#now it simply looks less worse lol

[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

[jflemings]

— loose lips sink ships pt4

pairing: jessie fleming x reader pt 1, pt2, pt3

synopsis: jessie’s lack of proper explanation has her pleading

warnings: so so angsty, language

a/n: lol

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

the tick of your eyebrow tells jessie that this isn’t going to be one of those times when you two talk it out.

“great!” you say clapping your hands “so do you mind telling me why you said that bullshit instead of behind honest with me about your two and a half year relationship?” your falsely cheery tone paired with the sarcastic smile across your face is unsettling for jessie. “and while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me what the problem with this photo is?” you say as you slide your phone across the counter. the photo that was on jordyn’s story stares back at jessie.

“y/n” the canadian starts “i really— it’s not—” she huffs and scrubs a hand over her face. “i was standing up before the photo and she moved over so i could sit down. there wasn’t much room so we had to squish together, and she stood up pretty much immediately after the photo was taken”

you nod once as you purse your lips “and the lying?”

“i didn’t mean to” jessie says, now leaning back “it just came out and i don’t know why i didn’t correct myself”

her reasoning makes you feel worse. you think you maybe would’ve preferred her purposely lie and stick to it, rather than stick to an accidental lie for almost four years. tears begin to well in your eyes as you watch jessie cast her gaze to the floor in front of her.

“so you kept up with an accidental lie for almost four years because… what? because you couldn’t tell me the truth afterwards? because you didn’t think it was anything? like, what was the reason, jessie”

“it’s not like i thought about it!” jessie stresses “it never came up again so i forgot about it”

“until you saw her again, right?” you spit at her, folding your arms over your chest.

your girlfriend stays silent and rolls her head on her neck. she continues to not say anything as she scuffs her shoes against the floor.

you can’t help but laugh at yourself. you feel stupid, so, so stupid. “it took you less than twenty four hours to, what?, second guess your four year long relationship? are you—”

“i’m not second guessing shit” she says, now looking at you “don’t even start with that”

“start with what jessie?” you raise your voice and push off the wall “start with the fact that there’s every chance that i’m just a rebound you got in too deep with? that we were seeing eachother and you weren’t over her?”

jessie pinches her eyebrows together “you weren’t a rebound! i wasn’t even looking to date when janine introduced us—”

“because you were still in love with her”

“jesus christ, will you let me finish?” jessie grits out.

“when you start telling me something that’s gonna make me believe that our whole relationship isn’t just because i was the first person shoved under your nose when you got to london” you sneer at her.

jessie deflates, her hands going lax by her sides “is that seriously what you think?” she asks quietly “that i only started dating you because you were there?”

“what am i supposed to think, jess? that it was a coincidence that we started dating just after you get out of an almost three year long relationship?” tears fall down your face at the thought of janine introducing the two of you so jessie could get over her ex. you turn your face away from her and sniffle.

“it was a coincidence” jessie stresses “i didn’t want to date anybody, and janine thought i needed friends outside of the club so she introduced us. that’s seriously it” she says as she approaches you carefully.

you look at her through tears “did seeing her again bring up old feelings?”

jessie hesitates and bites the inside of her cheek before looking away. you don’t try to get her to look at you, don’t try to get her to answer you quicker, you simply just wait. it’s only now that you get to fully take in what she looks like. her unbrushed bed head, her oversized ‘i heart aus’ t-shirt she wears to sleep, the way one sock is kind of flopping off her foot whilst the other is still on. the version of jessie in front of you is your normal, your safe space.

this version of jessie likes her eggs made a particular way and buries herself under the covers to avoid the sun when she wants to sleep in; she wakes you up with kisses all over you face and tells you corny jokes, and she doesn’t have the weight of a nation’s expectations on her shoulders. she’s carefree and so full of love that sometimes she doesn’t know what to do with it.

this jessie is the love of your life, and right now you feel like you’re watching her slip through your fingers.

when you watch silent tears fall down her face you know you’ve got your answer. you shut your eyes “right” you say coldly before turning around and heading for your shared bedroom.

jessie’s head snaps towards your retreating form “wait, y/n!”

“jessie i can’t” you say as you grab a bag out of your closet. you begin pulling clothes you know you’ll need: training, home and away kits, socks, underwear, pyjamas, a few shirts and jeans. you count them in your head and then stuff them in your bag just as jessie comes into the room.

“what are you doing!?” she half shouts as she closes the wardrobe “can you please let me explain before you take off?”

you don’t stop walking around your shared bedroom “i just gave you a chance to and you couldn’t look me in the eye” you spit at her, not turning around to look at her.

a fresh wave of tears fall down jessie’s face “i was trying to figure out what to say, y/n, please!”

she walks around the bed to you, putting her hand over yours when you open your bedside drawer to grab your watch. her hand is warm and soft wrapped around yours and you are filled with the overwhelming urge to give into her. you turn your head to face her.

“p-please” she stutters “i swear, i have an explanation for all of it” she whispers to you, trying to hold eye contact through teary eyes “please don’t leave”

you own lip trembles “i need to, for a few days at least” you whisper back to her, pulling your hand out from under hers “it’ll give you time to think about whatever it is you want to say”

“but i don’t need time, i—”

“i do” you interrupt “you have no idea what finding this out has done to me, jess. i just need to step back”

the canadian looks defeated as you move to your bathroom to pack up your toiletries bag. she’s rooted to her spot and find herself wondering how she got here when it was only yesterday morning the two of you were rolling around in bed giggling.

she harshly wipes her tears as you slip your shoes on. the sight of her makes you want to drop everything and wrap your arms around her, make sure she knows that you still love her, but you can’t. you can’t stand here and deny yourself time apart, even if it is just a day or two.

“i’m gonna go stay with sam” you sigh “i just— i really think we both need a little bit of time”

jessie helplessly nods “okay” she whispers as you pick up your bag “i love you”

you bite your lip and turn to her, the weight of the duffel bag in your hands suddenly getting a lot heavier “i love you too” you whisper back to her, hopefully not for the last time.

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Lucifer x Maladaptive Daydreamer, Sinner Reader

Not me self-projecting or anything 👀. Plus I love the whole "dreamer and broken dreamer" dynamic I can make with this, even if it isn't the same type of dreams. This is based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make it more generalized lol.

TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, mentions of depression and anxiety, escapism and dissociation, poor self-care from forgetting, fear of disappointment and disappointing others

• You probably met him at the Hazbin Hotel, to be honest. Normally, he wouldn't even look at a sinner. You're also not outwardly that different, either. The only thing that he might notice is that your eyes always look a bit distant, but he'd probably not question it. Why have a conversation with someone who is not present and in the moment?

• Charlie would have to introduce you, too. As said before, he wouldn't see the reason to talk to someone who doesn't seem to be paying attention. If Charlie wants him to talk to you, though, he'd do so. He wants a closer relationship with his daughter, and if simply introducing himself to you makes her happy, he would! Though, he is shocked to hear you are, according to her, an interesting person to talk to.

• So, he follows her over to you, all while she's saying "(Y/N), this is my dad, Lucifer! Dad, this is (Y/N), a guest at the hotel! They're a bit spacey, but they're trying their best... They're pretty unique, too! I'm sure you both will get along!"

• Once he gets a closer look at you... yes... you're very unique, to say the least. You look a little disheveled, but at the same time, like you're trying to look presentable. The look in your eyes also seems to flicker between paying attention and drifting off into your own head as he talks. When you respond, though, it sounds like you're at least retaining the basic information of the conversation.

• It takes a long time for him to actually become interested in spending time with you. Sure, you're an odd sinner, but still a sinner, and sinners are the worst in his opinion. However, he does visit the hotel every now and again to check in on Charlie in person. He's realized that calling her is not helping them get closer, even if he's still a bit confused as to why, so he's been visiting in person. Over time, he begins to notice odd things you do...

• You usually sit in the lobby, with a few other sinners, but don't talk to them often. Instead, you just sit there, making odd facial expressions every now and then. At first, he just assumed it was you reacting to the conversations the others were having, until he realized many of your expressions don't fit the topics. They'd be talking about exterminations, while you look calm, or about a pleasant event, with you looking sad or angry. Then, they'd be talking about fashion, and you'd look mortified. This sort of behavior interests Lucifer... You aren't like any other sinner he's seen. He, honestly, probably just assumes you're hallucinating or something. He'd rather ask Charlie, though.

• Unfortunately, she doesn't give away much about you. Something along the lines of "not wanting to talk to much about someone's personal problems without their consent", or whatever. He understands, but come on! He's her dad! A little gossip would be better than what he sees as a long silence between them. She does assure him, though, that you are not hallucinating. That, and she pushes him to interact with you, saying that his perception on sinners might change if he talks to some of the ones at the hotel.

• It's something that frustrates him... however, he pushes himself to do so. Anything for Charlie. Though, to him, it feels less like he wants his views to change and more like she's trying to to avoid talking to him. She never calls, after all... He still tries talking to you, though, and every time you seem extremely distant. That same flickering attention and that same disheveled look. Though, you definitely look worse than when Charlie called him to visit the first time, probably because you were caught on a regular day.

• You do make a few interesting statements, though. Mentions of days flying by fast, barely remembering parts of your life, a journal Charlie recommended you begin writing... Now you're getting interesting! Like a little mystery. He wants to figure you out.

• He'll try prying to get you to speak about yourself. What was your life as a human like? What were your sins, or biggest sin? Why do you look so... distant, all the time? Give him an answer! He'll take what he can get, and won't get upset.

• Daydreaming. That's the answer you give for looking distant. You don't really explain your answer, as if it should speak for itself. Though, you do mention that you're aware it's a "big problem", at this point. Dreaming... ugh... He doesn't even like the word, at this point, even if your type of dreaming isn't the same as his.

• You don't seem to want to tell him what you daydream about, outside of saying it's the types of things you can write a book about, instead of a simple self-fulfilling fantasy. You've got him hooked, now. This mystery has shifted gears. No longer is he as interested in you in general. Instead, your dreams are what he must know about. Which, granted, they probably will tell him a lot about you if they're so personal that you won't tell him.

• Whenever he spots you writing, he tries to sneakily look over your shoulder to read it. Usually, though, you spot him walking over before he can even try and close your journal. You do the same when anybody else walks by... except for Charlie. It honestly doesn't surprise him, since most everybody in the hotel seems to trust her, to some extent. He's just so frustrated. He wants to know more, but you won't say a thing, and Charlie won't, either!

• So, he decides to bite the bullet, and ask Charlie for help. Not the answers to his brewing questions, but instead about things you like. Interests the two of you might share with one another. Surprisingly, he learns that you and him share a lot more in common than he'd have expected a sinner to...

•He decides to try to talk to you about music, instead. What types of music do you like? Can you play an instrument? Do you have a favorite song, perhaps? The entire conversation is fascinating. Do you want him to play you a song, sometime? He'll be sure to bring an instrument the next time he visits.

• Once you do, eventually, listen to his music, he's absolutely entrance by the way you react to it. He's never really bothered to take notice of how you react listening to music before, assuming it's just like anyone else. He should've known that wasn't the case. Instead of a smile, or an attentive gaze, you're completely zoned out. Your expression is dull, which he'd normally be offended by, but he's quick to put it all together, now. That distant look isn't necessarily boredom or a disliking of the music... It's a dreamy look. You're daydreaming to his music. It only becomes more obvious once he changes the tones and your expression changes a bit, as if your daydream is changing alongside it. He's seen people dance, he's seen people sing, he's seen many types of reactions to music. However, to sit there and daydream is one he hasn't seen... At least, not so obviously and intensely.

• He doesn't want to embarrass you, so once he finishes playing his song, he won't mention it to you. He'll simply ask if you liked the song or not, then ask why. He'll slightly giggle, though, if you call it something along the lines of "inspiring" or "thought-provoking". A tiny little hint that he's slowly figuring out what is happening.

• Alongside your reactions to music, he does notice other things. Such as how sometimes, when he walks by your room in the hotel, he can hear the sounds of constant footsteps from behind the closed door. Sometimes he even hears tiny whispers, too, which sounds like your voice. Again, he doesn't say a word. If you're so secretive about such things, he won't pry... Which he, himself, is finding a tiny bit odd. He usually doesn't hold a sinner's privacy to such high regard, under the idea that he's King and needs to know what is happening... That, and his own anxieties making him feel the need to know as much as possible... But, for you, he's becoming a bit more aware of how odd that behavior can be when brought to a certain degree.

• So, he waits for you to tell him about it, yourself. And once you do, mentioning your little prancing, pacing, and your slight habit to act out your daydreams, he's ecstatic! For one, he's earned your trust enough for you to tell him such a thing. The other reason is that he has an idea! Why don't you try dressing up as the characters? It'd be an interesting way to engage in it. He's a musical man, he's probably heard of musicals, if not been in one! He could try getting you an outfit. If you don't want to, though, he's fine with it. It might be strange, after all...

• It takes a while, but soon, you both become close friends. Close enough that he's probably talked to you about feeling a bit lost and depressed, feeling very anxious for Charlie's well-being... In which case, he's probably a bit shocked to hear you relay the fact that, similarly, you are lost. Be it you feel depressed and or anxious, as well, or perhaps it's because you can't stop daydreaming. Either way, you let him know you feel similar, and he's shocked. He's always kind of assumed you daydreaming would help you escape from those types of feelings, not contribute to or possibly cause them.

• He listens more to your concerns and worries... and he relates more than he'd like to admit, in certain situations. Dissociation? You both kind of do it, in your own ways. Your daydreaming, you mentioned, might be that. You've never gotten checked, though, because therapists in Hell aren't the best. He knows all too well that he dissociates, from time to time, because Lilith pointed it out to him shortly before she left to do... whatever she's doing. You both forget to take care of yourselves, in your own ways. You daydreaming for so long, causing time to fly, and eventually forgetting whatever you forget... And him working on his rubber ducks to cope, focusing too much, and forgetting to do whatever it is he needed to do.

• He does get worried for you, and you probably get worried for him, as well. However, while he's not so sure about you, he's taking his worries for you and his daughter to try to better himself... Though, with you and him sharing things in common, he sees you as being a big reason to specifically better his mental health while Charlie is his reason to try to be a better father. How can he provide any sort of help to you when he's suffering, himself? Any advice would either, in his opinion, be bad, or be good but seem bad from the hypocrisy of him not following his own advice. So, he's got to help himself, yeah? He can do it all on his own, too! Watch him! He's not going to burden anybody else!

• Yeah, no. He's failed. Now, he feels worse. Luckily, though, you're there for him to go to! He would go to Charlie... But, he doesn't want to burden her with it. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to talk to you, either, but you can at least relate to him a bit. That, and he knows that keeping it all in is a part of what's made him feel horrible. So, again, you have your talks about life together... You mention your problems and he mentions his. You give him advice. Pretty good advice, actually. He gives you small tips on a few things to make life easier. Then, as always, the conversation shifts to happier topics. What made you happy, recently? Did you have any nice food today? Stuff like that.

• Though, one day, you seem to be thinking about something. You look from him, to nothing, then back to him almost on a loop. He simply assumes it's one of your daydreams, and instead speaks about whatever comes to his mind, being patient with you. From how his relationship with his daughter and her girlfriend is going along, how his rubber duck creation is going, to what he thinks of a few of the other guests at the hotel. However, he is a bit shocked when you begin speaking, very suddenly.

• You start talking about a seemingly random daydream you had, recently. Beautiful music, nice outfits, fun dances... You describe a scene of you dancing with someone on a glorious night. However, you don't say who it is you're dancing with. You just describe a beautiful scenario, which is about you dancing with someone. When he asks who it is, after you finish talking, you kind of just stare at him awkwardly.

• It takes him a few moments, then once it hits him, he begins to laugh hysterically in disbelief. No. You couldn't possibly be implying it was him! Once you outright say it, and add that you love him as more than a friend, though, he's both ecstatic and terrified. He feels the same way, yes, but he knows he has his own set of problems he'd be adding into your life if he got with you... And then you start talking about how you are worried you'd make him feel bad, as you know that your daydreams can hype up future events, like dates and such, to an unachievable expectation... then everything is disappointing, despite it being perfectly fine.

• He, however, wants to change that... or, at least your outlook on it. He will happily hold out his hand and admit that he feels the same. He feels the same love for you, the same worries for the future, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying. Just because something wasn't to your expectations, doesn't make it bad, yeah? Once you realize that you still had fun, you'll learn to still enjoy your life, even if it'll never live up to your daydreams.

• That's how you two began dating. You're both used to helping each other through rough times, and comforting each other, so there wasn't really a big adjustment period of having to learn to do so. Instead, the first few months were spent on sweet dates, as well as helping you with your daydreams causing expectations that can't be met. As each date goes by, he asks if you had fun, even if it wasn't all you dreamed up to be. As you realize how often you say "yes", you begin to feel much more confident that everything will be fine and doesn't need to be perfect.

• He's gotten into a little habit of planning a secret date or surprise every once in a while. That way, you don't have the chance to build up such high expectations of what it'd be like. You'll come home to see that he's made the most delicious looking dinner buffet, and spread it out over his dining table. Or, you'll come home, and he'll say that he wants to take you out to go dancing somewhere. Small little surprises.

• He's going to make a rubber duckling based on you. Or two. Or three... Or twelve dozen. He can think of so many designs based on your lovely stories. He knows that he shouldn't feed into the habit, and he's actively doing his best not to, but he wants to show you that you can create beautiful artwork with your daydreams. Music, paintings, books, plays... If you find that you can't daydream less, you can try to at least transform them into a real, tangible thing that others can see or hear. His duckies are just an example of that.

• He sometimes wishes he could create something that catches your attention more than your daydreams, but he can also understand that you may not have complete control of it. So, instead, he'll try to gently get your attention if he needs you, just wants your attention, or wants to remind you of something you need to do. Be it a little tap on your shoulder, him calling your name, or walking into your field of view and doing something silly.

• He's sure to check in on you daily, asking if you've been making sure to take care of yourself. Did you eat today? Did you take a shower? Did you drink a glass of water? You gotta stay hydrated! In return, whenever you can, you do the same for him. You both take care of each other as best you can.

• If you're one of those daydreamers who has trouble falling asleep because your brain won't turn off, he'll do whatever he can to at least help you relax. He'll cuddle you, try humming a little soft tune, or get you something to drink to help you relax a little.

• Sometimes, although he'd never admit it, he's a little jealous of your daydreaming. Yes, he's aware the grass is always greener on the other side, and that's why he wouldn't say it. He knows you'll chew him out and reminding him of the issues it's caused you. He can see them, so you don't really have to remind him. He's just... missed the feeling of having such an imaginative mind. Sure, he still has had one. Ever since he was dropped into Hell, it's been a bit harder to do so... then, once Lilith left, it has gotten worse. He's been a bit too depressed to dream...

• Though, he knows that you can dream enough for the both of you, and that you'll happily share ones you think will cheer him up. He loves you for how much you've reminded him of the importance of dreaming... Just, in moderation. He'll be there to ground you, whenever you need it.

[lasciviouspoison]

my first full length smut fic! this shit took weeks to edit ngl, but it was worth it. with that being said, there are probably still some mistakes so excuse those, lol. tw: breeding, eren calls himself “daddy”, word “mommy” is used, reader and eren are extremely (heavy emphasis on extremely) frustrated. not a tw, but like i always say, this is for my chubby black women, but all are free to read <3

eren has loved you for an extremely long time. he’s spoiled u, fed u, he’s even dressed you head to toe while you were sick.

yet, all of this spoiling and caring for u, does not warrant your brattiness right now.

he’s been studying tirelessly for his midterm for about 2 weeks now, finally on his last day of review before his test in a couple of days. yet, he can’t seem to focus because you keep coming in and out of your shared study every three seconds.

“‘ren, where are the extra washcloths?”

he looks up from his textbook, glasses falling off his nose a bit. you’re even dressed like a brat, skimpy little white tank top and baby pink panties. it makes his head hurt worse than the passage he’s read over 4 times now.

“there’s no way you’re asking me where fucking washcloths are right now. there’s no way.” he says with some bite to his voice. he just needs to finish these last two pages and the longer it takes him, the more it kills him.

your arms cross over your chest, pushing your bra-less chest up and exposing a bit of your chubby stomach. “does it look like i’m joking with you? where are they?”

he clenches his jaw and in a very clipped tone, he responds that they’re under the sink. you scoff slightly and walk out, making an effort to slam the door a bit harder than necessary.

he sits back in his chair and throws off his glasses, big tattooed hands wiping his face. eren knows he’s been neglecting you, and it’s killing him just as much as you. he’s tired of coming home from class too tired to touch you. he’s tired of you having to tell him to go lay down after his head rocked one too many times over his dinner plate.

he’s tired, but he’s not gonna let you act like a bitch just to get what you want. simply because it’s fucking working.

he pushes up from his desk and walks out of the study. he hears the bathroom cabinets opening, so he does everything but sprint to get there.

you peer over your shoulder at him and roll your eyes, “they weren’t under the sink. in fact, they’re all dirty cause, you know, you act like you can’t help with laundry anymore-“

erens grabbed you by the nape of your neck and brought your body close to his. you can hear his semi-heavy breathing despite still being bent over, which caused your heart to race a little. although you knew eren would never hurt you, it doesn’t mean that his pent up energy won’t go to waste.

“a couple things: one, don’t talk to me like i’m a fucking child. two, i do still help with laundry, there’s a whole basket full of folded shirts sitting on the bedroom floor that i didn’t get the chance to put away. and finally, you that cock hungry, or are you genuinely mad at me?” he finishes with a finger running up your spine, back arching at the feeling. he knows this rills you up, which is perfect for him. you don’t get to frustrate him and remain unscathed.

your eyes widened a bit, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop eren’s hand from moving. you could feel just how hard he was and it made you think that he almost had it worse than you. however, that doesn’t mean your just gonna lay here and take it.

“get the fuck off me eren” you said through tight lips. his hands now steadily making their way under your top, with you making no advances to stop him.

he bent down towards your ear as his body almost covers yours entirely, with his fingers now gently pulling at your nipples.. “you know what’s funny? you can act mad at me all you want, but this pretty pussy is never ever mad at me. maybe i should gag you and let her do the talking, at least she’s not a fucking liar” at this point, eren’s hands feel like hot coals against your body. while they slowly make their descent back down your body, you can feel your resolve slowly melting away under his touch.

before you could reply, his fingers begin to softly move along your covered slit, causing your breath to hitch. you push your hips back a little and eren gives you a breathless laugh in return.

“i know i’ve neglected you pretty baby. daddy’s really sorry, just let me make it up to you. i promise, you can have me all night if you just tell me what you really want”. sometimes, you swore that you could hear the smirk on eren’s lips.

you shook your head no and felt a soft slap to your pussy. you wanted to scream at him and tell him just how badly you missed him, but your mouth refused to open. you bit your lip once he began touching you again, attempting to coax a confession from your pretty lips.

you felt him bend over once again, this time to place small kisses behind your ear, kisses that started to travel down your neck and onto your back. the entirety of his ministrations were torture, but it was when he stopped kissing you and replaced his lips with his tongue to lick a stripe up your back that you really wanted to cave.

eren’s middle finger finally found your bare clit, the initial contact causing you to jump hard against his body. small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to maneuver on his fingers before he stilled your movements.

“m’not doin anything more till you tell me the truth. what do you want from me baby? tell me and i’ll give it you ya”.

you try to grind against his fingers once again before a hard smack to your ass forces you to stop. his grip on your hips tightening, letting u know that he’s really gonna deprive you until you speak.

“want you to touch me ren! wan’ you to fuck me so fucking bad!” you finally scream out.

every gives you a small chuckle before his middle and index finger burry themselves into your cunt. his body almost shakes at warmth you provide. blood rushing straight to his dick, making him indescribably hard.

“that’s it baby, that’s all i wanted to hear.” he sounds breathless, almost like he’s the one that’s been getting teased.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, a small squelching sound coming from your sopping pussy. your grip on the cold marble counter top has your knuckles turning white. at this point, you’re so desperate for more that your meeting his fingers half way.

with tears threatening to run down your chubby cheeks, you make pleas for more. “ren please, please gimme more. i’ll be good i promise!”

he feels so bad. you’ve never acted like this, even when the two of you were still forced to live separately on campus. the desperation in your voice is surprising him just as much as it’s surprising you.

because he knows you like it when he fucks you with his hair down, he pulls his hair from his already loosening bun and all but rips his sweats off. dick hitting his bare stomach with a heavy thud.

he takes his fingers out of you and rips those pretty pink panties off, he makes a mental note to buy you another pair.

he rubs himself between your sticky folds till his cock is shiny, hitting your clit a couple of times in the process, drawing more whines from you. all he can do is look down in awe. it’s amazing to him just how wet you get from just a couple of fingers, but who can blame u? his dick’s been throbbing for four days straight.

he finally anchors himself and spits, emitting a soft puh before he smiles. you’re such a mess underneath him and he can’t wait to make it even worse. he finally starts to push in, but your tight little cunny won’t let him in no matter how gentle he tries to be.

“lemme in baby… please lemme in” his voice is so strained it’s making u gush even more.

“i’m tryin!” you say with a pout, tears running down your face.

eren knows you’ve always been big on eye contact when the two of you fuck, it’s almost necessary… so, he hooks his fingers into the side of your mouth and forces your head to lift. finally you were able to see that tattooed chest and pretty face, and he was able to see those pretty eyes and beautiful tear stained face.

almost immediately do you loosen up and he accidentally on purpose pushes all the way in, causing the both of you to moan loudly.

“there you go baby, take it for me ya spoiled fuckin brat”. his hands have found purchase on the fatness of your hips, his grip so tight that you think he’ll bruise you. not that you’ve ever cared.

“fuckfuckfuck” is all you can say as you watch his facial expressions through the mirror. his hair is down and there’s tiny beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. he’s gone slack jawed while stroking you, a relaxed expression gracing his pretty face. no matter how many times he’s buried himself in your warm walls, he’s never gotten used to how good u feel. once his green eyes make contact with yours and that smirk graces his face, it makes u realize just how in control he is no matter how gentle he may look.

“squeezin’ me so tight baby.. u miss me that much?” he says with a breathless laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm. the both of you know that going this long without touch was both odd and frustrating. it caused the both of you to miss each other equally, hence why this could be categorized as some of the best sex you’ve ever had.

at this point, he knows you’re gonna cum soon, he can feel your walls pulsing and eren feels like his dick is gonna pop.

“g’nna cum rennie, g’nna make a mess on yo- ugh fuck!” your little hands balling into fists as he hits that spongey spot in you. you can hear just how hard he’s thrusting into you, each stroke sounding more sticky than the last. it’s making your eyes cross and toes curl.

your convinced he’s gonna kill you with that horse dick of his one day.

“let it out baby, i’ll clean it up the mess, wanna feel you cum on me.” even he’s getting whiny now, so it’s only a matter of time before you-

“-ohmygod eren!” you cum so hard that your body’s shaking and your knees are buckling. thankfully, eren’s always there to catch you.

despite chasing his own nut, he desperately wants to see you ride out your orgasm. he’s so desperate that he’s picking you up by your hips, forcing you to do small circles against his waist cause he knows it drives you crazy.

however, it doesn’t take long before he’s digging deep into you again, the force of his thrusts causing your head to bounce a little harder than intended.

“god i’m gonna cum so hard in this pretty pussy. i’m so fucking sorry i neglected you baby.. never again, god i’ll never do it again baby i promise. gonna fill you up okay? awe, you like the sound of that yeah? make you the prettiest mommy for me. promise i’ll take care of you forever. god i love you”. he’s rambling and his voice is getting rough. it’s only a matter of time before he cums.

after finding some strength, you finally look back and smile at him and that’s all it takes for eren to cum. his face screws up and his warm hands slide up your back to make you arch a little deeper. you wish you could run your fingers through his hair so badly, but you couldn’t ask for a better view of your beautiful boyfriend.

after a few moments of silence, eren finally comes down from his high with a big huff of air. gently, he spins you around so you face him. he moves your curls from out of your eyes and gives you a slow kiss on the lips, hands resting gently on your chubby, tear stained cheeks.

after a few moments of silence, he starts to speak, “i meant what i said. i’m sorry i left you alone for so long baby. i just gotta pass this test.” his eyes full of remorse.

“i know eren, i just wanted some attention… it’s really easy to miss you, even if we live together”. small smiles find both of your faces and eren finally pulls out to run the two of you a warm bath.

he strips you out of your tank top and carries you over to the tub, where he holds you tightly.

after some comfortable silence, you can’t help but look over your shoulder and ask the question that’s been plaguing your mind, “you really wanna get me pregnant?”

he looks towards the ceiling and let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “i mean, eventually yes. right now? fuck no”

the two of you fell into laughter while the smell of lavender filled your noses and achy bones were finally allowed to rest.

[misc-obeyme]

cc. your tags on the boudoir post. MAMMON recieving an album of those photos. i'd love to hear your thoughts on his reaction (and everyone else's, if you're feeling particularly inspired?)

Ah, Daisy, my dear, thank you for asking!

I apologize for this late response, but I knew I was gonna be getting wordy with this one. Because I looove the boudoir photos idea in general and OH MAN just thinking about all their reactions is making me crazy lol. I was going to just do my regular sort of response, but this turned into full on headcanons oops.

So just in case anyone missed it, here is the original post!

My thoughts change a little bit depending on whether MC is present when the characters receive the pictures, so I included both! I only did the bros but I might be willing to do the rest upon request!

the brothers react to MC giving them an album of boudoir photos

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: suggestive but that's about it, nothing explicit

Lucifer

When you're with him, Lucifer is calm and courteous, but with a flare of arrogance. Of course you would give him such a special gift. It's only natural that you would trust such intimacies to him.

He asks you if you're trying to tell him something. Has he perhaps been neglecting you, MC? Did you give him this so that he wouldn't be able to help himself? He's onto you.

No matter your reason, he can't look through too many of the pictures before wanting the real thing that's sitting right next to him. Tell him you still have some of that lingerie in your possession. Especially if you happen to have some in his colors.

If you aren't with him, he's going to be a lot less arrogant in general. He will find you later, make no mistake. But he's honestly so touched by your gift that he spends a lot of time looking through the album, simply admiring you.

Mammon

Mammon is freaking out no matter where you are the time. If you're with him, it's definitely a lot worse. Blushing profusely. Opens the album then slams it shut because he can't handle looking at it for very long.

You can't help but giggle at his reaction and then it's all stop laughin' at him MC!! You'll need to take his hands or maybe kiss his cheek, let him know that you genuinely just wanted to give him a nice gift, you aren't trying to tease him or anything.

Ask him if he likes it. You'll get a serious response. Calms down enough to say 'course he likes it. Likes it so much, he suddenly can't keep his hands off you.

If you aren't with him at the time, he buries it under his pillow or otherwise hides it because this is now one of his treasures and nobody gets to see it but him!

Leviathan

Levi is another one who'd be a blushing mess no matter what, but if you're there at the time, he might retreat to his room and not let you in. He needs that barrier between you because if he sees you right now, his heart will explode.

He'll let you back in eventually, but it might be a minute. He needs to calm down. Are you trying to kill him, MC?! Even when he does let you in, he can't look at you directly. He's probably covering his face with his hands.

Reassure him that you gave these photos to him because you trust him with them. They're personal, intimate, and you want him to be close to you. He's going to calm down the more you talk to him. Pull his hands away from his face and when he sees the sincerity in your eyes, it flips a switch. Might even slip into demon form just to wrap his tail around you possessively.

If you're not with him at the time, he's going to need to take care of that raging boner of his right away. He won't be able to focus on anything else until he does. He's so embarrassed, he has to watch several episodes of Ruri Hana to recalibrate.

Satan

He will try to keep his expression unreadable. He's not having any over the top reactions, but as he flips through the photos, he keeps getting redder and redder. You're sitting right next to him, how can he not react? At some point, he has to close the album because he feels like he's looking at something he shouldn't.

Satan is quiet about how flustered he is, but he's having a hard time looking at you. He tries to say something and incomprehensible lines about how beautiful you are fall from his lips. He sounds like a broken record of spoken word poetry or perhaps a very drunk beat poet.

Recovers himself after a minute. As soon as he's composed, you're in his arms. You knew what this would do to him, didn't you, MC? You'll find yourself pressed up against the nearest wall in moments.

If you're not with him, Satan will tuck your album into a stack of his other books. He thinks it's well hidden there - in plain sight. But he's hyper aware of it. Keeps coming back to look at it. Ends up having to put it on the bottom of a stack behind a different stack to make it more difficult to get to.

Asmodeus

Thrilled. Absolutely thrilled in every way. Oh, wow, MC, you look amazing. He's breathless. He's entranced. He's even blushing because he knows what it means that you've given these to him. He's so in love with you, he can't stand it.

Asks you about everything you may be wearing. Comments on the skill of the photographer. Tells you that next time, you should do one together. He has so many ideas. He wants to do one where all you're wearing is jewelry - bright and sparkling, just like your soul.

Covers you in kisses. He's not shy about how this is making him feel, how much he wants you. He just wants to see your beautiful figure here and now in real life, MC! Won't you let him worship you?

If you're not with him, he will find you immediately so he can say all of the things he needs to say in that moment. You can't leave him alone with all these feelings, both physical and emotional. He brings them all to you without hesitating.

Beelzebub

It might take him a minute to understand exactly what he's looking at, mostly because he's never even heard of this. He doesn't know what a boudoir photo shoot is, so you might have to explain it to him. Once he understands, he starts lightly blushing as he looks through them. His expression is serious because he's beginning to see just how special this is.

Honestly surprised that you would give him something so intimate. He's touched. He's going to hug it to himself and look at you with tears in his eyes because he can't believe how lucky he is.

Give him another couple minutes to look through them and then he's having different feelings. He's not sure if he can hold back, MC. Tell him it's okay, that you don't want him to, and you'll find yourself on your back on his bed in zero seconds flat. You're quickly reminded why he's the Avatar of Gluttony.

If you're not with him at the time, he will figure things out on his own, though he'll have a plethora of questions for you later. He keeps it close to him at all times until you answer them because he knows one thing for sure - he doesn't want anyone else seeing these.

Belphegor

Oh, he sees what you're playing at. Trying to fluster him, are you, MC? Trying to rile him up? Are you sure you can handle him when you do that? He's so wound up by the gift he can't act normal about it. He's actually very touched by it, but he's not sure how to deal with the feelings, so he comes on too strong.

You laugh because to you, this is expected. You understand that this is Belphie's way of dealing with his own shyness. You respond by meeting him with just as much intensity. It's all kisses and touching and fumbling in the dark.

It's only later, when both of you are calm, when you're nestled in his arms, that he admits to you how much it means to him. That he tells you how he'll cherish the album you gave him. That he says he's stunned by how gorgeous you are, even more brilliant that the stars in the sky.

If you aren't with him at the time, you'll be dealing with a petulant but horny demon later on. He's going to be annoyed at you for leaving it for him and then not being there when it inevitably turns him on. Just as possessive as his brothers, he hides it in the attic where no one is likely to find it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[sinning-23]

Twice the Fun (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

Because i need them both in a way that is concern to feminism and they could literally do whatever they wanted to me (respectfully) ahem. This ones for my sick, freak, nasty, touch-starved bitches It's really just prn with A LITTLE plot yall and a little more attention to detail.

18+ DUH?!

Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, choking, biting, scratching, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, spanking, double penetration (holy shit this is a lot even for me lol)

Hope yall enjoy (smut is a bit of a specialty of mine)

PART 2 HERE

Ps. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY SPELLING ERRORS!

What were you truly meant to do? Turn down the pair to try and make yourself look like less of a slut than you really were? Well, slut was kind of harsh. We'll say, more sexually inclined.

Yeah, that sounds classier.

Anyway, when Sanji and Zoro approached you in a more physical than verbal way, you couldn't decide whether or not you should say no to try and keep up an image they already saw past, or simply let them Eiffel Tower you. How the hell did you end up in this predicament in the first place???

___3 days ago___

You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you nudge the man beside you. You didn't quite care if he woke up or not, you'd just go to your other 'friends' room to fulfill your insatiable need for dick...and love and affection...but of course, Sanji didn't know that...and neither did Zoro and hell you'd like to keep it that way.

Perfectly balanced...sorta. Part of you feels bad though, you do love him...and Zoro too but damn it you just had to have them both. And with the way that two bicker and act like they can't stand each other, there was a fat chance you'd get your wish.

You nudge Sanji again, pressing soft kisses to his temple, and brushing his hair out of his face. He stirs, eyes slightly opening to reveal a set of lovely blues.

"Good morning. Pussy put you to sleep?" You tease, seeing him smile in recollection of the events of the night prior.

"Its not nice to tease." He groans, sitting up on his elbows and forearms to kiss your lips.

Its sweet, your heart stuttering with guilt. You know he loves you but this whole thing was supposed to be no strings attached. You pull away, noticing a brief hurt behind those eyes you just stared so lustfully into hours ago.

"Hurry up, youve got breakfast to make and I'm pretty sure someones getting a bit suspicious. You chuckle, pointing to the alarm clock.

He swears, shuffling a bit faster to find his briefs, dress pants, and shirt in a hurry. He doesnt forget to kis your temple before he leaves though.

"Come to my room again tonight, yeah?" He asks, and you nod. How could you not?

When you're sure he's long gone, you hide your face in your palms, groaning deeply before gazing into the mirror. Shit...he marked you up worse than before. You roll your eyes, that funny butterfly feeling filling up your stomach again. Damn him for making you love him. This wasn't the first time you'd have to cover up hickeys and it wouldn't be the last.

Your shoes echo down the hall a bit as you pass zoro's room now, curiosity getting the best of you. You crack the door open and there he is, pulling on that same old tan shirt over that damn gorgeous body.

"Good morning." You hum, slipping in and closing the door behind you.

He doesn't respond back, only nods in your direction. Zoro was more...blunt with these things. He thought he'd almost gotten perfect at hiding how he was feeling from you, but you had already clawed your way up and over the walls he put up. Essentially you could see right through him.

Before he can protest about you not knocking, you've got your arms around him in a hug, one he definitely needed seeing as he missed your touch far more than he would admit out loud. In his head, you were his girl. All his. He knew it wasn't true, this...whatever this was, being nothing more than a beneficial friendship. You weren't really his and it tore him up inside. He knows he loves you, but damn it if he admits it.

"Missed me? I see that look in your eyes Roro." You tease, knowing the nick name bothers him in th best way.

"I wish you would quit calling me that." He responds, letting his arms wrap around you to return the embrace, his chin resting atop your head. He needed you bad.

"Coming here tonight? Or do I have to drag you from your quarters to mine?" He smirks, making you laugh and bury your face in his chest. Gods he loved your laugh.

"How could I not?" You respond, swallowing a bit hard, knowing you were wrong for that.

Double booking a dick appointment was a big NO-NO. This leaves too much opportunity for one to find out about the other. But in hindsight, would that really be so bad? You wanted and loved them both, and being sneaky was starting to weigh on your conscience despite not being in an actual relationship with either of them.

"You alright?" He asks, cupping your face with his free hand. You drank up moments like these, it was truly a privilege to see the softer side of Zoro.

You nod, kissing him quick before making your leave.

The rest of the crew is already up and working on odds and ins of the ship. You managed your end of the chores, first mopping, then tying knots, and lastly laundry. You chatted with Nami, hoping a village is coming up soon but no luck.

Damn, the day had really gotten away from you. The sun was already setting and your heart sank to the pit of your goddamn stomach. It's sunset...which means night is right around the corner...

Oh fuck.

You scramble off the front deck and head straight to your quarters, skillfully dodging both Sanji and Zoro, who you had managed to have run into each other instead of you. Bad idea, because if you knew anything about Sanji, it's that he had a funny way of letting things slip rather sneakily. And if you knew anything about Zoro, its that he would easily catch a slick comment, and match it.

You lock your door, pacing back and forth in hopes of coming up with a plan. The truth? Yeah maybe tell the truth! You swallow your pride, taking a deep breath, only to head a kock at your door. Oh god. Your hands tremble, that sickly nervous feeling seeping into your pores. Its hot in here.

"Hey honey, um, how about we reschedule to tomorrow?" Sanji hums, something...off in his tone.

You pull the door open, that same facade over your face. You swallow, nodding at him in response.

"I see. I mean yeah we can. Something come up?" You ask, eyes shifting all over. You can bring yourself to keep direct contact with him and damn he can tell. You could've sworn that you saw someone turn the corner...was that Zoro. Nevermind that. Apparently, Sanji had said something to you but you hadn't heard it you were panicking so damn much.

"Uhh sure. You okay?" He questions, more smug than anything. He knows...

__2 days ago___

It was far too quiet for your liking. Sanji seemed to avoid you...and so did Zoro. Well, not really avoid you. In all honestly you were paranoid and reading into everything. You had FABULOUS intuition so when the energy was out of wack it went straight to your head.

They know. They have to. There's no way they don't. The two of them had gotten a lot bolder you noticed. It was all so clear to you. They were...competing almost. Zoro would leave his hand on your hip, and Sanji would roll his eyes. Sanji would pull your hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face when you were cleaning? Zoro would scoff and move on.

Okay, so they definitely knew. Now they were playing the "She likes me more game." That was the least of your concerns. If anything you were drinking up the attention. What you really wanted to know, was how they had found out about each other...the ship is small so that doesn't help the situation.

Today, you managed to find yourself in the kitchen while both your blonde and green-headed sneaky links were ALSO in the vicinity. You swallow hard, bidding them a good day whilst making your way to the fridge, which Sanji usually keeps locked up otherwise Luffy would get in it.

"Sanji, um, the key please." You ask, clearing your throat as the two seemed to watch your every move.

He smiles, stepping beside you, his hand trailing from your waist to the curve of your ass. He's grinning the whole time, his eyes cutting to Zoro before squatting down, using your leg as a means to steady himself to retrieve the well-hidden, key. His fingers dance over your thighs and inwards, just barely brushing over the crotch of your shorts. You yelp, tensing when Zoro gives a slight 'tch'

Sanji stands, plopping the piece of metal in your hand before returning to the stove from whence he came.

"Thanks." You rasp, fianlly feeling a pinh at ease before oepenign the fridge.

Too bad the peace only lasted for two seconds, becuse right when you had cracked it open, Zoro was already behind you, reaching for his desnated bottle of alcohol, his hand right at your waist, just where Sanji's had been.

Instead of squatting however, down to more or less 'politely' show ownership of you, Zoro opts to wind his hand back as far as possible.

SMACK

You yelp louder, steadying yourself agaisn the fridge as you moan at the sting. There was no doubt there was a bit of a mark again toyu melenated skin now. Zoro only grins, all too smug at Sanji's enraged expression.

"Thats it. You just have no sense of respect do you." Sanji argues, Zoro standing a bit taller now.

If you hadn't been squeezed between the two now, they'd surely be chest to chest. Your body is beginning to betray you, heat flooding your face and between your thighs. This wasn't about them. This was about you and who you liked more...They each wanted your attention. Rightfully so, I mean not only were you a sweetheart with a smart mouth but that mouth could do a lot more than just talk shit. And either one of them would be happy to accept death between your thighs.

"If you knew anythign at all, youd kne she likes a little desrespect." Zoro shoots back, your eyes widening.

"If you knew anything you'd know she likes being treated like a princess." Sanji scoffs.

"Lets not talk about me like im not here-"

You're cut off when they shoot that same look your way. A look you'd seen one to many times, bent over, facing a conveniently placed mirror...or wit your back against the matress, one of them over you while your legs cramp up from being so close to your chest.

Damn fr two guys who seemingly didn't 'get alog' they sure had a lot in common.

In the heat fo the argument, you slide pst the pair and out of the kitchen. Unfortunetly for you, a head of orage just happened to be outside and heard part of the last three statements.

"I dont even want to knw what or how you're gonna get out of this. Youll figure it out." Nami half encourages as you groan.

Is that what good pussy did to a mf? Start wars?! It blew your mind but you had less than a few seconds process to the situation. Before you could even realize what was happening, Zoro exited the kitchen and scope you up. And right behim him was a very serious, looking Sanji....

oh you’re so screwed.

——————————————

Authors note: HI YALLL ok so this one’s been sitting in the drafts for literally I wanna say a half a year now lmao uhhhhh let me know if you’d like to be tagged for pt.2 that’s where all the HOT SHIT HAPPENS! Anyway love you all! Drink water lol

[punkeccentricenigma]

Rise!Boys accidentally confess their love to Reader.

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Slight angst for Raph's part, Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: Just enjoy lol.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

Leonardo

◇ Ever since Leo realized his feelings, his casual demeanor towards [Y.N] had turned into almost aggressively flirting.

◇ Despite not wanting to rush into confessing his feelings, he was practically a simp for that person..

◇ But he also teased them often, of course, not on a seriously offensive level. Just light pokes and prods.

◇ I'm sure he bragged to anyone about his not-yet relationship with [Y.N].

"Oh, and I recently won a unicorn plushie for them, and they were really delighted! WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER!"

"Pepino, get the hell out of here."

◇ Just as Donatello had enough of his (non-)twin, he now wanted to dig a hole to hell and throw him in there to finally get some rest.

◇ Anyway, the accidental confession happened one night when neither he nor [Y.N] could sleep.

◇ They were sending each other various memes through Discord in bulk. This boosted his confidence even more, leading to him typing 'I love you.'

◇ Of course, he hadn't sent it yet; his mind was suddenly filled with not-so-good thoughts. What if they don't feel the same? What if they laugh at him?? Or something worse?!

◇ Despite his persona, the boy was full of insecurities, from his looks to his personality, but with them... he felt good about himself.

◇ But would such a confession be too simple? The boy decided to wait at least one day before confessing his love.

◇ But fate said 'nuh-uh,' and his phone fell on Leo's face, causing panic. Due to his carelessness, he held the device wrong, resulting in the accidental sending of the ill-fated message.

"No, no, no, NO!" His voice trembled as he tried to delete the message immediately. Unfortunately, the app froze to his disadvantage. "Damn it!"

◇ When he managed to reopen the app, there was a new message.

◇ "... You are not joking, right?"

◇ This night would last even longer than a turtle had anticipated.

Raphael

◇ I think it happened during the attack on their home by Shredder. Absolute chaos, a storm of emotions, the perfect situation for an imperfect love confession.

◇ "Raph, have you lost your mind?!" [Y.N] began, full of outrage. "Why didn't you let me stay? Splinter and Draxum need help!"

The turtle furrowed his brow bones, looking down at the shorter person with regret. "It was the only way, I'm sure they'll handle it."

"And what if they don't? What if they needed our help right now?"

◇ No matter how advanced [Y.N]'s combat skills were, Raphael was even more opposed to the idea.

◇ "Nothing will happen to them!" Raphael raised his voice, as if trying to convince not only the teenager but himself. "And stop arguing with me; I'm the leader here, and I make the decisions!"

"Damn it, I don't understand you! I could handle it, and you would have more time to plan; I'm not needed here!!"

◇ Just a reminder, everyone present was watching this argument.

◇ "Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"You are! I don't want to lose you like Gram Gram; I love you too much!" His angry red face suddenly turned shocked. Oh, oh. Did he really just say that??

◇ His dark eyes met the teenage counterpart's. Their whole face was red, and their determination to sacrifice themself slowly faded from their eyes.

"... Fine," [Y.N] muttered and sat down in the seat next to Michelangelo.

◇ When all this chaos is over, they'll have to talk, this time more calmly.

Donatello

◇ Donnie has a need to be as organized as possible, so before suggesting anything, he has to plan everything out and make sure that any confession of feelings will go perfectly.

◇ Of course, he had a large folder with potential scenarios that could happen before and after the confession. It had a bit of a vibe from his previous reincarnation, but much less scary and obsessive - he simply felt strong discomfort without preparation.

◇ Leo likes to tease him about it, by the way.

◇ Anyway, there was one situation the boy didn't anticipate. One night, he had been working on another invention all night, aimed at stealing another battery from the Purple Dragons, and in the morning, he fell asleep at his desk, or rather, he was half-unconscious.

◇ "Dee, come to bed." Raphael's voice echoed through the lab, gently shaking the sleepy Soft-shell's naked shoulder. In response, he got some sluggish syllables and a hiss. "You can't sit here like this; it's not healthy." "And sitting here all night is unhealthy enough," he added quietly.

"Get lost..." That's all the turtle understood. Raph rolled his eyes and moved away from his brother a bit.

"I'm not going to struggle; I'm sleep-deprived myself," the red-loving enthusiast said, picking up his phone.

◇ And so [Y.N] appeared in the lair, as the ultimate weapon.

◇ "Donnie! Get up! Lie down in bed!" The teenager themself was not well-rested, considering the early hour, but they tried not to sound irritated. Donnie mumbled something again and straightened up in his chair.

"Raphaello, leave me alone," Donnie started, putting his hands on the keyboard. Apparently, he had no intention of opening his eyes. "I still need to make a few changes to the code..."

"Wait, do you think I'm Raph??" [Y.N] asked in surprise, pointing at themself. Did their voice really sound so manly and deep?? Since when??

"And you're talking in the third person again; I've told you that it's no longer fashionable." Donnie tried not to hit his head against the desk even a little, wanting to at least be somewhat awake. The human wanted to say something, correct him, but gave up with a certain idea in their mind.

◇ they had noticed strange aspects of their friend's behavior lately. He was more open to their, often grabbing their hand or hugging their despite his usual aversion to it, he made various devices for their that made quite an impression on their... there had to be something to it!

◇ "Hey, buddy," the human leaned lazily against the desk, trying their best to mimic the speech style of the oldest of the brothers. "Do you, you know, have something going on with our best, most wonderful human friend??"

"You mean April?" Ouch, that hurt, even though [Y.N] felt the same way. "She's our almost-sister, Raph, yuck."

◇ "Oh, no! [Y.N], I meant [Y.N]!" The teenager corrected themself, slightly annoyed. It was weird.

"What about them? I already told you." No! Not like that!

"Ahahah, you know I have a bad memory when I'm not stressed!"

"Mh..." Pause. Did they say something wrong? Donatello is overly smart; he should figure out what's wrong! How will they explain this? "Everything's fine; my plan will be initiated in half a year at the latest." Plan? What plan??

"Plan...?"

"Rendezvous plan, duh," Donnie replied, resting his head on his hand. "I know you advised against it, but I can't do it differently. I need everything to be tip-top before I confess my feelings to them."

◇ "..."

◇ "..."

◇ "Raph...?"

◇ [Y.N] remained silent, trying to control their sudden heartbeat and their face turning as red as a strawberry.

Michelangelo

◇ Playing the role of Dr. Delicate Touch, the boy knew perfectly well what he felt and wanted to confess his love, but the natural fear of rejection also got to him.

◇ He wanted to think this all through. He wanted to do it as smoothly and charmingly as possible, but not in a way that made it seem like he didn't care. He didn't want to throw such important words to the wind!

◇ His artist's soul played a significant role here. Every time he felt great, he had to sketch something related to love.

◇ Just woke up from a fantastic dream? He had to quickly grab his sketchbook and sketch [Y.N] in a floral wreath.

◇ He was on patrol and saw their favorite cafe? He started sketching the teenager drinking coffee in the nearby sand with his finger, taking a picture of it as a keepsake.

◇ Spending quality time with [Y.N]? He convinced them to start painting each other with his favorite markers, and under the pretext of light fun, he drew orange hearts on their cheeks.

◇ It was all fun until there was an 'accident' during one of the previously mentioned activities.

◇ So, Mikey and [Y.N] were in his new room after Shredder's attack, and he needed help with some unique decoration.

◇ "Wait, isn't that a neon banner from the nearby store??" The teenager asked, pointing at the mentioned thing, peeking out from behind the boy.

"I neither confirm nor deny it!" Mikey laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "You have to admit it fits perfectly."

"Mhm, but I doubt you'll fall asleep with this," [Y.N] said skeptically, picking up one of the cardboard boxes that contained a surplus of notebook-like items. "Where does this go?"

"Oh! Just put it next to the cabinet; I'll put them in the drawers in a sec."

The human nodded, and as they took a few more steps, they tripped over the cables lying on the floor. they fell to the ground with a squeak, dropping the box less than half a meter in front of them.

"Are you okay??" The orange-loving enthusiast quickly ran to his friend, helping them get up as they groaned in pain.

"Yeah, I think so..." Their voice trailed off, surprising Mikey, who followed their gaze.

◇ His pupils immediately narrowed upon seeing an open sketchbook with many drawings and sketches of [Y.N], with a predominant theme of love.

"Mikey...?"

"IT'S NOTHING!" The teenager shouted, hastily picking up the sketchbook from the floor and pressing it against his plastron.

◇ Their faces both turned equally red with excessive thinking.

◇ Oops.

[stvrni0lo]

𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬

chris sturniolo x reader (angst/fluff)

summary: chris says something that makes the reader doubt their growing relationship

warnings/notes: chris kind of being an idiot for like a second, profanity, corny confession, happy ending, not proof read😭

requested?: yes! ↴

- can you do a Chris fic where he confesses his feelings in the rain and they kiss? Ik it’s corny but I think I’d be cute lol

- could i maybe ask for an angsty chris x reader with “A showing up at B’s doorstep, soaking from the rain” and “you’re shaking” from your prompt list?

- can I request the action prompt 20 with chris? “A showing up at B’s doorstep, soaking from the rain”

> > >

“Dude no way. I would never date her.”

The words rang through your head continuously.

Never.

He would never date you. Not “oh we’re just friends” or “I don’t like her like that” - no. He could never even imagine being with you.

The words struck you like a baseball bat to the head, and your face fell. Sure you knew there was a chance that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you never thought it would ever be confirmed so bluntly - much less while recording a car video with the triplets.

While filming the Q+A, somebody had sent in a question asking about you and Chris’ relationship. Chris shut it down really fast, and really harshly.

“Jesus dude, relax,” Matt laughed beside him.

“It’s true, right Y/N?” asked Chris as he turned his head to look at you in the back seat.

You swallowed, although it was incredibly difficult with how dry your throat had become. You didn’t even know if you would be able to speak right now.

“Mhm,” you said, nodding your head.

If Chris noticed your discomfort, he mentioned nothing about it, turning back to the camera and changing the topic as quick as it came.

“I would never date her.”

It kept playing over and over in your head on the drive home. You were supposed to be going to their house for a sleepover, but you had decided that you didn’t feel well and asked Matt to drive you home. Nick made a mental note of your body language, pulling out his phone and texting you immediately.

- - -

nick:

“why the sudden change? you okay?”

you:

“i just feel sick”

- - -

And that was that. He decided to not press any further as he sat in silence the whole car ride.

You let the conversation flow right over your head; you didn’t need to make matters worse by letting your emotions get the best of you. It was best to just not contribute - if you did, they would notice how little interest you had in even being there.

Taking off your seatbelt, you thanked Matt for dropping you off. Nick hugged you swiftly, squeezing you before letting you hop out of the car.

You said goodbye to Matt, you said goodbye to Nick, yet when Chris bid you a good night you simply ignored him and closed the door.

You didn’t want to deal with him right now.

For the past few weeks Chris had been more affectionate than usual. He’d text you good morning, constantly send you videos of him and his brothers, he’d face-time you, compliment you. One night he had even walked you home from a party that you had been to together, hugging you before watching you safely return to your house.

At the time you thought there might have been something there. Not anymore.

You remembered what he said to you that night he walked you home. There was even a moment where you thought he might kiss you, but he didn’t.

He simply stood there in silence, staring at you under the moonlight.

“You looked beautiful tonight.”

But now you just felt stupid for believing it could have been something more. It was just Chris being Chris - of course he didn’t like you that way.

You were aware of his commitment problems, but you never thought he would play you like that.

Maybe it was your fault for jumping to conclusions. He was probably just being nice. After all, you had been friends for a long time; affection was nothing to new to you both.

Sighing, you flopped down onto your bed before begrudgingly plugging your phone in.

Not even scrolling on your phone could cheer you up. Plus you weren’t in the mood to answer Nick’s increasing messages asking you about what happened tonight.

However, you inevitably had to. Your phone had been blowing up with notifications ever since you had walked into your room.

- - -

nick:

“talk to me. is it what chris said?”

- - -

You sighed. You could never hide from Nick, he pretty much knew you inside and out. He could read you like a book - and he also knew about your massive crush on his brother.

- - -

you:

“i guess”

nick:

“you know he didn’t mean it”

you:

“well he said it. it doesn’t matter i just wanna sleep”

nick:

“you know how he is. he was just saying it for the camera”

you:

“yeah well it still hurt.”

“thanks for texting, but i’m really tired tbh”

- - -

Locking your phone, you set it on your nightstand. You just felt like a complete idiot right now. And you were embarrassed. He had said it not only in front of both of your best friends (and his brothers), but to literally the entire audience that were about to watch the video.

You contemplated asking Nick to cut it out of the video completely.

Changing into your sleeping clothes, you climbed into bed. No matter how much you rolled around and switched positions, nothing could get you to fall asleep.

Just as you got into a comfortable spot, your phone started ringing.

“Can I not have one moment of peace?” You thought as you grabbed it off your nightstand to check the caller ID.

Of course it was the one person you didn’t want to speak to.

Chris.

Clicking on the decline button, you laid back down rather harshly onto the bed, springs squeaking under the sudden weight.

What could he possibly want right now? To rub into your face just how much he didn’t want to date you? How he constantly made you believe that he had somewhat of an interest in you just to rip it all away in less than 10 words?

You groaned into your pillow as you slapped it onto your face. Why did feelings have to be so complicated?

Your phone rang again so you reached your hand over and declined. Again. Upon the third time that it rang you decided to bite the bullet and answer.

“What do you want, Chris?”

You could hear wind blowing in the background, and the shuffle of shoes. Chris’ teeth chattered slightly over the receiver.

“Can you please open the door? I’m freezing,” he said, his breath shaky as he breathed out.

Fuck. Now you actually had no choice but to talk to him.

Making your way downstairs, you took a deep breath before reaching the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not a soaking wet Chris shivering on your doorstep.

“Oh my god. Chris, you’re shaking!” you said, trying to usher him inside.

Sure you were upset but you didn’t want him to get frostbite. Chris backed away from the door, resisting your encouragement for him to come in.

“No, just listen. Please,” he pleaded.

You eyed him up, noticing his wet shirt sticking to his skin, his hair flat and straight on his head, dripping down onto his face. Did he walk? Was this kid insane?

“How did you get here - actually I dont wanna know. Just come in please,” you said, holding out your hand.

Chris shook his head.

“No. Just hear me out.”

You rubbed at your face, sighing. If he wasn’t coming inside then you would just have to meet him halfway. Grabbing a pair of shoes, you slipped them on and closed the door behind you as you joined him in the rain.

He was about to protest but once he saw your silent glare he closed his mouth. He was in no position to scold you right now.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you stared at him.

“I’m listening.”

Chris stuttered a bit, trying to find the right words. He ran a hand through his soaked hair, his breath pluming in the cold air as he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he started, eyes meeting up to look at you.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it I just - I got freaked out that people were noticing stuff and I- I don’t know. I guess I was scared.”

You looked away from him as you tried to collect your thoughts. You understood where he was coming from, but that didn’t ease your pain any less. The doubt that had clouded your mind since those words left his mouth was something you couldn’t get rid of.

“I thought we had something going,” you said shyly. You felt so silly saying it, but it was true.

Your eyes were trained on the tips of your shoes, too ashamed to look at him.

“We did. We do,” he corrected, “I just don’t want people attacking you for being with me. I’ve seen the way some people act online and I would hate myself if I ever put you through that.”

“You know I don’t care about that,” you said as you looked up.

Chris stepped forward, his hands clasping yours. His breath created clouds of white around you, his shivering hands squeezing you with every inch of strength he had.

“But I do. I can’t watch you get hurt.”

You shook your head at him, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the rain fall atop your face.

“As soon as I saw your face I knew I messed up. I know I can’t undo it, but I want to make it up to you - because I really, really like you,” he said, his brows furrowing as he stared into your eyes.

“I meant everything I’ve said for these past few weeks. You’re not just a friend to me; and I tried showing you that, but I guess I just fucked it up today,” he continued.

Your hand left his to cup his cheek.

Hearing him explain himself made you feel sort of guilty. You knew he had trouble with commitment, and you knew how much he was afraid of being public with his relationships. However, you were glad he was here to reassure you now.

“You didn’t fuck anything up, Chris. I know why you said it - I just wish you would’ve talked to me before. If you don’t want people knowing that’s okay, but I want us to be open with each other, yeah?”

He nodded, eyes closing as he leaned his head into your hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice breaking.

You rubbed your thumb across his cheek. “It’s okay,” you whispered.

His blue eyes opened once more, but this time they were on your lips instead. Breath uneven, he let the air out of his lungs shakily.

“I really want to kiss you,” he said.

At this point you didn’t even feel the icy raindrops on your skin. His body heat radiated off of him as he stepped closer to you, his palm resting atop the hand that was cupping his face.

“What’s stopping you?”

That was all it took for him to finally close the gap between you. His hair dripped water along your cheeks, falling into your shirt and causing you to shiver. But you didn’t care. All you cared about was Chris, and the way his lips moved in-sync with yours.

Pulling away, he rested his head on your forehead.

His hands were on your lower back, hugging you close to him. Even so, it didn’t help him with the cold that was running through his veins.

“Let’s get you inside,” you said upon noticing his frozen state.

Chris let you guide him by the hand, letting you pull him upstairs as you brought him to the bathroom to get him a change of clothes and a towel. He was grateful for the warmth, but he left your side hesitantly, wanting to still be close to you.

“I’ll still be here when you’re done,” you said as you peeled him away from your waist before closing the bathroom door to let him do his thing.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked back to your room, not a care in the world.

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed that you had gotten your entire carpet and hallway wet with puddles of water.

All that mattered was that you had Chris, and he had you.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

[amberlynnmurdock]

All Mine

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader

Summary: Dex initially declines going out with you and your friends, but when he starts thinking of scenarios of men trying to flirt with you, he somehow finds himself in the bar to make sure that doesn't happen.

Genres: Angst

Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT, possessive!Dex, jealous!Dex, and I guess toxic!Dex? LOL just be prepared bc this might be the wildest fic ive written

ALSO shoutout to @mayajadewrites for helping me with getting the plot going, you GENIUS <3

Notes: I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE let me know what you think! Enjoy! <3

When he sent his reply to you, Dex stood quietly on his balcony, thinking of ways he could take it back. 

“Thanks for the invite,” he typed regretfully, his anxiety getting the better of him, “but I think I’ll pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure?” He read your text in your sweet voice. “I want to see you.”

He knows you want to see him—he wants to see you just as badly, but the thought of socializing with people other than you was a less-than-ideal situation for Dex. He only preferred to be around you and only you. Part of him didn’t want to share you with other people, the other part simply didn’t want to be around them. 

“Next time,” Dex lied, a pinch in his heart. “I promise.” 

He waits five minutes, and then ten minutes, and when twenty minutes pass by, he knows the conversation ends there. Dex slides the door open and reenters his apartment, sitting quietly at his kitchen table, phone in front of him. 

Scenarios start playing in his mind: you’re only going out with your friends. He’s met some of them and doesn’t care for them at all, but at least he knows you’ll be with them and only them. What bar did you say you were going to? The Black Dog? It slowly dawns on him that other people you don’t know will be around you too, and it bothers him that he can’t control every action of every person. What if some guy tried talking to you? Offered to buy you a drink? Flirted with you? Or worse, what if you liked it enough to never talk to Dex again?

He can’t imagine another guy having good intentions like Dex has good intentions with you. Dex wants to keep you safe from people like that, people he doesn’t know. People who may have ill intentions for their own selfish needs. 

And how can he make sure that you’re safe from people like that, sitting alone in his apartment here, away from you? 

If there’s one thing that will get him out the apartment, it’s the thought of someone trying to take away his North Star from him. 

◎◎◎

Dex arrives at the bar before you do. He’s in his denim jacket and baseball cap. After quickly ordering a club soda from the bartender, he makes his way to the back and chooses a quiet corner to sulk in, to hide, to watch from afar. It’s what he’s most comfortable doing, it’s what he does best. 

He doesn’t touch the club soda at all, bubbles wasting their air in the glass. He watches the people that are in the bar with disdain. They’re all fools, he thinks to himself, but which one will be the unlucky one who tries to talk to you?

The next time the door opens, you walk in first followed by your friends and Dex sinks deeper in his seat, tilts his head down so his cap is hiding his face. He watches you from underneath, bringing the glass of club soda closer to him. His heart may be hard but his eyes go soft every time he looks at you. You’re laughing with your friends, and you look beautiful in your black sweater and jeans. You and your friends find a table in the middle of the bar and that’s when Dex takes note of the people that surround you.

Right now, no one’s paying mind to your table except for him. He smiles to himself each time he sees you laugh—tries to share in the moment with you even though you don’t know he’s there. He wonders what you whisper to your friend at one point. Whatever it is, your friend laughs and hits your shoulder. You have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in front of you—Dex knows it’s the only white wine you’ll drink—and when you finish it, you look around for your server. 

The bar is much more crowded now and Dex has to move down a seat or two to keep his sights on you. He takes a deep breath and looks down when he sees you get up from your seat to go to the bar. When your back is to him, he looks up and watches as you patiently wait for a bartender’s attention. 

There are plenty of people at the bar, so many that not everyone is sitting on a stool. People squeeze in, lean on the counter, and move chairs out to fit more of their friends into conversations. You’re leaning with your left elbow on the bar, and Dex watches as you wait. Someone behind you accidentally pushes you, and both you and Dex react at the same time. You, startled from the contact, and Dex, sitting up more straight in his seat. He relaxes his shoulders after a few moments when he sees the person scoot their chair away from you, and you seemingly unbothered. 

You glance at your phone, scroll through something, and lock it again before putting it in your back pocket. Dex wonders if you re-read your messages like he does. He hopes so. You sigh, looking around the bar again—you weren’t having any luck getting a bartender’s attention.

And like a cloudy night ruining his view of his North Star, a man in a black jacket and boots stands directly in front of you. He’s got dark hair and a 5 o’clock shadow. Dex straightens in his seat again, high on alert. The man walks by you slowly in a calculative way. He doesn’t go unnoticed on Dex’s radar, not when he’s so close to you. The man walks by and inserts himself between a group, about five people away from you.

Dex feels his muscles tighten and he grips his glass of club soda hard. He has to let go of it so his entire focus is on the scene before him. Good thing he decided to come tonight—he knew this would happen. Dex watches you and then watches the man watching you. He doesn’t like how focused he is on you, how bad of an actor he is when he pretends to look around the bar just to look at you again. Dex takes a deep breath as he sees him slowly weave his way between people to stand next to you. He’s got something in his back pocket he keeps fiddling with. 

You’re oblivious, minding your business, waiting patiently for the bartender. At least Dex is there to protect you if anything were to go awry. He couldn’t have anything happen to you—the mere thought of it made him nauseous, losing someone so important to him, again. 

The man daringly asks the people who are standing next to you to move so he can have their spot. Dex’s throat goes dry as he sees the man brush his shoulder against yours purposefully. You glance up and move as much as you can, but the man moves closer to you again.

“Sorry, crowded bar,” the man says to you. At first glance, he’s handsome, but there’s something aggressive about his nature. 

“It’s alright,” you say shrugging your shoulders. You pretend to check your phone for something.

“You come here alone?” He asks you.

“No, I’m with my friends,” you smile, gesturing your head in their direction. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Really? You’re the first girl who’s ever turned down a free drink at a bar,” the man says, confused by your rejection. Perhaps even a little insulted. 

“I bet I’m not the first girl who’s rejected you point blank, though,” you say, hoping he gets the message. He’s taken aback by your words, and he doesn’t stop there.

“Bet you just haven’t had a guy like me dick you down to make you nicer.”

Dex doesn’t know what the conversation is, but from your body language and expression on your face, he knows it can’t be good. Whatever it was this man was saying to you, it was diminishing your light—his light—it was an attempt to take his North Star away. Dex stands up from his seat. 

It’s not until the man places his hand on your shoulder and then your neck that Dex feels his rage and jealousy course through his veins, so much so that it’s made him finally get up from his seat and walk straight toward you. The path to what was unfolding in front of him was like walking through a dark tunnel, and like a phantom appearing out of thin air, Dex walks up to the man, paying no mind to you, takes him by the collar of his cheap jacket and pushes him away from you.  

“Stay away from her,” Dex says in a cool tone, chest heaving, hands shaking from adrenaline. 

The man walks right up to Dex, and it’s comical that he thinks he even stands a chance. Dex glances around, the things around him becoming all too obvious. A napkin dispenser. A shot glass. A butter knife. They’re all too easy. 

“Dex,” he hears you call his name, and now there’s too many people looking at them, and the man in front of him is anticipating his next moves and for nothing because just as quickly as Dex made himself known, he’s out of the bar pushing past everyone and walking down the street. Away from those people. Away from you. He hears the door open behind him, unsure if it’s you or not. 

He couldn’t even look at you—ashamed of his actions, ashamed he let you see him like that, which wasn’t even his worse but damn near close to it. He’s leaning forward against a brick wall, catching his breath from the adrenaline of seeing you being touched by another man, trying not to black out from his rage. But you’re right behind him, shocked he was there to save you. What Dex wasn’t expecting were your arms snaking around his waist, resting your head against his back. 

Was it possible you weren’t mad at him for being like that?

“No one’s ever been protective of me like you,” you sigh against his back. Dex is shaking from the adrenaline but he finds it in him to stop and focus on your arms around him. He places his hands on yours and sighs. “Guess you decided to come after all?” You ask him. “I didn’t even see you walk in, but what hell of a timing that was.”

“It was timing,” Dex agrees with you and lies. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Look at me, Dex,” you say gently. Dex turns around in your arms and you reach up to take off his baseball cap to see his face. “Thank you.”

There’s something in his eyes you can’t read but you agree when he asks to go back to his place.

◎◎◎

“You know, if you wanted to hang just the two of us, you could’ve said so,” you say as you walk inside his apartment and throw your jacket on his couch. Dex turns around and locks the door, feeling calmer than he did before but still on edge. He places his baseball cap on the counter and hangs up his jean jacket. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your night with your friends.”

“It was sort of ruined anyway, but somehow got even better now that I’m here,” you smile. “Seriously, it’s crazy you were there in the nick of time.”

“Yeah,” Dex trails off. “I know.”

“You still seem on edge,” you say softly, “are you okay?”

Dex looks away from you and places both his fists on his hips. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I—.” How does he say it, without saying it? That he nearly wanted to kill a man for touching you? He almost lost it in front of you and almost lost you?

“I couldn’t stand seeing someone touching you like that,” Dex explains. “I can’t get it out of my head.” 

“Try not to think about it,” you whispered and placed your hand on his face. Now Dex met your eyes. “Focus on me.”

It wasn’t until now he realized he was still shaking from the adrenaline. He never got it out before—the anger and jealousy were still bottled inside, running through his veins with no relief, because seeing you being touched like that by some man triggered something in Dex so strong that not even acting violently could calm him down. It festered in his chest like a sickness that could only be cured by your reassurance, your touch, your presence. 

And here you were in front of him, doing and giving him all of that. It’s what made it so easy for Dex to come to his conclusion that you were, in fact, all his—every part of you, everything, you were his alone. No one else ever had this effect on him the way you do. 

“I just want you to be safe with me,” Dex said, “only me.”

You smiled, even if you didn’t know the depths of his words. They came off to you as sweet nothings but to him it was law. It was no other way. It was unchangeable. 

“You’re mine,” Dex said in a guttural voice, his eyes half moons as he looked at you, “all mine.” His anger and jealousy started to shift into something else the more he looked at you. The more you absorbed his words and listened to him. He knew he had your full attention and he wanted more. The pit of this started beneath the button of his jeans. It was deeper than his heart. 

“Make it so,” you squint your eyes in return, succumbing to his intense gaze. 

Dex placed both his hands on your arms and traced the length of you slowly. You took a step closer to him so your chest was touching his. 

“I control myself so well around you,” Dex says in a low voice, “but right now I don’t want to.”

“So don’t,” you smirk, running your lips lightly against his. 

Dex swallows hard before his fingers find the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You stand in front of him in nothing but your jeans and bra and to Dex, it’s still not enough.  Dex runs his fingertips on your sides and slides his hand to your back, swiftly unclasping your bra. You shiver against his touch which is all too sweet.

“Dex,” you say in a low voice, “so don’t.” You repeated what you said before, hoping he got your message. 

Dex lifts an eyebrow and takes a deep breath, his dark eyes looking you up and down before relying purely on instinct. Dex lifts you up into his arms and you wrap your legs around him as he carries you to his bedroom and gently throws you on his bed. You land on your back and spread yourself on his fitted sheets, sheets he knows will be in ruins when he’s had you how wants. 

“I’m the only one who can see you like this,” Dex says. He takes his shirt off and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, slowly sliding them off your legs. You’re shaking. You nod at his words, whatever he says, that’s okay. 

Dex leans over you, his dirty blonde hair pushed to one side, his dark eyes looking at every inch of your skin. You don’t feel self-conscious, you feel seen. Dex kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, and soon he’s peppering kisses between your breasts and down the length of your torso before he kisses the part you’re aching for. 

“I’m the only one who can touch you like this,” Dex says softly as he looks up at you from below. He places his hands on either of your thighs and spreads you open, so he’s face to face with your wetness. “And this,” he says, placing a thumb on your clit and putting not enough pressure on it, “is mine.”

“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes. Dex takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours while he kisses your sex and drags his tongue slowly over your folds. You press your head deeper in his mattress and take a long, deep breath. Dex begins to lap at your folds, licking you slowly and then faster, and when he gently wraps his lips on top of your clit and begins to suck on your sensitive bud, you let out a soft moan. 

“I’m the only one who can make you sound like that,” Dex looks up momentarily before he continues eating you out. He looks up at you with his mouth on your clit and closes his eyes again. He keeps licking up your wetness and feels his cock harden in his jeans, aching to replace his mouth with it. But not yet. 

“Dex,” you beg softly, “kiss me.”

Dex stops licking you up and moves up on his bed to be face to face with you. His lips are shiny from your wetness, but you don’t care. Dex slowly leans down and touches his lips to yours. You hold his face in your hands and hold him there for a few moments, opening your mouth to let his tongue in, you taste yourself on his lips. Dex deepens the kiss and you wrap your legs around him again. He places his hands under your back and lifts you, urging you to lay on your chest. You rest your head on his pillow and listen as he unzips his pants and throws them off.

  He puts his hands on your waist and lifts you so your ass is up. Dex spreads your legs and slowly slides in two fingers inside your pussy.

“So wet,” Dex whispers, “just for me.” He continues sliding his fingers in and out of your pussy. He pushes your hand to the side and leans down to kiss you in the crook of your neck. It sends butterflies to your sides, the feeling of his soft lips kissing you sweetly. And the sweetness is gone when you feel Dex’s cock slowly enter inside you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Dex.”

“Say my name,” he whispers in a low voice in your ear.

“Dex,” you moan again as he begins to rock his cock back and forth inside of you slowly, feeling your tightness wrap around him. Dex’s arms are on either side of your head, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. He fastens his pace thrusting inside you, feeling you move against him. You feel so wet and so tight around him, he bites your shoulder softly and says your name. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Dex whispers, “You’ll always be mine.”

“Yeah,” you moan, “you feel so good, Dex.”

“Fuck,” he lets a curse slip out as the more he thrusts his cock inside you the more wet you feel. “Taking me so well,” he says in a deep voice. 

“I’m so close, Dex,” you moan, and when you say this, Dex completely pulls out and you feel the absence of his size, absence of his closeness. Dex doesn’t want to finish with your face away from him. He wants to look into your eyes, see your face as his cock brings you to orgasm. Gone was the dominance, the real Dex wanted this to be special. 

He flips you over onto your back and spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist. Before he enters you again, Dex is breathing heavily, and he reaches up his fingers to caress the side of your face. Your lips are parted—you’re out of breath too—and the gravity of tonight’s earlier situation hits him. He never wants you to feel unsafe again. The only way that can happen is if Dex is in your life.

“You mean a lot to me,” Dex says, and it really is the closet thing he can say to those three dating little words. You smile at him, place your own hand on his face too. You don’t need to say anything. He knows you feel the same. And Dex slowly pushes himself inside your pussy again, feeling your tightness clench him and his size fill you up perfectly. Your face contorts with pleasure and you breath a heavy sigh. The tip of his cock hits your sweet spot each time he thrusts inside you. “You’re mine,” Dex says again as he picks up his pace. 

“Oh, Dex,” you pull him even closer as he continues pounding you into orgasm. Dex's eyes are dark as he holds this intense gaze with you, watching you orgasm like his life depended on it. Your so tight and went around him, when you finally come down from orgasm, Dex finally lets himself reach his own climax. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Dex’s own face contorts and it’s the sexiest you’ve ever seen him, coming so undone like this. He spills his cum inside you on his final thrust and feels his seed fill you up. You feel him spurt deeply and it feels euphoric to feel all of him inside you like this. 

If your relationship wasn’t clear before, it sure was now. You belonged to Dex and he you. As much as you were his, he was all yours. 

[fox-stan]

@mamuzzy’s dark fox gave me brain rot too lol. Anyways here’s how I imagine fox gets to that point

Wolffe is already halfway out the door by the time Fox scrambles after him, barely catching his wrist to stop him leaving already.

“That’s not what I was trying to say Wolffe. I swear! It’s just, we need-“

“Shut up.” Wolffe snarls, snatching his arm out of Fox’s grip and spinning around. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I don’t care what you think you’ve been through, you know nothing about what it’s like to loose all the men under your command.”

“But-“ Fox isn’t allowed to finish his protest, isn’t allowed to beg even more for the help his men desperately need. Wolfe shoves him hard, Fox’s bad shoulder clipping the door frame causing his vision to gray out for a moment. By the time his vision returns to normal Wolffe is already gone.

Fox sinks to the ground and lets his head thunk back against the wall as tears start to well up in his eyes. He doesn’t need Wolffe, and he was foolish to think the Wolffe would be in a place to listen to Fox’s problems. Not with the Malevolent disaster so fresh. Still, he had to try. With how things are going he’s not sure how much longer the Guard can last without help.

The door slides open and Fox looks up hoping to see Wolffe, only for his stomach to drop when it’s Thorn who enters. He’s got his helmet clipped to his belt, so Fox can see the sympathetic look on his face as he sits down next to Fox.

“I heard the yelling, I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

He’s kind enough not to say I told you so when Fox shakes his head. Fox knows that Stone will have less restraint when he finds out. Thorn doesn’t say anything, even when the tears Fox has been fighting spill over, running down his cheeks now that he’s got the comforting presence of his brother pressed into his side.

They sit there quietly as Fox mourns his once close relationship with his batch and despairs his helplessness to help his own men.

Fox’s comm rings out in the silence between them and he flinches when he opens it to find a summons from the Chancellor. Shit. Of course he doesn’t get even a few minutes to just sit and be miserable. The Guard doesn’t get nice things like that.

He knows better than to take too long so he quickly rubs away his tears and shoves on his helmet, only stopping to knock his shoulder against Thorn’s in a silent goodbye before heading towards the Chancellors office.

When he gets there he’s surprised to find a lack of Red Guards manning the door, leaving him a little unsure as he steps inside. Thankfully, the Chancellor waves him to stand at attention in his usual spot, standing just to the side of the ornate desk so that he can be forced to kneel at the Chancellor’s feet just as easily as he can be bent over it to receive lashings.

When the Chancellor gestures for him to remove his bucket he hesitates. He’s acutely aware of the appearance of his face right now. It will be impossible to hide that he was just crying, with how swollen and red his eyes are. But the Chancellor is not a patient man so after a brief moment Fox slides his helmet off and clips it to his belt.

They’re alone in the office Fox can’t help but notice, with unease building in his stomach. The feeling only grows worse when the Chancellor gives him a sympathetic smile. The Chancellor hasn’t bothered to use his mask around him in months, not since Fox discovered what he truly is.

“I saw your conversation with Commander Wolffe.”

Fox’s stomach drops, he doesn’t even bother asking how the Chancellor knows. Everything that happens in the senate building makes its way back to him eventually. Even most things outside of the building typically do.

Fox foolishly thought he wouldn’t be punished as long as he didn’t implicate the Chancellor to Wolffe. Clearly that belief was misplaced. Briefly he wonders if the Chancellor is simply going to kill him. Since there’s no Red Guard here to deliver a punishment that seems like the most likely course of action.

“I can offer you the support that the GAR refuses to.”

Fox is still processing the fact that he tried to reach out for help and instead got his hand bitten by the only people in the wretched universe that are supposed to care about him and the fact that the Chancellor seemingly knows about the whole thing. Given the circumstances he thinks he can be excused for his dumbfounded, “What?”

The Chancellor laughs. It’s not the cruel, twisted thing Fox is used to, but rather a truly amused little sound that Fox is unfamiliar with.

“I saw what happened when you tried to reach out for help from lesser beings. The evidence of how that went is all over your face.”

Self-consciously Fox scrubs a hand over his face but he knows that will do little to hide the evidence of his tears.

“They don’t have the resources to help you, even if they cared enough to try.” That stings and Fox can’t help his reflexive flinch but the Chancellor keeps talking. “I, however, have all the resources and power you could want.”

Fox wants to deny him, he’s loyal to the republic he would never knowingly work with a Sith. But. What has the republic done for him? All his loyalty has wrought him is dead little brothers and older brothers who apparently don’t care.

The Chancellor stands, ornate robes rasping across the floor as he move closer, clasping Fox’s shoulder. “I don’t make this offer lightly, and I will not make it again. So I urge you to consider what this could do for you. For your men.”

Fox tilts his chin up. “And if I wanted to kill Senators?”

The Chancellor laughs that strange new laugh again. “Senators are quite replaceable. In fact I think you’ll find my adversaries often find unfortunate ends.”

“Medical supplies?” He probes again, expecting more resistance this time when it’s something that could only help his brothers, not something that can be twisted to suit the Chancellor’s needs.

“My boy you’d have your pick of the Republic’s medical supplies.”

Fox swallows and thinks of holding Thorn down to keep him from thrashing while medics pulled shrapnel out of his stomach and hip. Thinks of the way he wished so desperately for painkillers while his younger brother screamed.

He knows his answer, the Chancellor must realize at the same time because a slow smile spreads across his face and his eyes seem to burn a molten gold.

“All I ask in return is your loyalty. And your willingness to do a few favors for me.”

Fox knows it won’t be that simple. But he thinks of Wolffe turning his back on him, of all his brothers in the GAR ignoring his pleas for help. He thinks of what this could do for the Guard, the ways this could make their lives better and he decides that whatever the price for dealing with a Sith is one he will happily pay.

And so he kneels and swears himself to Chancellor Palpatine.

[dulcewrites]

For You Always

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol)

Summary: you always knew Aemond had a soft spot for you, but you always just assumed it was him wanting to look out for his brother’s wife. Soon you find out that his devotion knows no bounds

Warnings: allusions of sexual assault

A/N: I was inspired by the dynamic between Alicent and Larys (and her and Criston). That dynamic is probably the most interesting to me to watch (plus when Olivia and Matthew are together in scenes it’s like a masterclass in acting. Might be my fav two actors on the show rn). I also just love the idea of Aemond being someone’s guard dog. I plan on writing things from this list. And plan on doing things with a black reader :). But I got inspired and it flowed very easily so I wanted to get it out. I am open to request as well! Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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In hindsight, confessing your sadness to Aemond after the incident was a bad idea. But in your defense, it wasn’t intentional. You found yourself crying, trying to make it back to your chambers before anyone spotted you in distress. And there he was.

Whispers was something you had grown used to since arriving in King’s Landing years ago. Whispers about your family back home, whispers about your life now… including whispers about your relationship with Aegon. Most of the time it would roll off your back. Mainly because the rumors themselves were never true. It’s easy to brush it off when there’s no validity.

It wasn’t until one day you overheard two lady’s maids speaking about your husband. Certain words stuck out. Dyana, crying, Aegon, paid off, and moon tea.

You felt sick, physically ill hearing them talk. You had always wondered what happened to Dyana; lamenting on how good she was with Elia, your daughter. When asked if he knew why she was not around anymore, all Aegon gave you was a shrug before changing the subject. But now you understand why. Deep down you knew Aegon was not a good man, but you naively hoped he had changed after the birth of your daughter. His behavior was always questionable, but this was a new low. You wish you could let this roll off your back like the rest. No use in chalking it up to a rumor; you know Aegon too well for that.

You couldn’t help the tears from falling as you turned away. The walk to your chamber felt like forever. Mind racing; you thought about poor Dyana and where she was now, who knew about this, and selfishly you thought about if people thought you knew all along. That you brushed it off because that is what is expected of a lady in your position. Smile and endure. Ignore and push through.

That people thought you were just as cruel as your husband.

It was the tears on your face that made Aemond stop in his tracks. You tried to wipe them away quickly after you spotted him but it was too late. He all but forces you to tell him why you’re in this state. It wasn’t becoming of your station to be crying in the arms of your lord husband’s brother. But there you were in your room, pouring your heart out.

Aemond had always been good to you. His generosity was not something you were expecting when you came into the family. Everyone had responded the way you predicted. Helena was sweet. Queen Alicent seemed indifferent; not exactly warm, but always there if you needed something. The sicker King Viserys grew, the less you saw him. Aegon was doting when he wanted you, awful when he didn’t. Aemond was the odd one out. Completely shocking you with the concern he shows. You had made up in your mind it stemmed from his hatred for Aegon.

That day, Aemond simply rubbed your back and told you he’d handle anything else that happened with Aegon. It must’ve been your frazzled state that led to you taking that comment as sweet rather than ominous.

Silly you.

It felt like the whispers and rumors only got worse after finding out about what happened to Dyana. By the time you had worked up the courage to confront Aegon, another indiscretion made it back to you.

It seems that your husband has an affinity for servants and ladies in waiting. If rumors are true, at least this one is consensual. The name of a servant you know helps Helaena continues to get bandied about.

You can’t help but feel embarrassment and rage flood through your body. He’s one the princes of the storied Targaryen family, a future king if things go the way certain people in the Red Keep want them to. And here he is, not only abusing his power but making a mockery of you in the process.

A part of you wonders if you should go to Alicent. You decide against it; you know how the game is played. No matter how much she may resent his behavior, he will always take precedent over you. Then you think about going to Helaena, but you hated the idea of troubling her with your mess. So there you were, at Aemond’s door with a rant on the tip of your tongue.

It was nice. Getting your feelings out to someone who shared your complicated feelings towards Aegon.

Aemond rarely responds or gives you advice. Just gave you an chance to let it all out, which is something you appreciated. You left his quarters feeling a bit lighter. As light as you could feel with the position you are in.

You spent the rest of the week trying to avoid talking to Aegon, and spend time with Elia and with Helaena.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Helaena’s cryptic language was something you had learned to just go with. Though, you did get an eerie feeling after she said it to you with a concerned look on her kind face.

You tried to push the hurt feelings away, and almost succeeded. Until your lady in waiting came to you one night with a nervous look on her face. Reluctantly, she told you news that she had heard.

You couldn’t hold it any longer the next time you saw Aegon. When the conversation started, you were surprised to hear him speak so openly about his cheating. You had just always expected him to act like the whole castle isn’t talking about it.

“What do you mean you told her she could be your second wife,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your voice low.

He winced and looks down at his feet.

“I don’t even remember saying it myself,” he says meekly. “But she surely remembers it. Won’t let me forget it.”

You scoff, and take good look at him. You think about how your mother’s vision for you, and your own blind ambition has landed you stuck with the biggest idiot ever.

“So let me get this straight,” you walked towards him. “You spend your days drowning yourself in your cups, and disrespecting half of the women in the Red Keep. And now you tell me you’re whispering sweet nothings into her ears so she keeps stroking your ego.. amongst other things. Some couple you two make. You’re stupid enough to say that, and she’s delusional enough to believe you.”

“My lov-“ you hold up hand to stop him.

“You will fix this,” your finger hits his chest. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

You leave the room in a hurry, ignoring his tries to stop you. Where you are going at this hour? You have no idea, but you can’t be in the same rom as Aegon right now. But then you get an idea… the dragon pit.

Vhagar can’t fit in pit but whenever Aemond wants to ride her, he goes there.

You feel a bit silly, going to him to whine about how awful his brother is. But when you find him walking from the pit, the words and emotions just flowed out. Honestly for someone so outwardly cold, Aemond handles you so gently.

“To do that, and right in front of you is an insult.”

You nod in agreement because it is. It shows how much he doesn’t care. How much you carry your relationship with him.

“And the most frustrating part is that I just have to live with it,” you think about Elia, and the pressure there is to have another baby, a boy. “I have to not only face Aegon, but apparently the woman who he chooses lay with. I have to hear the whispers not about him being a disgrace. But about me being so frigid that of course he’d seek warmth from another.”

You run your hands down your face.

“What has my life become?”

Aemond doesn’t reply, just gives you an inquisitive look before nodding to himself. He walks you back to the room.

“Everything will be fine. Trust me,” his tone is so certain. You want to be ask how does he know, but you guess that’s what any person says when they’re comforting someone else.

You take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.

The day felt different. You don’t know why. You went through you typical schedule, most of which revolves around caring for Elia. Despite the off feeling you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the day was reflectively uneventful… until Queen Alicent comes to visit you.

She smiles as she holds Elia.

“How are you my dear,” her voice is soft and measured. The question is simple but it makes you uneasy. If things have made it back to you, they’ve surely made it back to her.

“I’m doing well your Grace,” you put on your best face. “Just a little tired.”

She hums in response.

“That’s good to hear,” she steps closer to you, lowering her voice. “I’m glad you were able to take care of any problems that may have arose.”

You blink at her. She’s clearly talking about Aegon and the servant. You did tell Aegon to fix it, but the quickness is surprising. Plus you assumed he’d come whining to you about it after he had ended things.

“I’m glad to know you can take care of things on your own.” she continues, and your confusion grows.

Didn’t know you had it in you? Take care of things? You truly do not understand what the Queen is saying. Before you can get into it, Ser Arryk knocks saying the King needs Alicent. After she leaves, you hand Elia to your lady in waiting.

You must go to Helaena.

You find her in her chambers, embroidery hoop in hand. The bright smile she greets you with drops when yo ask about her lady in waiting.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Her voice is somber, and you let out a deep sigh. Who is the flower? She clearly knows something but you wonder if even she can even figure it out herself. There’s no way you can go one of your girls, you’d be tipping your hand. And Aegon never seems to be around when you need him. Then it hits you.

I’ll handle it

Everything will be ok, trust me

It couldn’t be. You try to talk yourself out of the idea races into your mind as you walk to Aemond’s room. You squeeze your eyes shut as you knock on the door. The aloofness of his demeanor only makes you more anxious.

“I don’t even know how to ask this,” you give him a tight, nervous smile once he lets you in. “Or that you would even know the answer.”

He’s sitting in a chair, and tilts his head to the side. You pause for a moment. Collecting your thought; the last thing you want to do is accuse him of something.

“She’s gone,” he replied after silence passes through the room. He sounds bored of the careful dance you’re trying to play.

It’s vague. Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean Aegon did something right for once, but then again how would Aemond know that before you. You didn’t want her to lose her job. You just wanted the record set straight, and selfishly you didn’t want people questioning your marriage.

“What did you do,” you whisper, suddenly getting worried.

“I did what Aegon will never have the courage to do,” he stands up, and starts walking towards you. “I protected you.”

“Aemond what do-“

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he interrupts you. “We took care of it.”

Your stomach sinks. We took care of it. There’s only one person.. no one thing Aemond could be talking about. Aemond on his own is intimating enough

“I didn’t want her dead,” you look at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t seem phased by your panic. In fact he gives you a smile, or at least closest thing Aemond does to a smile.

“My future queen wanted something done, so I did it,” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

He thinks of you as his future queen, you’ve known that for a while. Everything starts and ends with you in his eyes. Any threat to you is a threat to him. You had grown to understand Aemond’s intensity, but this is a lot even for him. The look in his eye makes you know this won’t be a one time thing. That he’s going to go to these lengths whether you like it or not. Haelena’s words ring in your head.

A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation

[woman-of-balnain]

Bold as Love Part 2 (Arthur x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 | Masterlist | A03 Ver.

Summary: A requested part 2, where the Reader gets back at Arthur for making her jealous.

A/N: @anyas-stuff, I hope it's okay. I wasn't sure if I was making him too dominant, and then later if he wasn't dominant enough lol 😅 Please let me know if you aren't happy with any of it and I'll edit it to your liking.

Warnings: Possessive Arthur, jealous Arthur, dominant Arthur, reader flirting with some random guy lol, Arthur punching and threatening said guy, swearing/cursing, smut, unprotected sex, spanking, creampie, no use of Reader's name/Y/N etc.

Word Count: 3,409

Divider by: cafekitsune

You were treading into dangerous waters as you flirted with the handsome man you’d spotted while in the Bastille Saloon. Arthur had noticed that you were still annoyed with him for going off to see Mary, so he’d taken you out of camp for the night, planning for you both to spend some time alone together in Saint Denis. But the saloon was filled with people, meaning Arthur had to work harder than usual to get the bartender’s attention.

That had given you the perfect opportunity to get back at him. All it took was spotting this attractive stranger - who was clearly interested in you - from across the room. You had made your way over to him, struck up a lascivious conversation and now you were seated in his lap, toying with him and waiting for Arthur to notice.

You played with the collar of the man’s jacket, while his hand disappeared under your skirt, trailing up the bare skin of your leg. You hoped Arthur would realize soon, before things got to a point where backing out would cause a scene.

“How ‘bout we find somewhere more private, beautiful?” The man spoke deeply, right by your ear.

You tried to think of a way to stall him. He was attractive, sure, but you had no real interest in him other than to incite Arthur’s jealousy.

“This feller botherin’ you darlin’?”

Speak of the devil.

You tried to hide your smirk, not wanting to give yourself away as you turned your head to regard him.

“No,” you replied simply. “We’re just talking.”

Arthur looked absolutely livid, and his gaze only hardened even further as the man snaked his other arm around your waist.

“Yeah, back off mister,” the man told Arthur, not seeming to realize that he knew you, let alone that you were together. “I saw her first, so I’m havin’ her first. You can do what you want with her after that.”

You tensed at his words, disgusted by the way he talked about you like you were just some shiny new toy that he got the first dibs on playing with. But you barely had time to truly react, because Arthur seemed to like it even less. He moved with lightning speed, pulling you away from the other man right before he brought his fist back and then slammed it into the bastard’s face.

“I best not hear you talk about her like that again,” Arthur warned him lowly, seething with anger. “’Cause if I do, I’ll do worse than just breakin’ your nose.”  

Your heart pounded with excitement as Arthur took hold of your wrist and you got one final look at the blood pouring down the man’s face before you were being pulled up the stairs and towards the hotel room Arthur had booked. You let out a startled gasp as your back was pushed against the wall of the room after you entered it.

Arthur’s gaze was dark with both anger and possessive desire. You couldn’t stop the small smirk that played across your lips, as you realized that you had successfully brought out his jealousy.

“Did you forget you’re mine, darlin’?” He asked in that deep and gruff tone of his.  

He was pressed right up against you, his eyes heated as one of his hands moved to your collarbone. Arthur’s fingertips brushed over your skin, teasing in the way that he was barely touching you, but providing just enough contact to leave you wanting more.

“Are you jealous?” You asked him playfully, attempting to mask the way his touch always got to you.

“He had his hand up your skirt,” Arthur practically growled out. “I’m the only one who gets to touch you like that.”

His answer only confirmed your suggestion, even though he didn’t outright admit it. You reveled in the raw possessiveness that you found in his gaze, feeling yourself already becoming wet with anticipation. You tried to bite back a moan as Arthur began hiking up your skirt until your bare legs were revealed.

“Where did he touch you?” Arthur’s fingertips trailed softly over your knee. “Here?”

“Mmm hmm,” you nodded slowly, eyelids drooping slightly as you bit down on your bottom lip in open desire.

“What about here?” He moved his hand further up your thigh.

“Yes.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed with annoyance, but his touch kept travelling further upwards until he reached the very top.

“You better not have let him touch you here, darlin’,” Arthur warned you lowly, his hand cupping your now dripping wet pussy.

“What if I did?”

“I’ll go back down there and kill the son of a bitch.”

You should have found that to be a turnoff and you should have felt shame due to the fact that it only filled you with more desire for your man. But you felt neither of those things and your pussy just got wetter at the possessive fury Arthur was exhibiting.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare tell me you’re this wet for anyone but me.”

“What? I’m not allowed to have a little fun with someone else?”

You were referring to him going off to see Mary, of course. The number of times your mind had tortured you with imagined images of what the two of them might have got up to in that dark theatre left you rightfully angry.

Yet, you realized with satisfaction that Mary seemed to be furthest thing from Arthur’s mind in that moment. He didn’t seem to pick up on your insinuation and instead he just seemed to get angrier at the idea of you wanting any man who wasn’t him.

“You’re mine,” he reminded you again. “And you’re gonna prove it to me.”

Your eyebrows raised in question, but he didn’t give you time to think over and guess at what he might mean. Arthur took hold of your wrist again, pulling you over to the bed and unceremoniously pushing you down onto it. Then, his hands were on you, unfastening the belt around your waist, which kept your skirt up.

You were quick to work on removing your blouse as well, flinging it off to the side at the same time Arthur pulled the skirt down your legs. Once you were naked before him, he took a moment to eye you up and down with open lust before his gaze hardened again.

“Turn around.” He ordered.

“Or what?” You challenged. You were still unwilling to give in, partly out of pride and partly because you wanted to see how far you could push him and just how possessive and dominant he could get.

“Don’t make me ask again, darlin’,” he warned. “Or it’ll be ten instead of five and I’ll keep goin’ up ‘til you listen.”

Ten what? You wondered.

You did as he said though, turning around until your stomach was pressed against the bed.

“Lift up your hips,” he continued instructing you.

You lifted them up, resulting in your ass being presented to him.

“That’s it,” he praised. “My good girl.”

You felt the coarseness of his calloused hands smoothing over your exposed ass, his fingertips trailing over the naked skin before he squeezed down appreciatively. Then, he moved his touch down to your dripping folds, stroking along the slit of your pussy and then up to your clit, causing your legs to shake with need.

“That feel good, darlin’?”

“Mmm,” you couldn’t form any words as your body became desperate for more.

“What was that?” Arthur teased you by pulling his hand away. “Tell me.”

“It feels good,” you moaned out, pushing your hips up even further in an attempt to have him touch you again.

“What does?”

“You…” the reply was breathless and filled with desire. “Touching me.”

“Good girl,” you could practically hear the smirk he must’ve had. “Just my touch, right darlin’?”

You managed to regain some of your stubbornness now that he had relinquished his touch, so you bit back a little.

“Maybe…”

Yet, you were surprised when Arthur didn’t verbally respond straight away, and the only thing you could hear was the sound of him removing his gun belt. You went to turn your head and look at him, but Arthur was quick to give you another order.

“Eyes forward, sweetheart.”

You did as he said, waiting with anticipation as you heard him place the belt on the dresser before the sound of clothes rustling filled the room. Then, Arthur’s body was bending down over yours, pressing against you until his lips were right by your ear. You realized that he had stripped as you felt his hardened length against your lower back.

“I want you to count for me gorgeous,” his deep and gravelly voice spoke into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“You’ll know when to start,” was all he said in response.

Then Arthur was pulling back, and you expected to feel his cock thrusting into you fast and hard. You were aching to have him filling you up, deep inside. But you weren’t expecting to feel the forceful and sharp slap of his hand against your ass. A shocked sound – something between a moan and gasp – escaped your lips.

“I told you to count, darlin’,” he reminded you. “If you forget, this’ll just take longer.”

“Oh, fuck!” You moaned out, realizing that he was going to make you endure this at least another four times.

The sharp sting of his hand against your skin was shocking and gave you just the slightest twinge of pain, but it also made your pussy even more wet and needy for him.

“You got a dirty mouth, gorgeous,” he chuckled darkly. “But that ain’t what I wanna hear right now.”

He spanked his hand down again, his free one holding your hip to steady you.

“T-two,” you got out.

“No, sweetheart, that was one.”

You groaned, realizing that he was serious about drawing it out even longer if you lost count.

“One,” you corrected yourself, your pussy clamping down on nothing as you yearned to have him just fuck you already.

“Good girl,” he praised, squeezing down on your hip.

“Oh, Christ! Two…”

He had brought his hand down again and the sweet mix between pain and pleasure was already too much to bear.

“Look at you darlin’,” Arthur admired the sight of you. “Your pussy is soaked. Is this turning you on?”

“Please, Arthur,” you begged, noting how he had stopped. “I need you inside me.”

“You sure?” He asked, making you frown.

“Of course, I’m sure!”

“You don’t want that feller downstairs?”

“No,” you insisted. “I just wanted to get back at you… Make you jealous too…”

“Oh darlin’, I ain’t jealous,” Arthur told you lowly. “I am god damned furious.”

He brought his hand down again, a little harder this time and you scrambled to get out the word ‘three’.

“You’re mine,” he said yet again. “All mine.”

Your only response was another deep and desperate moan, so he did it another time, forcing you to continue counting.

“Say it, darlin’,” he coaxed you, his fingers soothing your skin by tracing lightly over where he had been spanking you.

“I’m yours,” you breathed out. “Just yours.”

Then you were crying out in euphoric bliss as he pulled back and finally thrust into you, deep and hard.

“Don’t forget it sweetheart,” Arthur warned you. “You do that again, and I won’t leave the bastard alive.”

Your hands balled into fists, clutching tightly at the sheets as he continued to pound into you.

“Your body is attuned to mine,” he grit out, quickly becoming lost in his own sense of desire. “You think another man can make you feel like this?”

“No,” you breathed out, knowing he was right.

He didn’t even have to touch you. Just one heated look, or the way his voice deepened and got rougher with arousal was enough to make your body yearn for him.

“Shit, darlin’,” he groaned, finally giving away just how badly he needed you too. “You’re always so tight around me.”

Arthur faltered just briefly, taking a second to enjoy the way your pussy wrapped around him so snugly, before he pulled all the way out and then slammed back in again. Your entire body seemed to thrust forward from the force of it and you could no longer hold back the constant and eager sounds that left you.

“That’s it,” Arthur encouraged you huskily. “Don’t hold back, darlin’. I want everyone here to know what I do to you.”

You bent your head down, letting it rest against the bed as the feel of his velvety but rock-hard length against your walls brought you closer and closer to the edge. You were so wrapped up in the fact that he was finally deep inside of you, that when his hand slapped your ass again, gentler this time, you almost forgot his earlier instructions. But you managed to moan out the number ‘five’ in time and then his hands were on your hips again, using his grip on them to give him leverage as his merciless rhythm continued.

“You’re close, darlin’,” he observed. “I can feel it. What do you need?”

You could only moan in response, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. He knew your body just as well as he knew his own. He lifted you up until your back was pressed to his chest and then one of his hands gently held your throat, while the other slid down your body until it reached the apex of your thighs.

“You need me to touch you?” Arthur guessed, brushing his fingers ever so slightly against your clit. “Right here?”

“Oh god,” you moaned. “Please Arthur…”

“Tell me.”

“Please touch me. I need it so badly.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

Arthur pressed down harder, his fingers rubbing in circular motions over your clit. Your pussy reacted instantly, squeezing down even harder on his cock. He moaned, tilting his head to give you another kiss, this time to the crook of your neck.

“Come on, darlin’,” he coaxed you. “I need to feel you cumming around me.”

He lightly pinched your clit, applying just enough pressure to cause a wave of pure bliss to wash over you.

“Arthur…” you moaned out.

“Shit,” he cursed.

Arthur held your hips tightly, keeping himself buried deep inside while your pussy spasmed perfectly around his cock. He loved the way it felt when you came undone, knowing that it was him who did that to you. Your legs shook and your head fell back to rest against his shoulder as your orgasm left your mind and body reeling. Arthur gave you time for your body to settle again before he was slowly pulling out of you and turning you around to face him.

He hadn’t cum, so you knew he wasn’t done with you yet and you moved to lay back on the bed. Arthur followed, his perfectly chiseled body caging you beneath him. You spread your legs, allowing him to settle between them and you let your eyes move slowly down to look at his chest and the light hairs that spread across it.

Then your gaze descended further, taking in his long and thick cock, still achingly hard. You reached out, wrapping your hand around him and lifting your hips to line him back up. Arthur didn’t waste any time, thrusting quickly back inside you.

“Sweetheart,” he moaned, lowering his head until his forehead rested against yours. “You drive me crazy.”

He moved a little slower then, no longer setting the brutal and ruthless pace from before. Now, he allowed himself to take in every little feeling and sensation, like he was savoring the way your body fit his so perfectly.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

You felt slightly bad for making him so angry, even if it did mean that you’d successfully gotten back at him.

“Just don’t… forget… darlin’,” he murmured between thrusts. “I ain’t gonna… let you go. ‘Specially not to a… son of a bitch… like that.”

He brought his hands to yours, entwining your fingers together and using the grip he had to move his hips quicker and deepen his thrusts.

“You’d better not,” you grit out, your back arching a little from how deeply he was filling you up. “Just like… you’d better not see that… bitch again…”

Arthur just let out a light, amused laugh and it surprised you that he didn’t seem bothered by you cursing her out for once. Then he dipped his head and caught your lips in a fervent kiss, pressing his tongue against yours while he continued his steady but passionate rhythm. The way his cock moved in and out repeatedly, with his hips smacking against yours in desperation, caused that fire to build up in your lower belly again.

You met his thrusts eagerly, loving the feel of his naked and toned chest pressing against your hard nipples, teasing them and the rest of your body even further. You were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, bodies tangled together and desperate for release.

His taste filled your mouth, a mix of whiskey, tobacco and just a hint of the mint he often chewed. Along with the little sounds of pleasure he was letting out, it all meant that you were totally and utterly consumed by Arthur.

He gave one last lingering and deep kiss to your lips before pulling back, releasing his grip on your hands and taking hold of your thighs instead. He picked up the pace again and you realized how close he was. His hips moved rapidly, pounding into you forcefully and your body writhed in ecstasy beneath him.

You peered up to watch him through hooded eyes, seeing the way his own were squeezed shut and his mouth was slightly agape with open lust and desire. Then you looked further down your body and observed the swift way his cock slid in and out of you.

Paired with how it felt, tantalizing your sensitive walls with every stroke, brought you to a state of elation once again. Arthur was getting louder now, unable to hold back the moans and groans of pleasure that rose deep in his throat.

The way he lost control and began to unravel whenever he was close to cumming always turned you on. He threw his head back, muscles flexing slightly as he continued to smack his hips against yours. The sounds coming from him were now becoming more unrestrained and guttural. You were so close as well and when you clamped down even tighter around him, in a vice like grip, he thrust all the way forward, burying his cock completely inside you and holding himself there.

You both let out a simultaneous moan and as the first spurts of his cum filled you up, another orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy milked him, convulsing around his length and making Arthur get completely lost in the feel of you as more desperate sounds escaped him. His cock throbbed inside you, further stimulating your sensitive walls and keeping you in a state of euphoric bliss until his body finally began to settle.

When you looked up at Arthur again, he had a small but content smile playing across his lips, and he regarded you with deep affection. Then, he leaned down again, bringing his body closer to yours so that he could look you right in the eye.

“We good now, darlin’?” He asked, voice still deep and gravelly with unadulterated lust. “’Cause I can’t handle seein’ you like that again, ‘less it’s me you’re wrapped around.”

“We’re good,” you promised him, reaching up to run your fingers over his cheek, the coarseness of his short beard tickling your skin. “Although, jealousy does look good on you.”

You let out a light, playful laugh, showing that you were just teasing him.

“I ain’t jealous,” he insisted once again.

“Sure,” you nodded, still unable to hide your smile.

But Arthur was quick to wipe the smirk of your face, causing it to melt into an expression of desire once again as he stole another kiss from your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and forgetting about everything else but him.

--

--

[icycoldninja]

Hi, can i request Vergil x jealous fem!reader.

I’ve seen people do the other way around but Vergil is too damn fine for girls to ignore. Reader is normally shy but when the other women dose not get the hint that Vergil is taken while also mistreating the reader, she lashes out to the point Vergil has to get her out of there since they were causing a scene in the restaurant. Reader gets embarrassed and ashamed but Vergil ends up comforting her <3

Yes, he is fine as hell, lol. Here ya go, enjoy!

Too good for you (Vergil x jealous!fem!Reader angst/fluff)

Folding your arms in your seat at the quaint, cozy restaurant Vergil had taken you to, you grumbled at the scene before you, your dissatisfaction very clearly expressed on your face.

Your boyfriend Vergil had decided to take you to a cute little restaurant for dinner as opposed to something fancier simply for the homely atmosphere. Honestly, at this point, you were beginning to wish he'd taken you somewhere fancier because if he did, there would be a less likely chance of the waitresses crowding around your table, chattering away at him as they were now.

"Oh my God, look at his muscles!" One of them squealed, reaching out to poke Vergil's bicep. After seeing this, you wished he hadn't chosen to take off his cost to eat.

"And his hands are so big and strong," Another cooed, this one a dumb looking bimbo with too much makeup and dry hair.

"He is so good looking, I'm folding like clean laundry!" Giggled yet another woman whose face you couldn't see, to a bitchy-looking girl who had way too many lip fillers.

"I know, right?" She cackled, lightly running her hands, adorned with ridiculously long neon pink talons down Vergil's forearm.

These women--no--these bitches were treating Vergil more like an object to be admired rather than a person, seeing as they weren't respecting his personal space, or yours for that matter.

"Could I sit there?" Asked one woman, pointing to your seat. When you looked up to meet her face, you nearly recoiled in shock--she looked like a literal clown with her face paint and awful hairdo, not to mention her weird looking outfit that seemed to have been together from whatever she could find in a local high school's lost and found box.

"N-no...no, you can't," You finally answered, once you'd regained your ability to speak. In response to your words, the woman pouted, but did not leave. Instead, she seized your arm and began pulling on you in an attempt to get you out of your seat, that you were paying for. Good God, the entitlement of this woman!

Vergil himself ignored the women harassing him; it didn't bother him one bit, he'd endured worse at the hands of Mundus. But to see you being harassed by anyone at all made him put his foot down.

"Take your hands off her," He commanded, staring at the woman with a glare cold enough to freeze lava.

The woman, visibly upset, moodily took her hands off you and stalked away, though once she left, several more took her place. Groaning internally, you focused your attention on the table, trying so very hard to tune out the world around you. Vergil saw this, obviously, and reached across the table for your hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

You'd think by now, the women would have gotten the hint that the man they were fawning over was already taken, but nooooo. These girls were either idiots or they thought they could steal your boyfriend right out from under you. All of them. At once.

There was a severe lack of braincells in that room, unfortunately.

As you were trying so very hard to ignore these pests, one girl had the audacity to remark,

"You, girl, are way out of your league. He's too good for you."

"Yeah, bestie. Seriously though," Another girl scoffed. "He's male model hot, and you're just, well, basic."

"Yup, pretty basic bitch right here," Chimed in the third. "It makes no sense, why do ugly girls get all the fine men?" The girls were now talking amongst themselves about you, rather than to you.

"Honestly, he should just leave her,'" Sighed one of the girls. "He can do so much better."

At that point, you lost all the last shreds of self control you had left. With a screech unfamiliar to even your own brain, you lifted your glass of water and splashed it on the girls, effectively soaking their shirts and pants. Squealing like the little piggy that went "wee, wee, wee," all the way home, the girls fled from the scene, naturally causing a great deal of confusion and tension to arise in the restaurant.

You caught sight of a manager approaching you, as did Vergil, who immediately leapt from his seat, slipped on his coat, took your hand in his, and briskly led you out the door.

The two of you walked in silence for some time before you decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry, Vergil." You sighed, sounding sadder than you meant to.

"For what?" He replied, turning to look at you.

"For...ruining our dinner date...and causing a scene...and embarrassing the both of us in public..." You let out a shaky, nervous sigh which quickly turned into a small gasp of surprise when Vergil let go of your hand and thew his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

"You have nothing to apologize for." He told you, sternly.

"I...don't?" You asked, confused.

"Not at all." He affirmed, rubbing small circles into your shoulder with his thumb. "It was simply an act of jealousy. I would have done the same, had our roles been reversed." He paused a moment before adding with a smile,

"I am proud of you for standing up for yourself, and me." A tiny, unintentional gasp left you as you stared up at him, noting how his cold blue eyes glowed with a warmth reserved only for moments like this between the two of you.

"Really?" You inquired, almost breathlessly.

"Absolutely. It shows you have power, that you are willing to fight when necessary. It means you are motivated," Vergil said, leaning down to plant a soft and brief kiss on your forehead. "Do not stress over it any longer. Let us return home. We will continue our dinner date there."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Vergil's torso, clinging onto him as you walked--a very rare occurrence, which you savored. Now that your jealousy was gone, you had to admit, those women had a point: Vergil really was too good for you.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O drags skeleton into a hot-air balloon. It's his very first time. How does he react?

Undertale Sans - He takes it surprisingly well, to the point he surprises himself. Sans hates heights, but after the instructor what was going to happen, he's a lot more comfortable. Sans likes to know when he's going. He still tries to not look down, but it's actually pretty fun. He can't believe people can literally fly sometimes, he loves technology.

Undertale Papyrus - He's definitely cool with it. Well, he's trying to convince himself he's definitely cool with it. In reality, his knees are shaking uncontrollably and you can hear all of his bones rattling, even though he's trying really hard to hide it. He only relaxes once the balloon stops moving, and that he realizes he's actually fine. He's even having fun after some time!

Underswap Sans - He's overexcited and keeps jumping in the basket, asking to go higher. You're having a lot less fun as the basket is pitching more and more and you're kinda scared your skeleton is going to kill you both.

Underswap Papyrus - He was very fine the first two minutes. Until his mind brutally realized he was really high in the sky right now and that falling this high would surely kill him. He can't get rid of the thought, has a panic attack, and his brain stops working soon after. Honey faints in your arms and refuses to regain consciousness before you're on the ground again lol.

Underfell Sans - He was playing the big guy and all but he still tried to change your mind a dozen of times before you got in the thing. Now that you're in the air, Red is really not feeling well. He's sitting in the basket, both arms spread and clinging to the wall behind him, and he's breathing heavily, refusing to stand up or look outside. Please, he's begging you. Let's go back on the ground.

Underfell Papyrus - He was really fine with the whole thing until the instructor thought it would be funny to scare them by suddenly saying the balloon is losing altitude and to throw his S/O outside to lose weight. You then had to convince Edge to not throw the man out of the basket as he threatened the poor instructor and asks him to say that again to his face.

Horrortale Sans - He didn't understand you wanted to go in the sky. He was fine just going inside the thing for one or two photos, but clearly not for the thing to suddenly move and fly. Oak is completely freaking out and eventually jumps mid-air. He hurts himself badly as he slams into the floor, and it gets worse as people actually try to help him, he immediately attacks, defensive, before running away to hide in the woods. You're going to search for him for long hours after this...

Horrortale Papyrus - He's very uncomfortable but he trusts you when you say it's safe. He doesn't have any other choice anyway now that he is so high in the sky. He's still holding to one of the ropes and refuses to let go. He knows that won't save him if the thing suddenly pops or worse, but it helps him mentally. He has enough after the first time though. Next time you want to do that, he will decline politely.

Swapfell Sans - He's not that impressed. He expected to be more scared than that. He looks disappointed during the whole trip and actually even gets bored of the view after a while and simply decides to sit in the basket to keep reading his book. The only one who gets hurt in this story is your wallet, and the 300 gold you spent on the trip.

Swapfell Papyrus - Wow, that's the first time you see him silent for more than two minutes. And that pale as well. Rus didn't know he was terrified of heights before that precise moment. He doesn't look fine, and he swears he's going to be sick if this thing keeps pitching so much. As soon as you land, he faceplants into the floor and then refuses to move for an entire hour, so happy he's back on the ground.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He tells you that someday, all of these lands will be his. He then doesn't understand why you call him nothing but Mufasa for an entire week. It's not funny. Who's Mufasa? He doesn't know that guy but he wants to kill him so bad for ruining his life now. Somehow, it makes you laugh even more. Now he's giving you the judgemental stare. Your intelligence is questioning him.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's on your back, holding to you for dear life, his face buried deep into your hoodie. And he keeps begging you to go down, more and more distressed. He misses his room, his wardrobe, and his art supplies. Why did he accept to leave the house again? This is the worst day of his life, and he's going to die, and oh my god do something! Even after you land, he refuses to let go and keeps whining for you to get him home. He didn't like that lol.

[hotmessmaxpress]

heyyy i am in absolute aww of your abo au and u would love to read about cele’s dynamic in the pack

i was wondering if u could write about cele’s relationship with marc cuz he wasn’t there during the whole marc visiting ranch before the breakup so they have zero interaction and even now he’s in moto2 so i was wondering what their dynamic would be like or whether u could write about him being sad cuz of his injury and moping cuz he can’t race and only marc is free so he takes care of him and it’s a bit awkward at first cuz they’re never alone just the two of them but then they get close and he’s basically marc’s child after that

Rosquez a/b/o au, part 4

This isn't really at all what you asked for (lol I'm sorry!) but I sort of took the injury idea and ran with it! I think this is when Marc really starts to get comfortable being a 'pack mom' of sorts. Thank you for the ask!

Celestino breaks his collarbone and he makes it everyone else's problem. Temperamental and sort of a pain in the ass normally, he becomes insufferable. Everyone has empathy, obviously, because there is nothing worse than wanting to race and being unable to. Still, there are only so many times one can hear Celin whine about being unable to race before you want to cover your ears.

Celin also doesn't want to speak to Bez, which is new for everyone. The two are codependent in the way only two trouble-making best friends can be, and Bez is apprehensive about Celin's refusal to depend on him for emotional support through this.

"You recovered faster from yours," Vale says, when Bez whines about it to him. "Leave him alone and he will get over it."

Still, Celin is driving everyone insane. He lurks around the ranch, and his contributions in the pack group chat are all depressing.

Marc realizes that as the other omega of the pack, he must step in.

He knows Celestino less than the others in MotoGP, simply because they spend less time together. Celin doesn't get as much time in the pack motorhome as the rest of them, and when they are together Bez is usually present.

Marc isn't sure if he's ever spent time alone with Celestino.

Still, he has to give it a shot. He waits until the weekend when he and Vale are home, and he invites Celin over.

You need to get out of your house. Come mope at ours, Marc sends. He follows up with I will come get you.

He sends Vale off to go run errands and says he wants to deal with Cele one-on-one.

"What if he doesn't want to speak to you either?" Vale asks, obediently grabbing his keys but looking incredulously at Marc. Marc gives Vale the softest, most pathetic, stereotypically omega look he can manage, and he watches as Vale has to consciously refrain from coming across the room to hold him in his arms. He knows that Cele will be powerless against him when he looks like that.

"Okay, fine, if you think that will work," Vale laughs. "Let me know when it is safe for me to come home."

He kisses Marc sweetly then he's out the door, presumably to go bother Uccio or the staff at the ranch.

Marc grabs his own keys and drives to Celestino's. He has to put it in the GPS, because he's never driven there alone. Marc parks outside and sees a curtain fall back into place in one of the windows, followed shortly thereafter by a pathetic looking Celestino coming out the door. He's half wrapped in zip-up a hoodie, one half hanging off of his shoulder because of the sling in the way. Marc gets out of the car and opens the door for him, and Celin says thank you in his most pouty voice.

"I don't have anything planned," Marc admits, getting in the driver's seat and pulling away. "I thought we could lay on the couch and watch whatever you want. Vale isn't home and we can eat all the snacks we want."

Celin hums in response, and Marc realizes he has his work cut out for him.

They drive in silence back to the house, and Marc guides Celin into the house. He has blankets and pillows already piled on the couch, and Celin looks suspiciously between Marc and the couch.

"I thought I would ask before I nested," Marc says.

He's had Celin in his nests before, but never alone, and he doesn't want to force the younger man to cuddle with him if he doesn't feel like it.

"Please," Celin says softly, not making eye contact.

Marc assumes that since he's been ignoring Bez he must not have been in an omega's nest since breaking his collarbone.

Marc carefully constructs it to give support to Celin's arm and sling, and then gently pulls the blankets around the both of them.

"Comfortable?" he asks.

Celin hums in response. He shifts around a bit, and Marc waits nervously as Celin tries to get comfortable. He still hasn't made eye contact with him yet, and Marc wonders for a minute if this was a bad idea. He doesn't want to make Celin feel bad if he won't be comfortable with him. His omega instincts are also starting to kick in, and that part of him wonders if his nest isn't good enough for the young, injured alpha.

Celin finally relaxes, and he tentatively wraps an arm around Marc's shoulders. Marc takes that for the invitation that it is, and snuggles close. He tucks his nose against Celin's neck, and scents the younger alpha. His scent is a little depressed, and Marc moves his head in an encouragement for Celin to scent him. The younger man does, and Marc purrs in encouragement.

They both relax a little more at that, and Celin keeps his face pressed against Marc's neck. He has clearly not relaxed like this since the injury, and Marc feels a pang of sadness for the younger man. He didn't have anywhere near the same experience Celin has had coming up through the different categories, but he does know what it's like to feel like you're on your own and isolated. He imagines it must be even harder when the people you surround yourself with have already made it to the place you want to be.

With that in mind it's a little easier for Marc to consider Celin's feelings. He must feel like his injury sets him even further back than the group, without remembering that the pack don't care where he's racing; they love him no matter what.

A shudder runs through Celin's body, and Marc kisses him on top of the head, feeling a rush of affection for the younger man.

"This is nice," Marc offers.

Celin nods, finally separating from Marc's neck enough to relax against the pillows.

"I was always nervous around you because Bez hated you for a long time, but you've never seemed bad to me."

Marc tries not to snort. That's all Vale's fault, once again.

"I appreciate that," he says softly. "You giving me the benefit of the doubt."

Celin smiles. "It turned out okay, right? I was right and you aren't bad."

He sounds a little smug, and Marc smothers a grin.

"I'm glad to be part of the pack."

He snuggles a little closer, and finally reaches for the remote now that they've both finally gotten comfortable.

"I'm glad you are too."

[sailorgundam308]

Got pretty annoyed yesterday while discussing the game with a friend (don’t worry, we’re still friends lol). But truly, I got annoyed at, once more, seeing how there are wrong assumptions weaved into the community discourse - things based out of someone’s ass, apparently, that got traction and now are repeated by players as if it’s true. But, of course, if anyone stops 2 seconds to actually pay attention to the game, these ideas prove to be just wrong.

This friend, for example, was mentioning how Astarion and Karlach NEVER agree or disagree together in anything. That’s a lie. I’ve (me myself, so I KNOW firsthand) been screen shooting every time there’s an agreement between them and when there isn’t. There are much more agreements than disagreements between Astarion and Karlach. They do come across as having different alignments, but they think alike MUCH more than ‘the internet’ (or even some devs?!) tend to believe. They might justify their rationale in different ways but they do agree together and disagree together way more than they disagree with each other. So that is something I personally can attest to.

Then I heard the argument that Karlach and Astarion don’t get unique scenes between each other: again, untrue. The tiefling party scene with Karlach, for starters, is the only unique romance scene for Astarion. The only person who has back and forth with Karlach after the paladins of Tyr are defeated is Astarion. They have (out of the top of my head, at least 4 unique short banters while both are in the party - again, more than Karl with any other companion.

Then the wrong assumption Astarion can’t go to Avernus : he can and he goes, both as ascended and spawn if you’re playing origin Karl. Ascended if you’re playing him.

A lot stems, again, from simplistic and shallow interpretations of both these characters’ story arcs and personalities. Others come from prejudice, from passing judgement on their appearance instead of their “content”.

Moreover, though, there will never be as much this x that content if it’s involving Karlach (and worse for Wyll) SIMPLY BECAUSE there is LESS than A THIRD the amount of content for Karlach in ANYTHING.

For some reason writers/devs took a long while to decide to put the work into Karlach and when they did they clearly made a bet that blew in their faces - that she’d be a lesser origin character and that’d turn out alright. But she’s the second most popular character and because people like her, they are paying attention to her story - and the massive lack of work and resources dedicated to her arc. Imagine if she had received the attention in detail and the game time / in game content, say, shadowheart received? Instead of a temple Shar, we went to Avernus? In place of Shar, ZARIEL made a personal appearance? We could’ve gotten a young Karlach flashback cinematic, an extra dungeon in act 3, then a personal quest closure with Gortash instead of SH’s parents, so we’d know what the fuck happened. As someone who can’t give two shits about SH, that would’ve been incredible to play. Half of that would still have been a blast. But we get nowhere near. And I’m only bringing Karlach to attention here as an example - if you look at Wyll (who was the front page origin boy since the conception of the game), the disparity is even more shocking.

I’ve read on a writer’s twitter a while back (can’t remember who exactly so you’ll have to excuse me), that they were the writers for Durge, and for a time they got to write some stuff for Astarion for a bit, due to some task delegation changes and whatnot, and they explicitly said they “managed to put in things specific to their “main” character (durge) in Astarion’s writing” - or something in those lines. Honestly… what the fuck? Not sure if that was the intention, but to me it sounded like someone with their own precious OC, which they are obviously attached to, pushing content in to benefit their “main”. In a game where there are several “mains” and many with glaringly less content than others. Again, in my interpretation of what I read that day, this information came across as the most unprofessional shit I’ve seen - if you are tasked to write someone else’s character, you should act as that character’s writer - not a fanfic writer trying to push a personal headcanon or narrative because it pleases YOU, in detriment of other characters. It was wild at the time and I just kinda… walked away and pretended I didn’t read it. It was just shocking and not the attitude I expected from a serious professional.

Whether that’s the whole truth or not I can’t say, but what I can say is that this left me with a weird taste in my mouth and perhaps that’s why until today I couldn’t finish a single run with Durge despite trying several. There are other issues with Durge for me personally in term of the actual writing of the sentences and the way they were worded that just seems impossible to take seriously. (But I’m trying to get over it still, as I want to experience this part of the game too, so I won’t give any sort of personal final veredict).

Also, the idea that Durge was supposed to be the main character… that’s a new assumption for me and my friend also brought it up. That sounded very sus and I went to read more about it and, of course, that’s also wrong. In previous BG games, we always played a Bhaalspawn. It would make perfect sense we played one again - but the butler shit, the amnesia, the gore erotic fantasies, that wouldn’t fly for the average BG3 player - and wasn’t supposed to. When they decided to split tav to leave the “absolutely neutral protagonist” they parted with the bhaalspawn narrative that was a very big part of the previous games, so I assume they didn’t want to just toss it, but put it to another “dark tav” or whatever shit that means. And then they doubled down with the evil and edge lord of kitschy horror narrative. It’s FINE. But isn’t supposed to be the main character.

TLDR: instead of taking random assumptions about bg3 as yours, pay attention to the game itself. And think critically about it a bit. All the origins are presented AS equals but they’re nothing but. And Larian should be (yes, troubleshooting tech issues but also) trying to even out the absurd gaps they allowed to happen in integrating the narrative of, especially, Karlach and Wyll into the game. Make more and decent content for them, fix the plot holes, rewrite the shit that doesn’t make sense for them FIRST.

Tbh, I wouldn’t be complaining if Larian had owned it to their content and presented us with Karlach and Wyll as sort of Halsin or Minthara type of companion - non origin, lesser tier of companion. Then the production choices they made would be at the very least justified. And I won’t EVEN start on the fact that these two, Karl and Wyll, are the two PoC origins… the black guy and the southeast Asian woman. Because, oh, boy, things start to look VERY bad when you put THAT into this equation… 👀