"Um, I've never-" Steve started.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sugar?"

"I really like you."

Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.

"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."

"I know."

[show-your-fangs]

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room. 

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

[hurts2think]

Hi, again, you were the first person I asked for a fanfic from and you'll be the second and then I'll ask about the same character again (I don't know if my first request was sent).

Bridget(specifically the Queen of Hearts) x fem!Reader, where the reader is a bit like Alice Kingleigh(except without being underage, of course) and is located at the time of the croquet game, and the Cheshire Cat starts to making fun of the Queen of Hearts and the reader tries to stop it but ends up making everything worse in a romantic way

🌹The Queen of Hearts x Reader🌹

Reader pronouns: she/her

Pairing: The Queen of Hearts x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Plot: Reader takes the role of Alice (as an adult of course) and is stuck in Wonderland. She finds her way off to meet the Queen in hopes for help but she only manages to anger the Queen. Fortunately for her, the Queen is fond of pretty women.

Extra: Hello! I just wanted to say I did receive your last request and it is currently in the works. But this idea just struck me with inspiration! I will get to your other one too :) thank you for the request.

It was dark and overwhelming. You sat on a rock and looked into your hands. How could you ever find your way home now? It felt like you'd been stuck in this place for ages. All alone and bothered by everything you touch. All alone yet nothing would leave you alone. So now you had no choice but to sit.

When you were a child, you parents always told you that if you were lost to stay in one place. Someone would surely find you. But how would anyone even think to look for you here? You weren't a child anymore. No one was looking for you like you were one.

"Is something wrong?"

A cheeky voice from behind you speaks up. You turn around and see a pink and purple cat with an unnatural grin. You've run into him before and you're concluded the only thing he's up to is mischief.

"Of course something's wrong. I've been stuck here for so long and I can't find my way." You let out a heavy sigh, looking back at the ground and sulking.

The cat purred and stretched across the branch he was sat on, "Why obviously. It's because you have no way... The only way here is the Queen's way." He says, the grin never leaving his face.

Your head perks up and you look back at the Cheshire Cat, "The Queen? I haven't met any Queen." You say, raising a brow.

Somehow the cat's grin managed to grow larger, "Oh? You haven't? But you simply must! She'd be just mad about you. She loves girls with pretty faces."

You stand up from the rock and face the cat, "How do I find her?" You ask. The Queen surely would know how to get out of here! She could definitely help you!

The cat stands on his two hind legs, "Well... Some people go that way," he mimicked walking to the right, "and some people go this way," he mimicked walking to the left, "But me, personally, I prefer this way." He says, putting his paw on one of the branches and pulling it.

The tree suddenly revealed a door and it opened. Your eyes widened in surprise. Compared to the dark and scary forest you were in now, through the door were hedges of green mazes and beautiful blue skies, "Oh, thank you Cheshire." You say, rushing in through the door and down the maze.

The maze had many paths and turns, all very sharp and abrupt. But it didn't take you long before you heard something. More like, someones.

"No, Two! You have to paint under the petals too or she'll see we painted them!" A voice yelled from around the corner.

You peak your head around the corner of the hedge and see three gardeners dressed in white and black attire. They were all holding paint brushes that dripped with red paint and painted white roses on the bushes.

You grow curious and slowly approach, "Excuse me. Why are you painting the roses?"

The three gardeners turn to you in sync,

"Oh well, because we accidentally planted the white ones and the Queen only likes the red ones. And with a mistake like this, it could be off with our heads!" One of them that had a '3' sewed into his top said, mimicking his head being chopped off with the red covered paint brush.

"Oh dear..." You say, growing concerned over the statement, "Then perhaps I should help you?" You offer, taking an extra paint brush from one of the paint buckets.

But as you pick up a brush you suddenly hear trumpets. The three gardeners begin to panic, snatching the brush out of your hand and hiding the evidence of the painting ever happening.

Then one of the gardeners grab you by the wrist and pull you to the side, gesturing you to follow and bow down.

You do just that, though confused as to what was happening, you still bowed, tilting you head down.

Numerous guards march their way into the garden, standing aside and making way.

Then one announced,

"Her Royal Highness, her grace, her excellency, The empress of Wonderland, The Queen of Hearts."

The Queen walked through. She was beyond beautiful. She had pin straight hair that was red as blood. Her crown was filled with hundreds of diamonds and her dress was more regal than you've ever seen, even in Auradon. Though she wasn't particularly tall, her presence towered over anyone around.

Even her stone cold expression made your chest feel heavy.

"Your majesty," All of the bowed guards and the gardeners said in unison as she walked through.

None of them dared to look at her but you couldn't seem to keep your eyes off of her, even with your head bowed down.

The Queen looked down on everyone around, walking ahead of the guards. Every step she took demanded respect and showed her royal status.

But she suddenly stopped by the rose bush. She silently touched the tip of her index finger to the painted rose, leaving a spot of paint on her finger.

"Who has been painting my roses?" She asks, her voice having the weight of a hundred daggers in your back.

The three gardners stood up, clearly petrified by the question, "Y.. you're majesty, I must say, it was two's idea!" The man labeled as '3' suddenly accused.

"Me? Of course it wasn't! It was Ace!" Two accused the man with an 'A' labeled on his top.

"Silence!" The Queen demanded, her eyes darkening as she approached the four of you. You stayed down, your heart beating faster in fear.

"Please, your majesty, we're very sorry, it will never happen again." Three pleads, dropping to his knees.

"I assigned you such a simple job and you could not even do it correctly? You make a mockery of me. Do you know what I am to do about that?" She asks, her British accent regal and quite attractive. The question was rhetorical. The three men clearly knew what happened next.

But before the Queen was about to scentence them to anything severe, her eyes laid on you, "And who might she be?"

"Oh, uhm—"

"Hush." Despite asking you a question, she immediately shushed you. With one wave of her hand she dismissed the gardners, her focus entirely on you now. She used her index finger, placing it under your chin and tilting you head up to get a good look at you. "You're not from here, and yet you're on royal grounds. Is there a reason for such things?"

You gulp, feeling like you were about to start sweating. You didn't know what it was you were feeling but it was making you feel hot. You twiddled your thumbs and felt you were about to sink into the ground below you, "Well, you see, I'm—"

"Do speak up when you address me." The Queen demanded. "Keep your head up and speak nicely. And don't twiddle your thumbs." She looked you up and down as if judging your appearance. "Point your toes out and curtsey before speaking again."

You do exactly as your told with now hesitation, pointing out the toes of your mary janes, lifting your blue skirt slightly and curtseying.

"Good girl." She said though it sounded more like she was mocking you, "And always say 'Yes, your Majesty.' That is how you shall address me."

"Yes, your majesty." You repeat.

The Queen places a hand on your shoulder. It was light but you felt like her hand would claw off your arm at any moment. She began to walk at a slow pace, urging you to follow her

"Now tell me, where are you from and where are you going?" The Queen questioned.

"Well, your majesty, I'm trying to find my way—"

You then get cut off again by a small laugh from the Queen. Not a real laugh. The kind of laugh that was more of an amused sound that came from her without even opening her mouth. As if what you said offended her.

You tried to think of the right words to not offend her but it was like anything that came out of your mouth had the potential of angering her, "I was just thinking—"

The Queen's eyes rolled in annoyance, "I don't care what you're thinking. With a face like that you're possibly just better off not thinking and just sitting still and looking pretty."

Her constant interruptions should irritate you beyond belief, but her words made your face feel hot and your chest tight, "Yes, your majesty. I just wanted to ask—"

And yet again, you were interrupted with just a wave of her hand to silence you, "I'll be asking the questions, hm?" She declared, stopping in her tracks and looking you up in down again, "Do you play croquet?"

The question caught you off guard. But it made you smile. Finally! A word you could make sense of! "Yes, your majesty. I do play."

"Wonderful." She said, the word dripping off her tongue like poison and a smile laced with venom.

With one demand from the Queen, all of her royal guards set up a game of croquet. It was finally something you could recognize. Something that made sense to you.

The Queen, naturally took her turn first. She picked up the red mallet, a guard placing the matching ball in front of her.

With one light hit, the ball shot through, giving her a perfect score.

She smiled cockily, pleased by her own accomplishment as the guards cheered for her.

"Your turn, dear." She said, walking to where you were standing aside.

You give a small nod and pick up the blue mallet. But, to your surprise, once you were about to hit the ball, your mallet turned into a blue flamingo. Your swing of the mallet was thrown off by the flamingo suddenly flapping it's wings, pulling you in every direction. You yelped at the suddenty of it.

"Stop—! You stupid—" you yell in frustration but couldn't seem to get the flamingo to cooperate. You were then suddenly knocked off your feet and landed on the grass.

The Queen watched in amusement, tapping her fingers against her own mallet. It was as if she found your frustration and misfortune entertaining.

"Well, that was a bit of a sorry turn, wasn't it?" She let out another sound of amusement, taking place on the playing field again.

You wished you could demand how it was unfair but you didn't. You watched as she was about to hit her ball again until the Cheshire Cat suddenly appeared behind her with a grin.

"How are you getting on?" The cat asked.

"Not at all." You huffed, crossing your arms, very frustrated with this whole ordeal.

"Hmm? What?" The Cheshire asked for you to repeat, as if he didn't hear you.

"I said, not at all!" You yelled, having enough of his mischief.

The Queen suddenly spun on her heel to face you, the cat disappearing again, "Who are you talking to?" She demanded.

The cat appeared behind her yet again with a grin,

"The cat, your majesty!" You say, pointing to the Cheshire behind her.

She turned her head to see no cat. She glared back at you, "What cat?" She seemed to be growing angrier.

The Cheshire appeared behind her again, "There!" You pointed again. And yet when she looked he was gone again.

The Queen was furious, assuming you were trying to play some sort of joke, "I'll have you know, I do not tolerate jokes." She marched toward you, grabbing you by the collar of your blue dress.

You wanted to defend yourself but only fell silent and nodded your head.

She turned back to her ball and there was the cat again. Only this time on her shoulder, still somehow unknown to her.

"Ya know, we could make her really mad?" The cat suggested with a grin. He stuck his paw out as if to grab her her crown or her hair or something, you weren't sure.

In a desprate attempt, to stop him from angering her more, you launch to try and grab him, only for him to disappear. And to your horror, you stumble into the Queen of Hearts. You and her both get knocked off your feet.

You fall on top of her, making your face heat up and your face go red. How could you not be flustered? Really, you should be scared. But being so close to such a beautiful woman like her made you feel all hot and bothered.

"Oh dear, I am so sorry, your majesty!" You quickly get off of her, "Please forgive me, I didn't mean to!" You quickly apologize, reaching out to help her up.

"Don't touch me." She demanded, standing up on her own and fixing her dress. She was not happy now.

"Please, forgive me. I was only trying to stop the cat." You plead.

The Queen takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. You were horrified of what she would do next.

She put a hand on your shoulder and straightened the sleeve of your dress, looking down on you.

"You're lucky that I'd be too ashamed to cut off such a lovely head such as your own."

Your eyes were wide and you felt like you might explode. You definitely did not like the idea of your head being cut off. But it seemed that wasn't what she had in mind for you.

Even the guards seemed shocked she didn't immediately scentence you to be beheaded.

"I may have some use for you." She said, humming in thought for a moment, "Follow me." She demanded, walking back towards the castle and the guards immediately setting back to formation and guiding the two of you to the castle.

You had no idea what she had in store for you but you could only hope it was nothing as bad as your head being removed from your shoulders. Though it seemed that somehow she managed to take a liking to you. You just had to hope it stayed that wa

[moosesarecute]

Part 5: The Shadows Sing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7

“You’re joking,” you said the second you walked inside your cabin.

It had been a month and you were hoping that this annoying male had forgotten about your embarrassing bargain.

A month where you had done your best to ignore the tight tug in your chest. The screams for him to come back.

Your head yelled for you to keep a long distance from him, but your heart told you something else.

Lucky for you your head won, for now.

So you made a bargain because you needed to know that he would leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, he already proved himself smarter than you and found a loophole.

Of course he decides to turn up on the day you’re the most exhausted and the least prepared to protect yourself.

Azriel just shrugged.

You walked further into your cabin and laid the three birds you had hunted on the table.

“You hunted them yourself?” Azriel asked.

He was still standing as far away from you as possible.

“Yeah,” you answered and slumped down on your chair.

“Rough day?” He then asked.

He confused you. He told you he was curious, but then he just asked you pointless questions about yourself.

It didn’t make sense. He definitely had a secret plan.

“Yeah,” you replied.

You had phantom in your left leg. It had started in the morning and had only gotten worse and worse. In the end of your hunt you had been struggling to walk.

So you had to go home early, because you had pain in the foot that was detached from your body. It felt quite stupid.

“What happened to your leg?” Azriel asked. He looked at you with almost caring eyes, but you knew he had to be acting.

You thought for a second how to answer the question without telling too much, but still being truthful.

“When I first started hunting I wanted to prove myself,” you started. You fickled with your hands as you spoke and your gaze was lowered. “I went for the animal with the biggest reward, a naga. It attacked and I lost my leg.”

He nodded and started to move towards you. You did your best to sit still and not flee.

He was so tall, it freaked you out.

And his wings! They were huge!

Even as a kid, you hadn’t seen bigger wings. You had to admit that it scared you.

He must have noticed your fear, because the next thing he did was to tuck his wings tightly together. Your chest bloomed with comfort when he did.

He stopped and leaned back on the table.

“You controlled a naga on the battlefield against Hybern,” he stated. He looked at you with a curious look. “How did you do that?”

Shit.

You hadn’t realized anyone saw that. It had been risky. It was the most dangerous thing you had ever let your shadows do.

You took a deep breath.

“I prayed,” you answered.

It was technically the truth. When you realized how many people on your side the naga would kill, you had let your shadows out of your grip and prayed for help.

Help to control them.

Help to save as many as possible.

For Hybern to lose.

Lucky for you, someone listened and helped you steer the naga with your shadows.

Azriel looked like he was thinking a lot. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and he stared directly at you.

His hazel eyes were like heaven. They looked so kind and safe. Like they would embrace you and hold you until everything was alright. They would help you. They would protect you.

You really wanted someone to protect you.

Azriel let out a sigh and that pulled you from your train of thoughts.

“You can just admit that you are a shadowsinger,” he told you.

You decided to ignore him.

“Can I ask you questions?” You asked him.

Where the courage came from, you didn’t know, but you felt your chest burn when you thought about how little you knew about him.

This male that randomly decided to take a part in your life, was a big mystery.

“I guess,” he answered. “But I can’t promise I’ll answer them all.”

He looked so confident. It made you feel less confident.

You took a deep breath.

“How old are you?” You firstly asked.

“500 and something,” he answered.

You nodded and tried to press down the surprise you felt. If he was over 500 years he probably fought in the first war as well as the more recent one.

It wasn’t hard to believe that he had mastered the act of being a shadowsinger with that much experience.

“Why are you curious about me?” You asked him next.

You still didn’t know why he wanted to ask you questions and so why he spent his questions getting to know you and for the most part not interrogate you.

He spent some time thinking about an answer to your question.

“The naga on the battlefield has been on my mind lately,” he explained. “I saw you steering the naga, so I thought you might have something to learn me.”

Something to learn him? About what? Did he see your shadows on the battlefield? You were in deep shit. He was for sure manipulating you into admitting that you’re a shadowsinger. You couldn’t let him know. Couldn’t let anyone know.

He must have sensed your anxiety growing, because he slowly moved further away from you. He kept acting like you could trust him! You felt yourself wanting to trust him.

“Any exciting dinner plans?” He asked.

That broke your patience.

“What do you want? Just tell me, okay? I’m sick of you pretending like you’re the nicest guy ever,” you basically yelled at him.

Frown grew on his face. Didn’t spend time thinking before he answered.

“If you think I’m acting like the nicest guy ever, then you haven’t met very many nice guys,” he said with a straightforward tone. “I’ve been drawn towards you ever since I saw you for the first time. I don’t know why, but I have. I’ve been the only shadowsinger alive for the last 400 years. I’m sure you know how lonely it can feel.”

You did.

You had for all your years with your shadows felt self conscious that the only creatures that ever wanted to have something with you to do, was shadows.

You also had no idea how to control said shadows. To be honest, they were a pain in your ass and made your life harder.

The way Azriel spoke made your heart melt. He thought about you ever since you’d met the first time. You had been thinking about him too, even though you refused to admit it.

But still your brain had the lead. He could be tricking you. He could be much more dangerous than he looks. You should tread carefully.

“I don’t have any dinner plans,” you said.

Azriel’s graze wandered from you towards the three birds on the table.

“They’re not for me,” you said. “I hunt and get money for the animals I kill or catch.”

“Good paying?” He asked.

“It varies a lot,” you answered honestly.

He nodded.

“I’ve spent two minutes today,” he stated. “I still have two more. I’ll take them a different day.”

You just nodded at him.

He shadow walked away.

You let your shadows go after you had made sure he was actually gone.

And just to make the rough day you had even worse, they were absolutely furious at you.

The first thing they did was to pull your hair and your ears. Then they started to yell at you. All of them at once.

“We want to be with mate!”

“Our mate too!”

“Friends!”

“Where are they?”

“They aren’t safe!” You yelled back. You slammed your fist into the table. “I can’t trust them! WE can’t trust them! So stop talking like they’re the most important creatures in the world!”

But deep down you felt yourself wanting them to be here and get to know both Azriel and his shadows well enough to call them friends…if not more.

The hood in front of your face felt suffocating and the binds on your hands got tighter and tighter each week you had to go before her.

Amarantha

You were leaded the same direction you always were. You had gotten the same doze faebane you always did, but something felt different. You just didn’t know what.

Suddenly you were stopped and the hood was pulled away.

The room was dark, but you still spent some time getting used to the light.

“What do you have for me?” She asked. Her voice was calm and icy, her eyes the same. They stared into your soul.

“A stag, ma’am,” you answered with your head bowed and your gaze lowered.

“Breathe,” you heard inside your head. “It’s going to be alright.”

The way the High Lord spoke made you understand that she was in a faul mood.

“That’s it?” She asked sounding almost bored.

“Yes, ma’am,” you answered. “It’s a particular rough winter.”

You tried to reason with her, but it didn’t work in your favor.

You were pushed to your hands and knees. Your head touched the ground.

“I’m responsible for food for my subjects. Are you saying that I don’t do my job?”

“No, ma’am! Not at all,” you answered, your voice was shaky with fear.

“Scream when it’s natural,” you heard and not even seconds later you felt the whip hit your back, right on the scars from your wings.

However, you didn’t feel any pain.

You knew the High Lord of Night was helping you.

You let out a little scream. And for each whiplash you screamed a little louder. Putting on your best act.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

You hated when the time under her rule haunted your dreams. You hated how weak it made you feel and how humiliating it was.

Just stood up from bed, deciding to drop breakfast and go straight out to the forest to hunt. You needed a distraction.

You had just finished putting on your leathers when you heard a knock on the door.

Your heart started to beat faster. No one ever visited you without you knowing. For example, you knew that Hazel would come visit later and that you would hunt together. She would knock, but it was too early for her. Something had to be really wrong.

“I know you’re in there,” you heard Azriel say from the other side of the door.

Your heart calmed for a second.

It was just Azriel. He was back! He wanted to see you again so soon.

But then you realized that Azriel stood outside your cabin where everyone could see him. If anyone did, you were dead.

You hid your shadows as you rushed to open the door. Before Azriel could even mutter a greeting, you had pulled him into your cabin by his wrist and closed the door behind you.

“Did anyone see you?” You asked him, still holding onto his wrist. “Or anything? An animal?”

You were freaking out. Your chest tightened and your hands started to tremble.

“Nobody saw me,” he answered. “I promise.”

You just shock your head. You didn’t believe him. You couldn’t believe him. The anxiety spread throughout your body. You couldn’t breathe.

He slowly pulled his wrist out of your hand and leaded you towards your tree stump.

“Sit,” he said. “And take a few deep breaths. You’ll pass out if you continue like that.”

You had no choice but to do as he said. He crunched down before you, his hands resting on your knees.

“Good girl,” he said. “Once more deep breath. You’re okay. No one saw me. I used my shadows. I’m a spy, I know how to sneak around.”

If you were in your right mind, you probably would have picked up the important information he told you, but you were too consumed by remembering how to breathe.

Azriel just stayed before you and waited for you to get better.

“Why are you back so soon?” You asked him. Your voice was hoarse as you spoke. You had your head and eyes pointed to the ground, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt.

“I brought you some food,” he answered.

You raised your head and looked directly into his caring hazel eyes. He looked quite handsome.

“What?”

“I brought you breakfast,” he said again.

“Why?” You asked him.

It was like he cared for you?

“You’re way too thin,” he stated. “I also might have gone through your cupboards when you were out yesterday.”

Your cupboards were empty. They always were. You never had enough food to fill them. The food would be gone within a couple of eyes anyway.

Azriel moved toward a bag he had brought. He lifted it and sat it on the table. He then pulled out apples, grapes and bananas, as well as bread, cold oatmeal porridge and some brown stuff in a rectangular shape.

He brought you so much, it was like he was worried. He cared for you?

“I thought we could have overnight oats. You can choose what toppings you want to use,” he started to explain. “And then chocolate for a little dessert.”

You weren’t sure when your mouth opened, but you soon felt some drool escape. You wipes it away and immediately closed your mouth.

“You’ve tasted chocolate before, right?” He asked and looked quite concerned.

You just shook your head.

“Grapes?”

“No”

“Overnight oats?”

“No”

It was his turn to gape at you.

“Hopefully, you’ll love it,” he said looking at you with a spark in his eyes.

“So the squirrel just took your apple?” You asked him trying to hold back your laughter.

“It did indeed just take it,” he answered with an embarrassed smile.

Throughout what had been the most delicious meal of your life, you had started to talk.

First about you never having tasted chocolate, which you soon realized might be the best thing in the world and also a good ice breaker.

Then about how you manage to build your cabin.

Then about how your prosthetic foot work.

And in the end about Azriel and his life. He told a particularly funny story where he and his brother had stolen an apple each from a tree and a squirrel had stolen it from him not even seconds later.

You were both about to burst into laughter when you for the second time today heard the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your door.

Your head whipped towards your door. Hazel weren’t supposed to arrive for a couple of more hours. Someone definitely had seen Azriel on his way to visit you.

They would kill you.

Maybe if you’re lucky it’s just Hazel that arrived early. You had to make sure that Azriel didn’t make a sound. No one could know he was there.

Unfortunately for you, you were too late.

“Who’s-“

You didn’t have time to think about your actions.

He started to speak and you needed to stop him, quick.

You didn’t even realize what you did before it was too late.

You met his shocked eyes.

His mouth was shut and covered by your shadows.

You had let them loose, in front of someone else. Someone who was basically a stranger.

As you rushed out the door and met Hazel on the other side, you knew you had just changed your life forever.

And you were sure it wasn’t a good change.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 9

Ysilla was walking up the stairs of one of the many secret passages of the Red Keep. Ysilla had explored the castle with her cousins since they were all just babes, and they used them frequently to move around unnoticed.

Ysilla liked to do it. Those dark and lonely places led to different parts of the castle. Every time she walked through those corridors, she felt like an adventure. She knew it was childish, but she enjoyed it.

But those were even the fastest ways to move in the castle, with no people watching or asking where she was going. She liked life at court, but people could be very inquisitive and curious. And she didn't want to show people the anger she was feeling. Aegon really knew how to be cruel when he wanted to be, and Aemond seemed to be the target of his jests and the Velaryon brothers, even if they were younger. Aemond felt left out from all of them, he was different. He would always following them to the Dragonpit even if he lacked a dragon, wishing for his egg to finally hatch or for a new dragon to be found.

What is a Targaryen without a dragon? Ysilla was not stranger to that thought. She still remembered how she cradled Darysir’s egg when she was just a babe of five, knowing that a dragon was the true legacy of a Targaryen. That was their sigil and symbol of power. No one but them could bound such terrible beasts to their will, no one was as strong. And yet a Targaryen without a dragon was just a human. No different from anyone else. That was a frightening thought, a saddened one too, and she felt for Aemond since he had to indulge in such pain.

“Are you alright?” She had asked him following him, to make sure he didn’t felt alone. She knew how loneliness hurt to the heart and the spirit.

His posture was stiff. Ysilla could not see his face, but she didn’t miss how he quickly pass a hand over his dirty face, “Yes, cousin.”

The girl looked down at her hands, she was picking at her nails, sometimes she did that when she felt uncomfortable. Out of words. Those situations were the hardest to handle, since she felt like her every word could make no difference.

“I’m sure you’ll have a dragon one day, my prince,” she whispered, not daring to get any closer.

Aemond scoffed shaking his head, “Don’t lie to me,” He asked turning to her, the dirt on his cheeks were stained, giving away the tears he had shad, “My egg will never hatch and there’s no dragon for me to claim. Don’t be cruel, Ysilla.”

Ysilla observed the boy in front of her, he desperately wanted to prove himself to all of them, to himself and the hurt on his face was so visible as if Ysilla was feeling it herself. Her words must have felt like another jest, and of that she felt bad.

“Aemond,” she spoke softly taking a step towards her cousin, “I was not trying to to be cruel, I hope you know that,” she assured, “What I meant is that mayhaps here in King’s Landing there are no more dragons to claim, but on Dragonstone there are. Vermithor, Silverwing, or the three wild dragons as well.”

Aemond looked at her skeptical, “And I could bend one?”

“You are a Targaryen, my prince,” she said looking at him in the eyes, “There is nothing you cannot do.”

“Other Targaryens do not think so,” he answered with frustration, “They see me fit for a pig.”

Ysilla moved her hand so that she could lift Aemond face with her fingers, “Velaryon are not Targaryen. They seem rather strong to me, but they are not us.” Her words seemed to surprise him, and when he saw her lips turn up into a smile, he timidly did the same. “Don’t be bothered by those kids.” As for his brother however…

Aegon liked to jest, never thinking about consequences. He never thought about consequences. He never cared about consequences, not until he had fun with it. She wanted to speak to her cousin, they had grew up together and he was probably the one she knew best, the one she was the closest to, the one who made her angry the most.

But when she arrived behind the hidden door of the passage, Ysilla heard a voice.

"Aemond is your brother."

It was the Queen. She must have already talked with the King.

Ysilla wondered if the King would have done something about what had happened—at least scold his son and nephews. The Queen had been so angry after Aemond had left for his chambers to clean himself. Ysilla understood how the Queen felt, and she would have liked to have a chance to talk with Aegon before his mother wanted any explanation.

"Well, he's a twat," Ysilla shook her head, hearing Aegon's muffled voice.

Gods, Aegon, she thought in silence.

"We are family," the Queen spoke, "You may cuff him about as you wish at home, but in the open world, we must defend our own."

"It was funny," she heard Aegon answer simply.

Ysilla took a deep breath. Sometimes, even the family itself can be dangerous. But that was not the case with Aemond and Aegon. They were just boys. Ysilla wished that Aegon had paid a bit more attention to his own siblings. He should cherish his family.

"Do you think Rhaenyra's sons will be your playthings forever?" The Queen asked, not trying to hide her irritation. “As things stand, Rhaenyra will ascend the throne and Jacaerys Targaryen will be her heir.” Ysilla got closer to the wall to hear at her best.

“So?” Aegon seemed lost and that made her mother groan out loudly.

“You are nearly a man-grown. How is it that you can be so shortsighted?” The Queen’s tone was full of frustration, anger and disappointment. But Ysilla could understand Aegon’s confusion. He would never think about the consequences, and Ysilla herself had found herself lost when the Queen had spoken to her about the danger their family was running into.

Does every family plot on killing each other for power? Or is just our prerogative? Ysilla thought as her mind went back to the last time she had seen her mother ride away for hawking, coming back as a corpse; cold and still, as a little girl of five found out that her own father had been the cause of that tragedy. And for what? To be wed to Rhaenyra? Become prince consort? Was that his plot?

Daemon Targaryen had left her motherless for a whim, and as he gained nothing, Ysilla had lost everything. The wrath that she felt every time she thought about her father was something that light such a fire within her, a fire that she desperately wanted to free somehow. But she had learnt the art of dignity and the taste of patience. She knew that the King would have never done anything to his precious brother, and yet Ysilla still dreamt of a day where her father would face the consequences of his crimes.

“If Rhaenyra comes into power your very life could be forfeit. Aemond’s as well,” the Queen spoke again, “She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession.”

Would Rhaenyra commit such crime against her own brothers, to secure her position and the one of her bastards sons? She once was so close to Daemon Targaryen, wearing the shiny Valyrian neckless that he had gifted for her as if it hold some kind of a promise between them. Such a beautiful neckless, Ysilla thought bitterly. My neck still remains unadorned.

A bond like the one Rhaneyra and Daemon shared, could lead them to the same crimes? Ysilla did not wish to learn the answer, she would have not learnt the answer. She had already lost her family. She could not lose another. She refused to. Aegon and his siblings would not pay the price to let bastard ascend to the Iron Throne. She could see it. But Aegon…

“Then I won’t challenge…” Aegon was cut of but the Queen’s screams. A sound that made Ysilla shiver.

“You are the challenge!” She yelled, “You are the challenge, Aegon! Simply by living and breathing!” Ysilla felt her breath labour as she slid down against the wall. It could happen. It would happen. Politics could be cruel, it knew no mercy, it knew no family. If a succession war was to happen, the first to die would always be the male heir.

“You are the King’s firstborn son,” the Queen kept saying, “And what they know, what everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones is that one day, you will be our King.” Ysilla closed her eyes with a heavy sign as she heard the Queen leave Aegon’s chambers. That future didn’t seem so far. The King did not possessed the best of health, having lost an arm and getting paler by the day. He still smiled though, and she wished that his body would keep living form many years more, because once the King would leave that world, not everyone would bent the knee to a woman, especially after giving birth to bastards, and at that point her cousins’ life could be at risk.

"Aegon," she spoke quietly, stepping into the room. She heard the boy take a shaky breath. He was about to cry, and that sound pained her heart.

"My mother had already scolded me, Ysilla," he said, pushing his head back as he stood up. Ysilla was quick to turn her back to him, noticing that he wasn't wearing any clothes. It had already happened before, so she was not surprised to see him like that, but she flushed anyway.

"I'm not here to scold you," she said, hearing him cross the room to get his clothes. In truth, she was, but after what she heard, Ysilla felt for him, and suddenly, she didn’t feel the need to argue with him anymore. You never think about the consequences, Aegon.

“So my brother had not come to cry to you as he did with Mother?” He asked with frustration, but Ysilla did not answered to that.

"I wished to ride on dragon back,” she said turning to look at Aegon, “Do you want to come with me?” His eyes widened in surprise as he observed her frame, but he nodded none the less.

They were strangely quiet as they made their way to the carriage that would bring them to the Dragonpit. Ysilla quite enjoyed that silence though. Quiet sounds, quiet times. Maybe they would all shout too much. She could feel Aegon’s eyes on her though, unsure of what to do or say. That behaviour made her smile.

“I was thinking about something,” she said suddenly, smiling when she saw her cousin take a relieved breath.

“Finally,” he said, “I wasn’t sure if you were angry with me.” Ysilla observed him.

“You get on my nerves quite easily,” she answered making him roll his eyes, but the smile never left her lips. “So, do you want to hear my thoughts?” She asked fixings her black riding clothes.

“As long as you don’t shout to me like Mother.” He mumbled looking outside the carriage.

“I was thinking about how lucky we are,” she said ignoring his scoff, “How lucky I am.” That made him frown as he turned to look at her, “After my mother I thought I would be alone for the rest of my life, but then you, all of you let me in this family,” she took a breath, “You are my family, Aegon.”

His eyes stayed on her, observing Ysilla with a confused stare, “I… I don’t understand…” Ysilla smiled, standing up as the carriage came to an halt.

“There’s no need,” she said, “I do.”

The door got opened by the guard that had escorted them. The man showed her his hand for her to take, so that she could safely get out. Ysilla knew she needed to no help, but the gallant gesture was much welcomed, so she accepted the hand. As she walked towards the Dragonpit, she could hear Aegon quick steps coming from behind her.

“You said you wanted to share a thought, but you said nothing I didn’t know,” he argued, still confused. Ysilla laughed.

“I’m glad it is no news to you,” she answered fixing the clothes of the gloves around her fingers. Suddenly he took her by the arm, making her turn.

“What did you understand that I didn’t?” Ysilla could see the confused frown upon his face, how his lips would pout when he got frustrated. That expression made her smile, as she swiftly caressed his cheeks.

“Many things, my prince,” she said freeing herself as her eyes went to Dārysyr. He was being brought to her by the Dragonkeepers. He would slither beautifully on the ground, his purple wings lapping in excitement as he saw her, like he had done since he was just an hatchling.

“Zȳhon belma qogror",” she said as Dārysyr would get close so that she could touch his snout. His scales were so hot against her gloved fingers. “Gaomagon ao jaelagon naejot sōvegon rūsīr issa?” At her question, Dārysyr growled, moving his dark wings. (My beautiful friend. Do you want to ride with me?)

Then another growl could be heard, but it was different from Dārysyr’s. Its pitch was higher and clearer. She knew who it belonged to.

“Sunfyre,” Aegon said with a genuine and happy smile on his face as his beautiful golden and pink dragon would get closer to his rider. Sunfyre was the most expressive among all the dragons and he absolutely adored Aegon. He playfully pushed Aegon as a greeting and Ysilla’s heart got full with fondness as she watch how Aegon caressed his dragon. Her hand would stroke Dārysyr’s neck as he’d protectively went around her as he always did.

“Is my prince ready to take flight?” She asked getting Aegon’s attention back to her.

“Are you ready, my lady?” He dared her as he moved to get on Sunfyre’s back.

“Don’t start something when you do not know how it will end,” she warned him playfully her securing the belt around her waist as she got comfortable on her saddle, but he just scoffed before giving Sunfyre the order so that the dragon could start moving towards the exit.

“Tolot zȳhos ābra, zȳhon ñuha.” She said patting Dārysyr’s neck, “Sīr zābūbys ābra, dārys. Targot dāeri, Dārysyr.” (He never thinks about the consequences, my friend. I’ll think about consequences, then. Fly now, Darysir.)

_____________________________________________________________

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 8

Tommy Shelby x reader

Master list

A/N: another part, another thank you for reading and following this series! I had the initial idea for this chapter for Tommy and Y/N to witness something that brings them closer, then I realized it got longer than I expected 🫢 so I’ll have to hold the introduction of another character for the upcoming part 🤭 bare with me in this ride! And enjoy the slow burn 🥰

Word count: 3,595

Gypsy poem mentioned

“Mr. Benston, what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Tommy held the receiver against his ear.

“Mr. Shelby I hope you’re doing well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake sentiment, he wanted to end the call as soon as possible.

“There’s really no other way to tell you this, but here it goes…” Tommy heard him sigh at the other end. “Rumors are spread easily and unfortunately, people believe it wherever it’s true or not.”

“I’m not following you.” Tommy stated, getting annoyed by the minute, he wanted everything done right and fast. “Where do you want to go with this Mr. Benston?”

“Mrs. Benston overheard our maids talking about the woman in charge of the charity, I know she’s close to your family and I’m not judging you, to be honest. But if I’m donating money I don’t want it to be involved in gossip and rumors.”

Leaning on his desk, Tommy looked at the ceiling and felt his jaw clenching. “What rumors are you talking about?”

“The maid assured my wife, this woman in charge…”

“YL/N. It’s Miss YL/N.” Tommy corrected him.

“Miss YL/N doesn’t know who the father of her child is. At some point she even mentioned the child is yours therefore why you put her in charge of the charity.”

The last thing Tommy wanted for Y/N was this exactly, having her rolling from mouth to mouth, people taking about her, walking over her reputation. The realization hit him hard and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a attempt to remain under control.

“There are morals and values we still swear by Mr. Shelby… and you can have as many children outside marriage as you please, but the charity needs a woman who’s at certain level, a match for our society.”

“Mr. Benston so your main concern is Y/N’s reputation because she’s not married.” He swore under his breath. “Or because you’re unsure if I’m that baby’s father.”

“That’s correct.”

“With all due respect, it’s a personal matter so that’s none of your business in the first place.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Secondly, how would it make you look in front of your beloved society if people knew about the affair you had with your maid, which led her to get pregnant with your child and since your wife wasn’t able to carry one, you stole that baby from the mother and locked her in a mental hospital?”

A heavy silence set between them.

Tommy knew a lot of dirty secrets and a bunch of respectable people who were everything but respectable.

“Hmm?” He added more pressure to the wound. “Mrs. Benston has been doing a wonderful joy raising a boy that isn’t hers by blood, a Benston heir right?”

Again, silence at the other side.

“Maids are a wonderful thing huh? They know a lot of dirty little secrets…”

Y/N strolled through the Shelby Company Ltd. under the curious eyes and glances of the secretaries, she definitely noticed the way they stared at her from head to toe, stopping an uncomfortable amount of time in her belly.

What were they looking at?

Why would they turn around and start mouthing to the closest secretary something she couldn’t understand?

Fixing her eyes on the floor, she decided to keep walking, this would happen sooner or later, she just needed to create an armor around her, a strong shell to protect her and her baby from judging glances and people with bad blood.

Knocking softly on Tommy’s door, she opened it and poking her head she found him inviting her in, but she got the hint to remain quiet while he was on the phone, so she took seat in one of the couches, her legs were on fire, she wanted to take a long bath.

“So I think from now on, you’ll double your generous donation Mr. Benston correct? Did I hear you right?”

Throwing a quick glance in Y/N’s direction, he winked at her. The phone call turned around quickly and ended with Mr. Benston being backfired,

“Yes, the Shelby Institute feels so thankful for your selflessness. Bye.” Hanging up, Tommy turned around to place the phone in its place.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

Tommy cleared his throat and went on to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Just a really wealthy man willing to donate the institution a generous amount each month.” He explained with a wicked smile.

Tommy felt bad for lying to her, but he couldn’t bare to hurt her. He just hoped the word wouldn’t spread like gunpowder around.

“Oh… well I just came to show you the numbers Michael did, considering what we already raised,” she sighed loudly.

“What is it?” Tommy eyed her from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what’s going on outside but all your secretaries were giving me strange glances, as if they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.” She chuckled.

Tommy’s head snapped in Y/N’s direction, her words caught his attention, he was always a step ahead of everyone and everything, how could he didn’t see this coming?

Something made click in his mind instantly. Someone must’ve spread the word around, therefore the sudden call he got and what Y/N just mentioned. Feeling a sudden urge to protect Y/N, Tommy decided to do something to distract her, he didn’t want her to suffer and pay for something that wasn’t her fault.

“Come with me.”

And Y/N did, she followed him because she knew there was no way to say no to him. She waved at Esme goodbye on their way out, a few days ago she announced her pregnancy with barely a bump, and now Esme was showing almost as her.

“May I ask how is the business doing?” Y/N asked in a low tone, wondering if she was interrupting his thoughts. Shuddering in the process, that business was almost a secret, the Shelby brothers were communicating through glances when anyone else was around.

“No.” Tommy answered in a serious tone but then wrinkles appeared around the corner of his eyes when he smiled. “Don’t be noisy.”

“I’m not noisy.” Y/N pouted.

“Yeah sure.” He was back into his usual self teasing and joking with her. “Do you know Russian?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you can’t help.”

“Ah come on, you don’t speak Russian either.”

Squinting his eyes, Tommy started speaking.

“save ami se

hi slobuzenja

ami jaul

o lungo drom”

It took Y/N several seconds to catch his words, but her mind suddenly remembered.

“You’re a bad liar.” She immediately went back in time, an ancient Romani poem he showed her years ago, but he was making a Russian accent. “in the forests

we respect

animals flowers trees

when we build our fire

we always clean up after us.” She continued the translated version.

Tommy gave her then a surprised look. “You still remember it?”

“Proud gypsy.” Y/N nodded.

How could she ever forget? How couldn’t she go back in time to that day when she went to play outside and meet a boy that was pretending to ride a caravan -a made shift with a sheet and pulled by a horse. He was shy and reserved at first, but she was fascinated by the endless stories he told her about his gypsy roots and tales on the road.

She spent hours listening to him speaking roca -with the proper translation of course-, and eventually he found the poem in his mother’s notebook.

“Even then, you were always worried about everyone.” She noted.

He had always been protective over those who he loved.

“Bad habits die hard.” Tommy chuckled, his childhood wasn’t always easy, but she definitely made it better.

Y/N wondered how different he would be if things happened differently, if his mother was still alive, if they didn’t have to go to the war… if she didn’t thought Scott was a good distraction. But she was forced to put her thoughts aside, as she felt urgency to pee. “Can you stop the car?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Just stop it… I need to take a wee.” She explained embarrassed.

Tommy looked around, they were in the middle of nowhere. “Let me get closer to those trees.”

She bit her lower lip, pray he’d hurry up. “Are you sure an animal won’t bite me here?”

“If something bites you it doesn’t matter, just spit in the wound.”

“That’s gross!” She defended.

Tommy gave her an amused look. “You don’t know right? Pregnant women salive is full of properties that cuts off the venom of snakes.”

The surprised look Y/N gave him assured Tommy that she didn’t know.

“How do you know that?”

“A snake bit me back in the day, my Mum was pregnant with Ada she used her spit and covered the wound with a clean cloth and here I am, strong as a horse.”

“Do you always have to refer to an animal? What’s wrong with you?”

His chuckle resonated into the deepest parts of her soul as she climbed out of the car to find a safe place to take a wee -as safest as the trees could be of course-.

Tommy took a cigarette, he was aching for a smoke. The road was practically deserted, but still he was always looking around, keeping an eye just in case. Anything could happen in a blink and he needed to be alert.

“Are you done?!” He shouted over his shoulder, just to piss her off.

“Would ya give me a fucking minute?!” Y/N shouted back mortified.

This wasn’t practical at all, she felt like an animal in the wild, but this was all she got for now and she needed to stick to it. Besides it wasn’t like she could hold it for so long.

Cleaning herself she tried to rush back to the car, huffing from the effort. “Sorry about that, can’t control it.” She apologized getting in the car again.

Tommy held the passenger door open for her while blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.

“It’s alright, needed to stretch a bit anyways.” He grinned. Who would’ve told him he’d stoping his car in the middle of nowhere for a pregnant woman to pee. “So… did Polly tell you already?” Tommy asked giving her a side glance.

Y/N couldn’t help to smile big. “I asked her to not tell me. Did she tell you?”

Tommy started rubbing his chin, a soft smile decorating his lips as he kept his eyes on the road again.

“Don’t tell me, I just want this baby to be healthy.”

“I really don’t understand how she knows, but she got Ada’s right and I remember she did the same with my Mother when she was pregnant with Finn.”

“She could use her talent and charge for it.” Y/N joked about Polly’s gift to predict the baby’s sex.

“See, that’s a brilliant mind, always sell your abilities.” Tommy encouraged. “Alright, this is it.”

Y/N noticed Tommy took a right and entered a different road. The property was as big as his own house. She could only think how tired she’d be to have to go from one room to another, poor maids who had to clean everything.

The gardener tipped his head towards Tommy knowledging him, while he moved as if he owned the place. Y/N following his steps, feeling like she really didn’t belong there.

“Need to have some rest? It’s a long way.” Tommy looked over his shoulder to make sure she was doing okay.

“No, I’m fine.” Her eyes stopped at the pond, it had fishes.

“Gold fish keeps the worms away from the horses.” Tommy explained, reading her mind.

Y/N gave him a doubtful look. “Are you messing with me?”

But Tommy shook his head. “Never, I swear it’s true. It helps to keep the water clean.” He crouched down, inviting her to do the same. “Go on, you can touch them.”

To show her it was alright, Tommy tipped his hand inside, making a circle with his finger.

When she was about to dip her finger too, Tommy spoke again.

“Careful, they can bite your hand off.”

Y/N gasped in shock at first, then when she realized he was only joking, she laughed. It was a strange sensation, the skin felt flaky against her touch made her giggle.

“I hope the horses won’t eat the fishies.” She added and then saw Tommy rolling his eyes. “Oh what? You’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

Y/N shook her hand towards him, making a few drops land on his suit and vest.

Tommy clicked his tongue and pretended as if he would throw water at her. Y/N squealed giving her back at him, feeling like they were teenagers again playing by the river.

“Follow me, I want you to meet Apollo.”

“Your horse has a name?” Y/N asked perplexed.

“Of course, they all do.” He pointed at the floor for her to be careful with the hay. “This good boy is going to win the next Derby.”

Y/N saw Tommy stood in front of the box and gently caressed the animal, taking his time to ask how he was doing, check behind his ears and take a look at the mare’s body. He had always been a horse’s man, the amount of time he spent brushing that white horse his mother gave him, no one knew where it came from, but Tommy assured her it was a fine horse, he had magic in his eyes and now she was witnessing the way the horse followed Tommy’s steps like he was kind of under a spell.

Y/N noticed the way Tommy’s energy changed, it was indescribable but he turned into someone completely different. They were in a bubble, in their own little world, like they were one soul divided in two bodies.

And it almost made Y/N feel jealous of the closeness and complicity between Tommy and his horse, she could hear him whispering sweet little nothings and the way the horse made little sounds in response.

Then the horse stared at her and started moving slowly, tipping his head down. At first Y/N was shocked to feel the moose against her stomach, but Tommy told her it was alright, his horse wouldn’t hurt her.

“It’s like he knows I’m pregnant?”

“Oh he does,” Tommy nodded, “I just told him.”

“Is this another of your jokes?” She laughed nervously as the horse breathed against her baby bump.

“I never joke about horses, Y/N. He knows there’s a life growing inside you, they understand more than we do.”

There was something in his blue eyes that she couldn’t name, something that was making her hold his gaze. Something so profound she never experienced before. It was both terrifying and calming at the same time.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t intense enough, she felt her baby wriggling inside her for the first time.

“What is it?” Tommy asked with concern in his voice.

“The baby… is moving.” She explained.

Grabbing his hand in a blunt movement, she placed it on top of her blouse, giving him a few seconds to feel the movement against her side.

“Oh wow.” Tommy finally managed to feel a small but determined movement against his palm.

“Over here.” She changed his hand in another direction. Her hand covering his, she could feel Tommy holding his breath as his eyes shot up to find hers, surprise written all over them, this was something he had never felt before.

“Is this something good?” He asked in a whisper.

“I think the baby started moving when the horse was close, like the baby feels the horse around.”

Was this what a new life felt like? The miracle of a tiny human growing inside her?

Tommy could feel his heart about to explode, to be able to experiment something so personal, so profound, something that wasn’t meant to be his.

He, the ruthless leader of a gang, the heartless Small Heath Devil, there he was with tears blurring his vision and emotions making him feel things he had never felt before.

This baby wasn’t born yet and it was already his weakness.

The only time she had seen Tommy cry was when his mother passed away. He rarely allowed his emotions to the surface and Y/N knew too well this meant to him so much more than he could than he could actually put into words. Her unborn child somehow managed to get under his skin, past the high wall Thomas Shelby had built around him.

And now she was emotional too.

Tommy had been nothing but a gentleman to her, looking after her every need and wish during the hardest time of her life. And instead of pointing a finger and judging her actions, he welcomed her under his wing to protect her from the cruel world outside.

Without a doubt, Tommy was the best man she knew.

“It feels like a huge butterfly’s wings fluttering.” She explained.

Tommy felt lost for words, there was nothing he could say that could match what he felt.

A part of him felt guilty for stealing the baby’s father place and get the chance to experience all of this, but the other part told him he wasn’t doing anything wrong, because the baby’s father actually chose not to be involved. And in that moment, he made a silent promise to look after that child as his own.

Someone clearing his throat interrupted them. “I’m going to clean the barn, and the smell can be a bit strong for the lady.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tommy muttered, still altered by his feelings, so he turned around and walked his horse into the box, then he guided Y/N outside.

And then he did the only thing he knew when he wasn’t sure how to deal with his feelings. “I think it was the way your baby is telling you about his or hers future horse.”

Y/N gave him a shocked glance. “No, no way. Tommy you can’t buy my child a horse!”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” He scoffed. “Besides, I‘m that baby’s godfather remember?” Tommy announced proudly.

She groaned. “Don’t make me regret it.” As they started walking towards his vehicle, Curiosity won her over. “Who lives here?”

“My horses’ trainer.”

“No way, really?”

“Her husband passed away so she took over his business and with her family’s wealthy, well she became filthy wealthy.”

“So the horse training is just a hobby?”

Tommy shuddered not wanting to get too deep into that conversation. “Probably, once you have money you always want more and more.”

Y/N took his hand when he approached the other side of the vehicle.

The weight of his words sinking in her mind.

“That’s how it works? That’s what you want? More money?”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N always knew what to say to get his attention, the truth -he sometimes didn’t want to hear-, always hanging from her lips.

“That’s just how the world works, Y/N.” He replied instead. “Money can buy anything.”

He was right, he was just proving that by recently buying a mansion, he already had three cars parked in his garage, eight horses plus the ones under training, he paid for a staff at his house, paid the cops, he was also paying the remodeling of the building they’d use for the Shelby Institute and everything that was needed. And last but not least, he was paying her salary and a monthly amount of money for her baby already, the sapphire he recently gifted her and endless other things.

The echo of his words silenced her own.

Y/N decided then to turn her head away from him to look outside on the road they were leaving behind.

But you can’t buy love. Can’t buy happiness either. So… is it really worth it? She wanted to say, but instead the words kept playing in the back of her mind.

“Before I forget…a man came looking for you at the Institution.” Y/N explained shaking her head a bit, her mind felt funny at times and she forgot things.

“Who? When?”

She saw the frown in Tommy’s face. “A few days ago, he seemed strange if you ask me, wearing clothes as a priest, said he’d supervise th-”

“Fucking Hughes, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He demanded frustrated.

“Calm down, I-I forgot.”

“This is important and delicate, Y/N you can’t simply forget those things.” Tommy snapped not aware he was hurting her feelings.

Until a little sob escaped her lips and Tommy felt like a piece of shit.

“No, Y/N I’m sorry shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He didn’t want to upset her. “Sorry I’m just trying to keep you safe, away from this…”

“I should‘ve told you sooner.” Y/N took a deep breath. She didn’t know what’s gotten into her, that reaction wasn’t like her. “I didn’t like him, but I thought he was related to the operation.”

“If you see him again, don’t tell him anything.” Tommy held the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m going to place some blinders guarding the Institute.”

Y/N turned to look at Tommy and by the tone in his voice, she felt worried.

Next part

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[bangtangalicious]

gimme more (m) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x f-reader

genre: smut pwp drabble innocent!jungkook x innocent!reader, loss-of-innocence!au

wc: 1.2k (short!)

summary: you grind on jungkook till he cums in his pants

warnings: 18+ (be gone children!) pw(o)p explicit smut. NEEDY koo but what did you expect, whining, outercourse, grinding or rather riding jungkook for all he's worth, cumming in pants, licking, begging, stuttering, multiple orgasms bc jk is a horny boi, just wild messy filth, light manhandling, one smacc on dat ass, inexperienced!koo & reader, fondling, breast play, did i mention needy koo? unedited

part of the touch me wherever universe. *can be standalone*

Jungkook loved going shopping with you. Especially the part where you'd try on anything he picked out and twirl around for him. Like a little plaything. He'd test your limits at first. A cute crop top. A black bikini. A short sundress.

Could you blame him? The way your plump little ass looked in the flimsy fabric had him crossing his legs in an attempt to hide the raging hard on in his sweats.

Today the roles were reversed though. Jungkook needed new pants.

Why? Because he kept ruining them. Because of you. Too embarrassed to let his parents wash them in the laundry, afraid he would have to explain how easily you could make him cum without even trying.

As you dragged him into the Calvin Klein store, he was immediately uncomfortable. So many pictures of naked men. Were you looking? Did you like it? Of course not, you only like Jungkook, you told him yourself.

You wouldn't lie to him, right?

"I like these" You handed him a pair of dark jeans, a blue so deep it reminded him of the ocean. "Go try them on"

He did, jumping into the thick fabric. The pants were snug. When he walked out of the fitting room, he almost choked seeing that you were trying on some underwear.

"Oh hey" You were unphased. Then again, why should you mind? Jungkook had seen your body. Kissed and licked every inch of it. You had nothing to hide from him.

But he had something to hide from you. You wouldn't be able to tell, not in these jeans. But Jungkook needed you now.

He scolded himself internally. Can't you keep it together one fucking time! He worried you'd find him pathetic. Once you learned better.

Seokjin had offered to teach the two of you how to have sex properly. Jungkook knew you were curious, but frankly he liked things they way they were. You knowing only the taste of him. His lips. His cock.

Self-control? Jungkook never needed it. Why should he? You'd never deny him. What would he do if you did, what would he do if you said no? If you tried to pull away as he picked you up into his lap, kicking the dressing room door shut? If you didn't let him seat your cushy little cunt right over his zipper, gripping your thighs so tight?

He'd probably cry. And he knew you'd never deny him then.

Could you tell he was hard? He watched your face intently, while you continued to play with the straps of the bra you were clearly not finding comfortable.

Jungkook could help with that. It would be his pleasure.

He snapped the damn thing off.

You sighed with relief, his hands tracing the imprint of the tight underwire before cupping over your mounds. You were so fucking pretty, and you didn't even know it. But he liked that you didn't know. If you did, you might leave him. He wouldn't know how to survive without you. Without being able to touch you just like this.

"Do you like them?"

Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you.

"The jeans?" Ohh.

His hands slid to your bare back, pulling you closer till your chest was pressed against his. He wanted to feel you, but he couldn't not through those damn jeans. The desperation had him boiling inside. Feverish, as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

He gritted his teeth, aware of the warmth between your thighs and wishing he could feel the slippery wetness that was no doubt there. Instead he grabbed handfulls of your ass, pushing you up, letting you bounce on his groin. Once, then a little harder. Harder.

"Fuckk" Jungkook screamed in frustration. Nails digging into the cotton panties. He pushed his hips up, desperately trying to get friction for his cock. "Why can't I feel you--I wanna feel you, Y/n"

His cock strained painfully, trapped within the confines of his jeans. So badly he wished it would tear open, so that you could bounce right on his cock. You were so fucking warm, and tight, he knew how you felt. How could he go on now that he knew--he needed you all the time!

"It hurts" He whined, "It hurts so bad" You caressed his shoulders, getting him to calm down. Jungkook exhaled shakily, eyes red with fury.

"Let me try" You shifted your weight, clenching your thighs around his torso. You rolled your hips, deep and intentional, doing your best to spread open so that the tiny bulge in his pants could sneak right in.

"Mmpfh" His face was buried into your neck, hair brushing against your breast. "More, m-more please, need to feel more"

You did as he said. He loved you for that. Loved how eager you were to meet his every need. He would do the same for you, of course. The thought reminding him to reward your effort by popping your breast into his mouth. Lightly biting on the flesh.

"Koo" You blushed, grinding down even harder. Finally Jungkook was able to get some friction. A bare semblance of satisfaction. It only left him craving more.

"Y-yeah, harder please I can feel it" He buried his face into your chest as you rode him. Ass thrusting against his rigid jeans. The tent growing as he bucked his hips.

You began to slow down.

"NO" Instinctively, Jungkook slapped your ass.

You froze.

"Uh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to do that--d-don't stop PLEASE! fuck don't stop now just keep going like that just a little bit. Please, for me, it's so good, it's so fucking good, don't stop"

He kissed your lips, urging you on. "Feels so good, just wanna fit right into you like this" He thrust up, brushing against your clit. You groaned in response.

"You like it too, don't even lie to me Y/n. You like sitting on me like this" He peppered kisses across your jaw, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you moving against him.

"Just a bit more. Can you o-open wide please? Yeah, yeah," Jungkook sighed as you flattened your pussy right onto his bulge. You moved back and forth, rubbing up against him desperately.

"G-gunna, oh god Y/n, I'm--" Jungkook hissed loudly. Painfully, he came, pressure snapping within him. His cock twitched, still desperate to release. Still hard as a rock.

You looked at him curiously, wondering if he was done.

As if.

"Get off" He pushed you suddenly. You yelped, his movements quick as he stood up, grabbing you by the waist, turning you around and pinning you against the wall.

"Koo--wait"

Jungkook let out a low growl. He was far too frustrated to explain himself. He unhooked his jeans, dragging them out until his cock sprung through his boxers.

Immediately he pressed the tip against your ass, rutting shamelessly as though you were a pillow. His teeth scraping the top of your head, hands gripping your breasts--pinching your nipples, still covered in his saliva.

His cock slid against the fabric. He knew you were wet. Could feel it leaking through. He fucked against you, rabid. Sweat budding at his forehead.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes" Without thinking he reached down to drag the fabric between your legs aside, coating himself with you. You winced but he could care less. He couldn't think straight. Everything was white with pleasure and red with need.

You were close. You skin so sweet as he kissed all over your neck. The pretty arch of your back as he slid his cock through your folds. Unrelenting.

"M'gonna cum" Jungkook mumbled, blinking back tears. His hips speeding up furiously, ignoring the bruising on your ass. He pressed your face against the wall, swallowing your lips as he spilled down your thighs.

You let out a long sigh. Glad for a moment of stillness.

"So are you gonna buy those jeans?"

Jungkook giggled, kissing you fondly.

"Only if you promise to sit on my lap whenever I do"

want more needy!koo smut? read the original or:

scenarios: when you get a crush | when he takes your virginity | if he got you pregnant | kink discovery: dacryphilia | when your tits ache and he helps

drabbles: tickle me there | touch yourself here | wanna touch you | soaked n’ slippery

a/n: this is for my tmw babies, because i keep you waiting for so long. hope you enjoy. thank you for reading <3 please let me know what you think!

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

[uniquexusposts]

The politician's daughter (2)

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 3335 Requested by: @marjoriesemente Note: there will be a third part because the ideas keep on coming into my head :))

Summary: the first house party for Y/N, how will that end up?

Click here to go to part 1

One week later, Y/N and Amelia were invited to a house party. It was a girl from their class who happened to share the details, so Y/N and Amelia, being curious, showed up to see what was happening. They heard so many different stories about it that they didn’t know what to believe or expect. They arrived at Wren’s house, the thumping bass and laughter spilling into the night air. The mansion was lit up with twinkling lights, and the sound of people enjoying themselves filled the atmosphere. As they walked up the driveway, passing some of the most expensive cars and their chauffeurs, Amelia glanced at Y/N with a grin. 

“You ready for this?” Amelia asked, excitement in her eyes. 

Y/N smiled back. “Absolutely. You have been to this before, right?” 

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Amelia said and pushed open the door. 

They stepped inside, immediately greeted by the warmth and energy of the part. The living room was packed with students, some dancing, others chatting in groups. The kitchen island was covered with various drinks and snacks, and the air smelled faintly of perfume and cologne, mingled with the scent of various beverages. 

The smell of the rich and expensive. 

Amelia led Y/N through the crowd, introducing her to a few familiar faces. Y/N looked around and recognised Wren, who was holding court in the centre of a group, his infectious laughter rising above the music. These people were so different from where she came from… Y/N ignored it and looked back at her group of people. They grabbed drinks and started dancing in the living room. The music was loud, and the rhythm infectious. Y/N found herself letting go, swaying to the beat and laughing with Amelia as they moved to the music. 

Unbeknownst to them, James stood on the other side of the room, leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand. His eyes followed Y/N as she danced, and his frown was on his face. He watched her interact with the others, her laugh genuine and carefree. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. Just like her outfit, he first saw her in clothes other than the school uniform. She was wearing straight-legged trousers; he couldn’t tell what colour they were, but they looked cherry red. And it looked like it was leather. She wore a black top, and her hair perfectly framed her face. 

Cyril nudged James with his elbow, a knowing smirk on his face. “She is interesting, huh?” 

James rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Just making sure she’s not causing any trouble.”

“Right,” Cyril said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because she’s such a troublemaker.”

James ignored Cyril’s comment and took another sip of his drink, his gaze still fixed on Y/N. He watched as she threw her head back in laughter at something someone said to her, her eyes sparkling with joy. There was something magnetic about her, something that drew people in, and it was clear she was fitting in effortlessly. Yet she was an outsider. 

The next song came on and everybody seemed to enjoy singing along; Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars. His eyes were fixated on Y/N; she was singling along unashamed with her friends. At some point, her group became the main show to watch as they seemed to have the most fun of all. It wasn’t annoying; people enjoyed seeing them so passionately. Y/N’s eyes briefly met James’ and he left like all the air got squeezed out of his lungs. 

The Y/N effect. 

As the night wore on, Y/N and Amelia took a break from dancing and headed to the backyard, where people stood around the pool, chatting and dancing. Y/N sat down on a pool bed while Amelia was getting some drinks. 

Just then, James appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He approached Y/N, his eyes locking while he walked over to her. 

“Mind if I join?” He asked, his tone casual. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, being impressed by his behaviour. “Even if I said no, you still would sit here,” she mumbled under her breath. 

James wanted to sigh out of frustration, but he held it back. He sat down next to her. They sat there in silence, both looking in front of them. 

The reflection of the twinkling lights danced on the water, creating a serene backdrop for the tension between them. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the party filled the air around them, but they felt like they were in their own little bubble of quiet tension.

After a moment, Y/N broke the silence. “So, what is your deal?”

James glanced at her, his eyebrows lowered and squinting his eyes slightly. “My deal?”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning slightly to face him. “What’s your deal? During class you don’t even bother to show me around, like a buddy is supposed to do. And suddenly, you’re sitting next to me at a party.”

He let out a low chuckle, more of a sigh than a laugh. “My deal? I don’t owe you any explanations. If I felt like sitting here, than I sat here. Simple as that.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched, irritation flickering in her eyes. “Well, lucky me,” she sighed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I must be so honoured to have your charming company.”

“Believe me,” he replied, his smirk widening into a sneer. “The feeling is not mutual.”

The tension between them crackled in the air, thick and suffocating. Y/N felt her temper flaring, but she bit back her retort, not wanting to satisfy him.

They sat in silence, the distant sounds of the party serving as a stark contrast to the hostility between them. Y/N’s mind raced, trying to devise a way to diffuse the situation or at least escape it.

“So,” James spoke up, breaking the silence. “What’s the deal with you, huh? Why are you even here?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, refusing to let him see how much his words stung. “I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. “What, did your ego need stroking or something?”

James chuckled, a dark, humourless sound. “Please,” he replied, his tone mocking. “I don’t need anyone to stroke my ego.” He looked at her. “But can I at least offer you a drink now we’re mocking around?”

“No, thanks,” she replied. 

“Wine, beer…” 

“No, thank you.”

“Anything else?” 

Y/N sighed loudly, turning to him. “I don’t drink. Besides, I don’t want to be served by you.”

“Oh, you are the driver, I see. Where is your chauffeur from daddy?” James said, his smirk growing wider. 

Y/N licked her lips and scanned his face; there was something she liked about snapping towards him. Maybe because she disliked him, it made it easier to shoot back at comments he made. “I did not drink yesterday, I do not drink today and I will not drink tomorrow.”

“Scared of a public scandal?” James smirked, referring to his scandals within the family that got publicly. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N faked a smile on her face. “Trauma,” she mentioned cynically. “Brother who almost died because of alcohol poisoning.” 

James’ face straightened, and he parted his lips. He did not see this coming, and he immediately regretted saying it. His eyes followed her when she got up. 

“It’s the most dangerous thing to ever make assumptions about people, James. Enjoy your night,” she professionally smiled and walked away from him. 

As Y/N walked away, James watched her, a mix of regret and curiosity flickering in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that response, and it left him unsettled. Maybe he didn’t know her after all. She looked like a girl who was an open book, but he was wrong. She wasn’t just the daughter of a politician; there was more beneath the surface.

* * * 

Y/N walked off the stairs in her house when she heard the doorbell ring. She immediately looked at the time on her phone: who could this be? She expected to be home alone all day since her mum was out of town with friends and her brother was cycling with his friends. Wondering, she walked to the front door and opened the door. 

“James Beaufort.” She blinked, genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?” Before he could answer, she asked him another question. “How do you know I live here?” 

“Have you started the project yet?” James asked, putting his hands casually in the pockets of his trousers. 

Y/N squeezed her eyebrows together. At the beginning of this week, they got paired up for a project that needed to be finished on Monday. In two days. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you?” 

“No.”

She sighed and looked away. “That’s why I didn’t start on it either. Did you really think I would do this project on my own and let you benefit from it?” 

“That is why I’m here, Y/N L/N,” James amusingly smiled. “You’ve got time today?” 

Y/N hesitated, then stepped aside. “Come in, I guess.” 

James walked in, glancing around the small hall. The house was semi-detached, completely renovated and quite large for this type of house. If he was honest, he expected more. He expected a home that reflected the wealth and status of Y/N’s family. This wasn’t how Maxton Hall students lived. Y/N led him to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the patio doors. 

“Expected more?” Y/N smirked and stood in the middle of the living room. James only looked at her. “How’s the hangover? Or are you still drunk to think that this is a great idea?”

James chuckled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “No hangover, and no, I'm not drunk. Just determined to get this project done. But thanks for your concern.” He showed a forced smile. “I figured we should actually get the project done, and it’s better if we work on it together.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean it’s better if I do the work and you take credit?”

He had a slight smirk playing on his lips. “I’m here, aren’t I? That means I’m willing to put in the effort.”

She slowly nodded. “Alright then,” she breathed. “Let’s set up the table outside; the weather is nice.” She opened the two patio doors, letting the outside in on the house.

The fresh air and the soft sounds of birds chirping filled the living room. Y/N walked outside and grabbed the cushions from the shed. She put them on the chairs and put a tablecloth over the wooden table. James stepped outside and looked at the garden. Again, it was small, but it was cosy. There was a small field of grass, many flowers, and a tree. It was a well-maintained garden. 

“Take a seat,” Y/N invited him. “Can I get you a coffee or something else?” A small smile peaked through her stubborn look. 

“A coffee, please,” he replied and sat down on a chair. 

“Black, cappuccino, iced?” 

James looked at her after he had taken a moment to appreciate the serene surroundings. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and linen shorts. Her hair was up in a claw clip. No makeup on her face. Then his eyes fell on the massive blue bruise on her thigh. “Whatever you have,” he said, still looking at the bruise. “What happened there?” 

“Fell off my bike. Braked too late and slid off my bike,” she briefly mentioned. 

James watched as Y/N disappeared into the house, still thinking about the bruise. It didn't quite fit his image of her: controlled, composed, almost untouchable. He shook his head slightly, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes roam over the garden again. Despite its small size, it was inviting, a little oasis of calm.

Y/N returned a few minutes later with two glasses of coffee. She handed one to James, who took it with a nod of thanks. “Iced cappuccino,” she said and walked back inside again. She brought some snacks and glasses of water to the table. Once she settled into the chair opposite him, she opened her laptop. “The project.”

“Yeah. We have to set up a fictional company. Any ideas?” 

“I don’t want a clothing brand or something with politics-related stuff.”

“Noted.”

It was silence. They both were thinking about company ideas. While they were thinking, the birds chirped around. 

“Technology?” James proposed. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Perhaps…” Y/N took a deep breath. “I would say makeup, but no.”

“If you want to do makeup, we can make it work.”

“Hmm, no.”

It went on for almost thirty minutes. They exchanged ideas ranging from eco-friendly products to various services, but none seemed to stick. Each time one of them felt convinced about an idea, they struggled to back it up with a solid plan.

James was fidgeting with a pen and sat slumped on the chair. “The first thing that comes to your mind,” he said, bored and pointed at Y/N. “Three… Two… One… Go, say it.”

Instant panic flickered through her eyes. “Uh… Coffee!” They looked at each other. “It’s the first thing that came to my mind,” Y/N shrugged. 

“Uhu, not judging you,” he replied, putting his hands up in the air. “And what about coffee?”

She blew her cheeks up. “A subscription box?” Y/N sat up and straightened her back. “Honestly, I would love to have a subscription because then I would never run out of coffee. And if there’s a physical store and I only have to scan my subscription for a coffee and bill afterwards, the world would be a lot better.”

“Are you addicted to coffee?” He tilted his head, and a smile played on his lips. 

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

“No, for real. I drink one coffee a day, not more.”

“If you say so.”

As they brainstormed and exchanged ideas, the initial tension between them seemed to fade. They found themselves working well together, their ideas complementing each other’s. The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by the occasional joke or sarcastic comment.

While they were working on the plan, a woman entered the house. Y/N didn’t look up at it, but James couldn’t help but steal a glance. It could be Y/N’s mother. When he saw the woman nearing the backyard, he quickly looked back at the laptop. 

“Good afternoon,” the woman greeted the two students. 

“Hey, mum,” Y/N smiled warmly when she saw her mother entering the garden. “How was your day?” 

“Perfect, couldn’t imagine a better day for afternoon tea,” Y/N’s mother replied. Her eyes shifted to James. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Y/N’s mother.”

James stood up politely and extended his hand. “James Beaufort, nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N.”

She shook his hand, a pleasant smile on her face. “Nice to meet you too, James. Beaufort? From the clothing brand?” She squinted her eyes. 

“Yes, that is right,” he nodded. 

“Ah, from the school uniform. And your dad has suits from Beaufort as well,” Y/N’s mother said to Y/N. “Anyway, I won’t disturb you two anymore,” she smiled. “But let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Mum,” Y/N replied, her smile still in place as her mother left the garden.

As her mother stepped back inside the house, James could hear her mumble that she wanted to take the scarf off her head. He watched her remove the scarf from her head, and his jaw dropped. His eyes quickly met Y/N’s eyes. 

“Do you mind me asking…” James began, his voice trailing off.

Y/N looked questioningly at him, but then realised her mother had removed her scarf. “Cancer,” she answered. “But she beat it. She’s still recovering.”

James’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady. “It’s okay. She’s a fighter. It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it.”

James was silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of her words. It was a side of Y/N he hadn’t seen before, a glimpse into her challenges outside of school. He felt a pang of guilt for the way he had treated her, the assumptions he had made. 

Just a few moments after that, Y/N’s brother entered the garden from the back. He looked like a professional cyclist, wearing tight cycling gear and a helmet tucked under his arm. Y/N’s brother introduced himself to James and greeted Y/N, quickly sharing his cycling journey of the day. 

Y/N slightly blushed. “Sorry, it’s always a bit chaotic when everybody gets home.”

The corners of James’ lips curled up. “Don’t worry. It’s different. My house is usually pretty quiet. When is your dad coming home?”

“Not,” Y/N mumbled, looking down. “He doesn’t live with us anymore. He lives in London.”

“Oh.” 

“He had always been working in the politics. When I was ten years old, he became a minister. Two years ago, he became the vice president. My mum got cancer at the same time. My brother the alcohol poisoning. It didn’t work. So a month ago, when my mum got cancer-free, they decided to separate for now. My mum, my brother and I moved here; my dad has a career in London, and yeah, that’s life,” she shrugged, keeping her tone casual. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. James felt a pang of guilt for his earlier comments. He had been quick to judge her life based on surface impressions. “I’m sorry I called your mother with your last name. I…”

“It’s fine. They are separated, not divorced. Everything is under my dad’s last name. Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. 

An awkward silence settled between them. James could sense there was more to Y/N’s story than she let on, but he didn’t want to pry further.

“Anyway, the company,” Y/N said, switching the subject. 

Hours passed as they worked side by side, bouncing ideas off each other and gradually shaping their project into something they were both proud of. James felt a genuine sense of collaboration and understanding with Y/N for the first time. It was a refreshing change from the tension that had defined their previous interactions.

When they finally wrapped up their brainstorming session, Y/N stretched and looked at James with a satisfied smile. “I think we’ve got a solid plan. Thanks for coming over and working on this with me.”

James returned her smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team. Who would have thought?”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Certainly not me.”

As James prepared to leave, he glanced around the garden once more, appreciating the tranquillity it offered. “You have a nice home, Y/N. It’s... cosy.”

“Thanks,” she replied, her tone sincere. “And thanks for understanding.”

James nodded, a newfound respect for Y/N settling in. “If you have time, we can meet up tomorrow? For the presentation and the finishing touches?”

“Sounds like a plan.

“At mine? Twelve o’clock?”

“Sure, see you tomorrow. And send me your address; unfortunately, I don’t have my ways,” she smiled. 

“I will,” he smirked. 

As he walked away, James couldn’t help but feel that this project had given him more than just a grade—it had given him a glimpse into Y/N’s world, and a chance to reevaluate his own judgments and assumptions. 

Click here to go to part 3

[moon1833]

Arrogance

Warning: smut, female reader, enemies to friends to lovers kinda, hate-fucking, semi-public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, Tsukishima is a bottom and I will die on this hill, female reader, College!Tsukishima

He was mean. Agonizingly rude and arrogant. And to you, you saw that as a competition. You wouldn't call yourself mean, but you defiantly didn't let any of his bullshit slide. You made that abundantly clear at your first meeting. You had know of the blonde boy in your class since you started Karasuno College, but luckily avoided him up until the end of your first year.

"Watch where you're going, shorty. Some of the grownups need to get through." He smirked, barely looking at you as he knocked into you.

He half expected to hear a remark from your pretty mouth, or maybe you'd just roll your eyes and walk away. What he didn't expect, was for you to grab his bicep and shove him into the wall with most of your strength. You weren't trying to hurt him, but you knew it would take a lot to move the third year middle blocker. You were in a bitter mood.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you." You watch him stumble back slightly, eyes wide with shock. His lips part to speak, but you don't wait for him to respond, turning towards your next class.

Tsukishima had never been spoken to like that by a complete stranger. He supposed it was warranted, he wasn't oblivious to how rude he was to others. He just didn't think he'd be able to invoke that reaction from you of all people.

From then on, he made sure to glare at you whenever he got the chance, which happened to be often since you were now in the same class. Tsukishima made it his mission to pester you, and every single time, you put him in his place.

It started an odd relationship between the two of you. Neither of you would call each other friends, but you'd both be lying if you said you didn't seek out the other one, even if it was just to argue.

You sat in class one morning, the seat of the desk uncomfortable as you watched the teacher hand out the graded exams from last week. You didn't need to turn your head to see Tsukishima's eyes narrowed onto you, bouncing his leg with anticipation.

Your teacher places the exam face down on your desk, and you flip it over swiftly, trying not to look too eager. You smirk as your eyes trail to the boy in the row next to you, turning the paper to him so he could read the 100 marked proudly in the right corner of the paper.

You watch his gaze darken, scowling as he turns away from you. You fake coo at his actions, watching his left hand grip the desk until his knuckles turned white.

The teacher handed back Tsukishima's exam last, and you tried to peer at his score to no avail. The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you found yourself chasing after the blonde, curious to see just how many points you beat him by.

"Don't get shy on me now." You say cockily, standing next to his desk and peering down on him.

He glares back up at you, a tinge of embarrassment obvious due to his reddening ears. Even if this was the only expression you ever saw him give you, it satisfied a part of you.

Neither of you notice the rest of the class leave, as well as the teacher.

"How'd you manage cheat this time?" Tsukishima asks, but even he knows it's a weak cover-up.

"Aw, that was almost a retort." You smile.

"Being around idiots lowers my brain cells." He rolls his eyes, trying to slide his exam into his backpack without you seeing the score.

Quickly, you snatch the paper from him, turning around so he can't grab it. Tsukishima lunges, reaching around you, caging you with his arms and pressing your hips against the side of the desk.

You try to relish in the fact that he got a 96, but you can't when he's pressed against you so closely you can feel his breath on your neck.

Caught by surprise, a small sound escapes from your lips, suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Tsukishima stops, unsure if he really just heard the small moan you made or if he was starting to confuse his daydreams with real life. But, one of his hands holding yours behind your back as the other grasped the paper on the desk in front of you was very, very real.

"Oh?" Tsukishima questions, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

When you don't make any efforts to move away, Tsukishima peers his head down by your ear, his lips grazing your skin as he whispers.

"Don't tell me you like this, y/n."

You snap back, pushing him off of you and turning around. You put your hands on his chest, shoving him back while keeping your fists tight around the material of his shirt.

His glasses are crooked slightly, and he stares at you with a hunger in his eyes. And then it hits you.

"Don't tell me you like it when I put you in your place, Tsukishima." Your hands reach higher, now gripping his collar.

You watch the blush creep up Tsukishima's neck, grinning. You're barely inches away, and he takes a step back in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs hit the front of a chair and you're climbing onto his lap before he's even fully sat down.

His hands fly to your waist instantly, steadying you on his thighs. You take his glasses off before trailing your fingers over the curve of his lips, leaning in slowly.

Your lips just graze his, but Tsukishima grasps the back of your head, greedily kissing you. You respond by kissing him back harder, parting your lips and pressing your body even further into him.

You don't miss how he lets out the smallest of whimpers at you grounding your hips against him, feeling him under you. You grin, grinding back and forth to pull more noises from him.

"I'm going to lose control if you keep doing that." Tsukishima admits, sounding short of breath.

"You haven't had an ounce of control since you walked into this classroom." You sneer, kissing down his jaw roughly. "You can stop pretending to fight me."

Tsukishima tilts his head back, hitting the wall softly as he started breathing deeply, feeling as though he could cum from your words alone. It was embarrassing the effect you had on him.

You reach a certain spot on his neck, causing Tsukishima to jerk his. hips up slightly as he sighs.

You wanted to toy with him for as long as you could, but you knew you had limited time. Hurriedly, you tugged at his belt, palming at his dick through his pants.

Tsukishima adjusted himself, unzipping his pants and trailing a hand up your thigh. You lifted your hips up, giving him room as you continued to leave hickies down his collar bone.

His hand was now under your skirt, delicately gripping your waist. The other was rubbing his tip, watching you eye his cock. Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side, sinking down on him.

You knew it was going to hurt with no prep and his size, but you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. You eased down on him, bitting your lip as you bottomed out. Tsukishima buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a moan.

You wrapped your fingers around his hair, tugging him back and forcing him to look at you. Your hand trailed to his throat, tightening slightly but not choking him.

"Be quiet." You whisper, looking at him sharply. Tsukishima's looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his mouth parted. He's on the verge of bliss and he's not hiding it anymore.

After sinking down fully, you crossed your arms, shifting your hips to get used to the feeling. He bucks his hips up, desperate for more.

"Pathetic." You say, moving your hips up and down slowly. His long fingers are digging into your hips, and his eyes are pleading with you.

"If you want something you're going to need to ask for it." You tease.

"Please," Tsukishima has lost all dignity, feeling so pussydrunk he thinks he'd kill to be inside you for a minute more. "need you to use me."

You grab his jaw, peppering kisses on his cheek as you speed your hips up, whispering encouragement in his ear.

Tsukishima let all control slip away from him as his orgasm built, holding you closer by the small of your back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you let him attempt to muffle his sounds in the crook of your neck.

He was trying his best to hold off his orgasm, but between your tits nearly bouncing out of your shirt and the degrading words slipping from your kiss-bitten mouth, he didn't last very long.

A few minutes later you were viciously riding out his orgasm, but pink in the face and suddenly hit with the realization of what you just did.

Panic hit you momentarily, until Tsukishima kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “I’m never going to win an argument against you ever again.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say. “Unless you want to end up like this again.”

“I wasn’t going to stop either way, but I appreciate the encouragement.”